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Warwick Woodlands

Frank Forester

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JOHNA.SEAVERNS

TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES

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Webster Family Libran/ of Vetenngry Medicine

Cummings School of Veterinsry Medicine at

Tufis University

200 Westbi-ifo Road

North Grsfto 01 536

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This is No U.<v...,. of an Edition of The Warwick

Woodlands, fifty copies of which were printed for presentation
and review for Harry Worcester Smith, by the Warwick Valley
Dispatch on a job press, prior to the printing of the Warwick
Valley Edition.

The size of the volume, type and cuts follow as closely as
possible the second (the first illustrated) edition by Stringer &
Townsend, 1851

4i«AAiyjU«ft4atj&^

"Lordvale", Worcester, Mass., U. S. A

THE

WARWICK WOODLANDS

BY FRANK FORESTER

WITH INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

HARRY WORCESTER SMITH

THE WARWICK VALLEY DISPATCH PRESS

WARWICK, ORANGE COUNTY,

NEW YORK.

1921

Preface

The reason for this edition is shown in the pages that follow,
and the success of the work and the memorial tablet to Frank
Forester is due to so many that personal mention would be
impossible; but, with the exception of that grand body of gentle-
men, whom I have termed The Sportsmen of America, their
names appear among those who took part in the Pageant or in the
making it possible.

I must express personal gratitude to the Honorable Henry
Cabot Lodge, who received proof of the new edition of The
Warwick Woodlands only a few days before the momentous
election of November, 1920, and was generous and courteous
enough to mail me his corrections only two days before the
election; to Fred E. Pond ("Will Wildwood") for his ever ready
assistance; to the Sportsman-author, Frank Gray Griswold,
whose advice has been invaluable; to George H.Sargent, of the
Boston Transcript, whose aid has been unlimited; to Eben
Francis Thompson, President of the Omar Khayyam Club, for
his friendly co-operation; and to Miss Florence L. Ketchum, of
the Warwick Valley Dispatch Press, and R. M. Spencer, of The
Davis Press, Worcester, whose everlasting patience and intelli-
gent interest has been inspiring.

This edition was printed in October but has been held up so
that there could be added illustrations of the tablet, the pageant,
Forester Square with the boulder and pageant group on Forester
Day, the Wawayanda House and other pictures and matter
which show the deep interest of the lovers of Henry William
Herbert and the wonderful Forester Day in Warwick.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

Copy of Letter

Sent by Harry Worcester S^nith to the Sportsmen of America,
in regard to the Herbert Memorial and the Warwick Valley Edition
of his greatest sporting book, "The Warwick Woodlands."

September 15, 1920

The following as to the Memorial for Henry William Herbert
(Frank Forester), the greatest American Sporting writer, deserves
your careful attention, not only from you as a sportsman but
perhaps as a father of young sportsmen who will grow up to read
Frank Forester's writings and enjoy them as you and I have done.

The success of the work depends on the efforts of the Historical
Society of the Town of Warwick, Orange County, New York,
where the scene of The Warwick Woodlands was laid, and the
Sportsmen of America, and I feel sure that the latter will not be
found wanting.

The Historical Society, with the town authorities, have
arranged for a sightly location and are transporting a large
boulder from one of the spots made historic by Forester's writings
and placing it on the ground with proper foundation, etc., and I
have agreed, speaking for the Sportsmen of the States, that in
memory of the great author they will pay for the tablet and the
cost of placing it on the boulder.

The expense for the tablet, transportation from Boston to
Warwick, and aflBxing on the boulder has been contracted for at
$700. It will be made of United States statuary bronze and will
be a memorial for all time.

The sketch for the tablet has been carefully thought out and
approved by the Forester Society of America, Fred E. Pond,
David Wagstaff , of Tuxedo, and myself, and we trust it will meet
with your approval.

As it is the gift of the Sportsmen of America, it certainly ought
not to be confined to a few, so as a preliminary I am running off
an alphabetical list of sportsmen, friends of mine who may be
interested to give $5, $10, $15, or $25. The list speaks for itself,
and as you may have friends who you think would like to give, I
am enclosing a blank so that you may fill it out with their names
and addresses and mail me so that all may feel that they have had
a chance to subscribe, no matter how small, towards the remem-

IN MEMORY OF

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT

"FRANK FORESTER"

TTHOR 0F"'THE WARWICK WOODLANDS" "MY SHOOTING BO
"THE QUORNDON H0UNDS'""H0RSE AND HORSEMAN-
SHIP OF THE UNITED STATES AND BRITISH
PROVINCES OF NORTH AMERICA" ETC.

BORN 1

LONDON "
ENGLAND
APRIL 7. 1807

NE^

U.S.A.
MAY 17, 1858

"MAY BLESSINGS BE ABOUT YOU, BEAUTIFUL VALE OP '^vVR-
WICK;MAY YOUR FIELDS AND FORESTSBfi AS GREEN. YOUR
WATERS AS BRIGHT, THE CATTLE ON YOUR HUNDRED HILLS
AS FRUITFUL AS IN THE DAYS OF OLD, WHEN MY YET YOUTH-
FUL FOOT PRESSED THEIR GREENSWARD, MY YOUTHFUL
LUNGS DREW LIFE FROM THE INSPIRATION OF YOUR CLEAR
MOUNTAIN BREEZES. KlAY INDEPENDENCE, INNOCENCE
AND PLENTY BE THE INHERITANCE OF YOUR SONS, THE
DOWRY OF YOUR DAUGHTERS;...MAY YOU BE, AS NATURE

FUL, UNCHANGED AND Y0UNG;AND SO FAREWELL FAIR
V.VLE OP WARWICK.'

"frank FORESTER"

ERECTED BY THE SPORTSMEN OF AMERICA

AND THE

HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF THE TOWN OF WARWICK

19 2 0

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS V

brance of Herbert, whose books are so dear to all of us, for, as
Viscount Grey of Fallodon said, "Books are the greatest and
most satisfactory of recreations. I mean the use of books for
pleasure. Without books, without having acquired the power
of reading for pleasure, none of us can be independent. "

The Historical Society of the Town of Warwick is arranging a
pageant for the day of the unveiling in October, the date to be
announced later, and you will be glad, indeed, to know that
"Tom Draw's"' grandson, T. Harry Ward, of Sterlington, New
York, is to take a part. Draw being the anagram for Ward.
The Forester Society of America is co-operating with the Histori-
cal Society so as to make the day not only one of deep interest
but thoroughly instructive.

Few, indeed, appreciate what Forester did for sport from the
year 1831 to the day of his death in 1858, but his writings for
generations and even centuries will still instruct sportsmen of all
ages, for he wTote of sport in its broadest sense, of the Trotting
horse, the Thoroughbred, the Morgan, the Draft horse. Shooting,
Hunting, Hounds, Bird dogs. Guns, Fish and Fishing, Rods,
Flies and Hooks, and as he said in his letter to the Press of
America :

"I have taught, I have inculcated, I have put forth
nothing that I did believe to be false or evil, or any-
thing which I did not believe to be good and true.
In all my writings I have written no line of which I am
ashamed, no word which I desire to blot."

The works of Frank Forester have gone through edition after
edition. The Warwick Woodlands, Horse and Horsemanship,
My Shooting Box, Field Sports of the United States and British
Provinces of North America, and Fish and Fishing are classics.
Goodspeed of Boston recently sold a Warwick Woodlands undated
edition for $20, and it is only two or three times in the year that
one comes in the market. There were sixty-three Forester
items in the Heckscher sale in 1909.

Three years ago I motored from New York to Warwick with
Mr. F. E. Pond, late editor of the Sportsmen's Review and
The American Angler, a great admirer of Forester, and who
under the name of "Will Wildwood" edited Frank Forester's
Fugitive Sporting Sketches and wrote the Editor's Chapters for
Sporting Scenes and Characters. We took the route as near
as possible that Forester and Archer took when they went out for
their first day's shooting in Warwick, "loveliest village of the
vale. " The events of the day, the meeting with Mr. F. V. San-
ford, the late Mr. J. H. Crissey, Miss Crissey, Mr. G. F. Ketchum,
and Miss Florence Ketchum, the call at the Shingle House, now
the home of the Historical Society, our rambles over the hills and
dales of Warwick guided by Mr. Crissey, visiting the haunts

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

where Frank Forester shot woodcock, killed snipe and hunted
the deer at Greenwood Lake, so inspired me that I have written
a paper entitled In the Footsteps of Forester to be embodied
in a Warwick Valley edition of The Warwick Woodlands, limited
to 100 copies and the type then distributed, to be printed by the
Warwick Valley Dispatch in the village of Warwick, and to be
sold by subscription at $10 each which covers the printing in
Warwick, making of the cuts and binding in Worcester.

If you are interested to secure one of these signed editions,
kindly fill out the blank and mail me and the name will be entered
in the order received.

I am enclosing stamped addressed envelope for your subscrip-
tion to the tablet. Send little or much as you feel, but send some-
thing.

Very truly yours,

Harry Worcester Smith.

Sketch by Frank Forester, taken
from front cover of his Complete
Manual for Young Sportsmen.

TOM DRAW.

From the pen and ink sketch in My
Shooliny Box, by F. O. C. Darley.

Tom Draw (Thomas Ward, proprietor of the Wawayanda
House, hunting companion of Frank Forester and Harry
Archer when they visited the "Sweet Vale of Warwick" as
told in Warwick Woodlands.)

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Frank Forester Day in Warwick

One of the Most Notable in its History

From the Warwick Valley Dispatch of October 27th, 1920.

To relive an event, to repicture a period, and to arouse keen
community enthusiasm takes perhaps the touch of genius. The
spirit of genius prevailed over Warwick Valley, Saturday, and
centered itself at Forester Square where at the cross roads a
beautiful boulder, enriched with a handsome bronze tablet, was
unveiled in honor of the memory of that great sporting writer,
Henry William Herbert, known as "Frank Forester," who
through his pen made the valley of Warwick famous in his first
sporting tale The Warwick Woodlands.

Gathering at noon at Forester Square, people came flocking
in, keen in anticipation of the day's events with the sunniest
of skies smiling on them overhead, while a carpet of autumn
tinged leaves fell for them to tread on. In and among that
crowd of a thousand or more, moved old-time friends and
acquaintances of "Frank Forester" impersonated by the present
generation. There were villagers of 1830 too, who perhaps did
not have the honor of personal acquaintance, but were a part of
that period. Everywhere about pretty girls courtesied as they
greeted you, stately dames and gallant gentlemen benignly smiled.

The Pageant

The pageant was the arrival scene of Frank Forester at Ward's
Tavern as pictured in Warwick Woodlands and was the work
of Miss Genevieve Crissey. The playlet was staged on a grassy
knoll at the end of the tavern, facing the highway on Forester
Avenue, where appeared Archer, driving a spanking team,
accompanied by Forester, Tim Matlock and the dogs.

The villagers crowded in to greet the arrivals, while in front of
the Inn was the ox team, and in the roadway the old coach and
victoria and high gig buggies.

The pageant called forth howls of laughter and to our dying
day we shall hear that deep toned voice of Wilson as Tom Ward,
say: "Boys, boys, let's have a drink!"

In front of Ward's Tavern was the old wooden horse trough, an
old pump and a swinging sign with an "indescribable female
figure." Forester described them as being there, and they all
reappeared. To Townsend W. Sanford, all honor for his "indes-
cribable female figure" and the innumerable clever posters about
the village for weeks ahead, advertising the day, the events and

Vin INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

lunch at Baird's Tavern for the Red Cross and Charity Fund,
and the dance. They were all as smart and as bright as could be.

The episode was splendidly portrayed by an excellent cast,
while to Frank C. Wilson as Tom Draw, the bouquet goes — there
is only one Frank Wilson as Warwick and the County of Orange
know, and whether in song or play — he is just Warwick's own
Frank. The spirit of Frank Forester was reincarnated in Harry
Worcester Smith, and as such all Warwick loved him.

Warren E. Freeman as Harry Archer, was a noble "Yorker."
Tom Lawrence as Tim Matlock; Samuel J. Wagstaff as Dolph
the Dutchman; T. Harry Ward as Bill Speers; Harry Stanley
playing the double role of McTavish and the Dominie; Wm. B.
Sayer as Daniel Seers; Ferdinand V. Sanford as Esquire Conklin;
Townsend W. Sanford as Sam Blain; Mrs. Draw impersonated by
Miss May Wood with the Draw children, Brower (Sam Morford),
Emma Jane (Beth Coats), were a jolly part of the scene; Frank
W. Clark was ripping as Darkey Sam, while Dory Springer as Jem
Lyn was a gem. Squire Sammy Wilson made a call on the party
too, and that was "Doc" Houston. George F. Ketchum was
fine as Ellis Ketchum and told a whopping old fish story, with all
the characteristic fisherman's touches.

Characters in the Episode

Frank Forester Harry Worcester Smith

Harry Archer Warren E. Freeman

Tim Matlock Thomas Lawrence

Dolph, the Dutchman Samuel J. Wagstaff

Tom Draw Frank C. Wilson

Mrs. Draw Miss May Wood

Esquire Conklin Ferdinand V. Sanford

Draw Children —

Brower Sam Morford

Emma Jane Beth Coats

Jem Lyn Dory Springer

Ellis Ketchum George F. Ketchum

Bill Speers T. Harry Ward

McTavish Harry L. Stanley

Daniel Seers Wilham B. Sayer

Sam Blain Townsend W. Sanford

Darkey Sam Frank W. Clark

"Squire" Sammy Wilson Dr. Howard C. Houston

After the pageant, instead of going immediately to the stone
tavern to dine, a parade line was formed and down through the
village streets all went, equipages and all ending up at the Old
School Baptist green, where pictures were taken of the folks
going to church, and many delightful scenes were enacted. This
beautiful specimen of the old church was practically the same in
Forester's time.

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INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS IX

Address by Harry Worcester Smith

President of the Frank Forester Society of America

At the Unveiling of the Tablet Given by the

Sportsmen of America in Memory of Frank

Forester, in the Town of Warwick,

Orange County, New York,

October 23, 1920

Speaking as I do for the Sportsmen of America, I wish to say
that from Maine on the east, to California on the west and from
Canada on the north to the Gulf of Mexico on the south, all red-
blooded men who love the open air, the quiet of the woodland,
the crash of a pack of hounds, the moan of the sea, and the sting
of the rain, have responded nobly by subscribing generously for
this memorial to Henry William Herbert.

When Forester visited Warwick in 1831 there was not the great
distinction which is now drawn between a Sportsman and a Sport,
and neither was there the time given up to recreation and field
sports, and lucky our country was to have a cultured gentlemen
who could shoot his partridge in Latin, kill his deer in Greek,
glorify the scenery in Italian, and describe the beauties of the
chase in French, to act as our mentor through his writings of
Field Sports in the United States and British Provinces of
North America.

It is idle for me to endeavor to immortalize Forester as two
generations of sportsmen have already bowed at his feet, but we
can, by gathering here today (now, almost a century from the
day when his "yet youthful foot first pressed the greensward of
Warwick" "loveliest village of the vale"), and giving this
beautiful memorial in honor of the great poet, writer, and hunter,
show by our gift, made possible by the generous co-operation of
the Historical Society of the town of Warwick, our respect,
regard and love for the man and his writings.

Warwick and the country around about. Forester loved and
brought to the view of every sportsman, as Colonel Thornton and
Sir Walter Scott did Scotland, and as I have shown, writing in
the present day, in my introductory chapters to the Warwick
Valley edition of The Warwick Woodlands, Warwick is as lovely as
in the days of yore and still interprets the words of Forester,
"May you be as nature only can, of all the works of God forever
beautiful, unchanged and young. "

The Historical Society with its oflBcers and friends, all gentle
folk, have made this labor of love a pleasure, which all goes to

X INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

show that the purity of Forester's writings has taught us all
not only to venerate him but one another. He said,

"I have taught, I have inculcated, I have put forth
nothing that I did believe to be false, or anything which
I did not believe to be good and true. In all my writings
I have written no line of which I am ashamed — no words
which I desire to blot."
Viscount Grey of Fallodon in his address delivered on Recrea-
tion, at the Harvard Union, says, "Books are the greatest and
most satisfactory of recreations, I mean the use of books for
pleasure," and when you contemplate the size of my Lordvale
Library catalogue of the sporting books, stories and sketches
written by Forester, the biographies, historical novels, tales and
poems which came from his pen, and notice the number of works
edited and translated by the talented author, you will appreciate
how Henry William Herbert stands first not only in America but
the world over as the greatest sporting writer.

Those who love the sheen of the silk at the starting post, the
swirl of the trout in the pool, the bustle of the partridge coming
out of cover, the skeap of the snipe, the variegated back of the
woodcock as you drop him under the birches* and the cry of the
hounds in the woodland, will, if they are not gathered here today
be glad as word is flashed out all over North America that we are
honoring the writer who made Warwick famous, and by his words
gave recreation, as Viscount Grey says, to all of us and our chil-
dren's children for all time.

*0n Forester Day morning in Warwick, I was given a woodcock by
that rare sportsman, Dr. A. W. Edsall, who, with a friend, had shot three or
four brace the day before in the covers shot over and made historic by Tom
Draw and Frank Forester, and when I said, "The variegated back of
the Woodcock as you drop him under the birches" I took the cock from
my pocket and showed his black brown, mottled back to those gathered
around.— H.W.S.

Copper etching of an impression from one of the
silver buttons engraved by John Scott for Thomas
Gosden, the celebrated sporting book binder and
publisher, from a drawing of a Woodcock by A.
Cooper, R. A., October 1, 1821 (100 years ago).

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INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XI

Copy of Memorial Inscriptions, with Wreaths

On Sunday afternoon a few gathered at Warwick Cemetery to
place wreaths on the graves of Thomas Ward ("Tom Draw"),
Joel H. Crissey and Eliza Hornby, Mr. Pond reading the inscrip-
tions. The first wreath was placed on the grave of Thomas Ward
by his grand-daughter, Mrs. Maurice Bahrmann of New Milford.

IN REMEMBRANCE OF THOMAS WARD ("TOM DRAW")

Frank Forester's Dearest Friend

"Thou true-hearted, honest, merry, brave Tom Draw; thou
whilom king of hosts, and emperor of sportsmen."

Frank Forester.

From the Frank Forester Society of America

IN REMEMBRANCE OF JOEL H. CRISSEY

A devout lover of Nature, and one of the most devoted admirers
of "Frank Forester."

From the Frank Forester Society of America

IN REMEMBRANCE OF ELIZA B. HORNBY

Author of "Old Roof Trees" and other sketches, etc., relating
to Warwick and vicinity.

From the Historical Society of the Town of Warwick

XII INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

Forester Day in Warwick, Oct. 23, iqzo

From the Warwick Valley Dispatch of October 27th, 1920.

Well, was it great? Forester Day in Warwick Village,
throughout the whole twenty-four bright hours which went to
make up October 23, 1920, during which it was celebrated? Yes,
we'll all say so. It was great, and the greatest thing among a
galaxy of wonderful things was the hospitable Warwick spirit,
animating every heart and shining in each face.

It is Warwick's pride and boast that Forester was happy within
her valley bounds, as, apparently, nowhere else. He understood
her people as he understood her contours, her fields and woods,
streams and coverts, and they understood him and reciprocated
his admiration. He, whenever he came, became for the nonce a
denizen, gave himself up to the mood for enjoyment which the
sight of it prompted, and passed at once into a sort of heaven akin
to the Indian's "happy hunting ground." Gentle and simple.
Forester met each in character, and the humblest mountaineer
and field-beater was his friend and admirer, as well as the owner
of the mansions where he sat equal with equals, and where today
his memory is fondly and earnestly cherished for the souvenirs
left behind as well as the remembrances of his unusual personality.

Forester Day dawned golden and clear, and even in far-off
windows anxious eyes scanned the heavens at earliest dawn, to
note what they presaged. The outlook was highly favorable,
and soon, from city stations, garage, carriage house and farm-
yard the throng set out, garbed for the occasion. A motley
assemblage it was, but oh! such colorful, joyous motley! Elders
and youngsters with one accord soon filled the square which is now
ornamented by the Forester Memorial. Just beyond stands the
Wawayanda House, the home of master-host, Tom Draw (Ward),
and near by "the red brick pride of the village, " and "the house
under the locusts" (Shingle House), all mentioned in his first
account of his visit thither with Archer, his hunting chum.
None of them are much changed. The surroundings, though,
are more congested now, as Warwick has grown, and buildings
stand where he saw only clear spaces. But these only served to
house more of the throng who met there to celebrate the memory
of the sportsman-author and hero of the day.

•

A returned native and seldom visitor, who writes this, is not
very well up on names and faces, save those long known and
loved, so names will be avoided rather than multiplied in this
sketch, but it may be said that there was no one there unworthy of
notice. Some perforce must stand forth to make a story, but all
deserved praise.

Equipage of W. Sanford Durland of Chester

The Albert Dbrland Ox-Team from Kdenville

A. MoREAU Reynolds, as Major-General John Hathorn

CharIiEs a. D1CK8ON, as Major-General Henry Knox

Mrs. Mart (Sanford) Durland, as her great grandmother Mrs. Abigail (Coe) Burt

Mrs. Charles A. Dickson, as Mrs. Henry Knox

Mrs. Emilt (Sanford) Reynolds, as Mrs. John Hathorn

Earle Stid worthy, as his great grandfather Abraham Miller
Miss H. May Houston, as her great grandmother Mrs. Ann (Wisner) Houston
Mrs. Grace (Wood) Stidworthy, as her grandmother Mrs. Eliza (Wisner) Miller
Mrs. Margaret (Minturn) Everett, as her great aunt Miss Almeda Winters
Miss Helen Houston, as her great grandmother Mrs. Elizabeth (Rowlee) Coe
Albert 8. Durland, as his grandfather Edward Wood

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INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XIII

To pick out a belle among a bevy at once stately, lovely,
dainty, quaint, sweet and graceful is a task that might be flinched
from, but must be braved. Two — one elder and one younger —
seemed to bear the palms, viz.: Miss Elizabeth Burt and Miss
Margaret Van Duzer.

Miss Burt was resplendent in blue silk, in lustrous, full folds and
perfect fit, with delicate lace garnishings, and jewels at neck, belt
and wrist. The dress was a gift from her mother on her eight-
eenth birthday, and was of a quality unobtainable now. Her
coiffure was finished off with a large blue and white ribbon bow,
and she carried a fan.

Miss Margaret Van Duzer wore a light summer dress of lawn,
parti-colored, quaintly made with many-ruffled skirt. A
ravishing coiffure of large puff extending across the top of the
head, with puffs at the ears and heavy curl dependent by each
cheek became well her petite style. But, capping this effect, and
earning her the title of "junior belle" to most minds, was her
genial, quick and amiable response to the summons for a girl
dancer to entertain the crowd after several good-humored
masculine exhibitions, with an old-fashioned solo country dance.
With scarf thrown lightly over her arms, feet pattering in perfect
time, with odd bobs at intervals, she was the veritable hit of that
portion of the program.

The elegant equipage of W. Sanford Durland, of Chester, was
one of the sensations of the day. It was a genuine Brewster-
built Victoria from New York, with wonderful features of con-
struction in massive leather bands instead of springs, shining
lamps, high front, and deep-seated back. Hanging from one of
the cross-bars in the rear, in derision of the time it represented,
was an auto sign, reading: " 1830 N.Y. " A trio of flower-garden
ladies, in silks, large,open-fronted and blossom-garnished bonnets,
gold ornaments and other furbelows, were, by name: Mrs. Mary
Sanford Durland, her sister, Mrs. Emma Sanford Reynolds, and
Mrs. Charles Dixon. The accompanying gentlemen were W.
Sanford Durland, E. Moreau Reynolds, and Charles Dixon.
The notables represented were Major and Mrs. James Board by
W. S. Durland and mother; Gen. and Mrs. John Hathorn by
Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds; and Gen. and Mrs. Knox by Mr. and
Mrs. Dixon.

As a contrast, and who that saw them shall say it extended to
the bright faces of its occupants, was the Albert Durland ox-cart
from Edenville. On chairs, in real old style, rode Mrs. Edward
Stidworthy and son Earl, Mrs. Seeley Everett, the Misses Mary
and Helen Houston, Catherine Nanny and Mildred Hedges.

The box-wagon rig manned by Mr. John Pelton, and filled also
with a bevy of merry maids riding in chairs, was a display which
drew all eyes. He, himself, in ancient army hat, contributed not
a little to the success of the outfit.

XIV INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

The playlet, inimitable as it was, will be fully described, and
may be omitted here. However, Esquire Conklin, portrayed by
Judge F. V. Sanford, deserves more than a passing notice. His
costume was one of the perfect ones of the day, deserving more
than passing notice, especially for its butternut color of old-time,
perfectly matched with a butternut brown beaver. Collar and
lapels of brown velvet finished the finely-cut coat, and fawn-
colored trousers, flowered waistcoat and stock completed a hand-
some costume. Whiskers, wig, and assumed demeanor truly
represented the ancient Squire, who was Somebody in the days
when class reigned. His daughter, Miss Marian, representing
Mary Burt Herrick, her grandmother, wore a blue flowered silk,
with tight bodice and full, wavy ruffled skirt. Her hair, in curls,
showed beneath the blue poke bonnet with black velvet streamers.
A fichu, old-time brooch and black mitts made a costume which
earned her in the minds of many the title of: "The Lass with
the Delicate Air," borrowed from the quavery old colonial song
now once more popular.

"Old "Squire Burt," (Senator James), whose house was For-
ester's home when he visited Warwick, for weeks at a time
(figuring in one of his novels as "My Shooting Box,") was per-
sonated by his descendant, Mr. J. Everett Sanford, who received
modestly the plaudits of friends for the results achieved. He was
dressed in a pinkish-brown court costume, with elegant vest and
deep lace falls for cravat and wrist, perfect in cut and fit, which
made one wish that the styles would go backward for men, — at
least for ceremonial dress. The gray beaver he wore, with its
long nap, was a creation, — no less. Mr. Sanford received the
obeisances and homage of his cousins as his recreated ancestor
with dignity and modesty, and deserved the praise he received.

Mr. Lewis J. Stage and Mr. Henry Pelton, screamingly funny
in red wig and nose-ended glasses; Mr. G. F. Ketchum, as his
ancestor "Ellis" (Enos) Ketchum, master-of-ceremonies of the
day; Mr. Harry W. Smith and his friends, Messrs. Freeman and
others, were all pictures long to be remembered.

Mr. Remsen Holbert, as his ancestor, Henry Board Wisner,
of the Lake, and builder of the mansion there, in high silk hat and
frock coat and stock, with carpet-bag, was a beau, and he led
about, as a companion-piece of attractiveness, his sister. Miss
Grace Holbert, in flower-wreathed bonnet and cork-screw curls,
which framed a rosy little face most becomingly. Her costume
was of the flat long-shouldered effect of Forester's day.

The sisters, Mrs. Harold Hawkins and Miss Genevieve Van
Duzer, both wore costumes notable for beauty and costliness.
The latter's dress was of brown and blue striped tafTeta of lustrous
weave, and the mantle accompanying was of net, very handsome,
an open-flaring, flower-filled bonnet topping the whole.

Miss Genevieve VanDuzer, as her great, great aunt Mrs.
Polly (Pelton) Jackson; Mrs. Deborah (VanDuzer) Hawkins,
as her grandmother Mrs. Deborah (Morehouse) VanDuzer

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

Miss Lydia Burt, all in white with fringe trimming; Miss
Jessie Benedict, in magnificent silk of wonderful breadth; Miss
Florence Ketchum, in a light costume of quaint design, with a
fetching bonnet that was one of the day's sensations, representing
her grandmother, Sally Conkling Wilson; and a hundred others
were noticeable, but space forbids the inclusion of their names.

The procession through the town from Square to bridge and
back to the church was one long to be remembered. The
handsome, high-bred horsemen and horses, some riding pillion
with little maid or young miss; the equipages, elegant and
nondescript; and marchers, each one more fine, quaint or cute
than the last, made a picture unequalled and unforgetable.
Unhappy those who could not or would not be present!

Dear, dear Warwick, do it again, with some other good excuse !

New York, October 25, 1920.

M. H. B.

M. H. B. is a daughter of Mrs. E. B. Hornby, author of Under Old
Rooftrees which has chapters on Warwick Weather, the Wawayanda
Creek, and Henry William Herbert.

Shingle Hoose - Built 1764

Home of The Historical Society of the

Town of Warwick

XVI INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

A Dream of the Pageant

By Fred E. Pond

I wandered down to Warwick town —

Pride of fair Warwick vale —
To dream within Tom Draw's old inn

Of sport o'er hill and dale.
October days with golden haze

Had tinged the autumn air;
The brilliant leaves that nature weaves

Were waving everywhere.

My dream by chance fill'd with romance

Revived the olden time,
The scenes and ways of other days,

Like minstrel's song and rhyme.
A rippling stream in sunny gleam —

The Wawayanda rill —
Flow'd thro' the town of good renown;

Big brook trout rising still.

Across the run where Washington

Had been an honor'd guest,
The drum and fife gave martial life.

In dreamland's wand'ring quest.
Within the hall a stately ball —

I see the figures yet —
Where belle and beau with court'sy low,

There danced the minuet.

With mild surprise my waking eyes

Beheld the dream come true;
The maids and men in house and glen

A pageant picture drew.
'Twas an ideal so like the real

That those from near and far
Saw with amaze and eager gaze

Old Warwick's gates ajar.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XVII

The days of old when knights were bold

Were re-enacted here.
On portico and down below

The throng was gather'd near;
Each at his best to greet the guest

From Gotham coming down.
Be first to spy and then to cry

"Frank Forester's in town!"

Adown the street the thrilling beat

Of horses footfalls clear;
The carriage comes 'mid murm'ring hums,

Then rings a rousing cheer!
'Tis not a myth, 'tis Harry Smith,

Fam'd with horse, hound and horn,
And at his side in modest pride

Rides "Archer," Freeman born.

When all is done ere setting sun

Has cast its final ray,
A boulder seen on village green

Bears tribute long to stay :
There Herbert's name, his lasting fame,

Inscrib'd, with portrait true.
Shall, morn and night, in shade and light.

Express our homage due.

Sketch by Frank Forester illustrating
feathers used for tying flies. Taken
from gold leaf decoration on the back
of his Fish and Fishing.

Xvin INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

Letter to Mr. Smith

From Henry Lloyd Herbert, Chairman of the American Polo
Association since its formation in 1890, and fondly called, ^'Father
of Polo in the United States."

Mr. Herbert died March 5, 1921, aged 76 years.

November 5, 1920
Harrt W. Smith, Esq.,

Worcester, Mass.
Dear Harry Smith: —

How time does fly ! It is within one day of two weeks since my
wife and myself shared in the ceremonies attending the unveiling
of that splendid and appropriate tablet to the memory of Frank
Forester. All of which were brought about through your
activities and your admiration for the fertile brain and prolific
pen of Henry William Herbert in all matters of pure sport as they
existed seventy years and more ago.

The way in which the loyal and pure bred American citizens
(for I saw none other) of the quaint and beautiful town of War-
wick portrayed the costumes and customs of the period of Forester
and Tom Draw — paying tribute to the memory of a typical
Englishman and a typical American having congenial fancies for
life in the Warwick Woodlands and convivial tastes indoors ; the
kindly greetings and hospitality shown us by the men, women
and children of the charming town (somewhat due to your
introduction and endorsement) has made a lasting and happy
memory.

I feel gratified in possessing the name of one so talented and to
know of a remote relationship to Herbert.

Altogether our short stay in Warwick was one of great enjoy-
ment, for which we have to thank the good people of the town,
Mr. Fred E. Pond (Will Wildwood) and your own sport loving
self.

Sincerely yours,

HENRY L. HERBERT

•^Hb^wJUt^u^ulAJ^

Master of the Grafton Hounds, Loudoun Hunt,
Leesburg, Virginia, 1009-1911

A Sportsmen's Sportsman

Opposite the old Post Office in Worcester, Massachu-
setts, in the early eighties, stood the otfioe of Clemeiice,
the auctioneer, on whose sidewalk tables were often shown
books he picked up at country auctions. When a lad of
tifteen, although then a reader for a year or more of the
Spirit of the Times, I bought there The Horse and Horse-
manship of the United States, by Frank Forester. The
reading of these two volumes probably had more to do
with shaping my career as a sportsman than that of any
other books, and from that day to this my interest in this
greatest of American sporting writers has grown.

Unquestionably other followers of sport may bear simi-
lar testimony, and without pretensions to any such
literary ability as that of this master of words, this recital
of personal experiences in which Frank Forester's works
have guided me may not be uninteresting to those who, like
myself an admirer of his writings, have acknowledged
their obligation and would join with me in paying tribute
to one who was preeminently a "sportsmen's sportsman."

Eagerly I read these two volumes, the first of which
treated of the thoroughbred or running horse. In it is
described the race between the mighty Lexington and
Lecompte at the Metairie Course, New Orleans, Louisiana.
Both were sons of Boston, one the pride of the Blue Grass
State and the other the hope of the sportsmen of the Red
River. The description of these great matches of four-
mile heats impressed on me the need of stamina in the
racehorse. Eighteen years later, when, in the Genesee
Valley I espied the bay gelding. The Cad, sired by Uncas,
he by Lexington, my mind ran back to Frank Foi-ester's
words, and purchasing the youngster, in 1900 I had the
pleasure of riding him myself to victory in the Champion
Steeplechase of America at Morris Park, value ten thou-
sand dollars, beating six of the crack professional riders
and establishing a record for the course; The Cad being
a maiden and a registered hunter at time of starting.

In the firi^t volume of Horse and Horsemanship was also
the description of Sir Archy, the Godolphin Arabian of the

XX INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

turf in America, bred by Colonel Archibald Randolph and
John Tayloe on the James River, and the families still
flourish in the beautiful Piedmont Valley of Virginia,
near where the plantations of the Dulanys yet thrive as
they did before the Revolution. It is the country where
Mosby's lightning raiders flashed terror to Northern hearts
in the Civil War, and the hunting ground where, in 1905,
was fought out the historic Grafton-Middlesex-American-
English foxhound match, in which the trophy was award-
ed unanimously, with the two-thousand dollar stake, to
the Grafton Hounds, of which I was the proud master
and huntsman.

Frank Forester's second volume told of the draft and
the standard bred or trotting horse, describing the
hundred mile race of Fanny Jenks and the wonderful
record of Lady Suffolk to saddle, with pictures as fine as
the racing scenes of Herring or the hunting pictures of
Aiken depicting sport in England. Among the engravings
is the wonderful sporting print of Flora Temple drawing
the high-wheel sulky. The print links me again with
Forestei", because a few years ago in a Philadelphia auc-
tion room I bought the foreleg and hoof of Flora Temple,
"the first to cross the magic 2 :20 line." A few years later.
at the Second Sportsman's Dinner at the Waldorf, in New
York, George Floyd Jones of New York presented me with
a string of bone rattles worn by Flora Temple v/hen on
October 15, 1859, at Kalamazoo, Michigan, she won in
straight heats from Princess and Honest Anse, making
the last heat in 2:19%. At Lordvale now the bay ankle
of the mighty Flora Temple is again encircled by the bone
rattles as it was when turf history was made on that
memorable afternoon.

Willi such a writer as my earliest teacher in the field of
sport, it is not to be wondered at that the name of Frank
Forester is endeared to me for life, and these lines are the
tribute of a sportsman to one who, by his pen, has guided
and influenced thousands of sportsmen. Frank Forester
lifted the horse from the minds and language of the stable
boy to an honorable position in the regard of gentlemen
of the States and the sport of woodcock and partridge
hunting from the shadowy ways of the pot-hunter to a
position where sportsmen were proud of their dogs and
their guns.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXI

A few years after my first acquaintance with Forester's
work I picked up Fugitive Sporting Sketches by the same
authority, edited with a Memorial, in 1877, by Fred E.
Pond, who, then at the age of eighteen (under the noni de
plume of "Will Wildwood'') was the author of Memoirs of
Eminent Sportsmen, in which he at that early age showed
an enthusiastic regard for Frank Forester which forty
years have not lessened. Mr. Pond's collection of Fores-
ter's writings under the title of Fugitive Sporting
Sketches, published in 1879, with an Introduction and
Memoir of H. W. Herbert from his own pen is the most
vnluahle addition to Foresteriana yet made. An extended
memoir of Herbert also appears in a revised edition of
Foresters Sporting Scenes and Characters in the preface
to which Mr. Pond expresses his obligation to that keen
sportsman and delightful writer "Toxophilus" and to W.
Story Sargent of Boston.

Sunday, April 7, 1907, was the centenary anniversary
of the birth of Henry William Herbert. The anniversary
was duly noted by Mr. Pond in the Spoiismen's Review
and he pronounced "Frank Forester" "the most prominent
name in our American literature pertaining to the gun
and rod." To fittingly celebrate the event a Forester
Dinner was given at my country seat, Lordvale, where
eight or ten sportsmen paid tribute to the departed
scholar, artist, author and sportsman.

Truly, being dead, he yet speaketh to sportsmen in our
own time, and all over the land. Never have I taken a
sporting trip to Vernon, Vermont, to shoot the woodcock
in early September; to have a try during the flight of the
long-bills at Blandford in the Berkshires; to follow the
wide-ranging pointers quail shooting at Cooleemee,
North Carolina, in the winter; or spend three or four days
at Petersham or Barre, Massachusetts, in hunting the
partridge of the North, — the ruffed grouse — that I did
not include with my guns and cartridges some of the works
of Herbert.

Nor can I forget The Quorndon Hounds published in
1852, in which Forester so wonderfully depicts the "Sport
of Kings," fox-hunting in Leicestershire, England. No
true sportsman can read it without looking forward to a
run from Ranksboro gorse or a gallop over Ashby pastures.
Quorndon Hounds was my companion when I went to

XXII INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

Melton Mowbray in 1896 to hunt with the Quorn, the
Pytchley and the Warwickshire Hunts.

Through an interest in Forester articles appearing in
the Sportsmen's Review .1 began to correspond with Mr.
Pond, the editor, who has done more than any other man
in America to keep alive the name and memory of Herbert.
Encouraging my enthusiasm, he advised me where
books could be bought, pamphlets obtained and other
material gathered, so that from an occasional buyer I
became an ardent collector. About 1909 or 1910, while on
a visit to John E. Madden, the Master of Hamburg Place
at Lexington, spending a few days in the Blue Grass
region looking over the Castleton Stud made famous by
the white and blue spots of James R. Keene, the "wizard
of Wall Street'', and inspecting Elmendorf, the vast es-
tablishment of James B. Haggin, "the copper king," I tar-
ried for an evening at Cincinnati that I might meet Mr.
Pond, who had resided there for nearly twenty years while
connected with the Review.

No introduction was necessary, for in a moment, bound
together by mutual love of Henry William Herbert, we
were comparing notes and I found I was a novice beside
the man who for forty years had made Forester a study.
But with the generosity of the true collector he pointed
out new highways and byways of Foresteriana which I had
never traveled, so that for five or six years after, while at
home or in England or Ireland I was continually im-
proving my collection, aided by him through various
channels.

Another great lover of Herbert was Isaac McLellan, who
was eighty-eight years of age in 1893, and who wrote a dedi-
catory i^oem to be delivered at the unveiling of a monument
to be erected to Forester at Greenwood Lake, near War-
wick. But the funds not forthcoming the monument was
never erected. In 1876 the "Newark Herbert Association"
and the "Frank Forester Fund Memorial Association"
had been formed, the latter having as its president Dr. N.
Rowe of the American Field, who has done so much to
preserve the blood lines of English setters by his Stud
Book. The members of the Newark Herbert Association on
May 19th, 1876 — the eighteenth anniversary of Herbert's
burial, — erected in Newark, near "The Cedars," on the
right hank of the beautiful Passaic in Mount Pleasant

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXIII

Cemetery, a headstone such as tlie author wished ou the
spot where he reiiuested to be buried, and in the same year
published a Memorial Pamphlet containing the address of
Major George B. Halstead, president of the Newark As-
sociation.

A few years ago, looking through a catalogue of the
Anderson Galleries, 1 noticed several Forester items, the
property of J. Charles Davis, a character known the world
over as advance agent of Buffalo Bill's Wild West and
Barnum's Circus, and a great lover of field sports. At the
sale I secured one of the Memorial pamphlets, and was
gratified to find on the fore-page : "Presented to J. Charles
Davis of the New York Sunday Herald at the Cabin
Camp, near Greenport, L. I., June 21, 1893, by Isaac
McLellan." In that year Mr. Davis, who was a regular
contributor to the New York Herald, had written an
article on "The Lonely Grave of a Famous Author" after
a visit to the grave of Frank Forester, which was fittingly
illustrated by the Herald. This was interleaved in the
Memorial and in Mr. Davis's autograph was written :
"Printed Sunday, November 26th, 1893. Caused much
correspondence after publication," and pressed between
the leaves was a leaf of ivy plucked from a vine growing on
Forester's tombstone and brought from the English home
of the Herberts by Margaret Herbert Mather ("Morgan
Herbert"). *

♦Full size sketch from Ivy Leaf.

Henry William Herbert

Herbert, who wrote under the nom de plume of "Frank
Forester," was bom on April 7, 1807, an English gentle-
man, grandson of the Earl of Carnarvon, educated at
Eton College and Cambridge, and for some reason un-
known came to the new world to seek his fortune. At
the Classical Academy in New York he taught Greek and
Latin, and at the same time aided in the editing of the
American Monthly Magazine, which he left in 1835 after
establishing its high literary character.

In 1834, Harper Brothers published his first work en-
titled The Brothers, followed by Cromwell in 1837 and
other historical novels followed in 1843 and 1844, and his
ablest historical work was, perhaps, The Roman Traitor
founded on the conspiracy of Cataline, published in 1846.

His earliest sporting story, on which this writing is
based. The Warwich Woodlands^, first saw light in 1839 in
William T. Porter's American Turf Register, published
in New York, and it was then that he assumed the nom de
plume of "Frank Forester" at the suggestion of Mr.
Porter's brother George.

This was followed by My Shooting Box in 1846, for at
that time he had ample leisure to pursue his love of the
field and the lure of the angle among the Warwick Wood-
lands of Orange County, New York, with his friend,
Thomas Ward, whom he loved to caricature and tantalize
and then immortalized by making him the hero of The
Warwick Woodlands under the name of "Tom Draw", the
anagram for Ward.

The articles by Frank Forester, John J. Audubon. J. P.
Giraud, Jr., T. B. Thorpe, and others, entitled "Hunting
and Shooting in North America" in the first American
edition of Instructions to Young Sportsmen made up the
first work of a purely sporting character ever published in

*"The Warwick Woodlands" was first published in book form by G. B.
Zieber & Co., Philadelphia, 1S45. The second edition, from which this
work is copied on account of the illustrations, was published in 1851,
Stringer & Townsend, as shown.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXV

America as was stated by W. T. Porter in his dedication
of the vohnne to Colonel Wade Hampton, Jr., dated
October 1st, 1840.

In 1849, as Mr. Pond states, "his great sporting work,
Field Sports of the United States and British Provinces
in North America, Stringer & Townsend, publishers, was
greeted with the warmest enthusiasm throughout the land,
and to show the popular character and real merit of his
great work it must be known that nearly twenty editions
have been published since that time, and it is still con-
sidered a standard."

To further show the versatility and industry of this
cultured sportsman, mention must be made of the many
illustrations which occur in his work. No doubt, he was
intimately acquainted with F. O. C. Darley — the leading
illustrator of the time — whose engravings in the Novels
of James Fenimore Cooper, Dickens' Pickwick Papers,
The Hive of the Bee Hunter by T. B. Thorpe, Knicker-
hocker Sketches of Washington Irving, and Hawthorne'8
Scarlet Letter, are the best of their time, and he must have
spent many hours with Darley in order that the latter
could produce the inimitable drawing of Tom Draw and
othei's equally good. While Forester availed himself, as
shown in Horse and Horsemanship, of the services of the
great painter E. Troye and the engravers on wood, N.
Orr and many others, he, however, largely illustrated his
own works. For instance in Fish and Fishing he states:

"All the subjects were drawn by myself on
wood either from the fish themselves, or from
the original drawings in the possession of
Professor Agassiz."

The tireless energy of the man is shown in A Complete
Manual for Young Sportsmen, where the fifty-five sketches
of birds, fish and game were all drawn by the author, and
in American Oame In Its Seasons, where twenty-one of
the subjects to illustrate the text were his work.

The Clydesdale Stallion in Hints to Horsekeepers was
also from the quill of Herbert. The word quill is used
literally, as the Rev. R. Townsend Huddart, principal of
the Classical Academy of New York City, stated that
Forester's exquisite drawings were executed with crow
quills.

XXVI INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

In Field Sports of the United States and British
Provinces of North America not only were the initial
woodcuts of the chapters his efforts, but also the tail pieces
and nine full-page illustrations.

His scope was not narrowed to sporting subjects how-
ever, for the frontispiece in the Captains of the Roman
Republic — The Battle of Actium — was composed and
drawn by him. In The Fair Isabel, translated from the
French story by Eugene Sue and published by Richards
and Company of New York in 1846, appear the words on
the title page "With original illustrations by the Trans-
lator." Then again in the Quorndon Hounds he most at-
tractively shows the English scenery and the methods of
hunting in three charming pictures which would do credit
to Ferneley or Wolstenholme.

To match his strength in the field, Herbert showed a
wonderful literary industry during the twenty-five years
previous to his death, not only writing sporting books,
stories, and sketches but ventured into biographies, his-
torical novels, and tales. He wrote poems, and also edited
and translated many works besides contributing to and
editing a number of the leading magazines, companions,
and reviews of the day.

His translation of The Prometheus and Agamemnon of
Aeschylus he dedicated to Edward Everett, Esquire, late
President of Harvard College, and it was published by
John Bartlett, Bookseller at the University in 1849. From
his writing, Herbert must have been a good man to
hounds, and he also appreciated sport of all kinds because
in 1853 he edited an American edition of Major Camp-
bell's Old Forest Ranger, or Wild Sports of India, and in
1856 he edited Mr. Sponge's Sporting Tour by Surtees,
so well known to all the followers of the chase.

Herbert killed himself at Stevens Hotel, in New York,
leaving a few words to the Press of America, of which
the following is a part :

"As a writer let me be judged, as a man let
God judge me."

"I implore not praise, not a favorable con-
struction, I implore silence."

"I have taught, I have inculcated, I have put
forth nothing that I did believe to be false or

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

XXVII

evil, or anything which I did not believe to be
good and true. In all my writings I have written
no lines of which I am ashamed, — no word which
1 desire to blot. For justice sake, for charity
sake, for God's sake let me rest. I have striven
hard in great trials, in great temptations, in a
foreign country. Remember now, all of you who
would assail me my back is turned for ever." •
"My last hope is gone, my last love and my
life go together, and so good night to
May 16. 1S58.* Herbert."

His unfortunate death was brought on by a second
marriage the previous winter with a young lady from
Providence, Rhode Island, who, listening to malicious
gossip, left her husband, and rather than continue the
battle alone he took into his own hands the putting out
of the light of life.

*Herbert died the next day.

Q U O R N D O N HALL, Leicestershire
From the Sporting Magazine, 1805

Country spat of Hugo Meynell, Esq.
first master of the Quorndon Hounds,
now known as the Quern Hunt.

In the Footsteps of Frank Forester

THE VALE AND VILLAGE OF WARWICK.

"In all the river counties of New York, there
is none to my mind which presents such a com-
bination of all the natural beauties, pastoral,
rural, sylvan, and at times almost sublime as old
Orange, nor any part of it to me so picturesque,
or so much endeared by early recollections as
the fair vale of Warwick.

"Sweet vale of Warwick, sweet Warwick, love-
liest village of the vale, it may be I shall never
see you more, for the silver cord is loosened, the
golden bowl is broken, which most attached me
to your quiet and sequestered shades.

"May blessings be about you beautiful Warwick,
may your fields and forests be as green, your
waters as bright, the cattle on your hundred hills
as fruitful as in the days of old.

— From the Writings of Frank Forester."

In 1917, Mr. Pond came to New York as Associate
Editor of The American Angler, later on taking the
Editor's chair, and he frequently suggested that out of ovir
mutual regard for Frank Forester, the Sportsman, Writer,
and Lover of the Open we should make a trip to "sweet
Warwick, loveliest village of the vale," but it was not until
Wednesday, August 21st, 1918, when in my motor at
1 P. M. I drew up at the office of the Angler, just off
Broadway, that our desires were gratified.

A few weeks earlier, down at Little Compton, R. I. on
one or two rainy days, I had reviewed The Warwick
Woodlands, Fugitive Sporting Sketches, and My Shoot-
ing Box and marked here and there the points of interest
in the trip from New York City to Warwick, fifty-five
miles away, as seen by Forester when, with his friend
Harry Archer one tine October morning in 1831, they
drove across the ferry to the Jersey shore with a brace
each of spaniels and setters in the box of his hunt-
ing wagon. But one must read a chapter of The Warwick

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXIX

WoodlaruL^ to aiiprcciato his words. They were behind a
pair of nags,

"both nearly thoroughbred, 15.2 high, stout, clean-
limbed active animals, — the offside horse a gray,
almost snow-white — th6 near, a dark chestnut,
nearly black — with square docks setting off ad-
mirably their beautiful round quarters, high
crests, small blood-like heads, and long thin

manes ribs slightly visible, their muscles

were well filled, and hard as granite. Their coats
glanced in the sunshine — the white's like statuary
marble; the chestnut's like high polished copper."

and at a quarter past six they landed in Hoboken.

Our conveyance was a Dodge motor, painted yellow
picked out with black, and at 1 :45 P. M. we were over the
Cortlandt Street ferry and landed on the Jersey shore.

Forester's road led by the private racecourse of the
stanch sportsman, Mr. Stevens, and on the left were
"several powerful horses taking their exercise in their neat
body clothes."

Not far away was Castle Point, the home of John C.
Stevens; son of Colonel John Stevens, inventor of the
steam screw propeller and a contemporary of Fulton and
Livingston ; where the Stevens family have held sporting
sway for generations. It was John C. Stevens who, on the
13th of November, 1822. accepted the challenge of Colonel
William R. Johnson, "Napoleon of the Turf", to produce
a horse on the last Tuesday in May 1823 to run four mile
heats against Eclipse over the Union Course on Long
Island for $20,000 a side, $3,000 forfeit.

As this match is one of the milestones in the Sporting
Annals of America, a description of the race from an old
document written at the time ma.v be a pardonable
digression :

"On the 27th day of May, 1823, there was no
less than thirty thousand assembled on the Union
Course — many of these ladies — and certainly on
no similar occasion had ever brought so many
men of note together in America, — General
Jackson, tall, thin and angular, headed a dele-
gation from Tennessee; Alston of South Cnro-
lina ; and John Randolph of Roanoke, scowling

XXX INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

as was his habit with a rough word for everyone;
and a small man with flashing eyes, his hair done
up in a queue exquisitely dressed and the most
polished in address, whom everybody looked at
but nevertheless kept aloof from, for it was
Aaron Burr, the slayer of Alexander Hamilton.
In fact, everybody in society was present, the
betting was fast and furious, the Southerners
laying two to one on Henry.

The first heat, at the tap of the drum, Henry
took the lead and kept it for the whole four miles
and from the stand John Randolph squealed out,
"I'll bet a crop of niggers on Henry." Time 7
min. 37 sec.

The next heat Purdy, ancestor of Belmont
Purdy, was substituted for Croft on Eclipse and
brought him in a victor by thirty feet. Time
7 min. 49 sec.

The third heat. Taylor, a famous Southern
jockey, was put on Henry but Purdy again
steadied Eclipse and applying the whip the last
quarter came in three lengths ahead. Time 8
min. 24 sec. The twelve miles being run in 23
min. 50 sec."

These were the times when every stable had its cham-
pion of the Turf and every town a course, and it is said
that when the favorite of South Carolina was beaten on
the Metairie Course at New Orleans in 1818 half the
planters of that State were financially crippled and Joseph
Alston, Ex-Governor of the State, bet and lost a planta-
tion and slaves worth fifty thousand dollars.

To further show the "broad sympathies" that the
Stevens' family have always shown towards sport in the
States the following is introduced :

In the cabin of the schooner yacht, Gimcraek, the proper-
ty of John C. Stevens, while she lay off the Battery, the
New York Yacht Club was formed in 1844, and with
George L. Schuyler, James A. Hamilton and others he
formed the syndicate which took the yacht America
abroad and won the now famous international trophy
called the American Cup. While anchored opposite Os-
borne House he received Queen Victoria, who, on the day
of the race from the royal yacht, Victoria and Albert,

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXXI

anxiously peering down the Solent to catch sight of the
yachts coming in view, asked the signal-master standing
with the glass at his eye, "What yacht is that first?"
"The America." "What is second?" "Ah, Your Majesty,
there is no second."

Even in this generation the late Kohert L. Stevens, of
Westbury, was considered one of the best sportsmen on
Long Island, a splendid man to hounds, a keen breeder of
blood horses and a director of the Meadow Brook Hunt
C^lub.

Coming back to Forester's narrative, we read that
Herbert and Archer with Tim up behind drove the crack-
ing pair the first six miles in twenty-nine minutes pulling
up at a low tavern for a milk punch, and later, at Hacken-
sack stopped for breakfast. Here our motor route began
to run with theirs, for on account of the present-day fer-
ries and roads we could not take the full course to and
from the Jersey shore, and a few miles further on we
found true the words of Forester which featured the
landscape :

"The country became undulating, with many
and bright streams of water; * * * and the
bold chain of mountains, which under many
names, but always beautiful and wild, sweeps
from the Highlands to the Hudson, west and
southwardly, quite through New Jersey."

A few miles beyond we crossed the Ramapo, which, in
Herbert's time "was one of the loveliest of streams eye
ever looked upon", now forming part of the great water
system of Manhattan. Now and then an old house would
be seen, made of huge brick, either formed from the red
sand of the soil or cut from sandstone, and in several
towns fire alarms are even now given by striking a huge
metal liorse shoe which is hung by a chain from a wood-
en frame, fully four feet across, with a great striking
hammer hanging on one post, on each frame being painted
the number of strokes that designate the locality.

Speeding by an inn "The Hermitage" founded in 1700,
we were going through Suffern and drawing on towards
Tuxedo, named no doubt from the pond called Truxedo*,

♦Truxedo is apparently a corruption of Truxillo. while the surname
"Duckcedar" (often used by Tom Draw) is a misnomer — History of
Oraniie County, Ruttenber and Clark, 1881.

XXXII INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

and here were, as Herbert says — "hills of every shape and
size, here bold, bare and rocky — there swelling up in grand
round masses, pile above pile of verdure to the blue firma-
ment of autumn." It was at a spot five miles before they
reached what is now the golf links gate of Tuxedo that the
sporting party lunched and rested their "cattle", as Fores-
ter loved to describe the horses; and when they had cover-
ed the five miles "there down a wild-looking glen, on the
left hand, comes brawling over stump and stone a tribu-
tary streamlet, by the side of which a rough track, made
by the charcoal burners and iron miners, intersects the
main road; and up this miserable looking path, for it was
no more, Harry wheeled at full trot."

We must pause a moment and explain, for the present
generation will wonder at iron mining in the Catskill
Mountains; but near there was the Sterling Furnace
where, during the Revolutionary War, was forged the
chain which stretched across the Hudson at West Point
to stop the English vessels from going up the river, it is
written in history that "It Was The Chain That Never
Broke." It was made of links two feet long which weighed
one hundred and forty pounds each, and held in place by
logs and anchors and stretched from West Point to Con-
stitution Island. Other chains made in other localities
were stretched across the river but the chain forged at
Sterling was the only chain that never broke.

Our motor sped on with the entrance to Tuxedo Park
on the left and the charming station of the Erie Railroad
on the right. The next turn was to the left passing one
of the Park gates near the golf links and then the main
road turned sharp right-handed, but slowing up, the sign-
post showed the name WarwicJi and bending in a southerly
direction we picked ovir way most cautiously until wh
espied on the right a rough-looking road and from a party
nearby inquired the way to Warwick. They pointed up
what was, even to this day, "a miserable looking path"
and still further recalling Herbert's description.

"of winding along the brow of precipices *****
would have stared aghast at the steep zigzags up
the hills, the awkward turns on the descents
***■* through a bottom filled with gigantic timber
trees, cedar and pine, ***** about six miles by
three almost precipitous zigzags till we scaled the
highest ridge of the hills."

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXXIII

We drove up slowly on second speed, stopping now and
then to appreciate the scenery which, to this day, is as
lovely as when Herbert smoking- his Keg»lia with his
friend Harry — ribbons in hands "assisted by the rare
mouths of his e-xquisitely-bitted cattle" piloted the party
to the summit years before.

Witli my notes and those of Mr. Pond, for he, too, had
made notes of such points as he deemed we would find ol
interest and could be checked off at this later day, wc
drove slowly and eagerly looked for Greenwood Lake.

"The loveliest sheet of water my eyes had ever
seen, varying- from half a mile to a mile in
breadth and about five miles long with shores
indented deeply with the capes and promontories
of the wood-clothed hills which sink abruptly to
its very margin."

We spied it down in the valley to the left lying like a
mirror in a broad frame of velvet, and as Forester said
"called by the monsters here 'Long Pond'."

Forester makes Archer tell about the fish he caught and
the deer he killed with the ball through its heart at Green-
■wood Lake and then bids the reader wait until they cross
the hill, the Bellvale Mountain, where there is a finer view
yet. There on the summit, as he decades before had
pulled up, so did we, and quoting him :

"Never did I see a landscape more extensively
magnificent. Ridge after ridge the mountain
sloped down from our feet into a vast rich basin
ten miles at least in breadth, by thirty, if not
more in length, girdled on every side by moun-
tains— the whole diversified with wood and water,
meadow, and pasture-land, and cornfield — studd-
e<l with small villages — with more than one
bright lakelet glittering like beaten gold in the
declining sun, and several isolated hills standing
up boldly from the vale!"

"Glorious indeed! Most glorious!" Forester exclaimed,
and we must echo his words, for years had not changed
the view of the pastoral valley before us guarded by high
hills. He called it "the vale of the Sugar-loaf", named
from the cone-like hill near the pond eight hundred feet

XXXIV INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

above tide water. He goes on and describes the "blue
hills, to the far right the Hudson Highlands, the bold
bluff is the far-famed Anthony's nose, and those three
rounded summits farther yet — those are the Kaatskills"
where, since the memorable trip of Forester and his
friends, "Eip Van Winkle", as told by Washington Irving,
had slept his twenty years and has been immortalized by
"Joe" Jefferson. He writes about "rattling down the
hills **** the steep pitches" down which we coasted mile
after mile, finally reaching the floor of the valley, then
running on a good road to Greenwood Lake, where we
arrived by 4.30 and had time to go to the sandy beach,
called by the sporting author "Silvery Sand."

We ardently wished that our time was free so that in
the fall we might see, ourselves, the beauties traced by
Forester in his chapter entitled "Day the Sixth" when on
a beautiful day

"Not a breath of air to ruffle the calm basin of
the Greenwood Lake — *** the hues of the in-
numerable maples, in their various stages of de-
cay, purple and crimson, and bright georgeous
scarlet, were contrasted with the rich chrome
yellow of the birch and poplars, the sere red
leaves of the gigantic oaks, and with the ever
verdant plumage of the junipers, clustered in
mossy patches on every rocky promontory, and
the tall spires of the dark pines and hemlock."

We wended our way backwards on our trail for a mile
or two, then to the left and a short twentj^ minutes brought
us to the edge of sweet Warwick, where the first sign that
greeted our eyes was Forester Avenue a name Mr. Pond's
friend, Mr. J. H. Crissey, had had changed by a vote of
the Warwick Council, from Lake Street to that of the
author who made Warwick famous.

Mr. Pond had heard that the Demerest House, which
was formerly kept by a grandson of Tom Draw, was still
in existence, and we soon located it opposite the railway
station, a comfortable brick inn, whose proprietor greeted
us warmly and proudly showed us in the dining room a
good picture of uncle Tom Demerest, and in the smoking
room, near the mantel, two hooks from which formerly
hung the beautiful English gun presented by Frank For-

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXXV

ester to his friend "Tom Draw" and which upon the death
of Tom Demerest went to Tom Draw's grandson, Mr.
Thomas Harry Ward, of Sterling-ton, near Ramapo. Then
and there both of us mentally resolved to see that gun, if
seeing were possible, before we returned.

We arrived about five o'clock, four hours from New
York City to cover the sixty odd miles which Archer's
gallant nags had covered in approximately eleven hours,
including stops.

Forester Avenue was rightfully named, for it wound up
by the Shingle House straight to the door of Tom Draw's
Tavern, which in by-gone days was

"a long white house with piazza six feet wide at
the top of eight steep steps, and a one-story
kitchen at the end of it ; a pump with a gilt pine-
apple at the top of it, and horse-trough; a wagon
shed and stable sixty feet long; a sign-post with
an indescribable female figure swinging upon it,
and an ice house over the way."

The tavern was still the same, but when the road was
graded in front the cellar was left as the first story, leav-
ing the piazza like the high galleries around the mansions
of the southern plantations.

The next day upon closer inspection, we found little of
old time interest about the tavei'n save possibly the ancient
split clapboards covering it; gone was everything of For-
ester's times except off the cellar a cone-topped circular
Dutch oven, which in olden days was used to bake in and
now had been transformed into a jam closet.

Upstairs we did find on one of the cross hallway en-
trances into the main hallway, marks where the doorway
had been cut away, for when Tom Draw, who stood but
five feet three or four inches high and weighed over two
hundred and fifty pounds, had been encased in his last
overcoat — a wooden one — the casket was so broad that the
doorway was far too narrow for his removal.

Mr. Pond had been in active correspondence with Mr.
Crissey, Postmaster George F. Ketchum, the former editor
of the Warwick Valley Dispatch, and Mr. F. V. Sanford,
one of the leading citizens of the county, a descendant of
Thomas de Sandford of Salop, England, Companion in
Arms of William the Conqueror in 1066, and as we passed

XXXVI INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

the Honor Roll on the Main Street of the town (formerly
known as the King's Highway) we saw that three of Mr.
Sanford's sons had like their forbears centuries before
answered their country's call. These gentlemen and other
good gentlefolk of the Valley of Warwick had founded on
May 4th, 1906, the Historical Society of the Town of War-
wick with Mr. Sanford as President, Mr. Ketehum as
Firat Vice President, and Mr. Crissey as Treasurer, and
Mrs. Van Duzer and others and naturtdly to them we turn-
ed on our arrival in the village.

We fotmd Mr. Crissey 's residence, just back of Tom
Draw's tavern on Main Street and while I have given
Christinas presents to children and seen prisoners over-
joyed as the judge read their discharge, never have I seen
anyone more pleased than Mr. Crissey when he found
that Mr. Pond had at last come to Warwick. The former
was almost four score years of age, the latter sixty-two;
both loved Forester and by letters knew and appreciated
each other. Time and again Mr. Crissey had looked for-
ward to Mr. Pond's coming only to be disappointed, but
he now met him in the flesh.

The next day at the home we met Mrs. Crissey and her
daughter, both of whom helped keep aglow the old gentle-
man's love of WaTivich Woodlands and Frank Forester's
writings, and Mr. Crissey told us of a charming visit of
John Burroughs to his home, how he had visited Bur-
roughs at Slabsides and how delightful the acquaintance
was to him. After planning to be guided on the morrow
by Mr. Crissey and his daughter over the vale where Frank
Forester had shot, hunted and fished; we motored to the
Demerest Home for dinner, after which we drove out
through the cemetery where Tom Draw was buried, and
on the street not far distant found Mr. Ketehum and his
keen and intelligent daughter. Miss Florence, with her
mother on the piazza.

Our visit was of the deepest interest to them both. Mr.
Pond spoke of his Herbert collection and the value and
extent of mine, especially the English editions and my
good fortune in securing the gems of the J. Charles Davis
collection and other rare volumes at the late John Gerard
Heckscher sale in February 1909.

In an hour's chat we went over Foresteriana with spark-
ling eyes and eager words and it was brought out that in

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXXVII

the town of Warwick there were many citizens who would
be glad to own a copy of The Warwick Woodlands, which
both Mr. Pond and 1 knew was difficult to obtain. There-
fore, as pioneers in the Warwick pilgrimage, we deter-
mined, in the sweet village on that beautiful August eve-
ning to have printed by the "Warwick Valley Dispatch"
an edition of The Warwick Woodlands so that the many
lovers of Forester and his writings in Warwick and scat-
tered throughout the United States and England might
possess an edition printed in the village which Forester
had made so famous and by a press whose owners vener-
ated his name. It was decided to limit the edition to one
hundred copies, and to give the first copy to the Historical
Society of the Town of Warwick.

That night it was "early to bed and early to rise," for
who would sleep late with such a feast as was to be spread
before us the coming charming August day ? At nine
o'clock we drew up at Mr. Crissey's home and he and his
daughter, Mrs. G. M. Van Duzer, were soon installed in
the motor to guide us out of the village on the very same
route which Frank had so many times taken with Tom
Draw and Harry Archer.

Little did we know what surprise Mr. Crissey had in
store for us and how in selecting his monument to the
fame of Frank Forester he had laid the foundation on
the very spot immortalized by the latter in that wonderful
chapter "Snipe on the Upland" in The Warwick Wood-
lands. There were but three miles to go, and our first
stop was at the little cemetery, with tumble-down stone
walls, of the Minthorne family. Here were stones to
Joseph Minthorne and , his good wife Sarah, the former
dying in 1847, the latter in 1850. Herbert brought the
former on the scene in the words of Tim the Englishman,
"Sur, Ay'U put oop t' horses in Measter Minthorn's barn",
and later on in Tom Draw's advice to "look the little pond-
holes over well on Minthorne's ridge."

Along the lane at the left cosily situated on the hillside
was the Minthorne home, now going to rack and ruin. Mr.
Crissey could remember when the little graveyard was
neatly and trimly kept, when the house and the garden
in front beamed forth comfort and a welcome. Many were
the interesting stories told of Mrs. Minthorne's love of
flowers, for in that day there were no seed dealers to pur-

XXXVIII INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

chase from and the good housewives used to go miles to
exchange bulbs and shnabs, and always and ever the Min-
thorne garden was a delight to the eye.

I could not but help noticing Mr. Pond, for in walking
along, as he suddenly espied some "Bouncing Bets" which
had escaped from the garden and had been growing wild
for years, he paused and with a reverent look picked some
of the blossoms and put them tenderly in his pocket with-
out saying a word, as a boy picks up a flower his girl has
dropped half ashamed that someone should see him.

A bit further on, drawing through a gate carefully
chained, along the old lane we found a broadside notice
on the post which stated : "Pleased to have you come for a
swim or a hike on the hills. Do no damage but leave your
gun at home. These notices are not for exhibition pur-
poses only, but mean just what they say. eT. H. Crissey."
Here we were directed to draw up by Mr. Crissey who
said, "Now let us walk down to the pond," but as it was
only seventy-five yards away and as there seemed nothing
to notice I hesitated, when he again said, "Please: — let
us walk down to the pond." Even then I did not ap-
preciate how much our coming to Warwick meant to him ;
how he had for years traced out the hunting trips of Frank
Forester in the vale of Warwick ; how he had worked tire-
lessly to show his appreciation of that wonderfully cul-
tui-ed English sportsman who took America for his home
and who said "Good night" all too soon.

Obeying his request, we had gone but a few yards nearer
to the lower end of the pond when we saw the cause of
Mr. Crissey's earnest appeal, for following in Forester^s
footsteps he had found the meadow where the pond had
been, but which had been drained in 1845. Fortunately,
he owned the majority of the land and by the courtesy of
Mr. W. D. Ackerman, who owned the rest he had been able
at an expenditure of some hundreds of dollars, to build a
cement dam across the brook, thus restoring the pond to
its original shape and on the dam deep in the cement,
when it was damp, he had inscribed in large plain letters :

"Drained 1845, restored in 1914.

J. H. Crissey,

W. D. Ackerman.

Frank Forester's Pond."

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XXXIX

On one of the wings to the left he had, by borrowing
Tom Draw's gun from his grandson (Tom Demerest) and
wrapping the gun in paper and pressing it down into the
wet cement, made an imprint that should be there for
ever, with the words, "Frank Forester's Gun."

I looked first at Mr. Pond, then at Mr. Crissey ; the
former, who for years had revered Herbert as a sportsman
and a writer, who had longed for year after year to come
to Warwick and happy whenever he had augmented his
libraiy with some Forester items; the latter an equal
lover of Herbert but with knowledge of him obtained only
through a few of his books; now brought together by the
same note of love and respect to our first American sport-
ing writer.

Happy was I, in the stress and strain of wartime when
a joyful sporting trip seemed almost a misuse of one's
time, that I had arranged that Mr. Pond should have at-
tained his life-long wish. Happy, indeed, that Mr. Cris-
sey should have been able to show us what he had accom-
plished and also to feel that we — worshippers at the same
shrine — could appreciate what he, alone and unaided, had
done to show his feeling towards the author who had made
his home-town famous.

That was really the climax of the day. Kindled then
and there was a glow of regard for one another which
could never be extinguished, and while other scenes fol-
lowed nothing could equal those ten or fifteen minutes in
which the son of Warwick revealed to us, what for
years he had longed to do, had season after season planned,
and finally built.

Going back to the motor a bit further on we found a
rough lean-to which our guide had erected so that any of
the villagers who should walk out could use it as a shelter
from the stoi-m. In it was a box for magazines to instruct
the visitor, and strongly framed and nailed on the wall
and stoutly screened the Darley picture of Tom Draw and
another one of Frank Forester in hunting costume, both
presented by Mr. Pond. Above the picture of Forester
was printed: "Sportsman and author of The Warivick
Woodlands. The chapter called 'A snipe hunt on the hills'
tells of the day's shooting around this pond (and the

XL INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

party's luncheon) about 1840" and the following shows
the sport they had :

"Skeap — Ske-ap!" up sprang a couple of snipe
before Shot's nose and Harry cut them down, a
splendid double shot before they had flown twenty
yards just as Frank dropped the one that rose to
him at the same moment. At the sound of the
guns a dozen more rose hard by, and fluttering
on in rapid zigzags dropped once again within a
hundred yards — the meadow was alive with
them."

From the same chapter the reader learns that the four
guns scored forty-nine English snipe, fifteen for Harry
Archer, thirteen for Tom Draw — ^twelve for the Commodore
— and only nine for Forester "who never killed snipe quite
as well as he did cock or quail", and about the luncheon
one reads:

"And now boys, exclaimed Tom, as he fluufx
his huge carcass on the ground with a thud that
shook it many a rod around — there's a cold
roast fowl and some nice salt pork and crackers
in that 'er game bag — and I am a whale now I
lell you for a drink."

That morning, in 1843, before running into the snipe
they had picked up a woodcock or two, and I remembered
with pleasure a few sentences descriptive of the woodcock
which Harry, Frank, and Tom had found at Squires
Swamphole, which not a little while later our host pointed
out to us far in the distance:

•'Suddenly after hunting through a mass of
thorns and wild vine which made our trip almost
impassable I came upon a little grassy spot,
quite clear of trees and covered with the tender-
est verdure through which a narrow rill stole
silently and as I set my foot on it up jumped
with his beautifully colored variegated back all
reddened by the sunbeams a fine and full-fed
woodcock with a peeidiar twitter which he utters
when surprised. He had not got ten yards how-
ever before my gun was at my shoulder and the
trigger drawn and before I beard the crack I

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XLI

saw him cringe, and as the white smoke drifted
off to leeward he fell heavilj' completely riddled
by shot into the break before me."

Driving- along- the lane we saw the two pond holes on
the Minthorne ridge, and further to the left, nestled in the
valley the homestead of Mr. Crissey, a large square man-
sion with spreading barn, ample sheds and towering silo
where our good friend had been born and over
which he still kept a fatherly eye to see that his tenants
maintained the property. Here was certainly no out-at-
the elbow agriculture as the two hundred and thirty-five
acres were all in a high state of cultivation.

Now we found the main road, and within a few miles
had driven off it again on to the grass land which sur-
rounds the beautiful Wickham Pond, of some one
hundred and fifty acres, going by way of the
Big Swamp and the Hell Hole. And we could re-echo
Forester's words uttered years before and put into the
mouth of the Commodore in the chapter on the Quail :

"Certainly, this is a very lovely country",
as we "gazed with quiet eye over the same beautiful vale
with the clear expanse of the pond in the middle fore-
ground, and the wild hoary mountains framing the rich
landscapes in the distance", and a few minutes later as
we motored back over the hills my mind turned to those
beautiful words of Forester describing the Warwick
country :

"There is no lovelier scenery on earth than that
through which the homeward road of the sports-
man lay, along the northern slope of the Warwick
mountain, with a mile's breadth of soft velvet
meadows stretching out green and gentle to the
left; the bright waters of the Wawayanda flash-
ing in golden reaches to the level sunbeams far
on their northern verge, and beyond the stream a
long range of many colored woodlands, half veiled
by the purple haze of autumn, and the blue
summits of Mount Adam and Mount Eve soar-
ing, distinct in their dark azure against the
cloudless sky of Autumn."

Eealization is the greatest pleasure and here on that
bright summer's day we were on the high uplands of whicli

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V V . . ■

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XLIII

Frank Forester had written what as long as men read will
be judged the best description of shooting of the wood-
cock, quail, ruffed grouse, and snipe in America, and al-
ready within us was a contented and satisfied feeling —
"For this work is well done." And as I looked on the
right and left to the mountains came the thought of the
wonderful sport which Frank, Tom and Harry had in the
middle of the last century, sport which was, as Forester
said — ''a day's sport to talk about for years afterwards."

"Fifty-one woodcock, forty-nine English snipe, twenty-
seven quail and a brace of ruffed grouse — one hundred
and twenty-nine head in all — in an unpreserved country
and very hard walking" — far different from the preserved
sport in England, where, as the following shows, when
the monarchs were shooting game, not men, their bag
was: (See opposite page).

While Master of the Westmeath Hunt in Ireland I
heard that often six hundred woodcock were shot in Lord
Ardilaun's covers in a day on the islands in the lake at
Cong in Galway County where the birds are preserved
throughout the year and then driven in for miles around
for the noblemen's guns. Forester's Warwick Woodlands
revealed unpreserved sport in an unpreserved country
with an atmosphere of bracing air and sparkling sunshine
which no other country can show and of which all true
Americans are proud.

Among our great sporting writers is T. B. Thorpe who
has described wild turkey hunting in Louisiana with words
that equal Forester. The Honorable William Elliott, who,
bred from a "Southern family that formed the nobility of
America" wrote with the pen of a gentleman sportsman
about "Carolina Sports" almost a century ago. William
A. Baillie-Grohman has in Fifteen Years' Sport and Life
in the Hunting Orounds of Western America and British
Columbia given us the best about big game hunting.
Frank Gray Griswold, whose five volumes of Sport ov
Land and Water will years hence be eagerly sought for
by those desiring to obtain through the reminiscences of
a gentleman who, in many cases took the leading part, a
true history of the great events in racing, hunting, sailing
and polo from the eighties to the present day, and Theo-
dore Roosevelt who, in The Wilderness Hunter and The
Outdoor Pastim.es of an American Hunter has told lis of

XLIV INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

the results of his many years of sport, but never again
will we have a Frank Forester who, following the bent of
many an Englishman, devoted a master mind to the de-
tails of sport and who by cultured words and sparkling
phrases showed the picture of those grand days on the
hills of Orange County.

Running back to the village at noon we met Mr. F. V.
Sanford and with Mr. G. F. Ketchum visited the "Shingle
House"; built in 1764, and on the right side of the road
we stopped, as Forester did when he drove up on the first
day to Tom Draw's tavern. The house has been purchased
by the Historical Society of the town of Warwick which,
in its Historical Papers,- published in 1914, gave a descrip-
tion of the Society's Seal,

"In the foreground is seen the familiar
Wawayanda Creek spanned by the old stone
bridge. In the background is seen the familiar
sky line of Mount Adam and Mount Eve; en-
circling the seal is a representation of the great
West Point Chain, forged at Sterling furnace in
the eastern part of the township during the Revo-
lutionary War, and was the chain that never
broke."

A chapter could be written about the Shingle House and
the interesting relics of by-gone days gathered by
the many members of the Society, and to enrich the
li)>rary Mr. Pond has presented the following books by
Frank Forester: "Sporting Scenes and Characters, Fish
and Fishing, Life and Writings, Fugitive Sporting
Sketches, Wager of Battle, Henry the VII Ith and His Six
Wives, Captains of the Old World, The Fair Puritan,
The Magnolia, &n^ Wildwood's Magazine, i\.nd. when I was
asked to write in the Visitors' Book I penned the
following :

■ "Mr. Pond has been for years a Forester lover,
and has one of the best collections of his writings
known. Mr. Pond has written for Forest &
Stream, American Field,- Turf Field and Farm, '
and has been an editor of the Sportsmen's Review
eighteen years; and is now editor of the America/i^ ■
Angler. He wrote the Memoirs of Herbert and

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XLV

Explanatory Notes in Frank Forester's Fugitive
Sporting Sketches (1S79)."

"Mr. Crissey states that this is the pioneer trip
of lovers and admirers of Frank Forester to
Warwick. He showed us about this morning
(Aug. 23, 1918). The town should be proud of
his grand work of love at Forester's pond."

That afternoon with the motor's head pointed eastward
I was already looking forward to another Summer and
another day or so in the sweet vale of Warwick when per-
haps those interested in Frank Forester from all over
America might gather at the Shingle House and from
there go forth with maps of the country and visit the
scenes so wonderfully word-painted by Forester in The
Warwick Woodlands and My Shooting Box.

In Warwick we had learned the address of Mr. Thomas
Harry Ward, the grandson of "Tom Draw" as of Sterling-
ton near Ramapo, and after running through Tuxedo vil-
lage we found him at his home and made known our
errand. Pleased he was, indeed, that we were so inter-
ested in his grandfather and with a great deal of pride
brought out the gun Forester had given "Tom Draw."

Little things tell one much, and the moment I saw the
beautiful rosewood gun case with name plate I appreciated
more than ever the culture and refinement of Frank
Forester, whose every word and action was that of a high-
bred gentleman and whose description of My Shooting
Box showed his environments:

'Tt contained an arm-rack lined with crimson
velvet, well garnished with two superb twin
double-barrelled guns by Purday, a heavy ounce-
ball rifle by the same prince of makers. *****

"The walls were hung with several excellent
line engravings from sporting subjects by Land-
seer. The floor was carpeted with a grave but
rich Brussells, which was not unpleasantly re-
lieved by the deep crimson curtains and cushions
of the massive old-fashioned settees and sofas
with which the room was bountifully furnished.
A large round centre table, with a crimson cloth,
supporting a tall glass reading lamp, was strewn
thickly with portfolios of good engravings, an
annual or two, the Spirit of the Tim,es, and the

XLVI INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

last number of the Turf Register with several
English sporting magazines and other periodicals ;
by a small trivet, on which stood an antique
salver, with a coffee pot and sugar dish of richly
chased and massive silver, a cut-glass cream jug,
with a small stand of liqueurs, two tiny glasses,
and two coffee cups of Sevres china. A pile of
hickory logs was crackling and flashing cheer-
fiilly upon the hearth; a pair of wax candles
were blazing on the mantle-piece ***** Such was
the aspect of the room, which Heneage, fresh as
he was from London and all the finished comforts
of English country-houses, in the first month of
his first visit to America, pronounced the very
acme of perfection, as a bachelor's establishment."

After reading such a description of a sportsman's lodge,
written by one who could hold his own with the best
scholars, the best shots, and the best writers of his time,
what sort of a gun would you have expected he would have
presented to the friend of his happiest days — Tom Draw?

Mr. Ward opened the case and thei'e, nestled in velvet,
which was still bright and luxurious, was a beautiful
English made double-barrelled gun with an inscription on
the barrel, "P" and then enough indistinct letters which
might have been "urday", then B. with a little indistinct-
ness which might have been "ros", then plainly, "London,
warranted fine twisted." Mr. Draw, (Ward) put the gun
together, lifted the triggers, and although made fully sev-
enty years ago it was still in perfect order, showing it was
made on honor.

I noticed down near the butt a steel chased latchet with
a thumb-nail catch which I opened and out rattled a few
Ely's caps such as Forester held between his forefinger
and thumb and loved to describe :

"So. much for Ely! exclaimed Harry — had we
both usfed two of them, we should have bagged
four there."

This showed so plainly that the talented Englishman
did nothing by halves; the gun must have cost eighty
pounds — four hundred dollars — for the steel work was
beautifully chased, the breech of rare wood, and in addi-
tion, in the case was a powder flask and one of the old-

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS XLVll

fashioned shot pouches with automatic gauge at outlet,
each perfectly fitted down into the velvet so that when the
gun and case wns presented it was a complete equipment
for the field. Was it not the gun one would picture Frank
Forester would give Tom Draw?

Thomas Harry Ward was deeply interested when I
brought out my list of Frank Forester's works, and items
pertaining to him, and especially when he noted they
included sporting books, stories, sketches, biographies,
historical novels, tales, poems, works edited or translated,
magazines, companions, reviews edited or containing
articles written by or alluding to Forester; biographical
notices of Frank Forester; autograph letters of Frank
Forester, including his splendid tribute to "my true
friend„ honest, fat Tom of Warwick" written to
"John W. Hasbrouck, Esq., Whig Press Office, Mid-
dletown, Orange County, New York." This is post-
marked and dated "Newark, N. J. Feby. 1st. 1854",
all in Herbert's writing and duly signed; also A. L.
S. of Fred E. Pond ("Will Wildwood"), T. Robinson
Warren (sporting author and pupil of Herbert), Isaac
McLellan (poet sportsman whose cousin, Sarah Barker,
was Frank Forester's first wife), H. L. Herbert (a relative
of Herbert and one of the group in the Meadow Brook
Hvmt picture with Colonel Theodore Roosevelt, Thomas
Hitchcock, William Jay and August Belmont, shown in
the Poems of Frank Forester), Mrs. Margaret Herbert
Mather; with steel engravings, photographs, sale cata-
logues and other data, making a list covering over one
hundred and eighty pages. Perhaps it was only then he
appreciated the intellect of the writer-sportsman who had
made his grandfather famous in two hemispheres. Then
he eagerly asked where he could obtain a copy of The
Wanvick Woodlands, for while he had read one he did not
own one. I told him what we contemplated and he at once
said, "I will take five copies."

Dusk was now drawing on and we soon started on our
return trip; a most delightful run of over fifty odd miles
to New York, winding through the Park the gift of Mrs.
E. H. Harriman, and the Palisade Park which adjoins it.
There is no motor trip for thirty or forty mile' more
beautiful in America, and I am told that the late George
W. Perkins was in a great measure responsible as it was

XLVIII INTRODUCTORY CHAPTERS

his hard work year after year which awakened the interest
in the Harrimans and other wealthy citizens who, besides
himself, gave largely to the purchase of the land.

The roads were perfection, and after gliding through
the beautiful green mountains, by the silvery lakes we
burst upon the Hudson which lay below us. As Herbert
said:

"Slow they glide away,
The gorgeous gleams that flash from Hudson's

tide
And paint the woods that gird old Beacon's side;
'Tis holy all, and haunted! Each green tree
Hath its own tale, each leaf its memory;
The streams, that knew the Indian's tread of yore,
The breezy hills, with rock-ribbed summits hoar,
The lordly river, with its ceaseless moan.
Have all a power more potent than their own."

Running south along the east bank of the river, we
found a charming inn for dinner at Piedmont-on-the-
Hudson, the old Fort Comfort Hostelery, and the proprietor
directed us to take the Dykeman Street Ferry and thence
by Riverside Drive to New York and the Biltmore. His
directions were followed and in going down the bank to
take the ferry we were again astonished at the wonders of
America for we found a roadway cut zigzag in solid rock
down the palisades to the water's edge, at the foot of which
was the ferry, and were soon in New York.

Once again in the busy currents of life, a shade of regret
swept over our thoughts as we realized that the pleasure
of anticipation had passed before the vision of fulfilled
desire. But through life we will carry away the precious
memories of this journey in the footsteps of Frank Forester,
a journey over a trail which in future generations I am
sure other sportsmen will follow.

Harry Worcester Smith,
Fall 1918.

Tom Draw's gun, from a photograph

'A
<

Q
O
O

M
o

THE

MZ^^MQ©[f^ M®®©Q.^KJ©S

BY FRANK FORESTER

N E W - Y 0 R K :
STRINGER k TOWNSEND.

1S51.

THK

WARWICK WOODLANDS;

OR.

Uli|ingH UH tijty ui^r^ ti^nk*

TWENTY YEARS AGO

BY FRANK FORESTER.

NEW EDITION. REVISED AND CORRECTED

WITH
Jlluatratiane bi( thr Author

NEW YORK:
STRINGER & TOWNSEND,
222 Broadway.
1851.

ENTERED, according to act of Congress, in the year One Thousand Eight
Hundred and Fifty, by STRINGER & TOWNSEND, in the Clerk's Office of
the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York

THE WARWICK WOODLANDS

MY FIRST VISIT.

DAY THE FIRST.

It was a fine October evening when I was sitting on the
back stoop of his cheerful little bachelor's establishment in
Mercer street, with my old friend and comrade. Henry
Archer. Many a frown of fortune had we two weathered
out together; in many of her brightest smiles had we two
revelled — never was thei'e a stauncher -friend, a merrier
companion, a keener sportsman, or a better fellow, than
this said Harry ; and here had we two met, three thousand
miles from home, after almost ten years of separation, just
the same careless, happy, dare-all do-no-goods that we were
when we parted in St. James's street, — he for the West, I
for the Eastern World — he to fell trees, and build log huts
in the back-woods of Canada, — I to shoot tigei's and drink
arrack punch in the Carnatic. The world had wagged
with us as with most otliers : now up, now down, and laid
U3 to, at last, far enough from the goal for which we start-
ed— so that, as I have said already, on landing in New
York, having heard nothing of him for ten years, whom
the deuce should I tumble on but that same worthy, snugly
housed, with a neat bachelor's menage, and every thing
ship-shape about him ? — So, in the natural course of
things, we were at once inseparables.

Well, as I said before, it was a bright October evening,
with the clear sky, rich sunshine, and brisk breezy fresh-
ness, which indicate that loveliest of the American months,
— dinner was over, and wnth a pitcher of the liquid rub.y
of Latour, a brace of half-pint beakers, and a score — my
contribution — of those most exquisite of smokables, the

6 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

true old Manilla cheroots, we were consoling the inward
man in a way that would have opened the eyes, with ab-
horrent admiration, of any advocate of that coldest of
comforts — cold water — who should have got a chance peep
at our snuggery.

'Suddenly, after a long pause, during which he had been
stimulating his ideas by assiduous fumigation, blowing off
his steam in a long vapory cloud that curled, a minute
afterward about his temples, — "What say you, Frank, to a
start to-morrow?" exclaimed Harry, — "and a week's right
good shooting?"

"Why, as for that," said I, "I wish for nothing better —
but where the deuce would you go to get shooting ?"

"Never fash your beard, man," he replied, "I'll find the
ground and the game too, so you'll find share of the shoot-
ing !-^Holloa ! there— Tim, Tim Matlock."

And in brief space that worthy minister of mine host's
pleasures made his appearance, smoothing down his short
black hair, clipped in the orthodox bowl fashion, over his
bluff good-natured visage with one hand, while he em-
ployed its fellow in hitching up a pair of most voluminous
unmentionables, of thick Yorkshire cord.

A character was Tim — and now I think of it, worthy of
brief description. Bom, I believe — bred, certainly, in a
hunting stable, far more of his life passed in the saddle
than elsewhere, it was not a little characteristic of my
friend Harry to have selected this piece of Yorkshire od-
dity as his especial body servant; but if the choice were
queer, it was at least successful, for an honester, more
faithful, hard-working, and withal, better hearted, and
more humorous varlet never drew curry-comb over horse-
hide, or clothes-brush over broad-cloth.

His visage was, as I have said already, bluff and good-
natured, with a pair of hazel eyes, of the smallest — but, at
the same time, of the very merriest — twinkling from under
the thick black eye-brows, which were the only hairs
suffered to grace his clean-shaved countenance. An inde-
scribable pug nose, and a good clean cut mouth, with a
continual dimple at the left corner,- made up his phiz.
For the rest, four feet ten inches did Tim stand in his
stockings, about two-ten of which were monopolized by his
back, the shoulders of which would have done honor to a
six foot pugilist, — his legs, though short and bowed a little

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 7

outward, by continual hoi'se exercise, were riglit tough
serviceable members, and I have seen them bearing their
owner on through mud and mire, when straighter, longer,
and more fair propoitioned limbs were at an awful dis-
count.

Depositing his hat then on the tloor, smoothing his hair,
and hitching up his smalls, and striving most laboriously
not to grin till he should have cause, stood Tim, like
''Giafar awaiting Iii-s master's award!"

''Tim!" said Harrv Archer —

"Sur!" said Tim.

"Tim ! Mr. Forester and I are talking of going up to-
morrow— what do you say to itf

"Oop yonnerf queried Tim, in the most extraordinary
West-Riding Yorkshire, indicating the direction, by point-
ing his right thumb over his left shoulder — "Weel, Ay'se
nought to say aboot it — not Ay !"

■'Soh! the cattle are all right, and the wagon in good
trim and the dogs in exercise, are they?"

''Ay'se warrant um !"

"Well, then, have all ready for a start at six tomorrow,
— put Mr. Forester's Manton alongside my Joe Spurling
in the top tray of the case, my single gun and my double
rifle in the lower, and see the magazine well filled — the
Diamond gun-powder, you know, from Mr. Brough's.
You'll put up what Mr. Forester will want, for a week,
you know — he does not know the country yet, Tim; — and,
hark you, what wine have I at Tom Draw's?"

"No but a case of claret."

"I thought so, then away with you ! down to the Baron's
and get two baskets of the Star, and stop at Fulton Mar-
ket, and get the best half hundred round of spiced beef
you can find — and then go up to Starke's at the Octagon,
and get a gallon of his old Ferintosh — that's all, Tim — off
with you ! — No ! stop a minute !" and he filled up a beaker
and handed it to the original, who, shutting both his eyes,
suffered the fragrant claret to roll down his gullet in the
most scientific fashion, and then, with what he called a
bow, turned right about, and exit.

The sun rose bright on the next morning, and half an
hour before the appointed time, Tim entered my bed-
chamber, with a cup of mocha, and the intelligence that
''Measter had been oop this hour and better, and did na

8 WARWICK WOaOLANDS.

like to be kept waiting!" — so up I jumped, and scarcely-
had got through the business of rigging myself, before the
rattle of wheels announced the arrival of the wagon.

And a model was that shooting wagon — a long, light-
bodied box, with a low rail — a high seat and dash in front,
and a low servant's seat behind, with lots of room for four
men and as many dogs, with guns and luggage, and all ap-
pliances to boot, enough to last a month, stowed away out
of sight, and out of reach of weather. The nags, both
nearly thorough-bred, fifteen two inches high, stout, clean-
limbed, active animals — tJie off-side horse a gray, almost
snow-white — the near, a dark chestnut, nearly black — with
square docks setting admirably off their beautiful round
quarters, high crests, small blood-like heads, and long thin
manes — spoke volumes for Tim's stable science; for though
their ribs were slightly visible, their muscles were well
filled, and hard as granite. Their coats glanced in the
sunshine — the white's like statuary marble; the chestnut's
like high polished copper — in short the whole turn-out was
perfect.

The neat black harness, relieved merely by a crest, with
every strap that could be needed, in its place, and not one
buckle or one thong superfluous ; the bright steel curbs,
with the chains jingling as the horses tossed and pawed
impatient for a start; the tapering holly whip; the bear-
skins covering the seats; the top-coats spread above them —
every thing, in a word, without bordering on the slang, was
perfectly correct and gnastic.

Four dogs — a brace of setters of the light active breed,
one of which will out- work a brace of the large, lumpy,
heavy-headed dogs. — one red, the other white and liver,
both with black noses, their legs and sterns beautifully
feathered, and their hair, glossy and smooth as silk, show-
ing their excellent condition — and a brace of short-legged,
bony, liver-colored spaniels — with their heads thrust one
above the other, over or through the railings, and their
tails waving with impatient joy — occupied the after por-
tion of the wagon.

Tim, rigged in plain gray frock, with leathers and white
tops, stood, in true tiger fashion, at the horses' heads, with
the forefinger of his right hand resting upon the curb of
the gray horse, as with his left he rubbed the nose of the
chestnut; while Harry, cigar in mouth, was standing at

WARWICK WOODLANDS, 9

the wlieel, reviewing with a steady and experienced eye the
gear, which seemed to give him perfect satisfaction. The
moment I appeared on the steps,

■'In with you, Frank — in with you," he exclaimed, dis-
engaging the hand-reins from the ten*ets into which they
had been thrust, "I have been waiting here these five
minutes. Jvunp up, Tim !"

x\nd, gathering the reins up firmly, he mounted by the
wheel, tucked the top-coat about his legs, shook out the
long lash of his tandem whip, and lapped it up in good
style

"I always drive with one of these" — he said, half apolo-
getically, as I thought — ''they are so handy on the road
for the cur dogs, when you have setters with you — they
plague your life out else. Have you the pistol-case in,
Tim, for I don't see it?"

"All raight, sur," answered he, not over well pleased, as
it seemed, that it should even be suspected that he could
have forgotten any thing — "All raight !"

"Go along, then," cried Harry, and at the word the high
bred nags went off; and though my friend was too good
and too old a hand to worry his cattle at the beginning of
a long day's journey — many minutes had not passed before
we found ourselves on board the ferry-boat, steaming it
merrily towards the Jersey shore.

"A quarter past six to the minute," said Harry, as we
landed at Hoboken.

"Let Shot and Chase run, Tim, but keep the spaniels in
till we pass Haekensack."

"Awa wi ye, ye rascals," exclaimed Tim, and out went
the high blooded dogs upon the instant, yelling and jump-
ing in delight about the horses — and off we went, through
the long sandy street of Hoboken, leaving the private
race-course of that stanch sportsman, Mr. Stevens, on the
left, with several powerful horses taking their walking
exercise in their neat body clothes.

"That puts me in mind, Frank," said Harry, as he called
my attention to the thorough-breds, "we must be back next
Tuesday for the Beacon Races — the new course up there
on the hill ; you can see the steps that lead to it — and now
is not this lovely?" he continued, as we mounted the first
ridge of Weehawken, and looked back over the beautiful
broad Hudson, gemmed with a thousand snowy sails of

10 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

craft or shipping — "Is not this lovely, Frank ? and, by the
by, you will say, when we get to our journey's end, you
never drove through prettier scenery in your life. Get
away, Bob, you \dllain — nibbling, nibbling at your curb!
get away, lads!"

And away we went at a right rattjing pace over the hills,
and through the cedar swamp ; and, passing through a toll-
gate, stopped with a sudden jerk at a long low tavern on
the left-hand side.

"We must istop here, Frank. My old friend, Ingliss, a
brother trigger, too, would think the world was coming to
an end if I drove by — twenty-nine minutes these six
miles," he added, looking at his watch, "that will do !
Now, Tim, look sharp — just a sup of water! Good day —
good day to you, Mr. Ingliss ; now for a glass of your milk
punch" — and mine host disappeared, and in a moment
came forth with two rummers of the delicious compound,
a big bright lump of ice bobbing about in each among the
nutmeg.

"What, off again for Orange county, Mr. Archer? I was
telling the old woman yesterday that we should have you
by before long; well, you'll find cock pretty plenty, I ex-
pect; there was a chap by here from Ulster — let me see,
what day was it — ^Frida.y, I guess — with produce, and he
was telling, they have had no cold snap yet up there!
Thank .you, sir, good luck to you!"

And off we went again, along a level road, crossing the
broad, slow river from whence it takes its name, into the
town of Hackensack.

"We breakfast here, Frank"— as he pulled up beneath
the low Dutch shed projecting over half the road in front
of the neat tavern — "How are you, Mr. Vanderbeek — we
want a beefsteak, and a cup of te^ as quick as you can
give it us ; we'll make the tea ourselves ; bring in the black
tea. Tim — the nags as usual."

"Aye! aye! sur"— "tak them out — leave t' harness on, all
but their bridles," to an old gray-headed hostler. "Whisp
off their legs a bit ; Ay will be oot enoo !"

After as good a breakfast as fresh eggs, good country
bread — worth ten times the poor trash of city bakers —
prime butter, cream, and a fat steak could furnish, at a
cheap rate, and with a civil and obliging landlord, away
we went again over the red-hills — an infernal ugly road.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 11

sandy, and rough, and stony — for ten miles farther to New
Prospect.

"Now you shall see some scenery worth looking at,"
said Harry, as we started again, after watering the horses,
and taking in a bag with a peck of oats — "to feed at three
o'clock, Frank, when we stop to grub, which must do al
fresco — " my friend explained — "for the landlord, who
kept the only tavern on the road, went West this summer,
bit by the land mania, and there is now no stopping place
'twixt this and Warwick," naming the village for which
we were bound. "You got that beef boiled, Tim?"

"Ay'd been a fouil else, and aye so often oop t' road
too," answered he with a grin, "and t' moostard is mixed,
and t' pilot biscuit in, and a good bit o' Cheshire cheese!
wee's doo. Ay reckon. Ha ! ha ! ha !"

And now my friend's boast was indeed fulfilled; for
when we had driven a few miles farther, the country be-
came undulating, with many and bright streams of water;
the hill sides clothed with luxuriant woodlands, now in
their many-colored garb of autumn beauty ; the meadow-
land rich in unchanged fresh greenery — for the summer
had been mild and rainy — with here and there a buck-
wheat stubble showing its ruddy face, replete with promise
of a quail in the present, and of hot cakes in future; and
the bold chain of mountains, which, under many names,
but always beautiful and wild, sweeps from the Highlands
of the Hudson, west and southwardly, quite through New
Jersey, forming a link between the White and Green
Mountains of New Hampshire and Vermont, and the more
famous Alleghanies of the South.

A few miles farther yet, the road wheeled round the
base of the Toume Mountain, a magnificent bold hill, with
a bare craggy head, its sides and skirts thick set with
cedars and hickory — entering a defile through which the
Ramapo, one of the loveliest streams eye ever looked upon,
comes rippling with its crystal waters over bright pebbles,
on its way to join the two kindred rivulets which form
the fair Passaic. Throughout the whole of that defile,
nothing can possibly surpass the loveliness of nature; the
road hard, and smooth, and level, winding and wheeling
parellel to the gurgling river, crossing it two or three
times iia each mile, now on one side, and now on the
other — the valley now barely broad enough to permit the

12 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

highway and the stream to pass between the abrupt
masses of rock and forest, and now expanding into rich
basins of green meadow-land, the deepest and most fertile
possible — the hills of every shape and size — here bold, and
bare, and rocky — there swelling up in grand round masses,
pile above pile of verdure, to the blue firmament of au-
tumn. By and by we drove through a thriving little vil-
lage, nestling in a hollow of the hills, beside a broad bright
pond, whose waters keep a dozen manufactories of cotton
and of iron — with which mineral these hills abound — in
constant operation; and passing by the tavern, the de-
parture of whose owner Harry had so pathetically mourned,
we wheeled again round a projecting spur of hill into a
narrower defile, and reached another hamlet, far different
in its aspect from the busy bustling place we had left some
five miles behind.

There were some twenty houses, with two large mills of
solid masonry; but of these not one building was now
tenanted; the roof -trees broken, the doors and shutters
either torn from their hinges, or flapping wildly to and
fro ; the mill wheels cumbering the stream with masses of
decaying timber, and the whole presenting a most desolate
and mournful aspect.

"Its storj' is soon told," Harry said, catching my inquir-
ing glance — "a speculating, clever New York merchant — a
water-power — a failure — and a consequent desertion of the
project; but we must find a birth among the ruins!"

And as he spoke, turning a little off the road, he pulled
up on the green sward ; "there's an old stable here that has
a manger in it yet! Now Tim, look sharp!"

And in a twinkling the horses were loosed from the
wagon, the harness taken off and hanging on the corners
of the ruined hovels, and Tim hissing and rubbing away
at the gray horse, while Harry did like duty on the chest-
nut, in a style tliat would have done no shame to Melton
Mowbray !

"Come, Frank, make yourself useful ! Get out the
round of beef, and all the rest of the provant — it's on the
rack behind ; you'll find all right there. Spread our table-
cloth on that flat stone by the waterfall, under the willow ;
clap a couple of bottles of the Baron's champag-ne into
the pool there underneath the fall; let's see whether your

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 13

Indian campaigning has taught you anything worth
knowing."

To work I went at once, anci by the time I had got
tlirough — "Come, Tim," I heard him say, "I've got the
rough dirt off this fellow, you must polish him, while I
take a wash, and get a bit of dinner. Holloa ! Frank, are
you ready !"

And he came bounding down to the water's edge, with
his Newmarket coat in hand, and sleeves rolled up to the
elbows, plunged his face into the cool stream, and took a
good wash of his soiled hands in the same natural basin.
Five minutes afterward we were .employed most pleasantly
with the spiced beef, white biscuit, and good wine, which
came out of the waterfall as cool as a Ounter could have
nxade it with all his icing. When we had pretty well got
tlirough, and were engaged with our cheroots, up came
Tim Matlock.

"T' horses have got through wi' t' corn — they have fed
rarely — ^so I harnessed them, sur, all to the bridles — we
ca start when you will."

"Sit down, and get your dinner then, sir — there's a
heel-tap in that bottle we have left for you — and when you
have done, put up the things, and we'll be off. I say,
Frank, let us try a shot with the pistols — I'll get the ease
— stick up that fellow-commoner upon the fence there,
and mark off a twenty paces."

The marking irons were produced, and loaded — "Fire —
one — two — three" — bang! and the shivering of the glass
announced that never more would that chap hold the gen-
erous liquor; the ball had struck it plump in the centre,
and broken off the whole above the shoulder, for it was
fixed neck downward on the stake.

"It is my turn now," said I ; and more by luck, I fancy,
than by skill, I took the neck off, leaving nothing but the
thick ring of the mouth still sticking on the summit of
the fence.

"I'll hold you a dozen of my best Regalias against as
many of Manillas, that I break the ring."

"Done. Harry!"

"Done!"

Again the pistol cracked, and the unerring ball drove
the small fragment into a thousand splinters.

"That fotched 'um!" exclaimed Tim, who had come up

14 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

to announce all ready. "Ecod, measter Frank, you munna
wager i' that gate* wi' master, or my name beant Tim,
but tbou'lt be clean bamboozled."

Well, not to make a short story long, we got under way
again, and, with speed unabated, spanked along at full
twelve miles an hour for five miles farther. There, down
a wild looking glen, on the left hand, comes brawling, over
stump and stone, a tributary streamlet, by the side of
which a rough track, made by the charcoal burners and
the iron miners, intersects the main road; and up this
miserable looking path, for it was little more, Harry
wheeled at full trot.

"Now for twelve miles of mountain, the roughest road
and wildest country you ever saw crossed in a phaeton,
good master Frank."

And wild it was. indeed and rough enough in all con-
science; narrow, unfenced in many places, winding along
the brow of precipices without rail or breast-work, encum-
bered with huge blocks of stone, and broken by the summer
rains ! An English stage coachman would have stared
aghast at the steep zigzags up the hills, the awkward turns
on the descents, the sudden pitches, with now an unsafe
bridge, and now a stony ford at the bottom; but through
all this, the delicate quick finger, keen eye, and cool head
of HaiTy, assisted by the rare mouths of his exquisitely
bitted cattle, piloted us at the rate of full ten miles the
hour; the scenery, through which the wild track ran, being
entirely of the most wild and savage character of wood-
land; the bottom filled with gigantic timber trees, cedar,
and pine, and hemlock, with a dense undergrowth of
rhododendron, calmia, and azalia, which, as my friend in-
formed me, made the whole mountains in the summer
season one rich bed of bloom. About six miles from the
point where we had entered them we scaled the highest
ridge of the hills, by three almost precipitous zigzags, the
topmost ledge paved by a stratum of broken shaley lime-
stone; and, passing at once from the forest into well
cultivated fields, came on a new and lovelier prospect — a
narrow deep vale scarce a mile in breadth — scooped, as it
were, out of the mighty mountains which embosomed it
on every side — in the highest state of culture, with rich
orchards, and deep meadows, and brown stubbles, whereon

*Gate — Yorkshire! Anglice way!

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 15

the shocks of maize stood fair and frec^ueut; and west-
ward of the road, which, diving down obliquely to the
bottom, loses itself in the woods of the opposite hill-side,
and only becomes visible again when it emerges to cross
over the next summit — the loveliest sheet of water my
eyes has ever seen, varying from half a mile to a mile in
breadth, and about five miles long, with shores indented
deeply with the capes and promontories of the wood-
clothed hills, which sink abruptly to its very margin.

"That is the Greenwood Lake, Frank, called by the
monsters here Long Pond ! — ^'he fiends receive their souls
therefor,' as Walter Scott says — in my mind prettier than
Lake George by far, though known to few except chance
sportsmen like myself! Full of fish, perch of a pound in
weight, and yellow bass in the deep waters, and a good
sprinkling of trout, towards this end! Ellis Ketchum
killed a five-pounder there this spring ! and heaps of sum-
mer-duck, the loveliest in plumage of the genus, and the
best too, me jiidice, excepting only the inimitable canvass-
back. There are a few deer, too, in the hills, though they
are getting scarce of late j'ears. There, from that head-
land, I killed one, three summers since; I was placed at a
stand by the lake's edge, and the dogs drove him right
down to me; but I got too eager, and he heard or saw me,
and so fetched a turn ; but they were close upon him, and
the day was hot, and he was forced to soil. I never saw
him till he was in the act of leaping from a bluff of ten
or twelve feet into the deep lake, but I pitched up my
rifle at him, a snap shot ! as I would my gun at a cock in
a summer brake, and by good luck sent my ball through
his heart. There is a finer view yet when we cross this
hill, the Bellevale mountain : look out, for we are just
upon it; there! Now admire!"

And on the summit he pulled up, and never did I see
a landscape more extensively magnificent. Ridge after
ridge the mountain sloped down from our feet into a vast
rich basin ten miles at least in breadth, by thirty, if not
more, in length, girdled on every side by mountains — the
whole diversified with wood and water, meadow, and
pasture-land, and cornfield — studded with small white
villages — with more than one bright lakelet glittering like
beaten gold in the declining sun. and several isolated hills
standing up boldly from the vale!

16 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"Glorious indeed ! Most glorious !" I exclaimed.

"Right, Frank," he said; "a man may travel many a
day, and not see any thing to beat the vale of Sugar-loaf —
so named from that cone-like hill, over the pond there —
that peak is eight hundred feet above tide water. Those
blue hills, to the far right, are the Hudson Highlands;
that bold bluff is the far-famed Anthony's Nose; that
ridge across the vale, the second ridge I mean, is the
Shawangunks; and those three rounded summits, farther
yet — those are the Kaatskills! But now a truce with the
romantic, for there lies Warwick, and this keen mountain
air has found me a fresh appetite!"

Away we went again, rattling down tlie hills, nothing
daunted at their steep pitches, with the nags just as fresh
as when they started, champing and snapping at their
curbs, till on a table-land above the brook, with the tin
steeple of its church peering from out the massy foliage of
sycamore and locust, the haven of our journey lay before
us.

"Hilloa, hill-oa ho ! whoop ! who-whoop !" and with a
cheery shout, as we clattered across the wooden bridge, he
roused out half the population of the village.

"Ya ha ha ! — ya yah !" yelled a great woolly-headed coal-
black negro. "Here 'm massa Archer back again — massa
ben well, I spect — "

"Well — to be sure I have, Sam," cried Harry. "How's
old Poll? Bid her come up to Draw's to-morrow night —
I've got a red and yellow frock for her — a deuce of a
concern !"

"Ya ha ! yah ha ha yaah !" and amid a most discordant
chorus of African merriment, we passed by a neat farm-
house shaded by two glorious locusts on the right, and a
new red brick mansion, the pride of the viUage, with a
flourishing store on the left — and wheeled up to the fam-
ous Tom Draw's tavern — a long white house with a piazza
six feet wide, at the top of eight steep steps, and a one-
story kitchen at the end of it; a pump with a gilt pine-
apple at the top of it, and horse-trough; a wagon shed
and stable sixty feet long; a sign post with an indescrib-
able female figure swinging upon it, and an ice house over
the way!

Such was the house, before which we pulled up just as
the sun was setting, amid a gabbling of ducks, a barking

WARWICK WOODLANDS. IT

of ten"iers, mixed with the deep bay of two or three huge
heavy foxhounds which had been lounging' about in tlie
shade, and a peal of joyous welcome from all beings,
quadruped or bipe<l, within hearing.

"Hulloa ! boys!" cried a deep hearty voice from within
the bar-room. "Hulloa! boys! Walk in! walk in! Wliat
the eternal h — 11 are you about there?"

"Well, we did walk into a large neat bar-room, with a
bright hickory log crackling upon tlie hearth-stone, a large
round table in one corner, covered with draught-boards,
and old newspapers, among which showed pre-eminent the
"Spirit of the Times'' ; a range of pegs well stored with
great-coats, fishing-rods, whips, game-bags, spurs and ev-
ery other stray appurtenance of sporting, gracing one end ;
while the other was more gaily decorated by the well fur-
nished bar, in the right-hand angle of which my eye de-
tected in an instant a handsome nine pound double barrel,
an old six foot Queen Ann's tower-musket, and a long
smooth-bored rifle ; and last, not least, outstretched at easy
length upon the counter of his bar, to the left-hand of the
gangway — the right side being more suitably decorated
with tumblers, and decanters of strange compounds —
supine, with fair round belly towering upward, and head
voluptously pillowed on a heap of wagon cushions— lay in
his gloiy — but no! hold! — the end of a chapter is no place
to introduce — Tom Draw!*

*It is almost a painful task to read over and revise this chapter.
The "twenty years ago" is too keenly visible to the mind's eye in
every line. Of the persons mentioned in its pages, more than one
have passed away from our world forever : and even the natural
features; of rock, wood, and river, in other countries so vastly more
enduring than their perishable owners, have been so much altered by
the march of improvement. Heaven save the mark ! that the travel-
ler up the Erie railroad, will certainly not recognise in the descrip-
tion of the vale of Ramapo, the hill-sides all denuded of their leafy
honors, the bright streams dammed by unsightly mounds and changed
into foul stagnant pools, the snug country tavern deserted for a huge
hideous barnlike depot, and all the lovely sights and sweet harmo-
nies of nature defaced and drowned by the deformities consequent on
a railroad, by the disgusting roar and screech of the steam-engine.

One word to the wise I Let no man be deluded by the following
pages, into the setting forth for Warwick now in search of sporting.
These things are strictly as they were twenty years ago! Mr. Seward,
in his zeal for the improvement of Chalauque and Cattaraugus, has
certainly dp^troyed the cnck-shooting of Orange county. A sports-
man's benison to him therefor!

18 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

DAY THE SECOND.

Much as I had heard of Tom Draw, I was I must con-
fess, taken altogether aback when I, for the first time, set
eyes upon him. I had heard Harry Ai'cher talk of him
fifty times as a crack shot ; as a top sawyer at a long day's
fag; as the man of all others he would choose as his mate,
if he were to shoot a match, two against two — what then
was my astonishment at beholding this worthy, as he
reared himself slowly from his recumbent position ? It is
true, I had heard his sobriquet, "Fat Tom," but, Heaven
and Earth ! such a mass of beef and brandy as stood before
me, I had never even dreamt of. About five feet six inches
at the very utmost in the perpendicular, by six or — "by'r
lady" — nearer seven in circumference, weighing, at the
least computation, two hundred and fifty pounds, with a
broad jolly face, its every feature — well-formed and hand-
some, rather than otherwise — mantling with an expression
of the most perfect excellence of heart and temper, and
overshadowed by a vast mass of brown hair, sprinkled
pretty well with gray! — Down he plumped from the
counter with a thud that made the whole floor shake, and
with a hand outstretched, that might have done for a
Goliah, out he strode to meet us.

"Why, hulloa! hulloa ! Mr. Archer," shaking his hand
till I thought he would have dragged the arm clean out
of the socket — "How be you, boy ? How be you ?"

"Kight well, Tom, can't you see? Why confound you,
you've gTowu twenty pound heavier since Jul.v ! — but here,
I'm losing all my manners! — this is Frank Forester, whom
you have heard me talk about so often! He dropped
down here out of the moon, Tom, I believe! at least I
thought about as much of seeing the man in the moon, as
of meeting him in this wooden country — but here he is, as
you see, come all the way to ""take a look at the natives.
And so, you see, as you're about the gi-eatest curiosity I
know of in these parts, I brought him straight up here to
take a peep! Look at him, Frank — look at him well!
Now. did you ever see, in all your life, so extraordinary
an old devil ? — and yet, Frank, which no man could pos-
sibly believe, the old fat animal has some good points
aboiit him — he can walk some! shoot, as he says, first
best! and drink — good Lord, how he can drink!"

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 19

"And that reminds me," exclaimed Tom, who with a
ludicrous mixture of pleasure, bashfulness, and mock
anger, had been listening to what he evidently deemed a
high encomium; "that we hav'nt drinked yet; have you
quit drink, Archer, since I was to York? What'll you
take, Mr. Forester? Gin? yes, I have got some prime gin!
You never sent me up them groceries though, Archer, well,
then, here's luck! What, Yorkshire, is that you? I
should ha' thought now, Archer, you'd have cleared that
lazy Injun out afore this time!"

"Whoy, measter Draa — what 'na loike's that kind o'talk ?
— coom coom now, where'll Ay tak t' things tull ?"

"Put Mr. Forester's box in the bed-room off the parlor
— mine up stairs, as usual," cried Archer. "Look sharp
and get the traps out. Now, Tom, I suppose you have got
no supper for us ?"

"Cooper, Cooper! you snooping little devil," yelled Tom,
addressing his second hope, a fine dark-eyed, bright-look-
ing lad of ten or twelve years; "Don't you see Mr. Archer's
come? — away with you and light the pai-lor fire, look smart
now, or I'll cure you! Supper — you're always eat! eat!
eat! or. drink! di'ink ! — drunk! Yes! supper; we've got
pork ! and chickens "

"Oh! d — n your pork," said I, "salt as the ocean I sup-
pose!" "And double d^n your chickens," chimed in
Harry, "old superannuated cocks which must be caught
now, and then beheaded, and then soused into hot water
to fetch off the feathers; and save you lazy devils the
trouble of picking them. N'o, no, Tom ! get us some fresh
meat for to-morrow; and for to-night let us have some hot
potatoes, and some bread and butter, and we'll find beef;
eh, Frank? and now look sharp, for we must be up in
good time to-morrow, and, to be so, we must to bed be-
times. And now, Tom, are there any cock?"

"Cock! yes, I guess there be, and quail, too, pretty
plenty, quite a smart chance of them, and not a shot fired
among them this fall, any how!"

"Well, which way must we beat to-morrow ? I calculate
to shoot three days with you here; and, on Wednesday
night, when we get in, to hitch up and drive into Sulli-
van, and see if we can't get a deer or two ! You'll go,
Tom ?"
"Well, well, we'll see any how ; but for tomorrow, why,

20 WARWICK WOODLAXDS.

I guess we must beat the 'Squire's swamp-hole first;
there's ten or twelve cock there, I know; I see them there
myself last Sunday; and then aerost them buck-wheat
stubbles, and the big bog meadow, there's a drove of quail
there; two or three bevys got in one, I reckon; leastwise
I counted thirty-three last Friday was a week; and
through Seer's big swamp, over to the great spring!"

"How is Seer's swamp? too wet, I fancy," Archer inter-
posed, "at least I noticed, from the mountain, that all the
leaves were changed in it, and that the maples were quite
bare."

"Pretty fair, pretty fair, I guess," replied stout Tom, "I
harnt been there myself though, but Jem was down with
the hoimds arter an old fox t'other day, and sure enough
he said the cock kept flopping up quite thick afore him;
but then the critter will lie, Harry; he ivill lie like thun-
der, you know ; but somehow I concaits there be cock there
too; and then, as I was saying, we'll stop at the great
spring and get a bite of summat, and theii beat Hell-hole ;
youll have sport there for sartin ! What dogs have you got
with you, Harry?"

"Your old friends. Shot and Chase, and a couple of
spaniels for thick covert !"

"Now gentlemen, your suppers are all ready."

"Come, Tom," cried Archer; "you must take a bite with
us — Tim, bring us in three bottles of champagne, and lots
of ice, do you hear?"

And the next moment we found ourselves installed in a
snug parlor, decorated with a dozen sporting prints, a blaz-
ing hickory fire snapping and sputtering and roaring in a
huge Franklin stove; our luggage safely stowed in various
comers, and Archer's double gun-case propped on two
chairs below the window.

An old-fashioned round table, covered with clean white
linen of domestic manufacture, displayed the noble round
of beef which we had brought up with ufi, flanked by a
platter of magnificent potatoes, pouring forth volumes of
dense steam through the cracks in their dusky skins; a
lordly dish of butter, that might have pleased the appetite
of Sisera; while eggs and ham, .and pies of apple, mince-
meat, cranberry, and custard, occupied every vacant space,
?ave wherp two ponderous pitchers, mantling with ale and
eider, and two respectable square bottles labelled "Old

U VKU KK Wudlll.AMt.v. 21

Rum'' and "Brandy — 1817," relieved the prospect. Before
we had sat down, Timothy entered, bearing a horse bucket
filled to the brim with ice, from whence protruded the
long- necks and split corks of three champagne bottles.

''Now, Tim," said Archer, "get your own supper, when
you've finished with the cattle; feed the dog's well to-night;
and then to bed. And hark you, call me at five in the
morning; we shall want you to carry the game bag and
the drinkables; take care of yourself. Tim, and good
night !"

"No need to tell him that." cried Tom, "he's something
like yourself; / tell you. Archer, if Tim ever dies of thirst,
it must be where there is nothing wet, but water!"

"(Now hark to the old scoundrel, Frank," said Archer,
•'hark to him pray, and if he doesn't out-eat both of us.
and out-drink anything you ever saw. may I miss my first
bird to-morrow — that's all ! Give me a slice of beef,
Frank; that old Goth would cut it an inch thick, if I let
him touch it ; out with a cork, Tom ! Here's to our sport
to-morrow !"

"Uh ; that goes good !" replied Tom, with an oath, which,
by the apparent gusto of the speaker, seemed to betoken
that the wine had tickled his palate — "that goes good!
that's different from the darned red trash you left up
here last time."

"And of which you liave left none, I'll be bound," an-
swered Archer, laughing; "my best Latour. Frank, which
the old infidel calls trash."

"It's all below, every bottle of it," answered Tom : "I
wouldn't use such rot-gut stuff, no, not for vinegar. 'Taint
half so good as that red sherry you had up here oncet;
that was poor weak stuff, too, but it did well to make milk
I)unch of; it did well instead of milk."

"Now. Frank," said Archer, "you won't believe me, that
I knoii>: but it's true, all the same. A year ago, this
autumn. I brought up five gallons of exceedingly stout.
rather fiery, young, brown shen-y — draught wine, you
know! — and what did Tom do here, but mix it, half and
half, with brandy, nutmeg, and sugar, and drink it for
milk punch!"

•'I did .so, by the eternal," replied Tom, bolting a huge
lump of beef, in order to enable himself to answer — "I did
.1(1. :ind irood milk punch it made, too, but it was too

22 U Al;\\ K K \\<nil)J,AM>S.

weak! Come, Mr. Forester, we harn't drinked yet, and
I'm kind o' gittin dry!"

And now the mirth waxed fast and furious — the cham-
pagne speedily was finished, the supper things cleared off,
hot water and Starke's Ferintosh succeeded, cheroots were
lighted, we drew closer in about the fire, and, during the
circulation of two tumblers — for to this did Harry limit
us, having the prospect of unsteady hands and aching
heads before him for the morrow — never did I hear more
genuine and real humor, than went round our meiTy trio.

Tom Draw, especially, though all his jokes were not
such altogether as I can venture to insert in my chaste
paragraphs, and though at times his oaths were too ex-
travagantly rich to brook repetition, shone forth resplen-
dent. No longer did I wonder at what I had before deemed
Harry Archer's strange hallucination; Tom Draw is a
decided genius — rough as a pine knot in his native woods
— but full of mirth, of shrewdness, of keen mother wit, of
hard horse sense, and last, not least, of the most genuine
milk of human kindness. He is a rough block ; but, as
Harry says, there is solid timber under the uncouth bark
enough to make five hundred men, as men go now-a-days
■in cities!

At ten o'clock, thanks to the excellent precautions of my
friend Harry, we were all snugly berthed, before the
whiskey, which had well justified the high praise I had
heard lavished on it, had made any serious inroads on our
understanding, but not before we had laid in a qv-antwm
to insure a good night's rest.

Bright and early was I on foot the next day, but before
I liad half dressed myself I was assured, by the clatter of
the breakfast things, that Archer had again stolen a march
upon me; and the next moment my bed-room door, driven
open b,y the thick boot of that worthy, gave me a full
view of his person — arrayed in a stout fustian jacket —
with half a dozen pockets in full view, and Heaven only
knows how many more lying perdu in the broad skirts.
Knee-breeches of the same material, with laced half-boots
and leather leggins, set off his stout calf and well turned
ankle.

"Up! up! Frank." he exclaimed, "it is a morning of ten
thousand; there has been quite a heavy dew, and by the
time we are afoot it will be well evaporated; and then the

WARWICK WOODLANDS, 23

scent will lie, I promise you ! make haste, I tell you,
breakfast is ready!"

Stimulated by his hurrying voice. I soon completed my
toilet, and entering the parlor found Harry busily em-
ployed in stirring to and fro a pound of powder on one
heated dinner plate, while a second was undergoing the
process of preparation on the hearth-stone under a glowing
pile of hickory ashes.

At the side-table, covered with guns, dog-whips, nipple-
wrenches, and the like, Tim, rigged like his master, in half
boots and leggins, but with a short roundabout of velveteen,
in place of the full-skirted jacket, was filling our shot-
pouches b.y aid of a capacious funnel, more used, as its
odor betokened, to facilitate the passage of gin or Jamaica
spirits than of so sober a material as cold lead.

At the same moment entered mine host, togged for the
field in a huge pair of cow-hide boots, reaching almost to
the knee, into the tops of which were tucked the lower
ends of a pair of trowsers, containing yards enough of
buflfalo-cloth to have eked out the main-sail of a North
River sloop; a waistcoat and single-breasted jacket of the
same material, with a fur cap, completed his attire ; but in
his hand he bore a large decanter filled with a pale yellow-
ish liquor, embalming a dense mass of fine and worm-like
threads, not very diiferent in appearance from the best
vermicelli.

"Come, boys, come — here's your bitters," he exclaimed;
and as if to set the example, fiJled a big tumbler to the
brim, gulped it down as if it had been water, smacked his
lips, and incontinently tendered it to Archer, who, to my
great amazement, filled himself likewise a more moderate
draught, and quaffed it without hesitation.

"That's good, Tom," he said, pausing after the first sip;
"that's the best I ever tasted here; how old's that f

"Five years!" Tom replied: "five years last fall ! Daddy
Tom made it out of my own best apples — take a horn, Mr.
Forester he added, turning to me — "it's first best cider
sperits — better a darned sight than that Scotch stuff you
make such an eternal fuss about, toting it up here every
time, as if we'd nothing fit to drink in the covmtry!"

And to my sorrow I did taste it — old apple whiskey,
with Lord knows how much snake-root soaked in it for
five years! They may talk, about gall being bitter; but,

24 AVARWICK WOODLANDS.

by all that's wonderful, there was enough of the amari
aliquid in this fonte, to me by no means of loporum, to have
given an extra touch of bitterness to all the gall beneath
the canopy; and with my mouth puckered up, till it was
like anything on earth but a mouth, I set the glass down
on the table; and for the next five minutes could do no-
thing but shake my head to and fro like a Chinese
mandarin, amidst the loud and prolonged roars of laughter,
that burst like thunder claps from the huge jaws of Thom-
as Draw, and the subdued and half respectful cachinna-
tions of Tim Matlock.

By the time I had got a little better, the black tea was
ready, and with thick cream, hot buckwheat cakes, beauti-
ful honey, and — as a stand by — the still venerable round,
we made out a very tolerable meal.

This done, with due deliberation Archer supplied his
several pockets with their accustomed load — the clean-
punched wads in this — in that the Wesley Richards caps
— here a pound horn of powder — there a shot-pouch on
Sykes lever principle, with double mouth-piece — in an-
other, screw-driver, nipple-wrench, and the spare cones;
and, to make up the tale, dog-whip, dram-bottle, and silk
handkerchief in the sixth and last.

"Nothing like method in this world,' said Harry, clap-
ping his low-crowned broad-brimmed moliair cap upon his
head ; "take my word for it. Now, Tim, what have you
got in the bag?"

"A bottle of champagne, sur," answered Tim, who was
now employed slinging a huge fustian game-bag, with a
net-work front, over his right shoulder, to counterbalance
two full shot-belts which were already thrown across the
other — "a bottle of champagne, sur — a cold roast chicken
— t' Cheshire cheese — and t' pilot biscuits. Is your dram-
bottle filled wi' t' whiskey, please sur?"

"Aye, aye, Tim. Now let loose the dogs — carry a pair
of couples and a leash along with you ; and mind you,
gentlemen, Tim carries shot for all hands; and luncheon
— but each one finds his own powder, caps, &c. ; and any
one who wants a dram, carries his own — the devil a-one
of you gets a sup out of my bottle, or a charge out of my
flask! That's right, old Trojan, isn't it?" with a good
slap on Tom's broad shoulder.

"Shot! Shot— why Shot! don't you know me, old dog?"

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 26

cried Tom, as the two setters bounded into the room, joy-
ful at their release — '''good dog! good Chase!" feeding
them with great lumps of beef.

"Avast! there Tom — have done with that," cried Harry;
"you'll have the dogs so full that they can't run.

"Why, how'd you like to hunt all day without your
breakfast — hey f

"Here, lads! here, lads! wh-e-ew!" and followed by his
setters, with his gun under his arm, away went Harry;
and catching up our pieces likewise, we followed, nothing
loth, Tim bringing up the rear with the two spaniels fret-
ting in their couples, and a huge black thorn cudgel,
which he had brought, as he informed me, "all t' way
from bonny Cawoods."

It was as beautiful a morning as ever lighted sportsmen
to their labors. The dew, exhaled already from the long
grass, still glittered here and there upon the shrubs and
trees, though a soft fresh south-western breeze was shak-
ing it thence momently in bright and rustling showers; the
sun, but newly risen, and as yet partially enveloped in the
thin gauze-like mists so frequent at that season, was cast-
ing shadows, seemingly endless, from every object that
intercepted his low rays, and chequering the whole land-
scape with that play of light and shade, which is the love-
liest accessory to a lovely scene; and lovely was the scene,
indeed, as e'er was looked upon by painter's or by poet's
eye — how then should humble prose do justice to it ?

Seated upon the first slope of a gentle hill, midway of
the great valley heretofore described, the village looked
due south, toward the chains of moimtains, which we had
crossed on the preceding evening, and which in that direc-
tion bounded the landscape. These ridges, cultivated half-
way up their swelling sides, which lay mapped out before
our eyes in all the various beauty of orchards, yellow
stubbles, and rich pastures dotted with sleek and comely
cattle, were rendered yet more lovely and romantic, by
here and there a woody gorge, or rocky chasm, channelling
their smooth flanks, and carrying down their tributary
rills, to swell the main stream at their base. Toward
these we took our way by the same road which we had
followed in an opposite direction on the previous night —
but for a short space only — for having crossed the stream,
by the same bridge which we had passed on entering the

26 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

village, Tom Draw pulled down a set of bars to the left,
and strode out manfully into the stubble.

"Hold up, good lads! — whe-ew — whewt!" and away
went the setters through the moist stubble, heads up and
stems down, like fox-hounds on a breast-high scent, yet
under the most perfect discipline; for at the vei'y first
note of Harry's whistle, even when racing at the top of
their pace, they would turn simultaneously, alter their
course, cross each other at right angles, and quarter the
whole field, leaving no foot of ground unbeaten.

No game, however, in this instance, rewarded their ex-
ertions; and on we went across a meadow, and two other
stubbles, with the like result. But now we crossed a gen-
tle hill, and, at its base, came on a level tract, containing
at the most ten acres of marsh land, overgi-own with high
coarse grass and flags. Beyond this, on the right, was a
steep rocky hillock, covered with tall and thrifty timber of
some thirty years' growth, but wholly free from under-
wood. Along the left-hand fence ran a thick belt of un-
derwood, sumach and birch, with a few young oak trees
interspersed; but in the middle of the swampy level, cov-
ering at most some five or six acres, was a dense circular
thicket composed of every sort of thorny bush and shrub,
matted with cat-briers and wild vines, and overshadowed
by a clump of tall and leafy ashes, which had not as ye;t
lost one atom of their foliage, although the underwood be-
neath them was quite sere and leafless.

"Now then," cried Harry, "this is the 'Squire's swam^ -
hole!' Now for a dozen cock! hey, Tom? Here, couple
up the setters, Tim; and let the spaniels loose. Now
Flash! now Dan! down charge, you little villains!" and
the well broke brutes dropped on the instant. "How must
we beat this cursed hole?"

"You must go through the very thick of it, concarn
you!" exclaimed Tom; "at your old work already, hey?
trying to shirk at first !"

"Don't swear so! you old reprobate! I know my place,
depend on it," cried Archer; "but what to do with the
rest of you! — there's the rub!"

"Not a bit of it," cried Tom— "here, Yorkshire— Duck-
legs — here, what's your name — get away you with those
big dogs — atwixt the swamp hole, and the brush there by
the fence, and look out that you mark every bird to an

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 27

inch ! You, Mr. Forester, go in there, under that butter-
nut; you'll find a blind track there, right through the
brush — keep that 'twixt Tim and Mr. Archer; and keep
your eyes skinned, do! there'll be a cock up before you're
ten yards in. Archer, you'll go right through and I'll "

"You'll keep well forward on the right — and mind that
no bird crosses to the hill; we never get them, if th§y
once get over. All right ! In with you now ! Steady,
Flash ! steady ! hie up, Dan !" and in a moment Plarry
was out of sight among the brush-wood, though his pro-
gress might be traced by the continual crackling of the
thick underwood.

Scarce had I passed the butter-nut, when, even as Tom
had said, up flapped a woodcock scarcely ten yards before
me, in the open path, and rising heavily to clear the
branches of a tall thorn bush, showed me his full black
eye, and tawny breast, as fair a shot as could be fancied.

"Mark!" holloaed Harry to my right, his quick ear
having caught the flap of the bird's wing, as he I'ose.
"Mark cock—Frank!"

Well — steadily enough, as I thought, I pitched my gun
up ! covered my bird fairly ! pulled ! — the trigger gave not
to my finger. I tried the other. Devil's in it, I had for-
got to cock my gun! and ere I could retrieve my error,
the bird had topped the bush, and dodged out of sight,
and off — "Mark ! mark ! — Tim !" I shouted.

"Ey ! ey ! sur — Ay see's um !"

"Why, how's that, Frank f cried Harry. Couldn't you
get a shot?"

"Forgot to cock my gun!" I cried; but at the self-same
moment the quick sharp yelping of the spaniels came on
my ear. "Steady, Flash! steady, sir! Mark!" But close
upon the word came the full round report of Harry's gun.
"Mark ! again !" shouted Harry, and again his own piece
sent its loud ringing voice abroad. "Mark! now a third!
mark, Frank!"

And as he spoke I caught the quick rush of his wing,
and saw him dart across a space, a few yards to my right.
I felt my hand shake; I had not pulled a trigger in ten
months, but in a second's space I rallied. There was an
opening just before me between a stumpy thick thorn-bush
which had saved the last bird, and a dwarf cedar; it was
not two yards over; he glanced across it; he was gone.

28 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

just as my barrel sent its charge into the splintered
branches.

"Beautiful !" shouted Harry, who, looking through a
cross glade, saw the bird fall, which I could not. ''Beau-
tiful shot, Frank! Do all your work like that, and we'll
get twenty couple before night!"

"Have I killed him !' answered I, half doubting if he
were not quizzing me.

"Killed him? of course you have; doubled him up com-
pletely ! But look sharp ! there are more birds before me !
I can hardly keep the dogs down, now ! There ! there goes
one — clean out of shot of me, though! Mark! mark,
Tom ! Gad, how the fat dog's running !" he continued.
"He sees him! Ten to one he gets him! There he goes
— bang! A long shot, and killed clean!"

"Ready !" cried I. "I'm ready, Archer !"

"Bag your bird, then. He lies under that dock leaf, at
the foot of yon red maple ! That's it ; you've got him.
Steady now, till Tom gets loaded !"

"What did you do?" asked I. "You fired twice, I
think !"

"Killed two !" he answered. "Ready, now '"' and on he
went, smashing away the boughs before him, while ever
and anon I heard his cheery' voice, calling or whistling to
his dogs, or rousing up the tenants of some thickets into
which even he could not force his way; and I, creeping,
as best I might, among the tangled brush, now plunging
half thigh deep in holes full of tenacious mire, now
blundering over the moss-covered stubs, pressed forward,
fancying every instant that the rustling of the briers
against my jacket was the flip-flap of a rising woodcock.
Suddenly, after bursting through a mass of thorns and
wild-vine, which was in truth almost impassable, I came
upon a little grassy spot quite clear of trees, and covered
with the tenderest verdure, through which a narrow rill
stole silently ; and as I set my first foot on it, up jumped,
with his beavitiful variegated back all reddened by the
sunbeams, a fine and full-fed woodcock, with the peculiar
twitter which he utters when surprised. He had not gone
ten yards, however, before my gun was at my shoulder
and the trigger drawn; before I heard the crack I saw
him cringe; and, as the white smoke drifted off to lee-

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 29

ward, he fell heavily, completely liddlecl by the shot, into
the brake before me; while at the same moment, whir-r-r!
up sprung- a bevy of twenty quiiil, at lea^^t, startling? me
for the moment by the thick whirring of their wings, and
skirring over the underwood right toward Archer. "Mark,
quail !" I shouted, and, recovering instantly my nerves,
fired my one remaining barrel after the last bird! It was
a long shot, yet I struck him fairly, and he rose instantly
right upward, towering high ! high ! into the clear blue
sky, and soaring still, till his life left him in the air, and
he fell like a stone, plump downward !

"Mark him ! Tim !"

"Ey! ey! sur. He's a de-ad un, that's a sure thing!"

At my shot all the bevy rose a little, yet altered not
their course the least, wheeling across the thicket directly
round the front of Archer, whose whereabout I knew,'
though I could neither see iior hear him. So high did
they fly that I could observe them clearly, every bird well
defined against the sunny heavens. I watched them eag-
erly. Suddenly one turned over; a cloud of feathers
streamed off down the wind ; and then, before the sound
of the first shot had reached my ears, a second pitched a
few yards upward, and, after a heavy flutter, followed its
hapless comrade.

Turned by the fall of the two leading birds, the bevy
again wheeled, still rising higher, and now flying very
fast; so that, as I saw by the direction which they took,
they would probably give Draw a chance of getting in
both barrels. And so indeed it was; for, as before, long
ere I caught the booming echoes of his heavy gun. I saw
two birds keeled over, and, almost at the same instant,
the cheery shout of Tim announced to me that he had
bagged my towered bird ! After a little pause, again we
started, and, hailing one another now and then, gradually
forced our way through brake and brier toward the out-
ward verge of the dense covert. Before we met again,
however, I had the luck to pick up a third woodcock, and
as T heard another double shot from Archer, and two
single bangs from Draw, I judged that my companions
had not been less successful than myself. At last, emerg-
ing from the thicket, we all converged, as to a common
point, toward Tim ; who, with his game-bag on the ground,
with its capacious mouth wide open to receive our game.

30 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

sat on a stump with the two setters at a charge beside
him.

"Wliat do we score?" cried I, as we drew near; "what
do we score?"

"I have four woodcocks, and a brace of quail," said
Harry.

"And I, two cock and a brace," cried Tom, "and missed
another cock; but he's down in the meadow here, behind
that 'ere stump alder !"

"And I, three woodcock and one quail!" I chimed in,
naught abashed.

"And Ay'se marked doon three woodcock — two more
beside yon big un, that master Draa made siccan a bungle
of — and all t' quail — every feather on um — doon i' t' bog
meadow yonner — ooh! but we'se mak grand sport o't!"
interposed Tim, now busily employed stringing bird after
bird up by the head, with loops and buttons in the game-
bag!

"Well done then, all!" said Harry. "jSTine timber-
doodles and five quail, and only one shot missed ! That's
not bad shooting, considering what a hole it is to slioot
in. Gentlemen, here's your health," and filling himself
out a fair sized wineglass-full of Ferintosh, into the silver
cup of his dram-bottle, he tossed it off; and then poured
out a similar libation for Tim Matlock. Tom and myself,
nothing loth, obeyed the hint, and sipped our modicums
of distilled waters out of our private flasks.

"Now, then," cried Archer, "let us pick up these scat-
tering birds. Tom Draw, you can get yours without a
dog! And now, Tim, where are yours?"

"T' first lies oop yonner in yon boonch of brachens,
ahint t' big scarlet maple; and t' other "

"Well! I'll go to the first. You take Mr. Forester to
the other, and when we have bagged all three, we'll meet
at the hog meadow fence, and then hie at the bevy !"

This job was soon done, for Draw and Harry bagged
their birds cleverly at the first rise; and although mine
got off at first without a shot, by dodging round a birch
tree straight in Tim's face, and flew back slap toward
the thicket, yet he pitched in its outer skirt, and as he
jumped up wild I cut him down with a broken pinion
and a shot through his bill at fifty yards, and Chase
retrieved him well.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 31

"Cleverly stopped, indeed!" Frank lialloaed; "and by
no means an easy shot! and so our work's clean done for
this place, at the least!"

•'The hoy can shoot some," observed Tom Draw, who
loved to bother Timothy ; "the boy can shoot some, though
he does come from Yorkshire!"

"Gad! and Ay wush Ay'd no but gotten thee i' York-
shire, measter Draa!" responded Tim.

"Why! what if you had got me there?"

"What ? Whoy, Ay'd clap thee iv a cage, and hug thee
round t' feasts and fairs loike; and shew thee to t' folks
at so mooch a head. Ayse sure Ayd mak a fortune o't !"

"He has you there, Tom ! Ha ! ha ! ha !" laughed
Archer. "Tim's down uix)n you there, by ■George ! Now,
Frank, do fancy Tom Draw in a cage at Borough-bridge
or Catterick fair! Lord! how the folks would pay to
look at him ! Fancy th^ sign board too ! The Great
American Man-Mammoth ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! But come, we
must not stay here talking nonsense, or we shall do no
good. Show me, Tim, where are the quail !"

"Doon i' t' bog meadow yonner! joost i' t' slack,* see
thee, there!" pointing with the stout black-thorn; "amang
yon bits o' bushes !"

"Very well — that's it ; now let go the setters ; take Flash
and Dan along with you, and cut across the country as
straight as you can go to the spring head, where we
lunched last year; that day, you know, Tom, when Mc-
Tavish frightened the bull out of the meadowy under the
pin-oak tree. Well ! put the champagne into the spring
to cool, and rest yourself there till we come; we shan't
be long behind you."

Away went Tim, stopping from time to time to mark
our progress, and over the fence into the bog meadow we
proceeded: a rascally piece of broken tussocky ground,
with black mud knee-deep between the hags, all covered
with long grass. The third step I took, over I went upon
my nose, but luckily avoided shoving my gun-barrels into
the filthy mire.

"Steady, Frank, steady! I'm ashamed of you!" said
Harry; "so hot and so impetuous; and your gun too at the
full cock; that's the reason, man, why you missed firing

*Slack — Yorkshire. Anglice, Muist, holloiv.

3'2 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

at your first bird, this morning. I never cock either bar-
rel till I see my bird; and, if a bevy rises, only one at a
time. The birds will lie like stones here; and we cannot
walk too slow. Steady, Shot, have a care, sir!"

Never, in all my life^ did I see any thing more perfect
than the style in which the setters drew those bogs. There
was no more of racing, no more of impetuous dash; it
seemed as if they knew the bii'ds wei'e close before them.
At a slow trot, their sterns whipping their flanks at every
step, they threaded the high tussocks. See! the red dog
straightens his neck, and snuffs the air.

"Look to! look to, Frank! they are close before old
Chase!"

Now he draws on again, crouching close to the earth.
"Toho! Shot!" Now he stands! no! no! not yet — at least
he is not certain ! He turns his head to catch his master's
eye! Now his stem moves a little; he draws on again.

There! he is sure now! what a picture — his black full
eye intently glaring, though he cannot see any thing in
that thick mass of herbage; his nostril wide expanded,
his lips slavering from intense excitement ; his whole form
motionless, and sharply drawn, and rigid, even to the
straight stern and lifted foot, as a block wrought to mimic
life by some skilful sculptor's chisel ; and, scarce ten
yards behind, his liver-colored comrade backs him — as
firm, as stationary, as immovable, but in his attitude,
how different ! Chase feels the hot scent steaming up
under his very nostril ; feels it in every nerve, and quivers
with anxiety to dash on his prey, even while perfectly
restrained and steady. Shot, on the contrary, though a
few minutes since he too was drawing, knows nothing of
himself, perceives no indication of the game's near pres-
ence, although improved by discipline, his instinct t^lls
him that his mate has found them. Hence the same rigid
form, stiff tail, and constrained attitude, but in his face —
for dogs have faces — there is none of that tense energy,
that evident anxiety ; there is no frown upon his brow, no
glare in his mild open eye, no slaver on his lip!

"Come up, Tom; come up, Frank, they are ail here;
we must get in six barrels; thev will not move; come up,
I say!"

And on we came, deliberately prompt, and ready. Now
we were all in line; Harry the centre man, I on the right.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 33

and Tom on the lei't hand. The attitude ol" Archer was
superb; his legs, set a little way apart, as firm as if they
had been rooted in the soil; his form drawn back a little,
and his head erect, with his eye fixed upon the dogs; his
gun held in both hands, across his person, the muzzle
slightly elevated, his left grasping the trigger guard; the
thumb of the right resting upon the hammer, and the
fore-finger on the trigger of the left hand barrel ; but, as
he had said, neither cocked. "Fall back, Tom, if you
please, five yards or so," he said, as coolly as if he were
unconcerned, "and you come forward, Frank, as many ;
I want to drive them to the left, into those low red
bushes; that will do; now then, I'll flush them; never
mind me, boys, I'll reserve my fire."

And, as he spoke, he moved a yard or two in front of
us. and under his very feet, positively startling me by
their noisy flutter, up sprang the gallant bevy : fifteen or
sixteen well grown birds, crowding and jostling one
against the other. Tom Draw's gun, as I well believe,
was at his shoulder when they rose; at least his first shot
was discharged before they had flown half a rood, and of
course harmlessly; the charge must have been driven
througli them like a single ball ; his second barrel in-
stantly succeeded, and down came two birds, caught in
the act of crossing. I am myself a quick shot, too quick
if anything, yet my first barrel was exploded a moment
after Tom Draw's second ; the other followed, and I had
the satisfaction of bringing both my birds dovsoi hand-
somely; then up went Harry's piece — the bevy being now
twenty or twenty-'five yards distant — cocking it as it rose,
he pulled the trigger almost before it touched his shoulder,
so rapid was the movement ; and, though he lowered the
stock a little to cock the second barrel, a moment scarcely
passed between the two reports, and almost on the instant
two quail were fluttering out their lives among the bog
grass.

Dropping his butt, without a word, or even a glance to
the dogs, he quietly went on to load ; nor indeed was it
needed : at the first shot they dropped into the grass, and
there they lay as motionless as if they had been dead,
with their heads crouched between their paws; nor did
they stir thence till the tick of the gun-locks announced
that we again were ready. Then lifting up their heads.

34 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

and rising on their fore-feet, they sat half erect, eagerly
waiting for the signal.

"Hold up, good lads!" and on they drew, and in an
instant pointed on two several birds. "Fetch !" and each
brought his burthen to our feet; six birds were bagged
at that rise, and thus before eleven oclock we had picked
up a dozen cock, and within one of the same number of
fine quail, with only two shots missed. The poor re-
mainder of the bgvy had dropped, singly, and scattered,
in the red bushes, whither we instantly pursued them,
and where we got six more, making a total of seventeen
birds bagged out of a bevy, twenty strong at first.

One towered bird of Harry's, certainly killed dead, we
could not with all our efforts bring to bag; one bird Tom
Draw missed clean, and the remaining one we could not
find again ; another dram of whiskey, and into Seer's
great swamp we started; a large piece of woodland, with
every kind of lying. At one end it was open, with soft
black loamy soil, covered with docks and colts-foot leaves
under the shade of large but leafless willows, and here we
picked up a good many scattered woodcock; afterward we
got into the heavy thicket with much tangled grass,
wherein we flushed a bevy, but they all took to tree, and
we made very little of them; and there Tom Draw began
to blow and labor ; the covert was too thick, the bottom
too deep and unsteady for him.

Archer perceiving this, sent him at once to the outside;
and three times, as we went along, ourselves moving
nothing, we heard the round reports of his large calibre.
"A bird at every shot, I'd stake ray life," said Harry, "he
never misses cross shots in the open ;" at the same instant,
a tremendous rush of wings burst from the heaviest
thicket: "Mark! partridge! partridge!" and as I caught
a glimpse of a dozen large birds fliittering \ip, one close
upon the other, and darting away as straight and nearly
as fast as bullets, through the dense branches of a cedar
brake, I saw the flashes of both Harr^^'s barrels, almost
simultaneously discharged, and at the same time over
went the objects of his aim ; but ere I could get up my
gun the rest were out of sight. "You must shoot, Frank,
like lightning, to kill these beggars; they are the ruffed
grouse, though they call them partridges here : see ! are
they not fine fellows?"

■1-

?^
o
d

^ if:,>:'w'W'' '

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 35

Another hour's hentiug, in which we still kept picking
up, from time to time, some scattering birds, brought us
to the spring head, where we found Tim with luncheon
ready, and our fat friend reposing at his side, with two
more grouse, and a rabbit which he had bagged along the
covert's edge. Cool was the Star champagne ; and capital
was the cold fowl and Cheshire cheese; and most delicious
was the repose that followed, enlivened with gay wit and
free good humor, soothed by the fragrance of the ex-
quisite cheroots, moistened by the last drops of the Ferin-
tosh qualified by the crystal waters of the spring. After
an hour's rest, we counted up our spoil : four ruffed
grouse, nineteen woodcocks, with ten brace and a half of
quail beside the bunny, made up our score — done com-
fortably in four hours.

"Now we have finished for to-day with quail," said
Archer, "but we'll get full ten couple more of woodcock;
come, let us be stirring; hang up your game-bag in the
tree, and tie the setters to the fence; T want you in with
me to beat, Tim; you two chaps must both keep the out-
side— you all the time, Tom ; you, Frank, till you get to
that tall thunder-shivered ash tree; turn in there, and
follow up the margin of a wide $lank you will see; but
be careful, the mud is very deep, and dangerous in places;
now then, here goes !"

And in he went, jumping a narrow streamlet into a
point of thicket, through which he drove by main force.
Scarce had he got six yards into the brake, before both
spaniels quested ; and, to my no small wonder, the jungle
seemed alive with woodcock; eight or nine, at the least>
flapped up at once, and skimmed along the tongue of
coppice toward the high wood, which ran along the valley,
as I learned afterward, for full three miles in length —
while four or five more wheeled off to the sides, giving
myself and Draw fair shots, by which we did not fail to
profit ; but I confess it was with absolute astonishment
that I saw two of those turned over, which flew inward,
killed by the marvellously quick and unerring aim of
Archer, where a less thorough sportsman would have been
quite unable to discharge a gun at all, so dense was the
tangled juns?-le. Throughout the whole length of that
skirt of coppice, a hundred and fifty yards, I should sup-

2»

3G WARWICK WOODLANDS.

pose at the utmost, the birds kept rising as it were in-
cessantly— ^thirty-five, or, I think, nearly forty, being
flushed in less than tweiity minutes, although compara-
tively few were killed, partly from the difiieulty of the
ground, and partly from their getting up by fours and
fives at once. Into the high wood, however, at the last
we drove them; and there, till daylight failed us, we did
our work like men. By the cold light of the full moon
we wended homeward, rejoicing in the possession of
twenty-six couple and a half of cock, twelve brace of quail
— we found another bevy on our way home and bagged
three birds almost by moonlight — five ruffed grouse, and
a rabbit. Before our wet clothes were well changed, sup-
per was ready, and a good blow-out was followed by sound
slumbers and sweet dreams, fairly earned by nine hours
of incessant walking.

DAY THE THIRD.

So thoroughly was I tired out by the effects of the first
day's fagging I had undei'gone in many months, and so
sound was the slumber into which I sank the moment my
head touched the pillow, that it scarcely seemed as if five
minutes had elapsed between my falling into sweet for-
' getfulness, and my starting bolt upright in bed, aroused
by the vociferous shout, and ponderous tramping, equal
to nothing less than that of a full-grown rhinoceros, with
which Tom Draw rushed, long before the sun was up,
into my chamber.

"What's this, what's this now?" he exclaimed; "why
the plague am't you up and ready? — why here's the hit-
ters mixed, and Archer in the stable this half hour past,
and Jem's here with the hounds — and you, you lazy snort-
ing Injun, wasting the morning here in bed !"

My only reply to this most characteristic salutation, was
to hurl my pillow slap in his face, and — threatening to fol-
low up the missile with the content^; of the water pitcher,
which stood temptingly within my reach, if he did not get
out incontinently — to jump up and array myself with all
due speed; for, when I had collected my bewildered
thoughts, I well remembered that we had settled on a

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 37

fox-hunt before breakfast, as a preliminary to a fresh
skirmish with the quail.

In a few minutes I was on foot and in the parlor,
where I found a bright crackling tire, a mighty pitcher of
milk punch, and a plate of biscuit, an apt substitute for
breakfast before starting; while, however, I was discuss-
ing these, Archer arrived, dressed just as I have de-
scribed him on the preceding day, with the addition of
a pair of heavy hunting spurs, buckled on over his half-
boots, and a large iron-hammei-ed whip in his right hand.

"That'3 right. Frank," he exclaimed, after the ordinary
salutations of the morning.

"Why that old porpoise told me you would not be ready
these two hours; he's grumbling out yonder by the stable
door, like a hog stuck in a farm-yard gate. But come, we
may as well be moving, for the hounds are all uncoupled,
and the nags saddled — put on a pair of straps to your fus-
tian trowsers and take these racing spurs, though Peacock
does not want them — and now, hurrah!''

This was soon done, and going out upon the stoop, a
scene — it is true, widely different from the kennel door
at ^lelton, or the covert side at Billesdon Coplow, yet not
by any means devoid of interest or animation — presented
itself to my eyes. About six couple of large heavy hounds,
with deep and pendant ears, heavy well-feathered sterns,
broad chests, and muscular strong limbs, were gathered
round their feeder, the renowned Jem Lyn ; on whom it
may not be impertinent to waste a word or two, before
proceeding to the mountains, which, as I learned, to my
no little wonder, was destined to be our hunting ground.

Picture to yourself, then gentle reader, a small but
actively formed man, with a face of most unusual and
portentous ugliness, an uncouth grin doing the part of a
smile; a pair of eyes so small that they would have been
invisible, but for the serpent-like vivacity and brightness
with which they sparkled from their deep sockets, and a
profusion of long hair, coal-black, but lank and uncurled
as an Indian's, combed smoothly down with a degree of
care entirely out of keeping with the other details, whether
of dress or countenance, on either cheek. Above these
sleek and cherished tresses he wore a thing which might
have passed for either cap or castor, at the wearer's pleas-
ure; for it was wholly destitute of brim except for a space

38 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

some three or four inches wide over the eyebrows; and the
crown had been so pertinaciously and completely beaten
in, that the sides sloped inward at the top, as if to per-
sonate a bishop's mitre; a fishing line was wound about
this graceful and, if its appearance belied it not most
foully, odoriferous head-dress; and into the fishing line
was stuck the bowl and some two inches of the shank of a
well-sooted pipe. An old red handkerchief was twisted
ropewise about his lean and scraggy neck, but it by no
means sufficed to hide the scar of what had evidently been
a most appalling gash, extending right across his throat,
almost from ear to ear, the great cicatrix clearly visible
like a white line through the thick stubble of some ten
days' standing that graced his chin and neck.

An old green coat, the skirts of which had long since
been docked by the encroachment of thorn-bushes and cat-
briers, with the mouth-piece of a powder-horn peeping
from its breast pocket, and a full shot-belt crossing his
right shoulder; a pair of fustian trowsers, patched at the
knees with corduroy, and heavy cowhide boots completed
his attire. This, as it seemed, was to be our huntsman ;
and sooth to say, although he did not look the character,
he played the part, when he got to work, right handsomely.
At a more fitting season, Harry in a few words let me into
this worthy's history and disposition. "He is," he said,
"the most incorrigible rascal I ever met with — an unre-
deemed and utter vagabond; he started life as a stallion-
leader, a business which he understands — as in fact he
does almost every thing else within his scope — thoroughly
well. He got on prodigiously ! — was employed by the first
breeders in the country ! — took to drinking, and then, in
due rotation, to gambling, pilfering, lying, every vice, in
short, which is compatible with utter want of any thing
like moral sense, deep shrewdness, and uncommon coward-
ice.

"He cut his throat once — you may see the sear now —
in a fit of delirium tremens, and Tom Draw, who, though
he is perpetually cursing him for the most lying critter
under heaven, has, I believe, a sort of fellow feeling for
him — nursed him and got him well; and ever since he
has hung about here, getting at times a coimtry stallion
to look after, at others hunting, or fishing, or doing little
jobs about the stable, for which Tom gives him plenty of

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 39

abuse, plenty to eat. and as little rum as possible, I'ur if
he gets a second glass it is all up with Jem Lyn for a
week at least.

"He came to see me once in New York, when I was
down upon my back with a broken leg — 1 was lying in the
parlor, about three weeks after the accident had happened.
Tim Matlock had gone out for something, and the cook
let him in; and, after he had sat there about half an hour,
telling me all the news of the races, and making me laugh
more thnn was good for m,v broken leg. he gave me such
a hint, that I was compelled to direct him to the cupboard,
wherein I kept the liquor-stand; and unluckily enough, as
I had not for some time been in drinking tune, all three of
the bottles were brimful ; and, as I am a Christian man,
he drank in spite of all I could say — I could not leave the
couch to get at him — two of them to the dregs ; and, after
frightening me almost to death, fell flat upon the floor, and
lay there fast asleep when Tim came in again. He dragged
him instantly, by my directions, under the pump in the
garden, and soused him for about two hours, but without
producing the least effect, except eliciting a grunt or two
from this most seasoned cask.

"Such is Jem Lyn, and yet, absurd to say, I have tried
the fellow, and believe him perfectly trustworthy — at least
to me!

"He is a coward, yet I have seen him fight like a hero
more than once, and against heavy odds, to save me from
a threshing, which I got after all, though not without
some damage to our foes, whose name might have been
legion.

"He is the greatest liar that I ever met with; and yet I
never caught him in a falsehood, for he believes it is no
use to tell me one.

"He is most utterly dishonest, yet I have trusted him
with sums that would, in his opinion, have made him a
rich man for life, and he accounted to the utmost shilling;
but I advise you not to try the same, for if you do he most
assuredly will cheat you !''

Among the heavy looking hounds, which clustered round
this hopeful gentleman, I quickly singled out two couple
of widely different breed and character from the rest ;
your thorough high-bred racing fox-hounds, with ears

40 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

rounded, thin shining coats, clean limbs, and all the marks
of the best class of English hounds.

"Aye! Frank," said Archer, as he caught my eye fLxed
on them, "you have found out my favorites. Why, Bonny
Belle, good lass, why Bonny Belle! — here Blossom, Blos-
som, come up and show your pretty figures to your coun-
tryman! Poor Hanbury — do you remember, Frank, how
many a merry day we've had with him by Thorley Church,
and Takely forest? — poor Hanbury sent them to me with
such a letter, only the year before he died; and those,
Dauntless and Dangerous, I had from Will, Lord Hare-
wood's huntsman, the same season !"

"There never was sich dogs — there never was afore in
Orange," said Tom. "I ivill say that, though they be
Eiiglish; and though they be too fast for fox, entirely,
there never was sich dogs for deer"—

"But how the deuce," I interrupted, "can hounds be too
fast, if they have bone and stanchness!"

"Stanchness be darned ; they holes them !"

"No earthstoppers in these parts, Frank," cried Harry;
and as the object of these gentlemen is not to hunt solely
for the fun of the thing, but to destroy a noxious varmint,
they prefer a slow, sure, deep-mouthed dog, that does not
press too closely on Pug, but lets him take his time about
the coverts, till he comes into fair gunshot of these hunt-
ers, who are lying perdu as he runs to get a crack at
him."

"And pray," said I, "is this your method of proceed-
ing?"

"You shall see, you shall see; come get to horse, or it
will be late before we get our breakfast, and I assure you
I don't wish to lose either that, or my day's quail-shoot-
ing. This hunt is merely for a change, and to get some-
thing of an appetite for breakfast. Now, Tim, be sure
that every thing is ready by eight o'clock at the latest — we
shall be in by that time with a furious appetite."

Thus saying he mounted, without more delay, his favor-
ite, the gray; while I backed, nothing loth, the chestnut
horse; and at the same time to my vast astonishment,
from under the long shed out rode the mighty Tom, be-
striding a tall powerful brown mare, showing a monstrous
deal of blood combined with no slight bone — equipped
with a cavalry bridle, and strange to say, without the

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 41

universal martiugal; he was rigged just as usual, with
the exception of a broad-brimmed hat in place of his fur
cap, and grasped in his right hand a heavy smooth-bored
rifle, while with tlie left he wheeled his mare, with a
degree of active skill, which I should certainly have looked
for any where rather than in so vast a mass of flesh as
that which was exhibited by our worthy host.

Two other sportsmen, grave, sober-looking farmers,
whom Harry greeted cheerily by name, and to whom in
all due form I was next introduced, well-mounted, and
armed with long single-barrelled guns, completed our
party; and away we went at a rattling trot, the hounds
following at Archer's heels, as steadily as though he
hunted them three times a week.

"Now arn't it a strange thing," said Tom, "arn't it a
strange thing, Mr. Forester, that every critter under
Heaven takes somehow nat'rally to that are Archer — the
very hounds — old Whino there! that I have had these
eight years, and fed with my own hands, and hunted
steady every winter, quits me the very moment he claps
sight on him ; by the eternal, I believe he is half dog
himself."

"You hunted them indeed," interrupted Harry, "you
old rhinoceros, why hang your hide, you never so much
as heard a good view-holloa till I came up here — you
hunted them — a man talk of hunting, that carriers a
cannon about with him on horseback; but come, where
are we to try first, on Rocky Hill, or in the Spring
Swamps ?"

"Why now I reckon, Archer, we'd best stop down to
Sam Blain's — bj' the blacksmith's — he was telling t'other
morning of an eternal sight of them he'd seen down
hereaway — and we'll be there to rights!— Jem, cus you,
out of my way, you dumb nigger — out of my way, or I'll
ride over you" — for, travelling along at a strange sham-
bling run, that worthy had contrived to keep up with us.
though we were going fully at the rate of eight or nine
miles in the hour.

"Hurrah!" cried Tom, suddenly pulling up at the door
of a neat farm-house on the brow of a hill, with a clear
streamlet sweeping round its base, and a fine piece of
woodland at the farther side. "Hurrah! Sam Blain, we've
come to make them foxes, you were telling of a Sunday,

42 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

smell h — 11 right straight away. Here's Archer, and an-
other Yorker with him — leastwise an Englisher I should
say — and Squire Conklin, and Bill Speers, and that white
nigger Jem ! Look sharp, I say ! Look sharp, cus you,
else we'll pull off the ruff of the old humstead."

In a few minutes Sam made his appearance, armed, like
the rest, with a Queen Ann's tower-musket.

"Well! well!" he said, "I'm ready. Quit making such a
clatter! Lend me a load of powder, one of you; my
horn's leaked dry, I reckon !"

Tom forthwith handed him his own, and the next thing
I heard was Blain exclaiming that it was "desperate pretty
powder," and wondered if it shot strong.

"Shoot strong? I guess you'll find it strong enough to
sew you up, if you go charging your old musket that
ways!" answered Tom. "By the Lord, Archer, he's put in
three full charges !"

"Well, it will kill him, that's all !" answered Harry, very
coolly; "and there'll be one less of you. But come! come!
let's be bustling ; the sun's going to get up already. You'll
leave your horses here, I suppose, gentlemen, and get to
the old stands. Tom Draw, put Mr. Forester at my old,
post dowii by the big pin-oak at the creek side; and you
stand there, Frank, still as a church-mouse. It's ten to
one, if some of those fellows don't shoot him first, that
he'll break covert close by you, and run the meadows for
a mile or two, up to the turnpike road, and over it to
Kocky hill — that black knob yonder, covered with pine and
hemlock. There are some queer snake fences in the flat,
and a big brook or two, but Peacock has been over every
inch of it before, and you may trust in him implicitly.
Good bye! I'm going up the road with Jem to drive it
from the upper end."

And off he went at a merry trot, with the hounds
gamboling about his stirrups, and Jem Lyn running at
his best pace to keep up with him. In a few minutes they
were lost behind a swell of woodland, round which the
road wheeled suddenly. At the same moment Tom and
his companions re-appeared from the stables, where they
had been securing their fovir-footed friends; and, after a
few seconds, spent in running ramrods down the barrels
to see that all was right, inspecting primings, knapping
flints, or puttiug on fresh copper caps, it was announced

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 43

that all was ready; and passing through the farm-yai'd.
we entered, througli a set of bars, a broad bright buck-
wheat stubble. Scarcely an hundred yards had we pro-
ceeded, before we sprung the tinest bevy of the largest
quail I had yet seen, and flying high and wild crossed
half-a-dozen fields in the direction of the village, whence
we had started, and pitched at length into an alder brake
beside the stream.

"Them chaps has gone the right way," Tom exclaimed,
with a deep sigh, who had with wondrous difficulty re-
frained from firing into them, though he was loaded with
buckshot; "right in the course we count to take this fore-
noon. Now, Squire, keep to the left here, take your sta-
tion by the old earths there away, under the tall dead
pine; and you. Bill, make tracks there, straight through
the middle cart-way, down to the other meadow, and sit
you down right where the two streams fork ; thei'e'll be an
old red snooping down that side afore long, I reckon.
We'll go on Mr. Forester; here's a big rail fence now;
I'll throw off the top rail, for I'll be darned if I climb
any day when I can creep — there, that'll do, I reckon ;
leastwise if you can ride like Archer — he d — ns me always
if I so much as shakes a fence afore he jumps it — you've
got the best horse, too, for lepping. Now let's see! Well
done! well done!" he continued, with a most boisterous
burst of laughter— "well done, horse, any how!" — as Pea-
cock, who had been chafing ever since he parted from his
comrade Bob, went at the fence as though he were about
to take it in his stroke — stopped short when within a yard
of it, and then bucked over it, without touching a splinter,
although it was at least five feet, and shaking me so
much, that, greatly to Tom's joy, I showed no little
glimpse of day-light.

"I reckon if they run the meadows, you'll hardly ride
them. Forester," he grinned; "but now away with you.
You see the tall dark pin oak, it hasn't lost one leaf yet;
right in the nook there of the bars you'll find a quiet
shady spot, where you can see clear up the rail fence to
this knob, where I'll be. Off with you, boy — and mind
you now, you keep as dumb as the old woman when her
husband cut her tongue out, 'cause she had too much
jaw."

Finishing his discourse, he squatted himself down on

44 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

the stool of a large hemlock, which, being recently cut
down, cumbered the woodside with its giant stem, and
secured him, with its evergreen top now lowly laid and
withering, from the most narrow scrutiny; while I, giving
the gallant horse his head, went at a brisk hand-gallop
across the firm short turf of the fair sloping hill-side,
taking a moderate fence in my stroke, which Peacock
cleared in a style that satisfied me Harry had by no means
exaggerated his capacity to act as hunter, in lieu of the
less glorious occupation, to which in general he was
doomed.

In half a minute more I reached my post, and though
an hour passed before I heard the slightest sound betoken-
ing the chase, never did I more thoroughly enjoy an hour.

The loveliness of the whole scene before me — the broad
rich sweep of meadowland lying, all bathed in dew, under
the pale gray light of an autumnal morning, with groups
of cattle couched still between the trees where they had
passed the night; the distant hills, veiled partially in
mist, partially rearing their round leafy heads toward
the brightening sky; and then the various changes of the
landscape, as slowly the day broke behind the eastern hill ;
and all the various sounds of bird, and beast, and insect,
which each succeeding variation of the morning seiwed
to call into life as if by magic. First a faint rosy flush
stole up the eastern sky, and nearly at the self-same mo-
ment, two or three vagrant crows came flapping heavily
along, at a height so immeasurable that their harsh voices
were by distance modified into a pleasing murmur. And
now a little fish jumped in the streamlet; and the splash,
trifling as it was, with which he fell back on the quiet
surface, half startled me.

A moment afterward an acron plumped down on my
head, and as I looked up, there sat, on a limb not ten
feet above me, an impudent rogue of a gray squirrel, half
as big as a rabbit, erect upon his haunches, working away
at the twin brother of the acorn he had dropped upon
my hat to break my reverie, rasping it audibly with his
chisel-shaped teeth, and grinning at me just as coolly as
though I were a harmless scare-crow.

When I grew tired of observing him, and looked toward
the sky again, behold the western ridge, wliich is far high-
er than the eastern hills, had caught upon its summits

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 45

the first bright rays of the yet unseen day-god; whihi the
rosy flush of the east had brightened into a blaze of living
gold, exceeded only by the glorious hues with which a
few bright specks of misty cloud glowed out against tlie
azure firmament, like coals of actual fire.

Again a louder splash aroused me; and, as I turned,
there floated on a glassy basin, into which the ripples of
a tiny fall subsided, three wood-ducks, with a noble drake,
that loveliest in plumage of all aquatic fowl, perfectly
imdisturbed and fearless, although within ten yards of
their most dreaded enemy.

How beautiful are all their emotions I There! one has
reared herself half way out of the water; another stretches
forth a delicate web foot to scratch her ear, as handily as
a dog on dry land ;. and now the drake reflects his purple
neck to preen his ruffled wing, and now — bad luck to you,
Peacock, why did you snort and stamp? — -they are off like
a bullet, and out of sight in an instant.

And now out comes the sun himself, and with him the
accursed hum of a musquitoe— and hark! hush! — what
was that ? — was it ? By Heavens ! It was the deep note of
a fox-hound! Aye! there comes Harry's cheer, faintly
heard, swelling up the breeze.

"Have at him, there! Ha-a-ve at him, good lads!"

Again ! again ! those are the musical deep voices of the
slow hounds! They have a dash in them of the old
Southern breed ! And now ! there goes the yell ! the quick
sharp yelping rally of those two high-bred bitches.

By heaven ! they must be viewing him ! How the woods
ring and crash!

"Together hark ! Together hark ! Together ! For-ra-
ard. good lads, get for-a-ard! Hya-a-araway !''

Well halloaed, Harry! I could swear to that last
screech, out of ten thousand, though it is near ten years
since I last heard it ! But heavens ! how they press him !
Hang it ! there goes a shot — the squire has fired at him,
as he tried the earths! 'Now, if we have but missed him,
and Pan, the god of hunters, send it so, he has no chance
but to try the open.

By Jove he has ! he must have missed ! for Bonny Belle
and Blossom are raving half a mile this side of him
already. And now Tom sees him — how quietly he steals
up to the fence. There! he has fired! and all our sport is

46 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

up ! No ! no ! he waves his hat and points this way ! Can
he have missed? No! he has got a fox! — he lifts it out
by the brush — there must have been two, then, on foot
together. He has done it well to get that he has killed
away, or they would have stopped on him!

Hush! the leaves rustle here besides me, with a quick
patter — the twigs crackle — it is he! Move not for your
life, Peacock! There! he has broken cover fairly! Now
he is half across the field ! he stops to listen ! Ah ! he will
head again. No! no! that crash, when they came upon
the warm blood, has decided him — away he goes, with his
brush high, and its white tag brandished in the sunshine
— now I may halloa him away.

"Whoop! gone awa-ay! whoop!"

I was answered on the instant by Harry's quick —

"Hark holloa ! get awa-ay ! to him hark ! to him hark !
hark holloa !"

Most glorious Artemis, what heaven-stirring music!
And yet there are but poor six couple; the scent must be
as hot as fine, for every hound seems to have twenty
tongues, and every leaf an hundred echoes ! How the
boughs crash again ! Lo ! they are here ! Bonny Belle
leading — head and stern up, with a quick panting yelp!
Blossom, and Dangerous, and Dauntless scarcely a length
behind her, striving together, neck and neck; and, by
St. Hubert, it must be a scent of twenty thousand, for
here these heavy Southrons are scarcely two rods behind
them.

But fidget not, good Peacock ! fret not, most excellent
Pythagoras ! one moment more, and I am not the boy to
baulk you. And here comes Harry on the gray ; by
George! he makes the brushwood crackle! Now for a
nasty leap out of the tangled swamp! a high six-barred
fence of rough trees, leaning toward him, and up hill !
surely he will not try it !

Will he not though ?

See! — his rein is tight yet easy! his seat, how beautiful,
how firm, yet how relaxed and graceful ! Well done, in-
deed! He slacks his rein one instant as the gray rises!
the rugged rails are cleared, and the fii-m pull supports
him! but Harry moves not in the saddle — no! not one
hair's breath ! A five foot fence to him is nothing ! You
shall not see the slightest variation between his attitude

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 47

ill that stroiig effort, and in the easy gallop, li' Toui
Draw 3aw him now, he could have some excuse for calling
him "half Jiorse" — and he does see him! hark to that most
unearthy knell! like unto nothing, either heavenly or
human ! He waves his hat and hurries back as fast as he
is able to the horses, well knowing that for pedestrians at
least, the morning's sport is ended.

Harry and 1 were now almost abreast, riding in parallel
lines, down the rich valley, very nearly at the top speed
of our horses; taking fence after fence in our stroke, and
keeping well up with the hounds, which were running
almost mute, such was the furious speed to which the
blazing scent excited them.

We had already passed above two-thirds of the whole
distance that divides the range of woods, wherein we
found him, and the pretty village which we had consti-
tuted our head quarters, a distance of at least three miles ;
and now a very difficult and awkward obstacle presented
itself to our farther progress, in the shape of a wida
yawning brook between sheer banks of several feet in
height, broken, with rough and pointed stones, the whole
being at least five yards across. The gallant hounds
dashed over it ; and, when we reached it, were half way
across the grass field next beyond it.

"Hold him hard, Frank," Harry shouted; "hold him
hard, man. and cram him at it!"

And so 1 did, though I had little hope of clearing it. I
lifted him a little on the snaffle, gave him the spur just as
he reached the brink, and with a long and swinging leap,
so easy that its motion was in truth scare perceptible, he
swept across it; before I had the time to think, we were
again going at our best pace almost among the hounds.

Over myself, I cast a quick glance back toward Harry,
who, by a short turn of the chase had been thrown a fevv
yards behind me. He charged it gallantly ; but on the
very verge, cowed by the brightness of the rippling water,
the gray made a half stop, but leaped immediately, be-
neath the application of the galling spur ; he made a noble
effort, but it was scarce a thing to be effected by a stand-
ing leap, and it was with far less pleasure than surprise,
that I saw him drop his hind legs down the steep bank,
having just landed with fore-feet in the meadow.

I was afraid, indeed, he must have had an ugly fall.

48 WABWICK WOODLANDS.

but, picked up quickly by the delicate and steady finger
of his rider, the good horse found some slight projection
of the bank, whereby to make a second spring. After a
heavy flounder, however, which must have dismounted any
less perfect horseman, he recovered himself well, and be-
fore many minutes was again abreast of me.

Thus far the course of the hunted fox had lain directly
homeward, down the valley; but now the turnpike road
making a sudden turn crossed his line at right angles,
while another narrower road coming in at a tangent, went
off to the south-westward in the direction of the bold
projection, which I had learned to recognise as Rocky
Hill; over the high fence into the road; well performed,
gallant horses! And now they check for a moment,
puzzling about on the dry sandy turnpike.

"Dangerous feathers on it now! Speak to it! speak to
it, good hound!"

How beautiful that flourish of the stern with which he
darts away on the recovered scent; with what a yell they
open it once again ! Harry was right, he makes for Rocky
Hill, but up this plaguey lane, where the scent lies but
faintly. Now! now! the road turns off again far west-
ward of his point ! He may, by Jove ! and he has left it !

"Have at him then, lads ; he is ours !"

And lo ! the pace increases. Ha ! what a sudden turn,
and in the middle too of a clear pasture.

"Has he been headed, Harry?"

"No, no; his strength is failing."

And see ! he makes his point again toward the hill ; it is
within a quarter of a mile, and if he gain it we can do
nothing with him, for it is full of earths. But he will
never reach it. See ! he turns once again ; how exquisitely
well those bitches run it; three times he has doubled,
now almost as short as a hare, and they, running breast-
high, have turned with him each time, not over-running it
a yard.

See how the sheep have drawn together into phalanx
yonder, in that bare pasture to the eastward; he has
crossed that field for a thousand ! Yes, I am right. See !
they turn once again. What a delicious rally! An out-
spread towel would cover those four leading hounds — now
Dauntless has it; has it by half a neck.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 49

"He always goes up when a fox is sinking-,'' Harry ex-
claimed, pointing toward bim with his hunting whip.

Aye! he has given up his point entirely; he knew he
could not face the hill. Look! look at those carrion
crows ! how low they stoop over that woody bank. That is
his line. Here is the road again. Over it once more
mejrily! and now we view him.

"Whoop I Forra-ard, lads, forra-ardl"
He cannot hold five minutes; and see, there comes fat
Tom, pounding that mare along the road as if her fore-
feet were of hammered iron; he has come up along the
turnpike, at an infernal pace, while that turn favored
him; but he will only see us kill him, and that, too, at a
respectful distance.

Another brook stretches across our course, hurrying to
join the greater stream along the banks of which we have
so long been speeding; but this is a little one; there! we
have cleared it cleverly. Now! now! the hounds' are
viewing him. Poor brute! his day is come. See how he
twists and doubles. Ah! now they have him! No! that
short turn has saved him, and he gains the fence — he will
lie down there ! No ! he stretches gallantly across the next
field — gjtme to the last, poor devil! There!
" Who-whoop ! Dead ! dead ! who- whoop !"
And in another instant Harry had snatched him from
the hounds, and holding him aloft displayed him to the
rest, as they came up along the road.

"A pretty burst," he said to me, "a pretty burst, Frank,
and a good kill; but they can't stand before the hounds,
the foxes here, like our stout islanders; they are not
forced to work so hard to gain their living. But now let
us get homeward; I want my breakfast, I can tell you,
and then a rattle at the quail. I mean to get full forty
brace to-day, I promise you."

"And we," said I. "have marked down fifteen brace al-
ready toward it; right in the line of our beat, Tom says."
"That's right; well, let us go on."

And in a short half hour we were all once again assem-
bled about Tom's hospitable board, and making such a
breakfast, on every sort of eatable that can be crowded on
a breakfast table, as sportsmen only have a right to make;
nor they, unless they have walked ten, or galloped half as
many miles, before it.

50 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

Before we had been in an hour, Harry once again roused
us out. All had been, during our absence, fully prepared
by the indefatigable Tim; who, as the day before, ac-
coutred with spare shot and lots of provender, seemed to
grudge us each morsel that we ate, so eager was he to see
us take the field in season.

Off we went then; bvit what boots it to repeat a thrice
told tale; suffice it, that the dogs worked as well as dogs
can work; that birds were plentiful, and lying good; that
we fagged hard, and shot on the whole passably, so that by
sunset we had exceeded Harry's forty brace by fifteen
birds, and got beside nine couple and a half of woodcock ;
which we found, most unexpectedly, basking themselves
in the open meadow, along the grassy banks of a small
rill, without a bush or tree within five hundred yards of
them.

Evening had closed before we reached the well known
tavernstand, and the merry blaze of the fire, and many
candles, showed us, while yet far distant, that due prepa-
rations were in course for our entertainment.

"What have we heref cried Harry, as we reached the
door — "Race horses ? Why, Tom, by heaven ! we've got
the Flying Dutchman here again ; now for a night of it."

And so in truth it was, a most wet, and most jovial
one, seasoned with no small wit; but of that, more anon.

DAY THE FOURTH.

When we had entered Tom's hospitable dwelling, and
delivered over our guns to be duly cleaned, and the dogs to
be suppered, by Tim Matlock, I passed through the par-
lor, on my way to my own crib, where T found Archer in
close confabulation with a tall rawboned Dutchman, with
a keen freckled face, small 'cute gray eyes, looking sus-
piciously about from under the shade of a pair of strag-
gling sandy eyebrows, small reddish whiskers, and a head
of carroty hair as rough and tangled as a fox's back.

His aspect was a wondrous mixture of sneakingness and
smartness, and his expression did most villainously belie
him^ if he were not as sharp a customer as ever wagged
an elbow, or betted on a horse-race.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. r>l

"Frank," exclaimed Harry, as I entered, "I make you
know Mr. McTaggart, better known hereabouts as the
Flying Dutchman, though how he came by a Scotch name
I can't pretend to say; he keeps the best quarter horses,
and plays the best hand of whist in the country ; and now,
get yourself clean as quick as possible, for Tom never
gives one five minutes wherein to dress himself ; so bustle."

And off he went as he had finished speaking, and I
shaking my new friend cordially by an exceeding bony
unwashed paw, incontinently followed his example — and
in good time I did so; for I had scarcely changed my
shooting boots and wet worsteds for slippers and silk socks,
before my door, as usual, was lounged open by Tom's
massy foot, and I was thus exhorted.

"Come, come, your supper's gittin' cold; I never see
such men as you and Archer is; you're wash, wash, wash
— all day. It's little water enough that you use any other
ways."

"Why, is there any other use for water, Tom ?" I asked,
simply enough.

"It's lucky if there aint, any how — leastwise, where you
and Archer is — else you'd leave none for the rest of us.
It's a good thing you han't thought of washing your
darned stinking hides in rum — you will be at it some of
these odd days, I warrant me — why now, McTaggart, it's
only yesterday I caught Archer up stairs, a fiddling away
up there at his teeth with a little ivory bnish; brushing
them with cold water — cleaning them he calls it. Cuss all
such trash, says I."

While I was listening in mute astonishment, wondering
whether in truth the old savage never cleaned his teeth.
Archer made his appearance, and to a better supper never
did I sit down, than was spread at the old round table, in
such profusion as might have well sufficed to feed a troop
of horse.

"What have we got here, Tom?" cried Harry, as he
took the head of the social board; "quail-pie, by George —
are there any peppers in it Tom?"

"Sartain there is," replied that worthy, "and a prime
rumpsteak in the bottom, and some first-best salt pork,
chopped fine, and three small onions; like little Wax-skin
used to fijc them, when he was up here last fall."

"Take some of this pie, Frank;" said Archer, as he

52 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

handed me a huge plate of leafy reeking pie-crust, with
a slice of fat steak, and a plump hen quail, and gravy,
an etceteras, that might have made an alderman's mouth
water; "and if you don't say it's the very best thing you
ever tasted, you are not half so good a judge as I used
to hold you. It took little Johnny and myself three wet
days to concoct it. Pie, Tom, or roast pig ?" he continued ;
"or broiled woodcock? Here they are, all of them?"

"Why, I reckon I'll take cock; briled meat wants to be
ate right stret away as soon as it comes off the griddle;
and of all darned nice ways of cooking, to brile a thing,
quick now, over hot hickory ashes, is the best for me!"

"I believe you're right about eating the cock first, for
they will not be worth a farthing if they get cold. So
you stick to the pig, do you — hey McTaggart i Well,
there is no reckoning on taste — holloa, Tim, look shai^p!
the champagne all 'round — I'm choaking!"

And for some time no sound was heard, but the contin-
uous clatter of knives and forks, the occasional popping
of a cork, succeeded by the gurgling of the generous wine
as it flowed into the tall rummers; and every now and
then a loud and rattling eructation from Tom Draw, who,
as he said, could never half enjoy a meal if he could not
stop now and then to blow off steam.

At last, however — for supper, alas! like all other earthly
pleasures, must come to an end — "The fairest still the
fleetest" — our appetites waned gradually; and notwith-
standing Harry's earnest exhortations, and the production
of a broiled ham-bone, devilled to the very utmost pitch
of English mustard, soy, oil of Aix, and cayenne pepper,
by no hands, as may be guessed, but those of that uni-
versal genius, Timothy; one by one, we gave over our
labors edacious, to betake us to potations of no small
depth or frequency.

"It is directly contrary to my rule, Frank, to drink
before a good day's shooting — and a good day I mean to
have to-morrow! — but I am thirsty, and the least thought
chilly ; so here goes for a debauch ! Tim, look in my box
with the clothes, and you will find two flasks of curacao ;
bring them dovni, and a dozen lemons, and some lump
sugar — look alive! and you, Tom, out with your best
brandy; I'll make a jorum that will open your eyes
(In)if before you've done with it. That's right. Tim; now

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 5')

get the soup-tureen, the biggest one, and see that it's
clean. The old villain has got a punch-bowl — bring half a
dozen of champagne, a bucket full of ice, and then go
down into the kitchen, and make two quarts of green tea,
as strong as possible; and when it's made, set it to cool
in the ice-house I"

In a few minutes all the ingredients were at hand; the
rind, peeled carefully from all the lemons, was deposited
with two tumblers full of finely powdered sugar in the
bottom of the tureen; thereupon were poured instantly
three pints of pale old Cognac; and these were left to
steep, without admixture, until Tim Matlock made his en-
trance with the cold, strong, green tea; two quarts of this,
strained clear, were added to the brandy, and then two
flasks of curacoa !

Into this mixture of a dozen lumps of clear ice were
thrown, and the whole stirred up 'till the sugar was en-
tirely suspended ; then pop ! pop ! went the long necks, and
their creaming nectar was discharged into the bowl ; and
by the body of Bacchus — as the Italians swear — and by his
soul, too, which he never steeped in such delicious nectar,
what a drink that was, when it was completed.

Even Tom Draw, who ever was much disposed to look
upon strange potables as trash, and who had eyed the
whole proceedings with ill-concealed suspicion and dis-
dain, when he had quaffed off a pint-beaker full, which he
did without once moving the vessel from his head,
smacked his lips with a report which might have been
heard half a mile off, and which resembled very nearly
the crack of a first-rate huntsman's whip.

"That's not slow, now!" he said, half dubiously, "to tell
the truth now, that's first rate; I reckon, though, it would
be better if there wasn't that tea into it' — it makes it weak
and trashy-like!"

"You be hanged !" answered Harry, "that's mere affecta-
tion— that smack of your lips told the story; did you ever
hear such an infernal sound ? I never did, by George !"

"Begging your pardon, Measter Archer," interposed
Timothy, pulling his forelock, with an expression of pro-
found respect, mingled with a ludicrous air of regret, at
being forced to differ in the least degree from his master ;
"begging your pardon, Measter Archer, that was a room-

54 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

mer noise, and by a vary gre-at de-al too, when Measter
McTavish sneezed me clean oot o' t' wagon!"

"What's that?— what the devil's that?" cried I; "thia
McTavish must be a queer genius ; one day I hear of his
frightening a bull out of a meadow, and the next of hi.s
sneezing a man out of a phaeton."

"It's simply true! both are simply true! We were driv-
ing very slowly on an immensely hot day in the middle of
August, between Lebanon Springs and Claverack; Mc-
Tavish and I on the front seat, and Tim behind. Well!
we were creeping at a foot's pace, upon a long, steep hill,
just at the very hottest time of day; not a word had been
spoken for above an hour, for we were all tired and
languid — except once, when McTavish asked for his third
tumbler, since breakfast, of Starke's Ferintosh, of which
we had three two-quart bottles in the liquor case — when
suddenly, without any sign of warning, McTavish gave a
sneeze which, on my honor, was scarcely inferior in loud-
ness to a pistol shot! The horses started almost oS the
road, I jumped about half a foot off my seat, and positively
without exaggeration, Timothy tumbled slap out of the
wr.gon into the road, and lay there sprawling in the dust,
while Mac sat perfectly unmoved, without a smile upon
his face, looking straight before him, exactly as if nothing
had happened."

"Nonsense, Harry," exclaimed I ; "that positively won't
go down."

"That's an etarnal lie, now, Archer !" Tom chimed in ;
"leastwise I don't know why I should say so neither, for
I never saw no deviltry goin' on yet, that didn't come as
nat'ral to McTavish, as lying to a minister, or" —

"Rum to Tom Draw!" responded Harry. "But it's as
true as the gospel, ask Timothy there !"

"Nay it's all true; only it's scarce so bad i' t' story, as it
was i' right airnest! Ay cooped oot o' t' drag — loike ivry
thing — my hinder eend was sair a moanth and better!"

"Now then," said I, "it's Tom's turn ; "let us hear about
the bull."

■'Oh, the bull!" answered Tom. "Well you see. Archer
there, and little Waxskin — you know little Waxskin, T
guess. Mister Forester — and old McTavish, had gone down
to shoot to Hell-hole — where we was yesterday, you see!--
well now! it was hot — hot, worst kind; I tell vou — and I

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 55

wns sort o' tired out — so Waxskia, in he goes into the
thick, and Archer arter him, and up the old crick side--
thinkin, you see, that we was goin up, where you and I
walked yesterday — but not a bit of it; we never thought
of no such thing, not we! We sot ourselves down under-
neath the haystacks, and made ourselves two good stiff
horns of toddy; and cooled otf there, all in the ohade, as
slick as silk.

"Well, arter we'd been there quite a piece, bang! we
hears, in the very thick of the swamp — bang! bang!- -and
then I heerd Harry. Archer roar out 'mark ! mark ! — Tom,
mark ! — you fat old rascal,' — and sure enough, right where
I should have been, if I'd been a doin right, out came two
woodcock — big ones — they looked like hens, and I kind o'
thought it was a shame, so I got up to go to them, and
called McTavish to go with me; but torights, jest as he
was gitting up, a heap of critters comes all chasiu up,
scart by a dog, I reckon, kickin their darned heels up, and
bellowin like mad — and there was one young bull nmongst
them, quite a lump of a bull now I tell you; and the bull
he came up pretty nigh to us, and stood, and stawmped,
and sort o' snorted, as if he didn't know right what he
would be arter, and McTavish, he gits up, and turns right
round with his back to the critter; he got a bit of a round
jacket on, and he stoops down till his head came right
atween his legs, kind o' straddlin like, so that the bull
could see nothing of him but his t'other eend, and his
head right under it, chin uppermost, with his big black
whiskers, looking as fierce as all h — 11, and fievite.v; well!
the bull he stawmped agin, and pawed, and bellowed, and
I was in hopes, I swon, that he would have hooked him ;
but just then McTavish, starts to run, "going along as I
have told you, hind eend foremost — ho-oo went the bull,
a-hoo-oo, and off he starts like a strick, with his tail stret
on eend, and his eyes starin, and all the critters arter him,
and then they kind o' circled round — and all stood still
and stared — and stawmped, 'till he got nigh to them, and
then they all stricks off agin ; and so they went on — runnin
and then standin still, — and so they went on the hull of
an hour, I'll be bound; and I lay there upon my back
laughin 'till I was stiff and sore all over; and then came'
Waxskin and all Archer, wrathy as h — 11 and swearin' —
Lord how they did swear!

OO WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"They'd been a slavin there through the darned vhorus
and briers, and the old stinkin mud holes, and flushed
a most almighty sight of cock, where the brush 'Vas too
thick to shoot them, and every one they flushed, he came
stret out into the open field, where Archer know we should
have been, and where we should have killed a thunderin
mess, and no mistake; and they went on danunin, and
wonderin, and sweatin through the brush, till they got out
to the far eend, and there they had to make tracks back
to us through the bog meadow, under a brilin sun, and
when they did get back, the bull was jest a goin through
the bars — and every d — d drop o' the rum was drinked
up; and the sun was settin, and the day's shootin — that
was spoiled 1 — and then McTavish tantalized them the
worst sort. But I did laugh to kill; it was the best I
ever did see, was that spree — Ha I ha ! ha !"

And, as he finished, he burst out into his first horse
laugh, in which I chorused him most heartily, having in
truth been in convulsions, between the queemess of his
lingo, and the absurdly grotesque attitudes into which
he threw himself, in imitating the persons concerning
whom this story ran. After this, jest succeeded jest! and
story, story! 'till, in good truth, the glass circling the
while with most portentous speed, I began to feel bees in
my head, and still in truth no one, I believe, of the party,
was entirely collected in his thoughts, except Tom Draw,
whom it is as impossible for liquor to affect, as it would
be for brandy to make a hogshead drunk, and who stalked
off to bed with an air of solemn gravity that would have
well become a Spanish grandee of the olden time, telling
us, as he left the room, that we were all as drunk as
thunder, and that we should be stinkin in our beds till
noon to-morrow.

A prediction, by the way, which he took right good
care to defeat in his own person; for in less than five
hours after we retired, which was about the first of the
small hours, he rushed into my room, and finding that
the awful noises which he made, had no effect in waking
me, dragged me bodily out of bed, and clapping my wet
sponge in my face, walked off, as he said, to fetch the
bitters, which were to make me as fine as silk upon the
instant.

This time. I must confess that I did not look with quite

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 0<

SO much disgust on the old apple-jack; and in fact, after
a moderate horn, I completed my ablutions, and found
myself perfectly fresh and ready for the field. Breakfast
was soon despatched, and on this occasion as soon as we
had got through the broiled ham and eggs, the wagon
made its appearance at the door.

"What's this, Harry?" I exclaimed; "where are we
bound for, now?"

"Why, Master Frank," he answered, "to tell you the
plain truth, while you were sleeping ofi the effects of the
last night's regent's punch, I was on foot inquiring into
the state of matters and things ; and since we have pretty
well exhausted our home beats, and I have heard that
some ground, about ten miles distant, is in prime order,
I have determined to take a try there; but we must look
pretty lively, for it is seven now, and we have got a drive
of ten stiff miles before us. Now, old Grampus, are you
ready ?"

"Aye, aye!" responded Tom, and mounted up, a work
of no small toil for him, into the back seat of the wagon,
where I soon took my seat beside him, with the two well-
broke setters crouching at our feet, and the three guns
strapped neatly to the side rails of the wagons. Harry
next mounted the box. Tim touched his hat and jumped
up to his side, and off we rattled at a merry trot, wheel-
ing around the rival tavern which stood in close pro-
pinquity to Tom's; then turning short again to the left
hand, along a broken stony road, with several high and
long hills, and very awkward bridges in the valleys, to the
north-westward of the village.

Five miles brought us into a pretty little village lying
at the base of another ridge of what might almost be
denominated mountains, save that they were cultivated to
tJie very top. As we paused on the brow of this, another
glorious valley spread out to our view, with the broad
sluggish waters of the Wallkill winding away, with hardly
any visible motion, toward the northeast, through a vast
tract of meadow land covered with high rank grass, dotted
with clumps of willows and alder brakes, and interspersed
with large, deep swamps, thick-set with high grown tim-
ber; while far beyond these, to the west, lay the tall
variegated chain of the Shawahgunk mountains.

Eattling briskly down the hill, we passed another thriv-

58 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

ing village, built on the mountain side; made two or three
sharp ugly turns, still going at a smashing pace, and com-
ing on the level ground, entered an extensive cedar swamp,
impenetrable above with the dark boughs of the evergreen
colossi, and below with half a dozen varieties of rhodo-
dendron, calmia, and azalia. Through this dark, dreary
track, the road ran straight as the bird flies, supported on
the trunks of trees, constituting what is here called a
corduroy road ; an article which, praise be to all the gods,
is disappearing now so rapidly, that this is the only bit
to be found in the civilized regions of New York — and
bordered to the right and left by ditches of black tenacious
mire. Beyond this we scaled another sandy hillock, and
pulled up at a little wayside tavern, at the door of which
Harry set himself lustily to halloa.

•'Why, John; hilloa, hillo; John Riker!"

Whereon, out came, stooping low to pass under the
lintel of a very fair sized door, one of the tallest men I
ever looked upon; his height, too, was exaggerated by
the narrowness of his chest and shoulders, which would
have been rather small for a man of five foot seven; but
to make up for this, his legs were monstrous, his arms
muscular, and his whole frame evidently powerful and
athletic, though his gait was slouching, and his air sin-
gularly awkward and unhandy.

"Why, how do, Mr. Archer? I hadn't heerd you was in
these pairts — arter woodcock, I reckon?"

"Yes, John, as usual; and you must go along with us,
and show us the best ground."

"Well, you see, I cam't go to-day — for Squire Breawn,
and Dan Faushea, and a whole grist of Goshen boys is
comin' over to the island here to fish ; but you cam't well
go vio-ong."

"Why not; are birds plenty?"

"Well! I guess they be! Plentier than ever yet I see
them here."

"By Jove! that's good news." Harry answered; "where
*hall we find the first?"

■'Why, amost anywheres — but here, jist down by the
first bridge, there's a hull heap — leastwise there was a
Friday — and then you'd best go on to the second bridge,
and keep the edge of the hill right up and down to

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 59

Merrit's Island; and then beat down here home to the
first bridge again. But won't you liquor?"

"No, not this morning, John ; we did our liquoring last
night. Tom, do you hear what John says T'

"1 hear, I hear," growled out old Tom; "but the critter
lies like nauthen. He always does lie, cuss him."

"Well, here goes, and we'll soon see!"

And away we went again, spinning down a little de-
scent, to a flat space between the hill-foot and the river,
having a thick tangled swamp on the right, and a small
boggy meadow full of grass, breast-high, with a thin open
alder grove beyond it on the left. Just as we reached the
bridge Harry pulled up.

''Jump out, boys, jump out! Here's the spot."

"I tell you there aint none; darn you! There aint none
never here, nor haint been these six years; you know that
now, yourself. Archer."

"We'll try it, all the same," said Harry, who was coolly
loading his gun. "The season has been wetter than com-
mon and this ground is generally too dry. Drive on, Tim,
over the bridge, into the hollow ; you'll be out of shot
there; and wait till we come. Holloa! mark, Tom."

For, as the wagon wheels rattled upon the bridge, up
jumped a cock out of the ditch by the road side, from
under a willow brush, and skimmed past all of us within
five yards. Tom Draw and T, who had got out after
Harry, were but in the act of ramming down our first
bari'els; but Harry, who had loaded one, and was at that
moment putting down the wad upon the second, dropped
his ramrod with the most perfect sang-froid I ever wit-
nessed, took a cap out of his right-hand pocket, applied it
to the cone, and pitching up his gun, knocked down the
bird as it wheeled to cross the road behind us, by the
cleverest shot possible.

"That's pretty well for no birds, anyhow, Tom," he ex-
claimed, dropping his butt to load. "Go and gather that
bird, Frank, to save time; he lies in the wagon rut, there.
How now? down charge, you Chase, sir! what are you
about?"

The bird was quickly bagged, and Harry loaded. We
stepped across a dry ditch, and both dogs made game at
the same instant.

60 WARWICK WOODLA-\U6.

"Follow the red dog, Frank !" cried Archer, "and go very
slow; there are birds here!"

And as he spoke, while the dogs v^ere crawling along,
catlike, pointing at every step, and then again creeping
onward, up skirred two birds under the very nose of the
white setter, and crossed quite to the left of Harry. I saw
him raise his gun, but that was all; for at the self-same
moment one rose to me, and my ear caught the flap of yet
another to my right; five barrels were discharged so ,
quickly, that they made but three reports; I cut my bird
well down, and looking quickly to the left, saw nothing
but a stream of feathers drifting along the wind. At the
same time, old Tom shouted on the right,

"I have killed two, by George! What have you done,
boys?"

"Two, I !" said Archer. ''Wait, Frank, don't you begin
to load till one of us is ready ; there'll be another cock up,
like enough. Keep your barrel; I'll be ready in a jiffy!"

And well it was that I obeyed him, for at the squeak of
the card, in its descent down his barrel, another bird did
rise, and was making off for the open alders, wheii my
whole charge riddled him; and instantly at the report
three more flapped up, and of course went off unharmed;
but we marked them, one by one, down in the grass at the
wood edge. Harry loaded again. We set off to pick up
our dead birds. Shot drew, as I thought, on my first, and
pointed dead within a yard of where he fell. I walked
up carelessly, with my gun under my arm, and was act-
ually stooping to bag him, as I thought, when whiz! one
rose almost in my face; and, bothered by seeing us all
around him, towered straight up into the air. Taken
completely by surprise, I blazed away in a hurry, and
missed clean: but not five yards did he go, before Tom
cut him down.

''Aha, boy I whose eye's wiped now ?"

"Mine, Tom, very fairly ; but can that be the same cock
I knocked down, Archer?"

"Not a bit of it; I saw your's fall dead as a stone; he
lies half a yard farther in that tussoc."

"How the deuce did you see him? Why. you were
shooting your own at the same moment."

"All knack, Frank ; I marked both my own and yours,
and one of Tom's besides. Are you ready I Hold up.

W.VKWKJK WOOULANUS. 6 J

Shot! There; he has got your dead bird. Was I not
right? And look to! for, by Jove! he is standing on an-
other, with the dead bird in his mouth! That's pretty,
is it not ?''

Again two rose, and both were killed ; one by Tom, and
one by Archer; my gun hanging fire.

"That's nine birds down before we have bagged one,"
said Archer; 'T hope no mure will rise, or we'll bo losing
these."

But this time his hopes were not destined to meet ac-
complishment, for seven more woodcock got up, five of
which were scattered in the grass around us, wing-broken
or dead, before we had even bagged the bird which Shot
was gently mouthing.

"I never saw anything like this in my life, Tom. Did
you?" cried Harry.

"I never did, by George!" responded Tom. "Now do
you think there's any three men to be found in York,
such darned eternal fools as to be willing to shoot a
match agin us?"

"To be sure I do, lots of them; and to beat us too, to

boot, you stupid old porpoise. Why, there's Harry T ,

rtnd iSTick L , and a dozen more of them, that you and

T would have no more chance with, than a gallon of
brandy would have of escaping from you at a single sit-
ting. But we have shot pretty well, to-day. Now do, for
heaven's sake, let us try to bag them !"

And scattered though they were in all directions, among
the most infernal tangled grass I ever stood on, those
excellent dogs retrieved them one by one, till every bird
was pocketed. We then beat on and swept the rest ot
the meadow, and the outer verge of the alders, picking up
three more birds, making a total of seventeen brought to
bag in less than half an hour. We then proceeded to the
wagon, took a good pull of water from a beautiful clear
spring by the road-side, properly qualified with whiskey,
and rattled on about one mile farther to the second bridge.
Here we again got out.

"Now, Tim," said Harry, "mark me well I Drive gently
to the old barrack yonder under the west-end of that wood-
side, unhitch the horses and tie them in the shade; you
can give them a bite of meadow hay at the same time;

62 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

and then get luncheon ready. We shall be with you by
two o'clock at farthest."

"Ay, ay, sur!"

And off he drove at a steady pace, while we, striking
into the meadow, to the left hand of the road, went along-
getting sport such as I never beheld or even dreamed of
before. For about five hundred yards in width from the
stream, the ground was soft and miry to the depth of some
four inches, with long sword-grass quite knee-deep, and at
every fifty yards a bunch of willows or swamp alders. In
every clump of bushes we found from three to five birds,
and as the shooting was for the most part very open, we
rendered on the whole a good account of them. The dogs
throughout behaved superbly, and Tom was altogether
frantic with the excitement of the sport. The time seemed
short indeed, and I could not for a moment have imagined
that it was even noon, when we reached the barrack.

This was a hut of rude, unplaned boards, which had
been put up formerly with the intent of furnishing a
permanent abode for some laboring men, but which, hav-
ing been long deserted, was now used only as a temporary
shelter by charcoal burners, hay-makers, or like ourselves,
stray sportsmen. It was, however, though rudely built,
and fallen considerably into decay, perfectly beautiful
from its romantic site; for it stood just at the end of a
long tangled covert, with a huge pin oak-tree, leaning
abruptly out from an almost precipitous bank of yellow
sand, completely canopying it; while from a crevice in
the sand-stone there welled out a little source of crystal
water, which expanded into as sweet a basin as ever served
a Dryad for her bath in Arcady, of old.

Before it stretched the wide sweep of meadow land, with
the broad blue Wellkill gliding through it, fringed by a
skirt of coppice, and the high mountains, veiled with a
soft autumnal mist, sleeping beyond, robed in their many-
colored garb of crimson, gold and green. Besides the
spring the indefatigable Tim had kindled a bright glanc-
ing fire while in the basin were cooling two long-necked
bottles of the Baron's best ; a clean white cloth was spread
in the shade before the barrack door, with plates and cups,
and bread cut duly, and a travelling case of cruets, with
all the other appurtenances needful.

On our appearance he commenced rooting in a heap of

embers, and soon produced six nondescript looking articles
enclosed — as they dress maintonon cutlets or red mullet —
in double sheets of greasy letter paper — these he incon-
tinently dished, and to my huge astonishment they turned
out to be three couple of our woodcock, which that inde-
fatigable varlet had picked, and baked under the ashes,
according to some strange idea, whether original, or bor-
rowed at second hand from his master, T never was en-
abled to ascertain.

The man, be he whom he may, who invented that plat,
is second neither to Caramel nor to Ude — the exquisite
juicy tenderness of the meat, the preservation of the
gravy, the richness of the trail — by heaven! they were in-
imitable.

In that sweet spot we loitered a full hour — then counted
our bag, which amounted already to fifty-nine cock, not
including those with which Tim's gastronomic art had
spread for us a table in the wilderness — then leaving him
to pack up and meet ua at the spot where we first started,
we struck down the stream homeward, shooting our way
along a strip of coppice about ten yards in breadth,
bounded on one side by a dry bare bank of the river, and
on the other by the open meadows. We of course kept
the verges of this covert, our dogs working down the
middle, and so well did we manage it, that when we
reached the wagon, just as the sun was setting, we num-
bered a hundred and twenty-five birds bagged, besides
two which were so cut by the shot as to be useless, six
which we had devoured, and four or five which we lost
in spite of the excellence of our retrievers. When we
got home again, although the Dutchman was on the spot,
promising us a quarter race upon the morrow, and press-
ing earnestly for a rubber to-night, we were too much
used up to think of anything but a good supper and an
early bed.

64 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

DAY THE FIFTH.

Our last day's shooting in the vale of Sugar-loaf was
over; and, something contrary to Harry's first intention,
we had decided, instead of striking westward into Sulli-
van or Ulster, to drive five miles upon our homeward
route, and beat the Longpond mountain — not now for
such small game as woodcock, quail, or partridge; but for
a herd of deer, which, although now but rarely found
along the western hills, was said to have been seen already
several times, to the number of six or seven head, in a
small cove, or hollow basin, close to the summit of the
Bellevale ridge.

As it was not of course our plan to return again to Tom
Draw's, everything was now carefully and neatly packed
away; the game, of which we had indeed a goodly stock,
was produced from Tom's ice-house, where, suspended
from the rafters, it had been kept as sound and fresh as
though it had been all killed only on the preceding day.

A long deep box, fitting beneath the gun-case under the
front seat, was now produced, and proved to be another
of Harry's notable inventions ; for it was lined throughout,
lid, bottom, sides and all, with zinc, and in the centre had
a well or small compartment of the same material, with
a raised grating in the bottom. This well was forthwith
lined with a square yard, or rather more, of flannel, into
which was heaped a quanity of ice pounded as fine as
possible, sufficient to cram it absolutely to the top; the
rest of the box was then filled with the birds, displayed in
regular rows, with heads and tails alternatins:, and a thin
coat of clean dry wheaten straw between each layer, until
but a few inches' depth remained between the noble pile
and the lid of this extempore refrigerator; this space be-
ing filled in with flannel packed close and folded titrhtly.
the box was locked and thrust into the accurately fitting
boot by dint of the exertion of Timothy's whole strenirth.

"There, Frank," cried Harry, who had superintended
the storage of the whole with nice scrutiny, "those chaps
will keep there as sovmd as roaches, till we get to young
Tom's at Ramapo; you cannot think what work I had,
trving in vain to save them, before I hit upon this meth-
od ; T tried hops, which I have known in Ensrland to keep
birds in an extraordinary manner — for, what you'll scarce

\var\vk;k nvuoulands. t>6

believe, I once ate a Ptarmigan, the day year alter it wae
killed, which had been packed with hops, in perfect
preservation, at Famloy, Mr. Fawke's place in Yorkshire!
— and I tried prepared charcoal, and got my woodcock
down to New Vork, looking like chimney sweeps, and
smelling' "

"\\^iat the devil difference does it make to you now,
Archer, I'd be pleased to knowl" interposed Tom; "what
under heaven they smells like — a man that eats cock with
their guts ip, like you does, needn't stick now, I reckon,
for a leetle mite of a stink!"

"Shut up, you old villain," answered Harry, laughing,
■'bring the milk punch, and get your great coat on, if you
mean to go with us; for it's quite keen this morning, I
can tell you ; and we must be stirring too, for the sun will
be up before we get to Teachman's. Now, Jem, get out
the hounds; how do you take them, Tom?"

"Why, that darned Injun, Jem, he'll take them in my
lumber wagon — and, I say, Jem, see that you don't over-
drive old roan — away with you, and rouse up Garry, he
means to go, I guess I"

After a mighty round of punch, in which, as we were
now departing, one half at least of the village joined, we
t'.Il got under way; Tom, buttoned up to the throat in a
huge white lion skin wrap-rascal, looking for ail the world
like a polar bear erect on its hind legs; and all of us
muffled up pretty snugly, a proceeding which was rendered
necessary by a brisk bracing north-west breeze.

The sky, though it was scarcely the first twilight of an
autumnal dawn, was beautifully clear, and as transparent
— though still somewhat dusky — as a wide sheet of crystal;
a few pale stars were twinkling here and there; but in
the east a broad gray streak changing on the horizon's
edge to a faint straw color, announced the sim's approach.

The whole face of the country, hill, vale, and woodland,
was overspread by an universal coat of silvery hoar-frost;
thin wreaths of snowy mist rising above the tops of the
sere woodlands, throughout the whole length of the lovely
vale, indicated as clearly as though it were traced on a
map, the direction of the stream that watered it; and as
we paused upon the brow of the first hiUoek, and looked
back toward the village, with its white steeples and neat
cottage dwellings buried in the still repose of that early

66 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

hour, with only one or two faint colunms of blue smoke
worming their way up lazily into the cloudless atmos-
phere, a feeling of regret — such as has often crossed my
mind before, when leaving any place wherein I have
spent a few days happily, and which I never may see
more — rendered me somewhat indisposed to talk.

Something or other- — it might with Harry, perhaps,
have been a similar train of thought — caused both my
comrades to be more taciturn by far than was their wont;,
and we had rattled over five miles of our route, and scaled .
the first ridge of the hills, and dived into the wide ravine; ■
midway, the depth of this the pretty village of Bellevale
lies on the brink of the dammed rivulet, which, a few
yards below the neat stone bridge, takes a precipitous
leap of fifty feet, over a rustic wier, and rushes onward,
bounding from ledge to ledge of rifted rocks, chafing and
fretting as if it were doing a match against time, and
were in danger of losing its race.

Thus we had passed the heavy lumber wagon, with Jem
and Garry perched on a board laid across it, and the four
couple of stanch hounds nestling in the straw which Tom
had provided in abundance for their comfort, before the
silence was broken by any sounds except the rattle of the
wheels, the occasional interjectional whistle of Harry to
his horses, or the flip of the well handled whip.

Just, however, as we were shooting ahead of the lumber
wain, an exclamation from Tom Draw, which should have
been a sentence, had it not been very abruptly terminated
in a long rattling eructation, arrested Archer's progress.

Pulling short up where a jog across the road constructed
— after the damnable mode adopted in all the hilly por-
tions of the interior — in order to prevent the heavy rains
from channelling the descent, afforded him a chance of
stopping- on the hill, so as to slack his traces. "How
now," he exclaimed ; "what the deuce ails you now, you
old rhinoceros?"

"Oh, Archer, I feels bad; worst sort, by Judas! It's
that milk. punch, I reckon; it keeps a raising — raising, all
the time, like— ^ — "

"And you want to lay it, I suppose, like a ghost, in a
sea of whiskey; well, I've no especial objection! Here,
Tim, hand the case bottle, and the dram cup ! No ! no !
confound you pass it this way first, for if Tom once gets

W AliW K Iv W (KIOl.A.ND.N. (j (

hold of it, we may sny good-bye to it altogtlier. There,"'
ho continued, alter we had both taken a moderate sip at
the superb old Feriutosh, "there, now take your chance
at it, and for Heaven's sake do leave a drop for Jem and
Gan-y; by George now, you shall not drink it all!" as Tom
poured down the third cup full, each being as big as an
ordinary beer-glass. "There was above a pint and a
half in it when you began, and now there's barely one
cup-full between the two of them. An't you ashamed of
yourself now, you greedy old devil?"

"It docs go right, I swon !" was the only reply that
could be got out of him.

"That's more a plaguy sight than the bullets will do,
out of your old tower musket; you're so drunk now, I
fancy, that you couldn't hold it straight enough to hit
a deer at three rods, let alone thirty, which you are so
fond of chattering about."

"Do tell now," replied Tom, "did you, or any other
feller, ever see me shoot the worser for a mite of liquor,
and as for deer, that's all a no sich thing; there arnt no
deer a this side of Duck-seedar's. It's all a lie of Teach-
m^n's and that Deckering son of a gun."

"Holloa ! hold up, Tom — recollect yesterday ! — I thought
there had been no cock down by the first bridge there,
these six years; why you're getting quite stupid, and a
crop.ker too, in your old age."

"Mayhap I be," he answered rather gnifBy; "mayhap I
be, but you won't git no deer to-day, I'll stand drinks for
the comp.^ny ; and if we doos start one, I'll lay on my own
musket agin your rifle."

"Well! we'll soon see, for here we are," Harry replied,
as after leaving the high-road just at the summit of the
Bellevale mountain, he rattled down a very broken rutty
bye-road at the rate of at least eight miles an hour, vastly
to the discomfiture of our fat host, whose fleshy sides were
jolted almost out of their skin by the concussion of the
wheels against the many stones and jogs which opposed
their progress.

"Here we are, or at least soon will be. It is but a short
hi? If mile through these woods to Teachman's cottage. Is
there a gun loaded, Tim? It's ten to one we shall have a
partridge fluttering up and treeing here directly; I'll let
the dogs out — get away. Flash ! get away, Dan ! you little

68 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

rascals. Jump out, good dogs. Shot, Chase — hie up with
you !" and out they went rattling and scrambling tii ough
the brush-wood all four abreast!

At the same moment Tim, leaning over into uic body
of the wagon, lugged out a brace of guns from their
leathern cases; Harry's short ounce ball rifle, and the long-
single barrelled duck gun.

" 'T roifle is loaden wi' a single ball, and 't single goon
wi' yan of them green cartridges!"

"Much good ball and buck-shot will do us against part-
ridge; nevertheless, if one trees, I'll try if I can't cut
his head off for him," said Archer, laughing.

"Nay! nay! it be-ant book-shot; it's no but noomber
three; tak' hand on't Measter Draa, tak' baud on't. It's
no hoort thee, mon, and 't horses boath stand foire
cannily !"

Scarce had Fat Tom obeyed his imperative solicitations,
and scarce had Tim taken hold of the ribbands which
Harry relinquished the moment he got the rifle into his
hands, before a most extraordinary hiibbub arose in the
little skirt of coppice to our left; the spaniels quested for
a second's space at the utmost, when a tremendous crash
of the branches arose, and both the setters gave tongue
furiously with a quick savage yell.

The road at this point of the wood made a short and
very sudden angle, so as to enclose a small point of ex-
tremely dense thicket between its two branches; on one
of these was our wagon, and down the other the lumber-
wain was rumbling, at the moment when this strange and
most unexpected outcry started us all.

"What in t' fient's neam is yon?" cried Timothy.

"And what the devil's that?" responded I and Archer
in a breath.

But whatever it was that had aroused the dogs to such
a most unusual pitch of fury, it went crashing through
the brush-wood for some five or six strokes at a fearful
rate toward the other wagon; before, however it had
reached the road, a most appalling shout from Jem, fol-
lowed upon the instant by the blended voices of all the
hounds opening at once, as on a view, excited us yet
farther !

I was still tugging at my double gun, in the vain hope
of getting it out time enough for action. Tom had

WAKWKK WOODLANDS. (Ill

scrambled out of the wagon on the first alarm, aud stood
eye, ear, and heart erect, by the off side of the horses,
which were very restless, pawing, and plunging violently,
and almost defying Timothy's best skill to hold them;
while Harry, having cast off his box-eoat, stood firm and
upright on the foot board as a carved statue, with his
rifle cocked and ready ; when, headed back upon us by the
yell of Lyn and the loud clamor of his fresh foes, the first
buck I had seen in America, and the largest I had seen
any where, dashed at a single plunge into the round, clear-
ing the green head of a fallen hemlock, apparently with-
out an effort, his splendid antlers laid back on his neck,
and his white flag lashing his fair round haunch as the
fleet bitches Bonny Belle and Blossom yelled with their
shrill fierce trebles close behind him.

Seeing that it was useless to persist in my endeavor to
extricate my gun, and satisfied that the matter was in
good hands, I was content to look on. an inactive but
most eager witness.

Tom, who from his position at the head of the off
horse, commanded the first view of the splendid creature,
pitched his gun to his shoulder hastily and fired ; the
smoke drifted across my face, but through its vapory
folds I could distinguish the dim figure of the noble hart
still bounding unhurt onward; but, before the first echo
of the round ringing report of Tom's shot-gun reached
my ear, the sharp flat crack of Harry's rifle followed it,
and at the self-same instant the buck sprang six feet into
the air, and pitched head foremost on the ground; it was
but for a moment, however, for with the speed of light
he struggled to his feet, and though sore wounded, was
yet toiling onward when the two English foxhounds
dashed at his throat and pulled him down again.

''Run in, Tom, run in! quick," shouted Harry, "he's
not clean killed, and may gore the dogs sadly!"

''I've got no knife," responded Tom, but dauntlessly he
do shed in. all the same, to the rescue of the bitches —
which I believe he loved almost as well as his own children
— and though, encumbered by his ponderous white top-
coat, not to say by his two hundred and fifty weight of
solid flesh, seized the fierce animal by the brow-antlers,
and bore him to the ground, before Harrj', who had leaped
out of the wagon, with his first words, could reach him.

70 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

The next moment the keen short hunting knife, without
which Archer never takes the field, had severed at a single
stroke the weasand of the gallant brute; the black blood
streamed out on the smoking hoar-frost, the full eyes
glazed, and, after one sharp fluttering struggle, the life
departed from those graceful limbs, which had been but
a few short instants previous so full of glorious energy —
of fiery vigor.

"Well, that's the strangest thing I ever heard of, let
alone seeing," exclaimed Archer, "fancy a buck like that
lying in such a mere fringe of coppice, and so near to the
road-side, too ! and why the deuce did he lay there till
we almost passed him!"

"I know how it's been, any heaw," said Jem, who had
by this time come up, and was looking on with much
exultation flashing in his keen small eye. "Bill Speer
up on the hill there telled me jist now, that they druv a
big deer down from the back-bone clear down to this here
hollow just above, last night arter dark. Bill shot at him,
and kind o' reckoned he hot him — but I guess he's mis-
taken— leastwise he jumped strong enough jist neaw!—
but which on you was 't 'at killed him?"

"I did," exclaimed Tom, " I did by !"

"Why you most impudent of all old liars," replied
Harry — while at the same time, with a most prodigious
chuckle, Tim Matlock pointed to the white bark of a birch
sapling, about the thickness of a man's thigh, standing at
somewhat less than fifteen paces' distance, wherein the
large shot contained by the wire cartridge — the best sport-
ing invention by the way, that has been made since per-
cussion caps — had bedded themselves in a black circle,
cut an inch at least in the solid wood, and about two
inches in diameter!

"I ken gay and fairly," exclaimed Tim, " 'at Ay rammed
an Eley's patent cartridge into 't single sroon this morn-
ing; and yonder is 't i' t' birk tree, and Ay ken a load o'
shot fra an unce bullet!"

The laugh was general now against fat Tom ; especially
as the small wound made by the heaw ball of Harry's
rifle was plainly visible, about a hand's breadth behind
the heart, on the side toward which he had aimed; while
the lead had passed directly through, in an oblique direc-
tion forward, breaking the left shoulder blade, and lodging

WAKWICK WctOULANUS. 71

just beneath the skin, whence a touch of the knife dis-
lodged it.

"What now — what now, boys?" cried the old sinner, uo
whit disconcerted by the general mirth against him. "I
say, by gin! I killed him, and I say so yet. Which on
ye all — which on ye all daared to go in on him, wishout a
knife nor nothen. I killed him, I say, anyhow, and so
let's drink 1"

''Well, I believe we must wet him," Harry answered, "so
get out another flask of whiskey, Tim; and you Jem and
Garry lend me a hand to lift this fine chap into the
wagon. By Jove I but this will make the TeacWans open
their eyes ; and now look sharp ! You sent the Teachmans
word that we were coming, Tom?"

"Sartin! and they've got breakfast ready long enough
before this, anyways."

With no more of delay, but with lots more of merri-
ment and shouting, on we drove; and in five minutes'
space, just as the sun was rising, reached the small rude
enclosure around two or three log huts, lying just on the
verge of the beautiful clear lake. Two long sharp boats,
and a canoe scooped out of a whole tree, were drawn up
on the sandy beach; a fishing net of many yards in length
was drying on the rails; a brace of large, strong, black
and tan foxhounds were lying on the step before the door ;
a dozen mongrel geese, with one wing-tipped wild one
among them, were sauntering and gabbling about the nar-
row yard; and a glorious white-headed fishing eagle, with
a clipped wing, but otherwise at large, was perched upon
the roof hard by the chimney.

At the rattle of our arrival, out came from the larger
of the cottages, three tall rough-looking countrymen to
greet us, not one of whom stood less than six foot in his
stoekincrs, while two were several inches taller.

Great was their wonder, and loud were their congratu-
lations when they beheld the unexpected prize which we
had gained, while on our route; but little space was given
at that time to either; for the coffee, which, by the way,
was poor enough, and the hot cakes and fried perch,
which were capital, and the grilled salt pork, swimming
in fat, and the large mealy potatoes bursting through
their brown skins, were ready smoking upon a rough
wooden board, covered, however, by a clean white table

72 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

clotli, beside a sparkling fire of wood, which our drive
through the brisk mountain air had rendered by no means
unacceptable.

We breakfasted like hungry men and hunters, both
rapidly and well; and before half an hour elapsed, Archer,
with Jem and one of our bold hosts, started away, well
provided with powder and ball, and whiskey, and accom-
panied by all the hounds, to make a circuit of the western
hill, on the summit of which they expected to be joined
by two or three more of the neighbors, whence they pro-
posed to drive the whole sweep of the forest-clad descent
down to the water's edge.

Tim was enjoined to see the provisions, and to provide
as good a dinner as his best gastronomic skill and the
contents of our portable larder might afford, and I was
put under the charge of Tom, who seemed, for about an
hour, disposed to do nothing but to lie dozing, with a
cigar in his mouth, stretched upon the broad of his back,
on a bank facing the early sunshine just without the
door; while our hosts were collecting bait, preparing fish-
ing tackle, and cleaning or repairing their huge clumsy
muskets. At length, when the drivers had been gone al-
ready for considerably more than an hour, he got up and
shook himself.

"Now, then, boys," he exclaimed, "we'll be a movin.
You Joe Teachman, what are you lazin there about, cuss
you? You go with Mr. Forester and Garry in the big
boat, and pull as fast as you can put your oars to water,
till you git opposite the white-stone pint — and there lie
still as fishes! You may fish, though, if you will, Forest-
er," he added, turning to me, "and I do reck on. the big
yellow perch will bite the darndest, this cold morning,
arter the sun erits fairly up — but soon as ever you hear
the hounds holler, or one of them chaps shoot, then look
you out right stret away for business! Cale, here, and
I'll take the small boat, and keep in sight of you; and so
we can kiver all this eend of the pond like, if the deer
tries to cross hereaways. How long is't, Cale, since we
had six on them all at once in the water — six — seven —
eight! well, T swon, it's ten years asone now! But come,
we mus'nt stand here talkin, else we'll get a dammin when
they drives on a bvick into the pond, and none of us in
there to tackle with him!"

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 73

So without more ado, we got into our boats, disposed
our guns, with the stocks towards us in the bows, laid in
our stock of tinder, pipes, and liquor, and rowed off
merrily to our appointed stations.

Never, in the whole course of my life, has it been my
fortune to look upon more lovely scenery than I beheld
that morning. The long narrow winding lake, lying as
pure as crystal beneath the liquid skies, reflecting, with
the correctness of the most perfect mirror, the abrupt and
broken hills, which sank down so precipitously into it —
clad as they were in foliage of every gorgeous dye, with
which the autumn of America loves to enhance the beauty
of her forest pictures — that, could they find their way into
its mountain-girdled basin, ships of large burthen might
lie afloat within a stone's throw of the shore — the slopes
of the wood-covered knolls, here brown, or golden, and
interspersed with the rich crimson of the faded maples,
there verdant with the evergreen leaves of the pine and
cedar — and the far azure summits of the most distant
peaks, all steeped in the serene and glowing sunshine of
an October morning.

For hours we lay there, our little vessel floating as the
occasional breath of a sudden breeze, curling the lake into
sparkling wavelets, chose to direct our course, smoking
our cigars, and chatting cozily, and now and then pulling
up a great broad-backed yellow bass, whose flapping would
for a time disturb the peaceful silence, which reigned over
wood, and dale, and water, quite unbroken save by the
chance clamor of a passing crow : yet not a sound betoken-
ing the approach of our drivers had reached our ears.

Suddenly, when the sun had long passed his meridian
height, and was declining rapidly toward the horizon, the
full round shot of a musket rang from the mountain top,
followed immediately by a sharp yell, and in an instant
the whole basin of the lake was filled with the harmonious
discord of the hounds.

I could distinguish on the moment the clear sharp chal-
lenge of Harry's high-bred foxhounds, the deep bass voices
of the Southern dogs, and the untamable and cur-like
yelping of the dogs which the Teachmans had taken with
them.

Ten minutes passed full of anxiety, almost of fear.

We knew not as yet whither to turn our boats' head, for

74 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

every second the course of the hounds seemed to vary, at
one instant they would appear to be rushing directly down
to us, and the next instant they would turn as though they
were going up the hill again. Meantime our beaters were
not idle — their stirring shouts, serving alike to animate
the hounds, and to force the deer to water, made rock
and wood reply in cheery echoes; but, to my wonder, I
caught not for a long time one note of Harry's gladsome
voice.

At length, as I strained my eyes against the broad
hill-side, gilt by the rays of the declining sun, I caught
a glimpse of his form running at a tremendous pace,
bounding over stock and stone, and plunging through
dense thickets, on a portion of the declivity where the tall
trees had a few years before been destroyed by accidental
fire.

At this moment the hounds were running, to judge from
their tongues, parallel to the lake and to the line which
he was running — the next minute, with a redoubled clam-
or, they turned directly down to him. I lost sight of him.
But half a minute afterward, the shfirp crack of his rifle
again rang upon the air, followed by a triumphant
"Whoop! who-whoop!" and then, I knew, another stag
had fallen.

The beaters on the hill shouted again louder and louder
than before — and the hounds still raved on. By heaven!
but there must be a herd of them a-foot! And now the
pack divides! The English hounds are bringing their
game down — here — by the Lord! just here — right in our
very faces! The Southrons have borne away over the
shoulder of the hill, still running hot and hard in Jolly
Tom's direction.

"By heaven!" I cried, "look, Teachman! Garry, look!
There! See you not that noble buck? — he leaped that
siimach bush like a race-horse! and see! see! now he will
take the water. Bad luck on it! he sees us, and heads
back!"

Again the fleet hounds rally in his rear, and chide till
earth and air are vocal and harmonious. Hark! hark!
how Archer's cheers ring on the wind! Now he turns
once again — he nears the edge — how glorious! with what
M beautiful bold boimd he leaped from that hisch bluff into
the flashing' wave! with what a majesty he tossed his

W.UtWU.K \M>UI)L.\M).S. 75

antlered head above the spray ! with how magnificent and
brave a stroke he breasts the curling billows !"

"Give way ! my men, give way I"

How the frail bark creaks and groans as we ply the long
oars in the rullocks — how the ash bends in our sturdy
grasp — how the boat springs beneath their impulse.

"Together, boys I together! now — now we gain — now,
Garry, lay your oar aside — up with your musket — now
you are near enough — give it to him, in heaven's name! a
good shot, too! the bullet ricocheetted from the lake
scarcely six inches from his nose! Give way again — it's
my shot now!"

And lifting my Joe Manton, each barrel loaded with a
bullet carefully wadded with greased buckskin. I took a
careful aim and fired.

"That's it," cried Garry; "well done, Forester — right
through the head, by George!"

And, as he spoke, I fancied for a moment he was right.
The noble buck plunged half his height out of the bright
blue water, shaking his head as if in the death agony, but
the next instant he stretched out again with vigor unim-
paired, and I could see that my ball had only knocked a
tine off his left antler.

My second barrel still remained, and without lowering
the gun, I drew my second trigger. Again a fierce plunge
told that the ball had not erred widely; and this time,
when he again sank into his wonted posture, the deep
crimson dye that tinged the foam which curled about his
graceful neck, as he still struggled, feebly fleet, before his
unrelenting foes, gave token of a deadly woimd.

Six more strokes of the bending oars — we shot alongside
— a noose of rope was cast across his branching tines, the
keen knife flashed across his throat, and all was over!
We towed him to the shore, where Harry and his com-
rades were awaiting us with another victim to his un-
erring aim. We took both bucks and all hands on board,
pulled stoutly homeward, and found Tom lamenting.

Two deer, a buck of the first head, and a doe, had taken
water close beside him — he had missed his first shot, and
in toilinff over-hard to recover lost ground, had broken his
oar, and been compelled inactively to witness their escape.

Three fat bucks made the total of the day's sport — not
one of which had fallen to Tom's boristed musket.

76 WARWICK WOODLANDS,

It needed all that Tim's best dinner, with lots of cham-
pagne and Ferintosh, could do to restore the fat chap's
equanimity; but he at last consoled himself, as we threw
oui'selves on the lowly beds of the log hut, by swearing
that by the etarnal devil he'd beat us both at partridges
tomorrow.

DAY THE SIXTH.

The sun rose broad and bright in a firmament of that
most brilliant and transparent blue, which I have wit-
nessed in no other country than America, so pure, so
cloudless, so immeasurably distant as it seems from the
beholder's eye! There was not a speck of cloud from
east to west, from zenith, to horizon ; not a fleece of vapor
on the mountain sides; not a breath of air to ruffle the
calm basin of the Greenwood lake.

The rock-crowned, forest-mantled ridge, on the farther
side of the narrow sheet was, visible almost as distinctly
through the medium of the pure fresh atmosphere, as
though it had been gazed at through a telescope — the hues
of the innumerable maples, in their various stages of de-
cay, purple, and crimson,and bright gorgeous scarlet, were
contrasted with the rich chrome yellow of the birch and
poplars, the sere red leaves of the gigantic oaks, and with
the ever verdant plumage of the junipers, clustered in
massy patches on every rocky promontory, and the tall
spires of the dark pines and hemlock.

Over this mass of many-colored foliage, the pale thin
yellow light of the new-risen sun was pouring down a flood
of chaste illumination ; while, exhaled from the waters
by his first beams, a silvery gauze-like haze floated along
the shores, not rising to the height of ten feet from
the limped surface, which lay unbroken by the smallest
ripple, undisturbed by the slightest splash of fish or insect,
as still and tranquil to the eye as though it had been one
huge plate of beaten burnished silver; with the tall cones
of the gorgeous hills in all their rich variety, in all their
clear minuteness, reflected, summit downward, palpable as
their reality, in that most perfect mirror.

Such was the scene on which I gazed, as on the last day
of our sojourn in the Woodlands of fair Orange, I issued

W.VKVViC'K WUDDL.VNKS. 77

from the little cabin, under the roof of which I had slept
30 dreamlessly and deep, after the fierce excitement of our
deer hunt, that while I was yet slumbering, all save my-
self had risen, donned their accoutrements, and sallied
forth, I knew not whither, leaving me certainly alone,
although as certainly not so much to my glory.

From the other cottage, as I stood upon the threshold,
I might hear the voices of the females, busy at their culi-
nary labors, the speedily approaching term of which was
obviously denoted by the rich savory steams which tainted
— not, I confess, unpleasantly — the fragrant morning air.

As I looked out upon this lovely morning, I did not, I
acknowledge it, regret the absence of my excellent though
boisterous companions; for there was something which I
cannot define in the deep stillness, in the sweet harmoni-
ous quiet of the whole scene before me, that disposed my
spirit to meditation far more than to mirth; the very
smoke which rose from the low chimneys of the Teach-
mans' colony — not surging to and fro, obedient to the
fickle winds — but soaring straight, tall, unbroken, upward,
like Corinthian columns, each with its curled capital —
seemed to invite the soul of the spectator to mount with
it toward the sunny heavens.

By-and-bye I strayed downward to the beach, a narrow
strip of silvery sand and variegated pebbles, and stood
there long, silently watching the unknown sports, the
seemingly — to us at least — unmeaning movements, and
strange groupings of the small fry, which darted to and
fro in the clear shallows within two yards of my feet; or
marking the brief circling ripples, wrought by the morn-
ing swallow's wing, and momently subsiding into the
wonted rest of the calm lake.

How long I stood there musing I know not, for I had
fallen into a train of thought so deep that I was utterly
unconscious of everything around me, when I was sud-
denly aroused from my reverie by the quick dash of oars,
and by a volley of some seven barrels discharged in quick
succession. As I looked up with an air, I presume some-
what bewildered, I heard the loud and bellowing laugh
of Tom, and saw the whole of our stout company gliding
up in two boats, the skifF and the canoe, toward the land-
ing plflce, perhaps a hundred yards from the spot where
I stood.

7i WARWICK WOODLANDS,

"Come here, darn you," were the first words I heard,
from the mouth of what speaker it need not be said —
"come here, you lazy, snortin, snoozin Decker — lend a
hand here right stret away, will you? We've got more
perch than all of us can carry — and Archer's got six
wood-duck."

Hurrying down in obedience to this unceremonious
mandate, I perceived that indeed their time had not been
misemployed, for the whole bottom of the larger boat was
heaped with fish — the small and delicate green perch, the
cat-fish, hideous in its natural, but most delicious in its
artificial shape, and, above all, the large and broad-backed
yellow bass, from two to four pounds weight. While
Archer, who had gone forth with Garry only in the canoe,
had picked up half a dozen wood-duck, two or three of
the large yellow-legs, a little bittern, known by a far less
elegant appellative throughout the country, and thirteen
English snipe.

"By Jove!" cried I, "but this is something like — where
the deuce did you pick the snipe up, Harry — and, above
all, why the deuce did you let me lie wallowing in bed this
lovely morning?"

"One question at a time," responded he, "good Master
Frank; one question at a time. For the snipe, I found
them very unexpectedly, I tell you, in a bit of marshy
meadow just at the outlet of the pond. Garry was pad-
dling me along at the top of his pace, after a wing tipped
wood-duck, when up jumped one of the long-billed rascals,
and had the impudence to skim across the creek under my
very nose — 'skeap! skeap!' Well, I dropped him, you
may be sure, with a charge, too, of duck shot ; and he
fell some ten yards over on the meadow ; so leavina: Garry
to pursue the drake, I landed, loaded my gun with No. 9,
and went to work — the result as you see ; but I cleared the
meadow — devil a bird is left there, except one I cut to
pieces, and could not find for want of Chase — two went
away without a shot, over the hills and far away. As for
letting you lie in bed, you must talk to Tom about it ; I
bid him call you, and the fat rascal never did so, and
never said n word about you, till we were ready for a
start, and then no Master Frank was to the fore."

"Well, Tom," cried T, "what have you got to say to
this?"

\\ak\\u;k woodlands. 79

"Now, CU3S you, (iou't come fooliu' about me," replie«l
that worthj', aiming- a blow at me, which, had it taken
place, might well have felled Goliah; but which, as I
sprang aside, wasting its energies on the impassive air,
had well nigh floored the striker. "Don't you come foolin'
about me — you knows right well I called you, and yoii
knows, too, you almost cried, and told me to clear out,
and let you git an hour's sleep; for by the Lord you
thought Archer and I was made of steel 1 — you couldn't
and you wouldn't — and now you wants to know the rea-
son why you wam't along with usl"

"Never mind the old thief, Frank," said Archer, seeing
that I was on the point of answering, "even his own aunt
says he is the most notorious liar in all Orange county —
and Heaven forbid we should gainsay that most respect-
able old lady!"

Into what violent asseveration our host would have
plunged at this declaration, remains, like the tale of
Cambuscan bold, veiled in deep mystery ; for as he started
from the log on which he had been reposing while in the
act of unsplicing- his bamboo fishing pole, the elder of
the Teachmans thrust his head out of the cabin nearest
to us — "Come, boys, to breakfast !" — and at the first word
of his welcome voice, Tom made, as he would have him-
self defined it, stret tracks for the table. And a mighty
different table it was from that to which he had sat down
on the preceding morning. Timothy — unscared by the
wonder of the mountain nymphs, who deemed a being of
the masculine gender as an intruder, scarce to be tol-
erated, on the mysteries of the culinary art — ^had exerted
his whole skill, and brought forth all the contents of his
canteen! We had a superb steak of the fattest venison,
graced by cranberries stewed with cayenne pepper, and
sliced lemons. A pot of excellent black tea, almost as
strong as the cognac which flanked it; a disli of beautiful
fried perch, with cream a? ,thick as porridge, our own loaf
sugar, and Teachman's new laid eggs, hot wheaten cakes,
and hissing rashers of right tender pork, furnished a
breakfast forth that might have vied successfully with
those which called forth, in the Hebrides, such raptures
from the lexicographer.

Breakfast despatched — for which, to say the truth,
Harry gave us but little time — we mustered our arrav

hO WARWICK WOODLANDS.

and started; Harry and Tom and I making one party,
with the spaniels— ^arry, the Teachmans, and Timothy,
with the setters, which would hunt very willingly for him
in Archer's absence, forming a second. It was scarce
eight o'clock when we went out, each on a separate beat,
having arranged our routes so as to meet at one o'clock
in the great swamp, said to abound, beyond all other
places, in the ruffed grouse or partridge, to the pursuit
of which especially we had devoted our last day.

"Now, Frank," said Hairy, "you have done right well
throughout the week; and if you can stand this day's
tramp, I will say for you that you are a sportsman, aye,
every inch of one. We have got seven miles right hard
walking over the roughest hills you ever saw — the hardest
moors of Yorkshire are nothing to them — before we reach
the swamp, and that you'll find a settler! Tom, here,
will keep along the bottoms, workings his way as best he
can; while we make good the uplands! Are your flasks
full?"

"Sartain, they are!" cried Tom — "and I've got a rousin'
big black bottle, too — but not a drop of the old cider
sperrits do you git this day, boys; not if your thirsty
throats were cracking for it!"

"Well, well! we won't bother you — you'll need it all,
old porpoise, before you get to the far end. Here, take a
hard boiled egg or two, Frank, and some salt, and I'll
pocket a few biscuits — we must depend on ourselves to-
day."

"Ay, ay, Sur," chuckled Timothy, "there's naw Tim
Matlock to mak looncheon ready for ye 'a the day. See
thee, measter Frank. Ay'se gotten 't measter's single
barrel; and gin I dunna ootshoot measter Draa — whoy
Ay'se deny my coontry!"

"Most certainly you will deny it then, Tim," answered
I, "for Mr. Draw shoots excellently well, and you "

"And Ay'se shot many a hare by 't braw moon, doon
i' bonny Cawoods. Ay'se beat, Ay'se oophaud* it!" So
saying, he shouldered the long single barrel, and paddled
off with the most eytmorrlinarv expedition after the
Teachmans, who had already started, leading the setters
in a leash, till they were out of sight of Archer.

"They have the longest way to go," said Harry, "by a
♦Oophaud, Yorkshire. Anglice, uphold.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 81

mile at the least; so we have time for a cheroot before we
three get under way."

Cigars were instantly produced and lighted, and we
lounged about the little court for the best part of half
an hour, till the report of a distant gunshot, ringing with
almost innumerable reverberatons along the woodland
shores, announced to us that our companions had already
got into their work.

"Here goes," cried Harry, springing to his feet at once,
and grasping his good gun; "here goes — they have got
into the long hollow, Tom, and by the time we've crossed
the ridge, and got upon our ground, they'll be abreast of
us."

"Hold on ! hold on !" Tom bellowed, "you are the
darndest critter, when you do git goin — now hold on, do
— I wants some rum, and Forester here looks a kind of
white about the gills, his what-d'ye-call, cheeroot, has made
him sick, I reckon !"

Of course, with such an exhortation in our ears as this,
it was impossible to do otherwise than wet our whistles
with one drop of the old Ferintosh; and then, Tom hav-
ing once again recovered his good humor, away we went,
and "clombe the high hill," though we **swam not the
deep river," as merrily as ever sportsman did, from the
days of Arbalast and Longbow, down to these times of
Westley Richards' caps and Fley's wire cartridges.

A tramp of fifteen minutes through some scrubby
brushwood, brought us to the base of a steep stony ridge
covered with tall and thrifty hickories and a few oaks
and maples intermixed, rising so steeply from the shore
that it was necessary not only to strain every nerve of
the leg, but to swing our bodies up from tree to tree, by
dint of hand. It was indeed a hard and heavy tug; and
I had pretty tough work, what between the exertion of
the ascent, and the incessant fits of laughter into which
I was thrown by the grotesquely agile movements of fat
Tom; who, grunting, panting, sputtering, and launching
forth from time to time the strangest and most blasphem-
ously horrid oaths, contrived to make way to the summit
faster than either of us — crashing through the dense un-
derwood of juniper and sumach, uprooting the oak sap-
lings as he swung from this to that, and spurning down
huge stones upon us, as we followed at a cautious dis-

82 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

tauce. When we at last crowned the ridge, we f oixnd him,
just as Harry had predicted^ stretched in a half-recum-
bent attitude, leaning against a huge gray stone, with his
fur cap and double-barrel lying upon the withered leaves
beside him, puffing, as Archer told him, to his mighty
indignation, like a great grampus in shoal water.

After a little rest, however, Falstaff revived, though not
before he had imbibed about a pint of applejack, an occu-
pation in which he could not persuade either of us, this
time, to join him. Descending from our elevated perch,
we now got into a deep glen, with a small brooklet wind-
ing along the bottom, bordered on either hand by a stripe
of marshy bog earth, bearing a low growth of alder
bushes, mixed with stunted willows. On the side opposite
to that by which we had descended, the hill rose long and
lofty, covered with niighty timber-trees standing in open
ranks and overshadowing a rugged and unequal surface,
covered with whortleberry, wintergreen, and cranberries,
the latter growing only along the courses of the little
runnels, which channelled the whole slope. Here, stony
ledges and gray broken crags peered through the under-
wood, among the crevices of which the stunted cedars stood
thick set, and matted with a thousand creeping vines and
brambles; while there, from some small marshy basin, the
giant Rhododendron Maximum rose almost to the height
of a timber tree.

"Here, Tom," said Harry, "keep you along this run —
you'll have a woodcock every here and there, and look
sharp when you hear them fire over the ridge, for they
can't shoot to speak of, and the ruffed grouse will cross —
you know. You, master Frank, stretch your long legs
and get three parts of the way up this hill — over the sec-
ond mound — there, do you see that great blue stone with
a thunder-splintered tree beside it? just beyond that! then
turn due west, and mark the trending of the valley, keep-
ing a little way ahead of me, which you will find quite
easy, for I shall have to beat across you both. Go very
slow, Tom — now, hurrah !"

Exhorted thus, I bounded up the hill and soon reached
my appointed station; but not before I heard the cheery
voice of Archer encourao-ing the eager spaniels — "Hie
cock ! hie cock ! pu-r-r-h !" — till the woods rang to the
clear shout.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 83

Scarce had I reached the top, before, as I looked down
into the glen below me, a puff of white smoke, in9tantly
succeeded by a second, and the loutl full reports of both
his barrels from among- the green-leafed alders, showed
me that Tom had sprung game. The next second I heard
the sharp questing of the spuniel Dan, followed by Har-
ry's "Charge! — down Cha-ai*ge, you little thief — down to
cha-arge, will you !"

But it was all in vain — for on he went furious and
fast, and the next moment the thick whirring of a grouse
reached my excited ears. Carefully, eagerly, I gazed out
to mark the wary bird; but the discharge of Harry's piece
assured me, as I thought, that further watch was need-
less; and stupidly enough I dropped the muzzle of my
gun.

Just at the self -same point of time — "Mark ! mark,
Frank !" shouted Archer, "mark ! there are a brace of
them !" — and as he spoke, gliding with speed scarcely in-
ferior to a bullet's flight upon their balanced pinions, the
noble birds swept past me, so close that I could have
struck them with a riding whip.

Awfully fluttered ,was I — I confess — but by a species of
involuntary and instinctive consideration I rallied in-
stantly, and became cool. The grouse had seen me, and
wheeled diverse ; one darting to the right, through a small
opening between a cedar bush and a tall hemlock — the
other skimming through the open oak woods a little to-
ward the left.

At such a crisis thought comes in a second's space;
and I have often fancied that in times of emergency or
great surprise, a man deliberates more promptly, and
more prudently withal, than when he has full time to let
his second thought trench on his first and mar it. So
was it in this case with me. At half a glance I saw, that
if 1 meant to get both birds, the right-hand fugitive must
be the first, and that with all due speed: for but a few
yards further he would have gained a brake which would

have laughed to scorn Lord Kennedy or Harry T r.

Pitching my gun up to my shoulder, both barrels load-
ed with Eley's red wire cartridge No. 6, I gave him a snap
shot, and had the satisfaction of seeing him keeled well
over, not wing-tipped or leg-broken, but fairly riddled
by the concentrated charge of something within thirty

84 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

yards. Turning as quick as light, I caught a fleet sight
of the other, which by a rapid zig-zag was now flying full
across my front, certainly over forty-five yards distant,
among a growth of thick-set saplings — the hardest shot, in
my opinion, that can be selected to test a quick and steady
sportsman. I gave it him, and down he came too — killed
dead — that I knew, for I had shot full half a yard before
him. Just as I dropped my butt to load, the hill began
to echo with the vociferous yells of master Dan, the quick
redoubled cracks of Harry's heavy dog-whip, and his in-
cessant rating — "Down, cha-arge! For sha-ame! Dan!
Dan! down cha-arge! for sha-ame!" — broken at times by
the impatient oaths of Tom Draw, in the gulley, who had,
it seems, knocked down two woodcock, neither of which
he could bagj owing to the depth and instability of the
wet bog.

"Quit ! quit ! cuss you, quit there, leatherin that brute !
Quit, I say, or I'll send a shot at you ! Come here, Archer
— I say, come here ! — there be the darndest lot of droppins
here, I ever see — full twenty cock, I swon!"

But still the scourge continued to resound, and still the
raving of the spaniel excited Tom's hot ire.

"Frank Forester!" exclaimed he once again. "Do see
now — Harry missed them partridge, and so he licks the
poor dumb brute for it. I wish I were a spannel, and
he'd try it on with me!"

"I will, too," answered Archer, with a laugh; "I will,
too, if you wish it, though you are not a spaniel, nor any
thing else half so good. And why, pray, should I not
scourge this wild little imp? he ran slap into the best
pack of ruffed grouse I have seen this two years — fifteen
or sixteen birds. I wonder they're not scattered — it's full
late to find them packed !'

"Did you kill ere a one?" Tom holloaed; "not one,
either of you !"

"I did," answered Harry, "I nailed the old cock bird,
and a rare dog he is ! — two pounds, good weight, I war-
rant him," he added, weighing him as he spoke. "Look
at the crimson round his eye, Frank, like a cock pheas-
ant's, and his black ruff or tippet — by George! but he's a
beauty! And what did you do?" he contimied.

"I bagged a brace — the only two that crossed me."

"Did you, though?" exclaimed Archer, with no small

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 85

expression of surprise; "did you, though? — that's prime
work — it takes a thorough workman to bag a double shot
upon October grouse. But come, we must get down to
Tom; hark how the old hound keeps bawling."

Well, down we went. The spaniels quickly retrieved
his dead birds, and flushed some fifteen more, of which
we gave a clean account — Harry making up for lost time
by killing six cock, right and left, almost before they
topped the bushes — seven more fell to me, but single birds
all of them — and but one brace to Tom, who now began
to wax indignant; for Archer, as I saw, for fun's sake,
was making it a point to cut down every bird that rose
to him, before he could get up his gun; and then laughed
at him for b^ing fat and slow. But the laugh was on
Tom's side before long — for while we were yet in the
valley, the report of a gun came faintly down the wind
from beyond the hill, and as we all looked out attentively,
a grouse skimmed the' brow, flying before the wind at a
tremendous pace, and skated across the valley without
stooping from his altitude. I stood the first, and fired, a
yard at least ahead of him — on he went, unharmed and
undaunted; bang went my second barrel — still on he went,
the faster, as it seemed, for the weak insult.

Harry came next, and he too fired twice, and — tell it
not in Oath — missed twice! "Now, Fat-Guts!" shouted
Archer, not altogether in his most amiable or pleasing
tones; and sure enough up went the old man's piece —
roundly it echoed with its mighty charge — a cloud of
feathers drifted away in a long line from the slaughtered
victim — which fell not direct, so rapid was its previous
flight, but darted onward in a long declining tangent, and
struck the rocky soil with a thud clearly audible where
we stood, full a hundred yards from the spot where it fell.

He bagged, amid Tom's mighty exultation, forward
again we went and in a short half hour got into the re-
mainder of the pack which we had flushed before, in some
low tangled thorn cover, among which they lay well, and
we made havoc of them. And here the oddest accident T
ever witnessed in the field took place — so odd, that I am
half ashamed to write to it — but where's the odds, for it
is true.

A fine cock bird was flushed close at Tom's feet, and
went off to the leff," Harry and I both standing to the

86 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

right; he blazed away, and at the shot the bird sprung up
six or eight feet into the air, with a sharp staggering
flutter. "Killed dead!" cried I; "well down again, Fat
Tom." But to my great surprise the grouse gathered
wing, and flew on, feebly at first, and dizzily, but gaining
strength more and more as he went on the farther. At
the last, after a long flight, he treed in a tall leafless pine.

"Run after him, Frank," Archer called to me, "you
are the lightest; and we'll beat up the swale till you re-
turn. You saw the tree he took?"

"Aye, aye!" said I preparing to make off.

"Well ! he sits near the top — now mind me ! no chivalry,
Frank ! give him no second chance — a ruffed grouse, dart-
ing downward from a tall pine tree, is a shot to balk the
devil — it's full five to one that you shoot over and behind
him — give him no mercy!"

Off I went, and after a brisk trot, five or six minutes
long, reached my tree, saw my bird perched on a broken
limb close to the time-blanched trunk, cocked my Joe
Manton, and was in the very act of taking aim, when
something so peculiar in the motion of the bird attracted
me, that I paused. He was nodding like a sleepy man,
and seemed with difiiculty to retain his foothold. While
I was gazing, he let go, pitched headlong, fluttered his
wings in the clealh-struggle, yet in air, and struck the
ground close at my feet, stone-dead. Tom's first shot had
cut off the whole crown of the head, with half the brain
and the right eye; and after that the bird had power to
fly five or six hundred yards, and then to cling upon its'
perch for at least ten minutes.

Rejoining my companions, we again went onward, slay-
ing and bagging as we went, till when the sun was at
meridian we sat down beside the brook to make our frugal
meal — not to-day of grilled woodcock and champagne, but
of hard eggs, salt, biscuit, and Scotch whiskey — not so
bad either — nor were we disinclined to profit by it. We
were still smoking on the marge, when a shot right ahead
told lis that our out-skirting party was at hand.

All in an instant were on the alert; in twenty minutes
we joined forces, and compared results. We had twelve
grouse, five rabbits, seventeen woodcock; they, six gray
squirrels, seven grouse, and one solitary cock — Tim, proud
as Lucifer at having led the field. But his joy now was

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 87

at au end — for to his charge the setters were committed
to be led in leash, while we shot on, over the spaniels.
Another dozen grouse, and eighteen rabbits, completed
our last bag in the Woodlands.

Late was it when we reached the Teachmans' hut — and
long and deep was the carouse that followed; and when
the moon had sunk and we were turning in, Tom Draw
swore with a mighty oath of deepest emphasis — that since
we had passed a week with him, he'd take a seat down in
the wagon, and see the Beacon Races. So we filled round
once more, and clinked our glasses to bind the joyous
contract, and turned in happy.

DAY THE SEVENTH.

Once more we were compelled to change our purpose.

When we left Tom Draw's, it had been, as we thought,
finally decided that we were for this bout to visit that
fair village no more, but when that worthy announced
his own determination to accompany us on our homeward
route, and when we had taken into consideration the fact,
that, independent of Tom's two hundred and fifty weight
of solid flesh, we had two noble bucks, beside quail, ruffed
grouse, woodcock, and rabbit almost innumerable to trans-
port, in addition to our two. selves and Timothy, with the
four dogs, and lots of luggage — when we, I say, consid-
ered all this, it became apparent that another vehicle must
be provided for our return. So during the last jorum,
it had been put to the vote and unanimously carried that
we should start for Tom's, by a retrograde movement, at
four o'clock in the morning, breakfast with him, and rig
up some drag or other wherein Timothy might get the
two deer and the dogs, as best he might, into the city.

"As for us," said Harry, "we will go down the other
road, Tom, over the Jaack-bone of the mountain, dine with
old Colonel Beams, stop at Paterson, and take a taste at
the Holy Father's poteen — you may look at the Falls if
you like it, Frank, while we're looking at the Innishowen
— and so get home to supper. I'll give you both beds
for one night — but not an hour longer — my little cellar
would be broken, past all doubt, if old Tom were to get
two nights out of it !"

88 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"Ay'se sure it would," responded Timothy, who had
been listening, all attention, mixing meanwhile some
strange compound of eggs and rum and sugar. "Whoy,
measter Draa did pratty nigh drink 't out yance — that
noight 'at eight chaps, measter Frank, drank oop two
baskets o' champagne, and fifteen bottles o' 't breawn
sherry — 'Ay carried six on 'em to bed, Ay'se warrant it —
and yan o' them, young measter Clark, he spoilt me a new
suit o' liveries, wi' vomiting a top on me."

"That'll do, Timothy," interposed Archer, unwilling, as
I thought, that the secret mysteries of his establishment
should be revealed any further to the profane ears which
were gaping round about us — "that'll do for the present —
give Mr. Draw that flip — he's looking at it very angrily,
I see! and then turn in, or you'll be late in the morning;
and, by George, we must be away by four o'clock at latest,
for we have all of sixty miles to make to-morrow, and
Tom's fat carcass will try the springs most consumedly,
down hill."

Matters thus settled, in we turned, and — as it seemed
to me, within five minutes, I was awakened by Harry
Archer, who stood beside my bed full dressed, with a
candle in his hand.

"Get up," he whispered, "get up, Frank, very quietly;
slip on your great-coat and your slippers — we have a
chance to serve Tom out — he's not awake for once! and
Timothy will hav^ the horses ready in five minutes."

Up I jumped on the instant, haviled on a rough-frieze
pea-jacket, thrust my unstockinged feet into their con-
trary slippers, and followed Harry, on the tips of my toes,
along a creaking passage, guided by the portentous ruck-
ling snorts, which varied the profundity of the fat man's
slumbers. When I reached his door, there stood Harry,
laughing to himself, with a small quiet chuckle, perfectly
inaudible at three feet distance, the intensity of which
could, however, be judged by the manner in which it
shook his whole person. Two huge horse-buckets, filled
to the brim, were set beside him; and he had cut a piece
of an old broomstick so as to fit exactly to the width of
the passage, across which he had fastened it, at about
two feet from the ground, so that it must most indubit-
ably trip up any person, who should attempt to run along
that dark and narrow thoroughfare.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 89

"Now, FranTc," said he, "see here! I'll set this bucket
here behind the door — we'll heave the other slap into his
face — there he lies, full on the broad of his fat back, with
his mouth wide open — and when he jumps up full of
fight, which he is sure to do, run you with the candle,
which blow out the moment he appears, straight down
the passage. I'll stand back here, and as he trips over
that broomstick, which he is certain to do, I'll pitch the
other bucket on his back — and if he does not think he's
bewitched, I'll promise not to laugh. I owe him two or
three practical jokes, and now I've got a chance, so I'll
pay him all at once."

Well ! we peeped in, aided by the glare of the streaming
tallow candle, and there, sure enough, with all the clothes
kicked off him, and his immense rotundity protected only
from the cold by an exceeding scanty shirt of most an-
cient cotton, lay Tom, flat on his back, like a stranded
porpoise, with his mouth wide open, through which he
was puffing and breathing like a broken-winded cab-horse,
while through his expanded nostrils he was snoring loud-
ly enough to have awaked the seven sleepers. Neither of
us could well stand up for laughing. One bucket was
deposited behind the door, and back stood Harry ready
to slip behind it also at half a moment's warning — the
candlestick was placed upon the floor, which I was to kick
over in my flight.

"Stand by to heave!" whispered my trusty comrade —
"heave!" and with the word — flash! — slush! — out went
the whole contents of the full pail, two gallons at the
least of ice-cold water, slap in the chaps, neck, breast, and
stomach of the sound sleeper. With the most wondrous
noise that ears of mine have ever witnessed — a mixture
of sob, snort, and groan, concluding in the longest and
most portentous howl that mouth of man ever uttered
— Tom started out of bed; at the very instant I dis-
charged my bucket, I put my foot upon the light, flung
down the empty pail, and bolted. Poor devil! — as he got
upon his feet the bucket rolled up with its iron handles
full against his shins, the oath he swore at which en-
counter, while he dashed headlong after me, directed by
the noise I made on purpose, is most unmentionable.
Well knowing where it was, I easily jumped over the stick
which barred the passage. Not so Tom — for going at the

90 WAHWICK WOODLAJSDS.

very top of his pace, swearing like forty troopers all the
time, he caught it with both legs just below the knees,
and went down with a squelch that shook the whole hut
to the rooftree, while at the self -same instant Harry once
again soused him with the contents of the second pail,
and made his escape unobserved by the window of Tom's
own chamber. Meanwhile I had reached my room, and
flinging off my jacket, came running out with nothing
but my shirt and a lighted candle, to Tom's assistance,
in which the next moment I was joined by Harry, who
rushed in from out of doors with the stable lanthom.

"What's the row now ?" he said, with his face admirably
cool and quiet. "What the devil's in the wind?"

"Oh! Archer!' grunted poor Tom, in most piteous ac-
cents— ^"them darned etamal Teachmans — they've mur-
dered me right out! I'll never get over this — ugh! ugh!
ugh! Half drowned and smashed up the darndest! Now
aint it an etarnal shame! Cuss them, if I doos n't sarve
them out for it, my name's not Thomas Draw!"

"Well, it is not," rejoined Harry, "who in the name of
wonder ever called you Thomas? Christened you never
were at all, that's evident enough, you barbarous old
heathen — but you were certainly named Tom."

Swearing, and vowing vengeance on Jem Lyn, and
Garry, and the Teachmans — each one of whom, by the
way, was sound asleep during this pleasant interlude —
and shaking with the cold, and sputtering with uncon-
trollable fury, the fat man did at length get dressed, and
after two or three libations of milk punch, recovered his
temper somewhat, and his spirits altogether.

Although, however, Hairy and I told him very franldy
that we were not merely the sole planners, but the sole
executors, of the trick — it was in vain we spoke. Tom
would not have it.

"No — he knew — he knew well enough; did we go for
to think he was such an old etarnal fool as not to know
Jem's voice — a bloody Decker — he would be the death
of him."

And direful, in good truth, I do believe, were the jokes
practical, and to him no jokes at all, which poor Jem had
to undergo, in expiation of his fancied share in this our
misdemeanor.

Scarce had the row subsided, ■ before the horses were

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 91

annouuced. Harry and I, and Tom and Timothy, mount-
ed the old green drag; and, with our cheroots lighted —
the only lights, by the way, that were visible at all — off
we went at a rattling trot, the horses in prime condition,
full of fire, biting and snapping at each other, and mak-
ing their bits clash and jingle every moment. Up the
long hill, and through the shadowy wood, they strained,
at full ten miles an hour, without a touch of the whip,
or even a word of Harry's well-known voice.

We reached the brow of the mountain, where there are
four cleared fields — whereon I once saw snow lie five feet
deep on the tenth day of April — and an old barn; and
thence we looked back through the cold gray gloom of an
autumnal morning, three hours at least before the rising
of the sun, while the stars were waning in the dull sky,
and the moon had long since set, toward the Greenwood
lake.

Never was there a stronger contrast, than between that
lovely sheet of limpid water, as it lay now — cold, dun, and
dismal, like a huge plate of pewter, without one glittering
ripple, without one clear reflection, surrounded by the
wooded hills which, swathed in a dim mist, hung grim
and gloomy over its silent bosom — and its bright sunny
aspect on the previous day.

Adieu ! fair Greenwood Lake ! adieu ! Many and blithe
have been the hours which I have spent around, and in,
and on you — and it may well be I shall never see you
more — whether reflecting the full fresh greenery of sum-
mer; or the rich tints of cisatlantic autumn; or sheeted
with the treacherous ice; but never, thou sweet lake, never
will thy remembrance fade from my bosom, while one
drop of life-blood warms it; so art thou intertwined with
memories of happy careless days, that never can return —
of friends, truer, perhaps, though rude and humble, than
all of prouder seeming. Farewell to thee, fair lake! Long
may it be before thy rugged hills be stripped of their
green garniture, or thy bright waters* marred by the un-

•Marred it has been long ago. A huge dam has been drawn
flcro-^s its outlet, in orclpr to supply a feeder to the Morris Canal — a
gigantic piece of unprofitable improvement, made, I believe, merely
as a basis on which for brokers, stock-jobbers — et id genus omne of
men too utilitarian and ambitious to be content with earning money
hoDP«tly — to exercise their prodigious cuteness.

The eCect of this has been to change the bold shores into pesti-

92 WARWICK WOODIyANDS.

picturesque improvements of man's avarice! — for truly
thou, in this utilitarian age, and at brief distance from
America's metropolis, art young, and innocent, and un-
polluted, as when the red man drank of thy pure waters,
long centuries ere he dreamed of the pale-faced oppres-
sors, who have already rooted out his race from half its
native continent.

Another half hour brought us down at a rattling pace
to the village, and once again we pulled up at Tom's well-
known dwelling, just as the day was breaking. A crowd
of loiterers, as usual, was gathered even at that untimely
season in the large bar-room; and when the clatter of our
hoofs and wheels annoimced us, we found no lack of
ready-handed and quick-tongued assistants.

"Take out the horses, Timothy," cried Harry, "unhar-
ness them, and rub them down as quickly and as thor-
oughly as may be — let them have four quarts each, and
mind that all is ready for a start before an hour. Mean-
time, Frank, we will overhaul the game, get breakfast,
and hunt up a wagon for the deer and setters."

"Don't bother yourself about no wagon," interposed
Tom, "but come you in and liquor, else we shall have you
gruntin half the day; and if old roan and my long pig-
box won't carry down the deer, why I'll stand treat."

A jorum was prepared, and discussed accordingly ; fresh
ice produced, the quail and woodcock carefully unpacked,
and instantly re-stowed with clean straw, a measure
which, however, seemed almost supererogatory, since so
completely had the external air been excluded from the
game-box, that we found not only the lumps of ice in the
bottom unthawed, but the flannel which lay over it stiff
frozen; the birds were of course perfectly fresh, cool,
and in good condition. Our last day's batch, which it
was found impossible to get into the box, with all the
rufFed grouse, fifty at least in number, were tied up by the
feet, two brace and two brace, and hung in festoons round

lentlal submerged swamps, whereon the dead trees still stand, tall,
gray and ghostly ; to convert a number of acres of beautiful meadow-
land into stagnant grassy shallows ; to back up the waters at the
lake's head, to the utter destruction of several fine farms ; and, last
not least, to create fever and ague in abundance, where no such
thing had ever been heard tell of before.

Certainly ! your well devised Improvement is a great thing for a
country :

WARWICK WOOPLANDS. 93

the inside rails of the front seat and body, while about
thirty hares dangled by their hind legs, with their long
ears flapping to and fro, from the back seat and baggage
racl<. The wagon looked, I scarce know how, something
between an (English stage-coach when the merry days of
Christmas are at hand, and a game-hunter's taxed cart.

The business of re-packing had been scarce accom-
plished, and Harry and myself had just retired to change
our shooting-jackets and coarse fustians for habiliments
more suitable for the day and our destination — iNew York,
to-wit, and Svuiday — when forth came Tom, bedizened
from top to toe in his most new and knowing rig, and
looking now, to do him justice, a most respectable and
portly yeoman.

A broad-brimmed, low-crowned, and long-napped white
hat. set forth assuredly to the best advantage his rotund,
rubicund, good-humored phiz ; a clean white handkerchief
circled his sturdy neck, on the voluminous folds of which
reposed in placid dignity the mighty collops of his double
chin. A bright canary waistcoat of imported kerseymere,
with vast mother-of-pearl buttons, and a broad-skirted
coat of bright bine cloth, with glittering brass buttons
half the size of dollars, covered his upper man, while loose
drab trousers of stout double-milled, and a pair of well-
blacked boots, completed his attire; so that he looked as
different an animal as possible, from the unwashed, un-
combed, half -naked creature he presented, when lounging
in his bar-room in his every-day apparel.

''Why, halloa, Guts!" cried Archer, as he entered,
"you've broken out here in a new place altogether."

"Now quit, you, callin of me Outs," responded Tom,
more testily than I had ever heard him speak to Harry,
whose every whim and frolic he seemed religiously to ven-
erate and humor; "a fellow doesn't want to have it 'Guts'
here, and 'Guts' there, over half a county. Why, now, it
was but a week since, while 'lections was a goin' on, I
got a letter from some d — d chaps to Newburg — 'Rouse
about now, old Guts, yovi'll need it this election' "

"Ha ! ha ! ha !" shouted Harry and I almost simultane-
ously, delighted at Tom's evident annoyance.

"Who wrote it, Tom?"

"That's what I'd jist give fifty dollars to know now,"
replied mine host, clinching his mighty paw.

94 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"Why, what would you do," said I, "if you did know?"

"Lick him, by George 1 Lick him, in the first place,
till he was as nigh dead as I daared lick him — and then
I'd make him eat up every darned line of it I But come,
come — breakfast's ready; and while we're getting through
with it, Timothy and Jem Lyn will fix the pig-box, and
make the deer all right and tight for travelling!"

No sooner said than done — an ample meal was speedily
despatched — and when that worthy came in to announce
all ready, for the saving of time, master Timothy was
accommodated with a seat at a side-table, which he occu-
pied with becoming dignity, abstaining, as it were, in con-
sciousness of his honorable promotion, from any of the
quaint and curious witticisms, in which he was wont to
indulge; but manducating, with vast energy, the various
good things which were set before him.

It was a clear, bright Sabbath morning, as ever shone
down on a sinful world, on which we started homeward —
and, though I fear there was not quite so much solemnity
in our demeanor as might have best accorded with the no-
tions of over strict professors, I can still answer that, with
much mirth, much merriment, and much "good feeling in
our hearts, there was no touch of irreverence, or any taint
of what could be called sinful thought. The sun had risen
fairly, but the hour was still too early for the sweet peace-
f\il miisic of the church-going bells to have made their
echoes tunable through the rich valley. A merry caval-
cade, indeed, we started — Harry leading the way at his
usual slap-dash pace, so that one, less a workman than
himself, would have said he went up hill and down at the
same break-neck pace, and would take all the grit out
of his team before he had gone ten miles — while a more
accurate observer would have seen, at a glance, that he
varied his rate at almost every inequality of road, that he
quartered every rut, avoided every jog or mud-hole, hus-
banded for the very best his horses' strength, never making
them either pull or hold a moment longer than was abso-
lutely necessary from the bruptness of the ground.

At his left hand sat I, while Tom, in honor of his
superior bulk and weight, occupied with his magnificent
and portly person the whole of the back seat, keeping his
countenance as sanctified as possible, and nodding, with
some quaint and characteristic obser\'ation, to each one

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 95

of the scattered groups of country-people, which we en-
countered every quarter of a mile for the first hour of our
route, wending their way toward the village church —
but, when we reached the forest-mantled road which
clombe the mountain, making the arched woods resoiind
to many a jovial catch or merry hunting chorus.

Mounted sublime on an arm-chair lashed to the forepart
of the pig-box, sat Timothy in state — his legs well muffled
in a noble scarlet-fringed buffalo skin, and his body en-
cased in his livery top-coat — the setters and the spaniels
crouching most meekly at his feet, and the two noble
bucks — the fellow on whose steaks we had already made
an inroad, having been left as fat Tom's portion — securely
corded down upon a pile of straw, with their sublime and
antlered crests drooping all spiritless and humble over the
backboard, toward the frozen soil which crashed and rattled
under the ponderous hoofs of the magnificent roan horse —
Tom's special favorite — which, though full seventeen
hands high, and heavy in proportion, yet showing a good
strain of blood, trotted away with his huge load at full
ten miles an hour.

Plunging into the deep recesses of the Greenwoods, hill
after hill we scaled, a toilsome length of stony steep as-
cents, almost precipitous, until we reached the backbone of
the mountain ridge — a rugged, bare, sharp edge of granite
rock, without a particle of soil upon it, diving down at an
angle not much less than forty-five degrees into a deep
ravine, through which thundered and roared a flashing tor-
rent. This fearful descent overpast, and that in perfect
safety, we rolled merrily away down hill, till we reached
Colonel Beam's tavern, a neat, low-browed, Dutch, stone
farm-house, situate in an angle scooped out of a green
hill side, with half a dozen tall and shadowy elms before
it — a bright crystal stream purling along into the horse-
trough through a miniature aqueduct of hollowed logs,
and a clear cold spring in front of it, with half a score
of fat and lazy trout floating in its transparent waters.

A hearty welcome, and a no less hearty meal having
been here encountered and despatched, we rattled off again,
through laden orchards and rich meadows; passed the
confluence of the three bright rivers which issue from their
three mountain gorges, to form, by their junction, the
fairest of New Jersey's rivers, the broad Passaic; reached

96 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

the small village noted for rum-drinking and quarter rac-
ing— high Pompton — thence by the Preakneas mountain,
and Mose Canouze's tavern — whereat, in honor of Tom's
friend, a worthy of the self -same kidney with himself, we
paused awhile — to Paterson, the filthiest town, situate on
one of the loveliest rivers in the world, and famous only
for the possession, in the person of its Catholic priest, of
the finest scholar and best fellow in America, whom we un-
luckily found not at home, and therefore tasted not, ac-
cording to friend Harry's promise, the splendid Innishow-
en which graces at all times his hospitable board.

Eight o'clock brought us to Hoboken, where, by good
luck, the ferry boat lay ready — and nine o'clock had not
struck when we three sat down once again about a neat
small supper-table, before a bright coal fire, in Archer's
snuggery — Tom glorying in the prospect of the races on
the morrow, and I regretting that I had brought to its
conclusion

MY FIRST WEEK IN THE WOODL-ANDS.

THE WARWICK WOODLANDS

ON A SECOND VISIT

THE WAYSIDE INN.

On a atiU clear October evening, Frank Forester and
Harry Archer were sitting at the open window of a neat
country tavern, in a sequestered nook of Rockland County,
looking out upon as beautiful a view as ever gladdened the
eyes of wandering amateur or artist.

The house was a large old-fashioned stone mansion,
certainly not of later date than the commencement of the
revolution ; and probably had been, in its better days, the
manor-house of some considerable proprietor — the windows
were of a form very unusual in the States, opening like
doors, with heavy wooden mullions and small lattices,
while the walls were so thick as to form a deep embrasure,
provided with a cushioned window-seat; the parlor, in
which the friends had taken up their temporary domicile,
contained two of these pleasant lounges, the larger looking
out due south upon the little garden, with the road before
it, and, beyond the road, a prospect, of which more anon —
the other commanding a space of smooth green turf in
front of the stables, whereon our old acquaintance, Timo-
thy, was leading to and fro a pair of smoking horses. The
dark green drag, with all its winter furniture of gaily
decorated bear-skins, stood half-seen beneath the low-
arched wagon-shed.

The walls of the room — the best room of the tavern —
were panneUed with the dark glossy wood of the black
cherry, and a huge mantel-piece of the same material, took
up at least one- half of the side opposite the larger window,
while on the hearth below reposed a glowing bed of red-

98 WARWICK WOODLAJMDS.

hot hickory ashes, a foot at least in depth, a huge log of
that glorious fuel blazing upon the massive andirons.
Two large, deep gun-cases, a leathern magazine of shot,
and sundry canisters of diamond gunpowder, Brough's,
were displayed on a long table under the end window — a
four-horse whip, and two fly-rods in India-rubber cases,
stood in the chimney-corner; while revelling in the luxur-
ious warmth of the piled hearth lay basking on the rug,
three exquisitely formed Blenheim spaniels of the large
breed — short-legged and bony, with ears that almost swept
the ground as they stood upright, and coats as soft and
lustrous as floss silk.

On a round table, which should have occupied the centre
of the parlor, now pulled up to the window-seat, whereon
reclined the worthies, stood a large pitcher of iced water ; a
square case-bottle of cut crystal filled, as the flavor which
pervaded the whole room sufficiently demonstrated, with
superb old Antigua Shrub; several large rummers cor-
responding to the fashion of the bottle; a twisted taper
of green wax, and a small silver plate with six or eight
cheroots, real manillas.

Supper was evidently over, and the friends, amply
feasted, were now luxuriating in the delicious indolence,
half-dozing, half-day-dreaming, of a calm sleepy smoke,
modestly lubricated by an occasional sip of the cool
beverage before them. If we except a pile of box-coats,
capes, and macintoshes of every cut and color — a travel-
ling liquor-case which, standing open, displayed the tops
of three more bottles similar to that on the table, and
spaces lined with velvet for all the glass in use — and an-
other little leathern box, which, like the liquor-case, showed
its contents of several silver plates, knives, forks, spoons,
flasks of sauce, and condiments of different kinds — the
whole interior, as a painter would have called it, has been
depicted with all accuracy.

Without, the view on which the windows opened was
indeed most lovely. The day had been very bright and
calm ; there was not a single cloud in the pale transparent
heaven, and the sun, which had shone cheerfully all day
from his first rising in the east, till now when he was
hanging like a ball of bloody fire in the thin filmy haze
which curtained the horizon, was still shooting his long

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 99

rays, aud casting mauy a shadow over the slopes and
hollows which diversitled the scene.

Immediately across the road lay a rich velvet meadow,
luxuriant still and green — for the preceding month had
been rather wet, and frost had not set in to nip its verdure
— sloping down southerly to a broad shallow trout-stream,
which rippled all glittering and bright over a pebbly bed,
although the margin on the hither side was somewhat
swampy, with tufts of willows and bushes of dark alder
fringing it here and there, and dipping their branches in
its waters — the farther bank was skirted by a tall grove
of maple, hickory, and oak, with a thick undergrowth of
sumach arrayed in all the gorgeous garniture of autumn,
purples and brilliant scarlets and chrome yellows, mixed
up and harmonized with the dark copper foliage of a few
sere beeches, and the gray trunks apparent here and there
through the thin screen of the fast falling leaves.

Beyond this grove, the bank rose bold and rich in swell-
ing curves, with a fine corn-field, topped already to admit
every sunbeam to the ripening ears. A buckwheat stubble,
conspicuous by its deep ruddy hue, and two or three brown
pastures divided by high fences, along the lines of which
flourished a copious growth of cat-briers and sumachs, with
here and there a goodly tree waving above them, made
up the centre of the picture. Beyond this cultured knoll
there seemed to be a deep pitch of the land clothed with
a hanging wood of heavy timber ; and, above this again, the
soil surged upward into a huge and round-topped hill,
with several golden stubbles, shining out from the frame-
work of primeval forest, which, dark with many a mighty
jnne, covered the mountain to the top, except where at
its western edge it showed a huge and rifted precipice of
rock.

To the right, looking down the stream, the hills closed
in quite to the water's brink on the far side, rough and
uncultivated, with many a blue and misty peak discovered
through the gaps in their bold, broken outline, and a broad,
lake-like sheet, as calm and brightly pictured as a mirror,
reflecting their inverted beauties so wondrously distinct
and vivid, that the amazed eye might not recognise the
parting between reality and shadow. An old gray mill,
deeply embosomed in a clump of weeping willows, still
verdant, though the woods were sere and waxing leafless.

100 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

explained the nature of that tranquil pool, while, beyond
that, the hills swept down from the rear of the building,
which contained the parlor whence the two sportsmen
gazed, and seemed entirely to bar the valley, so suddenly,
and in so short a curve, did it wind round their western
shoulder. To the left hand, the view was closed by a thick
belt of second growth, through which the sandy road and
glittering stream wandered away together on their mazy
path, and over which the summits of yet loftier and more
rugged steeps towered heavenward.

Over this valley they had for some time gazed in silence,
till now the broad sun sank behind the mountains, and the
shrill whistle of the quail, which had been momently
audible during the whole afternoon, ceased suddenly ; four
or five night-hawks might be seen wheeling high in pur-
suit of their insect prey through the thin atmosphere,
and the sharp chirrup of a solitary katydid, the last of its
summer tribe, was the only sound that interrupted the
faint rush of the rapid stream, which came more clearly on
the ear now that the louder noises of busy babbling day-
light had yielded to the stillness of approaching night.
Before long a bright gleam shot through the tufted out-
line of a dark wooded hill, and shortly after, just when a
gray and misty shadow had settled down upon the half-
seen landscape, the broad full moon came soaring up above
the tree-tops, pouring her soft and silver radiance over the
lovely valley, and investing its rare beauties with some-
thing of romance — a sentiment which belongs not to the
gay, gaudy sunshine.

Just at this moment, while neither of the friends felt
much inclined to talk, the door opened suddenly, and
Timothy's black head was thrust in, with a querj' if "they
didn't need t' waax candles?"

"Not yet, Tim," answered Archer, "not yet for an hour
or so — but hold a minute — how have the horses fed ?"

"T' ould gray drayed off directly, and he's gane tull t'
loike bricks — but t' bay's no but sillyish — he keeps a break-
ing oot again for iver — and sae Ay'se give him a hot
maash enow !"

"That's right. I saw he wasn't quite up to the mark the
last ten miles or so. If he don't dry off now, give him a
cordial ball out of the tool-chest — one of the number 3 —
camphire and cardamums and ginger; a clove of garlic.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 101

and treacle quantum suff : hey, Frank, that will set him to
rights, I warrant it. Now have you dined yourself, or
supped, as the good people here insist on calling it ?"

"Weel Ay wot, have I, sur," responded Timothy; "an
hour agone and better."

"Exactly; then step out yourself into the kitchen, and
make us a good cup of our own coffee, strong and hot,
do you see? and when that's done, bring it in with the
candles; and, hark you, run up to the bed-room and bring
my netting neddles down, and the ball of silk twist, and
the front of tliat new game-bag, I began the other night.
If you were not as lazy as possible, friend Frank, you
would bring your fly-book out, when the light comes, and
tie some hackles."

"Perhaps I may, when the light comes," Forester an-
swered; "but I'm in no hurry for it; I like of all things
to look out, and watch the changes of the night over a
landscape even less beautiful than this. One half the pleas-
ure of field sports to me, is other than the mere excitement.
If there were nothing but the eagerness of the pursuit, and
the gratification of successful vanity, fond as I am of
shooting, I should, I believe, have long since wearied of
it ; but there are so many other things connected with it —
the wandering among the loveliest scenery — the full en-
joyment of the sweetest weather — the learning the innum-
erable and all-wondrous attributes and instincts of ani-
mated nature — all these are what make up to me the
rapture I derive from woodcraft ! Why, such a scene
as this — a scene which how few, save the vagrant sports-
man, or the countryman who but rarely appreciates the
picturesque, have ever witnessed — is enough, with the pure
and tranquil thoughts it calls up in the heart, to plead
a trumpet-tongued apology, for all the vanity, and useless-
ness, and cruelty, and what not, so constantly alleged
against our field sports."

"Oh! yes," cried Harry; "yes, indeed, Frank, I per-
fectly agree with you. But all that last is mere humbug —
humbug, too, of the lowest and most foolish order — I
never hear a man droning about the cruelty of field sports,
but I set him down, on the spot, either as a hypocrite or
a fool, and probably a glorious union of the two. When
man can exist without killing myriads of animals with
every breath of vital air he draws, with every draught

102 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

of water he imbibes, with every footstep he prints upon
the turf or gravel of his garden — when he abstains from
every sort of animal food — and, above all, when he abstains
from his great pursuit of torturing his fellow men — ^then
let him prate, if he will, of sportsmen's cruelty."

'Tor show me one trade, one profession, wherein one
man's success is not based upon another's failure; all
rivalry, all competition, triumph and rapture to the win-
ner, disgrace and anguish to the loser! And then these
fellows, fattened on widows' tears and orphans' misery,
preach you pure homilies about the cruelty of taking life.
But you are quite right about the combination of pleas-
ures— the excitement, too, of quick motion through the
fresh air — the sense of liberty amid wide plains, or tangled
woods, or on the wild hill tops — this, surely, to the re-
flective sportsman — and who can be a true sportsman, and
not reflective — is the great charm of his pursuit."

"And do you not think that this pleasure exists in a
higher degree here in America than in our own England ?"

"As how, Frank?— I don't take."

"Why, in the greater, I will not say beauty — for I don't
think there is greater natural beauty in the general land-
scape of the States — but novelty and wildness of the
scenery! Even the richest and most cultivated tracts of
America, that I have seen, except the Western part of
Niew York, which is unquestionably the ugliest, and dullest,
and most unpoetical region on earth, have a young un-
tamed freshness about them, which you do not find in
England.

"In the middle of the high-tilled and fertile cornfield
you come upon some sudden hollow, tangled with brake
and bush, which hedge in some small pool where fioat the
brilliant cups and smooth leaves of the water lily, and
whence, on your approach, up springs the blue-winged
teal or gorgeous wood-duck. Then the long sweeping
woodlands, embracing in themselves evei*y variety of
ground, deep marshy swamp, and fertile level thick-set
with giant timber, and sandy barrens with their scrubby
undergrowth, and difficult rocky steeps : and. above all, the
seeming and comparative solitude — the dinner carried
along- with you and eaten under the shady tree, beside the
bubbling basin of some spring — all this is vastly more ex-
citing, than walking through trim stubbles and rich turnip

t
t-

o
w
o

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 103

fields, and lunching on bread and cheese and homo-brewed,
in a snug farmhouse. In short, field sports here have a
richer range, are much more various, wilder — "

"Hold there, Frank; hold hard there; I cannot concede
the wilder, not the really wilder — seemingly they are
wilder; for, as you say, the scenery is wilder — and all the
game, with the exception of the English snipe, being
wood-haunters, you are led into rougher districts. But
oh ! no, no ! — the field sports are not really wilder — in the
Atlantic States at least — nor half so wild as those of
England !"

''I should like to hear you prove that, Archer," an-
swered Frank, "for I am constantly beset with the su-
periority of American field sports to tame English preserve
shooting !"

"Pooh! pooh! that is only by people who know nothing
about either; by people who fancy that a preserve means
a park full of tame birds, instead of a range, perhaps, of
many thousand acres, of the very wildest, barest moorland,
stocked with the wariest and shyest of the feathered race,
the red grouse. But what I mean to say, is this, that every
English game bird — to use an American phrase — is warier
and wilder than its compeer in the United States. Who,
for instance, ever saw in England, Ireland, or Scotland,
eighteen or twenty snipe or wood-cock, lying within a
space of twelve yards square, two or three dogs pointing
in the midst of them, and the birds rising one by one, the
gunshots rattling over them, till ten or twelve are on the
ground before there is time to bag one.

"English partridge will, I grant, do this sometimes, on
very warm days in September; but let a man go out with
his heavy gun and steady dog late in December, or the
month preceding it. let him see thirty or more covies —
as on good ground he may — let him see every covey rise
at a hundred yards, and fly a mile; let him be proud and
glad to bag his three or four brace; and then tell me that
there is any sport in these Atlantic States so wild as
English winter field-shooting.

"Of grouse shooting on the bare hills, which, by the
way, are wilder, more solitary far, and more aloof from
the abodes of men, than any thing between Boston and
the Green Bay, I do not of course speak ; as it confessedly
is the most wild and diflficult kind of shooting.

104 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"Still less of deer stalking — for Scrope's book has been
read largely even here; and no man, how prejudiced so-
ever, can compare with the standing at a deer-path all
day long waiting till a great timid beast is driven up
within ten yards of your muzzle, with that extraordinary
sport on bald and barren mountains, where nothing but
vast and muscular exertion, the eye of the eagle, and the
cunning of the serpent, can bring you within range of
the wild cattle of the hills.

"Battue shooting, I grant, is tame work; but partridge
shooting, after the middle of October, is infinitely wilder,
requiring more exertion and more toil than quail shooting.
Even the pheasant — the tamest of our English game — is
infinitely bolder on the wing than the ruffed grouse, or
New York partridge; while about snipe and woodcock
there exists no comparison — since by my own observation,
confirmed by the opinion of old sportsmen, I am convinced
that nine-tenths of the snipe and cock bagged in th^
States, are killed between fifteen and twenty paces; while
I can safely say, I never saw a full snipe rise in England
within that average distance. Quail ev&\, the hardest
bird to kill, the swiftest and the boldest on the wing, are
very rarely killed further than twenty-five to thirty,
whereas you may shoot from daylight to sunset in Eng-
land, after October, and not pick up a single partridge
within the farthest, as a minimum distance."

"Well ! that's all true, I grant," said Forester, "jet even
you allow that it is harder to kill game here than at home ;
and if I do not err, I have heard you admit that the best
shot in all England could be beat easily by the crack shots
on this side; how does all this agree!"

"Why very easily, I think," Harry replied, "though to
the last remark, I added in his first season here; Now
that American field sports are wilder in one sense, I grant
readily; with the exception of snipe-shooting here, and
grouse-shooting in Scotland, the former being tamer, in
all senses, than any English — the latter wilder in all
senses than any American — fieldsport.

"American sporting, however, is certainly wilder, in
so much as it is pursued on much wilder ground; in so
much as we have a greater variety of game — and in so
much as we have many more snap shots, and fewer fair
dead points.

WARWICK WOODLANUS. 105

"Harder it is, I graut; for it is all, with scarcely an
exception, followed iu very thick and heav-y covert — covert
to which the thickest woods I ever saw in England are
but as open ground. Moreover, the woods are so very
large that the gun must be close up with the dog; and
consequently the shots must, half of them, be fired in
attitudes most awkward, and in ground which would, I
think, at home, be generally styled impracticable; thirdly,
all the summer shooting here is made with the leaf on —
with these thick tangled matted swamps clad in the
thickest foliage.

"Your dogs must beat within twenty yards at farthest,
and when they stand you are aware of the fact rather
by ceasing to hear their motion, than by seeing them at
point; I am satisfied that of six pointed shots in summer
shooting, three at the least must be treated as snap shots !
Many birds must be shot at — and many are killed — which
are never seen at all, till they are bagged ; and many men
here will kill three out of four summer woodcock, day in
and day out, where an English sportsman, however crack
a shot he might be, would give the thing up in despair in
half an hour.

"Practice, however, soon brings this all to rights. The
first season I shot here — I was a very fair, indeed a good,
young shot, when I came out hither — not at all crack,
but decidedly better than the common run ! — the first day
I shot was on 4th of July, 1832, the place Seer's swamp,
the open end of it; the witness old Tom Draw — and there
I missed, in what we now call, open covert, fourteen birds
running; and left the place in despair — I could not, al-
though I missed at home by shooting too quick — I could
not, for the life of me, shoot quick enough. Even you,
Frank, shoot three times as well as you did, when you
began here; yet you began in autumn, which is decidedly
a great advantage, and came on by degrees, so that the
following summer you were not so much nonplussed,
though I remember the first dav or two, you bitched it
badly."

"Well, I believe I must knock under, Harry," Forester
answered ; "and here comes Timothy with the coffee, and
so we will to bed, that taken, though I do want to argufy
with you, on some of your other notions about dogs, scent,

106 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

and so forth. But do you think the Commodore will
join us here to-morrow?"

"No! I don't think so," Harry said, "I know it! Did
not he arrive in New York last first of July, from a
yachting tour at four oclock in the afternoon; receive
my note saying that I was off to Tom's that morning; and
start by the Highlander at five that evening? Did he
not get a team at Whited's and travel all night through,
and find me just sitting down to breakfast, and change
his toggery, and out, and walk all day — like a trump as
he is? And did not we, by the same token, bag — besides
twenty-five more killed that we could not find — one hun-
dred and fifteen cock between ten o'clock and sunset;
while you, you false deceiver, were kicking up your heels
in Buffalo? Is not all this a true bill, and have you now
the impudence to ask me whether / think the Commodore
will come? I only wish I was as sure of a day's sport
to-morrow, as I am of his being to the fore at luncheon
time!"

"At luncheon time, hey ? I did not know that you looked
for him so early ! Will he be in time, then, for the after-
noon's shooting?"

"Why, certainly he will," returned Archer. "The wind
has been fair up the river all day long, though it has
been but light ; and the lanthe will run up before it like a
race-horse. I should not be much surprised if he were
here to breakfast."

"And that we may be up in time for him, if perchance
he should, let us to bed forthwith," said Frank with a
heavy yawn.

"I am content," answered Harry, finishing his cup of
coffee, and flinging the stump of his cheroot into the fire.
"Goodnight! Timothy will call you in the morning."

"Goodnight, old feUow."

And the friends parted merrily, in prospect of a pleas-
ant day^s sport on the morrow.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 107

THE MORNING'S SPORT.

It was not yet broad daylight when Harry Archer, who
had, as was usual with him on his sporting tour, arisen
with the lark, was sitting in the little parlor I have before
described, close to the chimney corner, where a bright
lively fire was already burning, and spreading a warm
cheerful glow through the apartment.

The large round table, drawn up close to the hearth,
was covered with a clean though coarse white cloth, and
laid for breakfast, with two cups and saucers, flanked by
as many plates and egg-cups, although as yet no further
preparations for the morning meal, except the presence
of a huge home-made loaf and a large roll of rich golden-
hued butter, had been made by the neat-handed Phillis of
the country inn. Two candles were lighted, for though
the day had broken, the sun was not yet high enough to
cast his rays into that deep and rock-walled valley, and
by their light Archer was busy with the game-bag, the
front of which he had finished netting on the previous
night.

Frank Forester had not as yet made his appearance;
and still, while the gigantic copper kettle bubbled and
et-eamed away upon the hearth, discoursing eloquent
music, and servant after servant bustled in, one with a
cold quail-pie, another with a quart jug of cream, and
fresh eggs ready to be boiled by the fastidious epicures
in person, he steadily worked on, housewife and saddler's
silk, and wax and scissors ready to his hand ; and when at
last the door flew open, and the delinquent comrade en-
tered, he flung his finished job upon the chair, and gath-
ered up his implements, with

"Now, Frank, let's lose no time, but get our breakfasts.
Halloa! Tim, bring the rockingham and the tea-chest; do
you hear?"

"Well, Harry, so you've done the game-bag," exclaimed
the other, as he lifted it up and eyed it somewhat super-
ciliously— "Well, it is a good one certainly; but you are
the queerest fellow I ever met, to give yourself unneces-
sary trouble. Here you have been three days about this
bag, hard all; and when it's done, it is not half as good
a one as you can buy at Cooper's for a dollar, with all

108 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

this new-fangled machinery of loops and buttons, and I
don't know what."

"And you, Master Frank," retorted Harry, nothing
daunted, "to be a good shot and a good sportsman — which,
with some few exceptions, I must confess you are — are the
most culpably and wilfully careless about your appoint-
ments I ever met. I don't call a man half a sportsman,
who has not every thing he wants at hand for an emerg-
ency, at half a minute's notice. Now it so happens that
you cannot get, in New York at all, anything like a
descent game-bag — a little fancy-worked French or Ger-
man jigmaree machine you can get anywhere, I grant,
that will do well enough for a fellow to carry on his
shoulders, who goes out robin- gunning, but nothing for
your man to carry, wherein to keep your birds cool, fresh,
and unmutilated. Now, these loops and buttons, at which
you laugh, will make the difference of a week at least in,
the bird's keeping, if every hour or so you empty your
pockets — wherein I take it for granted you put your birds
as fast as you bag them — smooth down their plumage
gently, stretch their legs out, and hang them by the heads,
running the button down close to the neck of each. In
this way this bag, which is, as you see, half a yard long,
by a quarter and half a quarter deep, made double, one
bag of fustian, with a net front, which makes two pockets
— will carry fifty-one quail or woodcock, no one of them
pressing upon, or interfering with, another, and it would
carry sixty-eight if I had put another row of loops in the
inner bag; which I did not, that I might have the bottom
vacant to carry a few spare articles, such as a bag of
Westley Eichards' caps, and a couple of dozen of Ely's
cartridges."

"Oh! that's all very well," said Frank, "but who the
deuce can be at the bore of it?"

"Why be at the bore of shooting at all, for that matter ?"
replied Harry — "I, for one, think if a thing is worth
doing at all, it is worth doing well-^and I can't bear to
kill a hundred or a hundred and fifty birds, as our party
almost always do out here, and then be obliged to throw
them away, just for want of a little care. Why, I was
shooting summer cock one July day two years ago — there
had been heavy rain in the early morning, and the grass

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 109

and bushes were very wet — Jem Blake was with me, and
we had great sport, and he laughed at me like the deuce
for taking my birds out of my pocket at the end of every
hour's sport, and making Timothy smooth them down
carefully, and bag them all after my fashion. Egad I
had the laugh though, when we got home at night!"

"How so," asked Frank, "in what way had you the
laugh?"

"Simply in this — a good many of the birds were very
hard shot, as is always the case in summer shooting, and
all of them got more or less wet, as did the pockets of
Jem's shooting jacket, wherein he persisted in carrying
his birds all day — the end was, that when we got home
at night, it having been a close, hot, steamy day, he had
not one bird which was not more or less tainted* — and,
as you kuow of course, when taint has once begun, noth-
ing can check it."

"Ay ! ay ! well that indeed's a reason ; if you can't buy
such a bag, especially!"

"Well, you cannot then, I can tell you ! and I'm glad
you're convinced for once; and here comes breakfast — so
now let us to work, that we may get on our ground as
early as may be. For quail you cannot be too early ; for if
you don't find them while they are rambling on their
feeding ground, it is a great chance if you find them at
all."

"But, after all, you can only use up one or two bevies
or so; and, that done, you must hunt for them in the
basking time of day, after all's done and said," replied
Frank, who seemed to have got up somewhat paradoxically
given that morning.

"Not at all, Frank, not at all," answered Harry — "that
is if you know your ground ; and know it to be well
stocked; and have a good marker with you."

"Oh ! this is something new of yours — some strange
device fantastical — let's have it, pray."

"Certainly you shall; you shall have it now in precept,
and in an hour or two in practice. You see those stubbles
on the hill — in those seven or eight fields there are, or at
least should be, some five bevies ; there is good covert,

♦This is a fact — thirty birds were thrown away at night, which
had been killed that same day.

110 WARWICK W(X)DLANDS.

good easy covert all about, and we can mark our birds down
easily; now, when I find one bevy, I shall get as many
barrels into it as I can, mark it down as correctly as
possible, and then go and look for another."

"What! and not follow it up? Now, Harry, that's
mere stuff; wait till the scent's gone cold, and till the
dogs can't find them? 'Gad, that's clever, any way!"

"Exactly the reverse, friend Frank; exactly the reverse.
If you follow up a bevy, of quail mark you, on the instant,
it's ten to one almost that you don't spring them. If, on
the contrary, you wait for half an hour, you are sure of
them. How it is, I cannot precisely tell you. I have
sometimes thought that quail have the power of holding
in their scent, whether purposely or naturally — from the
effect of fear perhaps contracting the pores, and hindering
the escape of the effluvia — I know not, but I am far from
being convinced even now that it is not so. A very good
sportsman, and true friend of mine, insists upon it that
birds give out no scent except from the feet, and that,
consequently, if they squat without running they cannot
be found. I do not, however, believe the theory, and hold
it to be disproved by the fact that dead birds do give out
scent. I have generally observed that there is no difficulty
in retrieving dead quail, but that, wounded, they are con-
stantly lost. But, be that as it may, the birds pitch down,
each into the best bit of covert he can find, and squat
there like so many stones, leaving no trail or taint upon

the grass or bushes, and being of course proportionally
hard to find; in half an hour they will begin, if not dis-
turbed, to call and travel, and you can hunt them up,
without the slightest trouble. If you have a very large
tract of country to beat, and birds are very scarce, of
course it would not answer to pass on ; nor ever, even if
they are plentiful, in wild or windy weather, or in large
open woods; but where you have a fair ground, lots of
birds, and fine weather. I would always beat on in a
circuit, for the reason I have given yovi. In the first
place, every bevy you flush flies from its feeding to its
basking ground, so that you get over all the first early,
and knoiv where to look afterward ; instead of killing off
one bevy, and then going blundering on, at blind guess
work, and finding nothing. In the second place, you have

WARWICK WOODLANDS. Ill

a chance of driving two or three bevies into one brake,
and of getting sport proportionate; and in the third place,
as I have told you, you are much surer of finding marked
birds after an hour's lapse, than on the moment."

''I will do you the justice to say," Forester replied,
"that you always make a tolerably good fight in support
of your opinions ; and so you have done now, but I want
to hear something more about this matter of holding
scent — facts! facts! and let me judge for myself."

"Well, Frank, give me a bit more of that pie in the
meantime, and I will tell you the strongest ease in point
I ever witnessed. I was shooting near Stamford, in
Connecticut, three years ago, with C K , and an-
other friend ; we had three as good dogs out, as ever had
a trigger drawn over them. My little imported yellow
and white setter, Chase, after which this old rascal is
called — which Mike Sandford considered the best-nosed
dog he had ever broken — a capital young pointer dog of
K 's, which has since turned out, as I hear, superla-
tive, and P 's old and stanch setter Count. It was the

middle of a fine autumn day, and the scenting was very
uncommonly good. One of our beaters flushed a bevy of
quail very wide of us, and they came over our heads down
a steep hillside, and all lighted in a small circular hollow,
without a bit of underbrush or even grass, full of tall
thrifty oak trees, of perhaps .twenty-five years' growth.
They were not much out of gun-shot, and we all three
distinctly saw them light; and I observed them flap and
fold their wings as they settled. We walked straight to
the spot, and beat it five or six times over, not one of our
dogs ever drawing, and not one bird rising. We could
not make it out; my friends thought they had treed, and
laughed at me when I expressed my belief that they were
still before us, under our very noses. The ground was
covered only by a deep bed of sere decaying oak leaves.
Well, we went on, and beat all round the neighborhood
within a quarter of a mile, and did not find a bird, when
lo ! at the end of perhaps half an hour, we heard them
calling — followed the cry back to that very hollow: the
instant we entered it, all the three dogs made game, draw-
ing upon three several birds, roaded them up, and pointed
steady, and we had half an hour's good sport, and we

112 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

were all convinced that the birds had been there all the
time. I have seen many instances of the same kind, and
more particularly with wing-tipped birds, but none I think
so tangible as this!"

"Well, I am not a convert, Harry; but, as the Chancel-
lor said, I doubt."

"And that I consider not a little, from such a positive
wretch as you are; but come, we have done breakfast, and
it's broad daylight. Come, Timothy, on with the bag and
belts; he breakfasted before we had got up, and gave the
dogs a bite."

"Which dogs do you take, Harry ; and do you use cart-
ridge ?"

"Oh! the setters for the morning; they are the only
fellows for the stubble; we should be all day with the
cockers; even setters, as we must break them here for
wood shooting, have not enough of speed or dash for the
open. Cartridges? yes! I shall use a loose charge in my
right, and a blue cartridge in my left ; later in the season
I use a blue in my right and a red in my left. It just
makes the difference between killing with both, or with
one barrel. The blue kills all of twenty, and the red all
of thirty-five yards further than loose shot; and they kill
clean !"

"Yet many good sportsmen dislike them," Frank re-
plied ; "they say they ball !"

"They do not now, if you load with them properly;
formerly they would do so at times, but that defect is now
rectified — with the blue and red cartridges at least — the
green, which are only fit for wild-fowl, or deer-shooting,
will do so sometimes, but very rarely ; and they will ex-
ecute surprisingly. For a bad or uncertain rifle-shot, the
green cartridge, with SG shot is the thing — twelve good-
sized slugs, propelled with force enough to go through an
inch plank, at eighty yards, within a compass of three
feet — but no wad must be used, either upon the cartridge
or between that and the powder ; the small end must be
inserted downward, and the cartridge must be chosen so
that the wad at the top shall fit the gun, the case being
two sizes less than the calibre. With these directions no
man need make a mistake; and, if he can cover a bird
fairly, and is cool enough not to fire within twenty yards,

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 113

he will never complain of cartridges, after a single trial.
Remember, too, that vice versa to the rule of a loose
charge, the heavier yon load with powder, the closer will
your cartridge carry. The men who do not like cartridges
are — you may rely upon it — of the class which prefers
scattering guns. I always use them, ercept in July shoot-
ing, and I shall even put a few red in my pockets, in case
the wind should get up in the afternoon. Besides which,
I always take along two buckshot cartridges, in case of
happening , as Timothy would say, on some big varmint.
I have four pockets in my shooting waistcoat, each
stitched off into four compartments — each of which holds,
erect, one cartridge — you cannot carry them loose in your
pocket, as they are very apt to break. Another advantage
of this is, that in no way can you carry shot with so little
inconvenience, as to weight; besides which, you load one
third quicker, and your gun never leads!"

"Well ! I believe I will take some to-day — but don't you
wait for the Commodore?"

"N'o! He drives up, as I told you, from Nyack, where
he lands from his .yacht, and will be here at twelve o'clock
to luncheon ; if he had been coming for the morning
shooting, he would have been here ere this. By that time
we shall have bagged twenty-five or thirty quail, and a
ruffed grouse or two ; besides driving two or three bevies
down into the meadows and the alder bushes by the
stream, which are quite full of woodcock. After lunch-
eon, with the Commodore's aid we will pick up these
stragglers, and all the timber-doodles!"

In another moment the setters were unchained, and
came careering, at the top of their speed, into the break-
fast room, where Harry stood before the fire, loading his
double gun, while Timothy was buttoning on his left
leggin. Frank, meanwhile, had taken up his gun, and
quietly sneaked out of the door, two flat irregular reports
explaining, half a moment after, the purport of his ab-
sence.

"Well, nov\', Frank, that is" — expostulated Harry — "that
J.S just the most snobbish thing I ever saw yovi do; aint
you ashamed of yourself now, you genuine cockney!"

"Not a bit — my gun has not been used these three
months, and something might have got into the chamber!"

114 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"Something might not, if when you cleaned it last you
had laid a wad in the centre of a bit of greased rag three
inches square and rammed it about an inch down the
barrel, leaving the ends of the linen hanging out. And
by running your rod down you could have ascertained the
fact, without unnecessarily fouling your piece. A gun has
no right ever to miss fire now; and never does, if you use
Westley Richards' caps, and diamond gunpowder — putting
the caps on the last thing — which has the further ad-
vantage of being much the safer plan, and seeing that the
powder is up to the cones before you do so. If it is not
so, let your hammer down, and give a smart tap to the
underside of the breech, holding it uppermost, and you
will never need a picker; or at least almost never. Re-
member, too, that the best picker in the world is a strong
needle headed with sealing wax. And now that you have
finished loading, and I lectvaring, just jump over the fence
to your right; and that footpath will bring us to the
stepping-stones across the Ramapo. By Jove, but we shall
have a lovely morning."

He did so, and away they went, with the dogs following
steadily at the heel, crossed the small river dry-shod,
climbed up the wooded bank by dint of hand and foot,
and reached the broad brown com stubble. Harry, how-
ever, did not wave his dogs to the right-hand and left, but
calling them in, quietly plodded along the headland, and
climbed another fence, and crossed a buckwheat stubble,
still without beating or disturbing any ground, and then
another field full of long bents and ragwort, an old desert-
ed pasture, and Frank began to grumble, but just then
a pair of bars gave access to a wide fifty acre lot, which
had been wheat, the stubble standing still knee deep, and
yielding a rare covert.

"Now we are at the far end of our beat, and we have
got the wind too in the dogs' noses. Master Frank — and
so hold up. good lads," said Harry. And off the setters
shot like lightning, crossing and quartering their ground
superbly.

"There! there! well done, old Chase — a dead stiff point
already, and Shot backing him as steady as a rail. Step
up, Frank, step up quietly, and let us keep the hill of
them."

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 115

They came up close, quite close to the stanch dog, and
then, but not till then, he feathered and drew on, and
Shot came crawling up till his nose was but a few inches
in the rear of Chase's whose point he never thought of
taking from him. Now they are both upon the gam«.
See how they frown and slaver, the birds are close below
their noses.

Whirr — r — r! "There they go — a glorious bevy!" ex-
claimed Harry, as he cocked his right barrel and cut down
the old cock bird, which had risen rather to his right
hand, with his loose charge — "blaze away, Frank!" Bang
— bang! — and two more birds came fluttering down, ana
then he pitched his gun up to his eye again, and sent the
cartridge after the now distant bevy, and to Frank's ad-
miration a fourth bird was keeled over most beautifully,
and clean killed, while crossing to the right, at forty-six
yards, as they paced it afterward.

"Now mark! mark, Timothy — mark, Frank!" And
shading their eyes from the level sunbeams, the three
stood gazing steadily after the rapid bevy. They cross the
pasture, skim very low over the brush fence of the corn-
field— they disappear behind it — they are down! no no!
not yet — they are just skirting the summit of the topped
maize stalks — now they are down indeed, just by that old
ruined hovel, where the cat-briers and sumach have over-
spread its cellar and foundation with thick underwood.
And all the while the sturdy dogs are crouching at their
feet unmoving.

"Will you not follow those. Harry?" Forester inquired —
"there are at least sixteen of them !"

"Not I." said Archer, " not I, indeed, till I have beat
this field — I expect to put up another bevy among those
little crags there in the corner, where the red cedars grow
— and if we do, they will strike down the fence of the
buckwheat stubble — that stubble we must make good, and
the rye beside it, and drive, if possible, all that we find
before u-s to the cornfield. Don't be impatient, and you'll
see in time that I am in the right."

No more words were now wasted; the four birds were
bagged without trouble, and the sportsmen being in the
open, were handed over on the spot to Tim; who stroked
their freckled breasts, and beautifully mottled wing-

116 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

coverts and backs, with a caressing touch, as though he
loved them; and finally, in true Jack Ketch style, tucked
them up severally by the neck. Archer was not mistaken
in his prognostics — another bevy had run into the dwarf
cedars f^om the stubble at the sound of the firing, and
were roaded up in right good style, first one dog, and
then the other, leading; but without any jealousy or
haste.

They had, however, run so far, that they had got wild,
and as there was no bottom covert on the crags, had
traversed them quite over to the open, on the far side —
and, just as Ai'cher was in the act of warning Forester
to hiirry softly round and head them, they flushed at
thirty yards, and had flown some five more before they
were in sight, the feathery evergreens for a while cutting
off the view — the dogs stood dead at the sound of their
wings. Then, as they came in sight, Harry discharged
both barrels very quickly — the loose shot first, which
evidently took effect, for one bird cowered and seemed
about to fall, but gathered wing again, and went on for
the present — the cartridge which went next, although the
bevy had flown ten yards further, did its work clean, and
stopped its bird. Frank fired but once, and killed, using
his cartridge first, and thinking it in vain to fire the
loose shot. The remaining birds skimmed down the hill,
and lighted in the thick bushy hedge-row, as Archer had
foreseen.

"So much for Ely!" exclaimed Harry — "had we both
used two of them, we should have bagged four then. As
it is, I have killed one which we shall not get; a thing
that I most particularly hate."

"That bird will rise again," said Frank.

"Never!" replied the other, "he has one, if not two,
shot in him, well forward — if I am not much mistaken,
before the wing — he is dead now ! but let us on. These we
must follow, for they are on our line; you keep this side
the fence, and I will cross it with the dogs — come with
me, Timothy."

In a few minutes more there was a dead point at the
hedgerow.

"Look to, Frank!"

"Ay! ay! Poke them out, Tim;" then followed sundry

W.'VRWICK WOODLANDS. 117

bumps and threshings of the briers, and out with a noisy
flutter burst two birds under Forester's nose. Bang ! bang !

"The first shot too quick, altogether," muttered Archer;
"Ay, he has missed one; mark it, Tinij — there he goes
down in the corn, by jingo — you've got that bird, Frank!
That's well! Hold up, Shot" — another point within five
yards. "Look out again, Frank."

But this time vainly did Tim poke, and thrash and
peer into the bushes — yet still Shot stood, stiif as a marble
statue — then Chase drew up and snuffed about, and
pushed his head and fore-legs into the matted briers, and
thereupon a muzzling noise ensued, and forthwith out he
came, mouthing a dead bird, warm still, and bleeding
from the neck and breast.

"Frank, he has got my bird — and shot, just as I told
you, through the neck and near the great wing joint —
good dog! good dog!"

"The devil!"

"Yes, the devil ! but look out man, here is yet one more
point;" and this time ten or twelve birds flushed upon
Archer's side; he slew, as usual, his brace, and as they
crossed, at long distance, Frank knocked down one more
— the rest flew to the corn-field.

In the middle of the buckwheat they flushed another,
and, in the rye, another bevy, both of which crossed the
stream, and settled down among the alders. They reached
the corn-field, and picked up their birds there, quite as
fast as Frank himself desired — three ruffed grouse they
had bagged, and four rabbits, in a small dingle full of
thorns, before they reached the corn; and just as the
tin liorns were sounding for noon and dinner from many
a neighboring farm, they bagged their thirty-fourth quail.
At the same moment, the rattle of a distant wagon on the
hard road, and a loud cheer replying to the last shot, an-
nounced the Commodore; who pulled up at the tavern
door just as they crossed the stepping-stones, having made
a right good morning's work, with a dead certainty of
better sport in the afternoon, since they had marked two
untouched bevies, thirty-five birds at least, beside some
ten or twelve more stragglers into the alder brakes, which
Harry knew to hold — moreover, thirty woodcock, as he
said, at the fewest.

118 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"Well! Harry," exclaimed Frank, as he set down his
gun, and sat down to the table, "I must for once knock
under — your practice has borne out your precepts."

THE WOODCOCK.

Luncheon was soon discussed, a noble cold quail pie
and a spiced round of beef, which formed the most es-
sential parts thereof, displaying in their rapidly dimin-
ished bulk ocular evidence of the extent of sportsmen's
appetites; a single glass of shrub and water followed,
cheroots were lighted, and forth the comrades sallied, the
Commodore inquiring as they went what were the pros-
pects of success.

"You fellows," he concluded, "have, I suppose, swept the
ground completely."

"That you shall see directly," answered Archer; "I shall
make you no promises. But see how evidently Grouse
recollects those dogs of mine, though it is nearly a year
since they have met ; don't you think so, A ?"

"To be sure I do," replied the Commodore; "I saw it
the first moment you came up — had they been strangers
he would have tackled them upon the instant ; and instead
of that he began wagging his tail, and wriggling about,
and playing with them. Oh! depend upon it, dogs think,
and remember, and reflect far more than we imagine — "

"Oh! run back, Timothy — run back!" here Archer in-
terrupted him — "we don't want you this afternoon.
Harness the nags and pack the wagon, and put them to,
at five — we shall be at home by then, for we intend to be
at Tom's to-night. Now look out, Frank, those three last
quail we marked in from the hill dropped in the next
field, where the ragwort stands so thick; and five to one,
as there is a thin growth of brushwood all down this wall
side, they will have run down hither. Why, man alive!
you've got no copper caps on!"

"By George! no more I have — I took them off when I
laid down my gun in the house, and forgot to replace
them."

"And a very dangerous thing you did in taking them
off, permit me to assure you. Any one but a fool, or a

WARWICK WOODLANDS, 119

very young child, knows at once that a gun with caps on
is loaded. You leave yours on the table without caps, and
in comes some meddling chap or other, puts on one to try
the lock^, or to frighten liis sweetheart, or for some other
no less sapient purpose, and off it goes ! and if it kill no
one, it's God's mercy! Never do that again, Frank!"

Meanwhile they had arrived within ten yards of the low
rickety stone wall, skirted by a thin fringe of saplings, in
which Archer expected to find game — Grouse, never in
what might be called exact command, had disappeared
beyond it.

"Hold up, good dogs!" cried Harry, and as he spoke
away went Shot and Chase — the red dog, some three
yards ahead, jumped on the wall, and, in the act of bound-
ing over it, saw Grouse at point beyond. Rigid as stone
he stood upon that tottering ridge, one hind foot drawn
up in the act of pointing, for both the fore were occupied
in clinging to some trivial inequalities of the rough cop-
ing, his feathery flag erect, his black eye fixed, and his lip
slavering; for so hot was the scent that it reached his
exquisitely fashioned organs, though Grouse was many
feet advanced between him and the game. Shot backed
at the wall-foot, seeing the red dog only, and utterly un-
conscious that the pointer had made the game beyond.

"By Jove; but that is beautiful!" exclaimed the Com-
modore. "That is a perfect picture! the very perfection
of steadiness and breaking."

They crossed the wall, and poor Shot, in the rear, saw
them no more; his instinct strongly, aye! naturally,
tempted him to break in, but second nature, in the shape
of discipline, prevailed ; and, though he trembled with
excitement, he moved not an inch. Grouse was as firm as
iron, his nose within six inches of a bunch of wintergreen,
pointed directly downward, and his head cocked a little
on one side — they stepped up to him, and, still on the
wall-top, Chase held to his uneasy attitude.

"Now, then," said Harry, "look out, till I kick him up."

No sooner said than done — the toe of his thick shoot-
ing-boot crushed the slight evergreen, and out whirred,
with his white chaps and speckled breast conspicuous, an
old cock quail. He rose to Forester, but ere that worthy
had even cocked his gun — for he had now adopted Archer's

120 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

plan, and carried his piece always at half cock, till needed
— flew to the right across the Commodore; so Frank re-
leased his hammer and brought down his Manton, while

A deliberately covered, and handsomely cut down the

bird at five-and-twenty yards.

Grouse made a movement to run in, but came back
instantly when called.

"Just look back, if you please, one moment, before loadr
ing," said Harry, "for that down-charge is well worth
looking at."

And so indeed it was — for there, upon the wall-top,
where he had been balancing. Chase had contrived to lie
down at the gunshot — wagging his stern slightly to and
fro, with his white fore-paws hanging down, and his head
couched between them, his haunches propped up on the
coping stone, and his whole attitude apparently untenable
for half a minute.

"Now, load away for pity's sake, as quickly as you can;
that posture must be any thing but pleasant." -

This was soon done; inasmuch as the Commodore is not
exactly one to dally in such matters; and when his locks
ticked as he drew the hammers to half-cock, Chase quietly
dismounted from his perch, and Shot's head and fore-
paws appeared above the barrier; but not till Archer's
hand gave the expected signal did the stanch brutes move
on.

''Come, Shot, good dog — it is but fair you should have
some part of the fun ! Seek dead ! seek dead ! that's it,
sir! Toho! steady! Fetch him, good lad! Well done!"

In a few minutes' space, four or five more birds came
to bag — they had run, at the near report, up the wall side
among the bushes, and the dogs footed them along it, now
one and now another taking the lead successively, but
without any eagerness or raking — looking round constant-
ly, each to observe his comrades' or his master's move-
ments, and pointing slightly, but not steadily, at every
foot, till at the last all three, in different places, stood
almost simultaneously — all three dead points.

One bird jumped up to Frank, which he knocked over.
A double shot fell to the Commodore, who held the centre
of the line, and dropped both cleverly — the second, a long
shot, wing-tipped only. Harry flushed three and killed

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 121

two clean, both within thirty paces, and then covered the
third bird with his empty barrels — but, though no shot
could follow from that quarter, he was not to escape scot
free, for wheeling short to the left hand, and flying high,
he crossed the Commodore in easy distance, and afterward
gave Forester a chance.

"Try him, Frank," halloaed Archer — and "It's no use!"

cried A , almost together, just as he raised his gun,

and levelled it a good two feet before the quail.

But it was use, and Harry's practised eye had judged
the distance more correctly than the short sight of the
Commodore permitted — the bird quailed instantly as the
shot struck, but flew on notwithstanding, slanting down
wind, however, towards the ground, and falling on the
hill-side at a full hundred yards.

"We shall not get him," Forester exclaimed; "and I am
sorry for it, since it was a good shot."

"A right good shot," responded Harry, "and we shall
get him. He fell quite dead; I saw him bounce up, like a

ball, when he struck the hard ground. But A 's second

bird is only wing-tipped, and I don't think we shall get
him; for the ground where he fell is very tussocky and
full of grass, and if he creeps in, as they mostly will do,
into some hole in the bog-ground, it is ten to pne against
the best dog in America !"

And so it came to pass, for they did bag Forester's, and
all the other quail except the Commodore's, which, though
the dogs trailed him well, and worked like Trojans, they
could not for their lives make out.

After this little rally they went down to the alders by
the stream-side, and had enough to do, till it was growing
rapidly too dark to shoot — for the woodcock were very
plentiful — it was sweet ground, too, not for feeding only,
but for lying, and that, as Harry pointed out, is a great
thing in the autumn.

The grass was short and still rich under foot, although
it froze hard every night; but all along the brook's marge
there were many small oozy bubbling springlets, which it
required a stinging night to congeal; and round these the
ground was poached up by the cattle, and laid bare in
spots of deep, soft, black loam ; and the innumerable chalk-
ings told the experienced eye at half a glance, that, where

122 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

they laid up for the night soever, here was their feeding
ground, and here it had been through the autumn.

But this was not all, for at every ten or twenty paces
was a dense tuft of willow bushes, growing for the most
part upon the higher knolls where it was dry and sunny,
their roots heaped round with drift wood, from the decay
of which had shot up a dense tangled growth of cat-briers.
In these the birds were lying, all but some five or six
which had run out to feed, and were flushed, fat, and
large, and lazy, quite in the open meadow.

"They stay here later," Harry said, as they bagged the
last bird, which, be it observed, was the twenty-seventh,
"than any where I know. Here I have killed them when
there was ice thicker than a dollar on all the waters round
about, and when you might see a thin and smoke-like mist
boiling up from each springlet. Kill them all off to-day,
and you will find a dozen fresh birds here to-morrow, and
so on for a fortnight — they come down from the high
ground as it gets too cold for them to endure their high
and rarified atmosphere, and congregate hither!"

"And why not more in number at a time?" asked A .

"Ay! there we are in the dark — we do not know suffi-
cienty the habits of the bird to speak with certainty. I
do not think they are pugnacious, and yet you never find
more on a feeding ground than it will well accommodate
for many days, nay weeks, together. One might imagine
that their migrations would be made en masse, that all
the birds upon these neighboring hills crowd down to this
spot together, and feed here till it was exhausted, and then
on — but this is not so ! I know fifty small spots like this,
each a sure find in the summer for three or four broods,
say from eight to twelve birds. During the siynmer, when
you have killed the first lot, no more return — but the
moment tlie frost begins, there you will find them — never
exceeding the original eight or ten in niimber, but keep-
ing up continually to that mark — and whether you kill
none at all, or thirty birds a week, there you will always
find about that number, and in no case any more. Those
that are killed off are supplied, within two days at
farthest, by new comers; yet, so far as T can judge, the
original birds, if not killed, hold their own unmolested by
intruders. Whence the supplies come in — for they must

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 123

be near neighbors by the rapidity of their succession' —
and why they abstain from their favorite grounds in worse
locations, remains, and I fear we must remain, in the
dark. All the habits of the woodcock are, indeed very par-
tially and slightly understood. They arrive here, and
breed early in the spring — sometimes, indeed, before the
snow is off the hills — get their young off in June, and
with their young are most unmercifully, most unsports-
manly, thinned off, when they can hardly fly — such is the
error, as I think it, of the law — but I could not convince
my stanch friends, Philo, and J. Cypress, Jr., of the fact,
when they bestirred themselves in favor of the progeny
of their especial favorites, perdix virginiana and tetrao
wnbellus, and did defer the times for slaying them legiti-
mately to such a period, that it is in fact next to im-
possible to kill the latter bird at all. But vainly did I
plead, and a false advocate was Cypress after all, despite
his nominal friendship, for that unhappy Scolopax, who in
July at least deserves his nickname minor, or the infant.
For, setting joke apart, what a burning shame it is to
murder the poor little half-fledged younglings in July,
when they will scarcely weigh six ounces; when they will
drop again within ten paces of the dog that flushes, or the
gun that misses them ; and when the heat will not allow
you even to enjoy the consummation of their slaughter.
Look at these fellows now, with their gray foreheads, their
plump ruddy breasts , their strong, well-feathered pinions,
each one ten ounces at the least. Think how these jolly old
cocks tower away, with their shirll whistle, through the
tree-tops, and twist and dodge with an agility of wing
and thought-like speed, scarcely inferior to the snipe's or
swallow's, and fly a half mile if you miss them; and
laugh to scorn the efforts of any one to bag them, who is
not an out-and-outer! No chance shot, no stray pellet
speaks for these — it must be the charge, the whole charge,
and nothing but the charge, which will cut down the
grown bird of October! The law should have said wood-
cock thou shalt not kill until September; quail thou shalt
not kill till October, the twenty -fifth if you please; part-
ridge thou shalt kill in all places, and at all times, when

thou canst ! and that, as we know, Frank, and A , that

is not everywhere or often."

124 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"But, seriously," said the Commodore, "seriously, would
you indeed abolish summer shooting?"

"Most seriously! most solemnly I would!" Archer re-
sponded. "In the first place because, as I have said, it is
a perfect sin to shoot cock in July ; and secondly, because
no one would, I am convinced, shoot for his own pleasure
at that season, if it were not a question of now or never.
Between the intense heat, and the swarms of musquitoes,
and the unfitness of that season for the dogs, which can
rarely scent their game half the proper distance, and the
density of the leafy coverts; and lastly, the difficulty of
keeping the game fresh till you can use it, render July
shooting a toil, in my opinion, rather than a real pleas-
ure; although we are such hunting creatures, that rather
than not have our prey at all, we will pursue it in all
times, and through all inconveniences. Fancy, my dear
fellows, only fancy what superb shooting we should have
if not a bird were killed till they were all full grown, and
fit to kill; fancy bagging a hundred and twenty-five fall
woodcock in a single autumn day, as we did this very
year on a summer's day!"

"Oh! I agree with you completely," said Frank Forester,
"but I am afraid such a law will never be brought to bear
in this country — the very day on which cock shooting does
not really begin, but is supposed by nine tenths of the
people to begin — the fourth of July is against it.* More-
over, the amateur killers of game are so very few, in com-
parison with the amateur eaters thereof, that it is all but
impossible to enforce the laws at all upon this subject.
Woodcock even now are eaten in June — nay, I have heard,
and believe it to be true, that many hotels in New York
serve them up even in March and April; quail, this
autumn, have been sold openly in the markets, many days
previous to the expiration of close time. And, in fact,
sorry I am to say it, as far as eating-houses are in ques-
tion, the game laws are nearly a dead letter.

"In the country, also, I have universally found it to be
the case, that although the penalty of a breach may be
exacted from strangers, no farmer will differ with a neigh-

*In the State of New York close time for woodcock expires on the
last day of June — in New Jersey on the fourth of July — leaving the
bird lawful prey on the 1st and the 5th, respectively.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 125

bor, as they call it for the sake of a bird. Whether time,
and a greater diffusion of sporting propensities, and
sporting feelings, may alter this for the better or no, I
leave to sager and more politic pates than mine. And
now I say, Harry, you surely do not intend to trundle us
off to Tom Draw's to-night without a drink at starting?
I see Timothy has got the drag up to the door, and the
horses harnessed, and all ready for a start."

"Yes ! yes ! all that's true," answered Harry, "but take
my word for it, the liquor case is not put in yet. Well,
Timothy," he went on, as they reached the door, "that is
right. Have you got everything put up?"

"All but t' gam' bag and t' liquor ca-ase, sur," Tim re-
plied, touching his hat gnostically as he spoke; "Ay
reckoned please sur, 'at you'd maybe want to fill 't yan
oop, and empty t' oother!"

"Very well thought, indeed!" said Archer, winking to
Forester the while. "Let that boy stand a few minutes to
the horses' heads, and come into the house yourself and
pack the birds up, and fetch us some water."

"T' watter is upon t' table, sur, and t'cigars, and a
loight; but Ay'se be in wi' you directly. Coom hither,
lad, till Ay shew thee boo to guide 'em; thou munna tooch
t' bits for the loife o' thee, but joost stan' there anent
them — if they stir loike, joost speak to 'em — Ayse hear
thee !" and he left his charge and entered the small parlor,
where the three friends were now assembled, with a cheroot
apiece already lighted, and. three tall brimming rummers
on the table.

"Look sharp and put the birds up," said Harry, pitch-
ing, as he spoke, the fine fat fellows right and left out of
his wide game pockets, "and when that's done fill yourself
out a drink, and help us on with our great coats."

"What are you going to do with the guns?" inquired
the Commodore.

"To carry them uncased and loaded ; substituting in my
own two buckshot cartridges for loose shot," replied
Archer. "The Irish are playing the very devil through
this part of the country — we are close to the line of the
great Erie railroad — and they are murdering, and robbing,
and I know not what, for miles around. The last time I
was at old Tom's he told me that but ten days or a fort-

126 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

night previously a poor Irish woman, who lived in his
village, started to pay a visit to her mother by the self
same road we shall pass to-night; and was found the next
morning with her person brutally abused, kneeling against
a fence stone dead, strangled with her own cambric hand-
kerchief. He says, too, that not a week passes but some
of them are foynd dead in the meadows, or in the ditches,
killed in some lawless fray; and no one ever dreams of
taking any notice, or making any inquiry about the
matter !"

"It is possible? then keep the guns at hand by all
means!"

"Yes! but this time we will violate my rule about the
copper caps — there is no rule, you are aware, but what
has some exception — and the exception to this of mine is,
always take off your copper caps before getting into a
wagon; the jar will occasionally explode them, an upset

will undoubtedly. So uncap, Messrs. Forester and A ,

and put the bright little exploders into your pockets,
where they will be both safe and handy ! And now, birds
are in, drinks are in, dogs and guns are in, and now let
us be off!"

No more words were wasted; the landlord's bill was
paid, Frank Forester and Timothy got up behind, the
Commodore took the front seat, Harry sprang, reins in
hand, to the box, and off they bowled, with lamps and
cigars burning merrily, for it was now quite dark, along
the well-known mountain road, which Archer boasted he
could drive as safely in the most gloomy night of winter
as in a summer moon. And so it proved this time, for
though he piloted his horses with a cool head and delicate
finger through every sort of difficulty that a road can offer,
up long and toilsome hills without a rail between the
narrow track and the deep precipice, down sharp and
stony pitches, over loose clattering bridges, along wet
marshy levels, he never seemed in doubt or trouble for a
moment, but talked and laughed away, as if he were a
mere spectator.

After they had gone a few miles on their way — "you
broke off short, Archer," said the Commodore, "in the
middle of your dissertation on the natural history and
habits of the woodcock, turning a propos des hottes to the
cruelty of killing them in midsummer. In all which, by

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 12^

the way, I quite agree with you. But I don't want to
lose the rest of your lucubrations on this most interesting-
topic. What do you think becomes of the birds in August,
after the moult begins?"

"Verily, Commodore, that is a positive poser. Many
good sportsmen believe that they remain where they were
before; getting into the thickest and wettest brakes, re-
fusing to rise before the dog, and giving out little or no
scent !"

"Do you believe this?"

"N^o ; I believe there is a brief migration, but whither I
cannot tell you with any certainty. Some birds do stay,
as they assert; and that a few do stay, and do give out
enough scent to enable dogs to find them, is a proof to me
that all do not. A good sportsman can always find a few
birds even during the motdt, and I do not think that
birds killed at that time are at all worse eating than
others. But I am satisfied that the great bulk shift their
quarters, whither I have not yet fully ascertained; but I
believe to the small runnels and deep swales which are
found throughout all the mountain tracts of the middle
States ; and in these, as I believe, they remain dispersed
and scattered in such small parties that they are not
worth looking after, till the frost drives them down to
their old haunts. A gentleman, whom I can depend on,
told me once that he climbed Bull Hill one year late in
September — Bull Hill is one of the loftiest peaks in the
Highlands of the Hudson — merely to show the prospect
to a friend, and he found all the brushwood on the summit
full of fine autumn cock, not a bird having been seen for
weeks in the low woodlands at the base. They had no
guns with them at the time, and some days elapsed before
he could again spare a few hours to hunt them up; in the
meantime frost came, the birds returned to their accus-
tomed swamps and levels, and, when he did again scale
the rough mountain, not a bird rewarded his trouble.
This, if true, which I do not doubt, would go far to prove
my theory correct; but it is not easy to arrive at absolute
certainty, for if I am right, during that period birds are
to be found no where in abundance, and a man must be a
downright Audubon to be willing to go mountain-stalking
— the hardest walking in the world, by the way — purely

128 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

for the sake of learning the habits of friend Scolopax, with
no hope of getting a good bag after all."

"How late have you ever killed a cock previous to their
great southern flight?"

"Never myself beyond the fifteenth of November; but
Tom Draw assures me, and his asseveration was accidently
corroborated by a man who walked along with him, that
he killed thirty birds last year in Hell-hole, which both of
you fellows know, on the thirteenth of December. There
had been a very severe frost indeed, and the ice on that
very morning was quite thick, and the mud frozen hard
enough to bear in places. But the day was warm, bright,
and genial, and, as he says, it came into his head to see
'if cock was all gone,' and he went to what he knew to be
the latest ground, and found the very heaviest and finest
birds he ever saw !"

"Oh! that of course," said A , "if he found any!

Did you ever hear of any other bird so late?"

"Yes! later — Mike Sandford, I think, but some Jersey-
man or other — killed d. <iouple the day after Christmas
day, on a long southern slope covered with close dwarf
cedars, and watered by some tepid springs, not far from
Pine Brook ; and I have been told that the rabbit shooters,
who always go out in a party between Christmas and New
Year's day, almost invariably flush a bird or two there
in mid-winter. The same thing is told of a similar situa-
tion on the south-western slope of Staten Island; and I
believe truly in both instances. These, however, must, I
think, he looked upon not as cases of late emigration,
but as rare instances of the bird wintering here to the
northward; which I doubt not a few do annually. I
should like much to know if there is any State of the
Union where the cock is perennial. I do not see why he
should not be so in Maryland or Delaware, though I have
never heard it stated so to be. The great heat of the
extreme southern summer drives them north, as surely as
our northern winter sends them south; and the great
emigrations of the main flight are northward in February
and March, and southward in November, varying by a
few days only according to the variations of the seasons !"

"Well, I trust they have not emigrated hence yet — ha !
ha! ha!" laughed the Commodore, with his peculiar
hearty, deep-toned merriment.

o
o

D
O
O

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 1^9

"Not they! not they! I warrant them," said Archer;
"but that to-morrow must bring forth."

"Come, Harry," exclaimed Forester, after a little pause,
"spin us a shooting: yarn," to kill the time, till we get to
fat Tom's."

"A yarn! well, what shall it be?"

"I don't know; oh! yes! yes! I do. You once told me
something about a wolf-hunt, and then shut up your
mouth all at once, and would give me no satisfaction."

"A wolf-hunt?" cried the Commodore, "were you ever
at a wolf-hunt; and here in this country, Harry?"

"Indeed was I, and — "

"The story, then, the story; we must have it."

"Oh! as for the story, there is not much — "

"The story! the story!" shouted Frank. "You may as
well b^in at once, for we will have it."

"Oh ! very well. All is one to me, but you will be tired
enough of it before I have got through, so here goes for

A WOLF HUNT ON THE WARWICK HILLS/'

said Archer, and without more ado, spun his yarn as fol-
lows:

"There are few wilder regions within the compass of the
United States, much less in the vicinity of its most popu-
lous and cultivated districts, than that long line of rocky
wood-crowned heights which — at times rising to an
elevation and exhibiting a boldness of outline that justifies
the application to them of the term 'mountains,' while at
others they would be more appropriately designated as
hills or knolls — run all across the Eastern and the Mid-
land States, from the White Mountains westward to the
Alleghanies, between which mighty chains they form an
intermediate and continuous link.

"Through this stern barrier, all the great rivers of the
States, through which they run, have rent themselves a
passage, exhibiting in every instance the most sublime and
boldest scenery, while many of the minor, though still
noble streams, come forth sparkling and bright and cold
from the clear lakes and lonely springs embosomed in its
dark recesses.

"Possessing, for the most part, a width of eight or ten
miles, this chain of hills consists, at some points, of a

130 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

single ridge, rude, forest-clad and lonely — at others, of
two, three, or even four distinct and separate lines of
heights, with valleys more or less highly cultured, long
sheets of most translucent water, and wild mountain
streams dividing them.

With these hills — known as the Highlands — where the
gigantic Hudson has cloven, at some distant day, a de-
vious path for his eternal and resistless waters, and by a
hundred other names, the Warwick Hills, the Green-
woods, and yet farther west, the Blue Ridge and the
Kittatinny Mountains, as they trend southerly and west
across New York and New Jersey — with these hills I have
now to do.

"Not as the temples meet for the lonely muse, fit habi-
tations for the poet's rich imaginings! not as they are
most glorious in their natural scenery — whether the youth-
ful May is covering their rugged brows with the bright
tender verdure of the tasselled larch, and the yet brighter
green of maple, mountain ash and willow — or the full
flush of summer has clothed their forests with impervious
and shadowy foliage, while carpeting their sides with the
unnumbered blossoms of calmia, rhododendron and azalia !
— whether the gorgeous hues of autumn gleam like the
banners of ten thousand victor armies along their rugged
slopes, or the frozen winds of winter have roofed their
headlands with inviolate white snow ! Not as their bowels
teem with the wealth of mines which ages of man's avarice
may vainly labor to exhaust! but as they are the loved
abode of many a woodland denizen that has retreated, even
from more remote and seemingly far wilder fastnesses, to
these sequestered haunts. I love them, in that the graceful
hind conceals her timid fawn among the ferns that wave
on the lone banks of many a nameless rill, threading their
hiUs, untrodden save by the miner, or the unfrequent
huntsman's foot — in that the noble stag frays oftentimes
his antlers against their giant trees — in that the mighty
bear lies hushed in grim repose amid their tangled swamps
— in that their bushy dingles resound nightly to the long-
drawn howl of the gaunt famished wolf — in that the lynx
and wild-cat yet mark their prey from the pine branches
— in that the ruffed grouse drums, the woodcock bleats,
and the quail chirrups from every height or hollow — in

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 131

that, more strange to tell, the noblest game of trans-at-
lantie fowl, the glorious turkey — although, like angels'
visits, they be indeed but few and far between — yet spread
their bronzed tails to the sun, and swell and gobble in
their most secret wilds.

''I love those liills of Warwick — many a glorious day
have I passed in their green recesses; many a wild tale
have I heard of sylvan sport and forest warfare, and
many, too, of patriot partisanship in the old revolutionary
days — and the days that tried men's souls — while sitting
at my noontide meal by the secluded well-head, under the
canopy of some primeval oak, with implements of wood-
land sport, rifle or shot-gun by my side, and well-broke
setter or stanch hound recumbent at my feet. And one
of these tales will I now venture to record, though it will
sound but weak and feeble from my lips, if compared to
the rich, racy, quaint and humorous thing it was, when
flowing from the nature-gifted tongue of our old friend
Tom Draw."
"Hear! hear!" cried Frank, "the chap is eloquent!"
"It was the middle of the winter 1832 — which was,
as you will recollect, of most unusual severity — that 1
had gone up to Tom Draw's, with a view merely to quail
shooting, though I had taken up, as usual, my rifle, hop-
ing perhaps to get a chance shot at a deer. The very first
night I arrived, the old bar-room was full of farmers, talk-
ing all very eagerly about the ravages which had been
wrought among their flocks by a small pack of wolves,
five or six, as they said, in number, headed by an old
gaunt famished brute, which had for many years been
known through the whole region, by the loss of one hind
foot, which had been cut off in a steel trap.

"More than a hundred sheep had been destroyed during
the winter, and several calves beside; and what had stirred
especially the bile of the uood yeomen, was that, with
more than customary boldness, they had the previous
night made a descent into the precints of the village, and
carried off a fat wether of Tom Draw's.

"A slight fnll of snow had taken place the morning I
arrived, and, this suggesting to Tom's mind a possibility
of hunting up the felons, a party had gone out and
tracked them to a small swamp on the Bellevale Moun-

132 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

tain, wherein they had undoubtedly made their head-
quarters. Arrangements had been made on all sides —
forty or fifty stout and active men were mustered, well
armed, though variously, with muskets, ducking-guns and
rifles — some fifteen couple of strong hounds, of every
height and color, were collected — some twenty horses
saddled and bridled, and twice as many sleighs were
ready; with provisions, ammunition, liquor and blankets,
all prepared for a week's bivouac. The plan prescribed
was in the first place to surround the swamp, as silently
as possible, with all our forces, and then to force the pack
out so as to face our volley. This, should the method be
successful, would finish the whole hunt at once; but should
the three-legged savage succeed in making his escape, we
were to hunt him by relays, bivouacking upon the ground
wherever night should find us, and taking up the chase
again upon the following morning, until continual fatigue
should wear out the fierce brute. I had two horses with
me, and Tim Matlock; so I made up my mind at once,
got a light one-horse sleigh up in the village, rigged it
with all my bear-skins, good store of whiskey, eatables,
and so forth, saddled the gray with my best Somerset,
holsters and surcingle attached, and made one of the party
on the instant.

"Before daylight we started, a dozen mounted men
leading the way, with the intent to get quite round the
ridge, and cut ofF the retreat of these most wily beasts of
prey, before the coming of the rear-guard should alarm
them — and the remainder of the party, sleighing it merrily
along, with all the hounds attached to them. The dawn
was yet in its first gray dimness when we got into line
along the little ridge which bounds that small dense brake
on the northeastern side — upon the southern side the hill
rose almost inaccessibly in a succession of short limestone
ledges — westward the open woods, through which the
hounds and footmen were approaching, sloped down in a
long easy fall, into the deep secluded basin, filled with the
densest and most thorny coverts, and in the summer time
waist deep in water, and almost inaccessible, though now
floored with a sheet of solid ice, firm as the rocks around
it — due northward was an open field, dividing the wolf-
dingle from the mountain road by which we always travel.

W.VRWICK WOODLANDS. 133

"Our plot had been well laid, and thus far had succeed-
ed. I, with eleven horsemen, drawn up in easy pistol
shot one of the other, had taken our ground in perfect
silence; and, as we readily discovered, by the untrodden
surface of the snow, our enemies were as yet undisturbed.
My station was the extreme left of our line, as we faced
westward, close to the first ridge of the southern hill; and
there I sat in mute expectancy, my holsters thrown wide
open, my Kuchenreiiters loaded and cocked, and my good
ounce-ball rifle lying prepared within the hollow of my
arm.

"Within a short half hour I saw the second party, cap-
tained by our friend Garry, coming up one by one, and
forming silently and promptly upon the hill side — and
directly after I heard the crash and shout of our beaters,
as they plunged into the thicket at its westward end. So
far as I could perceive, all had gone well. Two sides, my
own eyes told me, were surrounded, and the continuous line
in which the shouts ran all along the farther end, would
have assured me, if assurance had been needful, for Tom
himself commanded in that quarter, that all was perfectly
secure on that side. A Jerseyman, a hunter of no small
repute, had been detached with a fourth band to guard
the open fields upon the north ; due time had been allotted
to him, and as we judged, he was upon his ground. Scarce
had the first yell echoed through the forest before the pat-
tering of many feet might be heard, mingled with the rust-
ling of the matted boughs throughout the covert — and as
the beaters came on, a whole host of rabbits, with no
less than seven foxes, two of them gray, came scampering
through our line in mortal terror; but on they went un-
harmed, for strict had been the orders that no shot should
be :fired, save at the lawful objects of the chase. Just at
this moment I saw Garry, who stood a hundred feet above
me on the hill, commanding the whole basin of the
swamp, bring up his rifle. This was enough for me — my
thumb was on the cock, the nail of my forefinger pressed
closely on the trigger-guard. He lowered it again, as
though he had lost sight of his object — raised it again
with great rapidity, and fired. My eye was on the muzzle
of his piece, and just as the bright stream of flame glanced
from it, distinctly visible in the dim of morning twilight,

134 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

before my ear had caught the sound of the report, a sharp
long snarl rose from the thicket, announcing that a wolf
was wounded. Eagerly, keenly did I listen; but there
came no further sound to tell me of his whereabout.

" 'I hit him,' shouted Garry, 'I hit him then, I swon ;
but I guess not so badly, but he can travel still. Look
out you, Archer, he's squatted in the thick there, and
won't stir 'till they get close a top on him.'

"While he was speaking yet, a loud and startling shout
arose from the open field, announcing to my ear upon the
instant that one or more had broken covert at some un-
guarded spot, as it was evident from the absence of any
firing. The leader of our squad was clearly of the same
opinion; for, motioning to us to spread our line a little
wider, he galloped off at a tremendous rate, spurning the
snowballs high into the air, accompanied by three of his
best men, to stop the gap which had been left through
the misapprehension of the Jersey man.

"This he accomplished; but not until the great wolf,
wilier than his comrades, had got off unharmed. He had
not moved five minutes, before a small dark bitch-wolf
broke away through our line, at the angle furthest from
my station, and drew a scattering volley from more than
half our men — too rapid and too random to be deadly —
though several of the balls struck close about her, I
thought she had got off scot free ;but Jem McDaniel — whom
you know — a cool, old steady hand, had held his fire, and
taking a long quiet aim, lodged his ball fairly in the
centre of her shoulders^over she went, and over, tearing
the snow with tooth and claw in her death agony; while
fancying, I suppose, that all our guns were emptied — for,
by my life, I think the crafty brutes can almost reason —
out popped two more! one between me and my right hand
man — the other, a large dog, dragging a wounded leg
behind him, under my horse's very feet. Bob made a
curious demi-volte, I do assure you, as the dark brindled
villain darted between his fore legs with an angry snarl ;
biit at a single word and slight admonition of the curb,
stood motionless as though he had been carved in marble.
Quickly I brought my rifle up, though steadily enough,
and — more, I fancy, by good luck than management — -
planted my bullet in the neck, just where the skull and

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 135

spine unite, so that he bounced three feet at least above
the frozen snow, and fell quite dead, within twelve paces
of the covert. The other wolf, which had crept out to
my right hand, was welcomed by the almost simultaneous
fire of three pieces, one of which only lodged its bullet,
a small one by the way — eighty or ninety only to the
pound — too light entirely to tell a story, in the brute's
loins.

"He gave a savage yell enough as the shot told; and,
for the first twenty or thirty yards, dragged his hind
quarters heavily; but, as he went on, he recovered, gather-
ing headway very rapidly over the little ridge, and through
the open woodland, toward a clear field on the mountain's
brow. Just as this passed, a dozen shots were fired, in a
quick running volley, from the thicket, just where an old
cart-way divides it; followed, after a moment's pause, by
one full, round report, which I knew instantly to be the
voice of old Tom's musket; nor did I err, for, while its
echoes were yet vocal in the leafless forest, the owner's
jovial shout was heard —

" 'Wiped all your eyes, boys ! all of them, by the Etarn-
al — Who-whoop for our side! — and I'll bet horns for all
on us, old leather-breeches has killed his'n.'

"This passed so rapidly — in fact it was all nearly simul-
taneous— that the fourth wolf was yet in sight, when the
last shot was fired. We all knew well enough that the
main object of our chase had for the time escaped us! —
the game was all afoot! — three of them slain already; nor
was there any longer aught to be gained by sticking to our
stations. So, more for deviltry than from entertaining any
real hope of overtaking him, I chucked my rifle to the
nearest of the farmers, touched old Bob with the spur,
and went on a hard gallop after the wounded fugitive,
who was now plodding onward at the usual long loping
canter of his tribe. For about half a mile the wood was
open, and sloped gently upward, until it joined the open
country, where it was bounded by a high rugged fence,
made in the usual snake fashion, with a huge heavy top-
rail. This we soon reached; the wolf, which was more
hurt than I had fancied, beginning to lag grievously,
crept through it scarcely a hundred yards ahead of me,
and, by good luck, at a spot where the top rail had been

136 WARWICK WOODLAjJIDS.

partially dislodged, so that Bob swept over it, almost
without an effort, in his gallop; though it presented an
impenetrable rampart to some half dozen of the horsemen
who had followed. I was now in a cleared lot of some ten
acres, forming the summit of the hill, which, farther on,
sunk steeply into a dark ravine full of thick brushwood,
with a small verge of thinly growing coppice not more
than twenty yards in width, on tolerably level ground,
within the low stone-wall which parted it from the culti-
vated land. I felt that I was now upon my vantage
ground; and you may be sure, Frank, that I spared not
the spurs; but the wolf, conscious probably of the vicinity
of some place of safety, strained every nerve and ran, in
fact, as if he had been almost unwounded; so that he was
stiU twelve or fourteen paces from me when he jumped on
the wall.

"Once over this, I well knew he was safe; for I was
thoroughly acquainted with the ground, and was of course
aware that no horse could descend the banks of the pre-
cipitous ravine. In this predicament, I thought I might
as well take a chance at him with one of my good pistols,
though of course with faint hopes of touching him.
However, I pulled out the right hand nine-inch barrel,
took a quick sight, and let drive at him; and, much to
my delight, the sound was answered by the long snarling
howl, which I had that day heard too often to doubt any
more its meaning. Over he jumped, however, and the
wall covering him from my sight, I had no means of
judging how badly he was hurt; so on I went, and charged
the wall with a tight rein, and a steady pull; and lucky
for me was it, that I had a steady pull; for under the lee
of the wall there was a heap of rugged logs into which
Bob plunged gallantly, and, in spite of my hard hold on
him, floundered a moment, and went over. Had I been
going at top speed, a very nasty fall must have been the
immediate consequence — as it was, both of us rolled over ;
but with small violence, and on soft snow, so that no
harm was done.

"As I came off, however, I found myself in a most un-
pleasant neirfiborhood ; for my good friend the wolf, hurt
pretty badly by the last shot, had, as it seemed, ensconced
himself among the logs, whence Bob's assault and subse-

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 137

quent discomfiture had somewhat suddenly dislodged him ;
so that, as I rolled over on the snow, I found myself
within six feet of my friend, seemingly very doubtful
whether to fight or fly I But, by good luck, my bullet had
struck him on the hip-bone, and being of a rather large
calibre, had let his claret pretty freely loose, besides shat-
tering the bone, so that he was but in poor fighting trim ;
and I had time to get back to the gray — who stood snort-
ing and panting, up to his knees in snow and rubbish, but
without offering to stir — to draw my second pistol, and
to give Isegrin — as the Germans call him — the coup de
grace, before he could attain the friendly shelter of the
dingle, to which with all due speed he was retreating. By
this time all our comrades had assembled. Loud was the glee
— boisterous the applause, which fell especially to me, who
had performed with my own hand the glorious feat of
slaying two wolves in one morning; and deep the cups of
applejack, Scotch whiskey, and Jamaica spirits, which
flowed in rich libations, according to the tastes of the
compotators, over the slaughtered quarry.

"Breakfast was produced on the spot; cold salt pork,
onions, and hard biscuit forming the principal dishes,
washed down by nothing weaker than the pure ardent!
Not long, however, did fat Tom permit us to enjoy our
ease.

"'Come, boys,' he shouted, 'no lazin' here; no gorman-
dizin' — the worst part of our work's afore us; the old
lame devil is afoot, and five miles off by now. We must
get back, and lay the hounds on, right stret off — and well
if the scent an't cold now! He's tuk right off toward
Duckcedars' — for so Tom ever calls Truxedo Pond — a
lovely crescent-shaped lakelet deep in the bosom of the
Greenwoods — 'so off with you, Jem, down by the road as
hard as you can strick with ten of your boys in sleighs,
and half the hounds; and if you find his tracks acrost
the road, don't wait for us, but strick right arter him.
You, Garry, keep stret down the old road with ten dogs
and all the plunder — we'll meet at night, I reckon."

"No sooner said than done! the parties were sent off
with the relays. This was on Monday morning — Tom and
I, and some thirteen others, with eight couple of the best
dogs, stuck to his slot on foot. It was two hours at least,

138 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

30 long had he been gone, before a single hound spoke to
it, and I had begun well nigh to despair; but Tom's im-
mense sagacity, which seemed almost to know instinctively
the course of the wily savage, enabling us to cut off the
angles of his course, at last brought us up somewhat
nearer to him. At about noon, two or three of the hounds
opened, but doubtfully and faintly. His slot, however,
showed that they were right, and lustily we cheered them
on ! Tom, marvelling the while that we heard not the cry
of Jem's relay.

" 'For I'll be darned,' he said, 'if he hasn't crossed the
road long enough since; and that dumb nigger, Jem's not
had the sense to stick to him!'

"For once, however, the fat man was wrong; for, as it
appeared when we neared the road, the wolf had headed
back, scared doubtess by some injudicious noise of our
companions, and making a wide ring, had crossed three
miles below the spot where Jem was posted. This circuit
we were forced to make, as at first sight we fancied he
had headed altogether back, and it was four o'clock before
we got upon his scent, hot, fresh, and breast-high; run-
ning toward the road, that is, due eastward from the
covert whence he had bolted in the morning. Nor were
our friends inactive; for, guided by the clamors of our
pack, making the forest musical, they now held down the
road; and as, the felon crossed, caught a long view of
him as he limped over it, and laid the fresh hounds on.

"A brilliant rally followed — we calling off our wearied
dogs, and hasting to the lower road, where we found Garry
with the sleighs, and dashing off in our turn through all
sorts of by-paths and woodroads to head them once again !
This, with much labor, we effected; but the full winter-
moon had risen, and the innumerable stars were sparkling
in the frosty skies, when we flogged off the hounds —
kindled our night fires — prepared our evening meal, feast-
ed, and spread our blankets, and slept soimdly under no
warmer canopy than the blue firmament — secure that our
lame friend would lie up for the night at no great dis-
tance. With the first peep of dawn we were again afoot,
and, the snow still befriending us, we roused him from
a cedar-brake at- about nine o'clock, cut him off three
times with fresh dogs and men. the second day, and passed

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 139

the night, some sixteen miles from home, in the rude
hovel of a charcoal burner.

"Greater excitement I cannot imagine, than that wild,
independent chase! — sometimes on foot, cheering the
hounds through swamp and dingle, over rough cliffs and
ledges where foot of horse could avail nothing. Some-
times on horseback, galloping merrily through the more
open woodlands. Sometimes careering in the flying sleigh,
to the gay music of its bells, along the wild wood-paths!
Well did we fare, too — ay, sumptuously! — for our out-
skirters, though they reserved their rifles for the appro-
priate game, were not so sparing with the shot-gun; so
that, night after night, our chaldron reeked with the
mingled steam of rabbit, quail, and partridge, seethed up
d la Meg Merrilies, with fat pork, onions, and potatoes —
by the Lord Harry! Frank, a glorious and unmatched
consummee.

"To make, however, a long tale short — for every day's
work, although varied to the actors by thousands of min-
ute but unnarratable particulars, would appear but as a
repetition of the last, to the mere listener — to make a long
tale short, on the third day he doubled back, took us
directly over the same ground — and in the middle of the
day, on Saturday, was roused in view by the leading
hounds, from the same little swamp in which the five
had harbored during the early winter. No man was near
the hounds when he broke covert. But fat Tom, who had
been detached from the party to bring up provisions from
the village, was driving in his sleigh steadily along the
road, when the sharp chorus of the hounds aroused him.
A minute after, the lame scoundrel limped across the
turnpike, scant thirty yards before him. Alas! Tom had
but his double-barrel, one loaded with buck shot, the other
merely prepared for partridge — he blazed away, however,
but in vain! Out came ten couple on his track, hard
after him; and old Tom, cursing his bad luck, stood to
survey the chase across the open.

"Strange was the felon's fate! The first fence, after
he had crossed the road, was full six feet in height,
framed of huge split logs, piled so close together that,
save between the two topmost rails, a small dog even could
have found no passage. Full at this opening the wolf

140 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

dashed, as fresh, Tom said, as though he had not run a
yard; but as he struggled through it, his efforts shook the
top rails from the yokes, and the huge piece of timber
falling across his loins, pinned him completely ! At a
mile off I heard his howl myself, and the confused and
savage hubbub, as the hounds front and rear, assailed
him.

"Hampered although he was, he battled it out fiercely —
ay, heroically — as six of our best hounds maimed for life,
and one slain outright testified.

"Heavens ! how the fat man scrambled across the fence !
he reached the spot, and, far too much excited to reload
his piece and quietly blow out the fierce brute's brains, fell
to belaboring him about the head with his gun-stock,
shouting the while and yelling; so that the din of his
tongue, mixed with the snarls and long howls of the
mangled savage, and the fierce baying of the dogs, fairly
alarmed me, as I said before, at a mile's distance !

"As it chanced, Timothy was on the road close by, with
Peacock; I caught sight of him, mounted, and spurred
on fiercely to the rescue; but when I reached the hill's
brow, all was over. Tom, puffing and panting like a
grampus in shoal water, covered — garments and face and
hands — with lupine gore, had finished his huge enemy,
after he had destroyed his gun, with what he called a stick,
but what you and I, Frank, should term a fair-sized tree;
and with his foot upon the brindled monster's neck was
quaffing copious rapture from the neck of a quart bottle —
once full, but now well nigh exhausted — of his appropri-
ate and cherished beverage.* Thus fell the last wolf on
the Hills of Warwick!

"There, I have finished my yarn, and in good time,"
cried Harry, "for here we are at the bridge, and in five
minutes more we shall be at old Tom's door."

"A right good yarn!^' said Forester; " and right well
spun, upon my word."

"But is it a yarn?" asked A , "or is it intended to

be the truth?"

"Oh ! the truth," laughed Frank, "the truth, as much as

*The facts and incidents of the lame wolf's death are strictly
tnie. although they were not witnessed by the writer.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 141

Archer can tell the truth; embellished, you understand,
embellished !"

"The truth, strictly," answered Harry, quietly — "the
truth not embellished. When I tell personal adventures,
I am not in the habit of decorating them with falsehood."

"I had no idea," responded the Commodore, "that there
had been any wolves here so recently."

"There are wolves here now" said Archer, "though they
are scarce and wary. It was but last year that I rode
down over the back-bone of the mountain, on the Pompton
road, in the night-time, and that on the third of July, and
one fellow followed me along the road till I got quite
down into the cultivated country."

"The devil he did!"

"How did you know he was following you?" exclaimed
Frank and the Commodore, almost in a breath.

"Did you see him?"

"No I — but I heard him howl half a dozen times, and
each time nearer than before. When I got out of the
hills he was not six hundred yards behind me."

"Pleasant, that! Were you armed? What did you do?"

"It was not really so unpleasant, after all — for I knew
that he would not attack me at that season of the year.
I had my pistols in my holsters; and for the rest, I jogged
steadily along, taking care to keep my nag in good wind
for a spirit, if it should be needed. I knew that for three
or four miles I could outrun him, if it should come to the
worst, though in the end a wolf can run down the fastest
horse ; and, as every mile brought me nearer to the settle-
ment, I did not care much about it. Had it been winter,
when the brutes are hard pressed for food, and the deep
snows are against a horse's speed, it would be a very dif-
ferent thing. Hurrah! here we are! Hurrah! fat Tom!
ahoy! a-ho-oy!"

142 AVARWICK WOODLANDS.

THE SUPPER PARTY.

Blithe, loud and hearty was the welcome of fat Tom,
when by the clear view halloa with which Harry drove
up to the door at a spanking trot, the horses stopping
willingly at the high well-known stoop, he learned who
were these his nocturnal visitors. There was a slight
tinge of frostiness in the evening air, and a bright blazing
fire filled the whole bar-room with a cheerful merry light,
and cast a long stream of red lustre from the tall win-
dows, and half-open doorway, but in an instant all that
escaped from the last mentioned aperture was totally
obstructed, as if the door had been pushed to, by the huge
body of mine host.

"Why, darn it," he exclaimed, "if that beant Archer!
and a hull grist of boys he's brought along with him, too,
any how. How are you, Harry, who've you got along?
It's so etarnal thunderin' dark as I carnt see 'em no how !"

"Frank and the Commodore, that's all," Archer replied,
"and how are you, old Corporation?"

"Oh! oh! I'm most darned glad as you've brought

A ; you might have left that other critter to home,

though, jest as well — we doesn't want him blowin' oi;t his
hide here; lazin' about, and doin' nothin' day or night but
eat and grumble; and drink, and drink, as if he'd got a
meal-sack in his little guts. Why, Timothy, how be you ?"
he concluded, smiting him on the back a downright blow,
that would have almost felled an ox, as he was getting out
the baggage.

"Doant thee noo, Measter Draa," expostulated Tim, "be-
haave thyself, man, or Ay'se give thee soomat thou woant
loike, I'm thinking. Noo ! send oot yan o' t' nagers, joost
to stand till t' nags till Ay lift oot t' boxes !"

"A nigger, is it? darn their black skins! there was a
dozen here jest now, a blockin' up the fire-side, and
stinkin' so no white man could come nearst it, till I got
an axe-handle, half an hour or so since, and cleared out
the heap of them! Niggers! they'll be here all of them
torights, I warrant; where you sees Archer, there's never
no scarceness of dogs and niggers. But come, wall; in,
boys! walk in, anyhow — Jem'll be here to rights, and he's

WARWICK WOODIANDS. 143

worth two niggers any day, though he's black-fleshed, I
guess, if one was jest to skin the etarnal creatur."

Very few minutes passed before they were all drawn up
round the fire, Captain Keade and two or three more mak-
ing room for them, as they pulled up their chairs about
the glowing hearth — having hung up their coats and capes
against the wall.

"You'll be here best, boys," said Tom, "for a piece — the
parlor fire's not been lit yet this fall, and it is quite cold
nights now — but Brower'll kindle it up agin supper, for
you'll be wantin' to eat, all of you, I reckon, you're sich
darned everlastin' gormandizers."

"That most undoubtedly we shall," said Frank, "for it's
past eight now, and the deuce a mouthful have we put
into our heads since twelve."

"Barrin' the liquor, Frank! barrin' the liquor — now
don't lie! don't lie, boy, so ridic'lous — as if I'd known you
these six years, and then was a goin' to believe as you'd
not drinked since noon!"

"Why, you old hogshead, you ! who wants you to believe
anything of the kind — we had one drink at Tom's your
cousin's, when we started, but deuce the drop since."

"That's just the reason why you're so snarlish, then, I
reckon I Your coppers is got bilin', leastwise if they beant
all biled out — you'd best drink stret away, I guess, afore
the bottom of the biler gits left bare — for if it does, and
it's red hot now, boy, you'll be a blowin' up, like an old
steamboat, when you pumps in fresh water."

"Well, Tom," said Archer, "I do not think it would be
a bad move to take a drop of something, and a cracker;
for I suppose we shall not <ret supper much short of two
hour? ; and I'm so deuced hungry, that if I don't get
something just to take off the edge, I shall not be able to
eat when it does come!"

"I'll make a pitcher of egg nog; A drinks egg nog,

I guess, although he's the poorest drinkin' man I ever did
see. Now, Brewer, look alive — the fire's lit, is it? Well,
then, jump now and feed them poor starvin' bags-a-bones,
as Archer calls dogs, and tell your mother to git supper.
Have you brought anything along to eat or drink, boys — I
guess we haven't notnin' in the house!"

"Oh I you be hanged," said Harry, "I've brought a

144 ■^VAR^\^CK woodlands.

round of cold spiced beef, but I'm not going to cut that
up for supper; we shall want it to take along for lunch-
eon— you must (/ef something! Oh! by the way, you may
let the girls pick half a dozen quail, and broil them, if
you choose!"

"Quail! do you say? and where'll I git quail, I'd be
pleased to know?"

"Out of that gamebag," answered Harry, deliberately,
pointing to the well filled plump net which Timothy had
just brought in and hung up on the pegs beside the box-
coats. Without a word or syllable the old chap rushed to
the wall, seized it, and scarcely pausing to sweep out of
the way a large file of "The Spirit," and several numbers
of "The Register," emptied it on the table.

"Where the plague. Archer, did you kill them?" he
asked, "you didn't kill all them to-day, I guess ! One, two,
three — why, there's twenty-seven cock, and forty-nine
quail! By gin! here's another; just fifty quail, three
partridge, and six rabbits; well that's a most all-fired
nice mess, I swon ; if you killed them to-day you done
right well, I tell you — you won't get no such mess of birds
here now — but you was two days killing these, I guess!"

"Not we, Tom! Frank and I drove up from York last
night, and slept at young Tom's, down the valley — we
were out just as soon as it was light, and got the quail,
all except fifteen or sixteen, the ruffed grouse and four
hares, before twelve o'clock. At twelve the Commodore
came up from Nyack, where he left his yacht, and joined
us ; we got some luncheon, went out again at one, and be-
tween that and five bagged all the cock, the balance, as
you would call it, of the quail, and the other two bunnies."

"Well, then, you made good work of it, I tell you, and
you won't do nothin' like that agin this winter — not in
Warwick; but I won't touch them quail — it's a sin to
break that bunch — but you don't never care to take the
rabbits home, and the old woman's got some beautiful
fresh onions — she'll make a stew of them; — a smother, as
you call it, in a little less than no time. Archer; and
I've got half a dozen of them big gray snipe — English
snipe — that I killed down by my little run'-side; you'll
have them roasted with the guts in, I guess! and then
there's a pork-steak and sassagers — and if you don't like

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 145

that, you cnn jist go without. Here, Brower, take these
to your mother, and tell her to git supper right stret off —
and you tell Emma Jane to make some buckwheat cakes

for A ! he can't sup no how without buckwheat cakes;

and I sets a great store by A ! I does, by G — ! and

you needn't laugh, boys, for I doos a darned sight more
than what I doos by you."

"That's civil, at all events, and candid," replied Frank;
"and it's consolatory, too, for I can fancy no greater re-
proach to a man, than to be set store on by you. I do not

comprehend at all, how A bears up under it. But come,

do make that egg-nog that you're chattering about."

"How will I make it, Harry — with beer, or milk, or
cider?"

"All three! now be off, and don't jaw any more!" an-
swered Archer — "asking such silly questions, as if you
did not know better than any of us."

In a few minutes the delicious compound was prepared,
and with a plate of toasted crackers and some right good
Orange County butter, was set on a small round stand
before the fire; while from the neighboring kitchen rich
fumes began to load the air, indicative of the approaching
supper. In the mean time, the wagon was unloaded!
Timothy bustled to and fro; the parlor was arranged; the
bed-rooms were selected by that worthy; and everything
set out in its own place, so that they could not possibly
have been more comfortable in their own houses. The
horses had been duly cleaned, and clothed, and fed; th§
dogs provided with abundf^nce of dry straw, and a hot
mess of milk and meal ; and now, in the far corner of the
bar-room, the indefatigable varlet was cleaning the three
double guns, as scientifically as though he had served his
apprenticeship to a gunsmith.

Just at this moment a heavy foot was heard upon the
stoop, succeeded by a whining and a great scratching at
the door. "Here comes that Indian, Jem," cried Tom,
and as he spoke the door flew open, and in rushed old
Whino, the tall black and tan fox-hound, and Bonnybelle,
and Blossom, and another large blue-mottled bitch, of the
Southern breed. It was a curious sight to observe by how
sudden and intuitive an instinct the hounds rushed up to
Archer, and fawned upon him, jumping up with their

146 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

fore-paws upon his knees, and thrusting their bland smil-
ing faces almost into his face; as he, nothing loath, nor
repelling their caresses, discoursed most eloquent dog-
language to them, until, excited beyond all measure, old
Whino seated himself deliberately on the floor, raised his
nose toward the ceiling, and set up a long, protracted, and
most melancholy howl, which, before it had attained,
however, to its grand climax, was brought to a conclusion
by being converted into a sharp and treble yell ! a consum-
mation brought about by a smart application of Harry's
double-thonged four-horse whip, wielded with all the
power of Tom's right arm, and accompanied by a "Git
out, now — the whole grist! Kennel! now, kennel! out
with them, Jem, consam you; out with them, and your-
self, too ! out of this, or I'll put the gad about you, you
white Deckerin' nigger you !"

"Come back, when you have put them up, Jem; and
mind you don't let them be where they can get at the
setters, or they'll be fighting like the devil," interposed
Archer — "I want to have a chat with you. By-the-by,
Tom, where's Dash — you'd better look out, or the Com-
modore's dog, Grouse, will eat him before morning — mine
will not quarrel with him, but Grouse will to a certainty."

"Then for a sartainty I'll shoot Grouse, and wallop
Grouse's master, and that 'ill be two right things done one
momin'; the first would be a most darned right one, any

how, and kind too ! for then A would be forced to git

himself a good, nice setter dog, and not go shootin' over
a great old fat bustin' pinter, as isn't worth so much as I
be to hunt birds!"

"Ha! ha! ha!" shouted the Commodore, whom nothing
can, by any earthly means, put out of temper, "ha ! ha !
ha! I should like to see you shoot Grouse, Tom, for all
the store you set by me, you'd get the worst of that game.
You had better take Archer's advice, I can tell you."

"Archer's advice, indeed! it's likely now that I'd have
left my nice little dog to be spiled by your big brutes,
now aint it? Come, come, here's supper."

"Get something to drink, Jem, along with Timothy, and
come in when we've got through supper."

"Yes, sir," replied the knight of the cut-throat ; "I've
got some news to tell you, too, Tom, if you'll wait a bit."

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 147

"Cuss you, and your news too," responded Tom, "you're
sich a thunderin' liar, there's no knowin' when you do
speak truth. We'll not be losin' our supper for no lies,
I guess! Leastways I won't! Come Archer."

And with a right good appetite they walked into the
parlor; every thing was in order; every article placed just
as it had been when Frank went up to spend his first
week in the Woodlands; the gun-case stood on the same
chairs below the window; the table by the door was laid
out with the same display of powder-flasks, shot-pouches,
and accoutrements of all sizes. The liquor-stand was
placed by Harry's chair, open, containing the case-bottles,
the rummers being duly ranged upon the board, which
was well lighted by four tall wax candles, and being laid
with Harry's silver, made quite a smart display. The
rabbits smoked at the head, smothered in a rich sauce of
cream, and nicely shredded onions; the pork choi>s, thin
and crisply broiled, exhaled rich odors at the bottom; the
English snipe, roasted to half a turn, and reposing on
their neat squares of toast, were balanced by a dish of
well-fried sausages, reclining on a bed of mashed potatoes ;
champagne was on the table, unresined and unwdred,
awaiting only one touch of the knife to release the strug-
gling spirit from its transparent prison. Few words were
spoken for some time, unless it were a challenge to cham-
pagne, the corks of which popped frequently and furious;
or a request for another snipe, or another spoonful of the
sauce; while all devoted themselves to the work in hand
with a sincere and business-like earnestness of demeanor,
that proved either the excellence of Tom Draw's cookery,
or the efficacy of the Spartan sauce which the sportsmen
had brought to assist them at their meal. The last rich
drops of the fourth flask were trickling into Tom's wide-
lipped rummer, when Harry said,

"Come, we have done, I think, for one night ; let's have
the eatables removed, and we will have a pipe, and hear
what Jem has got to say; and you have told us nothing
about birds, either, you old elephant ; what do you mean
by it? That's right, Tim, now bring in my cigars, and
Mr. Forester's cheroots, and cold iced water, and boiling-
hot water, and sugar, out of my box, and lemons. The
shrub is here, and the Scotch whiskey ; will you have an-

148 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

other bottle of champagne, Tom? No! Well, then, look
sharp, Timothy, and send Jem in."

And thereupon Jem entered, thumbing his hat assidu-
ously, and sat down in the corner, by the window, where
he was speedily accommodated with a supply of liquor,
enough to temper any quantity of clay.

"Well, Jem," said Archer, "unbutton your bag now;
what's the news?"

"Well, Mr. Aircher, it ben't no use to tell you on't, with
Tom, there, puttin' a body out, and swear in' it's a lie, and
dammin' a chap up and down. It ben't no use to tell you,
and yet I'd kind o' like to, but then you won't believe a
fellow, not one on you I"

"In course not," answered Forester; and at the same
instant Tom struck in likewise —

"It's a lie, afore you tell it ; it's a lie, cuss you, and you
knows it. I'd sooner take a nigger's word than yours,
Jem, any how, for the darned niggers will tell the truth
when they can't git no good by lyin', but you, you will lie
all times ! When the truth would do the best, and you
would tell it if you could, you can't help lyin' !"

"Shut up, you old thief; shut up instantly, and let the
man speak, will you ; I can see by his face that he has got
something to tell; and as for lying, you beat him at it
any day."

Tom was about to answer, when Harry, who had been
eagerly engaged in mixing a huge tumbler-full of strong
cold shrub punch, thrust it under his nose, and he, unable
to resist the soft seductive odor, seized it incontinently,
and neither spoke nor breathed again until the bottom of
the rummer was brought parallel to the ceiling; then,
with a deep heart-felt sigh, he set it down ; and, with a
calm placid smile, exclaimed, "Tell on, Jem." Whereupon
that worthy launched into his full tide of narrative, as
follows :

"Well, you sees, Mr. Aircher, I tuk \ip this momin' clean
up the old crick side, nigh to Vernon, and then I turned
in back of old Squire Vandergriflf's, and druv the moun-
tains clear down here till I reached Rocky Hill ; I'd pretty
good sport, too, I tell you ; I shot a big gray fox on Round
Top, and started a raal rouser of a red one down in the
big swamp, in the bottom, and them sluts did keep the

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 149

darndest ragin,' you ever did hear tell on. Well, they
t\ik him clean out across the open, past Andy Joneses, and
they skeart up in his stubbles three bevies, I guess, got
into one like! there was a drove of them, I tell you, and
then they brought him back to the hills agin, and run
him twice clean round the Rocky Hill, and when they
came round the last time, the English sluts warn't half
a rod from his tail no how, and so he tried his last chance,
and he holed; but my! now, Mr. Aircher, by dam, you
niver did see nothin' like the partridges; they kept a
brushin' up, and brushin' up, and treein' every little while ;
I guess if I seen one I seen a hundred; why, I killed seven
on 'em with coarse shot up in the pines, and I daredn't
shoot exceptin' at their heads. If you'd go up there now,
to-morrow, and take the dogs alongs, I know as you'll git
fifty."

"Well, if that's all your news, Jem, I won't give you
much for it; and, as for going into the mountains to
look after partridges, you don't catch me at it, that's all !"
said Harry. "Is that all?"

"Not by a great shot!" answered Jem, grinning, "but
the truth is, I know you won't believe me; but I can tell
you what, you can kill a big fat buck, if you'll git up a
little afore daylight!"

"A buck, Jem! a buck near here?" inquired Forester
and Archer in a breath.

"I told you, boys, the critter couldn't help it ; he's stuck
to truth just so long, and he was forced to lie, or else he
would have busted !"

"It's true, by thunder," answered Jem; I wish I mayn't
eat nor drink nother, if there's one bit of lie in it; d — n
the bit, Tom! I'm in airnest, now right down; and you
knows as I wouldn't go to lie about it!"

"Well! well! where was't, Jem?"

"Why, he lies, I guess, now, in that little thickest swamp
of all, jist in the end of the swale atween Round Top and
Rocky Hill, right in the pines and laurels; leastways I
druv him down there with the dogs, and I swon that he
never crossed into the open meadow; and I went round,
and made a circle like clean round about him, and darn
the dog trailed on him no how ; and bein' as he's hard hot,
I guess he'll stay there since he harbored."

150 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

"Hard hit, is he! why, did you get a shot at him?"

"A fair one," Jem replied; "not three rod oflf from me;
he jumped up out of the channel of Stony Brook, where,
in ^ sort o' bend, there was a lot of bushes, sumach and
winter-green, and ferns; he skeart me, that's a fact, or I'd
a killed him. He warn't ten yards off when he bounced up
first, but I polled without cocking, and when I'd got my
gun fij^ed, he'd got off a little piece, and I'd got nauthen
but fox-shot, but I hot him jist in the side of the flank;
the blood flew out like winkin', and the hounds arter him
like mad, up and down, and round and back, and he a
kind of weak like, and they'd overhauled him once and
again, and tackled him, but there was only four on them,
and so he beat them off like every time, and onned again !
They couldn't hold him no how, till I got up to them, and I
couldn't fix it no how, so as I'd git another shot at him;
but it was growin' dark fast, and I flogged off the sluts
arter a deal o' work, and viewed him down the old blind
run-way into the swale eend, where I telled yoii ; and then
I laid still quite a piece; and then I circled round, to see
it he'd quit it, and not one dog tuk track on him, and so
I feels right sartain as he's in that hole now, and will be
in the mornin', if so be we goes there in time, afore the
sun's up."

"That we can do easily enough," said Archer, "what do
you say, Tom? Is it worth while?"

"Why," answered old Draw instantly, "if so be only we
could be sartain that the darned critter warn't a lyin',
there couldn't be no doubt about it; for if the buck did
lay up there this night, why he'll be there to-morrow ; and
if so be he's there, why we can get him sure!"

"Well, Jem, what have you got to say now," said the
Commodore ; "is it the truth or no ?"

"Why, darn it all," retorted Jem, "ham't I just told you
it was true; it's most blamed hard a fellow can't be be-
lieved now — why, Mr. Aircher, did I ever lie to you ?"

"Oh! if you ask me that," said Harry, '^jon know I
must say *Yes!' — for you have, fifty times at the least
computation. Do you remember the day you towed me
up the Decker's run to look for woodcock 1"

"And you found nothing," interrupted Tom, "but "

"Oh shut up, do Tom," broke in Forester, " and let us

WARWICK WOODLAJ^DS. 151

hear about this buck. If we agree to give you a five dollar
biU, Jem, in case we do find him where you say, what will
you be willing to forfeit if we do not?"

'TTou may shoot at mel" answered Jem, "all on you —
ivery one on you — at forty yards, with rifle or buckshot 1"

"It certainly is very likely that we should be willing to
get hanged for the sake of shooting such a mangy hound
as you, Jem," answered Forester, "when one could shoot a
good clean dog — Tom's Dash, for example — for nothing!"

"Could you though ?" Tom replied, "I'd like to catch you
at it, my dear boy — I'd wax the little hide off of you. But
come, let us be settling. Is it a lie now, Jem; speak out —
is it a lie, consam you? for if it be, you'd best jest say 't
out now, and save your bones to-morrow. Well, boys, the
critter's sulky, so most like it is true — and I guess we'll be
arter him. We'll be up bright and airly, and go a horse-
back, and if he be there, we can kill him in no time at aU,
and be right back to breakfast. I'll start Jem and the
captain here, and Dave Seers, with the dogs, an hour afore
usl and let them come right down the swale, and drive
him to the open — Harry and Forester, you two can ride

your own nags, and I'll take old Roan, and A here

shall have the colt."

"Very well! Timothy, did they feed well to-night? if
they did, give them their oats very early, and no water.
I know it's too bad after their work to-day, but we shall
not be out two hours!"

"Weel! it's no matter gin they were oot six," rospended
Timothy, "they wadna be a pin the waur o't!"

"Take out my rifle, then — and pick some buckshot cart-
ridges to fit the bore of all the double guns. Frank's got
his rifle; so you can take my heavy single gun — your

gauge is 17, A , quite too small for buckshot ; mine is

11, and will do its work clean with Ely's cartridge and
pretty heavy powder, at eighty-five to ninety yards. Tom's
bore is twelve, and I've brought some to fit his old double,
and some, too, for my own gun, though it is almost too
small!"

"What gauge is yours, Harry?"

"Fourteen; which I consider the very best bore possible
for general shooting. I think the gunsmiths are running,
headlong now into the opposite of their old error — when

152 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

they found that fifteens and fourteens outshot vastly the
old small calibres — fifty years since no guns were larger
than eighteen, and few than twenty; they are now quite
out-doing it. I have seen late-imported gun^ of seven
pounds, and not above twenty-six inches long, with eleven
and even ten gauge calibres! you might as well shoot with
a blunderbus at once!"

"They would tell at cock in close sununer covert," an-
swered A .

"For a man who can't cover his bird they might," re-
pied Harry; "but you may rely on it they lose three times
as much in force as they gain in the space they cover; at
forty yards you could not kill even a woodcock with them
once in fifty times, and a quail, or English snipe, at that
distance never!"

"What do you think the right length and weight, then,
for an eleven bore?"

"Certainly not less than nine pounds, and thirty inches ;
but I would prefer ten pounds and thirty-three inches;
though, except for a fowl-gun to use in boat-shooting, such
a piece would be quite too ponderous and clumsy. My
single gun is eleven gauge, eight pounds and thirty-three
inches; and even with loose shot executes superbly; but
with Ely's green cartridge I have put forty BB shot into
a square of two and a half feet at one hundred and
twenty-five yards; sharply enough, too, to imbed the shot
80 firmly in the fence against which I had fixed my mark,
that it required a good strong knife to get them out.
This I propose that you should use to-morrow, with a ll-o
oz. SG cartridge, which contains eighteen buck-shot, and
which, if you get a shot any where within a hundred
yards, will kill him as dead, I warrant it, as an ounce
bullet."

"Which you intend to try, I fancy," added Frank.

"Not quite! my rifle carries eighteen only to the
pound ; and yours, if I forget not, only thirty-two."

"But mine is double."

"Never mind that; thirty-two will not execute with
certainty above a hundred and fifty yards!"

"And how far in the devil's name would you have it
execute, as you calls it," asked old Tom.

"Three hundred!" replied Harry, coolly.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 153

"Thunder!" replied Draw, "don't tell me no sich thun-
derin' nonsense; I'll stand all day and be shot at, like a
Christmas turkey, at sixty rods, for six-pence a shot,
any how."

"I'll bet you all the liquor we can drink while we are
here, Tom," answered Harry, "that I hit a four foot target
at three hundred yards to-morrow!"

"Off hand?" inquired Tom, with an attempt at a sneer.

"Yes, off hand! and no shot to do that either; I know
men — lots of them — who would bet to hit a foot* square
at that distance!"

"Well! you can't hit four, no how!"

"Will you bet?"

"Sartain!"

"Very well — Done — Twenty dollars I will stake against
all the liquor we drink while we're here. Is it a bet ?"

"Yes! Done!' cried Tom — "at the first shot, you know;
I gives no second chances."

"Very well, as you please! — I'm sure of it, that's all —
Lord, Frank, how we will drink and treat — I shall invite
all the town up here to-morrow — Come! — One more round
for luck, and then to bed!"

"Content!" cried A ; "but I mean Mr. Draw to have

an argument to-morrow night about this point of Setter
vs. Pointer! How do you say, Harry? — which is best?"

"Oh! I'll be Judge and Jury," — answered Archer —
"and you shall plead before me; and I'll make up my
mind in the meantime!"

"He's for me, any how," — shouted Tom — "Darn it all,
Harry, you knows you wouldn't own a pinter — no, not if
it was gin you!"

"I believe you are about right there, old fellow, so far as
this country goes at least!" — said Archer — "different dogs
for different soils and seasons — and, in my judgment,
setters are far the best this side the Atlantic — but it is
late now, and I can't stand chattering here — good night
— ^you shall have as much dog-talk as you like tomorrow."

•When this was written strong exception was taken to It by a
Southern writer in the Spirit of the Times. Had that gentleman
known what is the practice of the heavy Tyrolese rifle he would not
have written so confidently. But it is needless to go so far as to the
Tyrol. There is a well known rifle-shot in New York, who can per-

154 W-VRWICK WOODLANDS.

THE OUTLYING STAG.

It was still pitch dark, although the skies were quite
clear and cloudless, when Harry, Frank, and the Com-
modore re-assembled on the following morning, in Tom's
best parlor, preparatory to the stag hunt which, as de-
termined on the previous night, was to be their first sport-
ing move in the valley.

Early, however, as it was, Timothy had contrived to
make a glorious fire upon the hearth, and to lay out a
slight breakfast of biscuits, butter, and cold beef, flanked
by a square case-bottle of Jamaica, and a huge jorum of
boiled milk. Tom Draw had not yet made his appear-
ance, but the sound of his ponderous tramp, mixed with
strange oaths and loud vociferations, showed that he was
on foot, and ready for the field.

"I'll tell you what. Master A ," said Archer, as he

stood with his back to the fire, mixing some rum with
sugar and cold water, previous to pouring the hot milk
into it — "You'll be so cold in that light jacket on the
stand this morning, that you'll never be able to hold your
gun true, if you get a shot. It froze quite hard last night,
and there's some wind, too, this morning."

"That's very true," replied the Commodore, "but devil a
thing have I got else to wear, unless I put on my great
coat, and that's too much the other way — too big and
clumsy altogether. I shall do well enough, I dare say;
and after all, my drilling jacket is not much thinner than
your fustian."

"No," said Harry, " but you don't fancy that I'm going
out in this, do you ? No ! no ! I'm too old a hand for that
sort of thing — I know that to shoot well, a man must be
comfortable, and I mean to be so. Why, man, I shall put
on my Canadian hunting shirt over this" — and with the
word he slipped a loose frock, shaped much like a wagon-
er's smock, or a Flemish blouse, over his head, with large
full sleeve?, reachinsr nlmost to his knees, and belted round
his waist, by a broad worsted sash. This excellent gar-
form the teat, any day, which the Southern writer scofled at a.s
utterly impossible.

Scrope on Deerstalking will show to any impartial reader's satis-
faction, that stags in the Highlands are rarely killed within 200 and
generally beyond 300 yards' distance

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 155

ment was composed of a thick coarse homespun woollen,
bottle-green in color, with fringe and bindings of dingy
red, to match the sash about his waist. From the sash
was suspended an otter skin pouch, containing bullets and
patches, nipple wrench and turn-screw, a bit of dry tow,
an oiled rag, and all the indispensables for rifle cleaning;
while into it were thrust two knives — one a broad two-
edged implement, with a stout buck-horn haft, and a blade
of at least twelve inches — the other a much smaller
weapon, not being, hilt and all, half the length of the
other's blade, but very strong, sharp as a razor, and of
surpassing temper. While he was fitting all these in their
proper places, and slinging under his left arm a small
buffalo horn of powder, he continued talking —

"Now," he said, "if you take my advice, you'll go into
my room, and there, hanging against the wall, yoU'U find
my winter shooting jacket, I had it made last year when
I went up to Maine, of pilot cloth, lined throughout with
flannel. It will fit you just as well as your own, for we're
pretty much of a size. Frank, there, will wear his old
monkey jacket, the skirts of which he razeed last winter
for the very purpose. Ah, here is Brower — just run up,
Brower, and bring down my shooting jacket off the wall
from behind the door — look sharp, will you! Now, then,
I shall load, and I advise you both to do likewise; for it's
bad work doing that same with cold fingers."

Thus saying, he walked to the corner, and brought out
his rifle, a short heavy double barrel, with two grooves
only, carrying a bitted ball of twelve to the pound,
quite plain but exquisitely finished. Before proceeding,
however, to load, he tried the passage of the nipple with a
fine needle — three or four of which, thrust into a cork,
and headed with sealing wax, formed a portion of the
contents of his pounch — brushed the cone, and the inside
of the hammer, carefully, and wiped them, to conclude,
with a small piece of clean white kid — then measuring
his powder out exactly, into a little charger, screwed to
the end of his ramrod, he inverted the piece, and intro-
duced the rod upward till the cup reached the chamber;
when, righting the gun, he withdrew it, leaving the powder
all lodged safely at the breech, without the loss of a single
grain in the groovings. Next, he choose out a piece of

156 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

leather, the finest grained kid, without a seam or wrinkle,
slightly greased with the best watch-maker's oil — selected
a ball perfectly round and true — laid the patch upon the
muzzle, and placing the bullet exactly in the centre over
the bore, buried it with a single rap of a small lignum
vitoe mallet, which hung from his button-hole; and then,
with but a trifling effort, drove it home by one steady
thrust of the stout copper-headed charging rod. This
done, he again inspected the cone, and seeing that the
powder was forced quite up into sight, picked out, with
the same anxious scrutiny that had marked all of his
proceedings, a copper cap, which he pronounced sure to
go, applied it to the nipple, crushed it down firmly, with
the hammer, which he then drew back to half-cock, and
bolted. Then he set the piece down by the fireside,
drained his hot jorum, and —

"That fellow will do his work, and no mistake," said he.

"Now A , here is my single gun" — handing to him, as

he spoke, one of the handsomest Westley Richards a sports-
man ever handled — "thirty -three inches, nine pounds and
eleven gauge. Put in one-third above that charger, which
is its usual load, and one of those green cartridges, and
I'll be bound that it will execute at eighty paces ; and that
is more than Master Frank there can say for his Manton
Rifle, at least if he loads it with bullets patched in that
slovenly and most unsportsmanlike fashion."

"I should like to know what the deuce you mean by
slovenly and unsportsmanlike," said Frank, pulling out of
his breast pocket a couple of bullets, carefully sewed up
in leather — "it is the best plan possible, and saves lots of
time — you see I can just shove my balls in at once, with-
out any bother of fitting patches."

"Yes," replied Harry, "and five to one the seam, which,
however neatly it is drawn, must leave a slight ridge, will
cross the direction of the grooving, and give the ball a
counter movement; either destroving altogether the ro-
tatory motion communicated by the rifling, or causing it
to take a direction quite out of the true line; accordingly
as the counteraction is conveyed near the breech, or near
the muzzle of the piece."

"Will so trifling a cause produce so powerful an effect?"
inquired the Commodore.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 15'7

"The lenst variation, whether of concavity or convexity
in the bullet, will do so unquestionably — and I cannot
see why the same thing in a covering superinduced to the
ball should not have the same effect. Even a hole in a
pellet of shot, will cause it to leave the charge, and fly off
at a tangent. I was once shooting in the fens of the Isle
of Ely, and fired at a mallard sixty or sixty-five yards off,
with double B shot, when to my great amazement a work-
man— digging peat at about the same distance from me
with the bird, but at least ninety yards to the right of the
mallard — roared out lustily that I had killed him. I
saw that the drake was knocked over as dead as a stone,
and consequently laughed at the fellow, and set it down
as a cool trick to extort money, not uncommon among
the fen men, as applied to members of the University. T
had just finished loading, and my retriever had just
brought in the dead bird, which was quite riddled, cut up
evidently by the whole body of the charge — both the wings
broken, one in three places, one leg almost dissevered, and
several shots in the neck and body — when up came my
friend, and sure enough he was hit — one pellet had
struck him on the cheek bone, and was imbedded in the
skin. Half a crown, and a lotion of whiskey — not applied
to the part, but taken inwardly — soon proved a sovereign
medicine, and picking out the shot with the point of a
needle, I found a hole in it big enough to admit a pin's
head, and about the twentieth part of an inch in depth.
This I should think is proof enough for you — but, besides
this, I have seen bullets in pistol-shooting play strange
vagaries, glancing off from the target at all sorts of
queer angles."

"Well! well!" replied Frank, my rifle shoots true
enough for me — true enough to kill generally — and who
the deuce can be at the bother of your pragmatical prep-
arations! I am :5ure it might be said of you, as it was of
James the First, of most pacific and pedantic memory,
that you are 'Captain of arts and Clerk of arms' — at least
you are very pedant in gunnery."

"No! no!" said A ; "you're wrong there altogether.

Master Forester; there is nothing on earth that makes so
great a difference in sportsmanship as the observation of
small things. I don't call him a sportsman who can walk

158 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

stoutly, and kill well, unless he can give causes for effects
— unless he knows the haunts and habits both of his game
and his dogs — unless he can give a why for every where-
fore!"

"Then devil a bit will you ever call me one," — answered
Frank — "For I can't be at the trouble of thinking about
it."

"Stuff — humbug — folly" interrupted Archer — "you
know a great deal better than that — and so do we, too! —
you're only cranky! a little cranky, Frank, and given to
defending any folly you commit without either rhyme
or reason — as when you tried to persuade me that it is the
safest thing in nature to pour gunpowder out of a canister
into a pound flask, with a lighted cigar between your teeth ;
to demonstrate which you had scarcely screwed the top
of the horn on, before the lighted ashes fell all over it —
had they done so a moment sooner, we should all have
been blown out of the room."

By this time, the Commodore had donned Harry's
winter jacket, and Frank, grumbling and paradoxizing all
the while, had loaded his rifle, and buttoned up his pea-
jacket, when in stalked Tom, swathed up to his chin in a
stout dreadnought coat.

"What are ye lazin' here about!" he shouted, "you're
niver ready no how. Jem's been agone these two hours,
and we'll jest be too late, and miss gittin' a shot — if so be
there be a buck — which I'll be sworn there arn't I"

"Ha! ha!" the Commodore burst out; "ha! ha! ha! I
should like to know which side the laziness has been on
this morning, Mister Draw."

"On little wax skin's there," answered the old man, as
quick as lightning; "the little snoopin' critter carn't find
his gloves now; though the nags is at the door, and we all
ready. We'll drink, boys, while he's lookin' arter 'em —
and then when he's found them, and's jest a gittin' on his
horse, he'll find he's left his powder-horn or knife, or
somethin' else, behind him; and then we'll drink agin,
while he snoops back to fetch it."

"You be hanged, you old rascal," replied Forester, a
little bothered by the huge shouts of laughter which
followed this most strictly accurate account of his accus-
tomed method of proceeding; an account which, by the

WAKWICK WOODLANDS. 159

way, was fully justified not twenty minutes afterward, by
his galloping back, neck or nothing, to get his pocket
handkerchief, which he had left "in course," as Tom said,
in his dressing-gown beside the fire.

"Come, bustle — bustle!" Hany added, as he put on his
hunting cap and pulled a huge pair of fen boots on, reach-
ing to the midthigh, which Timothy had garnished with a
pair of bright English spurs. In another minute they
were all on horseback, trotting away at a brisk pace to-
ward the little glen, wherein, according to Jem's last re-
port, the stag was harbored. It was in vain that during
their quick ride the old man was entreated to inform
them where they were to take post, or what they were to
do, as he would give them no reply, nor any information
whatever.

At last, however, when Forester rejoined them, after
his return to the village, he turned short off from the high
road to the left, and as he passed a set of bars into a wild
hill pasture, struck into a hard gallop.

Before them lay the high and ridgy head of Round
Top, his flanks sloping toward them, in two broad pine-
clad knobs, with a wild streamlet brawling down between
them, and a thick tangled swamp of small extent, but full
of tall dense thornbushes, matted with vines and cat-briers,
and carpeted with a rich undergrowth of fern and winter-
green, and whortleberries. To the right and left of tho
two knobs or spurs just mentioned, were two other deep
gorges, or dry channels, bare of brushwood, and stony —
rock-walled, with steep precipitous ledges toward the
mountain, but sloping easily up to the lower ridges. As
they reached the first of these. Tom motioned Forester
to stop.

"Stand here," he whispered, "close in here, jest behind
this here crag — and look out hereaways toward the village.
If he comes down this runway, kill him, but mind you
doesn't show a hair out of this corner; for Archer, he'll
stand next, and if so be he crosses from the swamp hole
hereaways, you'll chance to get a bullet. Be still, now, as
:i mouse, and tie vour horse here in the cove! — Now,
lads"—

And off he set again, rounded the knob, and making
one slig-ht motion toward the nook, wherein he wished that

160 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

Harry should keep guard, wheeled back in utter silence,
and very slowly — for they were close to the spot wherein,
as they supposed, the object of their chase was laid up;
and as yet but two of his paths were guarded toward the
plain; Jem and his comrades having long since got with
the hounds into his rear, and waiting only for the rising
of the sun to lay them on, and push along the channel of
the brook.

This would compel him to break covert, either directly
from the swamp, or by one of the dry gorges mentioned.
Now, therefore, was the crisis of the whole matter; for if
— before the other passes were made good — the stag should
take alarm, he might steal off without affording a chance
of a shot, and get into the mountains to the right, where
they might hunt him for a week in vain.

No marble statue could stand more silently or still than
Harry and his favorite gray, who, with erected ears and
watchful eye, trembling a little with excitement, seemed
to know what he was about, and to enjoy it no less keenly
than his rider. Tom and the Commodore, quickening
their pace as they got out of ear-shot, retracted their steps
quite back to the turnpike road, along which Harry saw
them gallop furiously, in a few minutes, and turn up, half
a mile off, toward the further gulley — he saw no more,
however; though he felt certain that the Commodore was,
scarce ten minutes after he lost sight of them, standing
within twelve paces of him, at the further angle of the
swamp — Tom having warily determined that the two
single guns should take post together, while the two
doubles should be placed where the wild quarry could get
off encoutering but a single sportsman.

It was a period of intense excitement before the sun
rose, though it was of short duration — but scarcely had his
first rays touched the open meadow, casting a huge gray
shadow from the rounded hill which covered half the
valley, while all the farther slope was laughing in broad
light, the mist wreaths curling up, thinner and thinner
every moment, from the broad streamlet in the bottom,
which here and there flashed out exultingly from its
wood-covered margins — scarcely had his first rays topped
the hill, before a distant shout came swelling on the air.
down the ravine, annoimcing Jem's approach. No hound

WARWICK WOODLANDS. IGl

gave tongue, however, nor did a rustle in the brake, or
any sound of life, give token of the presence of the game —
louder and nearer drew the shouts — and now Harry him-
self began to doubt if there were any truth in Jem's re-
lation, when suddenly the sharp, quick crack of Forester's
rifle gave token that the game was afoot — a loud yell frorn
that worthy followed.

"Look out! Mark — back — mark back!"

And keenly Archer did look out, and warily did he
listen — once he detected, or fancied he detected, a rustling
of the underwood, and the crack of a dry stick, and drop-
ping his reins on the horse's neck, he cocked his rifle —
but the sound was not repeated, nor did any thing come
into sight — so he let down the hammer once again, and
resumed his silent watch, saying to himself —

''Frank fired too quick, and he has headed up the brook
to Jem. If he is forward enough now, we shall have him
back instantly, with the hounds at his heels; but if he has
loitered and hung back, 'over the hills and far away' is
the word for this time."

But Jem was in his place, and in another moment a
long whoop came ringing down the glen, and the shrill
yelping rally of the hounds as they all opened on a view
together ! Fiercer and wilder grew the hubbub ! And now
the eager watcher might hear the brushwood torn in all
directions by the impetuous passage of the wild deer and
his inveterate pursuers. .

"Now, then, it is old Tom's chance, or ours," he thought,
"for he will not try Forester again, I warrant him, and
we are all down wind of him — so he can't judge of our
whereabouts."

In another second the bushes crashed to his left hand,
and behind him, while the dogs were raving scarcely a
pistol-shot off, in the tangled swamp. Yet he well knew

that if the stag should break there it would be A 's

shot, and, though anxious, he kept his eye fixed steadly
on his own point, holding his good piece cocked and ready.

"Mark! Harry, mark him!" — a loud yell from the Com-
modore.

The stag had broken midway between them, in full

sight of A , and seeing him, had wheeled off to the

right. He was now sweeping onward across the open field

162 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

with high graceful bounds, tossing his antlered head aloft,
as if already safe, and little hurt, if anything, by Jem
Lyn's boasted shot of the last evening. The gray stood
motionless, trembling, however, palpably, in every limb,
with eagerness — his ears laid flat upon his neck, and
cowering a little, as if he feared the shot, which it
would seem his instinct told him to expect. Harry had
dropped his reins once more, and levelled his unerring
rifle — yet for a moment's space he paused, waiting for

A to fire; there was no hurry for himself, nay, a few

seconds more wotdd give him a yet fairer shot, for the
buck now was running partially toward him, so that a
moment more would place him broadside on, and within
twenty paces.

"Bang!" came the full and round report of A 's

large shot-gun, fired before the beast was fifteen yards
away from him. He had aimed at the head, as he was
forced to do, lest he should spoil the haunches, for he
was running now directly from him — and had the buck
been fifty paces off he would have killed him dead, lodging
his whole charge, or the best part of it, in the junction of
the neck and skull — but as it was, the cartridge — the
green cartridge — had not yet spread at all; nor had one
buckshot left the case! Whistling like a single ball, as
it passed Harry's front eight or nine yards off, it drove,
as his quick eye discovered, clean through the stag's right
ear, almost dissevering it, and making the animal bound
six feet off the green sward.

Just as he touched the earth again, alighting from his
mighty spring, with an aim sure and steady, and a cool
practised finger, the marksman drew his trigger, and,
quick, as light, the piece — well loaded, as its dry crack
announced — discharged its ponderous missile! But, bad
luck on it, even at that very instant, just in the point of
time wherein the charge was ignited, eighteen or twenty
quail, flushed by the hubbub of the hounds, rose with a
loud and startling whirr, on every side of the gray horse,
\xnder his belly and about his ears, so close as almost to
brush him with their wings — he bolted and reared up — ^yet
even at that disadvantage the practised rifleman missed
not his aim entirely, though he erred somewhat, and the
wound in consequence was not quite deadly.

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 168

The ball, which he had meant for the heart, his sight
being taken under the fore-shoulder, was raised and
thrown forward by the motion of the horse, and passed
clean through the neck close to the blade bone. Another
leap, wilder and loftier than the last! yet still the stag
dashed onward, with the blood gushing out in streams
from the wide wound, though as yet neither speed nor
strength appeared to be impaired, so fleetly did he scour-
the meadow.

"He will cross Frank, yet!" cried Archer. "Mark!
mark him. Forester!"

But, as he spoke, he set his rifle down against the fence,
and holloaed to the hounds, which instantly, obedient to
his well-known and cheery whoop, broke covert in a body,
and settled, heads up and sterns down, to the blazing
scent.

At the same moment A came trotting out from his

post, gun in hand; while at a thundering gallop, blas-
pheming awfully as he came on, and rating them for
"know-nothins, and blunderin etarnal spoil-sports," Tom
rounded the farther hill, and spurred across the level. By
this time they were all in sight of Forester, who stood on
foot, close to his horse, in the mouth of the last gorge, the
buck running across him sixty yards off, and quartering
a little from him toward the road ; the hounds were, how-
ever, all midway between him and the quarry, and as the
ground sloped steeply from the marksman, he was afraid
of firing low — but took a long, and, as it seemed, sure
aim at the head.

The rifle flashed — a tine flew, splintered by the bullet,
from the brow antler, not an inch above the eye.

"Give him the other!" shouted Archer. "Give him the
other barrel!"

But Frank shook his head spitefully, and dropped the
muzzle of his piece.

"By thunder! then, he's forgot his bullets — and hadn't
nothen to load up agen, when he missed the first time!"

"Ha! ha! ha!" roared once again the Commodore — "ha!
ha ! hah ! — ha ! ha !" till rock and mountain rang again.

"By the Etamal!" exclaimed Draw, perfectly frantic

with passion and excitement — "By thunder! A , I

guess you'd laugh if your best friends was all a dyin' at

164 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

your feet. You would for sartain! But look, look! —
what the plague's Harry goin' at?"

For when he saw that Forester had now, for some reason
or other, no farther means of stopping the stag's career^
Archer had set spurs to his horse, and dashed away at
a hard furious gallop after the wounded buck. The
hounds, which had lost sight of it as it leaped a high
stone wall with much brush round the base of it, were
running fast and furious on the scent — but still, though
flagging somewhat in his speed, the stag was leaving
them. He had turned, as the last shot struck his horns,
down hiU, as if to cross the valley; but immediately, as
if perceiving that he had passed the last of his enemies,
turned up again toward the mountain, describing an are,
almost, in fact, a semi-circle, from the point where he had
broken covert to that — another guUy, a perhaps a short
mile's distance — from which he was now aiming.

Across the chord, then, of this arc, Harry was driving
furiously, with the intent, as it would seem, to cut him
off from the gulley — the stone wall crossed his line, but
not a second did he pause for it, but gave his horse both
spurs, and lifting him a little, landed him safely at the
other side. Frank mounted rapidly, dashed after him*

and soon passed A , who was less aptly mounted for a

chase — he likewise topped the wall, and disappeared be-
yond it, though the stones flew, where the bay struck the
coping with his heels.

All pluck to the back-bone, the Commodore craned not
nor hesitated, but dashed the colt, for the first time in his
life, at the high barrier — he tried to stop, but could not,
so powerfully did this rider cram him — leaped short, and
tumbled head over heels, carrying half the wall with him,
and leaving a gap as if a wagon had passed through it —
to Tom's astonishment and agony — for he supposed the
colt destroyed forever.

Scarcely, however, had A — — gained his feet, before
a sight met his eyes, which made him leave the colt, and
run as fast as his legs could carry him toward the scene
of action.

The stag, seeing his human enemy so near, had strained
every nerve to escape, and Harry, desperately rash and
daring, seeing he could not turn or head him, actually

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 165

spurred upon him counter to broadside, in hope to ride
him down ; foiled once again, in this — his last hope, as it
seemed — he drew his longest knife, and as — a quarter of
a second too late only — he crossed behind the buck, he
swung himself half out of his saddle, and striking a full
blow, succeeded in hamstringing him; while the gray,
missing the support of the master-hand, stumbled and
fell upon his head.

Horse, stag, and man, all rolled upon the ground within
the compass of ten yards — the terrified and wounded deer
striking out furiously in all directions — so that it seemed
impossible that Archer could escape some deadly injury —
while, to increase the fury and the peril of the scene, the
hounds came up, and added their fresh fierceness to the

fierce confusion. Before, however, A came up, Harry

had gained his feet, 'drawn his small knife — the larger
having luckily flown many yards as he fell — and running
in behind the struggling quarry, had seized the brow
antler, and at one strong and skilful blow, severed the
weasand and the jugular. One gush of dark red gore —
one plunging effort, and the superb and stately beast lay
motionless forever — while the loud_ death halloo rang over
the broad valley — all fears, all perils, utterly forgotten in
the strong rapture of that thrilling moment.

SNIPE ON THE UPLAND.

"Now then boys, we've no time to lose," said Archer, as
he replaced his knives, which he had been employed in
wiping with great care, in their respective scabbards, "it's
getting toward eight o'clock, and I feel tolerably peckish,
the milk punch and biscuits notwithstanding; we shall
not be in the field before ten o'clock, do our best for it.
Now, Jem," he continued, as that worthy, followed by
David Seers and the Captain made their appearance, hot
and breathless, but in high spirits at the glorious termi-
nation of the morning's sport — "Now, Jem, you and the
Captain must look out a good strong pole, and tie tha*
fellow's legs, and carry him between you as far as Plain's
house — you can come up with the wagon this afternoon
and bring him down to the village. What the deuce are

166 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

you pottering at that colt about, Tom? He's not hurt a
pin's value, on the contrary — "

"Better for 't, I suppose, you'll be a tellin' me torights;
better for that all-fired etarnal tumble, aint he?" respond-
ed the fat chap, \Yitli a lamentable attempt at on ironical
smile, put on to hide his real chagrin.

"In course he is," replied Frank, who had recovered his
wonted equanimity, and who, having been most unmerci-
fully rallied by the whole party for leaving his bullets at
home, was glad of an opportunity to carry the war into
the emeny's country, "in course he is a great deal better
— if a thing can be said to be better which, under all
circumstances, is so infernally had, as that brute. I
should think he was better for it. Why, by the time he's
had half a dozen more such purls, he'll leap a six foot
fence without shaking a loose rail. In fact, I'll bet a
dollar I carry him back over that same wall without
touching a stone." And, as he spoke, he set his foot into
the stirrup, as if he were about to put his threat into
immediate execution.

"Quit, Forester — quit, I say — quit, now — consarn the
hide on you" — shouted the fat man, now in great tribu-
lation, and apprehending a second edition of the tumble —
"quit foolin,' or by h — 1 I'll put a grist of shot, or one of
they green cartridges into you stret away — I will, by the
Etarnal!" and as he spoke he dropped the muzzle of his
gun, and put his thumb upon the cock.

"/ say quit foolin', too," cried Harry, "both of you quit
it; you old fool, Tom, do you really suppose he is mad
enough to ride that brute of yours again at the wall?"

"Mad enough! — yes, I swon he be," responded Tom;
"both of you be as mad as the hull Asylum down to York.
If Frank arn't mad, then there aint such a word as mad !"
But as he spoke he replaced his gun under his arm, and
walked off to his horse, which he mounted, without farther
words, his example being followed by the whole party,
who set off on the spur, and reached the village in less
than half an hour.

Breakfast was on the table when they got there — black
tea, produced from Harry's magazine of stores, rich cream,
hot bread, and Goshen butter — eggs in abundance, boiled,
roasted, fried with ham — an omelet an fines herhes, no

WARWICK WOUDL.Wns. 167

inconsiderable token of Tim's culinary skill — a cold round
of spiced beef, and last, not least, a dish of wood-duck
hot from the gridiron.

"By George," said Harry, "here's a feast for an epicure,
and I can find the appetite."

"Find it" — said Forester, grinning, who, pretending to
eat nothing, or next to nothing, and not to care what was
sot before him, was really the greatest gourmet and heavi-
est feeder of the party — "Find it, Harry? it's quite new
to me that you ever lost it. When was it, hey?"

"Arter he'd eat a hull roast pig, I reckon — leastwise
that might make Harry lose his'n; but I'll be darned if
two would be a sarcumstance to set before you, Frank, no
how. Here's A , too, he don't never eat."

"These wood-duck are delicious," answered the Commo-
dore, who was very busily employed in stowing away his
provant, "What a capital bird it is, Harry."

"Indeed, is it," said he, "and this is, me judice, the very
best way to eat it, red hot from the gridiron, cooked very
quick, and hrown on the outside, and full of gravy when
you cut ; with a squeeze of a lemon and a dash of cayenne
it is sublime. What say you. Forester?"

"Oh, you won't ketch him sayin' uauthen, leastwise not
this half hour — but the way he'll keep a feedin' won't be
slow, I tell you — that's the way to judge how Forester
likes his grub — jest see how he takes hold on 't."

"Are there many wood-duck about this season, Tom?"
asked Forester, affecting to be perfectly careless and in-
different to all that had passed. "Did von kill these vour-
self?"

"There was a sight on them a piece back, but they're
gittin scase — pretty scase now, I tell you. Yes, I shot
these down by Aunt Sally's big spring-hole a Friday. I'd
been a lookin' round, you see, to find where the quail
kept afore you came up here — for I'd been expectin' you
a week and better — and I'd got in quite late, toward sun-
down, with an outsidin' bevy, down by the cedar swamp,
and druv them off into the big bog meadows, below
Sugar-loaf, and I'd killed quite a bunch on them — sixteen,
I reckon, Archer; and there wasn't but eighteen when I
lit on em — and it was gittin' pretty well dark when I,
came to the big spring, and little Dash was worn dead out.

168 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

and I was tired, and hot, and thunderin' thirsty, so I sets
down aside the outlet where the spring water comes in
good and cool, and I was mixin' up a nice long drink in
the big glass we hid last summer down in the mudhole,
with some great cider sperits — when what should I hear
all at once but whistle, whistlin' over head, the wings of a
whole drove on 'em, so up I buckled the old gun; but
they'd plumped down into the crick fifteen rod off or
better, down by the big pin oak, and there they sot,
seven ducks and two big purple-headed drakes — beauties,
I tell you. Well, boys, I vipped gun and tuck sight stret
away, but just as I was drawin', I kind o' thought I'd
got two little charges of number eight, and that to shoot
at ducks at fifteen rod wasn't nauthen. Well, then, I
fell a thinkin', and then I sairched my pockets, and arter
a piece found two green cartridges of number three, as
Archer gave me in the Spring, so I drawed out the small
shot, and inned with these, and put fresh caps on to be
sarten. But jest when I'd got ready, the ducks had floated
down with the stream, and dropped behind the pint — so
I downed on my knees, and crawled, and Dash along side
on me, for all the world as if the darned dog knowed ; well,
I crawled quite a piece, till I'd got under a bit of alder
bush, and then I seen them — all in a lump like, except
two — six ducks and a big drake — feedin', and stickin'
down their heads into the weeds, and flutterin' up their
hinder eends, and chatterin' and jokin' — I could have
covered them all with a handkercher, exceptin' two, as I
said afore, one duck and the little drake, and they was
off a rod or better from the rest, at the two different sides
of the stream — the big bunch wam't over ten roods off
me, nor so far; so I tuck sight ri^ht at the big drake's
neck. The water was quite clear and still, and seemed
to have caught all the little light as was left by the sun,
for the skies had got pretty dark, I tell you ; and I could
see his head quite clear agin the water — well, I draw'd
trigger, and the hull charge ripped into 'em — and there
was a scrabblin' and a squatterin' in the water now, I
tell you — but not one of 'em riz — not the darned one of
the hull bunch; but up jumped both the others, and X
drawed on the drake — more by the whistlin' of his wingSj
than that I seen him — but I drawed stret, Archer, any

WARWICK WOODLANDS. lt)U

ways; and arter I'd pulled half a moment I hard him
plump down into the creek with a splash, and the water
sparkled up like a fountain where he fell. So then I didn't
wait to load, but ran along the bank as hard as I could
stride it, and when I'd got down to the spot, I tell you,
little Dash had got two on 'em out afore I came, and was
in with a third. Well, sich a cuttin' and a splashin' as
there was you never did see, none on you — I guess, for
sartin — leastwise I niver did. I'd killed, you see, the
drake and two ducks, dead at the first fire, but three was
only wounded, wing-tipped, and leg-broken, and I can't
tell you what all. It was all of nine o'clock at night, and
dark as all out doors, afore I gathered them three ducks,
but I did gather 'em; Lord, boys, why I'd stayed till
mornin' but I'd a got them, sarten. Well, the drake I
killed flyin' I couldn't find him that night, no how, for
the stream swept him down, and I hadn't got no guide to
go by, so I let him go then, but I was up next mornin'
bright and airly, and started up the stream clean from
the bridge here, up through Garry's backside, and my
boghole, and so on along the meadows to Aunt Sally's
run — and looked in every willow bush that dammed the
waters back, like, and every bunch of weeds, and brier-
brake, all the way, and sure enough I found him, he'd
been killed dead, and floated down the crick, and then the
stream had washed him up into a heap of broken sticks
and briers, and when the waters fell, for there had been a
little freshet, they left him there breast uppermost — and
I was glad to find him — for I think. Archer, as that shot
was the nicest, prettiest, etamal, darndest, long, good
shot, I iver did make, anyhow; and it was so dark I
couldn't see him."

"A sweet shot, Tom," responded Forester, "a sweet
pretty shot, if there had only been one word of truth in
it, which there is not — don't answer me, you old thief —
shut up instantly, and get your traps; for we've done
feeding, and you've done lying, for the present, at least I
hope so — and now we'll out, and see whether you've
poached up all the game in the country."

"Well, it be gettin' late for sartain," answered Tom,
"and that'll save your little wax skin for the time; but

170 WARWICK WOODL.^DS.

see, jest see, boy, if I doesn't sarve you out, now, afore
sundown !"

"Which way shall be beat, Tom," asked Harry, as he
changed his riding boots for heavy shooting shoes and
leggins; "which course to-day?"

"Why, Timothy's gittin' out the wagon, and we'll drive
up the old road round the ridge, and so strike in by
Minthome's, and take them ridges down, and so across
the hill — there's some big stubbles there, and nice thick
brush holes along the fence sides, and the boys does tell
us there be one or two big bevies — but, cuss them, they
will lie! — and over back to Gin'ral Bertolf's barns, and
so acrost the road, and round the upper eend of the big
pond, and down the long swamp into Hell hole, and Tim
can meet us with the wagon at five o'clock, under Bill
Wisner's white oak — does that suit you?"

"Excellently well, Tom," replied Harry, "I could not
have cut a better day's work out myself, if I had tried.
Well, all the traps are in, and the dogs, Timothy, is it
not 80?"

"Ey! ey! Sur," shouted that worthy from without, "all
in, this half -hour, and all roightl"

"Light your cigars then, quick, and let us start^ —
hurrah !"

Within two minutes, they were all seated. Fat Tom in
the post of honor by Harry's side upon the driving box,
the Commodore and Frank, with Timothy, on the back
seat, and off they rattled — ten miles an hour without the
whip, up hill and down dale all alike, for they had but
three miles to go, and that was gone in double quick time.

"What mun Ay do wi' t' horses, Sur?" asked Tim,
touching his castor as he spoke.

"Take them home, to be sure," replied Harry, "and
meet us with them under the oak tree, close to Mr. Wi"5-
ner's house, at five o'clock this evening.''

"Nay! nay! Sur!" answered Tim, with a broad grin,
eager to see the sport, and hating to be sent so uncere-
moniously home, "that winna do, I'm thinking — who'll
hug t' gam bag, and carry t' bottles, and make t' loonchun
ready; that winna do, Sur, niver. If yoii pie-ease, Sur,
Ay'll pit oop t' horses i' Measter Minthome's barn here,
and shak' doon a bite o' hay tull 'em, and so srang on wi'

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 171

you, and carry t' bag whaile four o' t' clock, and then
awa back and hitch oop, and draive doon to t' aik tree!"

"I understand, Tim,'' said his master, laughing; "I
understand right well! you want to see the sport."

"Ayse oophaud it!" grinned Timothy, seeing at once
that he should gain his point.

"Well! well! I don't care about it; will Minthorne let
us put up the beasts in his bam, Tom?"

"Let us! Jet us!" exclaimed the fat man; "by gad I'd
like to see Joe Minthorne, or any other of his breed, a
tellin' me I shouldn't put my cattle where I pleased; jest
let me ketch him at it!"

"Very well; have it your own way, Tim, take care of
the beasts, and overtake us as quick as you can !" and as
he spoke, he let down the bars which parted a fine wheat
stubble from the road, and entered the field with the
dogs at heel. "We must part company to beat these
little woods, must we not, Tom?"

"I guess so — I'll go on with A ; his Grouse and my

Dash will work well enough, and you and Frank keep
down the valley hereaways; ive'll beat that little swamp-
hole, and then the open woods to the brook side, and so
along the meadows to the big bottom; you keep the hill-
side coverts, and look the little pond-holes well on Min-
thorne's Ridge, you'll find a cock or two there anyhow;
and beat the bushes by the wall; I guess you'll have a
bevy jumpin' up; and try, boys, do, to git 'em down the
little hill into the boggy bottom, for we can use them, I
tell you !" and so they parted.

Archer and Forester, with Shot and Chase at heel,
entered the little thicket indicated, and beat it carefully,
but blank: although the dogs worked hard, and seemed
as if about to make game more than once. They crossed
the road, and came into another little wood, thicker and
wetter than the first, with several springy pools, although
it wa?i almost upon the summit of the hill. Here Harry
took the left or lower hand, bidding Frank keep near the
outside at top, and full ten yards ahead of him.

"And mind, if you hear Tom shoot, or cry 'mark' jump
over into the open field, and be all eyes, for that's their
line of country into the swamp, where we would have
them. Hold up. good dogs, hold up!"

172 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

And oflF they went, crashing and rattling through the
dry matted briers, crossing each other evenly, and quarter-
ing the ground with rare accuracy. Scarcely, however,
had they beat ten paces, before Shot flushed a cock as
he was in the very act of turning at the end of his beat,
having run in on him down wind, without crossing the
line of scent. Flip — flip — flap rose the bird, but as the
dog had turned, and was now running from him, he
perceived no cause for alarm, fluttered a yard or two
onward, and alighted. The dog, who had neither scented
nor seen the bird, caught the sound of his wing, and stood
stiff on the instant, though his stern was waved doubt-
fully, and though he turned his sagacious knowing phiz
over his shoulder, as if to look out for the pinion, the flap
of which had arrested his quick ear. The bird had settled
ere he turned, but Shot's eye fell upon his master, as with
his finger on the trigger-guard, and thumb on the hammer,
he was stepping softly up in a direct line, with eye in-
tently fixed, toward the place where the woodcock had
dropped; he knew as well as though he had been blessed
with human intellect, that game was in the wind, and
remained still and steady. Flip — flap again up jumped
the bird.

"Mark cock," cried Forester, from the other side of the
wood, not having seen any thing, but hearing the sound of
the timber doodle's wing somewhere or other; and at the
self-same moment bang ! boomed the full report of Harry's
right hand barrel, the feathers drifting off down wind
toward Frank, told him the work was done, and he asked
no question; but ere the cock had struck the ground,
which he did within half a second, completely doubled up
— whirr, whirr-r-r ! the loud and startling hubbub of ruffed
grouse taking wing at the report of Harry's gun, suc-
ceeded— and instantly, before that worthy had got his
eye about from marking the killed woodcock, bang! bang!
from Forester. Archer dropped butt, and loaded as fast
as it was possible, and bagged his dead bird quietly, but
scarcely had he done so before Frfink hailed him.

"Bring up the dogs, old fellow; I knocked down two,
and I've bagged one, but I'm afraid the other's run !"

"Stand still, then — stand still, till I join you. He-herfe,

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 173

he-here good dogs," cried Harry, striding away through
the brush like a good one.

In a moment he stood by Frank, who was just pocket-
ing his first, a fine hen grouse.

"The other was the cock," said Frank, "and a very
large one, too; he was a long shot, but he's very hard hit;
he flew against this tree before he fell, and bounded off
it here; look at the feathers!"

"Aye! we'll have him in a moment; seek dead, Shot;
seek, good dogs; ha! now they wind him; there! Chase has
him — no ! he draws again — now Shot is standing ; hold up,
hold up, lads, he's running like the mischief, and won't
stop till he reaches some thick covert."

Bang! bang! "Mark — ma-ark!" bang! bang! "mark,
Harry Archer, mark," came down the wind in quick suc-
cession from the other party, who were beating some thick
briers by the brook side, at three or four fields' distance.

"Quick, Forester, quick!" shouted Archer; "over the
wall, lad, and mark them! those are quail; I'm man
enough to get this fellow by myself. Steady, lads!
steady-y-!" as they were roading on at the top of their
pace. "Toho! toho-o-o, Chase; fie, for shame — don't you
see, sir, Shot's got him dead there under his very nose in
those cat-briers. Ha! dead! good lads — good lads; dead!
dead! fetch him, good dog; by George but he is a fine bird.
I've got him, Forester; have you marked down the quail?"

"Ay! av! in the bog bottom!"

"How many?"

"Twenty-three!"

"Then we'll have sport, by Jove!" and, as he spoke,
they entered a wide rushy pasture, across which, at some

two or three hundred yards, A and fat Tom were

seen advancing toward them. They had not made three
steps before both dogs stood stiff as stones in the short
grass, where there was not a particle of covert.

"Why, what the deuce is this, Harry?"

"Devil a know know I," responded he; "but step up to
the red dog, Frank — I'll go to the other — they've got
game, and no mistake!"

"Skeap — ske-eap!" up sprang a couple of English snipe
before Shot's nose, and Harry cut them down, a splendid
double shot, before they had flown twenty yards, just as

174 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

Frank dropped the one which rose to him at the same
moment. At the sound of the guns a dozen more rose
hard by, and fluttering on in rapid zig-zags, dropped once
again within a hundred yards — the meadow was alive with
them.

"Did you ever see snipe here before, Tom?" asked
Harry, as he loaded.

"Never in all my life — but it's full now — load up! load
up ! for heaven's sake !"

"No hurry, Tom! Tom — steady! the birds are tame
and lie like stones. We can get thirty or forty here, I know,
if you'll be steady only — but if we go in with these four
dogs, we shall lose all. Here comes Tim with the couples,
and we'll take up all but two !"

"That's right," said A ; "take up Grouse and Tom's

dog, for they won't hunt with yours — and yours are the
steadiest, and fetch — that's it, Tim, couple them, and
carry them away. What have you killed. Archer?" he
added, while his injunctions were complied with.

"One woodcock and a brace of ruffed grouse ! and Frank
has marked down three-and-twenty quail into that rushy
bottom yonder, where we can get every bird of them.
We are going to have great sport to-day!"

"I think so. Tom and I each killed a double shot out
of that bevy!"

"That was well; Now, then, walk slowly and far apart
— we must beat this three or four times, at least — the
dogs will get them up!"

It was not a moment before the first bird rose, but it was
quite two hours, and all the dinner horns had long blown
for noon, before the last was bagged — the four guns hav-
ing scored, in that one meadow, forty-nine English snipe
— fifteen for Harry Archer — thirteen for Tom Draw —
twelve for the Commodore, and only nine for Forester,
who never killed snipe quite so well as he did cock or
quail.

"And now, boys," exclaimed Tom, as he flung his huge
carcass on the ground, with a thud that shook it many
a rod around — "there's a cold roast fowl, and some nice
salt pork and crackers, in that 'ar game bag — and I'm
a whale now, I tell you, for a drink!"

"Which will you take to drink, Tom?" inquired Fores-

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 175

ter, very gravely — "fowl, pork or crackers? Here they are,
all of them! I prefer whiskey and water, myself 1" quali-
fying, as ho spoke, a moderate cup witli some of the ice-
cold water which welled out in a crystal stream from a
small ha sin under tlie wreathed roots of the sycamore
which overshadowed them.

"None of your nonsense. Forester — hand us the liquor,
lad— I'm dry, I tell you!"

"I wish you'd tell me something I don't know, then, if
you feel communicative; for I know that you're dry —
now and alwnys! Weill don't bo mad, old follow, here's
the bottle — don't empty it — that's all!"

"Well! now I've drinked," said Tom, after a vast po-
tation, "now I've drinked g-ood — we'll have a bite and rest
awhile, and smoke a pipe; and then we'll use them quail,
and we'll have time to pick up twenty cock in Hell-hole
afterwards, and that won't be a slow day's work. I reckon."

THE QUAIL.

"Ckrtaixlv this is a very lovely country," exclaimed
the Commodore suddenly, as he gazed with a quiet eye,
puffing his cigar while, over the beautiful vale, with the
clear expanse of Wickham's Pond in the middle fore-
ground, and the wild hoary mountains framing the rich
landscape in the distance.

"Truly, you may say that," replied Harry; " I have
travelled over a large part of the world, and for its own
peculiar style of loveliness, I must say that I never have
seen any thing to match with the vale of Warwick. I
would give much, very much, to own a few acres, and a
snug cottage here, in which I might pass the rest of my
days, far aloof from the

Fumum et opes strepitumque Romse."

"Then, why the h — 1 don't you own a few acres?" put
in ancient Tom; "I'd be right glad to know, and gladder
yit to have you up here. Archer."

"I would indeed, Tom," answered Harry; " I'm not
joking at all; but there are never any small places to be

176 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

bought hereabout; and, as for large ones, your land is so
confounded good, that a fellow must be a nabob to think
of buying."

"Well, how would Jem Burt's place suit you. Archer?"
asked the fat man. "You knows it — jist a mile and a
half 'tother side Warwick, by the crick side? I guess it
will have to be sold anyhow next April; leastways the.
old man's dead and the heirs want the estate settled up
like."

"Suit me!" cried Harry, "by George! it's just the thing,
if I recollect it rightly. But how much land is there?"

"Twenty acres, I guess — not over twenty-five, no how."

"And the house?"

"Well, that wants fixin' some; and the bridge over the
crick's putty bad, too, it will want putty nigh a new one.
Why, the house is a story and a half like; and it's jist an
ep.try stret through the middle, and a parlor on one side
on't, and a kitchen on the t'other; and a chamber behind
both on 'em."

"What can it be bought for, Tom?"

"I guess three thousand dollars; twenty-five hundred,
maybe. It will go cheap, I reckon; I don't hear tell o'
no one lookin' at it."

"What will it cost me more to fix it, think you ?"

"Well, you see. Archer, the land's ben most darned
badly done by, this last three years, since old 'squire's ben
so low; and the bridge, that'll take a smart sum; and the
fences is putty much gone to rack; I guess it'll take hard
on to a thousand more to fix it up right, like you'd like to
have it, without doin' nuthin' at the house."

"And fifteen hundred more for that and the stables. I
wish to heaven I had known this yesterday; or rather
before I came up hither," said Harry.

"Why so?" asked the Commodore.

"Why, as the deuce would have it, I told my broker to
invest six thousand, that I have got loose, in a good
mortgage, if he could find one, for five years; and I have
got no stocks that I can sell out ; all. that I have but this,
is on good bond and mortgage, in Boston, and little enough
of it. too."

"Well, if that's all," said Forester, "we can run down
to-morrow, and you will be in time to stop him."

\varwk:k woodlands. 177

"That's true, too," answered Harry, pondering. "Are
you sure it can be bought, Tom?"

"I guess 30," was the response.

"That means, I suppose, that you're perfectly certain
of it. Why the devil can't you speak English V'

"English!" exclaimed Frank; "Good Lord! why don't
you ask him why he can't speak Greek? English! Lord!
Lord! Lord! Tom Draw and English!"

"I'll jist tell Archer what he wamts to know, and then
see you, my dear little critter, if I doosn't English you
some!" replied the old man, waxing wroth. "Well, Archer,
to tell heaven's truth, now, I doos know it; but it's an
ctarnal all-fired shame of me to be tellin' it, bein' as how
I knows it in the way of business like. It's got to bo
selled by vandoo* in April.

"Then, by Jove! I will buy it," said Harry; "and down
I'll go to-morrow. But that need not take you away, boys;
you can stoy and finish out the week here, and go home
in the lanthe; Tom will send you down to Nyack."

"Sartain," responded Tom ; "but now I'm most darned
glad I told you that, Archer. I meant to a told you on't
afore, but it clean slipped out of my head; but all's right,
now. Hark! hark! don't .you hear, boys? The quails

hasn't all got together yit — better luck ! Hush, A , and

you'll hear them callin' — whew-wheet! whew-wheet! whe-
whe-whe ;" and the old Turk began to call most scientific-
ally; and in ten minutes the birds were answering him
from all quarters, through the circular space of Bog-
meadow, and through the thorny brake beyond it, and
some from a large ragwort field further yet.

"How is this, Frank — did they scatter so much when
they dropped?" asked Harry.

"Yes; part of them 'lighted in the little bank on this
edge, by the spring, you know; and some, a dozen or so,
right in the middle of the bog, by the single hickory;
and five or six went into the swamp, and a few over it."

"That's it! that's it! niid they've been nmning to tr.v
to get together," said the Commodore.

"But was too skeart to call, till we'd quit shootin' !"

*Vendtie. V/hy the French word for a public auction has been
adopted throughout the Northern and Eastern States, as applied to
a Sheriff's ?ale, deponent saith not.

178 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

said Toci. "But come, boys, let's be stirrin', else they'll
git together like; they keeps drawin', drawin', "into one
place now, I can hear."

No sooner said than done; we were all on foot in an
instant, and ten minutes brought us to the edge of the
first thicket; and here was the truth of Harry's precepts
tested by practice in a moment; for they had not yet
entered the thin bushes, on which now the red leaves hung
few and sere, before old Shot threw his nose high into the
air, straightened his neck and his stern, and struck out
at a high trot; the other setter evidently knowing what
he meant, though as yet he had not caught the wind of
them. In a moment they both stood steady; and, almost

at the same instant, Tom Draw's Dash, and A 's

Grouse came to the point, all on different birds, in a bit
of very open ground, covered with wintergreen about knee
deep, and interspersed with only a few scattered bushes.

Whir-r-r — up they got all at once! what a jostle — what
a hubbub! Bang! bang! crack! bang! crack bang! Four
barrels exploded in an instant, almost simultaneously; and
two sharp unmeaning cracks announced that, by some
means or other, Frank Forester's gun had missed fire
with both barrels.

"What the deuce is the matter, boys!" cried Harry,
laughing, as he threw up his gun, after the hubbub had
subsided, and dropped two birds — the only two that fell,
for all that waste of shot and powder.

"What the deuce ails you?" he repeated, no one reply-
ing, and all hands looking bashful and crest-fallen. "Are
you all drunk ? or what is the matter ? I ask merely for
information."

"Upon my life! I believe / am!" said Frank Forester.
"For I have not loaded my gun at all, since I killed those
two last snipe. And, when we got up from luncheon, I
put on the caps just as if all was right — but all is right
now," he added, for he had repaired his fault, and loaded,

before A or fat Tom had done staring, each in the

other's face, in blank astonishment.

"Step up to Grouse, then," said Archer, who had never
taken his eye off the old brown pointer, while he was
loading as fast as he could. "He has got a bird, close

^iM

^■'-'

\VARWH>K WOODLANDS. 179

iinder his nose; and it will pot up, and steal away directly.
That's a trick they will play very often."

"He haint got no bird," said Tom, sulkily. And Frank
paused doubtful.

"Step up, I tell you, Frank," said Harry, "the old
Turk's savage; that's all."

And Frank did step up, close to the dog's nose; and
sent his foot through the grass close under it. Still the
dog stood perfectly stiff; but no bird rose.

"I telled you there wam't no quails there;" growled
Tom.

"And I tell you there are!" answered Archer, more
sharply than he often spoke to his old ally; for, in truth,
he was annoyed at his obstinate pertinacity.

""What do you say. Commodore? Is Grouse lying?
Kick that tussock — kick it hard, Frank."

"Not he," replied A ; "I'll bet fifty to one, there's a

bird there."

"It's devilish odd, then, that he won't get up!" said
Frank.

Whack! whack! and he gave the hard tussock two
kicks with his heavy boot, that fairly made it shake.
Nothing stirred. Grouse still kept his point, but seemed
half inclined to dash in. Whack! a third kick that abso-
lutely loosened the tough hassock from the ground, and
then, whirr-r, from within six inches of the spot where
all three blows had been delivered, up got the bird, in a
desperate hurry; and in quite as desperate a hurry
Forester covered it — covered it before it was six yards
off! His finger was on the trigger, when Harry quietly
said, "Steady, Frank!" and the word acted like magic.

He took the gun quite down from his shoulder, nodded
to his friend, brought it up again, and turned the bird
over very handsomely, at twenty yards, or a little further.

"Beautifully done, indeed, Frank," said Harn.'. "So
much for coolness !"

"What do you say to that, Tom?" said the Commodore,
laughing.

But there was no Inugh in Tom; he only muttered a
savage growl, and an awful imprecation; and Harry's

q\iick glance warned A not to plague the old Trojan

further.

180 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

All this passed in a moment; and then was seen one of
those singular things that will at times happen; but with
regard to quail only, so far as I have ever seen or heard
tell. For as Forester was putting down the card upon
the powder in the barrel which he had just fired, a second
bird arose, almost from the identical spot whence the first
had been so difficultly flushed, and went off in the same
direction. But not in the least was Frank flurried now.
He dropped his ramrod quietly upon the grass, brought
up his piece deliberately to his eye, and killed his bird
again.

"Excellent — excellent! Frank," said Harry again. "I
never saw two prettier shots in all my life. Nor did I
ever see birds lie harder."

During all this time, amidst all the kicking of tussocks,
threshing of bog-grass, and banging of guns, and, worst
of all, bouncing up of fresh birds, from the instant when
they dropped at the first shot, neither one of Harry's aogB,
nor Tom's little Dash, had budged from their down
charge. Now, however, they got up quickly, and soon
retrieved all the dead birds.

"Now, then, we will divide into two parties," said
Harry. "Frank, you go with Tom; and you come with
me. Commodore. It will never do to have you two jealous
fellows together, you won't kill a bird all day," he added,
in a lower voice. "That is the worst of old Tom, when he
gets jealous he's the very devil. Frank is the only fellow
that can get along with him at all. He puts me out of
temper, and if we both got angry, it would be very dis-
agreeable. For, though he is the very best fellow in the
world, when he is in a rage he is untameable. I cannot
think what has put him out, now; for he has shot very
well to-day. It is only when he gets behindhand, that he
is usually jealous in his shooting; but he has got the
deuce into him now."

By this time the two parties were perhaps forty yards
apart, when Dash came to a point again. Up got a single
bird, the old cock, and flew directly away from Tom, across
Frank's face; but not for that did the old chap pause.
Up went his cannon to his shoulder, there was a flash and
a roar, and the quail, which was literally not twelve feet
from him disappeared as if it had been resolved into thin

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 181

air. The whole of Tom's concentrated charge had strucjc
the bird endwise, as it flew from him; and, except the
extreme tips of his wings and one foot, no part of him
could be found.

"The devil !" cried Harry, "that is too bad !"
"Never mind," said the Commodore, "Frank will man-
age him."

As he spoke a second bird got up, and crossed Forester
in the same manner. Draw doing precisely as he had
done before; but, this time, missing the quail clear, whicn
Forester turned over.

"Load quick! and step up to that fellow. He will run,
I think!" said Archer.

"Ay! ay!" responded Frank, and, having rammed down
his charge like lightning, moved forward, before he had
put the cap on the barrel he had fired.

Just as he took the cap out of his pocket between his
finger and thumb, a second quail rose. As cool and self-
possessed as it is possible to conceive, Frank cocked the
left hand barrel with his little finger, still holding the cap
between his forefinger and thumb, and actually contrived
to bring up the gun, some how or other,* and to kill the
bird, pulling the trigger with his middle finger.

At the report a third quail sprang, close under his
feet; and, still unshaken, he capped the right hand barrel,
fired, and the bird towered!

"Mark ! mark ! Tom — ma-ark Timothy !" shouted Harry
and A in a breath.

"That bird is as dead as Hannibal now !" added Archer,
as, having spun up three hundred feet into the air, and
flown twice as many hundred yards, it turned over, and
fell plumb, like a stone, through the clear atmosphere.

"Ayse gotten that chap marked doon raight, ayse war-
rant un !" shouted Timothy from the hill side, where with
some trouble, he was holding in the obstreperous spaniels.
"He's doon in a roight laine atwixt 't muckle gray stean
and yon hoigh ashen tree."

"Did you ever see such admirable shooting, though?"

•If I had not seen the whole of this scene with my eyes, and bad
I not witnesses of the fact, I would scarce dare to relate it. From
the cutting the first bird to atoms, all is strictly true.

18-2 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

asked A , in a low voice. "I did not know Forester

shot like that."

"Sometimes he does. When he's cool. He is not cer-
tain; that is his only fault. One day he is the coolest
man I ever saw in a field, and the next the most impetu-
ous; but when he is cool, he shoots splendidly. As you

say, A , I never saw anything better done in my life.

It was the perfection of coolness and quickness com-
bined."

"I cannot conceive how it was done at all. How he
brought up and fired that first barrel with a cap between
his thumb and forefinger! Why, I could not fire a gun
so, in cold blood!"

"Nor could he, probably. Deliberate promptitude is
the thing! Well, Tom, what do you think of that? Wasn't
that pretty shooting?"

"It was so, pretty shootin'," responded the fat man,
quite delighted out of his crusty mood. "I guess the
darned little critter's got three barrels to his gun some-
how; leastwise it seems to me, I swon, 'at he fired her
off three times without loadin'! I guess I'll quit tryin'
to shoot agin Frank, to-day."

"I told you so!" said Harry to the Commodore, with a
low laugh, and then added aloud — "I think you may as
well, Tom — for I don't believe the fellow will miss an-
other bird to-day."

And in truth, strange to say, it fell out, in reality, near-
ly as Archer had spoken in jest. The whole party shot ex-
ceedingly well. The four birds, which Tom and the Com-
modore had missed at the first start, were found again in
an old ragwort field, and brought to bay; and of the
twenty-three quail which Forester had marked down into
the bog meadow, not one bird escaped, and of that bevy
not one bird did Frank miss, killing twelve, all of them
double shots, to his own share, and beating Archer in a
canter.

But that sterling sportsman cared not a stiver; too
many times by far had he had the field, too sure was he
of doing the same many a time again, to dislike being
1 en ton once. Besides this, he was always the least jealous
shot in the world, for a very quick one; and, in this in-
stance, he wa« perhaps be! tor pleased to see his friend "go

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 183

in and win," than he would have been to do the like
himself.

Exactly at two o'clock, by A 's rei>eater, the last

bird was bagged; making twenty-seven quail, forty-nino
snipe, two ruifed grouse, and one woodcock, bagged in
about five hours.

"So far, this is the very best day's sport I ever saw,"
said Archer; "and two things I have seen which I never
saw before; a whole bevy of quail killed without the
escape of one bird, and a whole bevy killed entirely by

double shots, except the odd bird. You, A , have killed

three double shots — I have killed three — Tom Draw one
double shot, and the odd bird — and Master Frank there,
confound him, six double shots running — the cleverest
thing I ever heard of, and, in Forester's case, the best
shooting possible. I have missed one bird, you two, and
Tom three."

"But Tom beant a goin' to miss no more birds, I can
tell you, boy. Tom's drinked agin, and feels kind o'
righter than he did — kind o' first best! You'd best all
djrink, boys — the spring's handy, close by here; and
after we gits down acrost the road into the big swamp, and
Hell-Hole, there arn't a drop o' water fit to drink, till we
gits way down to Aunt Sally's big spring-hole, jest to
home."

"I second the motion," said Harry; "and then let us be
quick, for the day is wearing away, and we have got a long
beat yet before us. I wish it were a sure one. But it is
not. Once in three or four years we get a grand day's
sport in the big swamp ; but for one good day we have ten
bad ones. However, we are sure to find a dozen birds or
so in Hell-Hole; and a bevy of quail in the Captain's
swamp, shan't we, Tom?"

"Yes, if we gits so far; but somehow or other I rather
guess we'll find quite a smart chance o' cock. Captain
Reed was down there a' Satterday, and he saw heaps on
'em."

"That's no sure sign. They move very quickly now.
Here to-day and there tomorrow," said Archer. "In the
large woods especially. In the small places there are
plenty of sure finds."

"There harn't been nothing of frosts yet keen enough
to stir them," said Tom. "I guess we'll find them. And

184 WARWICK WOODLANDS.

there harn't beeu a gun shot off this three weeks there.
Hoel's wife's ben down sick all the fall, and Halbert's gun
busted in the critter's hand."

"Ah! did it hurt him?"

"Hurt him some — skeart him considerable, though. I
guess he's quit shootin' pretty much. But come — here we
be, boys. I'll keep along the outside, where the walkin's
good. You git next me, and Archer next with the dogs,

and A inside of all. Keep right close to the cedars,

A ; all the birds 'at you flushes will come stret out

this aways. They never flies into the cedar swamp. Archer,
how does the ground look?"

"I never saw it look so well, Tom. There is not near so
much water as usual, and yet the bottom is all quite moist
and soft."

''Then we'll get cock for sartain."

"By George!" cried A , "the ground is like a honey-
comb, with their borings; and as white in places with
their droppings, as if there had been a snow fall !"

"Are they fresh di'oppings, A ?"

"Mark! Ah! Grouse! Grouse! for shame. There he is
down. Do you see him Harry ?"

"Ay ! ay ! Did Grouse flush him ?"

"Deliberately, at fifty yards off. I must lick him."

"Pray do ; and that mercifully."

"And that soundly," suggested Frank, as an improve-
ment.

"Soundly is mercifully," said Harry, "because one good
flogging settles the business; whereas twenty slight ones
only harass a dog, nnd do nothing in the way of correction
or prevention."

"True, oh king !" said Frank, laughing. "Now let us go
on; for, ns the bellowing of that brute is over, I suppose
•chastisement has hidden her head.' "

And on they did go ; and sweet shooting they had of it ;
all the way flown to the thick deep spot, known by the
pleasing sobriquet of Hell-Hole.

The birds were scattered everywhere throughout the
swamp, so excellent was the condition of the ground;
scattered so much, that, in no instance did two rise at
once; but one kept flapping up after another, large and
lazy, at every few paces: and the sportsmen scored them
fast, although scarcely aware how fast they were killing

WARWICK WOODLANDS. 185

them. At length, when they reached the old creek-side, and
the deep black mudholes, and the tangled vines and leafy
alders, there was, as usual, a quick, sharp, and decisive
rally. Before the dogs were thrown into it, Frank was
sent forward to the extreme point, and the Commodore
out into the open field, on the opposite side from that oc-
cupied by fat Tom.

On the signal of a whistle, from each of the party, Harry
drove into the brake with the spaniels, the setters being
now consigned to the care of Timothy; and in a moment,
his loud "Hie cock! Hie cock! Pur-r-r — Hie cock! good
dogs !" was succeeded by the shrill yelping of the cockers,
the flap of the fast rising birds, and the continuous rat-
tling of shots.

In twenty minutes the work was done; and it was well
that it was done; for, within a quarter of an hour after-
wards, it was too dark to shoot at all.

In that last twenty minutes twenty-two cock were actu-
ally brought to bag, by the eight barrels ; twenty-eight had
been picked up, one by one, as they came down the long
swamp, and one Harry had killed in the morning. When
Timothy met them, with the horses, at the big oak tree,
half an hour afterward — for he had gone off across the
fielcis, as hard as he could foot it to the farm, as soon as he
had received the setters — it was quite dark; and the friends
had counted their game out regularly, and hung it up
secundum artem in the loops of the new game bag.

It was a huge day's sport — a day's sport to talk about
for years afterward — Tom Draw does talk about it now !

Fifty-one woodcock, forty-nine English snipe, twenty-
seven quail, and a brace of ruffed grouse. A hundred
and twenty-nine head in all, on unpreserved ground, and
in very wild walking. It is to be feared it will never be
done any more in the vale of Warwick. For this, alas!
was ten years ago.

When they reached Tom's it was decided that they
should all return home on the morrow; that Harry should
attend to the procuring his purchase money; and Tom to
the cheapening of the purchase.

In addition to this, the old boy swore, by all his patron
saints, that he would come down in spring, and have a
touch at the snipe he had heerd Archer tell on at Pine
Brook.

186 WARWICK SVOODLAKDS.

A capital supper followed; and of course lota of good
liquor, and the toast, to which the last cup was quaffed, was

LONG LIFE TO HARRY ARCHER, AND LUCK TO HIS SHOOTING BOX.

to which Frank Forester added

"I wish he may get it."

And 80 that party ended; all of its members hoping to
enjoy many more like it, and that very speedily.

TOM DRAW'S VISIT TO PINE BROOK

. THE SPORTSMAN'S SPREAD.

The long cold winter had passed away and been succeed-
ed by the usual alternations of damp sloppy thaws, and
piercing eastern gales, which constitute a North American
Spring; and now the croaking of the bvill-frogs, heard
from every pool and puddle, the bursting buds of the
young willows, and, above all, the appearance of Shad
in market, announced to the experienced sportsman, the
arrival of the English Snipe upon the marshes. For some
days Harry Archer had been busily employed in overhaul-
ing his shooting apparatus, exercising his setters, watch-
ing every change of wind, and threatening a speedy ex-
pedition into the meadows of New Jersey, so soon as three
days of easterly rain should be followed by mild weather
from the southward. Anxiously looked for, and long de-
sired, at last the eastern storm set in, cold, chilling, misty,
with showers of smoky driving rain, and Harry for two
entire days had rubbed his hands in ecstacy; while Tim-
othy stood ever in the stable door — his fists plunged deep
in the recesses of his breeches' pockets, and a queer smile
illuminating the honest ugliness of his bluH visage — pa-
tiently watching for a break in the dull clouds — his har-
ness hanging the while in readiness for instant use, with
every crest and turret as bright as burnished gold; his
wagon all prepared, with bear-skins and top-coats dis-
played ; and his own kit packed up in prompt anticipation
of the first auspicious moment. The third dark morning
had dawned dingily; the rain still drifted noiselessly
against the windows, while gutters overflowed, and ken-
nels swollen into torrents announced its volume and dura-
tion. There was not then the least temptation to stir out
of doors, and, sulky myself, I was employed in coaxing
a sulky cigar beside a yet more sulky fire, with an empty

188 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

coffee-cup and a large quarto volume of Froiasart upon
the table at my elbow, when a quick cheery triple rap at
the street door announced a visitor, and was succeeded
instantly by a firm rapid footstep on the stairs, accom-
panied by the multitudinous pattering and whimpering of
spaniels. Without the ceremony of a knock the door flew
open ; and in marched, with his hat on one side, a dirty
looking letter in his hand, and Messrs. Dan and Flash at
his heel, the renowned Harry Archer.

"Here's a lark, Frank," exclaimed that worthy, pitching
the billet down upon the table, and casting himself into
an armchair: "Old Tom is to be here to-day to dinner,
and wants to go with us to the snipe meadow. So we will
dine, if it so please you, at my house at three — I have in-
vited Mac to join us — and start directly after for Pine
Brook."

"The devil!" I responded, somewhat energetically;
"what, in this rain ?"

"Rain — yes, indeed. The wind has hauled already to
the westward of the south, and we shall have a starlight
night, and a clear day tomorrow, and grand sport, I'll
warrant you ! Rain — yes ! I'm glad it ctoes rain ; it will
keep cockney gunners off the meadows."

"But will Tom really be here? How do you. know it?
Have you seen him ?"

"Read — read, man !" he responded, lighting a while a
dark cheroot, and lugging out my gun-case to inspect its
traps. And I in due obedience took up the billet-doux,
which had produced this notable combustion. It was a
thin, dirty, oblong letter, written across the lines upon
ruled paper, with a pencil, wafered, and stamped with a
key, and bearing in round school-boy characters the fol-
lowing direction : —

tor Mr. Harrye Archere Newe Yorke Bsqre
69 Merceye streete

Internally it ran—

Olde triende

bsviu to git some grocerees down to Yorke, I
reckons to quit here on Satterdaye, and so be i can fix it counts to
see you tewsdaye for sartain. quaile promises to be considerable
plentye, and coeke has come on most ongodly thlcke, i was down to
Sam Blalnses one night a fortnite since and heerd a heape on them
a drummlnge and chatteringe every wheres round aboute. if snipes is

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. ^89

come on ylt i reckon i could git awaye a daye or soe down into
Jaraey ways — no more at preasente from

ever youre old (rlende

Thomas Drawe
i shall look in at Merceye streete bout three oclocke dinner time i
guesse.

"Well! that matter seems to be settled," answered I,
when I had finished the perusal of this most notable
epistle. "I suppose he will be here to the fore!"

"Sartain!" responded Archer, grinning; "and do you
for once, if possible — which I suppose it is not — be in
time for dinner; I will not wait five minutes, and I shall
give you a good feed; pack up your traps, and Tim shall
call for them at two. We dine at three, mind ! Start from
my door at half-past five, so as to get across in the six
o'clock boat. Hard will be looking out for us, I know,
about this time, at Pine Brook; and we shall do it easy
in three hours, for the roads will be heavy. Come along,
dogs. Good bye, Frank. Three o'clock! now don't be
late, there's a good lad. Here Flash! here Dan!" and
gathering his Macintosh about him, exit Harry.

Thereupon to work I went with a will; rummaged up
gun, cleaning-rod, copper-caps, powder-horns, shot-punch,
and all the et ceteras of shooting, which — being always
stowed away with so much care at the end of one season,
that they are undiscoverable at the beginning of the next —
are sources of eternal discomfiture to those most all-
accomplished geniuses, high sportsmen's servants : got out
and greased my fen boots with the fit admixture of tal-
low, tar, beeswax, and Venice turpentine; hunted up
shooting- jacket, corduroys, plaid waistcoat, and check
shirts ; and, in fact, perpetrated the detested task of pack-
ing, barely in time for Timothy, who, as he shouldered my
portmanteau, and hitched up the waistband of his Qwn
most voluminous unmentionables, made out in the midst
of grins and nods, and winks, to deliver himself to the
following effect —

"Please, sur, measter says, if you ple-ase to moind three
o't clock — for he'll be dommed, he said, please Measter
Forester, av he waits haaf a minit — "

"Very well, Tim, very well— that'll do— I'll be ready."
"And Measter Draw be coom'd tew — nay but Ay do
think 'at he's fatter noo than iver — ecod, Ayse laflF to

190 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

see him doon i' t' mossy meadows laike — he'll swear, Ayse
warrant him,"

And with a burst of merriment, that no one pair of
mortal lips save Timothy's alone could ever have accom-
plished, he withdrew, leaving: me to complete my toilet;
in which, believe me, gentle reader, mindful of a good
feed, and of short law, I made no needless tarrying.

The last stroke of the hour appointed had not yet
stricken when I was on the steps of Harry's well-known
snug two-storied domicile; in half a minute more I was
at my ease in his study, where, to my no small wonder, 1
found myself alone, with no other employment than to
survey, for the nine hundredth time, the adornments of
that exquisite model for that most snug of all things, a
cozy bachelor's peculiar snuggery. It was a small back
room, with two large windows looking out upon a neatly
trimmed grass-plat bordered with lilacs and laburnums;
its area, of sixteen feet by fourteen, was strewn with a
rich Turkey carpet, and covered with every appurtenance
for luxury and comfort that could be brought into its
limits without encumbering its brief dimensions. A bright
steel grate, with a brillant fire of Cannel coal, occupied
the centre of the south side, facing the entrance, while a
superb book-case and secretaire of exquisite mahogany
filled the recess on either hand of it, their glass doors
showing an assortment, handsomely bound, of some eight
hundred volumes, classics, and history, and the gems of
modern poesie and old romance. Above the mantel-piece,
where should have hung the mirror, was a wide case,
covering the whole front of the pier, with doors of plate
glass, through which might be discovered, supported on a
rack of ebony, and set off by a background of rich crim-
son velvet, the select armory, prized above all his earthly
goods by their enthusiastic owner — consisting of a choice
pair of twin London-made double-barrels, a short splendid-
ly finished once-ball rifle, a heavy single pigeon gun, a
pair of genuine Kuchenreuter's nine-inch duelling pistols,
and a smaller pair by Joe Manton, for the belt or pocket —
all in the most perfect order, and ready for immediate use.
Facing this case upon the opposite wall, along the whole
length of which ran a divan, or wide low sofa, of crimson
damask, hung two oil paintings, originals by Edward
Landseer. of dogs — hounds, terriers, and all, in fact, of

TOM draw's visit TO PINK BROOK. 191

canine race, mongrels of low degree alone excepted — under
these were susi>ended, upon brackets, two long duck guns,
and an array of tandem and four-horse whips, besides two
fly-rods, and a cherry-stick Persian pipe, ten feet at least
in length. The space between the windows was occupied
by two fine engravings, one of the Duke of Wellington,
the other of Sir Walter in his study — Harry's political
and literary idols ; a library centre table, with an inkstand
of costly huhl, covered with periodicals and papers, and
no less than four sumptuous arm-chairs of divers forms
and patterns, completed the appointments of the room;
but the picture still would be incomplete, were I to pass
over a huge tortoise-shell Tom Cat, which dozed upon the
rug in amicable vicinity to our old friends the spaniels
Dan and Flash. It did not occupy me quite so long to
take a survey of these well-remembered articles, as it has
done to describe them ; nor, in fact, had that been the case,
should I have found the time to reconnoitre them; for
scarcely was I seated by the fire, before the ponderous
trampling of Old Tom might be heard on the stair-case,
as in vociferous converse with our host he came down
from the chamber, wherein, by some strange process of
persuasion assuredly peculiar to himself, Harry had forced
him to go through the ceremony of ablution, previous to
his attack upon the viands, which were in truth not likely
to be dealt with more mercifully in consequence of this
delay. Another moment, and they entered — ^'Arcades
a mho" duly rigged for the occasion — Harry in his neat
claret-colored-jockycoat, white waistcoat, corduroys, and
gaiters — Tom in Canary-colored vest, sky-blue dress coat
with huge brass buttons, gray kerseymere unmentionables,
with his hair positively brushed, and his broad jolly face
clean shaved, and wonderfully redolent of soap and water.
The good old soul's face beamed with unfeigned delight,
and grasping me affectionately by the hand —

"How be you ?" he exclaimed — "How be you. Forester —
you looks well, anyways."

"Why, I am well, Tom," responded I, "but I shall be
better after I've had that drink that Archer's getting ready
— you're dry, I fancy — "

"Sartain!" was the expected answer: and in a moment
the pale Amontillado sherry and the bitters were paraded
— but no such darned washy stuff, as he termed it, would

192 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

the old Trojan look at, much less taste; and Harry was
compelled to produce the liquor stand, well stored with
potent waters, when at the nick of time McTavish entered
in full fig for a regular slap-up party, not knowing at
all whom he had been asked to meet. INot the least
discomposed, however, that capital fellow was instantly
at home, and as usual, up to every sort of fun.

"What, Draw," said he, "who the devil thought of see-
ing you here — when did you come down? Oh! the dew,
certainly," he continued, in reply to Archer, who was
pressing a drink on him — "the mountain dew for me —
catch a Highlander at any other dram, when Whasky's to
the fore— ay, Tom?"

"Catch you at any dram, exceptin' that what's strongest.
See to him now!" as Mae tossed off his modicum, and
smacked his lips approvingly; "see to him now! I'd jist
as lief drink down so much fire, and he pours it in — pours
it in, jist like as one it was mother's milk to the darned
critter."

"Ple-ase Sur, t' dinner's re-ady," announced Timothy,
throwing open the folding doors, and displaying the front
room, with a beautiful fire blazing, and a good old fash-
ioned round table, covered with exquisite white damask-
linen, and laid with four covers, each flanked by a most
unusual display of glasses — a mighty bell-mouthed rum-
mer, namely, on a tall slender stock with a white spiral
line running up through the centre, an apt substitute
for that most awkward of all contrivances, the ordinary
champagne glass — a beautiful green hock goblet, with a
wreath of grapes and vine leaves wrought in relief about
the rim — a massy water tumber elaborately diamond-cut —
and a capacious sherry-glass so delicate and thin that the
slender crystal actually seemed to bend under the pressure
of your lip; nor, were the liquors wanting in proportion^
two silver wine-coolors, all frosted over with the exuda-
tions from the ice within, displayed the long necks of a
champagne flask and a bottle of Johannisbergher, and
four decanters hung out their labels of Port, Madeira,
brown Sherry, and Amontillado — while two or three black,
copper-wired bottles, in the chimney-corner, announced a
stock of heavy-wet, for such as should incline to malt. I
had expected from Tom's lips some preternatural burst of
wonder, at this display of preparation, the like of which.

TOM draw's visit TO PINE RROOK. 193

as I conceived, had never met liis eyes before — but, whether
he had been indoctrinated bj'^ previous feeds at Harry's
hospitable board, or had learned by his own native wit
the difficult lesson of nil admirari, he sat down without any
comment, thoug'h he stared a little wildly, when he saw
nothing eatable upon the table, except a large dish of
raw oysters, flanked by a lemon and a cruet of cayenne.
With most ineffable disdain, he waved off the plate which
Tim presented to him, with a "Consam you, I arnt a goin
to give my belly cold with no such chillin' stuff as that.
I'd like to know now. Archer, if this bees all that you're
a goin' to give us — for if so be it is, I'll go stret down to
the nigger's yonder, and git me a beef steak and onions?"
"Why, not exactly, Tom," responded Archer, when he
could speak for laughing — "these are merely for a whet to
give us an appetite."

"A blamed queer sort of wet, I think — why I'd have
thought that ere rum, what McTavish took, would have
been wet enough, till what time as you got at the cham-
pagne— and, as for appetite, I reckon now a man whose
guts is always cravin — cravin — like yours be, had better a
taken somethin' dry to keep it down like, than a wet to
moisten it up more."

By this time, the natives, which had so moved Tom's
indignation, were succeeded by a tureen of superb mutton
broth, to which the old man did devote himself most
assiduously, while Mac was loud in approbation of the
brouse, saying it only wanted bannocks to be i>erfection.

"Cuss you, you're niver satisfied, you aint," Tom had
commenced, when he was cut short by *'The Sherry round
— Tim" — from our host — "you'd better take the brown,
Tom, it's the strongest !" The old man thrust his rummer
forth, as being infinitely the biggest, and — Timothy per-
sisting in pouring out the strong and fruity sherry into
the proper glass — hurst out again indignantly —

"I'd be pleased to know. Archer, now, why you puts big
glasses on the table, if you don't mean they should be
drinked out of — to tantalize a chap, I reckon" — down
went the wine at one gulp, and the exquisite aroma con-
quered— he licked his lips, sighed audibly, smiled, grinned,
then laughed aloud. "I see — I see," he said at last; "you
reckon it's too prime to be drinked out of big ones —
and I dun' know but what you're right too — but what on

194 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

airthe is we to drink out of these — not water, that I
know! leastways, I uiver see none in this house, no how."

"The green one is for brandy, Tom!" McTavish an-
swered.

"Ey, ey!" Tom interrupted him, "and they makes them
green, I guess, so as no one shall see how much a body
takes — now that's what I does call geiiteel !"

"And this large pFain one," added Mac, looking as
grave as a judge, and lifting one of the huge champagne
glasses — "is a dram glass for drinking Scotch whiskey —
what they call in the Highlands a thimblefuU — "

"They take it as a medicine there, you see Tom," con-
tinued Archer; "a preventive to a disease well known in
those parts, called the Scotch fiddle — did you ever hear
of it?"

"Carnt say," responded Tom; "what like is't?"

"Oh, Mac will tell you, he suffers from it sadly — didn't
you see him tuck in the specific — it was in compliment to
him I had the thimbles set out to-day."

"Oh! that's it, ay?" the fat man answered. "Well, I
don't care if I do" — in answer to Harry's inquiry whether
he would take some boiled shad, which, with caper sauce,
had replaced the soup — "I don't care if I do — shads isn't
got to Newburgh yet, leastways, I harnt seen none — "

Well might he say that, by the way, for they had scarce
appeared in New York, and were attainable now only at
the moderate rate of something near their weight in silver.
After the fish, a dram of Ferintosh was circulated in one
small glass, exquisitely carved into the semblance of a
thistle, which Draw disposed of with no comment save a
passing wonder that when men could get applejack, they
should be willing to take up with such smoky trash as
that.

A saddle of roast mutton, which had been hanging,
Harry said, six weeks, a present from that excellent good
fellow, the Captain of the Swallow, followed, and with it
came the splitcorks — "By heavens," I cried, almost in-
voluntarily— "what a superb champagne" — suffering, after
the interjection, something exceeding half a pint of that
delicious, dry, high-flavored, and rich-bodied nectar, to
glide down my gullet.

"Yes" — answered Harry — "yes — alack! that it should
be the last ! This is the last but one of the first importa-

To>f draw's visit to pi\f. brook. 195

tion of the Crown — no such wine ever came before into
this country, no such has followed it. We shall discuss
the brace to-day — what better opportunity? Here is Mc-
Tavish, its originator, the best judge in the land ! Frank
Forester, who has sipped of the like at Crockie's, and a
place or two beside, which we could mention — myself, who
am not slow at any decent tipple, and Thomas Draw, who
knows it, I suppose, from Jarsey Cider!"

"Yes, and I knows it from the Jarsey champagne tew —
which you stick into poor chaps, what you fancies doesn't
know no better — give me some more of that ere mutton
and some jelly — you are most darned sparin' of your jelly
now — and Timothy, you snoopin rascal, fill this ere
thimbleful agin with that Creawn wine!"

Wild fowl succeeded, cooked to a turn, hot claret didy
qualified with cayenne in a sauce-boat by their side —
washed down by the last flask of Mac's champagne, of
which the last round we qualified sorrowfully, as in duty
bound, to the importer's health, and to the memory of the
crowned head departed — the only crown, as Harry in his
funeral oration, truly and pithily observed, which gives
the lie to the assertion that "uneasy lies the head that
wears a crown."

No womanish display of pastry marred the unity of this
most solemn masculine repast, a Stilton cheese, a red her-
ring, with Goshen butter, pilot bread, and porter, con-
cluded the rare banquet. A plate of devilled biscut, and a
magnum of Latonr, furnished forth the dessert, which we
discussed right jovially; while Timothy, after removing
Harry's guns from their post of honor above the mantel-
piece to their appropriate cases, stole away to the stable
to prepare his cattle.

"Now, boys," said Harry, "make the most of your time.
There is the claret, the best in my opinion going — for I
have always prized Mac's black-sealed Latour far above
Lynch's Margaux — yes, even above that of '25. For
Lynch's wine, though exquisitely delicate, was perilous
thin; I never tasted it without assenting to Serjeant
Bothwell's objection, 'Claret's ower cauld for my stamach,'
and desiring like him to qualify it 'wi' a tass of eau di vie.'
Now this wine has no such fault, it has a body — "

"I don't know, Archer," interrupted Tom, "what that
ere sarjeant meant with his darned o di vee, but I know

196 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

now that I'd a cussed sight rayther have a drink o' brandy,
or the least mite of applejack, than a whole keg of
this red rot-gut !"

"You've hit the nail on the head, Tom," answered I,
while Harry, knowing the old man's propensities, marched
off in search of the liquor-stand — "It was brandy that the
Serjeant meant!"

"Then why the thunder didn't he say brandy, like a man
— instead of coming out with his snivelling o di veef"

"Why, Tom," said I, in explanation, "he admired your
favorite drink so much, that he used the French name as
most complimentary; it means water of life!"

"What, he watered it too, did he ? I thought he must be
a darned poor drinkin' man, to call things out of their
right names — precious little of the raal stuff he ever
drinked, I reckon, watered or not — o di vee ! Cuss all
such Latin trash, says I. But here 't comes. Take a drop,
doo, McTavish, it's better fifty times, and healthier tew,
than that eternal darned sour old vinegar, take a drop,
doo!"

"Thank you, no," answered McTavish, well contented
with his present beverage, and after a pause went on ad-
dressing Archer — "I wish to heaven you'd let me know
what you were up to — I'd have gone along."

"What hinders you from going now?" said Harry. "I
can rig you out for the drive, and we can stop at the
Carlton, and get your gun, and the rest of your traps. I
wish to the Lord you would !"

"Oh! oh!" Tom burst out, on the instant, "oh! oh! I
won't go, sartain, less so be McTavish concludes on going
tew — we cam't do nothing without him."

It was in vain, however, that we all united in entreating
him to go along — he had business to do to-morrow — he
was afraid of getting his feet wet, and fifty other equally
valid excuses, till Harry exclaimed — "It's no use, I can teU
you Donald's bluid's up, and there's an end of it — "

Whereat McTavish laughed, and saying that he did not
think, for a very short-sighted man, snipe-shooting up to
his waist in water, and up to his knees in mud, was the
great thing it is cracked up to be, filled himself a pretty
sufficient dose of hot toddy, and drank to our good luck.
Just at this moment, up rattled, ready packed, with the

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. 197

dogs in. the grun-cases stowed, and store of topcoats, capes,
and bear-skins, all displayed, the wagon to the door.

"I need not tell you, Mae," cried Archer, as he wrung
the gallant Celt by the hand, "to make yourself at home —
we must be off, you know;" — then opening the window,
"hand in those coats, Timothy, out of that drizzling rain
— I thought you had more sense."

"Nay, then, they're no but just coom fra under t'
approns," responded Tim, not over and above delighted at
the reflection on his genius — "they're droy as booans,
Ayse warrant um."

"Well ! hand them in then — hand them^ in — where's your
coat, Tom? — that's it; now look here, buckle on this crape
of mine over your shoulders, and take this India-rubber
hood, and tie it over your hat, and you may laugh at four-
and twenty -hours' rain, let alone two. You have got tog-
gery enough, Frank, I conclude — so here goes for myself."
Wliereupon he indued, first a pea-jacket of extra pilot-
cloth, and a pair of English mud-boots, buttoning to the
mid-thigh; and, above these, a regular box coat of stout
blue dreadnought, with half a dozen capes; an oil-skin
covered hat, with a curtain to protect his neck and ears,
fastening with a hook and eye under the chin, completing
his attire. In we got, thereupon, without more ado. My-
self and Timothy, with the two setters, in the box-seat
behind, the leathern apron unrolled and Wttoned up, over
a brace of buffalo robes, hairy side inward, to our middles
— Harry and Tom in front, with one superb black bear-
skin drawn up by a ring and strap to the centre of the
back rail between them, and the patent water-proof apron
hooked up to either end of the seat — the effeminacy of
umbrellas we despised — our cigars lighted, and our bodies
duly muffled up, off we went, at a single chirrup of our
driver, whose holly four-horse whip stood in the socket by
his side unheeded, as with his hands ungloved, and his
beautiful, firm, upright seat upon the box, he wheeled off
at a gentle trot, the good nags knowing their master's
hand and voice, as well as if they had been his children,
and obeying them far better.

Our drive, it must be admitted, through the heavy rain
was nothing to brag of. Luckily, however, before we had
got over much more than half our journey, the storm grad-
ually ceased, as the night fell ; and, by the time we reached

198 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

the big swamp, it was clear all over the firmament; with a
dark, dark blue sky, and millions of stars twinkling gayly
— and the wind blowing freshly but pleasantly out of the
nor-norwest !

"Did I not tell you so, boys?" exclaimed Archer, joy-
ously pointing with his whip to the bright skies — "we'll
have a glorious day to-morrow." Just as he spoke, we
reached the little toll-gate by the Morris Canal; and, as
we paused to change a fifty cent piece, what should we
hear, high in air, rapidly passing over our heads, but the
well-known "skeap! sheapf" the thin shrill squeak of un-
numbered snipe, busy in their nocturnal voyage; and with-
in an hour thereafter we arrived at our journey's end,
where a glass all round of tip-top champagne brandy — a
neat snug supper of capital veal cutlets, ham and eggs, and
pork steaks and sausages, finished the day, and tired
enough, we went to bed early and dreamed.

THE SNIPE.

"What sort of a morning is it, Timothy?" asked I, rub-
bing my eyes, as I sat bolt upright in bed on the irruption
of that fidus Achates, some half hour before sunrise, into
my little dormitory "What sort of a morning is it?"

"A varry bonny mornin, Measter Frank," responded he;
"there was a leetle tooch o' whaite frost aboot midnaight,
but sin' t' moon set, there's been a soop o' warm ra-ain,
and it's dool noo, and saft loike, wi' t' wind sootherlj- —
but it's boon to be nooght at all, Ayse warrant it. T'
Soon'll be oot enoo — see if he beant — and t'snaipe '11 laie
laike steens. Ayse awa noo, and fetch t' hot watter — t'
veal cootlets is i' t' pann, and John Van Dyne he's been
a wa-aiting iver sin 't got laight."

"That's not very long, then," answered I, springing out
of bed, "at all events; for it's as dark as pitch now; bring
me a candle, I can't shave by this light ; there ! leave the
door into the parlor open, and tell John to come in and
amuse me while I'm shaving. Is Mr. Archer up V'

"Oop? Weel Ay wot he is oop; and awa wi' Measter
Draa, and t'lang goons, doon to t' brigg ; to watch t' dooeks
flay, but Van Dyne says t' dooeks has dean flayinar."

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. 199

"Yes, yes — they'se quit sartain," answered a nif^rry
voice without, and in stalked John, tlie best fowl-shot, the
best snipe-marker, the best canoe-paddler, and the best
fellow every way, in New Jersey.

"How are you, John? — any birds on the Piece?"

"Nicely!" he answered, to my first query — "nicely," —
shaking me warmly by the hand, and, after a pause, added,
"I can't say as there be; the Piece is too wet altogether!"

"Too wet— aye? that's bad, John!"

"Lord, yes — too wet entirely; I was half over it with the
canoe last week, and didn't see — no not half a dozen, and
they was round the edges like, where there wasn't no
good lying; there was a heap o' yellow legs, though, and
a smart chance o' plover."

"Oh, hang the plover, John; but shall we find no snipe?"

"Not upon either of the Pieces, no how — but there was
heaps of them a flyin' over all last night; yes! yes! I
guess Archer and I can fix it so as we'll get a few — but, do
tell, who's that darned fat chap as I see goin' down — "

ITc-ie he was interrupted by the distant report of a heavy
gun, followed almost upon the instant by a second.

"Ding!" he exclaimed, "but there's a flight now! arn't
there? I guess now, Mr. Forester, I'd as well jist run
down with old Shot, leastwise he'll fetch um, if so be
they've fallen in the water."

"Do! do!" cried I, "by all means, John; and tell them
to come back directly; for half the breakfast's on the
t'lt'le. i;nd I'll be ready by the time they're here."

By tht time I had got my jacket on, and while I wtis
in the act of pulling up my long fen boots before the
cheerful fire, I perceived by the clack of tongues without,
that the sportsmen had returned; and the next moment
Harry entered, accompanied by Fat Tom in his glory,
with no less than two couple and a half of that most
beautiful and delicate of wild-fowl, the green-winged teal.

"That's not so bad, Frank," exclaimed Harry, depositing,
as he spoke, his heavy single-barrel in the chimney-corner,
and throwing himself into an arm-chair; "that's not so
bad for ten minutes' work, is it?"

"Better, a darned sight," Tom chimed in, "than layin
snoozin till the sun is high; but that's the way with these
etamal drinkin men, they does keep bright just so long
as they keeps a liquorin; but when that's done with, you

200 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

don't hear nothin more of them till noon, or arter. Cuss
all sich drunken critters."

"That's a devilish good one," ansv^ered I; "the deuce a
one of you has shaved, or for that matter, washed his face,
to the best of my belief ; ancf then, because you tximble out
of bed like Hottentots, and rush out, gun in hand, with all
the accumulated filth of a hard day's drive, and a long
night's sweat, reeking upon you, you abuse a Christian
gentleman, who gets up soberly, and dresses himself de-
cently— for idleness and what not!"

"Soberly!" answered Tom; — "Soberly! Jest hear, now
Harry, — Soberly ! — jest like as though he hadn't a had his
bitters, and blamed hitter bitters, too !"

"Not a drop, upon honor," I replied; "not a drop
this morning."

"What? — oh! oh! that's the reason, then, why you're so
'tarnal cross. Here, landlord, bring us in them cider
sperrits — I hamt had only a small taste myself — ^take a
drink, Frank, and you'll feel slick as silk torights, I tell
you."

"Thank you, no!" said I, falling foul of the veal cutlets
delicately fried in batter, with collops of ham interspersed,
for which my worthy host is justly celebrated — "thank you,
no! bitters are good things in their way, but not when
breakfast treads so close upon the heels of them !"

"Tak a soop, Measter Frank — tak a soop, sur!" ex-
horted Timothy, who was bearing around a salver laden
with tumblers, the decanter gracing his better hand. "Tak
a soop, thou'lt be all t' betther for't enoo. Measter Draa
's i' t' roight o' 't. It's varry good stooff Ay'se oophaud it."

"I don't doubt that at all, Tim; natheless I'll be excused
just now."

I was soon joined at the table by the fat man and
Archer, who were so busily employed in stowing away
what Sir Dugald Dalgetty terms provant, that few words
passed between us. At length when the furor edendi
was partially suppressed : "Now then, John," said Harry,
"we are going to be here two days — to-morrow, that is, and
to-day — what are we to beat, so as to get ground for both
days? Begin with the long meadow, I suppose, and beat
the vlies toward the small piece home, and finish here
before the door."

"That's it, I reckon," answered the jolly Dutchman,

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. 201

"but you knows pretty nigh as well as I can tell you.'

"Bettor, John, better, if I knew exactly how the ground
was — but that will be the driest, won't it?"

"Savtain," replied the other, "but we'll get work enough
without beating the ground hereaways before the house;
we'll keep that to begin upon to-morrow, and so follow
up the big meadow, and to Loises, and all along under
the widow Mulford's, if it holds dry to-day; and some-
how now I kind o' guess it will. There'll be a heap o'
birds there by to-mofrow — they were a-flyn' cur'ous, now,
last night, I tell you."

"Well, then, let us be moving. Where's the game-
bag, Timothy ? give it to John ! Is the brandy bottle in
it, and the luncheon ? hey ?"

"Ay, ay! Sur!" answered Tim; "t' brandy 's t' big
wicker bottle, wi' t' tin cup — and soom cauld pork and
crackers 'i 't gam bag — and a spare horn of powder, wi'
a pund in 't. Here, tak it, John Van Dyne, and mooch
good may't do ye — and — baud a bit, man! here's t' dooble
shot belt, sling it across your shoulder, and awa wi' yoii."

Everything being now prepared, and having ordered din-
ner to be in readiness at seven, we lighted our cigars and
started; Harry, with the two setters trotting steadily at
his heels, and his gim on his shoulder, leading the way at
a step that would have cleared above five miles an hour,
I following at my best pace, Tom Draw puffling and blow-
ing like a grampus in shoal water, and John Van Dyne
swinging along at a queer loping trot behind me. We
crossed the bridges and the causeway by which we had
arrived the previous night, passed through the toll-gate,
and, turning short to the right hand, followed a narrow
sandy lane for some three quarters of a mile, till it turned
ofF abruptly to the left, crossing a muddy streamlet by a
small wooden bridge. Here Harry paused, flung the
stump of his cheroot into the ditch, and dropping the butt
of his gun, began very quietly to load, I following his
example without saying a word.

"Here we are, Frank," said he ; "this long stripe of rushy
fields, on both sides of the ditch, is what they call the
long meadow, and rare sport have I had on it in my day,
but I'm afraid it's too wet now — we'll soon see, though,"
and he strode across the fence, and waved the dogs off to
the right and left. "You take the right hand, Frank ; and

202 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

Tom, keep you the ditch bank, all the way ; the ground is
firmest there; we've got the wind in our favor; a little
farther ofF, Frank, they won't lie hard for an hour or
two, at all events ; and I don't believe we shall find a bird
before we cross the next fence."

Heads up and stems down, oflF raced the fleet setters,
beating the meadows fairly from the right hand fence to
the ditch, crossing each other in mid course, and quarter-
ing the ground superbly — but nothing rose before them,
nor did their motions indicate the slightest taint of scent
upon the dewy herbage. The ground, however, contrary
to Harry's expectations, was in prime order — loose, loamy,
moist, black soil, with the young tender grass of spring
shooting up everywhere, bright, succvdent and sweet; tall
tufts of rushes here and there, and patches of brown flags,
the reliques of the by-gone year, affording a sure shelter
for the timid waders. The day was cool and calm, with
a soft mellow light — for the sun was curtained, though
not hidden, by wavy folds of gauze-like mist — and a deli-
cious softness in the mild western breeze, before which
we were wending our way, as every one who would bag
snipe J must do, down wind. We crossed the second fence;
the ground was barer, wetter, splashy in places, and much
poached by the footsteps of the cattle, which had been
pastured there last autumn. See, the red dog has turned
off at a right angle from his course ; he lifts his head high,
straightens his neck and snuffs the air slackening his
pace to a slow, guarded trot, and waving his stern gently —
Chase sees him, pauses, almost backs!
"Look to, Frank — there's a bird before him !"
Skeap ! skeap ! skeap ! — up they jumped eighty yards off
at the least, as wild as hawks; skimming the surface of
the meadow, and still by their shrill squeak calling up
other birds to join them till seven or eight were on the
wing together; then up they rose clearly defined against
the sky, and wheeled in short zigzags above the plain, as if
uncertain whither they should fly, till at length they
launched off straight to the right hand, and after a flight
of a full mile, pitched suddenly and steeply down behind
a clump of newly budding birches.

"I knows where them jokers be, Mr. Archer;" ex-
claimed Van Dyne.

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. 203

"In heaven, I guess they be," responded Master Draw;
"leastwise they flew far enough to be there, anyhow !"

"No! no! Tom, they've not gone so very far," said
Archer, "and there's good lying for them there, I shaU
be satisfied if they all go that way. To ho ! to ho !" he
interrupted himself, for the dogs had both come to a
dead point among some tall flags ; and Shot's head cocked
on one side, with his nose pointed directly downward, and
his brow furrowed into a knotty frown, showed that the
bird was under his very feet. "Come up, Tom — come up,
you old sinner — don't you see Shot's got a snipe under his
very nose?"

"Well! well! I sees," answered Tom; "I sees it, dam
you ! but give a fellow time, you'd best, in this etamal miry
mudhole!" and, sinking mid leg deep at every step, the
fat man floundered on, keeping, however, his gun ever in
position, and his keen quick eye steadily fixed on the
staunch setter.

"Are you ready, now? I'll flush him," exclaimed Harry,
taking a step in advance; and instantly up sprang the bird,
with his sharp, thrice-repeated cry, and a quick flutter of
his wings, almost straight into the air over the head of
Tom, striving to get the wind.

Bang! Draw's first barrel was discharged, the snipe
being at that moment scarce ten feet from the muzzle, the
whole load going like a bullet, of course harmlessly ! — his
second followed, but, like the first, in vain; for the bird,
having fairly weathered him, was flying very fast, and
twisting all the time, directly up wind. Then Harry's gun
was pitched up, and the trigger drawn almost before the
butt was at his shoulder. Down went the bird; slanting
away six yards, though killed stone dead, in the direction
of his former flight, so rapidly had he been going, when
the shot struck him.

"]\Iark! mark!" I shouted, "Harry. Mark! mark! be-
hind you!" As three more birds took wing, before the
red dog, and were bearing off, too far from me, to the right
hand, like those which had preceded them. I had, when I
cried "mark," not an idea that he could possibly have
killed one; for he had turned already quite around in his
tracks, to shoot the first bird, and the others had risen wild,
in the first place, and were now forty yards off at the least ;
but quick as thought he wheeled again, cocking his second

204 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

barrel in the very act of turning, and sooner almost than
I could imagine the possibility of his even catching sight
of them, a second snipe was fluttering down wing-tipped.

"Beautiful, beautiful indeed," I cried involuntarily ; "the
quickest and the cleanest double-shot I have seen in many
a day."

"It warnt so darned slow, no how," replied Tom, some-
what crest-fallen, as he re-loaded his huge demi-cannon.

"Slow! you old heathen! if you could shoot better than
a boy five years old, we should have had three birds — I
could have got two of those last just as well as not, if you
had knocked the first down like a christian sportsman —
but look! look at those devils," Harry went on, pointing
toward the birds, which had gone off, and at which he had
been gazing all the time; "confound them, they'er going
to drum ?"

And so indeed they were; and for the first time in my
life I beheld a spectacle, which I had heard of indeed, but
never had believed fully, till my own eyes now witnessed
it. The two birds, which had been flushed, mounted up!
up! scaling the sky in short small circles, till they were
quite as far from this dull earth, as the lark, when "at
heaven's gate he sings" — and then dropt plumb down, as it
would seem, fifty feet in an instant, with a strange drum-
ming sound, which might be heard for a mile or more.
Then up they soared again, and again repeated their
manoeuver; while at each repetition of the sound another
and another bird flew up from every part of the wide
meadow, and joined those in mid ether; till there must
have been, at the least reckoning, forty snipe soaring and
drumming within the compass of a mile, rendering the
whole air vocal with that strange quivering hum, which
has been stated by some authors — and among these by the
ingenious and observant Gilbert White — to be ventrilo-
quous; although it is now pretty generally — and probably
with justice — conceded to be the efi"ect of a vibratory
motion of the quill feathers set obliquely, so as to make the
air whistle through them. For above an hour did this
wild work continue; not a bird descending from its "bad
eminence," but, on the contrary, each one that we flushed
out of distance, for they would not lie to the dogs at all,
rising at once to join them. "We have no chance," said
Harry, "no chance at all of doing anything, unless the

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. 205

day changes, and the sun gets out hot, which I fear it
wont. Look out, Tom, watch that beggar to your right
there; he has done drumming, and is going to 'light;"
and with the word, sheer down he darted some ninety yards
from the spot where we stood, till he was scarce three feet
above the marsh; when he wheeled off, and skimmed the
tiat, uttering a sharp harsh clatter, entirely different from
any sound I ever heard proceed from a snipe's bill be-
fore, though in wild weather in the early spring time I
have heard it since, full many a day. The cry resembled
more the cackling of a hen, which has just laid an egg,
than any other sound I can compare it to; and consisted
of a repetition some ten times in succession of the syllable
heh, so hard and jarring that it was difficult to believe
it the utterance of so small a bird. But if I waj surprised
at what I heard, what was I, when I saw the bird alight
on the top rail of a high snake fence, and continue there
five or ten minutes, when it dropped down into the long
marsh grass. Pointing toward the spot where I had
marked it, I was advancing stealthily, when Archer said,
"You may try if you like, but I can tell you that you
won't get near him !" I persevered, however, and fancied
1 should get within long shot, but Harry was quite right;
for he rose again skeap! skeap! and went off as wild as
ever, towering as before, and drumming; but for a short
time only, when, tired apparently of the long flight he had
already taken, he stooped from his elevation with the same
jarring chatter, and alighted — this time to my unmitigated
wonder — upon the topmost spray of a large willow tree,
which grew by the ditch side!*

"It's not the least use — not the least — pottering after
these birds now," said Harry. "We'll get on to the farther
end of the meadows, where the grass is long, and where
they may lie something better; and we'll beat back for
these birds in the afternoon, if Dan Phoebus will but
deign to shine out."

On we went, therefore, Tom Draw swearing strange
oaths at the birds, that acted so darnation cur'ous, and at

*I am aware that this will be difficultly believed even in the Uni-
ted States. But I will not, on that account, fail to record so singu-
lar a fact. Not a week before I saw this myself, I was told of the
fact by a gentleman since an Alderman, of New York ; and I am now
ashamed to say, doubted it. Michael Sanford, of Newark, N. J., was
along with me, and can certify to the fact.

206 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

myself and Harry for being such etarnal fools as to have
brought him sweatin into them darned stinkin mud-holes;
and I, to say the truth, almost despairing of success. In
half an hour's walking we did, however, reach some
ground, which — yielding far more shelter to the birds, as
being meadow-land not pastured, but covered with coarse
rushy tussocks — seemed to promise something better in
the way of sport; and before we had gone many yards
beyond the first fence, a bird rose at long distance to Tom's
right, and was cut down immediately by a quick snap shot
of that worthy, on whose temper, and ability to shoot, the
firmer ground and easier walking had already begun to
work a miracle.

"Who says I can't shoot now, no more than a five-year
old, cuss you!" he shouted, dropping the butt of his gun
deliberately, when skeap! skeap! startled by the near re-
port, two more snipe rose within five yards of him! —
fluttered he was assuredly, and fully did I expect to see a
clear miss — but he refrained, took time, cocked his gun
coolly, and letting the birds get twenty yards away, dropped
that to his right hand, killed clean with his second barrel,
while Harry doubled up the other in his accustomed style,
I not having as yet got a chance of ^ any bird.

"Down, charge!" said Harry; "down, charge! Shot,
you villain!" — for the last bird had fallen wing-tipped
only, and was now making ineffectual attempts to rise,
bouncing three or four feet from the ground, with his
usual cry, and falling back again only to repeat his effort
within five minutes — this proved too much, as it seemed,
for the poor dog's endurance, so that, after rising once
or twice uneasily, and sitting down again at his master's
word, he drew on steadily, and began roading the running
bird, regardless of the score which he might have been well
aware he was running up against himself. During this
business Chase had sat pretty quiet, though I observed a
nervous twitching of ears, and a latent spark of the devil
in his keen black eye, which led me to expect some mis-
chief, so that I kept my gun all ready for immediate
action ; and well it was that I did so ; for the next moment
he dashed in, passing Shot, who was pointing steadily
enough, and picked up the bird after a trifling scuffle, the
result of which was that a couple more snipe were flushed
wild by the noise. Without a moment's hesitation I let

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. 207

drive at them with botli barrels, knocking the right hand
snipe down very neatly; the left hand bird, however,
pitched up a few feet just as I drew the trigger, and the
consequence was that, as I fancied, I missed him clean.

"There! there! you stoopid, blundering, no-sich-thing —
there! now who talks of missing? That was the nicest,
prettiest, easiest shot I ever did see; and you — you shiftless
nigger you — you talks to me of missing !"

"Shut up! shut up! you most incorrigible old brute!"
responded Harry, who had been steadily employed in mark-
ing the missed bird, as I deemed him. "Shut up your
stupid jaw! That snipe's as dead as the old cow you
gave us for supper, the last time we slept at Warwick,
though from a different cause; for the cow, Jem Flyn
says, died of the murrain or some other foul rotten dis-
order; and that small winged fellow has got a very suffi-
cient dose of blue pill to account for his decease ! So shut
up! and keep still while I take the change out of these
confounded dogs, or we shall have every bird we get near
to-day flushed like those two. Ha! Shot! Ha! Chase!
Down cha-a-arge — down cha-a-arge — will you? will you?
Down charge!"

And for about five minutes, nothing was heard upon
the meadows but the resounding clang of the short heavy
dog-whip, the stifled grunts of Shot, and the vociferous
yells of Chase, under the merited and necessary chastise-
ment.

"Down charge, now, will you ?" he continued, as, pocket-
ing his whip, he wiped his heated brow, picked up hie
gun, and proceeded to bag the scattered game. "There!
that job's done," he said, "and a job that I hate most
confoundedly it is — but it must he done now and then;
and the more severely, when necessary, the more merci-
fully !"

"Now that's what I doos call a right down lie," the fat
man interposed. "You loves it, and you knows you do —
you loves to lick them poor dumb brutes, cause they can't
lick back, no how. You, Chase, darn you, quit mouthing
that there snipe — quit mouthing it, I say — else I'll cut out
the snoopin soul of you!"

"So much for Tom Draw's lecture upon cruelty to ani-
mals— that's what I call rich!" answered Harry. "But
come, let us get on. I marked that bird to a yard, down

208 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

among those dwarf rose-bushes; and there we shall find,
I'll be bound on it, good shooting. How very stupid of
me not to think of that spot ! You know, John, we always
find birds there, when they can't be found anywhere else."
On we went, after a re-invigorating cup of mountain-
dew, with spirits raised at the prospect of some sport at
last, and as we bagged the snipe which — Harry was right —
had fallen killed quite dead, the sun came out hot, broad,
and full. The birds were lying thick among the stunted
bushes and warm bubbling springs which covered, in this
portion of the ground, some twenty acres of marsh
meadow ; and as the afternoon waxed warm, they lay right
well before the dogs, which, having learned the conse-
quences of misdemeanor, behaved with all discretion. We
shot well! and the sport waxed so fast and furious, that
till the shades of evening fell, we had forgotten — all the
three — that our luncheon, saving the article of drams,
was still untasted; and that, when we assembled at seven
of the clock in Hard's cozey parlor, and shook out of
bag and pocket our complement of sixty-three well-grown
and well-fed snipe, we were in reasonable case to do good
justice to a right good supper.

THE PARTING DRINK.

Breakf.\st concluded, the next morning we pulled our
fen boots on, and on the instant up rattled Timothy, who
had disappeared a few minutes before, with the well-
known drag to the door, guns stowed away, dogs whimper-
ing, and sticking out their eager noses between the rail-
ings of the box — game bags well packed with lots of prog
and of spare ammunition.

Away we rattled at a brisk pace, swinging round corner
after corner, skilfully shaving the huge blocks of stone,
and dexterously quartering the deep ravine like ruts which
grace tlie roads of Jersey — crossing two or three bridges
over as many of those tributaries of the beautiful Passaic,
which water this superb snipe-country — and reaching at
least a sweep of smooth level road parallel to a long tract
of meadows under the widow Mulford's. And here, mort
de ma vie! that was a shot from the snipe-ground, and

TOM draw's visit TO PINE BROOK. 209

right on our beat, too — Ay ! there are two guns, and two,
three, pointers ! — liver and white a brace, and one all liver.

"I know them," Harry said, "I know them, good shots
and hard walkers both, but a little too much of the old
school — a little too much of the twaddle and potter sys-
tem. Jem Tickler, there, used, when I landed here, to kill
as many birds as any shot out of the city — though even

then the Jersey boys, poor Ward and Harry T gave

him no chance ; but now heaven help him ! Fat Tom here
would get over more ground, and bag more snipe, too, in
a day! The other is a canny Scot, — I have forgot his
name, but he shoots well and walks Better. iNever mind!
we can outshoot them, I believe; and I am sure we can out-
manoeuvre them. Get away ! get away. Bob," as he flanked
the near-side horse under the collar on the inside — "get
away you old thief — we must forereach on them." Away
we went another mile, wheeled short to the left hand
through a small bit of swampy woodland, and over a rough
causeway, crossing a narrow flaggy bog, with three straight
ditches, and a meandering muddy streamlet, traversing
its black surface. "Ha! what's John at there?" exclaimed
Harry, pulling short up, and pointing to that worthy crawl-
ing on all fours behind a tuft of high buUrushes toward
the circuitous creek — "There are duck there for a thou-
sand !" — and as he spoke, up rose with splash and quack
and flutter, four or five long-winged wild-fowl; bang!
went John's long duck-gun, and simultaneously with the
report, one of the fowl keeled over, killed quite dead, two
others faltering somewhat in their flight, and hanging on
the air heavily for a little space; when over went a second
into the creek, driving the water six feet into the air in
a bright sparkling shower.

The other three, including the hit bird, which rallied as
it flew, dived forward, flying very fast, obliquely to the
road ; and to my great surprise Harry put the whip on his
horses with such vigor that in an instant both were on the
gallop, the wagon bouncing and rattling violently on the
rude log-floored causeway. An instant's thought showed
me his object, which was to weather on the fowl sufficiently
to get a shot, ere they should cross the road; although I
marvelled still how he intended to pull up from the furious
pace at which he was going in time to get a chance.
Little space, however, had I for amazement ; for the ducks.

210 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

which had not risen high into the air, were forced to cross
faome thirty yards ahead of us, by a piece of tall woodland,
on the verge of which were several woodcutters, with two
or three large fires burning among the brushwood. "Now,
Tom," cried Harry, feeling his horses' mouths as he spoke,
but not attempting to pull up ; and instantly the old man's
heavy double rose steadily but quickly to his face — bang!
neatly aimed, a yard ahead of the first drake, which fell
quite dead into the ditch on the right hand of the cause-
way— bang! right across Harry's face, who leaned back to
make room for the fat fellow's shot, so perfectly did the
two rare and crafty sportsmen comprehend one another —
and before I heard the close report, the second wild-duck
slanted down wing-tipped before the wind, into the flags on
the left hand, having already crossed the road when the
shot struck him. The fifth and only now remaining bird,
which had been touched by Van Dyne's first discharge,
alighting in the marsh not far from his crippled comrade.

"Beautiful! beautiful indeed!" cried I; "that was the
very prettiest thing — the quickest, smartest, and best cal-
culated shooting I ever yet have seen!"

"We have done that same once or twice before though —
hey, Tom ?" replied Harry, pulling his horses well together,
and gathering them up by slow degrees — not coming to a
dead stop till we had passed Tom's first bird, some six
yards or better. "Now jump out, all of you; we have no
time to lose; no not a minute! for we must bag these fowl;
and those two chaps we saw on Mulford's meadows, are
racing now at their top speed behind that hill, to cut
into the big meadow just ahead of us, you may rely on
that. You, Timothy, drive on under that big pin oak —
take off the bridles — halter the horses to the tree, not to
the fence — and put their sheets and hoods on, for, early as
it is, the flies are troublesome already. Then mount the
game-bags and be ready — by the time you're on foot we
shall be with you. Forester, take the red dog to Van
Dyne, that second bird of his will balk him else, and I
sha'nt be surprised if he gets up again! Pick up that
mallard out of the ditch as you go by — he lies quite dead
at the foot of those tall reeds. Come, Tom, load up your
old cannon, and we'll take Shot, bag that wing-tipped
duck, and see if we can't nab the crippled bird, too ! come
along!"

TOM draw's visit TO PINK BROOK. 211

Off we set without further parley; within five minutes I
had bagged Tom's first, a rare green-headed Drake, and
joined Van Dyne, who, with the head and neck of his
first bird hanging out of his breeches pocket, where, in
default of game-bag, he had stowed it, was just in the act
of pouring a double handful of BB into his Queen's Ann's
musket. Before he had loaded, we heard a shot across the
road, and saw the fifth bird fall to Harry at long distance,
while Shot was gently mouthing Draw's second duck, to
his unutterable contentment. We had some trouble in
gathering the other, for it was merely body-shot, and that
not mortally, so that it dived like a fish, bothering poor
Chase beyond expression. This done, we re-united our
forces, and instantly proceeded to the big meadow, which
we found, as Harry had anticipated, in the most perfect
possible condition — the grass was short, and of a delicate
and tender green, not above ankle deep, with a rich close
black mould, moist and soft enough for boring every
where, under foot — with, at rare intervals, a slank, as it
is termed in Jersey, or hollow winding course, in which
the waters have lain longer than elsewhere, covered with a
deep, rust-colored scum, floating upon the stagnant pools.
We had not walked ten yards before a bird jumped up
to my left hand, which I cut down — and while I was in
the act of loading, another and another arose, but scarcely
cleared the grass ere the unerring shot of my two stanch
companions had stopped their flight forever. Some ten
yards from the spot on which my bird had fallen, lay one
of these wet slanks which I have mentioned — Chase drew
on the dead bird and pointed — another fluttered up under
his very nose, dodged three or four yards to and fro, and
before I could draw my trigger, greatly to my surprise,
spread out his wings and settled. Harry and Tom had
seen the move, and walked up to join me; just as they
came Chase retrieved the snipe I had shot, and when 1
had entombed it in my pocket, we moved on all abreast.
Skeap! skeap! skeap! Up they jumped, not six yards
from our feet, positively in a flock, their bright white
bellies glancing in the sun, twenty at least in number.
Six barrels were discharged, and six birds fell; we loaded
and moved on the dogs drawing at every step, backing
and pointing, so foiled was the ground with the close

212 TOM draw's visit to pine brook.

scent; again, before we had gathered the fruit of our
first volley, a dozen birds rose altogether ; again six barrels
bellowed across the plain, and again Tom and Harry
slew their shots right and left, while I, alas ! shooting too
quick, missed one! I know what I aver will hardly be
believed, but it is true, notwithstanding; a third time the
same thing happened, except that instead of twelve, thirty
or forty birds rose at the least, six of which came again to
earth, within, at farthest, thirty paces — making an aggre-
gate of eighteen shots, fired in less, assuredly, than so
many minutes, and seventeen birds fairly brought to bag.
These pocketed, by twos and threes Van Dyne had marked
the others down in every quarter of the meadow — and,
breaking off, singly or in pairs, we worked our will with
them. So hard, however, did they lie, that many could
not be got up again at all. In one instance I had marked
four, as I thought, to a yard, between three little stakes,
placed in the angles of a plat, not above twenty paces in
diameter — taking Van Dyne along with me, who is so
capital a marker that for a dead bird I would back him
against any retriever living — I went without a dog to
walk them up. But no! I quartered the ground, re-
quartered it, crossed it a third time, and was just quitting
it despairingly, when a loud shout from John, a pace or
two behind, warned me they were on wing! Two crossed
me to the right, one of which dropped to John's Queen
Ann almost as soon as I caught sight of them, and one
to my left. At the latter I shot first, and, without waiting
to note the effect of my discharge, turned quickly and
fired at the other. Him I saw drop, for the smoke drifted,
and as I turned my head, I scarcely can believe it now,
I saw my first bird falling. I concluded he had fluttered
on some small space, but John Van Dyne swears point
blank that I shot so quick that the second bird was on the
ground before the first had reached it. In this — a solitary
case, however — I fear John's famed veracity will scarce
obtain for him, that credit, or for me that renown, to
which he deemed us both entitled.

Before eleven of the clock, we had bagged forty-seven
birds; we sat down in the shade of the big pin oak, and
fed deliciously, and went our way rejoicing, toward the
upper meadows, fully expecting that before returning we
should have doubled our bag.

TOM draw's visit TO PINE nROOK. 213

But, alas! the hopes of men — Troy meadows were too
dry — Persipany too wet I — Loise's had been beat already,
and not one snipe did we even see or hear, nor one head
of game did we bag ; the morning's sport, however, had put
us in such merry mood that we regarded not the evening's
disappointment, and we sat down in great glee to supper.
What we devoured, or what we drank, it boots not to
record; but it was late at night before the horses were
ordered, and we prepared for a start.

After the horses were announced as ready, somewhat to
my surprise, Harry took old Tom aside, and was engaged
for some time in deep conversation; and when they had
got through with it, Harry shook him very warmly by
the hand, saying —

"Well, Tom, I am sincerely obliged to you; and it is
not the first time either."

"Well, well, boy," responded Tom, "I guess it 'taint the
first time as you've said so, though I don't know right
well what for neither. Any how, I hope 't won't be the
last time as I'll fix you as you wants to be. But come,
it's gettin' late, and I've got to drive Hard's horse over
to Paterson to-night."

"Oh, that will not be much," said Harry. "It is but
nine miles, and we are twenty from New York."

"Any how, we must take a partin' drink and I stands
treat. I showed Beers Hard how to make that egg nog.
Timothy — Timothy, you darned critter, bring in that ere
egg nog."

This was soon done, and Tom, replenishing all the glas-
ses to the brim, said very solemnly, "this iu a toast, boys,
7}oiv a raal bumper."

Harry grinned conscious. I stood, waiting, wondering.

^'Here's luck !" said Tom, "luck to Harry Archer, a land-
holder in our own old Orange!"

The toast was quaffed in an instant; and, as I drew my
breath, I said —

"Well, Harry, I congratulate you, truly. So you have
bought the Jem Burt Place?"

"Thanks to old Tom, dog cheap!" replied Archer; "and
I have only to say, farther, that early in the Autumn, I
hope to introduce you, and all my old friends, to the in-
terior of the new box."

Elff (Brrat Anwriran 9parting Sank.

FRANK FORESTOR'S FIELD SPORTS

OF THE

United States and British Provinces of North America.

WITH ENGRAVINGS OF EVERY SPECIES OF GAME,
drawn from Nature, by the Author.

BY HENRY W. HERBERT, ESQ.,

Author of "My Shooting Box," "The Deerstalkers," "Cromwell,"
"The Roman Traitor," &c., &c., &c.

Two vols. Svo. Price $4.

Sfotirre of tifr Prrea.

This is a book which we venture to predict the sportsman will
hereafter swear by. Frank Forester, bred up to all the niceties
of English shooting, is not only a scholarly naturalist, but a
practical American woodsman. His book will give them some
idea&^in England such as they never had before, save theoretical-
ly, of the manifold and varied qualities required by an American
practitioner of the gentle art of following dog and grun. — C. F.
Hoffman in Literary World.

Mr. Herbert is an enthusiast in the manly pastime on which he
has written. He takes hold of the subject not merely as one
intimately acquainted with his theme, but like a man whose
heart is in his work. Every man who either has or intends to
shoulder a fowling piece or rifle, should at once get hold of this
instructor, that he may know how, where, and when to bag his
game. — Albany Evening Journal.

The work embodies the natural history of the principal game
birds and animals of this region, with accounts of the season,
manner, and places of taking each respectively. Prairie-huntins-,
forest-hunting, upland, bay, and lowland shooting are fully
described, as well as the treatment of dogs in sickness and in
health, their training, uses, &c. To those following the exercise,
we deem this book indispensable. — N. Y. Tribune.

In material and execution the work is truly admirable. To the
sportsman it is, of course, of peculiar value, but not to him
alone : — to the naturalist and general reader it is full of interest,
affording accurate information concerning the habits of the elk,
moose, bison, deer, and also of all the game birds of the North
American Continent. — Southern Literary Gazette.

Mr. Herbert is a terse, sharp writer, goes right to the point,
tells things in a plain way, and yet glows with all the feelings
of a true sportsman, in his recital of the pleasures of shooting. —
St. Louis Reveille.

He goes through the whole catalogue of game, describes the
character haunts, and peculiarities of each ; assumes the tone of
a companion and instructor, and in a hundred ways, keeps the
reader upon the scent as keenly as the best trained setter. —
N. Y. Courier.

FRANK FORESTER'S

FISH AND FISHING

OF THE

UNITED STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES.

ILLUSTRATED FROM NATURE BY THE AUTHOR.

with Seventy-flve highly-finished Engrravinsa.

BY HENRY W. HERBERT. ESQ.,

Author of "Field Sports," "My Shooting Box," "The Deer

Stalkers," &c.

One vol., handsomely bound In cloth. Price $2.60

S^ottrra af tifr ^rra*.
This is really an elegant, as well as charming and interesting
work. The publishers have evidently taken pride in preparing a
book on American fish and fishing, and have spared no expense
on their part, to make the work all that it ought to be. We
know of no book on American fishes and fishing, equal to it in
value and interest, alike to the sportsman and the naturalist.—
Commercial Advertiser.

This is a continuation of the "Field Sports," by the same
author, published some time since, and which was so much com-
mended, both in England and America. Of a style of literature
which has always been popular, it is calculated to rank by the
side of "Old Izaak," and Sir Humphrey Davy's "Salmonia." The
designs, if we mistake not, from which the engravings are made,
are by Mr. Herbert himself — a passionate lover of the sport, and
therefore both accurate and beautiful."— N. Y. Express.

This is a beautifully printed book, and ornamented with
superb engravings of the most popular fish, which look luscious
enough to make one fond of the piscatory art. Herbert writes
like an enthusiastic disciple of old Izaak Walton — and this work
will enhance his already brilliant reputation. All who are fond
of the sport should procure copies." — N. O. Delta.

It is very full in its description of the various fish known •
our waters, and contains a great number of cuts by way of
illustrations. It is one of the most elegant books of the season,
and must be especially welcome to naturalists and sportsmen." —
Courier and Enquirer.

SUPPLEMENT TO FISH AND FISHING

Price 75 cents
Smbrlliatirii nitti; a branttfnliit-rngraiiri) Platr of (Halorttt Wllea.

The Supplementary Volume to this valuable work, just published,
contains a large amount of practical information for the angler,
with an engraved plate of Flies, beautifully colored, containing
directions for making artificial Flies, Fly Fishing, Trolling, &c..
thus rendering Frank Forester's work on Fish and Fishing- the
most valuable book extant. Handsomely bound in cloth, uniform
with the other works.

This book, with that to which it is an indispensable appendix,
must be the "vade mecum" of the piscatorial sportsman, on the
trip he is just now meditating to Hamilton County, or farther or
nearer afield. The frontispiece to the supplement present-.
twenty-four varieties of artificial flies, colored according: to
nature, and lucidly described in the body of the book. — N. Y.
Express.

OR,

STUDIES OF THE TOWN.

BY AN OPERA-GOER.

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY DARLEY.
First Series in One Volume, Cloth, price $1.25.

gl^^ This is a work for the express entertainment of all
spinsters who wish husbands ; all belles who admire their own
charms ; all beaux who are captivated with their own portraits ;
all old ladies who wish to be young ; all authors emulous of their
own works ; all fashionists in love with their own position ;
all misses eager to be seen ; all rich men who are lovers of their
own money ; all bachelors looking for a fortune ; all poets
infatuated with their powers ; all critics confident of their taste ;
and all sensible men who are content to be honest.

(9{tintan0 of tljp ^rcBB.
"The Lorgnette," by an Oper-Goer, has won a flattering repu-
tation for its quiet, mischievous humor, its lively sketches of
fashionable follies, its shrewd delineations of character, and its
mastery of a graceful, transparent, healthy English style. It
speaks well for the versatility of literary talent among us, that
nearly a score of the wits of Gotham have had the credit of its
paternity. The author has no reason to be ashamed of his
production. A second series is announced by Stringer & Town-
send, of which we have received the first number, devoted to
the mysteries of May moving, and the still more profound
mysteries of the Polka and the Polkists. — N. Y. Tribune.

Anything that grows in value with progressing, as does the
"Lorgnette," is note-worthy in these tapering times ; and why
we have not spoken of the numbers as they -have appeared, is
simply because we have not received them ; for they are of a
Salm.agundi spiciness, that it were dull knowingly to overlook.
The sketches of a "Bostonian." a "Phialdelphian," and other
"Strangers in Town," as estimated in New York, are truly
capital. — Home Journal.

The fact that the "Lorgnette" has thorough experience-^that
he has been "in," "of," and "through," as well as recently so
far "above," the follies which he treats of so feelingly — of course
gives weight and efficacy to his opinions. But we confess to
have been strangely affected by these writings, previously to any
knowledge of their source. There seems to be a subtle intrinsic
power in their half-earnest expressions, independent of, and far
superior to any extraneous authority.

Their unusual combination of strength, delicacy, and refine-
ment, is quite consoling ; and we rejoice that one writer of
these days can be severe, without forgetting the gentleman, and
can demonstrate that wit is most keen and sparkling, when set
in English, "pure and undefiled." — Literary World.

THE

Jtitprnatiottal ilnntl|li| Mu^azim

Having been received with an unlooked-for degree of favor, the

publishers announce that it will be continued with every

appliance for its value and attraction, and with a

determination on their part to render it altogether

THE BEST PERIODICAL FOR POPULAR READING
IN THE UNITED STATES.

The Publishers have the satisfaction of seeing, in the extraordi-
nary rapidity and extent of its sale, an

Unmistakable sign of the pxiblic appreciation and

approval.

Jggf* Each number of the Magazine will contain 144 pages
octavo, in double column —

A carefully-prepared Fashion Plate,
and other Pictorial Illustrations, will accompany each number.

THE INTERNATIONAL

Makes Three Volumes a year, of over 600 page."? each, at the
unprecedented low price of

ONE DOLLAR A VOLUME.

TERMS.

Three Dollars a year, or Twenty-Five Cents a number.

Liberal arrangements will be made with the Trade and Peri-
odical Agents for efforts in circulating the work.

To CLUBS.— Two Copies a year for $5 : Five Copies, $10 : Ten
Copies, $20 ; and one copy to the person who sends the money.

STRINGER & TOWNSEND,

222 Broadway, New York

®pinlona of ll^e J^ttBH.
The International for October. New York: Stringer & Town-
send. This is the best International yet issued, and the Inter-
national is the best American Periodical now published. It is an
invaluable Miscellany of original and eclectic matter, and cheap,
almost without a parallel. We commend it to our readers, with
the utmost confidence that they will find it all that we have
said, now and heretofore. — Southern Literary Gazette.

International Monthly.— This great international magazine of
Literature and Art is published by Stringer & Townsend, 222
Broadway. The October number has been politely forwarded to
this office, and we are happy to bear testimony to its superior
excellence in every respect. It is seldom that such an amount
of really good matter is collected in so small a space, and sold
at so cheap a rate. — Sunday Atlas.

The International Magazine.^The October number of this most
excellent monthly, has been already issued by Stringer & Town-
send, 222 Broadway. Its contents embrace the cream of all the
foreign and native magazines, and it is decidedly the best p'lb-
lication of the kind ever presented to the American public. The
present number is embellished with several engravings, and is
sold at retail for 25 cents — by the year $3. — Noah's Times.

We welcome it as another valuable agent in the work of
originating and disseminating the sound and wholesome literature
of our language. — Wash. Rep.

=bstsr Family Library cf Veterinary Medicine

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