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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

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15  CENTS  AUGUST,    1907  $1.50  THE  YEAR 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Greater  San  Francisco 


Western  Agencies  &  Manufacturing  Co. 


A.  J.  BURTON,  MGR. ■ 

Manu 

LEATHER     AND     CANVAS     SPORTING     GOODS. 

LEGGINS. 

BELTS.    TRAVELERS'    SAMPLE 

ROLLS. 

CASES.    AUTOMOBILE    TIRE 

COVERS.    ETC. 

"PA B R 1 KO 1  D"7/" best artificial 

leather  made. 

Successor  to  PEGAMOID. 

Phone  Market  2427 

Office  and  Factory 

1785  15th  Street  near  Guerrero 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA. 

Still  Building  California=Made 


ELEVATORS 


In  Spite  of  the  Fire  and  the  "  Elevator "  Trust 


STYLES  NOW    RUNNING 

Full  Automatic  Atlas  Building  (10  stories) Mission  St..  near  Second 

Electric  Western  Addition.  Masonic  Hall Fillmore  Street 

Hydraulic  Refill  us  Apartments Pacific  Ayenue.  near  Van  Ne;s 

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Automobile  Volfcman  Building Jackson  Street,  near  Sansome 

Builders'   Hoists  (One  Hundred  ot  our  Elerators  Burned.) 


Van  Emon  Elevator  Co. 

46=54  Natoma  St.  San  Francisco 

Our  eight  elevators  in  Mr.  H.  E.  Huntington's  "Pacific  Electric  (Railway)  Bldg." 
Los  Angeles,  Cal.,  we  refer  to  as  a  Model  Elevator  Installation. 


WESTERN  FIELD 

PUBLISHED  AT  GREATER  SAN  FRANCISCO.  CALIFORNIA 

Vol.  11 

AGUUST,    1907 

No.    1 

CONTENTS  OF  THIS    NUMBER 

Frontispiece— "A  Bit  of  America's  Wonderland-Castle  Geyser.  Yellowstone  Park." 

Rain  After  Drouth  (Verse) Marian  Phelps 

Following  the  Fishers— Illustrated  by  the  Author Eloise  Roorbach 

The  Riyer  and  the  Sea  (Verse) M.  Pauline  Scott 

Curious  and  Little  Known  Animals— Wild  Dogs Lawrence  /r-wetl 

The  Song  of  the  Rattlesnake  (Verse) Berta  Harte  Nance 

Lewis  B .  Franc. — An  A ppreciation Frank  H.  Mayer 

The  Slum  ber  of  Day  (Verse) Sara  C.  Potts 

A  Trip  to  the  Little  Sur Dr.  B.  F.  Coleman 

The  Scenery  of  California Harold  If.  Fairbanks.  P.H.  D. 

A  bong  of  the  West  (Verse) Henry  Morev 

Tiger  Tracks— Part  II-Concluded p    W  Reid 

Harmony  I  i  Qrace  Q.  Crowe/l 

Autumn     y  Verse <  S.A.White 

£nUds      A  r-  ■     ,  \  Donald  A  Frazer 

Kill  in  g  a  Coast  G  n  7/1  y \\    p .  Burton 

Ihe  Greenhorns  and  the  Ouail : £_    c  Croftman 

South  Coast  Shooting—  Part  VII—  The  Mountain  Lion "Stillhunter" 

California   the  Land  of  Sunshine Pro/.  Alexander  C.  McAdie 

The  Grand  American  Handicap Staff  Correspondent 

A  Clean  Sport... Editorial 

I  he  Beginner  and  the  Rifle "Small  4rms" 

Automobile  Club  of  California's  Run Arthur  Inkersley 

\Z0" Arthur  Inkersley 

D°B H.T.  Payne 

1 7-  DEPARTMENTS—  1 7 


LOOK       LOOK       LOOK 


...WON  ... 

First 

Second 

Third 

Fifth 

Sixth 

Seventh 

at  the  first  tournament  of  the 

Pacific  Coast  Trap  Shooters'  League 

Held  at  Ingleside,  San  Francisco 

February  22,  23,  24,  1906 

with 

Selby  Shells 

Manufactured  by  the  Selby  Smelting  and  Lead  Co. 


When   Writing   Adverti: 


Please   Mention  "WESTERN   FIELD.' 


ERN  FIELD 


Goldberg,  Bowen  &  Co. 


m 


Cro 


cers 


FOUNDED 

. .  .1850.  .  . 


FIFTY -  SEV EN  YEARS  of  conscientious  attention 
to  the  demands  of  those  who  appreciate  good  goods  at  reasonable 
prices,  coupled  with  excellent  service,  three  daily  deliveries  and  the 
acme  of  perfecl  store  attention  are  the  reasons  why  we  to-day  enjoy 
and  ask    tne    continued   patronage    of    the    San    Francisco    public 


PERMANENT  LOCATIONS 

1244  Van  ^Cess,   near  Sutter 

2829  California,   near    tDeuisader< 

1401   Haight,   corner  £%Casonic 

13th  and  Clay,    Oakland 


SAFE  =  SAFE  =  SAFE 


Aim    Low 


Shoot  Straight 


THE  SAME  CARE  AND  ACCURACY  NECESSARY  IN  THE  FIELD 
SHOULD  BE  EXERCISED  IN  SAFEGUARDING  ARTICLES  OF  VALUE 

Property  of  Value  should  be  under  the  Owner's  control  —  In 
a  Definite  Place  —  Always  Accessible  —  Absolutely  SECURE 

THE  SAFE  DEPOSIT  VAULTS  OF  MERCANTILE  TRUST  COM- 
PANY OF  SAN  FRANCISCO  offer  every  facility  for  the  safekeeping  of 
valuables. 

These  vaults  were  not  affected  by  the  earthquake  or  fire  of  April  18-20,  1906 
and  are  the  strongest  and  best  appointed  vaults  in  the  west. 


INSPECTION    CORDIALLY    INVITED 

464  CALIFORNIA  STREET   -    SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA 


SAFE  DEPOSIT  VAULTS 


PROTECTED  BY  A= 


SAFE   DEPOSIT   BUILDING 


When   Writing  Adverti: 


•WESTERN  FIELD." 


The  Castle  Geyser,  Yellowstone  National  Park 
A  Bit  of  America's  Wonderland 


STERN    FIELD 


i 


■ 

: 

■ 

■ 
■ 


■ 
■ 


m 


K  I    WESTERN    F  ELD      HI 


PUBLISHED    AT    GREATER    SAN    FRANCISCO 


Vol.    1: 


**"1°l<V\/sl5  2.- 


AUGUST.    1907 


No. 


27168 


rK 


KDM    cloudless   skies   the   brazen    sun    beats   dow 

Upon   a   panting,   famine-threatened   land; 
Like  fiery  blasts  from  some  great  furnace  sweep 
The   scorching    winds   o'er   meadows   parched    n 

brown ; 
Where    once    flowed    purling    streams    is    naug 

but   sand, 
And  in  the  highways  dust  lies  ankle  deep. 


With   every   gust    its   glittering   atoms   rise 
In   whirling  clouds  that  fill  the  stifling  air; 
The  withering  foliage  burns  to  ashen  gray; 

The  summer's  fairest  blossoms  close  their  eyes 
And  faint   beneath  the  sun's   unpitying  glare- 
As    hopes   deferred   grow    weaker  day   by    day, 

As  day  by  day  some  moment  of  despair 
Draws  nearer  to  a  soul  that  in  dismay 
Sinks  down   beneath   its   sorrow's  crushing'  blow 

That   seemeth  greater  than   its  strength  can    b<  n 
We  cease  to  hope;  we  almost   cease  to  pray, 
And  languish  'neath  an  agony  of  woe. 

When,  lo!   within  the  sky  a  mist  appears 
That  spreading  fast  obscures  the  blazing  sun  ; 
The  drooping  plants  take  heart;  the  mad  winds   still. 
We  scan  the  clouds  with  mingled  hopes  and  fears. 
And  watch  them  as  they  gather,  one  by  one. 
Till   with   new  life   the   earth's  faint    pulses   thrill. 


O'er  field  a 
The  solemr 
And  earth 

And      i, 

With   i: 


id  forest  comes  on  brooding  winy 
hush   of  awed  expectancy, 
enews  her  broken   bond  of  trust. 
dw     through     all     the     trees     soft 


sstling 


ith  patte 


The  first  great  drops  make  dimples  in  the  dust 

earth's   glad  lips    repeat    its   joy's    refrain  : 
ank  God!     At  last  the  rain!     At  last  the  rain!' 
Marian  Phelps 


£T~0. 


— 

louipg    the 


CTS 


£m&* 


IORBACH. 
Author.) 


r.\  Ei  oise  l.  R< 

i  Illustrated  by  the 

\      VCCORDANCE    with    the    new    law    the    California    fishing 

t hi  -    year    opened    May    1st    instead    of    April    1st    as 

formerly.      Great    excitement    prevailed    among   my    neighbo 

as  the  momentuous  day  slowly  approached.    1   had  heard  such 

marvelous    stories   of   miraculous   catches,   such   heart-breaking 

accounts    of    escaping    whale-like    creatures,    such    discussions 

of  morning  versus  evening  "biting",  such  wise  talk  of  Brown 

Hackle.Dusty  Miller,  Royal  Coachmen,  etc.,  etc.;  that  I  begged 

to  1"    allowed  to  go  along,  as  spectator,  and  offered  to  carry 

the   breakfast,    build   a    lire   and   cook   all   the   trouv   that   they 

could    catch.     Permission    was    graciously    granted    me.    provided    I    would 

solemnly   promise   to   "hold   my   tongue"   and   "keep   my   distance".     I   knew 

I    could  "hold   my   tongue"  if  he — the   Chief  fisherman,  could — for  nothing 

but   the    whistle    of   a   passing   locomotive    ever   caused   his   to   keep    still    for   a 

moment!     And    1    knew    I    could    "keep    my    distance",    because    that    was 

exactly   what    1    wanted  to  do.      So   I   promised. 

The  trout  generally  caught  in  our  coast  streams  is  the  Steelhead  (Salmo 
rivularis  or  Stilmn  gairdneri  as  it  used  to  be  called),  though  nearly  all 
streams  have  some  Rainbows  (Salnw  iridia).  The  Steelhead  is  a  gamey 
fish,  growing  according  to  report  to  a  weight  of  from  IS  to  20  pounds 
in  the  larger  rivers.  They  are  a  beautifully  colored,  slender,  daintily  shaped 
fish.  David  Starr  Jordan,  California's  authority  on  fish,  describes  it  as 
having  a  very  short  head — "the  length  of  the  head  along  the  side  being 
contained  from  4'  _■  to  S  times  in  the  length  of  the  body  from  the  tip  of  the 
snout  to  the  base  of  the  caudal  fin.  The  scales  of  the  steelhead  are  rather 
averaging  about  ISO  in  a  lengthwise  series  from  head  to  tail.  The 
dorsal  fin  is  low  and  it  has  usually  but  three  or  four  rows  of  dark  spot-." 
Here  in  the  San  Lorenzo,  a  small  river  near  Santa  Cruz,  the  young  steelheads  look 
much  like  the  famed  rainbow,  being  brilliant  in  color  and  quite  varied  as  to  size  and 
number  of  spots.  The  old  and  young  differ  so  greatly  that  they  could  easiiy  be  mistaken 
for  different  species.  They  change  color  also  as  they  are  found  in  small  brooks,  rivers 
or  the  sea. 

At  the  dawning  of  May  we  started  for  the  river — the  river  we  can  hear  singing  by- 
day  and  by  night.  They  cast  the  first  fly  in  swirling  pools  while  the  morning  mists  were 
still  making  silvery  dream  palaces  all  around.     The  mists  caused  us  all  to  rejoice — they. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


because    the    iish    would    bite   better,   and    me, 
because  of  their  exceeding  beauty. 

When  they  moved  forward  to  the  next 
pool  or  riffle,  I  tagged  along  with  the  burden 
of  baskets.  When  they  stopped,  I  stopped. 
So,  moving  or  stopping  as  I  saw  them  do, 
I  kept  to  the  very  letter  of  the  law  laid 
down  to  me  as  to  "keeping  my  distance". 
After  more  than  an  hour  of  this  squaw- 
like trailing  I  began  to  grow  uneasy- — a 
great    fear    took    possession    of    me.      I     left 


the  edge  of  the  river  and  noiselessly  "short 
cut"  until  I  got  ahead  of  the  fishers,  then 
hid  among  the  b.ushes.  I  desired  to  look 
into  the  face  of  the  Chief  as  he  came  along, 
for  never  in  bis  life  had  he  kept  quiet  for 
so  long  a  time  before,  and  I  feared  some- 
thing was  wrong  with  him.  But  never  had 
he  looked  so  sane  or  so  happy,  and  quiet- 
ness became  him  well.  As  he  threw  the 
flies  or  drew  in  the  flashing  fish  I  wondered 
over    the    power    that    could    produce    this 


fi.\  FlEl  D 


"Then  the  Slo 

uality  in  him.  Was  it  memory  of 
ancestry,  the  primeval  instinct  that 
taught  the  need  "I  silence  it  one  desired  to 
catch  a  meal?  Was  it  the  spell  of  the  still- 
ness of  early  morn  that  even  the  birds 
hesitate  to  break'  Was  it  just  the 
presence  of  beauty  compelling  speechless 
worship?  Or  was  he  simply  arguing  with 
himself  as  to  which  kind  of  a  fly  to  use 
next  ? 

Understanding   it    not,   but   satisfied    that 


v,  Rich    Idaeio 

all  was  well  with  him,  1  ceased  to  worry 
and  again  enjoyed  the  morning  in  my  own 
way.  The  meeting  of  brook  and  river,  the 
fern  banks,  the  graceful  alders,  the  gray 
sycamore  trunks — all  these  and  more  I 
enjoyed. 

When  we  got  to  a  place  called  "Camp 
Thunder"  I  began  to  build  a  fire.  There 
was  plenty  of  drift  wood  the  spring  freshet 
had  left  on  the  banks  to  dry  in  the  sun, 
and    long    gray    lichens,    as    dry    as    tinder, 


/  ///    PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


hung  from  low   branches  of  oak  and  maple. 

So  in  spite  of  slanderous  reports  of 
woman's  inability  to  build  a  camp  fire  1 
soon  had  one  blazing  mightily.  I  threw 
on  such  a  quantity  of  wood  that  my  tire 
resembled  a  regular  funeral  pyre  and  I  had 
to  "keep  my  distance"  from  it,  also,  or  run 
the  risk  of  speedy  cremation.  So  1  went 
down  to  the  river  to  watch  the  fishing  and 
see    what    1    could    see. 

The  river  broadens  out  at  this  bend. 
sweeps  brilliantly  over  layers  of  rock  that 
are  piled  up  like  a  stairway,  the  top  of  each 
layer  pointing  up  stream.  This  makes  fin-' 
pools  where  the  trout  can  hide  and  dart  out 
after  food,  for  everything  floats  past  their 
doorway.  The  steps  are  not  very  high  nor 
the  water  very  deep,  for  it  spreads  over  so 
much  ground.  But  it  quickly  gathers  again 
into  one  of  the  narrowest  places  on  the 
river  and  tumbles  uproariously  through  this 
narrow  gorge  into  a  wide  deep  pool  where 
it  rests  for  quite  a  time.  So  there  is  all 
kinds  of  fishing  in   this  one   locality. 

1  had  a  curiosity  to  see  just  how  a  fish 
would  bite,  so  got  up  into  the  branches  of 
a  fallen  tree  and  looked  straight  down  into 
a  clear  pool.  The  Chief  made  a  cast.  I 
saw  something  that  looked  about  eighteen 
inches  long  make  a  jump  for  the  fly.  It 
caught  for  a  fraction  of  a  moment,  then 
slipped   back   into   the   water. 

I  heard  a  remark  from  the  Chief,  the 
first  in  a  long  time.  There  is  a  kind  of 
delectable  mushroom  called  Helvella  Crispa 
(accent  on  first  syllable).  I  think,  but  of 
course  wont  be  sure — I  think  I  heard  him 
talking  about  those  mushrooms  for  he  is 
very  fond  of  them!  He  showed  a  broken 
book  and  began  frantically  to  hunt  for 
the  biggest  hook  he  had  with  him. 

"Was  that  a  sucker?"  said   I. 

"Well  1  guess  not — that  was  a  salmon 
trout  and  I  am  going  to  catch  him  if  I 
stay  here  all  day",  said  he.  He  tried  him 
with  hooks  from  every  page  in  his  book, 
also  offered  him  worms  both  large  and 
small.  He  fished  above  and  below  that 
pool  and  on  both  sides  of  it.  North,  north- 
east by  north,  northeast,  northeast  by  east. 
east  north  east,  east  by  north  east,  and  so 
on,  boxing  the  compass  of  that  .pool,  for- 
wards and  backwards,  doubling  the  two  and 
thirty  points  of  the  compass  like  an  able 
bodied  seaman!  But  never  a  rise  did  he  get! 


"Xow  isn't  that  enough  to  break  a  man's 
heart'"    he    mourns. 

"Come  get  a  cup  of  hot  coffee,"  say  I ,  offer- 
ing'comfort  to  his  soul  by  way  of  the 
stomach  as  I  have  been  taught  to  do. 
There  were  live  of  us  in  the  party  and  the 
catch  when  fried  was  equal  to  the  task  of 
affording  satisfaction  to  us  all. 

\  small  boy  came  along  with  a  string 
of. good  sized  fish.  A  little  girl  of  our  party 
who  had  caught  15  fine  trout,  looked  con- 
temptuously at  his  string,  remarking,  "They 
"are    nothing  hut    suckers.      The)    look    just    like 

pigs." 

"I  fished  for  slickers  on  purpose"  said 
the   boy. 

A  man  is  seen  whipping  the  stream.  He 
is  hailed.  "What  luck?"  "Well  I  havent 
got  but  about  SO  good  sized  ones.  I  caught 
a  lot  of  small  ones  and  had  to  throw  them 
back.  That  is  a  foolish  law — making  us  put 
back  all  under  live  inches,  for  they  are 
generally  so  hurt  by  the  hook  that  they 
die.  I  have  seen  lots  of  dead  ones  floating 
past  already.  But  say — talk  about  a  green- 
horn's luck — I  gave  one  of  my  flies  to  a 
kid  that  came  along  fishing  with  worms — 
just  tickled  him.  He  dropped  it  in  the 
water  and  I'll  be  blowed  if  he  didn't  get 
the  biggest  trout  I  ever  saw  in  this  river." 
So  he  goes  his  way  and  we  compare  notes 
and   swap  experiences. 

"You  don't  know  what  you  are  missing," 
said  an  Izaak  of  our  party  to  me.  "Come 
on  and  try  your  luck — 1  will  put  on  the 
worms."  "No,  thanks,"  said  I,  "I  am  hav- 
ing a  glorious  time  fishing  in  my  own  way 
and  don't  care  to  change  places."  So  they 
hovered  expectantly  over  pool  and  riffle, 
trying  by  all  the  tricks  human  craft  could 
invent  to  outwit  eight-inch  trout.  But  they 
were  just  naturally  too  wise  to  bite  flies 
that    were   flung  almost   into   their   mouths. 

I  wandered  back  to  the  part  of  the  brook 
1  had  first  seen  in  the  morning.  There  was 
an  ariose  beauty  about  those  swirling  pools 
that  was  haunting,  and  I  wanted  to  listen 
to  it  again.  The  river's  song  from  where 
we  first  started  to  follow  it,  to  the  part  we 
called  our  destination,  took  the  form  of  a 
sonata. 

The  sparkling  opening  movement  wdiere 
it  sped  quickly  along.  Then  the  slow,  rich 
adagio  fullness,  where  it  seemed  to  be  medi- 
tating on  some  song  dawning  within  itself. 


II  ESTERS   I  ll-.l. I> 


It  -eemed  to  be  gathering  from  both  its 
:n  its  environment  some- 
thing lovely  to  say  when  it  next  met 
boulders  or  pebbles  who  always  demand  a 
song. 

Then  the  third  movement,  the  fascinating 
scherzo,  was  swung  into  with  confidence 
and  the  river  was  playfully  articulate. 
sounding  a  low  note  against  a  high  rock  or 
trilling  a  descending  cadence  over  a  piled 
up  group  of  stones. 


Then  it  took  itself  well  in  hand  as  it 
dashed  into  the  riffles  and  the  quick  finale 
of  a  sonata  was  well  defined.  After  elab- 
orately showing  its  most  brilliant  technique, 
the  whole  river  rushed  through  the  narrow. 
rocky  passage  and  made  its  loud  finishing 
crescendo. 

When  the  quiet  pool  beyond  was  reached, 
it  had  the  effect  of  the  silence  that  comes 
when  the  sonata  is  finished.  I  know  it 
goes  on  and  on.   running  the   whole  gamut 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


of  musical  possibilities — cantabile,  vivace, 
sostenuto,  agtiato,  etc.,  but  I  turn  back 
content  with  the  sonata  number.  The  bril- 
liant parts  of  rivers  or  music  are  splendid 
and  exciting,  but  we  go  back  to  the  rest- 
fulness  of  the  adagio  for  purest  enjoyment. 
The  brilliant  part  of  the  river's  song  at- 
tracts our  attention  to  it,  and  it  alone.  The 
quietness  of  its  pools  coaxes  us  to  listen  to 
a  singer  within  ourselves  we  are  generally 
too  restless  to  notice. 


I  go  once  more  to  the  suggestive  adagio 
— the  quiet  pool,  and  listen  to  the  sweet 
melody.  I  lazily  notice  the  paradox  of 
beauty — it  is  clear-cut  and  denned — it  is 
nebulous  and  vague.  I  think  I  will  be  a 
Pantheist  for  a  day  and  worship  the  su- 
perior beings  who  control  the  powers  of 
nature.  In  paying  homage  to  the  Gods  of 
wind,  sun,  earth  and  water,  T  discover  they 
are  worshiping  and  obeying  some  other  God 
beyond  themselves. 


WESTER.\  I  ll.:. i' 


.  R_ 


I   remember  Lao  Tse's  fine  comments  on 

the  "humility"  of  water:  "That  by  which 
the  great  rivers  and  seas  receive  the  tribute 
of  all  the  streams  is  the  fact  of  being 
lowly:  this  is  why  they  are  superior."  One 
chapter  of  his  Tao-Tch-King  is  devoted  to 
the  virtue  of  water. 

"The   greatest    virtue   is   like   water: 

Water   is   good   to  all   tilings.. 

It   attains  the   most    inaccessible   places    without    strife 

Therefore  it  is  like  Tan. 

11    h;is    ""     "<""■   "•    adapting    itself    to    its    place 

It    is    virtuous    like    the    heart,    by    being    deep 

In  giving    itself,    i.    has   the    virtue   of  benevolence. 

It  is  virtuous  like  speech,   by  being  faithful. 

It   is   virtuous   like   government,    in    making    clean. 

It   is   virtuous   like  a    servant,    in    its    ability. 

It   is  virtuous,  like  action,  by  being  in  season. 

And.  because    il    docs   not    strive,   it   has   no  enemies." 


1  play  a  while  with  a  little  frog.  [  chat- 
ter back  at  a  gray  squirrel  who  challenged 
me  to  a  talk.  I  listen  to  the  incomparable 
call  of  the  meadow  lark  way  back  in  the 
fields  and  to  the  sweet  voice  of  the  West- 
ern Pheebe  who  steadily  introduces  himself, 
as  "McPheebe,  McPheebe",  and  to  the 
Grosbeak's  liquid  note.  I  watch  a  little 
snake  come  down  for  a  drink  and  think  of 
the  time  I  met  a  huge  diamond-backed 
tattler  face  to  face,  with  no  fear,  for  I  knew 
htm  to  be  a  gentleman,  but  jumped  nearly 
"in  i.i  my  skin  and  grew  dizzy  with  fright 
when  I  once  stepped  on  one  end  of  a  stick 
and  the  other  end  flew  up  and  rustled  the 
dead   leaves.      We   are   often    more   alarmed 


THE  PACIFK    COAST  MAGAZINE 


11 


over  imaginary  dangers  than  we  are  when 
facing  real  ones. 

When  1  got  back  to  the  fishers  1  called, 
"Did  you  catch  anything?" 

"Sure,"  said  Tzaak,  "did  you?"  sarcas- 
tically. 

"Of  course!  I  got  a  frog,  a  snake,  a 
squirrel,  sweet  clover  for  the  linen  closet, 
Rowers  for  all  over  the  house.  I  heard  the 
Sonata  of  Shining  Waters  and  the  Oratorio 
of  birds.  I  might  also  confess  I  have 
caught  each  and  every  one  of  you  fisher- 
men and  women.  Let's  sec  what  you 
have?" 

He  opened  the  basket  and  let  me  admire 
the  bright  colored  beauties  in  their  nest  of 
green  grass,  looking  like  so  many  jewels  on 
soft  velvet.  "Oh,  how  very  pretty  they  are! 
ipotted  by  the  sun  and  silvered  by  the 
water!  I  never  liked  freckles  before.  Don't 
v,m   think  a   girl's   freckles  are  as   great  an 


improvjment  to  her  beauty  as  the  spots 
are  t  t  a  trout's?" 

His  snorty  kind  of  a  laugh  inferred  a 
positive  "No"! 

We  stayed  all  day  and  as  evening'-  sweet 
presence  began  to  be  felt  we  started  home- 
wards, by  way  of  the  river,  casting  a  fly 
now  and  then,  not  with  the  expectant  zest 
of  the  morning,  but  as  one  toys  with  the 
bon-bons  after  a  satisfying  dinner  of  varied 
favorite  courses.  Mother  Nature  had  been 
our  gracious. hostess,  entertaining  us  in  her 
own  charming,  inimitable  way. 

The  "eatables",  the  most  delicious,  might 
easily  be  forgotten  as  we  become  absorbed 
in  following  Time  through  his  counties- 
fields. 

But  the  music,  the  decorations,  the  ban- 
quet hall,  the  privilege  of  converse  with 
our  hostess — can  it  be  possible  our  minds 
will  ever  play  us  tricks  of  forgetfulness? 


THE  RIVER  AND  THE  SEA 

IN   THE  sunlight  flashing. 
Over   boulders    splashing. 
Down   the  mountain   dashing. 
A   power   is   drawing  me. 
I  am  the  River  and  thou  art  the   Sea, 
And  all  my  life  currents  set  onward  to  the 

Through    the   valley    going, 
I   hear  thy   voice  unknowing. 
But    calm    my    currents    flowing 
To  listen   once  to  thee. 
I  am  the  River  and  thou  art  the  Sea, 
And   all  that   I  hear  is  thy  call  for  me. 


Brighte 
Thy 


still 


id   cle 


■ild 


.,11m. 


But  dearer  still,  far  dearer, 
Are  the  calm  waves  meeting  me. 
I  am  the  River  and  thou  art  the  Sea, 
Stilling  thy   tempest   to   welcome  me. 

— M.   Pauline  Sc 


m  )ME  CURIOUS  AND  LITTLE 
KNOWN  ANIMALS 


I 
R 

E' 
L 

L 

lb   6 


|l>, ...  general  and  universal  dissemination  ol  knowledge,  then   an 

my  species  and  varieties  of  animals  almost  wholl)  unknown  (..  American  sportsmen  :it  large,  even  their  names 
nfamiliar.    It  is  m>r  purpose  in  a  series  o(  articles  topresenl  the  pictures  ol  the  mosl  interesting  and  unique 
short  des  ription  of  each. — Ed.] 


inn  Australi; 


WILD  DOGS 

iberia.  Im  ?i  matra.  F 


•ica.  China.  Japan,  and  Airica. 


\ZAKA  S     DOG 


HIS  dog,  foxlike  in  appearance, 
li  ing  bodj  and  long,  bushy 
tail.  Its  legs  are  short,  its  ears 
an-  large.  It  is  not  closely  re- 
al -I  to  the  European  fox,  for 
its  skull  is  quite  unlike  that  ani- 
mal's, and  agrees  with  that  of 
the  wolves  and  jackals.  True 
foxes  are  unknown  in  South 
America. 
Although  Azara's  dog  exhibits  some  sea- 
sonable variation  in  color,  as  well  as  in 
the  length  of  fur,  the  general  color  must 
be  described  as  gray  with  black  and  white 
on  the  back,  and  black  patches  on  the  shoul- 
ders, also  on  the  rump.  The  under  parts 
of  the  body  are  almost  white.  The  ears 
are  tipped  with  black,  as  is  the  end  of  the 
tail :  the  genera!  hue  of  which  is  a  mixture 
of  black  and  white.  This  animal  is  really 
beautiful,  and  i-  found  almost  everywhere  in 
South   America    from   Argentina   to   Chile  and 


Brazil.      It   feeds   chiefly   upon    small    animals 

and  birds.  It  is  not  known  to  burrow  on  its 
own  account,  but  in  the  spring— the  breeding 
season — the  female  lives  in  the  hole  of  some 
other  creature,  not  always  a  deserted  hole. 
Indeed,  she  often  takes  up  her  residence  in 
the  home  of  the  rodent  called  Patagonian 
hare  (viscachd),  and  drives  the  rightful  own- 
ers out  of  a  part  of  it.  After  a  time,  the 
unwelcome  stranger  ceases  to  receive  much 
attention,  because  she  is  unassuming  and  gives 
little  trouble.  But  as  soon  as  the  young 
viscachas  are  large  enough  to  leave  their 
kennels,  then  the  dog-fox  makes  them  her 
prey.  Having  a  family  to  provide  for,  she 
will  grow  so  bold  as  to  hunt  her  helpless 
quarry  from  one  hole  to  another,  and  do 
battle  with  the  parents,  and  carry  off  the 
immature  ones  notwithstanding  all  efforts  for 
the  protection  of  the  latter.  In  some  cases, 
after  all  the  juvenile  vizcachas  have  been 
eaten,    and    the    young    Azara    dogs    are    big 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MACAZIXE 


enough  to  follow  their  mother,  the  entire 
family  leaves  the  vigcacha's  burrow  where 
such  cruel  havoc  has  been  made,  to  settle  in 
r  and  to  continue  the  usual  depreda- 
tions in  that  place.  In  a  few  words,  Azara's 
dog,  although  far  from  any  fox  as  far  as 
science  is  concerned,  is  purely  a  fox  in  habits. 

The  death-feigning  instinct  possessed  by 
this  creature  in  company  with  one  of  the 
American  opossums  (Didelphys)  and 
at  lea-t  one  variety  of  partridge  (spotted  tina- 
mou),  i--  sufficiently  remarkable  to  require 
detailed  notice.  When  the  Azara  dog  is 
■  aught  in  a  trap  or  run  down  by  dogs,  it 
at  first  fights  savagely,  but  by  degrees  re- 
laxes,  and  drops  to  the  ground — apparently 
dead.  The  deception  is  so  well  carried  out 
that  dogs  are  often  "taken  in"  by  it.  and 
ii"  man  would  hesitate  to  pronounce  the  crea- 
ture dead.  Nevertheless,  if  one  withdraws 
a  little  way  from  the  feigning  fox-dog,  and 
watches  it  very  attentively,  a  slight  opening 
of  one  or  both  eyes  may  be  detected.  Event- 
ually, when  left  to  itself,  the  animal  does  not 
>tart  up  as  if  it  had  been  stunned,  but  slowly 
and  cautiously  raises  its  head  first,  and  only 
assumi  -  a  natural  position  when  its  enemies 
are  at  a  safe  distance.  It  is  a  fact  that  some 
natives  of  South  America  have  performed 
barbarous  experiments  upon  death-feigning 
Azara  dogs  without  succeeding  in  arousing 
them  into  exhibiting  the  otdinary  signs  of 
life,  and  this  seems  to  show  that  the  death- 
simulating  swoon  is  something  more  than 
a  cunning  habit,  for  if  it  was  merely  such 
a  trick,  no  animal  would  allow  itself  to  be 
wounded  without  wincing.  A  fairly  reason- 
able hypothesis  seems  to  be  that  the  fox- 
dog,  although  not  insensible,  as  its  behavior 
i  m  the  departure  of  its  enemies  seems  to 
prove,  has  its  body  thrown  by  extreme  terror 
int"  that  benumbed  condition  which  simulates 
death,  and  during  which  it  is  unable  to  feel 
the    tortures   practised  upon   it. 

It  i-  most  strange  that  an  animal  so  power- 
ful, tierce  and  able  to  inflict  such  terrible 
injury  with  the  teeth  as  Azara's  dog  can 
inflict,  should  also  possess  the  safeguard  de- 
scribed above,  which  would  appear  more 
suited  to  weak  or  inactive  creatures  that  can 
neither  escape  from  an  enemy  nor  resist  it. 
The  writer  is  unable  to  suggest  the  slightest 
explanation,   and   none   seems   to   be   in   print. 

THE    CAPE     HUNTING    DOG 

This  dog  is  a  distinct  type,  being  differen- 


Dos 


tiated  from  other  dogs  by  the  possession  of 
only  four  toes  on  both  fore  and  hind  limbs, 
and  by  the  possession  of  the  same  number 
of  teeth  as  the  wolf.  In  general  appearance 
it  is  not  unlike  the  hyena,  the  resemblance 
being  due  to  the  ochraceous  gray  ground- 
color with  black  markings,  and  the  long  ears. 
The  vernacular  name  "Cape  Hunting  Dog" 
is  due  to  the  fact  that  the  hunting  is  done 
by  packs  and  not  by  solitary  animals.  The 
range  of  this  dog  is  over  the  more  open 
parts  of  Africa  south  of  the  Sahara  and 
Abyssinia.  It  is  about  as  tall  as  a  gray- 
hound,  its  legs  being  relatively  long  and 
slender,  and  adapted  to  the  swift  and  en- 
during speed  upon  which  it  must  depend 
for  a  livelihood.  The  head  is  broad  and 
flat,  with  a  short  muzzle  armed  with  massive 
teeth,   somewhat   large,   upstanding   furry   ears. 


- 

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Cape  Huntins  Do 


I  A'\    /■//:/./' 


and  a  suggestion  of  the  hyena  in  the  physi- 
ognomy. The  likeness  to  the  last-named  ani- 
mal— even  to  the  spotted  hyena — however,  is 
wholly  superficial.  The  fur  is  short,  thick. 
smooth,  but  is  most  shaggy  about  the  cheeks 
and  throat.  The  tail  is  long  and  wolf-like. 
Although  the  dog's  general  color  i>  yellowish- 
gray,  as  lias  already  been  mentioned,  it  is 
often  marked  most  irregularly  with  a  variety 
of  colors,  such  as  a  combination  of  red. 
white,  yellow,  and  even  black  spots.  It  is 
probably  correct  to  say  that  of  all  mammals 
the  hyena-dog  presents  the  greatest  variety  of 
distinct    hues. 

The  voice  of  the  Cape  Hunting  Dog  consists 
of  three  different  kinds  of  cry.  each  being  used 
"ii  special  occasion-.  One  of  these  is  a  short, 
angry  hark,  usually  uttered  when  some  un- 
recognized object  is  seen.  Another  resembles 
a  number  of  monkeys  chattering  together — a 
very  unusual  cry  for  dogs.  This  sound  is 
emitted  at  night  when  large  numbers  of  the 
animals  are  together,  and  they  are  excited  by 
some  special  occurrence,  such  as  being  barked 
at  by  domestic  dogs.  The  third  cry  is  said  to 
resemble  the  second  note  of  the  (  so-called ) 
English  cuckoo,  and  its  significance  does  ii'>; 
appear  to  be  known. 


In  the  Southern  Sudan,  where  these  animals 
are  abundant,  the  German  writer,  Schwein- 
furth  {The  Heart  0/  Africa)  saw  one  speci- 
men that  was  quite  tame,  requiring  no  restraint 
beyond  a  chain,  and  obeyed  its  owner  with  all 
the  docility  of  an  ordinary  dog.  This  observa- 
tion seems  to  corroborate  the  assertion  of  I-i\- 
ingstonc  that  the  natives  of  the  Kalahari  disert 
are  in  the  habit  oi  taming  the  hyena-dog 
training  it  for  hunting  purposes. 

To  the  Africans  generally,  both  white  and 
black,  the  hyena-dog  is  one  of  the  most  truly 
wild  and  dangerous  animals  of  the  country, 
taking  the  place  of  the  wolves  of  the  northern 
part  of  the  world.  The  Cape  Hunting  Dogs 
gathered  into  packs,  and  astonished  and  terri- 
fied the  early  settlers  and  explorers  by  their 
numbers,  audacity  and  strange  cries.  They 
frequented  plains  and  scantily  forested  Or 
bushy  regions,  where  the  small  antelopes  were 
plentiful,  for  these  creatures  were  their  chief 
prey.  They  pursued  them  in  concert,  al- 
though in  some  cases  only  two  dogs  worked 
together,  until  the  battled  victim,  sometimes  of 
the  larger  species,  was  cornered  or  exhausted. 
and  could  be  pulled  down.  The  hyena-dogs 
were  a  terribly  scourge  to  the  sheep  am 
of  the  early  frontier  farmers,  a-  tl 


/  HE  PACIFH    I  OAS  I   MAGAZINE 


mangled  manj  more  of  the  flock  in  one  of 
their  nocturnal  forays  than  they  could  possibh 
eat.  The  war  waged  against  them  in  conse 
quence  of  their  attacks,  and  the  diminution  of 
the  wild  game,  has  caused  a  great  decrease 
in  their  numbers;  hut  numerous  bands  still 
range  in  the  wilds  of  East  and  Central  Africa. 
and  the  deserts  west  and  north  of  Cape  Colony. 
Further  details  can  he  obtained  from  Selous' 
"A   Hunter's  Wanderings,"  published  in   1890. 

THK  DINGO 

The  improbability  of  Australia  possessing  a 
native  placental  mammal  of  fairly  large  size, 
and  the  fact  that  the  dingo  is  not  found  in 
Tasmania  or  New  Zealand,  lend  force  to  the 
belief  that  it  must  be  a  dog  of  Asiatic  origin 
brought  to  Australia  by  the  aborigines,  and 
that  it  gradually  became  feral.  It  was  at  one 
time  believed  that  the  dingo,  which  was  the 
only  placental  mammal  found  in  Australia  be- 
fore the  introduction  of  European  species, 
might  possibly  be  the  descendant  of  the  do- 
mestic dog  run  wild,  but  this  has  been  dis- 
proved by  the  discovery  of  its  remains  in  the 
quarternary  strata  of  continental  Australia. 
Nevertheless,  it  is  possible  that  the  ancestors 
of  the  dingo  were  introduced  by  quarternary 
man. 

The  dingo  is  a  little  less  than  two  feet  high, 
and  is  about  two  and  a  half  feet  in  length.  In 
color  it  varies  greatly,  some  examples  being 
to  a  considerable  extent  black,  while  others 
are  pale  brown.  Although  in  a  wild  state  these 
animals  do  not  bark  or  growl,  tame  specimens 
placed  among  domestic  dogs  soon  learn  to 
ban;  When  teased,  the  dingo  does  not  utter 
any  sound,  but  raises  its  ncad  to  an  erect 
position  and  becomes  furious.  Its  prowess  as 
a  hunter  is  only  too  well  known  to  the  shep- 
herds of  Australia  from  its  depredations 
among  the  flocks.  A  pack  of  from  eighty  to  a 
hundred  animals  of  the  dingo  species  will  pur- 
sue the  prey,  running  with  heads  high  and. 
cars  erect,  till  a  killing  occurs.  When  oppor- 
tunity offers,  much  more  is  killed  than  can  by 
any  possibility  be  eaten.  This  seems  to  indi- 
cate love  of  hunting. 

The  dingo  is  domesticated  by  the  native 
Australians  in  all  parts  of  the  continent,  the 
puppies  being  found  in  hollow  trees  and  simi- 
lar places  where  the  female  animals  make  their 
lair.  All  native  Australians  treat  these  puppies 
kindly,  and  the  latter  become  faithful  com- 
panions as  well  as  good  assistants  to  their 
own;rs  in  the  search  for  opossums  and  other 


fc^        _^A. 

A 

K 

*  JL'^iS*^ 

i   »  :! 

?^\ 

~-*»***P3 

^^^^^ 

creatures  which  the  black  men  of  Australia 
use  as  food.  These  men,  however,  kill  and 
eat  the  wild  dingo,  disemboweling  it  and  then 
roasting  the  carcass  whole  in  the  earth  under 
a  fire. 

With  the  advance  of  civilization,  the  dingo, 
like  the  native  races  to  which  it  is  a  com- 
panion, has  gradually  disappeared  from  large 
parts  of  southern  and  eastern  Australia,  and 
its  numbers  are  elsewhere  steadily  decreasing. 
Its  complete  extermination  as  a  wild  animal 
is  not  improbable,  because  it  is  a  serious  men- 
ace to  sheep.  Its  local  extermination,  how- 
ever, has  more  than  once  been  followed  by 
such  a  great  increase  of  grass-eating  marsu- 
pials, upon  which  it  preyed,  that  special  efforts 
have  been  necessary  to  kill  them  off. 

THE   INDIAN    "WILD"   DOG. 

The  Indian  wild  dog  which  inhabits  the  for- 
ested parts  of  the  entire  Himalayan  region, 
the  treeless  area  of  Eastern  Thibet,  and  south- 


Indian  Wild  Dog) 


II  I  STEKA   FIELD 


ward  as  far  as  the  great  forests  of  India,  is 
usually  known  by  the  name  dhole.  The  buansu, 
peculiar  to  northern  India,  is  merely  a  variety 
of  dhole. 

The  chief  characteristic  of  the  Indian  wild 
dogs  is  that  they  hunt  in  packs,  and  do  not 
utter  any  sound  while  hunting.  When  once  a 
pack  of  these  creatures  has  started  any  animal, 
whether  deer  or  tiger,  that  animal's  doom  is 
sealed.  Some  part  of  the  pack  will  follow  the 
prey  for  days,  and  will  finally  bring  it  to  bay, 
or  run  it  down  exhausted.  The  dhole  is  in- 
ferior in  many  respects  to  a  trained  domestic 
dog,  but  it  is  not  difficult  to  tame  the  former, 
and  teach  it  to  hunt  for  the  use  of  man. 

The  Indian  dog  differs  from  the  Siberian 
dog  in  having  smaller  molar  teeth.  Its  gen- 
eral build  is  not  wolflike,  but  jackal-like,  which 
is  shown  by  the  comparative  shortness  of  the 
legs.  The  average  length  of  the  animal  is 
somewhat  less  than  forty  inches,  exclusive  of 
the  tail  which,  with  the  hair,  may  lie  .-aid  to 
measure  fifteen  inches.  The  usual  color  of 
this  dog's  upper  parts  is  red ;  the  under  parts 
are  less  red.  Some  specimens  that  are  in 
museums  are  a  grayish  brown.  As  to  speed 
and  agility,  the  Indian  dog  is  slower  than  the 


jackal  and  decidedly  more  clumsv  than  the 
fox. 

The  term  "wild"  dog  is  hardly  satisfactory, 
because  it  gives  the  idea  that  the  animal  named 
represents  the  ancestral  stock  of  some  domes- 
tic dog.  This  is  not  the  case  with  the  "wild" 
dogs  of  India  or  Siberia. 

Such  Indian  dogs  as  the  pariah  and  the 
poligar — a  large  animal  peculiar  to  Southern 
India — must  be  classed  as  "domestic"  dogs, 
although  their  habits  are  far  from  "domestic." 
they  are  merely  mongrels  that  have  neither 
home  nor  owner,  and  they  are  often  half 
starved. 

THE   FEN  NEC. 

The  fennec,  the  smallest  of  the  canine  tribe., 
is  a  pretty  little  fox-like  animal  of  the  Sahara. 
It  is  almost  fifteen  inches  long,  excluding  its 
tail  .which  is  nearly  seven  inches  in  length, 
and  bushy  like  that  of  a  fox.  The  general 
color  of  the  animal  is  pale  rufous  cream,  har- 
monizing with  the  desert  sands  of  Africa.  The 
breast,  the  inside  of  the  ears,  and  the  eyelids 
are  white.  The  tail  is  tipped  with  black.  The 
erect  ears  are  of  enormous  size — each  ear  be- 
ing as  large  as  the  little  creature's  face,  giving 
to  the  entire  head  a  strange  air  of  intense  alert- 
ness. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


The  fennec  digs  in  the  sand  with  such  re- 
markable speed  that  it  not  infrequently  es- 
capes pursuit  by  fairly  diving  into  the  burrow. 
which  is  furnished  with  soft  bedding,  is  re- 
markably clean,  and  in  it  the  animal  sleeps 
most  of  the  day.  At  dusk  it  steals  cautiously 
to  some  drinking-place,  and  later  seeks  its 
prey,  which  consists  of  mice,  small  birds, 
lizards  and  insects. 

The  name  "fennec",  it  should  be  remem- 
bered is  sometimes  extended  to  other  African 
species  which  are  closely  related  to  the  little 
creature  given  in  the  accompanying  illustra- 
tion. 

It  has  been  said  that  no  pet  animal  can  rival 
the  fennec  in  grace  and  interest.  Not  above 
half  the  size  of  a  cat,  it  has  all  the  wiles  and 
actions  of  a  fox,  and  when  alarmed  by  the 
sight  of  a  stranger  it  will  run  under  a  chair  or 
into  a  corner,  and  vociferously  give  forth  its 
tiny  bark.  In  captivity  the  fennec  is  usually 
fed  on  milk  and  morsels  of  meat,  but  it  is  apt 
to  show  a  truly  remarkable  fondness  for  dates. 
The  wild  animals  are  able  to  climb  the  date 
palms  to  get  the  fruit. 

The  fur  of  the  fennec  is  valued  by  the 
natives,  and  is  said  to  be  the  warmest  of 
African  skins. 

THE   RACCOON    DOC. 

.  The  raccoon'dog  is  a  small  animal  of  East- 
ern China  and  Japan,  which  is  said  to  re- 
semble a  miniature  raccoon,  especially  about 
the  head.  It  lives  in  burrows,  gathers  most 
of  its  food — fish  and  mice — along  the  banks  of 
the  rivers,  and  is  often  kept  in  captivity,  es- 
pecially by  the  Japanese,  who  eat  its  flesh,  and 
value  its  fur,  which  is  long  and  grizzled.  This 
dog's  muzzle  is  sharp ;  its  ears  are  short ;  its 
tail  is  not  extensive,  but  it  is  bushy. 

The  raccoon  dog  is  a  semi-nocturnal  animal, 
living  in  summer  in  the  mountains,  and  in  the 
winter  in  the  river-valleys,  where  it  is  said 
to  hibernate.  If  this  hibernation  really  occurs, 
it  is  remarkable,  for  no  other  member  of  the 
family  indulges  in  a  winter  sleep.  The  natives 
(chiefly  in  Japan)  assert  that  this  hibernation 
takes  place  in  the  burrow  of  a  fox,  or  some 
other  animal,  but  the  creature  is  able  to  make 
a  burrow  of  its  own.  It  is  certain  that  some 
raccoon-dogs  do  not  hibernate,  for  they  have 
been  seen  in  winter  crossing  the  ice  of  the 
frozen  rivers  by  means  of  a  succession  of 
jumps. 


Raccoon  Dnas 


mi 

\rjQ> 

m 

m^-?  ■. 

SSJ  ^^H^^^> 

S^fr*-"*1--" 

mm    --as**- 

Malay  Wild  Do 


iberian  Wild  Do 


animals  ha  • 
Being  almost   omni 

n  easily  be  killed  bj  p> «i ^' ui     In  summei 

clusively  on  mice,  which 

i  Liit.  however, 

sometimes   forms  a  minor  part  of  their  diel 

\-  raccoon  dogs  do  not  kill  chickens  or  other 

■  birds,  they  arc  not  infrequently  per- 

to    make    their    winter    homes    under 

1  alande's  dog  is  a  -^mall  animal,  smallei  than 
the  common  fox,  distinguished  externally  by 
its  large  car-,  covered  with  fur,  which  are 
nearly  equal  to  the  head  in  length.     In  color 

I lii ^  animal   is  of  a  uniform  gray,  except   upon 

the  limbs,  which  are  darker,  and  the  tail,  which 

has  long  black  hair,  and  is  very  bushy.     It   is 

.i  native  oi  Southern  Africa,  and  is  more  like 

the    fennec    than    any   other   creature.     As    it 

lues  in  the  open  country,  and  is  very  shy,  it  is 

II  known,  although  many  hunters  have 

-ecu  it  at  a  distance.     It  is  especially  interest 

one  of  the  most  aberrant  of  the  canidac, 

account    of   its   unusual   dentition.      In 

the    hnver   jaw    it    invariably    has    four    molar 

teeth — one   more    than    any   other    member   of 

i he   family.     In  the  upper  jaw  it  has  three  or 

four   molars,    whereas   all   other   living   canines 

onlj   t«"      Some  anatomists  look  upon 

an  indication  of  marsupial  ancestry. 

The   eyes   of    I  .alande's   dog   are   large;    the 

limbs  are  longer  than  in  the  common  fox,  but 

the  tail  is  proportionately  shorter. 

South  African  hunters  call  this  creature  the 
"long-eared  Cape  fox" ;  they  say  that  it  lives 
under  small  hushes,  and  that  it  is  generally  ac- 
companied by  it-  mate  wherever  it  may  he 
seen 

THE    SIBERIAN     "WILD"    DOG. 

The  Siberian  Wild  Dog  inhabits  the  for- 
ested regions  of  Northern  Asia  as  far  south 
as  the  Altai  Mountains,  and  subsists  almost 
entirely  on  deer,  which  it  hunts  in  companies, 


pursuing  them  so  constantly  that  it  is  said 
occasional!)   to  I       twaj  all  the 

deer   in   certain   districts.     It   also   hunts   the 

o.ii  i  iii  the  high  mountains.    It    ; 
that  thi  ii    dog  changes  its  sumnv  i 

coat    Of    fox   red    for    a    long    and    woolly    winter 

oi    yellowish  white,    as    do    the    Arctic 

foxes.      In    the    Altai    .Mountains   the    Siberian 

i    from  a  dozen  to  twenty 

individuals,  led  by  an  old  male.    They  usually 

sell  cl  qui  deer  for  their  prey. 

I  he  Siberian  dogs  are  distinguished  from 
all  other  species  by  the  absence  of  the  last 
molar  tooth  on  each  side  of  the  lower  jaw, 
SO   that    the   total   number  of  teeth   is   forty   in 

stead  of  forty-two.  The  other  distinguishing 
features  of  these  animals  are  tne  short  muzzle 

and  the  presence  of  long  hair-  between  the 
pads  of  the  feet.  The  Siberian  dog  is  a  hand- 
some fellow,  his  splendid  bushy  tail,  about 
half  the  length  of  his  head  ami  body,  adding 

much  to  his  appearance. 

THE    MALAY    "WILD"    

The  Malay  wild  dog  is  a  small  specie-  of 
dhole,  which  is  found  east  of  the  Provinci  ot 
Bengal,  throughout  the  Malay  Peninsula,  as 
well  as  in  Java.  Sumatra  and  perhaps  Borneo 
Whether  the  wild  dog  of  Upper  Burmah  be- 
longs to  this  species  or  to  the  Indian  wild- 
dog  species  is  doubtful,  and  this  doubt  gives 
support  to  the  opinion  of  some  naturalists 
that  these  Eastern  forms  are  not  specifically 
separated  from  the  Indian  form. 

The  Malay  wild  dog  is  smaller,  and  more 
slender  in  body  and  limbs  than  the  Indian 
dhole.  It  has  shorter  and  harsher  hair  of  a 
deep  red  color.  Its  general  habits  appear  to 
be  those  of  the  Indian  dog. 

The  length  of  the  combined  head  and  body 
of  a  Malay  dog  is  about  thirty-four  inches;  its 
tail  is  about  a  foot  long.  Although  this  ani- 
mal's general  color  is  red.  the  under-parts  of 
some  forms  are  grayish-white. 


SONG  OF  THE  RATTLESNAKE 

c 

OME 

Let  us  play  at  the  old,  old  game, 

The 

only   game  for  me. 

Of 

ife  and  death,   when 

the  fluttering  breath 

u 

lie  pri 

zc  of  the  victory. 

-vll 

Did 

you   think  I   would 

slink  awav? 

Tis 

the  coward   who  turns  to 

flee. 

1    - 

ake   m 

y  life  for  the  jov  of 

strife 

Ih. 

ugh   d 

i-ath   at  the  end  I   se 

-Bcrta  Hart  Nance. 

THE  PACIFIC  CO. 1ST  MAGAZINE 


■• 


NORTHLAXn  VISTAS 


LEWIS  B.  FRANCE 

AN   APPRECIATION 


By   In  \\  k   II     Mayer 


1 1 1  \    I    saw    liim    for   the    first 
time,     over     half     a    lifetime 
ago,  he  «as  >i t tinn  on  a  curb- 
stone   iTi    one    of    the    main 
streets  of  I  (en\  er,  in  the  midst 
of    an    appreciative     bevy    of 
freckled     urchins,     busily  en- 
i     in    the    renovation    oi 
a    battered    top,    the   property 
of  the  smallest  ami  best  freck- 
led   kill    iii   the   bunch,    who    was    loud    in    bis 
commendation    <>t"   the    "dandy   job"    that    the 
"old  Judge"  was  making  of  it 

"G'wan!"  said  tbe  proud  proprietor, 
when,  alter  the  jurist  bad  proceeded  on  his 
way.  1  mischievously  ventured  to  criticise 
the  point  angle  of  bis  just  as  good-as-new 
Spinner,  "Wat  t'  'ell  yousc  know  about 
it'  I  )e  nil-  Judge  has  forgot  more  about 
tops  'n  tings  'n  youse  ever  will  learn.  Hit 
de  trail.  Bill — yer  wanted  at  de  foolisb 
house."  Whereupon,  being  properly  re- 
buked.   I    went   on   my    way.    wondering. 

\nd  I've  been  wondering  ever  since — 
first  at  the  near  to  omniscience  of  the  man. 
and  second  bow  he  was  always  able  to  find 
time,  in  tbe  exactions  of  an  excessively 
over-occupied  professional  career,  for  the 
amelioration  of  some  ill,  for  the  restoration 
of  some  shattered  hope,  for  tbe  retiming 
of  some  false  chord  in  the  harmony  of 
Life  as  God  intended  it  and  as  Lewis  B. 
France  accomplished  it.  For  the  life  of 
my  friend  was  one  of  gentle  joy-giving  to 
oilier-;  his,  always,  being  the  personal  sa- 
crifice  that   paid   the  inevitable   price. 

When,  on  tbe  evening  of  that  memorable 
day  of  the  top-fixing,  I  read  in  the  daily- 
papers  that  he  bad  appeared  late  in  court 
to  try  one  of  tbe  most  important  libel  suits 
known  in  the.  history  of  jurisprudence,  1 
swore  a  great  oath  that  I  would  be  his 
friend — unknown  and  unrecked  by  him,  pet- 
baps,  hut  not  the  less  a  friend  as  men  inter- 
pri  :    tbe   term,   ready   to    strike   a   blow    in    his 


defense  or  to  share,  if  the  need  aris.-.  the 
meagre  possessions  that  fall  commonly  to 
the  lot  of  a  bumble  cowpuncher.  That 
man  who  would  stop  on  the  road  to  fame 
and  wealth  to  repair  the  penny  top  ol  a 
sorrowing    gutter-snipe    bad    a    moral    right 

to   ride   my   horse,   share     my     grub     and 

blankets,  and  a  two-fold  right  to  find  mr 
at  bis  shoulder  when  he  needed  another 
arm  and  another  gun.  For  he  was  ,1] 
white — and  that  is  saying  much  in  these 
days  of  moral,  mental  and  physical  bait- 
breeds. 

And  the  wisdom  of  the  Man!  Vs  tbe 
urchin  put  it.  he  had  truly  forgotten  more 
about  most  things  than  tbe  average  man 
ever  learns,  but  the  glory  of  it  was  that  he 
vividly  remembered — and  practised — all 
that  was  good  and  sweet  and  timely  in  the 
trial  of  Living,  over  which  he  was  always 
the  lenient  and  sympathetic  presiding 
Judge  whose  code  was  Love  and  whose 
rulings  were  tender  gentleness  for  and 
kindly  indulgence  of  the  unfortunate  er- 
ring. Not  but  what  he  was  just  and  in- 
cisive in  his  decisions,  for  he  was  justice 
personified  and  ethical  almost  to  a  fault. 
The  word  jars,  for  his  faults  as  1  knew 
them — and  it  was  given  to  me  to  be  closer 
to  him  than  most  men — all  leaned  to  virtue  - 
side.  I  found  no  fault  in  his  scathing  de- 
nunciations of  contemptible  things  and  un- 
worthy men,  denunciations  couched  in  vig- 
orous and  unique  language  that  was.  to  say 
the  least,  unparliamentary  if  not  exactly 
unprintable,  for  he  swore  as  earnestly  as  he 
prayed,  hated  as  deeply  as  he  loved — and 
when  his  ire  had  passed  lay  awake  of  nights 
trying  to  find  palliating  motives  and  ex- 
cusing  conditions  for  the  things  of  his 
strenuous   vituperation. 

The  why  and  how  of  our  coming  together 
fairly  typifies  the  man's  nature.  A  little 
sketch  of  mine,  written  in  the  solitude  of 
the    Colorado    backwoods,   attracted   his   at- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


tention — he  was  an  omniverous  reader — and 
lie  wasted  enough  of  his  invaluable  time  to 
write  me  a  letter  so  full  of  encouragement 
and  kindly  cheer,  that  it  had  a  marked  in- 
fluence on  my  whole  life.  And  our  first 
meeting  was  as  characteristic.  Me  looked 
long  in  my  eyes,  handled  me  all  over,  and 
gave  me  his  last  cigar.  It  was  a  very  vile 
one.  as  I  remember,  for  his  taste  in  rolled 
leaf  was  execrable  while  his  choice  of  pipe 
filler  was  beyond  reproach.  Then  he  asked 
abruptly,  "How  are  you  fixed — need  any 
money?"  For  he  had  learned,  somehow, 
that  1  had  come  to  town  'strapped"  after 
a  ten  years'  siege  of  continual  reverses.  It 
took  all  my  nerve  to  look  him  in  the  eye 
and  disclaim  any  urgent   necessity. 

"You're  lying,  son,"  he  said  tersely,  but 
he  was  wise  enough  not  to  press  the  mat- 
ter further.  Yet  somehow  I  was  offered  a 
position  on  a  local  magazine  the  next  morn- 
ing and  thereafter  my  doorstep  knew  the 
wolf  no  more. 

In  the  years  that  followed  we  got  close 
in  touch,  and  when  I  got  so  that  I  could 
look  intelligently  down  into  the  deeps  of 
his  great  soul  and  realize  the  immensity  of 
it.  I  was  as  one  standing  on  the  edge  of  the 
great  Canon  of  the  Colorado,  irresistibly 
attracted  to  the  trembling  view  of  its  infini- 
tude, its  wealth  of  color,  and  heart-clutching 
sublimity,  yet  shrinking  with  a  sense  of  my 
own  inferiority  and  comparative  littleness. 
And  yet  in  the  hours  of  intimate  communion, 
when  he  rolled  undignifiedly  over  the  floor 
with  my  babies,  I  marvelled  to  note  how- 
material  a  mere  man  he  was,  a  man  who 
would  rather  be  a  beast  of  burden  for  my 
exacting  brats  than  sit  enthroned  in  the  high 
places  of  state.  When  I  would  indignantly 
remonstrate  with  the  squalling  kids  for  their 
imposition  on  his  good  nature  and  their 
desecration  of  the  proprieties,  he  would  gather 
them  in  his  arms  and  say  sharply,  "Let  be ! 
I  love  'em  and  they  love  me.  Don't  grudge 
me  and  the  little  ones  the  sweetness  that  must 
all  too  soon  pass."  And  all  children  loved 
him  and  tagged  after  him  as  they  did  after 
the  Pied  Piper — with  this  difference :  that 
they  all  came  back  again,  happier  from  the 
tender  comradeship. 

The  details  of  his  birth,  rearing,  and 
wanderings  f  will  not  inject  here.  These 
are  the  especial  province  of  his  biographers 
who    will    make   them   their   charge,   and   be- 


sides,  they   are   of  'small    importance    in 
estimation    like    this. 


The    Ma 


is    but   the    guin 
the  goold   for 


thai  I 


Suffice  it  to  say  he  was  a  Southern  gentle- 
man of  the  old  school,  imbued  with  all  the 
traditions  of  his  chivalrous  forbears,  a  man 
whose  veneration  for  women  approximated 
almost  to  idolatry  of  the  sex.  'Clean  in 
thought  and  deed,  he  never  was  guilty  of 
telling  a  risque  story,  nor  would  he  listen  to 
one.  God  was  good — rather  say  just — to  him 
in  giving  him  his  ideal  and  affinity  for  a  wife. 
What  she  was  to  him  he  expressed  pathet- 
ically when,  with  tears  streaming  down  his 
face  he  laid  his  head  on  my  shoulder  at  her 
taking  and  moaned:  "It  is  so  dark — so  dark! 
The  light  has  gone  out."  And' blessed  was 
he  in  his  children,  the  fair  daughter  who 
preceded  him  to  make  clear  his  path  in  the 
Vale  of  Shadows,  the  stalwart  son  who  dig- 
nifies and  ennobles  his  high  and  responsible 
profession.  It  seems  to  me  that,  consider- 
ing these  and  the  thousands  of  true  friends 
that  loved  and  honored  him.  he  got  his  deserts 
in  this  world.  And  in  the  next — ?  Well, 
there  is  but  one  reward  for  a  life  spent  in 
rectitude  and  w'ell  doing. 

With  his  great  versatility  and  thorough  edu- 
cation, his  natural  adaptibility  and  love  for 
literature,  it  naturally  follows  that  Judge 
France  was  an  author.  His  extended,  varied 
and  unique  experiences  on  the  frontier  have 
been  reflected  in  many  volumes  and  contri- 
butions to  the  press,  all  of  them  embodying 
the  natural  delicacy  of  the  writer,  strength- 
ened by  the  uncompromising  honesty  and 
characteristic  accuracy  that  were  such  promi- 
nent factors  in  all  his  dealings  with  things 
abstract  and  concrete.  No  human  being  but 
is  better  for  the  reading  of  them,  and  in 
-.tying    that,    all   is    said. 

Of  his  skill  as  a  lawyer  I  shall  say  but  little, 
for  frankly  speaking  I  have  but  little  use  for 
the  profession,  and  always  deemed  so  sweet 
a  character  as  my  friend's  wasted  on  a  guild 
who  make  a  living  by  taking  advantage  of 
other  people's  mistakes  and  misfortunes.  As 
I  once  remarked  to  him,  his  being  in  the 
law  reminded  me  of  nothing  so  forcibly  as 
of  a  cluster  of  wood-violets  tied  with  a  hang- 
man's rope.  Yet  he  was  esteemed  a  great 
and  able  lawyer,  clean,  honorable  and  in- 
tensely  ethical    in    his   practice,   and    it   yielded 


WESTi  A'.v  FIELD 


living  Vs  a  mutual  friend  once  re 
in  rked  "God  made  i  lawyer  of  France  so 
a  much  needed  ele- 
ment of  dignity  "  The  died  a 
comparative!)  poor  man  in  th 
queer  legal  convolutions  i-  reassuring  to  the 
public;  to  we,  who  knew  him,  the  proof  i- 
ions 

man,  my  friend  was  an  enthus 
icperi  angler  »Ih> 
nothing  Defter  than  to  wade  the  reaches  of 
his  much  loved  mountain  trout  streams  rod 
in  hand.  Hi-  invariably  put  back  into  the 
water  the  larger  part  of  the  troul  he  caught, 
:iii<l  it  was  his  reiterated  assertion  that  he 
never  had  creeled  the  legal  limit — and  never 
would  He  had  a  firmly  established  theory 
that  the  hooking  of  trout  caused  them  no 
pain,  and  therefor  had  no  scruples  in  en- 
joying  the  spori  of  their  taking.  Hunter  he 
was  none,  his  achievements  in  that  direction 
attaining  t"  only  one  head  of  big  game,  a 
mountain  sheep,  whose  killing  was  a  source 
of  poignanl  and  never  ending  regret  to  him. 

Simple  as  a  child,  gentle  a-  a  woman,  strong 
and  brave  as  a  true  man  need-  be  to  keep 
his  hands  and  his  name  clean  in  this  age  of 
great  temptations,  it  is  borne  in  upon  me 
thai  1  -hall  never  look  on  hi-  like  again, 
and  the  conviction  brings  a  pang  the  more 
i  for  the  thought  of  what  I  lose  in 
the  severance  of  our  intimate  communion:  It 
is  hard  to  he  unselfish  and  resigned  in  the 
f  one'-  greatest  loss,  and  friendship 
a-  he  knew  and  exercised  that  tender  func- 
tion  was   a   holy  and  priceless   thing. 

\-  I  -it  here  in  the  dusk  of  the  soft  Cali- 
fornia gloaming,  thousands  of  miles  from  the 
place  where  he  rests  in  the  land  so  well 
beloved  l>>  us  both,  1  am  strangely  comforted 
by    the    prescience    that   he   is    with    me.    even 


now,  and    I    feel  once  mor<    tin-  old   familiar 

on    of     hand-    ami     lu.ir     his     whispel 

"My   boy— it   i.«   all    well      Have   faith .'" 

But  there  i-  emptiness  where  I  clutch  in  my 
longing,  and   now   the  night   i-   I 

Faith!  Yes,  old  friend.  For  there  i-  that 
which  inspire-  faith  and  adoration  for  the 
which  caused  You  to  be,  and  in  the 
divine  generosity  which  lent  you  to  us  for 
a  period  beyond  the  allotted  age  of  man. 
Faith — yes,  and   Hop,-' 

iugh    a    tear    mist    Of    which     I    am    not 

ashamed    I    finger,  reverently  if  unseeingly, 

the   fishing   tackle    which    was   hi-  tender   legacy 

to   me.     Perfect   in   all   their  dainty  appoint 

nient-     with     the     rare     perfection     that     ever 

characterized    the-  man    and    hi-    belongings, 

these    roil-    and    reel-    and    line-    stand    for    all 

that   is   ideal   in   sportsmanship.     Never   were 

they  unworthily  used  and  SO  I  consecrate 
them  to  hi-  memory — no  hand  -hall  ever  em- 
ploy them  again,  not  even  though  in  reverent 

emulation  of  his  unstained  art.  Sanctified  by 
the  memory  of  what  ha-  gone  before,  I  lay 
them  on  the  altar  of  Affection  where  no  hand 
may   profane. 

Soldier  of  God.  poet  of  Nature,  friend  of 
Man — sleep  well !  But  a  little  time  and  then 
at  the  Summons  I,  too.  will  stumble  eagerly- 
over  the  great  divide,  following  according  to 
my  meagre  lights  the  difficult  trail  you  have 
set  for  posterity.  And  when  I  have  at  last 
crossed  the  Range  I  know  1  will  find,  wait- 
ing me  at  the  ford  of  the  dark  stream,  the 
outstretched  hand  that  will  again  lead — even 
as  in  this  life  it  led — my  faltering  steps  across 
the  rough  and  dangerous  places,  up  into  the 
open  camp  besides  the  flashing  waters  that 
purl  through  the  lu-h  meadows  in  the  Valley 
of  Ture  Delights 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


THE  SLUMBER  OF  DAY 

|.\'TO   his  gentle  arms   Dusk  draws  the   Day, 
And  softly  round  her  folds  his  mantle  gray. 
Lulling   to   sleep   with   murmurs   of   the   night. 
The  breezes  pause  to  kiss  her  as  they  stray, 
And   eyes  of  heaven   with   calm  and  tender  ray 
Guard   as  she  sleeps,  until  the  coming  light. 

—Sara    C.    Pol, 


4~*-~ 


WESTERN  III/  /> 


A  TRIP  TO  THE  LITTLE  SUR 


l'.\  Dr.  U.  F.  Coleman 


N  THE  evening  "i"  the  second 
day  nt  last  July  as  I  slipped  the 
office  door  key  into  place  and 
threw  the  latch  as  usual,  my 
eye-,  rested  nervously  on  the  bit 
of  white  paper  on  the  glass 
panel.  "Back  in  two  weeks." 
Yes.  that  was  it — a  hard  earned 
few  days'  resi  and  recreation 
were  on.  Nervous?  Well  1 
should  say  so — worse  than  when  the  sixteenth 
crack  of  my  first  rifle  echoed  and  re-echoed. 
as  over  the  brow  of  yon  hill  trotted  the  little 
tleet-footed  forked-horn.  As  1  withdrew  the 
key  I  ejaculated.  "There  stay,  trouble  and  toil, 
by  thunder,  for  two  weeks  anyway." 

"What's  the  trouble,  Doc?"  asked  a  passing 
friend.    "What  are  you  so  pale  about  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  nothing  at  all,  only  I'm  off  to 
the  Sur,"  I  quickly  added  as  I  noticed  a  pe- 
culiar expressi"ii  pass  over  my  friend's  face. 
From  how  many  more  friends  I  forced  that 
peculiar  expression  that  evening  it  is  hard  to 
tell.  At  any  rate,  with  "Better  half",  "Young 
Hopeful",  bag  and  baggage,  we  made  the 
morning  train  for  Monterey.  Arriving  there 
we  found  that  final  arrangements  could  not  be 


made    till    the    following    morning,    when    the 
stage  left  for  down  the  coast. 

"Better  half"  was  up  and  dressed  at  five  the 
following  morning,  enthused  with  the  idea  of  a 
lovely  stage  ride.  I  just  hummed  and  looked 
blandly  out  the  window.  Monterey  stage  lines 
and  Monterey  County  miles  are  noted,  and  I 
was  no  greenhorn.  "Better  half"  also  glanced 
out  the  window.  "Oh!  just  look  at  that  dilapi- 
dated rig  those  poor  old  horses  are  hitched  to 
1  wonder  if  they  have  been  standing  there  all 
night  ?" 

"The  stage  driver  must  want  an  early  start 
on  the  Fourth  of  July.  I  was  afraid  he  might 
be  a  little  tardy."  Our  meditations  were  cut 
short  by  a  tremendous  volley  from  the  Pre- 
sidio above  us.  Uncle  Sam's  salute  to  his 
birthday. 

Presently  a  sawed-off.  red-nosed  Scan 
dinavian  appeared,  loading  some  boxes  into 
the  old  trap.  So  I  proceeded  to  interview  the 
worthy  individual,  who  point  blank  informed 
me  that  there  was  no  room  for  baggage.  After 
a  little  argument  pro  and  con  our  driver 
blandly  suggested  that  he  might  find  room,  or 
possibly  tie  it  on  and  drag  it  for  the  nominal 
sum  of  three  bucks. 


THE  PACIFIC  C0AS1   MAGAZINE 


25 


Rather  than  have  further  delays  I  meekly 
submitted  to  the  robbery,  but  took  pains  to 
inform  his  noble  Swedeship  that  if  his  gall  sack 
should  ever  rupture  it  would  surely  drown 
him ;  but  as  he  already  had  a  goodly  load  of 
"preventive"  aboard  he  seemed  secure  from 
such  misfortune. 

As  "Better  half"  was  helped  into  the  rear 
scat  of  the  old  buckhoard  I  noticed  an  ex- 
pression of  disappointment  in  her  eyes ;  the 
phantom  of  prancing  steeds,  popping  whips, 
cushioned  seats,  etc.,  had  faded.  However,  all 
unpleasantness  was  soon  forgotten  in  the  grand 
scenery  about  us  as  the  road  wound  through 
the  massive  pine  groves  covering  Carmel  Hill. 
Then  came  the  descent  from  this  needle- 
shrouded  height,  where  the  panorama  changes, 
Carmel  Mission,  one  of  the  patriarchs  of  the 
State,  looming  forth  with  a  beautiful,  peaceful, 
dark  blue  bay  lapping  at  its  base.  With  every 
turn  of  the  road  new  and  refreshing  scenes 
greet  you — that  is,  if  you  are  in  the  mood  to 
enjoy  them.  Sometimes  almost  upon  the 
beach  with  the  spray  of  the  breakers  fairly 
dashing  in  your  face,  then  again  in  the  dark 
recesses  of  the  small  canon  where  rank  ferns 
droop  low  to  greet  the  passers-by ;  then 
emerging  out  upon  the  mesas  piled  high  with 
new  mown  hay,  the  fields  and  fences  alive  with 
squirrels  and  quail. 

On  and  on  the  little  "hat-rack"  ponies 
pegged,  eternally  urged  by  the  rhythmic  yank- 
ing and  clucking  of  our  coachman.  Mill  Creek 
was  reached  about  noon:  here  we  found  a 
good  old-fashioned  Fourth-of-July  celebration 
in  full  sway.  From  far  and  near  the  clans 
had  gathered  to  give  homage  to  the  Natal  Day. 
An  accordion  accompanied  by  a  guitar  gave 
forth  the  sonorous  tones  for  the  shuffling 
shoes  within  the  little  schoolhouse,  while  the 
aroma  of  barbecued  meat  permeated  the  at- 
mosphere much  to  the  aggravation  of  our  al- 
ready vigorous  appetites.  For  two  hours  we 
watched  the  merry  makers  and  then  prepared 
to  ascend  "Sierra  Hill",  a  straight  pull  from 
the  start  to  an  elevation  of  two  thousand  feet. 

Before  taking  my  seat  again  in  our  hand- 
some coach  T  made  a  tour  of  inspection,  much 
to  the  disgust  of  our  Swedish  buckskin 
thrower.  I  found  that  one  hind  wheal  had  lost 
the  boxing  and  the  axle  was  running  on  the 
wooden  hub ;  so  with  a  new  rig  we  continued 
our  journey  to  the  "Idlewild  Camping 
Grounds." 

A  more  beautiful  or  more  ideal  spot  for  the 


purpose  could  not  be  imagined.  It  lies  midst 
a  grove  of  mammoth  redwoods,  with  a  fine 
trout  stream  within  twenty  feet.  With  our 
baggage  once  inside  one  of  the  tents,  the  way 
the  stay  ropes  flew  off  was  like  magic,  and 
before  sundown  camp  was  all  set.  Now  it 
was  up  to  "Young  Hopeful"  and  me  to  "grease 
the  pan." 

Cautiously  we  slipped  to  the  nearest  pool  and 
dropped  in  the  lure.     "Young  Hopeful"  at  the 


Young  Hopeful" 


J(. 


II  ESTERh   FIELD 


The  Little  Sur  In.m  Ram's  head  I'nint 


With  the  Spray  ot  the  Breakers  Dashins  in  Your  Fa 


THE  PACIFIC  CO. 1ST  MAGAZINE 


other  end.  "Pull,  boy,  pull!"  I  cried  as  the 
rod  tip  was  pulled  into  the  water.  And  the 
way  that  two-year-old  pulled  showed  "chips 
off  the  old  block."  Midst  screams  of  delight 
and  "I  got  him,  mamma,  I  got  him,  mamma!" 
"Young  Hopeful"  managed  to  land  his  first 
eight-inch  trout.  A  few  minutes  and  ten  more 
were  added  to  the  creel. 

Without  doubt  what  were  the  proudest 
father  and  son  on  the  Pacific  Coast  dined  in 
the  open  that  evening  on  their  first  catch  to- 
gether. Sportsmen  who  are  out  for  a  good 
outing  miss  a  great  deal  by  leaving  the  Young 
Idea  always  in  camp.  Suppose  you  don't  get 
near  as  much  game ;  what  you  do  get  has  a 
great  deal  more  pleasure  attached  to  it,  and 
there  is  a  world  of  compensation  in  the 
youngster's  dances  and  screams  of  delight 
when  the  finny  beauties  are  brought  protest- 
ingly  from  the  ripples. 

We  had  many  little  excursions  the  next  few 
days ;  not  always  in  quest  of  fish  ,for  here  the 
table  is  too  easily  supplied  for  one  to  have  to 
spend  a  great  deal  of  time  on  the  streams. 
We  climbed  the  hills,  we  roamed  the  dark 
shaded  canons,  we  filled  our  souls  to  the 
fullest,  for  we  were  in  God's  own  tabernacle, 
within  the  inmost  sanctum  sanctorum. 

The  most  ideal  spot  for  fast  fishing  was  the 
"Laguna"  at  the  mouth  of  the  Little  Sur. 
Here,  unhampered  by  trees  and  low  brush,  and 
assisted  by  a  goodly  breeze  from  off  the 
breakers,  one  can  enjoy  a  good  hour's  fly  or 
spoon  fishing.  The  young  steelhead  are 
greedy  and  readily  take  most  any  lure,  from  a 
black  wriggling  angleworm  to  the  brightest- 
hued  fly.  Tiring  of  this  lazy  man's  fishing, 
one  can  wander  up  on  the  stream,  to  whip  the 
deep  dark  pools  or  long  shallow  rapids  in  quest 
of  a  big  fellow  to  "top  out"  on. 

I  well  remember  the  time  I  had  one  day  on 
my  return  from  the  Laguna.  I  stopped  at  one 
deep  pool  and  carefully  peered  over  the  logs 
into  its  depths.  There,  close  to  the  bottom, 
lay  a  beauty.  Slipping  back  carefully  I  put  on 
a  coachman  and  skimmed  it  lightly  over  the 
surface;  coachman  was  changed  to  professor; 
professor  to  black  gnat  and  so  on — the  only 
result  being  an  occasional  demonstration  of 
extra  nervousness  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Trout. 

Next  an  ugly  wriggling  worm  was  allowed 
to  invade  his  abode.  This  insulted  him,  and 
he  took  up  a  new  station  a  couple  of  feet  up 
stream  where  driftwood  interfered  with  my 
casting.  This  lure  was  changed  to  a  No.  1 
Wilson    spinner.     A   cast    or   two   to   place    it 


The  Author 

right,  and  it  struck  the  bottom  a  foot  behind, 
and  a  little  beyond  him.  I  let  it  rest  a  moment, 
and  then  raised  it  carefully.  Before  the  spoon 
had  turned  a  dozen  times,  an  electric  shock 
was  conducted  down  that  rod  and  the  battle 
was  on.  To  keep  him  from  driftwood  f  must 
get  down  stream,  and  in  order  to  do  that  I 
must  walk  the  log  I  was  standing  on,  to  the 
water's  edge.  The  log  was  wet,  my  boots  were 
slick,  and. — well,  if  you  had  been  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  away  you  would  have  heard  the  splash. 
I  am  sure.  When  I  regained  my  feet  I  was 
up  to  my  waist  in  the  pool,  spouting  water  like 
a  porpoise. 

A  tug  .on  the  bit  of  rod  I  held  in  my  hand 
reminded  me  that  I  had  not  yet  lost  my  fish, 
so  I  waded  down  the  stream,  working  my  game 
with  me.  By  the  time  I  gained  a  place  to  get 
out  below  the  pool,  the  trout  was  ready  to  give 
up.  Although  I  was  the  laughing  stock  of  the 
camp  that  evening,  and  I  had  a  rod  to  repair 
besides,  it  was  well  worth  it.  Anyhow,  a  cold 
dip  does  one  good  and  a  camper  should  bathe 
often. 

The  days  flew  by  like  moments.  Reluctantly 
the  trunk  was  restrapped  and  all  too  soon 
again  the  impurities  of  habitation  surrounded 
us.  But  we  now  had  a  renewed  lease  of  life 
with  which  to  face  the  trials  and  cares  of 
business  and — the  kid  had  caught  his  first 
trout! 


WESTERS   Fl  l-.l  n 


THE  SCENERY  OE  CALIFORNIA 

By  Hai«>i. n   \V.    Fairbanks.   Ph.   D. 

Geology  of  the  University  of  California 


\l.II-OR.\IA  is  a  land  of  con- 
trasts Its  geographical  features, 
its  climate,  and  its  produc- 
tions exhibit  the  most  won- 
derful variety.  Within  the 
bounds  of  the  State  are  ex- 
amples of  nearly  all  the  geo- 
graphic forms  known  the  world 
over.  It  is  but  a  step  from  the 
highest  land  in  the  United 
States  outside  of  Alaska  to  the  lowest  land; 
from  the  arctic  climate  of  the  moun- 
tain tops  to  the  tropical  verdure  of  the 
valleys;  from  mountains  so  new  that  they 
have  been  but  little  scarred  by  the  forces 
of  destruction,  and  still  present  their  sharp 
and  jagged  peaks  to  our  admiring  gaze,  to 
mountains  worn  down  to  gentle  slopes,  and 
so  old  that  even  geologists  cannot  tell  their 
years;    from     region-    where    the    rainfall    is 


so  great  that  dense  forests  abound  to  those 
where  only  the  scantiest  vegetation  hides  the 
drifting  sand. 

In  all  parts  of  our  country  is  to  be  seen 
the  work  of  the  destructive  forces,  the  wear- 
ing away  of  the  highlands  and  the  filling  up 
of  the  lowlands,  but  in  California  in  addi- 
tion to  these  phenomena  we  can  see  moun- 
tains that  either  are  now,  or  very  recently 
have  been,  in  process  of  making.  New 
mountains  stand  side  by  side  with  old  moun- 
tains. 

In  addition  to  the  remarkable  features 
mentioned  we  find  on  the  one  hand  that  the 
more  arid  portions  of  the  State  are  dotted 
with  beds  of  extinct  lakes,  showing  that  the 
climate  was  in  comparatively  recent  times 
more  moist  than  now ;  and  on  the  other,  a 
coast  line,  which,  judging  from  the  elevated 
beaches  lying  behind  it.  and  the  drowned  val- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


leys  «hioh  help  wive  its  contours,  seems  to 
have  been  perpetually  moving  hack  and  forth. 
up  and  dov,  n 

The  history  of  the  earth  is  not  finished. 
We  live  in  geological  times,  and  the  features 
01  the  earth*  and  water  as  they  change  cx- 
hil.it  the  results,  today  as  in  the  past,  of 
those  fundamental  processes  operative  through 
tin    whole  long  life  of  the  earth. 

There  was  a  time  long  ago  when  California 
did  not  present  the  scenic  attractions  of  the 
present  day.  There  was  no  Sierra  Madre 
looking  down  upon  desert  valleys  where 
i  irange  orchards  were  to  bloom  in  the  distant 
future.  There  were  no  Sierra  Nevadas  with 
their  Yosemities  and  Kings  River  canons;  no 
picturesque  lakes  of  ice-cold  water  overhung 
by  towering  cliffs,  nothing  but  shallow  lakes 
and  a  succession  of  ordinary  mountains  of 
gentle  slopes  between  which  lay  broad  valleys. 
The  visitor  in  search  of  the  picturesque  would 
have  turned  his  steps  toward  some  other  part 
of  the  earth. 

A  traveler  passing  from  the  Mississippi 
Valley  westward  to  the  Pacific  would,  in  those 
ancient  days,  have  found  no  mountain  bar- 
riers in  his  path ;  he  would  have  found  no 
deep  canons  like  those  of  the  Snake  and 
Colorado  Rivers.  There  were  low  mountains, 
broad  valleys  and  many  lakes.  The  Pacific 
Ocean  extended  far  in  over  the  present  border 
of  the  continent  filling  the  great  San  Joaquin- 
Sacramento  Valley,  the  fertile  plains  of 
Southern  California,  and  the  hot  stretches 
of  the  Colorado  desert.  The  Coast  Ranges 
formed  a  series  of  islands  and  peninsulas. 
The  Klamath  Mountains  formed  a  large  island 
separated  from  the  continent  by  Lassen  Strait 
which  connected  the  northern  end  of  the 
present  Sacramento  Valley  with  large  lakes 
in   Eastern   Oregon. 

Much  of  the  present  Sierra  Nevadas 
scarcely  deserve  the  name  of  mountains.  The 
streams  had  long  been  at  work  and  had  worn 
the  region  down  so  that  their  valleys  had 
become  broad  and  filled  with  gravel  and  sand. 
Below-  where  they  crossed  the  gold-bearing 
quartz  veins  untold  millions  of  gold  had  ac- 
cumulated in  these  gravels.  We  know  that 
such  conditions  existed,  for  upon  the  western 
slope  of  the  now  lofty  rejuvinated  Sierras 
are  remnants  of  this  old  surface  and  of  the 
river  beds  which  the  present  streams  have 
cut    through. 


The  traveler  who  enters  the  State  by  the 
Santa  Fe  route  and  crosses  the  broad  reaches 
of  the  Mohave  desert  passes  through  a  region 
which  is  extremely  interesting  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  history  of  its  scenery. 

The  nearly  worn  down  mountains  of  tlii - 
region  are  the  remains  of  the  mountains  of 
those  ancient  days  of  which  we  have  been 
speaking.  Great  changes  have  taken  place 
over  most  other  parts  of  the  State  but  here 
we  have  features  which  connect  us  with  the 
remote  past.  Here  are  mountains  in  the 
last  stages  of  existence.  The  boulders,  gravel 
and  sand  forming  the  vast  desert  plains  over 
the  railroad  winds  from  one  divide  to  another 
are  the  debris  of  once  lofty  mountains.  Here 
and  there  in  the  desert,  particularly  eastward 
from  the  station  of  Mohave,  the  long  gravel 
slopes  are  not  surmounted  by  solid  rock.  The 
mountains  have  disappeared  and  the  work  of 
destruction  is  complete. 

In  the  San  Bernardino  Valley,  about  River- 
side, and  to  the  south,  the  same  old  mountains 
are  to  be  seen.  Mountain-making  movements 
have  in  places  broken  up  this  old  surface, 
giving  us  the  San  Gabriel,  San  Bernardino. 
San  Jacinto  and  other  ranges  of  California. 
It  is  likely  that  without  these  lofty  mountains 
California  would  not  have  become  a  land  of 
oranges  and  other  sub-tropic  fruits,  for  the 
mountains  supply  the  water  so  much  needed. 

If  there  had  been  people  living  in  Cali- 
fornia in  the  remote  period  of  which  we  have 
been  speaking,  before  the  present  lofty  moun- 
tains were  born,  they  would  have  thought 
just  as  we  would  have  thought,  that  the 
earth's  stormy  history  was  past  and  that 
henceforth  there  would  be.no  more  earth- 
quakes and  mountain-making  fractures,  no 
more  volcanoes  and  lava  flows.  Now  we  can 
look  back  and  see  how  mistaken  such  view-, 
would  have  been. 

Those  quiet  times  during  which  the  moun- 
tains slowly  wore  away  came  to  an  end  and 
over  most  of  the  California  region.  There 
came  a  period  when  the  forces  within  the 
earth  which  occasionally,  now  in  one  place, 
in  >\v  in  another,  bend  and  break  the  crust, 
began  to  exert  themselves  over  the  western 
portion  of  the  continent.  Fissures  were 
formed  in  the  crust  of  the  earth  giving  rise 
to  great  blocks  some  of  which  were  forced 
up  while  others  were  dropped.  In  this  way 
began  the  picturesque  mountains  of  the  pres- 


II  /  si  i  i<\  FIELD 


The  Lofty   Mountains  ol  Calil 


cm  day.  Wc  must  not,  however,  think  they 
we're  made  all  at  once,  for  mountains  in  an- 
cient days  urn-  made  in  the  same  way  as 
at  present.  That  is,  by  a  gradual,  impercep- 
table  folding  of  the  earth's  crust,  or  by  earth- 
quake fracture  in  which  the  slipping  varies 
from  a  few  inches  to  several  hundred  feet. 

The  breaking  up  of  the  extensive  area  of 
low  relief  in  the  manner  which  we  have  de- 
scribed intensified  the  contrasts  both  of  cli- 
mate and  of  scenic  conditions.  Not  only  did 
the  ureal  basin,  with  the  precipitous  mountain 
wall  of  the  Sierra  Nevadas  upon  the  west 
and  the  Wasatch  upon  the  east,  come  into 
existence,  but  also  the  desert  conditions.  The 
moist  winds  which  had  formerly  swept  in  from 
the  Pacific  were  cut  off  by  the  lofty  barriers 
rising  upon  the  west.  This  made  the  region 
of  the  great  basin  much  drier  but  at  the 
same  time  increased  the  rainfall  upon  all 
slopes  facing  the  ocean.  The  loftier  moun- 
tains condensed  more  of  the  moisture  and 
thus  came  into  being  the  conditions  which 
make  irrigation  possible  over  parts  of  the 
drier  sections   of  the   State. 

The  new  mountains  changed  the  courses  of 
some  of  the  pre-existing  streams  while  others 


were  cut  in  two.  Upon  the  summit  of  the 
Peninsula  range,  just  below  the  Mexican  line, 
are  old  river  beds  which  once  must  have 
headed  far  to  the  eastward  over  the  region 
of  the  present  Colorado  desert  whose  sur- 
face is  thousands  of  feet  below  them. 

The  lofty  mountains  of  California  were  not 
all  made  at  the  same  time.  It  is  probable 
that  the  Sierra  Madre  is  older  than  the  Sierra 
Nevada,  while  the  San  Jacinto  Range  is  older 
still.  The  Sierra  Nevada  Range  has  evidently 
not  yet  reached  its  final  uplift  for  the  earth- 
quake of  1872  in  Owens  Valley  showed  a  new 
break  along  the  old  fracture  line  at  the 
eastern  base  of  these  mountains.  In  places 
the   valley  bottom   dropped   ten   to   forty   feet. 

Since  the  uplift  of  the  great  earth  blocks, 
most  perfectly  typified  in  California  by  the 
Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  the  frost,  the 
streams  and  the  glaciers  have  been  actively 
at  work,  sculpturing  out  the  canons  and 
jagged  peaks  which  now  make  them  so  at- 
tractive. 

As  we  trace  the  geological  history  of  the 
California  region  far  back  into  the  dim  per- 
iods of  the  past  we  find  that  the  epochs  of 
mountain-making — for  there  have  been  main — ■ 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


.31 


were  marked  by  periods  of  wide-spread  vol- 
canic action.  Molten  masses  within  the  earth, 
pressed  upon  by  the  folding  or  breaking  crust, 
found  relief  through  the  fissures  or  other 
weak  spots  in  the  .overlying  crust  and  flowed 
or  were  hurled  out  with  explosive  violence. 
Particularly  violent,  extensive  and  long  con- 
tinued were  the  eruptions  which  'mark  the 
later  geologic  history  of  northern  California, 
Oregon,  Washington,  and  Idaho.  These 
eruptions  date  from  the  beginning  of  the  last 
great  mountain-making  period  in  the  West. 
They  changed  the  geography  of  the  whole 
Northwest,  burying  the  old  surface  under  a 
thickness  of  lava  which  in  places  amounts  to 
at  least  3000  feet. 

The  eruptions  continued  for  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  years.  Periodically  the  skies 
were  darkened  by  volcanic  ashes.  There  were 
subterranean  explosions,  tremblings  of  the 
earth  and  far  flow-ing  streams  of  fiery  lava. 
Lassen  Strait  to  which  we  have  referred  was 
filled  up  and  a  mountain  range  topped  by 
scores  of  extinct  volcanoes  now  occupies  its 
place. 

A  gentle  flowing  of  the  earth  arched  a 
portion  of  the  surface  of  the  volcanic  region 
of  California,  Oregon  and  Washington  and 
si i  the  Cascade  Range  came  into  being.  Along 
its  crest,  finally  grew  up  the  line  of  great 
volcanoes  stretching  from  Lassen  Peak  north- 
ward past  Shasta  and  scores  of  other  great 
peaks, 

Volcanic  action  was  not  continuous  along 
the  whole  line,  for  long  periods  of  quiet  in- 
tervened. During  these  quiet  times  plants  and 
animals  spread  over  the  surface,  forests  grew 
up,  lakes  appeared,  and  about  their  shores 
were  strange  animal  forms  whose  bones  were 
sometimes  preserved  by  being  buried  in  the 
lake  sediments. 

It  is  sometimes  hard  for  us  to  realize  the 
uniformity  of  Nature,  and  distinguish  in  the 
world  about  us  the  operations  of  those 
eternal  laws  determining  the  building  of  the 
earth.  We  live  in  a  period  which  in  this 
pari  of  the  world  is  free  from  volcanic  erup- 
tions, but  we  must  not  conclude  that  they 
have  ceased  for  good.  It  is  less  than  one 
hundred  years  ago  that  an  eruption  of  lava 
took  place  in  California  near  Lassen  Peak. 
Some  of  the  stubs  of  trees  killed  by  the 
volcanic   ashes   are   still    standing,   wdiile   later 


still  than  the  ashes  is  a  field  of  black  lava 
covering  about   ten   square   miles, 

Hut  what  else  was  happening  in  California 
while  the  great  mountain  ranges  were  being 
lifted  up  and  the  volcanic  peak  built  sky- 
ward? The  changes  of  the  land  affect  the 
coast  line:  if  the  land  rises  the  water  re- 
treats; if  it  sinks,  the  ocean  floods  the 
bordering  lowlands  and  valleys.  There  have 
been  so  many  osciallations  of  the  California 
coast  that  it  is  impossible  to  trace  any  but 
the  most  important  ones. 

For  long  ages  prior  to  the  uplift  .of  the 
Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  and  while  the 
ocean  still  covered  large  parts  of  the  interior 
of  the  continent,  land  had  existed  in  the 
region  of  the  present  Coast  Ranges.  Here 
upon  the  Jurassic  shores  grew  forests  con- 
taining the  earliest  known  ancestors  of  the 
Sequoias,  those  giant  trees  whose  race  is 
nearly  run.  The  Coast  Ranges  of  those 
times  bore  no  resemblance  to  the  Coast 
Ranges  of  the  present,  for  the  latter  are  com- 
paratively  recent. 

With  the  rising  of  the  Sierras  the  wdiole 
coast  moved  upward.  The  ocean  was  dis- 
placed from  the  Great  Valley  of  California. 
Folding  and  breaking  of  the  crust  also  aided 
in  changing  the  coast  line  and  bordering 
mountains.  To  show  how  recent  the  geo- 
graphic features  of  this  region  are  we  may 
use  the  Berkeley  Hills.  LTpon  the  summit 
of  the  latter  are  fresh  water  lake  beds 
belonging  to  one  of  the  very  youngest  of  the 
geological  formations. 

The  sea  continued  to  retreat  until  at  last 
the  shore  lay  outside  the  present  one  and 
along  the  border  of  the  now  submerged  con- 
tinental plateau.  The  Santa  Barbara  Islands 
then  formed  a  mountain  range  upon  the  edge 
of  the  continent.  The  mastodon,  horse,  and 
other  extinct  animals  of  that  time  wandered 
over  this  region  and  left  their  bones,  frag- 
ments of  which  have  been  uncovered  by  the 
waves  in  the  cliffs  of  one  of  the  islands. 

After  the  land  had  reached  its  greatest  ele- 
vation a  subsidance  set  in  and  continued  until 
the  region  of  the  Coast  Range  was  again 
partly  submerged,  but  before  this  occurred 
the  Glacial  period  was  ushered  in. 

It  is  possible  that  this  period  of  increased 
cold  and  greater  precipitation  may  have  been 
the    result   of   the   higher   lands   of   that   time. 


II  Is  II  RA    ill- 1  I' 


THE  PACIFIC  CO.  1ST  MAGAZINE 


33 


for   about    mountain    tops   the   rain   or    snow 
(all    is   greater   than   in   valleys. 

Heavy  snows  fell  upon  the  mountains  and 
the  deserts  were  again  covered  with  verdure, 
for  the  whole  western  United  States  was  more 
or  less  affected  in  the  climatic  changes  of 
the  Glacial  period.  The  snows  accumulating 
from  year  to  year  changed  to  ice  and  the 
glaciers  tints  Conned  moved  down  the  canons. 
For  ages  previous  to  the  coming  of  the 
glaciers  the  streams  had  been  cutting  deeper 
and  deeper  channels  upon  the  slopes  of  the 
uplifted  mountain  blocks  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken.  These  canons  were  gener- 
ally narrow  and  V-shaped  but  in  places  had 
widened  to  valleys.  The  glaciers  did  not 
originate  the  canons  nor  were  they  the  chief 
instrument  in  their  formation,  but  they  some- 
what deepened  and  rounded  their  slopes. 

To  the  glaciers  we  owe  tr.  ach  of  the  most 
striking  and  interesting  scenery  of  the  Sierra 
Xevaclas  and  Klamath  Mountains,  but  the 
Sierra  Madre  was  too  far  south  and  not  of 
sufficient   height   to   afford   true   glaciers. 

The  polished  rounded  granite  slopes,  the 
clear  lakes  occupying  basins  scooped  out  of 
the  solid  rocks,  or  lying  behind  deposits  of 
rock  debris  left  in  the  canons  at  the  lower 
ends  of  the  glaciers,  and  some  of  the  water- 
falls of  the  Yosemite  and  other  valleys  owe 
their  existence  to  glacial  action. 

The  Yosemite  Valley  was  not  formed  by 
glaciers,  nor  is  it  the  result  of  the  sinking 
of  a  portion  of  the  earth's  crust  as  we  might 
be  led  to  think  from  the  abruptness  of  its 
walls,  but  rather  to  the  simple  thorough  pro- 
longed action  of  water.  The  valley  lies  at  the 
junction  of  several  streams  where  the  rocks 
are  somewhat  softer  and  intersected  by  nearly 
vertical  joints.  It  is  true,  however,  that  the 
glaciers  somewhat  modified  the  valley.  They 
cleaned  out  the  valley,  tore  away  portions  of 
the  walls,  making  them  more  precipitous,  and 
diverted  the  streams  so  as  to  give  rise  to  the 
Yosemite  and  Nevada  Falls. 

Large  rivers  created  by  the  melting  snows 
and  glaciers  found  their  way  into  the  desert 
valleys  of  the  Great  Basin,  until  the  latter 
became  dotted  with  lakes,  some  of  which  were 
hundreds  of  miles  in  extent.  Owens  Lake 
overflowed  and  sent  a  great  river  southward. 


forming  a  lake  in  the  dry  bed  of  which  the 
Searls  Borax  works  are  situated. 

As  the  years  passed  the  climate  changed 
again  and  the  glaciers  began  to  retreat.  The 
desert  streams  and  lakes  mostly  dried  up.  the 
broad  sheets  of  shallow  water  giving  place 
to  broad  barren  reaches  of  alkali,  salt.  Imrax 
or  merely   mud. 

The  land  sank  after  the  glacial  period  until 
it  was  as  much  as  1500  feet  below  the  present 
level,  flooding  the  coastal  region  of  the  State. 
Following  this  another  uplift  began.  The 
movement  was  not  uniform  but  by  stages, 
and  at  each  epoch  of  rest  the  waves  cut 
cliffs.  As  each  in  succession  was  abandoned, 
the  slopes  of  the  rising  land  facing  the  sea 
showed  a  succession  of  steps  or  terraces  as  we 
commonly  call  them.  LIpon  the  slopes  of  San 
Pedro  Hill,  southwest  of  Los  Angeles,  there 
are    fully   a   dozen   of   these   terrances. 

The  Colorado  River,  of  wdiich  we  have 
heard  so  much  lately,  was  and  is  still  en- 
gaged in  a  great  work.  During  the  long  period 
of  the  evolution  of  our  mountains,  canons 
and  coast  lines,  the  river  built  a  delta  across 
the  head  of  the  Gulf  of  California  giving  rise 
to  the  Salton  basin.  Then  it  filled  the  basin 
with  water,  making  a  great  lake,  but  after 
a  time  left  it  and  turned  directly  to  the  gulf. 
The  lake  dried  up  and  in  its  place  there 
existed  until  recently  one  of  the  hottest  and 
most  barren  deserts  in  the  southwestern 
United  States.  As  a  result  of  man's  blun- 
dering the  river  was  again  diverted  into  the 
Salton  basin,  and  before  it  was  controlled  the 
shore  of  the  new  lake  had  in  places  ap- 
proached within  a  mile  of  those  of  the  ancient 
lake. 

And  thus  come  down  to  the  present  time. 
Volcanic  action,  earthquakes,  a  changing  coast 
line,  and  the  formation  of  a  new  Salton  Sea 
teach  us  that  our  geographic  features  are  not 
fixed.  Our  picturesque  surroundings  are  not 
produced  without  a  corresponding  cost.  To 
the  instability  of  the  Pacific  border  we  owe 
the  presence  of  the  remarkable  and  interest- 
ing scenery,  which  is  not  only  inspiring  to 
look  upon  but  which  has  influenced  so  deeply 
the  climate  and  productions  of  the  Pacific- 
slope. 


?- 


A  SONG   Ol     Hit    WEST 

SI  \(,  ho  '  foi   the  w  ■  West, 

Where  il»-  cloud-piercing  uplands  sic, 
the 

i,    the  high   hill    l 
Where  dangers  are  braved  when   -1"'"   i«  t1" 
Vnd  lifi  ind  free. 

Sing  hoi  lor  the  West;  I '  land, 

H  h I"-   iportsinan  may  pitch  his  tenl   il    he   » 

K>    silvery  trout-stream  or   ihining   strand, 
With  virgin  i  hand 

Vnd   prospect  i  i  hill. 

n  I      ed  West, 

\\  ,,i,  its  broadi  ning  rivei  -  thai  swei  p  out  to  sea  ; 
v     ,    .    ,i,.      oung  man  will  find  opportunity  best 
And  the  triu-  man  may  live  out  hi*  life  with  a  test  . 
0      he  Wi         the   far   West  for  me! 

Henry    Morey. 


"? 


4 


m 

TIGER  TRACKS 

m 

Bj    P.  W.  Reid. 
Part    [L— (Concluded). 


UNTING  with  elephants  is  a 
favorite  pastime  with  those 
native  princes  who  still  exercise 
the  shadow  of  their  former  des- 
potic power  under  British  suzer- 
ainty. The  elephant  is  an  ani- 
mal of  state  in  the  Orient,  and 
his  caparisoned  and  colossal 
form  bulks  huge  and  imposing 
in  the  durbars  and  ceremonial 
procession  of  nawabs  and  rajahs.  All  native 
princes  keep  a  stud  of  elephants,  some  of 
which  are  trained  to  the  hunt.  With  these 
they  offer  royal  sport  to  their  distinguished 
visitors,  viceroys  or  princes  from  across  the 
(ocean).  It  is  remarkable  that  for- 
eign royaltieS  are  always  credited  with  a  "kill" 
at  these  entertainments,  and  their  portraits 
appear  in  the  illustrated  papers,  posed,  rifle  in 
hand  over  a  dead  tiger.  But  there  are  many 
guests  and  some  confusion  at  these  great  en- 
tertainments, and  gossip  hints  that  clever  cour- 
tiers   sometimes     waive    the     claim     of     their 


superior  skill  in  favor  of  the  prince.  It  might 
not  affect  the  reigning  dynasty,  but  it  would 
be  without  precedent  for  a  European  prince 
to  return  from  India  without  a  tiger  skin.  Of 
all  Indian  sport,  hunting  with  elephants  is  the 
most  imposing,  and  the  most  Oriental  in  the 
barbaric  splendor  of  its  state. 

A  spectator  might  take  the  line  of  elephants. 
fiftj  or  more  in  number  and  caparisoned  with 
hoivdahs,  for  the  advance  guard  of  an  army. 
On  their  necks  ride  iiuilioiits  in  uniform,  the 
drivers  who  steer  the  huge  coach.  The  sports- 
men, seated  behind  the  wooden  defences  of 
the  howdah,  feel  secure  as  in  a  tower.  When 
the  line  halts  they  look  to  their  rifles,  and 
await  eagerly  the  tramp  of  the  "pad"  (without 
howdah  )  elephants  that  are  advancing  towards 
them  through  the  long  grass.  Nothing,  it 
would  seem  can  stand  before  that  earth-shak- 
ing march,  the  jungle  must  give  up  its  game 
to  the  last  tiger,  which  from  this  secure  height 
one  could  kill  between  the  whiffs  of  a  cigar. 
But  wait  till  a  tiger  charges,  as  it  may,  if  the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


35 


unsubduable  temper  of  the  noble  brute  is 
roused  by  a  wound !  If  he  claws  the  elephant's 
trunk,  or  springs  onto  his  back,  fighting  to  a 
finish,  then  with  the  shrill  trumpeting  of  the 
elephant  clashing  with  the  tiger's  roar,  and 
the  howdah  rocking  like  a  boat  in  a  ground 
swell,  the  hunter's  nerve  is  put  to  the  test.  It 
is  this  chance  that  adds  the  zest  of  danger  to 
the  sport.  Otherwise  the  odds  are  patently  in 
favor  of  the  man  in  the  howdah.  Hence  the 
caustic  comment  of  an  observer  that  the  sport 
was  like  "shooting  a  mad  dog  from  the  top  of 
an  omnibus."  It  is  doubtless  the  safest  way 
of  attacking  a  ferocious  wild  beast. 

But  hunting  with  elephants,  typically  Indian 
as  it  is,  is  not  every-day  sport.  They  are  very 
expensive  animals  to  keep.  In  the  words  of 
the  song  in  "Wang" : 

"The  elephant   eats  all  day, 
And    the    elephant    eats    all    night." 

and  with  fodder  at  say  a  dollar  a  head,  and 
the  board  and  wages  of  mahout  and  grooms  as 
well,  a  stud  of  elephants  is  not  within  the 
means  of  a  man  on  government  salary.  Let 
us  turn  now  from  this  diversion  of  princes  to 
the  more  ordinary  forms  of  tiger  hunting. 

Driving  the  jungle  for  big  game  having  been 
described  in  a  recent  number  of  this  magazine, 
it  is  unnecessary  in  this  place  to  do  more  than 
point  out  some  differences  in  detail.  The 
bundobast,  or  arrangement,  is  essentially  the 
same :  the  sending  out  of  a  shikari,  or  native 
tracker,  the  assemblage  of  a  horde  of  coolies 
to  act  as  beaters.  But  where  the  game  in 
view  is  a  tiger,  the  bundobast  is  a  more  serious 
and  expensive  affair.  A  shikari  who  enjoys  the 
reputation  of  being  a  good  tiger-finder  is  apt 
to  put  a  fancy  figure  on  his  services.  He 
knows  his  value.  The  beaters  expect  double 
the  usual  pay,  and  a  much  larger  contingent 
must  take  the  field  than  on  a  deer-hunt.  They 
have  their  own  skins  to  consider  and  believe 
there  is  safety  in  numbers.  There  is  certainly 
much  more  noise,  and  with  a  thickset  hedge  of 
men  armed  with  staves  and  spears  in  his  rear, 
the  tiger  is  less  likely  to  break  back  and  upset 
the  calculations  of  the  waiting  guns.  The 
latter  instead  of  taking  up  positions  more  or 
less  under  cover  on  the  ground  are  posted  up 
in  trees.  For  their  comfort  and  security  a 
machan,  as  it  is  called  in  Hindustani,  is  con- 
structed. A  couple  of  woodsmen  select  a 
stout-limbed  tree,  and  build  in  the  fork  of  its 
branches  a  platform  of  stout  sticks.     On  this 


seat,  which  might  be  a  rough  foundation  of  an 
eagle's  nest,  the  hunter  squats  with  his  rifle 
and  paraphernalia,  waiting  events.  Inglori- 
ously  safe,  you  think,  while  the  beaters  risk 
their  lives  afoot?  Well,  there  is  not  very 
much  danger  on  the  ground  till  a  shot  has 
been  fired;  and  the  man  in  the  tree  is  not  out 
of  reach  of  a  wounded  tiger,  unless  his  machan 
is  about  fifteen  feet  at  least  above  the  earth. 
I  can  remember  the  fate  of  an  officer  who, 
having  lately  recovered  from  illness  did  not 
feel  equal  to  much  climbing,  ordered  his 
machan  built  at  twelve  feet  off  the  ground. 
He  fired  at  and  wounded  a  tiger,  which 
promptly  clawed  him  off  his  perch,  and  put  an 
end  to  him.  Twenty  feet  up  is  a  safe  and  airy 
position,  and  gives  the  sportsmen  a  wide  range 
of  view.  If  he  covets  danger,  it  will  come  to 
meet  him  when,  leaving  his  eyrie,  he  has  to 
track  a  wounded  tiger  on  foot. 

Now  the  first  move  in  this  elaborate  game 
comes  from  the  noble  quarry.  The  tiger  is  a 
comparatively  rare  animal,  and  one  or  a  pair 
may  range  over  a  considerable  tract  of  jungle. 
But  their  signs  betray  them,  the  unmistakable 
broad  "pugs"  of  the  regal  feline.  For  these 
the  shikaris  watch  out  by  the  watering-pools 
in  the  wilderness,  and  by  the  salt-licks  to 
which  deer  resort.  They  are  also  very  much 
interested  in  the  fate  of  the  cattle  belonging 
to  the  villagers  who  live  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  forest.  For  as  soon  as  a  tiger  has  killed 
either  a  cow  or  a  deer,  his  location  is  easily 
made  out,  and  he  will  probably  remain  there 
till  he  has  disposed  of  his  prey.  That  is  the 
signal  for  operations  to  begin.  The  shikari 
returns  hot-foot  to  the  hunter's  camp,  or  bun- 
galow, and  as  soon  as  may  be  the  hunting  be- 
gins. And  it  proceeds  from  start  to  firing- 
line  with  more  clamor  and  excitement,  but 
otherwise  much  in  the  same  way  as  the  al- 
ready described  drive  for  deer. 

If  driving  be  not  resorted  to,  the  "kill",  as 
the  tiger's  victim  is  termed,  may  be  put  to 
another  use.  A  full  grown  cow  is  more  than  a 
night's  meal  for  a  hungry  tiger.  Having 
dragged  the  carcass  to  a  secluded  spot,  the  de- 
stroyer gluts  his  first  appetite  with  the  thighs, 
and  then  retires  to  slake  his  thirst,  and  sleep 
off  the  effects  of  the  banquet.  In  the  meantime 
a  machan  is  built,  and  the  hunter  sits  up  to 
await  the  tiger's  return  for  another  meal. 
There  is  a  kind  of  retributive  justice  in  thus 
using  the  victim  to  lure  the  killer  to  his  doom. 
But   the   hunter  often   waits   in   vain,   so   sus- 


M, 


WESTERN  1111 1' 


pidoua  ii  the  g  im<     o  Icei  n  it- 
the  i. mmi  of  human  meddling. 

Another  sitting  up  plan  employed  by  the 
lone  hunter  ii  to  provide  a  living  dec 
buyi  .1  lowing  calf,  or  :>  brisk  young  goat,  and 
tethers  the  sacrifice  out  in  a  selected  place. 
Bleating  "r  bellowing,  he  believes,  will  sound 
like  a  dinner  call  t"  ■  Famished  tiger;  and  he 
hopes  his  guest  will  not  notice  that  there  ii 
■  string  to  the  gift  animal.  Big-game  hunting 
h.is  I..  image  of  war ;  ami  it  is  a 

maxim  oi  warfare  to  take  a  lesson  from  the 
Mv      The  tiger   is   fond   ol 

ambuscades,    and    the    hunter    pleases    1 

with    the    notion    of    employing    similar    wiles 

against   that   crafty   brute. 

lie  needs  some  consolatory  reflections,  for 
he  is  likely  to  have  before  him  a  weary  and 
often  fruitless  time  of  waiting.  Instead  of  a 
mochan,  some  men  have  a  native  bedstead — a 
i  frame  with  broad  cotton  bands 
stretched  across  it — fixed  up  in  the  tree.  This 
is  comfortable,  but  it  is  somewhat  of  a  snare. 
Its  hammock-like  yielding  surface  invites  the 
watcher  to  a  gentle  doze.  But  watch  he  ought. 
with  eyes  and  cars  alert — as  it  is  impossible  to 
say  when  the  alarm  may  come — and  best  alone. 
For  a  native,  however  useful  as  a  second  sen- 
try, is  very  apt  to  cough  at  unseasonable  mo- 
ments. At  first  the  hunter,  who  usually  posts 
himself  about  two  hours  before  sunset,  is  keen 
enough, — as  keen  as  a  man  can  be  in  a  shade 
temperature  of  110°  F.  With  rifle  at  the  ready, 
and  a  belt  full  of  spare  cartridges  hung  close 
at  hand,  he  looks  for  the  tiger  to  slink  out  of 
the  jungle.  But  the  minutes  pass,  and  nothing 
happens.  There  is  not  a  sound  in  the  breath- 
less jungle,  the  sere  leaves  drop  silently. 
Cramped,  he  changes  his  position ;  oppressed 
by  the  languid  air  his  eyelids  close  in  spite  of 
his  will.  At  length  comes  the  blessed  relief  of 
evening.  The  glaring  sun  has  sunk;  it  is 
shadow  time  in  the  forest;  a  little  breeze  plays 
with  the  dead  leaves ;  a  night-bird  begins  to 
croon.  The  crisping  air  of  nightfall  whets  the 
hunter's  nerve;  and  if  the  tiger  so  long-ex- 
pected falls  into  the  ambush  while  the  sky  is 
still  pink,  the  odds  are  in  favor  of  the  rifle. 

But  when  the  hunter  sits  wrapped  in  "the 
blanket  of  the  dark",  chance  inclines  towards 
the  side  of  the  tiger.  Without  actual  ex- 
perience, none  can  tell  how  difficult  it  is  to 
aim  with  precision  by  the  shadow-chequered 
light  of  the  moon  or  stars — to  say  nothing  of 
the   obscurity   of   the   jungle   under   a   cloudy 


night  sky.     White  paper,  luminous  paint,  dia 

tnond    splits      all    theie    arc    very    well    in    their 

u.i\,  but  ib. )  .ii i  apl  i' i  tail  the  eye  that  de- 
pends on  them.  Sighting  in  fact  is  somewhat 
of  a  delusion  on  a  dark  night.  And  tin 
.!  to  regular  hours,  has  a 
bard  task  to  keep  himself  on  the  qui  Vtve,  and 
his  muscles  free  from  the  numbness  that  may 
paralyze  him  at  the  critical  moment  Ho  is 
io  interpret  rightly  what 
is  going  on  below  him  in  the  dark. 

I  o  the  novice  is  seems  that  the  murky  jungle 
1  with  stealthy  movements,  with  the 
pacing  of  furtive  feet,  the  advances  and  re- 
treats of  a  shadowy  host.  Much  of  this  is  the 
mere  projection  of  his  busy  brain.  Now  and 
again  the  quiet  is  really  broken  by  the  swoop 
of  a  night-hawk,  the  cry  of  a  deer,  or  the 
yowl  of  a  leopard.  A  pair  of  jackals  sneak 
up  to  snatch  a  morsel  from  their  master's  feast. 
In  the  excessive  caution  of  their  gestures,  their 
pricked  cars  and  outstretched  necks,  there  is 
the  exaggeration  of  a  stage-entry,  a  comic  re- 
lief of  the  serious  suspense  of  watching.  But 
they  indicate  that  the  tiger  is  nowhere  near. 

It  is  vain  to  listen  for  his  return.  For  all 
his  weight  the  great  beast  treads  as  lightly  as 
a  cat.  He  may  pass  unperceived  directly  under 
the  hunter,  whose  relaxed  attention  is  first 
roused  by  the  sound  of  crunching  bones.  He 
fires  at  an  ill-defined  mark,  and  should  he  kill 
outright,  it  were  best  to  confess  honestly  to  a 
very  good  fluke.  On  these  night-alarms  car- 
tridges are  often  blazed  away  to  no  purpose. 
Wraiths  of  tigers  are  shot  at,  branches  and 
leaves  are  cut  away,  and  when  light  comes  it 
reveals  nothing  dead  but  the  aging  corpse  of 
the  decoy. 

Hit  or  miss,  kill  or  wound,  of  course  the 
hunter  must  wait  patiently  for  the  dawn.  No 
sane  man  would  descend  from  his  machan  in 
order  to  finish  a  wounded  tiger  in  the  dark. 
But  following  a  blood-trail  is  a  common  end- 
ing of  the  hunt,  whether  the  jungles  have  been 
driven  by  day  or  the  hunter  has  sat  up  all 
night  over  a  "kill."  The  sport  then  fairly 
bristles  with  the  hazard.  For  a  flesh  wound 
merely  irritates,  while  a  lung  wound  does  not 
incapacitate  a  tiger.  Indeed,  a  tiger  can  only 
be  "knocked  out"  by  a  shot  through  the  spine 
that  paralyzes  the  limbs,  Short  of  that  he  lays 
up  somewhere  and  nurses  his  energies  for  a 
murderous  spring  on  his  pursuers.  Hence  the 
danger  of  using  the  expanding  "express"  bul- 
let against  fierce  game  animals.     When  a  vital 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


37 


spot  is  not  touched,  the  wound  does  not  give 
the  same  shock  to  the  system  as  the  solid 
penetrating  hullet.  Being  less  damaged,  the 
animal  is  more  active  and  keen  for  turning 
on  the  hunter. 

The  small  tracking-party — the  hunter,  his  ■ 
shikari,  and  a  few  picked  followers — have 
nothing  but  the  "pugs"  and  blood  stains  left 
behind  by  the  wounded  tiger  to  guide  them. 
In  the  hot  season  the  trail  usually  leads  them 
into  the  bed  of  some  dried  watercourse;  and 
there  among  the  slabs  of  rock  the  footprints 
cease,  and  the  blood-gouts  are  no  longer  seen. 
The  tiger  is  lurking  in  cover.  Now  comes  the 
tug  of  war.  Dry  grass,  dead  leaves,  withered 
branches,  the  color  of  all  things  is  in  harmony 
with  the  tiger's  striped  and  tawny  skin. 

Sometimes  a  reckless  young  hunter,  disre- 
garding advice,  wades  into  the  grass  and  all 
but  steps  on  the  wounded  animal.  Then  en- 
sues a  scene  of  indescribable  confusion  and 
danger.  The  hunter's  snap  shot  whistles  wide 
of  its  mark,  and  four  hundred  weight  of 
furious  bone  and  muscle  springs  upon  him.  At 
the  roar  of  the  charging  tiger,  the  coolies  scat- 
ter helter-skelter,  sauve  que  pent.  Lucky  for 
the  rash  hunter,  if  his  shikari,  who  carries  a 
second  rifle,  is  staunch,  for  it  will  need  a 
steady  shot  to  save  his  life.  Mangled  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  he  must  be  by  those  rending  claws 
and  furious  teeth.  Thus  a  hunt  that  began 
tamely  in  a  secure  ambush  may  end  in  the 
hazard  of  life  and  limb. 

And  this  may  happen  without  taking  any 
foolhardy  risks.  For  a  wounded  tiger,  mad 
with  pain,  is  as  ready  to  charge  as  an  un- 
wounded  one  is  clever  at  slipping  through  the 
circle  of  his  pursuers.  The  veteran  hunter 
who  skilfully  plans  the  dislodging  of  a  tiger 
from  high  grass,  either  by  sending  in  a  large 
gang  of  beaters  armed  with  pikes,  or  a  bunch 
of  cattle — for,  strange  to  say,  cattle,  if  in  suf- 
ficient numbers  and  jungle-raised,  will  face 
tigers — stands  himself  in  a  dangerous  posi- 
tion. He  bars  the  retreat  of  the  tiger,  risks 
the  charge,  and  his  life  may  hang  on  the 
hazard  of  a  miss-fire.  Among  his  collection 
of  striped  pelts  the  old  hunter  has  one  or  two 
that  he  has  bought  at  the  price  of  his  skin,  or 
even  a  limb.  Tiger  scratches  cut  as  deep  as  a 
Maori  tattooing,  and  I  have  see  backs  and 
chests  marked  with  such  old  scores.  But  there 
is  no  jesting  at  those  scars,  for  the  grave  risk 
of  blood  poisoning  attends  wounds  received  in 
jungle  battles.    Serious  illness,  amputation,  loss 


of  life,  these  are  the  hazards  that  wait  upon 
the  hunter  who  faces  the  charge  of  a  tiger. 

Whether  won  without  a  scratch,  or  at  the 
cost  of  blood,  the  mounted  skull  and  skin  of  a 
tiger  is  the  grand  trophy  of  Indian  sport.  The 
winter  pelt  is,  of  course,  the  heavier,  but 
tigers  are  not  usually  hunted  at  that  time  of 
year.  The  hunting  season  comes  in  the  hot 
weather,  when  the  jungle  is  most  open  and 
accessible,  and  the  watercourses  are  dried  into 
occasional  pools,  around  which  the  life  of  the 
jungle-folk  is  concentrated.  Under  those  cir- 
cumstances driving  and  tracking  are  easier. 
But  the  climate  is  a  sore  trial  even  to  the. 
seasoned  Anglo-Indian.  A  daily  maximum  of 
110°  to  120°  Fahr.,  malaria,  bad  water,  flies  and 
mosquitoes,  attacks  of  fever — these  are  the 
drawbacks  that  ending  in  serious  illness  some- 
times put  an  end  to  a  hunter's  carefully 
planned  expedition. 

It  must  not  be  imagined  that  tigers  are  at  all 
common  in  Bengal,  or  any  other  province  of 
India.  In  the  thickly  populated  and  cultivated 
plains  they  are  a  name  and  nothing  more.  The 
jungles  to  which  tiger-hunters  resort  are  far 
from  the  centers  of  population.  They  are  situ- 
ated in  the  Teroi  country,  which  lies  at  the 
base  of  the  Himalayas ;  in  the  table  lands  of 
Central  India  and  the  Deccen ;  in  the  low-lying 
Sunderbunds  in  the  delta  of  the  Hoogly,  and 
elsewhere. 

Even  in  jungle  districts  tigers  are  getting 
scarce.  The  men  who  have  the  best  chance  of 
good  sport  are  the  local  officials — forest  officers 
especially.  For  they  know  the  country  and 
how  to  handle  the  native  folk,  and  that  is 
more  than  half  the  battle,  as  so  much  depends 
on  the  character  of  the  shikaris  employed. 
The  man  who  comes  from  the  other  end  of 
India  may  spend  handfuls  of  rupees  and  all 
his  leave  time,  and  yet  not  kill  a  tiger.  The 
residents,  too,  will  tell  you  that  a  skin  repre- 
sents many  blank  days,  many  weary  nights  of 
fruitless  sitting  up.  The  tiger  is  a  wily  and 
suspicious  animal,  and  leads  his  hunters  a 
pretty  dance  before  they  catch  him — or  lose 
him. 

No ;  tiger-hunting  is  not  sport  for  every 
day,  or  everybody.  The  handsome  trophy  has 
certainly  cost  much  time  and  money;  perhaps 
has  been  won  at  the  expense  of  health  and 
strength.  But  the  Indian  hunter  values  the 
tiger  pelt  above  all  other  prizes  of  the  jungle, 
and  the  labor  in  which  he  delights  physics  the 
pain  of  his  exile. 


WESTERN  FIEl  l> 


I 


I) 


OWN     ,lrc|. 

■Irani 


HARMONY 

n    my    soul    there 


are    strings    tavit 


they   echo  a   symphony 
To  the  music  which  comes  on  the  wings  of  the  wind 

the  iky  ami  the  sea. 
And  (Hi !  It  is  iweel  and  Oh  I  It  is  good 
This  stirring  of  melody! 

For  we  are  a  tune — my  soul  and  the  song 

W'huh  was  written  by  God'n  own  hand; 

tad   He  gave  the  great  gift  of  a  beautiful  voice 

To  the  sea  and  the  sky  and  the  land. 

And  gladly  they  sing  and   my  soul  calls  back 

In   unison  deep  and  grand. 

— Grace  G.  Croivcll. 


AUTUMN 


THE  sickle's  song  is  silent  o'er  the  meadow, 
The  reapers'  noonday  carol  now  is  still, 
A  mellow  autumn  haze  is  on  the  lowlands. 
The  moving  brown  of  quail   upon  the  hill; 
Some  mystic  touch  bestirs  the  dreamy   silence, 
Some   subtle  essence  of  the  garnered   past 
And  we  from  endless  search  through  weary  pathways 
Have  found  the  blessed  coign  of  earth  at  last. 

Here  let  us  know  a  moment  of  fulfillment, 
Follow   the  thistle-feet   upon   their  way. 
Drink  in  the  heart-born  music  of  the  waters, 
In  dreams  forget  there  comes  another  day; 
O  ecstacy  some  unseen  hand  has  wakened ! 
The  pulsing  heart  is  full  of  worship-fire, 
And  all  the  joy   my  soul  has  had   in  dreaming 
Is  ten-fold   sweeter   here  with  leaf  and  lyre. 

—S.  A.   White. 

CLOUDS 

FROM   my   window   I  see  them  floating 
|         Across  the  pale  sapphire  sky, 

All  silver  and  gold  and  crimson 
In    the   glow   that   bids   daylight    die. 

There  they  march  on  in  great  phalanxes 
With  outriders,  one  by  one; 
And  lower,  extend  their  columns, 
Like  bars,   o'er  the  setting  sun. 

O  dark  clouds,   o'er  yon  horizon 
Ye  press  on  the  sun's  bright   face, 
Like  the  weight  of  sorrow  loading 
My  heart  in   its   secret  place. 

And    yet   your   ensanguined   edges 
Speak  plain  of  your  fairer  side; 
So  perhaps  my  grief  will  lighten 
With  the  shifting  of  time  and  tide. 

—Donald  A.   Fraser. 


By  W.  F.  Burton. 


WELVE  bears,  of  which  four 
were  grizzlies,  is  not  a  bad 
record  for  a  two  weeks'  hunt. 
That  is  what  four  of  us  did 
this  last  spring.  The  party 
consisted  of  Lieutenant  Gover- 
nor Dunsmuir,  his  son-in-law, 
Major  Audain,  Robert  Barck- 
ley  and  myself.  We  went 
north  from  Victoria  on  Mr. 
Dunsmuir's  steam  yacht,  "The  Thistle,"  and 
arrived  at  the  entrance  to  Gardiner's  Inlet 
on  the  seventh  of  May.  Major  Audain  and 
Mr.  Barckley  went  up  the  Kildara  River 
near  Kitimat,  while  I  went  on  with  the 
Governor  up  Gardiner's  Canal  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Kanamara  River.  It  is  of  my  trip 
up  that  river  and  of  the  killing  of  the  largest 
grizzly  I  had  ever  seen  that  I  am  going  to 
tell. 

Taking  with  me  two  Indians,  men  who 
knew  their  country  pretty  well,  we  left  the 
boat  at  one  o'clock  on  the  eighth  of  May. 
The  Kanamara  is  a  big  stream  and  it  runs 
very  fast.  The  bed  is  very  wide  and  the 
water  runs  between  numerous  sand-bars. 
On  account  of  the  swiftness  of  the  current 
we  had  to  adopt  the  canal  method  of  pro- 
gression. That  is,  we  hauled  our  boat  up 
with  a  stout  rope.  It  will  not  be  difficult 
for  anyone  who  has  ever  tried  this  plan  of 
traveling  to  imagine  that  we  made  but  slow 
progress.  By  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening 
we  had  only  covered  about  eight  miles. 
Here  we  decided  to  camp,  and  immediately 
we  stopped,  the  Indians  set  about  getting 
supper.  While  doing  this  they  saw,  high 
up  on  the  mountain-side,  what  certainly 
looked  like  a  grizzly,  but  it  was  beginning 
to  get  dusk  so  we  could  not  be  sure.  Very 
shortly  after  that  a  big  black  bear  crossed 
the  snow  slide  and  walked  to  where  the 
other  bear  had  been  seen,  but  directly  he 
approached  the  spot  he  turned  back  and  re- 
crossed  the-slide,  evidently  having  smelt  the 
other  bear  and  not  wanting  to  make  a  closer 


acquaintance.  It  was  too  late  to  think  of 
hunting  that  night  so  we  turned  in  early. 

Next  morning  it  was  pouring  rain  and 
heavy  clouds  hung  over  the  spot  where  our 
bears  were  expected  to  be,  so  we  moved 
camp,  going  up  the  river.  The  trip  was  a 
pretty  bad  one,  for  the  pouring  rain  made 
everything  unpleasantly  cold.  The  river 
ran  among  dense  cottonwoods  which,  inter- 
spersed with  scrub  fir,  covered  the  lower 
part  of  the  mountains.  Usually  just  below 
the  snow  line  there  were  clear  places  and  it 
was  on  these  that  we  expected  to  find  our 
game.  All  morning  we  worked  our  way  up 
the  river,  seeing  nothing  more  interesting 
than  the  glorious  scenery  of  the  river  and 
mountain  with  an  occasional  bird  or  squirrel 
and  a  number  of  mountain  goats  to  let  us 
know  that  there  were  living  things  in  that 
part  of  the  world. 

There  was  not  much  likely  country  up 
the  river  so  we  came  back  to  our  old  camp- 
ing ground,  arriving  there  again  late  in  the 
evening.  The  rain  had  at  last  stopped  and 
there  was  our  bear  feeding  in  almost  the 
same  spot  where  we  had  seen  him  on  the 
previous  evening,  only  a  little  more  in  the 
open.  He  was  in  a  grassy  gulch  just  be- 
low the  snow  line,  and  in  spite  of  the  great 
distance  it  was  plain  to  us  that  he  was  the 
biggest  grizzly  we  had  ever  seen.  Again 
we  camped  within  sight  of  the  big  fellow 
and  wondered  if  its  hide  would  decorate  our 
canoe  on  our  return  to  the  yacht. 

Four  o'clock  next  morning  saw  us  out 
with  our  glasses.  There  was  our  new  and 
distant  acquaintance  out  feeding  again  in 
the  same  spot,  but  that  spot  was  a  good  two 
and  a  half  hours'  climb  from  where  we 
were  camped,  and  we  knew  that  by  the 
time  we  got  up  there  he  would  have  fin- 
ished his  morning  meal.  There  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  wait  until  the  afternoon. 

At  four  o'clock  I  crossed  the  river,  taking 
one  Indian  with  me  and  leaving  the  other  in 
camp  to  signal  us  when  the  bear  should  come 
out.     Previously   we   had   rigged   up   a   white 


Id 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Bag.  It  consisted  of  an  undervesl  tied  n>  the 
end  "i  i  canoe  pole.  Thia  the  Indian  was  to 
r  ci  me  out 
If  tin-  bear  was  in  the  same  place  he  was  to 
wave  a  in  (.-.imp.  If  higher  up  he  wot 
farther  np  the  river  ami  wave  it.  if  thi 

i  down  he  would 
from  a  point  farther  down  the  river. 

Up  the  mountain  -.idc  we  clambered.  It  was 
difficult  work  pulling  ourselves  up  by  the  scrub 
fir  thai  covered  the  ground  everywhere.  We 
kept  well  to  windward  of  the  place  we  ex- 
bruin  to  be,  and  when  after  two  and 
a  half  hours  of  strenuous  climbing  we  had 
reached   the  required  height   we  crouched  in 

the  thickets,  waiting  patiently  for  the  waving 
of  the  Hag.  It  was  not  long  that  we  were 
kept  waiting,  hut  we  were  impatient  to  be 
again.  The  thrill  of  the  hunt  was  in 
our  veins  and  we  ehafed  at  any  delay.  How- 
ever, no  matter  how  much  we  might  dislike 
waiting  we  knew  enough  to  control  our  im- 
patience and  keep  perfectly  still,  for  on  our 
doing  this  depended  to  a  very  large  extent  the 
of  our  hunt.  For  half  an  hour  we  lay 
there  and  then  to  our  joy  we  caught  sight  of 
the  flag  waving  some  distance  farther  up  the 
river  from  our  camp.  This  meant  that  we 
must  climb  higher,  so  we  stealthily  moved 
upwards,  being  careful  not  to  tread  on  a  rotten 
stick  or  to  click  our  heels  against  a  stone. 
Slowdy  but  surely  we  mounted  higher  umil  we 
came  out  on  a  little  rocky  bluff,  just  the  place 
for  our  purpose.  Peering  over,  we  saw  our 
game  two  hundred  yards  below  us.  We  must 
have  passed  very  near  him  but  he  apparently 
did  not  suspect  that  an  enemy  was  in  the  vi- 
cinity, for  he  was  quietly  feeding  on  the  scrub 
willow  that  was  now  tender  and  succulent  from 
the  warmth  of  the  spring. 

I  should  like  to  have  got  nearer,  but  here 
we  were  on  a  point  of  vantage.  If  we  went 
lower  it  was  plain  that  we  could  not  see  him 
anything  like  as  well  as  from  here.  He  was  as 
yet  too  much  hidden  from  view  to  get  a  good 
shot,  and  I  knew  that  the  bullet  of  a  .303  could 
be  very  easily  turned  even  by  a  willow  wand. 
It  was  a  thrilling  time,  those  few  minutes  of 
waiting  with  the  game  in  sight  and  within 
actual  shot.  We  could  see  his  every  movement 
as  he  munched  the  juicy  morsels.  I  could  even 
fancy  I  heard  the  scraping  of  the  food  between 
his  teeth,  but  perchance  my  imagination  helped 
me  there.  We  waited  five  minutes — perhaps 
ten,  I  cannot  say — and  at  the  end  of  that  time 


,,]  oul  of  the  willows  on  to  the  grass. 
From   the   vallej    he  had   looked  big,  but  now 

that    v..  ■     fully   realized   that 

we  hail  within  reach  the  biggest  thing  in 
grizzlies  that  we  had  ever  looked  on.  He  was 
indeed  a  giant  of  his  kind,  and  his  kind  are 
not  usually  small. 

He  was  feeding  away  from  us,  and  as  I  was 
looking  down  on  him  I  was  at  a  disadvantage. 
As  luck  would  have  it  my  first  shot  broke  his 
spine  and  then  the  great  brute  started  to  roll 
down  the  mountain-side.  After  him  we  ran. 
bounding  through  brushwood  and  over  every 
obstacle.  Could  anyone  have  been  watching 
they  would  have  been  amused  to  see  the  way 
in  which  we  covered  the  ground.  I  am  several 
years  beyond  the  sprinting  age,  but  I  am  sure 
I  chased  that  grizzly  at  the  rate  of  about  a 
mile  in  four  minutes.  The  last  we  saw  of 
him  he  was  rolling  over  a  little  ridge.  How- 
ever it  was  not  difficult  to  follow,  for  he 
cleared  a  trail  wherever  he  went.  Sending  the 
Indian  back  for  our  coats  I  followed  and  at 
last  came  upon  him  huddled  up  in  a  bunch  of 
willows.  Again  I  fired  from  about  eighty 
yards  distance  and  this  again  started  him 
rolling.  This  was  repeated  until  the  fifth 
shot  put  him  out  of  his  misery. 

He  was  a  brown  grizzly  with  a  short  coat 
similar  to  most  of  the  coast  variety.  I  won- 
dered at  the  pelt  being  so  poor,  for  he  had  not 
long  come  out  of  his  winter  quarters  and  was 
as  fat  as  if  it  were  autumn.  The  Indians  said 
they  thought  he  must  be  fifty  years  old,  but 
as  I  do  not  know  anything  about  the  natural 
age  of  a  bear  I  will  not  venture  a  guess  about 
this.  All  I  know  is  that  he  was  an  enormous 
bear,  measuring  a  trifle  over  nine  feet  from 
nose  to  tail,  and  when  skinned  the  pelt  meas- 
ured nine  feet  six  inches,  and  weighed  eighty 
pounds  without  the  skull.  This  is  the  first 
trip  I  have  made  without  a  camera  and  I 
have  never  wanted  one  so  badly. 

I  returned  at  once  to  the  boat  with  my 
trophy,  which  was  generally  admired,  but  the 
saddest  part  of  the  story  is  to  follow.  When 
we  had  finished  our  hunt,  and  were  returning 
through  Queen  Charlotte  Sound,  a  fire  broke 
out  in  the  stokehole  of  "The  Thistle"  and  all 
our  trophies  were  burned  except  one  brown 
skin  we  had  sent  down  on  the  tug  Pilot,  our- 
selves and  crew,  numbering  seventeen  in  all, 
having  but  just  time  enough  to  save  our  lives. 
We  had  the  fun,  but  we  have  nothing  to  show 
for  it. 


By  E.  C.  Crossman. 


HREE  of  us,  the  Kid,  the 
Editor  and  myself,  had  long 
been  promising  ourselves  a 
real  quail  hunt.  Our  hunting 
instincts  had  been  fired  by 
the  tales  of  big  bags  of  the 
birds  which  had  been  secured 
up  in  the  San  Fernando 
Valley.  If  I  remember  rightly 
these  same  tales  were  told  us 
by  the  gun  and  ammunition  dealers,  but 
guileless  as  we  were  we  did  not  connect 
the  tellers  and  the  tales  in  the  way  that 
the  more  sophisticated  hunter  would  have 
done,  but  swallowed  everything  whole  that 
came  our  way  in  the  shape  of  quail  stories 
and  laid  awake  nights  figuring  how  many 
birds  were  to  go  to  each  friend  at  twenty- 
five  birds  per  hunter. 

The  Editor  had  ordered  himself  an 
expensive  double  gun,  costing  some  fifteen 
dollars  F.  O.  B.  Los  Angeles,  and  we  were 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  this  masterpiece 
before   starting  our   slaughter. 

One  fine  day  the  gun  arrived — it  was 
Thursday  if  I  am  not  mistaken — and  in 
thirty  minutes  we  had  our  plans  all  laid 
to  take  the  11:55  P.  M.  train,  or  at  least 
the  train  that  was  supposed  to  leave  about 
midnight  Saturday,  and  be  on  the  grounds 
fresh   and   early   Sunday   morning. 

After  duly  admiring  the  gun,  sighting 
it  at  doors  and  windows  and  other  large 
objects  and  wondering  how  it  was  possible 
to  miss  with  a  shotgun,  we  departed  to  a 
shop  where  guns  and  all  the  accessories, 
both  before  and  after  the  fact,  were  for 
sale. 

The    man    said    that    about    three    drams 
powder  and  an  ounce  of  shot  was  a  good 
quail  load  so  we  said  in  a  businesslike  way, 
"Gimme  four  boxes". 

We  afterwards  discovered  that  the  man 
must  have  meant  three  drams  of  powder 
and  a  pound  of  shot  but  we  did  not  discover 
this  in  time  to  have  any  bearing  on  the 
hunt. 


The  Editor  after  vainly  trying  to  cram 
a  shell  into  his  gun  upon  his  return  to  the 
office  with  the  paraphernalia,  and  after 
much  calling  of  curses  down  upon  the  heads 
of  the  makers  of  the  gun  for  making  the 
barrels  too  small,  finally  decided  that  it 
would  be  better  to  use  16  gauge  shells  in 
a  16  gauge  gun  instead  of  going  to  the 
trouble  of  roughly  jamming  a  12  gauge 
shell  into  a  gun  a  size  too  small,  and  again 
paid  a  visit  to  the  gun  emporium  to  make 
the  exchange. 

I,  after  careful  reading  of  the  advertise- 
ments on  the  back  pages  of  the  sporting 
magazines,  found  in  the  Western  Field  an 
advertisement  extolling  the  virtues  of  a  new 
gun  which  you  loaded  up  with  some  half 
a  box  of  shells,  from  this  time  on  until  the 
gun  was  empty  it  being  merely  necessary 
to  press  the  trigger  when  the  gun  was  in 
the  general  direction  of  the  bird  and  then 
go  and  pick  up  the  bird,  and  so  on  ad 
finem  or  until  the  birds  or  the  shells 
gave  out.  I  bought  one  in  spite  of  the 
scornful  remarks  of  the  Editor  anent  "Game 
hogs"  and  their  guns.  I  felt  that  with  a 
bag  of  some  twenty-five  birds  at  the  end 
of  the  day  that  the  argument  would  be  too 
strong  for  the  opposition  and  so  made  no 
reply  until  I  could  secure  the  argument. 

The  Kid  rented  a  gun.  This  class  of 
guns  are  furnished  to  the  gun  stores  by  the 
Audabon  and  other  societies  for  the  pres- 
ervation of  birds  and  game;  they  fulfill 
their  object  nobly,  as  they  make  a  loud 
noise  and  do  no  harm  except  to  the 
shooter's  feelings. 

Saturday  night  saw  us  at  the  depot,  laden 
with  a  lunch  that  weighed  some  ten  pounds 
apiece  and  ammunition  of  indeterminate 
weight,  ranging  from  ten  pounds  to  as  many 
tons  as  the  day  of  the  hunt  passed  on.  We 
got  on  the  train  and  the  conductor  informed 
us  that  the  train  did  not  stop  at  Roscoe, 
our  destination,  some  fourteen  miles  up  the 
Fernando  Valley. 

We   decided   to   stay  on,   anyhow,   and   if 


WESTERN  FIELD 


the  conductor  wanted  t"  carry  us  on  to  San 
Fernando  so  mnch  the  better,  as  some  of 
the  plots  of  the  biggest  tales  we  had 
listened  to  had  been  laid  in  the  vicinity  of 
San  Fernando  and  we  argued  that  a  quail 
quail  no  matter  where  you  found  him. 

The  conductor  was  right.  The  train  did 
not  stop  at  Roscoe,  but  we  got  off  just  the 
same.  Away  out  on  a  cactus  desert  the 
engine  howled  some  remark  to  the  rest  of 
the  train  and  the  brakeman  came  back  to  us 
and  observed:  "Here  is  where  you  get  off". 

The  train  slackened  speed  a  little  so  that 
the  telegraph  poles  ceased  to  look  like 
pickets  on  a  fence  and  took  some  individual- 
ity, but  the  train  was  still  running,  as  we 
afterwards  figured  it,  about  forty  miles  per 
hour.  The  "braky"  pointed  out  a  light 
some  five  miles  down  the  track  ahead  of 
us  and  said.  "That's  Roscoe  and  you  want 
to  jump  lively  as  we  cannot  stop  long." 
They  didn't.  The  engine  kept  right  along 
with  its  monotonous  grumbling  to  itself  and 
so  we  agreed  that  we  would  jump;  the 
Editor  first,  the  Kid  about  the  switch  light 
at  Roscoe,  while  I  was  to  jump  last. 

As  the  light  was  fast  approaching  the 
Editor  swung  off.  I  figured  that  he  kept 
up  with  the  platform  on  which  we  were 
standing  for  a  distance  of  a  hundred  yards 
after  he  jumped  and  his  gun  being  lighter, 
did  fifty  yards  more  before  dropping  behind 
the  procession..  Finally  an  agonized  yell 
and  a  dull  thud  announced  that  the  Editor 
had  stopped  rolling. 

The  Kid  looked  scared  but  I  told  him 
not  to  get  off  like  an  old  lady  but  to  swing 
off  as  low  as  possible.  Just  there  or  there- 
abouts the  Southern  Pacific  had  scooped  out 
a  gravel  and  sand  pit,  but  in  the  white 
moonlight  it  looked  just  like  all  the  rest 
of  the  landscape  and  the  Kid  let  go  just 
over  the  excavation.  The  gravel  was  good 
and  soft  and  the  pit  too  high  from  bottom 
to  top  to  permit  any  great  progress  after 
striking  in  it,  but  the  fall  was  long  and  Kid 
got  in  three  long  Apache  howls  before 
hitting  terra  firma.  He  certainly  got  off  as 
low  as  possible  all  right. 

I  profited  by  their  experience  and  got 
off  gracefully,  although  the  gang  insisted 
that  my  clothes  did  not  look  the  part;  but 
a  little  roll  in  the  soft  sand  didn't  hurt, 
and  I  had  thrown  the  gun  and  lunch  before 


alighting  myself,  so  escaped  any  great 
damage. 

Ten  minutes  walk  took  the  Kid  and  my- 
self  back  to  the  light  at  the  "Town"  of 
Roscoe,  when  a  little  later  the  Editor  and 
some  of  his  clothes  likewise  arrived.  We 
hiked  a  long  five  miles  in  the  moonlight 
up  toward  the  foothills  and  the  later  it  got 
the  colder  it  became.  Finally  arriving  at  a 
convenient  hay  stack,  we  unpacked  our 
blankets,  scraped  a  little  hay  together  and 
tried  to  sleep  the  rest  of  the  night.  Only 
those  who  have  tried  sleeping  out  on  a 
cold  December  night  in  "Sunny  California" 
can  appreciate  our  pleasure,  and  if  I  ever 
come  any  nearer  to  freezing  to  death  there 
will  be  no  use  coming  back  to  this  sphere 
at  all.  A  lone  coyote  sat  out  on  a  mound 
and  howled  praise  to  the  sun  that  was  to 
come,  and  curses  on  the  cold  moon  that 
was,  until  even  his  howls  froze  up  in  his 
throat  and  he  strangled. 

At  the  first  break  of  day  we  arose  from 
our  hard  beds,  cold,  stiff,  sleepy,  hungry 
and  disgusted.  After  concealing  our  bedding 
and  gun  cases  in  the  hay,  we  started  for  a 
little  reservoir  or  lake  about  a  half  a  mile 
away.  On  the  way  over  three  fine  mallards 
got  up  from  the  little  water  course  that 
we  were  following  and  flew  off  with  loud 
noise  of  wings.  We  looked  after  them 
stupidly  and  without  interest.  What  we 
wanted  was  hot  coffee  and  a  fire,  not  some 
darned  old  ducks. 

Arriving  at  the  reservoir,  the  same  three 
mallards,  accompanied  by  some  ten  or 
fifteen  cousins,  arose  and  left  for  parts  un- 
known. This  aroused  some  interest  in  the 
crowd  of  us,  enough  to  start  angry  re- 
criminations about  not  having  sense  enough 
to  sneak  up  on  the  reservoir  and  get  a 
couple  of  the  ducks. 

After  building  a  fire  and  feeling  the 
grateful  warmth  stealing  through  our  bones 
we  began  to  take  a  more  optimistic  view 
of  life,  and  a  little  later  when  the  sun  peeped 
over  the  hills  back  of  us,  and  a  cock  quail 
up  in  the  brush  greeted  Old  Sol  with  a 
merry,  "Co-co-Ah-Ca„  Co-co-aaah-Ca",  we 
gave  a  feeble  cheer  and  set  unpacking  the 
grub.  With  about  a  quart  of  hot  coffee 
gurgling  about  our  innards,  and  a  half 
pound  or  more  of  hot  bacon  where  it  would 
do    the    most    good,    in    addition    to    other 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


43 


things  calculated  to  stay  the  inner  man 
until  the  next  meal,  we  felt  positively  like 
hunters  again  and  ready  to  climb  the 
highest  hill  before  us  in  search  of  the 
elusive  beauties  which  were  by  that  time 
calling  all  around  us.  The  Editor,  who 
was  coldblooded  and  thawed  out  slower 
than  the  other  members  of  the  crowd,  was 
loth  to  leave  the  pleasant  fire,  so  after 
packing  up  the  remnants  of  the  feast  I 
placed  a  12  gauge  shell  in  the  live  coals  and 
suggested  that  we  all  leave.  We  did.  The 
Editor,  who  was  unacquainted  with  the 
harmless  properties  of  smokeless  powder 
unconfined  in  a  gun,  left  some  ten  seconds 
ahead  of  the  other  two  of  us,  which  was 
very  good  considering  the  even  start  which 
we  all  had. 

Several  hundred  yards  ahead,  when  the 
Editor's  pace  had  settled  down  to  a  gallop, 
he  nearly  ran  over  a  cottontail  which  was 
sitting  by  the  side  of  the  trail  and  sleepily 
rubbing  its  eyes. 

As  the  bunnie  only  ran  off  a  few  yards 
and  then  stopped,  I  suggested  shooting  it; 
but  the  Editor  scornfully  announced  that 
he  had  not  come  after  rabbits — he  wanted 
quail.  Towards  the  end  of  the  day  I  caught 
this  self  same  editor  stalking  a  ground 
squirrel  about  four  inches  long  with  the 
fiendish   eagerness   of  an  Apache. 

We  early  ran  into  a  field  which  had  been 
burned  off  and  which  was  covered  with 
stubble  about  two  inches  high.  We  decided 
to  hunt  in  this  field  as  we  could  retrieve 
our  birds  much  easier  than  by  climbing 
around  in  the  brush.  We  had  no  trouble 
retrieving  all  that  we  found  in  this  field, 
and  somewhat  taken  aback  by  our  lack  of 
success  in  finding  the  birds,  we  decided  to 
go  down  in  the  Tejunga  wash,  which  was 
covered  with  cactus  and  rocks,  and  try  our 
luck  there.  We  separated,  the  Editor  going 
across  the  wash  on  an  angle,  the  Kid  and 
myself  keeping  near  each  other  and  walking 
straight  across. 

I  had  walked  about  two  hundred  yards 
when  suddenly  a  big  cock  quail  got  up  from 
almost  under  my  feet  and  started  off  back 
of  me.  I  instinctively  threw  the  gun  around 
on  to  him  and  with  the  crack  of  the 
Ballistite  down  tumbled  the  beauty  with  a 
thump.  I  scrambled  over  rocks  and  brush 
to  where  the  quail  had  fallen.    No  quail  was 


in  sight,  but  about  ten  yards  further  on 
sat  the  cock,  watching  me  with  a  disgusted 
look.  I  interpreted  his  expression  to  be 
about  this:  "Well  I  must  be  in  my  second 
childhood,  sure,  when  a  greenie  like  that 
can  walk  up  and  flush  me  and  then  get 
me.  I  might  as  well  quit  right  here."  I 
deposited  him  in  my  brand  new  hunting 
coat  and  the  little  bundle  of  feathers  sent 
pleasant  thrills  through  me  every  time  I 
felt  it  strike  my  hip. 

Much  encouraged,  we  continued  our 
march  across  the  wash  to  where  the  hills 
rose  up  like  a  wall  in  front  of  us.  When 
we  got  within  about  fifty  yards  of  the  hills, 
there  was  a  thunderous  roar  and  a  band 
of  fully  two  hundred  of  the  blue  beauties 
got  up  in  front  of  us  just  out  of  gun 
shot  and  took  to  the  mountain-side.  We 
both  took  chances  and  blazed  away,  but 
the  slain  did  not  appear  to  cover  the  ground 
nor  did  the  covey  appear  to  diminish  in 
size  as  it  disappeared  in  the  brush.  The 
Kid  and  I  went  up  that  hill  like  a  pair  of 
hounds,  and  hustled  over  boulders  and 
through  the  brush  to  where  the  nearest 
bird  had  disappeared,  but  no  birds  were  to 
be  seen.  We  climbed  about  fifty  yards 
higher  when  suddenly  a  pair  of  the  beauties 
flushed  from  under  our  feet  and  started 
off  up  the  hill. 

Both  guns  cracked  in  unison  and  the  Kid 
sat  down  in  a  bush  suddenly  and  reflected 
aloud  about  the  kind  of  gun  the  stores  rent 
to  suckers.  One  of  the  quail  doubled  up  in 
mid-air  and  fell  with  a  thud  and  I  went 
after  him  on  the  run,  leaving  my  gun  where 
I  stood.  I  crashed  through  a  bush  and  just 
as  I  landed  where  I  had  seen  the  bird  fall 
about  twenty  more  got  up  and  flew  off  in  all 
directions,  with  their  eyes  popping  out.  I 
know  better  now. 

I  found  the  quail  I  had  hit,  however,  and 
proudly  picked  him  up  and  started  back.  As 
I  got  in  sight  the  chorus  howled  in  unison, 
"I  got  him".  Then  the  chorus  looked  at 
each  other  with  deep  scorn.  "You  got  him! 
I  guess  not,  I  had  a  dead  bead  on  him  just 
as  I  fired".  I  sat  down  to  patiently  and 
carefully  explain  to  the  Kid  just  how  he 
missed  and  the  reason  why  I  killed  the  quail, 
and  when  the  Editor  arrived  some  half  an 
hour  later  the  debate  was  still  going  on, 
with  heat. 


It 


II  /       I  h  ,    FIELD 


il,,.  Editoi  was  hot  and  disgusted,  and 
last  bul  not  least,  empty  handed  "Well, 
why  in  thunder  didn't  you  mutts  keep  after 
ti,r    rest    "i    the   c<  '   "f   sitting 

fawn   .m.l  chewing   the   rag   lil 
arclel"  qui  ried  the  Editor  with  hi  at,  and  the 
Kid  and  l  looked  at  each  other  sheepishly. 
The  bird  in  my  pocket  had  been  worth  more 
apparently  than  the  rest  o  out  in 

the   brush 

We  climbed  slowly  and  painfully  around 
the  side  of  the  steep  hill,  and  the  Kid  and 
myself  kept  around  the  hill  while  the  Editor 
crossed  an  intervening  brushy  gulch  and 
climbed  on  a  ridge  that  ran  parallel  with 
our  course.  He  immediately  began  to  flush 
the  birds  out  of  bushes  and  tufts  of  weeds 
along  the  ridge,  and  for  the  next  twelve  or 
fifteen  shots  he  gave  one  of  the  finest 
exhibitions  of  missing  that  I  have  ever  seen. 
Known  angles  and  unknown  angles; 
straightaways  and  quarterers;  high  birds 
and  low  ones,  the  Editor  missed  with  the 
utmost  impartiality  while  we  danced  im- 
potently  on  our  birdless  side  and  howled 
advice  across  to  the  disgusted  Nimrod. 

A  good  shot  could  have  picked  up  the 
limit  in  an  hour  in  that  locality;  the  birds 
had  gone  up  the  side  of  the  gulch  and 
preferred  hiding  on  its  top  to  flushing  and 
going  down  into  the  next  gulch,  but  the 
chances  were  wasted  on  the  Editor. 

I  ran  across  a  poor  unsuspecting  bunnie 
sitting  under  a  bush  watching  the  Editor 
scare  quail,  and  taking  a  long  and  careful 
aim  and  shooting  three  or  four  loads  of 
shot  into  the  poor  rabbit  for  good  measure, 
I  gathered  the  bunnie  in  and  he  afterwards 
proved  the  most  toothsome  of  all  of  our 
game.  • 

As  the  Editor  appeared  to  have  frightened 
the  rest  of  the  quail  tribe  out  of  the  country 
with  his  fusillade,  and  as  it  was  also  getting 
hot,  we  decided  to  cross  the  wash  and  head 
for  Monte  Vista.  Arriving  at  the  little 
village  we  found  the  whole  population  at 
church,  but  as  we  improved  the  opportunity 
to  steal  all  the  grapes  we  could  eat  we  didn't 
feel  any  great  sensation  of  loneliness.  We 
went  to  a  little  "Hotel"  (as  it  was  called) 
for  dinner,  and  when  the  landlady-cook- 
waitress-chambermaid-bell-boy-clerk  arrived, 
she  cooked  us  a  feed  fit  for  the  gods  and  we 
did  full  justice  to  it,  as  only  hunters  can. 


When  we  went  out  on  the  verandah,  my 

quail    and    rabbit    that    I    had    hunt;    over  the 

muzzle  of  my  gun  had  disappeared,  and 
.nn.i  the  place  I  finally 
[ound  a  long  hungry  grey  cat  with  one  eye, 
busily  engaged  in  eating  the  head  off  the 
second  quail,  the  first  head  with  its  hand- 
plume  having  already  disappeared. 
Instead  of  stepping  on  the  cat's  tail  and  then 
kicking  her  head  off,  I  cheated  myself  out 
of  my  revenge  by  kicking  her  so  far  that 
she  got  time  to  recover  and  make  her  get- 
away before  I  could  reach  the  spot  where 
she  lit.  I  have  no  use  for  a  cat,  and  this 
instance  simply  confirmed  my  distaste  for 
them. 

After  an  hour's  loaf  on  the  verandah,  we 
again  took  up  our  burdens  and  decided  that 
we  would  keep  along  the  hills  toward 
Pacoima  and  take  our  train  back  to  the 
city  from  this  station.  After  an  hour's 
tramp  fortune  guided  our  footsteps  to  a 
little  grove  of  about  three  acres,  where  a 
lot  of  little  trees  or  bushes  about  ten  feet  high 
had  been  left  by  some  rancher.  On  one 
side  were  the  hills  and  on  the  other  three 
sides  was  a  barley  field  already  plowed  and 
in  this  field  was  a  wagon  fitted  up  with 
some  sort  of  an  automatic  seeder  that  was 
slinging  barley  all  over  the  place.  With  our 
limited  experience  we  sized  the  place  up  as 
being  a  good  one  for  the  birds,  and  so 
approached  it  from  the  side  toward  the 
hills,  hoping  to  break  up  any  covey  that  the 
grove  might  shelter  and  prevent  them  from 
flying  en  masse  to  the  brushy  hills.  We 
found  the  grove  covered  with  a  growth  of 
dried  weeds  about  a  foot  high,  offering 
excellent  cover  for  the  quail,  and  our  hopes 
ran  high  of  getting  a  covey  cornered  in  the 
patch,  but  we  walked  clear  through  the  little 
grove  without  seeing  a  sign  of  a  bird  and 
were  beginning  to  believe  we  had  drawn 
that  covert  blank. 

We  had  got  within  fifty  yards  of  the 
open  barley  field  when  the  Kid  espied  one 
of  the  little  blue  fellows  dodging  across  a 
clear  space  in  the  weeds;  two  steps  more 
were  taken,  when  whir-r-r-r!  up  got  a  big 
covey  from  under  our  very  feet  and,  dis- 
liking to  fly  over  the  cleared  field,  broke  in 
all  directions  and  circled  back  by  us  to  the 
center  of  the  grove. 

The     Editor     blazed     away     with      both 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


45 


barrels — it  was  impossible  to  pick  any  one 
bird — but  failed  to  score.  The  Kid  and  I  had 
traded  guns,  and  he  got  one  bird  very 
neatly  with  the  automatic  while  I  tried  to 
pull  the  right  trigger  of  my  gun  out  by  the 
roots,  discovering  later  that  the  safety  was 
on. 

We  started  around  the  grove,  and  within 
fifty  yards  began  to  flush  the  scattered 
birds,  one  after  another.  They  seemed  to 
hate  to  cross  the  open  space  over  the 
barley  field  and  would  lie  until  we  kicked 
them  out,  then  would  fly  to  another  part  of 
the  grove  and  repeat  the  performance.  The 
shooting,  to  a  tyro,  was  the  very  hardest 
kind,  as  we  would  circle  the  grove  and  the 
birds  would  get  up  and  fly  across  us  to  the 
center  and  hit  them  we  could  not. 

Once  in  a  while  we  would  get  a  straight- 
away bird  and  knock  him  over,  but  as  a  rule 
the  bird  that  got  up  and  flew  across  our 
course  would  escape  safely.  A  good  shot 
would  have  had  to  quit  shooting  within  an 
hour  to  keep  him  from  ripping  another  hole 
in  California's  already  punctured  game  laws, 
the  birds  were  so  thick;  but  we  experienced 
no  such  choice  of  two  evils  and  kept  blaz- 
ing away  merrily,  now  and  then  scoring  on 
one  of  the  whirring  beauties  but  mostly 
missing  cleanly. 

We  made  the  circuit  of  the  grove  a  dozen 
times  and  never  failed  to  flush  the  birds 
every  few  hundred  feet.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  performance  I  took  the  gun  away 
from  the  Kid  and  burned  up  shells  in  a 
scandalous  way.  I  would  miss  the  bird  with 
the  first  shot,  pull  on  him  the  second  time 
and  if  there  was  space  enough  in  front  of 
him  to  prevent  him  from  disappearing, 
would  drive  in  a  third  shot.  I  quit  this  after 
a  while  and  soon  began  to  discover  that 
the  first  shot  got  the  bird  or  else  he  got 
away,  and  that  the  rapid  fire  business  while 
nice  on  paper  didn't  work  in  real  life.  To 
tell  the  truth,  the  Kid  got  just  as  many  with 
the  double  gun  as  I  did  with  my  gatling, 
and  I  soon  forgot  that  I  had  more  than 
one  shot  available. 

The  Editor  after  a  time  learned  the  secret 
of  holding  away  ahead  of  his  bird  and  not 
stopping  the  gun,  and  to  his  pride  got  two 
quail  with  two  successive  shots,  his  first 
two  birds  of  the  day.  Around  and  around 
we   tramped,   up   whirred    the    birds — and    I 


regret  to  state  kept  on  whirring  in  spite 
of  the  rapid  bangs  of  the  heated  guns. 

At  length  the  birds  began  to  thin  out, 
and  when  we  reached  for  shells  it  was 
necessary  for  us  to  fish  through  three  or 
four  pockets  to  find  one,  so  we  decided  to 
make  just  one  more  circuit  and  quit.  At 
the  first  fifty  steps  I  put  up  a  big  cock  and 
hit  it  with  the  center  of  my  load,  at  the 
wonderful  distance  of  about  five  yards,  as 
he  was  wildly  struggling  over  the  top  of  a 
bush.  The  Kid  who  was  on  the  other  side 
states  that  pieces  of  quail  flew  for  fifty  feet 
and  he  certainly  got  a  few  of  them  from  the 
blood  which  bespattered  his  garments. 

A  rabbit  created  a  diversion  by  jumping 
up  and  running  past  the  three  of  us  un- 
scathed, and  while  we  were  explaining  to 
each  other  our  respective  reasons  for  miss- 
ing this  rabbit,  a  bird  got  up  from  the  bush 
just  in  front  of  us  and  also  sailed  off  with- 
out having  a  feather  wrinkled. 

We  completed  our  circuit  and  got  just 
one  more  bird,  which  fell  before  the  Kid's 
gun,  and  then  stopped  to  take  stock.  We 
had  fourteen  birds  between  us,  the  Kid  and 
I  having  five  each  and  the  Editor  having 
four,  not  a  bad  bag  for  such  green  hands. 
We  also  had  about  as  many  shells  left  as 
we  had  birds  and  so  we  decided  it  was 
time  to  quit  and  trek  for  Pacoima. 

We  regretfully  left  this  quail  hotel  and 
started  for  Pacoima,  four  miles  away.  We 
picked  up  a  rabbit  just  outside  the  grove 
and  a  little  later  the  Kid  enlivened  the 
proceedings  by  stepping  over  a  four  foot 
rattlesnake,  which  took  no  interest  in  the 
proceedings  whatever,  luckily  for  the  Kid. 
After  removing  the  rattler's  head  with  a 
shotgun  and  his  rattles  with  a  pocket  knife, 
we  resumed  our  weary  way  and  arrived  at 
Pacoima  just  at  dusk. 

A  band  of  hunters  had  already  assembled 
from  all  the  points  of  the  compass  and  had 
a  fire  going  beside  the  track,  fed,  I  regret 
to  state,  with  pieces  of  the  Southern  Pacific's 
platform  at  that  point.  Many  were  the 
experiences  exchanged  beside  this  cheery 
fire  and  the  merry  "josh"  flew  about  ever 
and  anon. 

One  man,  clad  in  a  black  suit,  tall  white 
collar  and  black  derby,  equipped  with  a 
white  oilcloth  game  bag  and  a  rented 
pump  gun,   was  loud  in  his   expressions   of 


16 


WESTlih'X  FIELD 


disgust  .a  tlii*  particular  make  of  gun  and 
that  be  bad  targ<  t<  d  it  at  the  side  of 
Med  shanty  and  that  it  threw  a  per- 
fect riii>,'  of  sh,.ts  with  an  eight  inch  hole  in 
the  center.  He  had  ran  across  the  same 
flock  of  mallards  that  we  had  found  in  the 
reservoir,  feeding  down  in  the  Tejunga 
Wash  (then  full  of  water)  and  stated  with 
many  adjectives  that  he  had  fired  point 
blank  three  times  at  the  ducks  both  on  the 
sit  and  on  the  wing  and  had  never  even 
got  a  feather. 

"That's  easily  explained"  said  the  quiet 
man  in  the  shadow  with  the  full  game 
pockets. 

"How"  demanded  the  irate  one  with  the 
tall    collar. 

"Why  the  ducks  saw  the  hole  in  the 
center  of  your  load  and  dodged  through  it 
each  time." 


The  roar  that  went  up  put  an  end  to  the 
complainings  of  the  gentleman  with  the 
pump  gun. 

.hist  then  a  mellow  whistle  came  floating 
down  the  valley  and  a  far  off  speck  of 
light  appeared  up  the  track.  There  was  a 
general  rush  for  the  traps  and  game  and 
some  one  threw  a  match  in  the  pile  of 
paper  on  the  track,  our  signal  lamp.  A 
little  later  two  sharp  toots  came  floating 
to  our  ears,  the  engineer  had  seen  our 
signal  and  the  train  which  was  to  carry  us 
back  to   civilization   came   sliding  in. 

We  climbed  aboard,  tired  but  happy.  We 
had  climbed  the  goat  and  ridden  the  pole. 
We  were  of  the  initiated  and  belonged  to 
the  great  brotherhood  of  the  Hunters  at 
last  and  we  were  going  to  be  active 
members    from    that    time    on. 


^o^O 


■■% 


Q= 

cr 


SOUTH  COAST  SHOOTING 


By  "Stillhunter.' 


=0 


VII.     The  Mountain   Lion. 


ARGEST  of  all  the  Felidac  known 
to  inhabit  America  north  of  the 
Mexican  boundary;  more  fabled, 
possibly,  than  any  other  animal 
in  all  history  save  the  bear, 
there  is  a  peculiar  interest  cen- 
ters about  the  mountain  lion, 
felis  concolor,  in  whatever  part 
of  the  continent  it  is  found. 
With  a  range  extending  from 
Cape  Horn  on  the  south  to  the  Canadian  bor- 
der and  beyond  in  the  north,  this  cat  is  known 
to  every  tribe  that  inhabits  the  New  World, 
and  every  tongue  had  a  different  name  for  it. 
To  South  Americans,  ranging  far  and  wide 
over  the  boundless  Pampas,  it  was  and  is  the 
puma ;  Pennsylvanias,  residents  of  the  Adiron- 
dacks  and  the  Alleghenies,  and  others  of  east- 
ern hunters  in  whose  states  this  cat  once 
ranged,  called  it  panther,  which  speedily  be- 
came corrupted  into  "painter";  still  farther 
north  it  is  the  catamount,  close  kin  in  the 
terror  it  inspires  with  the  loup  garou  and  the 
"lucevee"  of  northern  woods. 

West  of  the  Mississippi — possibly  I  should 
be  more  particular  and  say  west  of  the  Mis- 
souri— this  lank,  gray  denizen  of  the  barren 
buttes  and  the  timbered  hills  has  been  the 
"mountain  lion"  since  the  early  days  of  the 
trappers.  In  a  more  restricted  sense,  west  of 
the  Sierra  Nevadas,  it  is  commonly  called 
California  lion. 

In  a  way  there  is  reason  for  these  names, 
for  the  panther  of  Pennsylvania  is,  in  minor 
characteristics,  different  from  the  puma  of 
South  America,  the  catamount  of  the  North  or 
the  lion  of  the  West,  just  as  they  are  each  dif- 
ferent from  the  other.  But  I  doubt  very 
seriously  if  there  is  a  naturalist  in  these  United 
States  who  could  separate  these  animals 
species  by  species  from  a  series  of  skins  taken 
throughout   their   wide   breeding   range. 

Like  precious  gold,  the  mountain  lion  is 
found  where  he  happens  to  be.  The  hunter 
may  look  for  him  through  all  one  slope  of  the 
Sierra  today  and  not  find  anything  but  old 
tracks ;  he  may  wander  across  a  whole  range 


of  barren  lava  on  the  desert  without  so  much 
as  striking  a  warm  trail,  and,  on  the  morrow, 
he  may  find  the  great  cats  in  both  of  the 
regions  over  which  he  searched  so  assiduously 
the  day  before. 

The  mountain  lion  is  a  great  traveler,  and 
places  which  have  not  known  him  for  years 
may  suddenly  wake  up  to  find  that  a  pair  have 
domiciled  themselves  in  a  little-suspected  cave 
or  beneath  the  roots  of  some  fallen  tree,  where 
hunters  most  familiar  with  the  section  never 
would  think  of  looking  for  them. 

In  spite  of  this  trait  of  moving  about,  the 
mountain  lion  is  also  a  permanent  resident 
in  sections  where  he  is  not  too  much  molested, 
as  many  a  cattle  raiser  of  Montana  and 
Wyoming  and  many  a  sheep  herder  of  the 
Southwest  can  testify. 

Gradually,  however,  these  cats  are  disappear- 
ing from  the  hills  and  the  mesas  of  Southern 
California.  Time  was  when  even  so  young  a 
hunter  as  the  writer  can  remember  "lions"  as 
more  than  common  in  the  hill  regions  of  the 
Southwest.  Now  the  killing  of  one  of  these 
cats  with  a  pack  of  hounds,  or  the  capture  of 
one  in  a  trap  set  for  coyotes,  is  the  signal  for 
a  great  congratulation  to  the  hunter  and  much 
noise  in  the  local  papers. 

In  the  central  and  northern  counties  of  this 
State,  however,  and  in  Oregon  and  Washing- 
ton, there  seem  to  be  plenty  of  the  big  cats 
left  for  those  ambitious  Nimrods  who  care  to 
go  so  far  in  pursuit  of  them  amid  the  tangles 
of  the  mountain  fastnesses  to  which  they  have 
for  the  most  part  been  driven. 

The  center  of  abundance  of  mountain  lions 
at  the  present  time  in  Southern  California  is 
down  on  the  slopes  of  Smith  Mountain  and 
the  near-by  hills  of  San  Diego  County.  A 
man  _in  that  region  with  a  well-trained  pack 
of  hounds  can  have  great  sport,  and  if  he 
fails  to  get  the  mountain  lions  he  seeks  he  at 
least  can  have  the  consolation  of  as  good  wild 
cat  hunting  as  can  be  had  in  the  State,  bar 
none. 

And  this  brings  us  to  one  of  the  real  out- 


IS 


117  W/  A'V  FIELD 


door  gamei  of  the  Southwest-  the  pursuit  of 
ill.  mountain  lion  with  hounds.  I  lure  is  good 
fan  I"  be  had  with  the  same  hounds  and  horses 
after    wild    cats    and    coyote-.    OVW    nuich    the 

same  ground  as  that  frequented  by  the  larger 
cats,  but  it  never  compares  for  all  round  un- 
certaint)  and  excitement,  or  in  the  suretj  of 
a  tight  if  llto  animal  is  treed,  that  comes  from 
the  chase  of  the  lion. 

The  fur  of  any  nf  the  four-fect,  of  course, 
is  never  very  good  in  this  part  of  the  world, 
but  the  pelt  of  the  lion  is  best  in  December  or 
early  in  January  before  the  females  retire  to 
their  caves  to  hear  their  young.  These  same 
young  can  be  tamed  to  a  certain  extent  if 
captured,  hut  as  they  gain  in  size  and  strength 
they  become  unruly  captives,  and  as  a  rule 
their  captors  are  only  too  willing  to  turn  them 
over  to  some  park  or  zoological  garden  for 
safe  keeping  behind  bars. 

When  young  the  cubs,  which  are  usually 
two  in  number  and  born  in  March,  are  spotted, 
as  are  the  young  of  African  lions,  and  are 
the  most  playful  kits  the  wildwood  produces. 
Young  wild  cats  have  some  of  the  innate 
ferocity  of  their  ancestors  from  the  moment 
they  first  draw  in  their  mother's  milk,  but 
young  mountain  lions  are  as  good-natured  as 
tame  kittens;  I  have  played  with  two  such  for 
hours  with  nothing  but  a  rubber  ball  and  a 
piece  of  string.  In  the  cave  at  first  they 
scratch  and  bite  like  little  demons,  but  they 
soon  get  over  this  ugly  disposition,  especially 
when  fed  on  bread  and  milk  and  given  but 
small  quantities  of  meat. 

So  far  as  I  am  able  to  learn,  the  mountain 
lion  family  stays  together  almost  for  a  year. 
It  may  be  that  the  animals  breed  only  every 
two  years,  but  I  know  that  I  have  seen  half- 
grown  youngsters  prowling  about  the  moun- 
tains back  of  "Arden"  in  company  with  an 
older  female.  One  afternoon,  sitting  in  the 
bed  of  the  wash  of  the  Santa  Ana  River,  up 
above  Yorba,  in  company  with  H.  A.  Brad- 
ford, an  enthusiastic  naturalist  and  sportsman 
of  Placentia,  California,  we  were  surprised  to 
see  two  lions  come  walking  out  of  the  thick 
underbrush,  right  beside  the  dim  clearing 
which  marked  the  road,  and  start  across  the 
wash.  This  was  in  June  or  July,  I  do  not 
well  remember  which,  but  think  it  the  latter 
month.  One  of  the  cats  was  full  grown,  the 
other  was  scarcely  half  size,  apparently  a 
mother  and  her  kitten  of  the  spring  previous. 

Bradford   reached  for  the  only  weapon  we 


had.  a  .22  repeating  rifle,  and  sent  a  bullet 
after  the  pair  just  as  they  turned  into  the 
brush.  With  a  snarl  the  larger  cat  win  (led 
in  her  tracks  and  bit  Savagely  at  one  hip.  Ap- 
parently the  bullet  found  its  mark,  for  Brad- 
ford is  a  good  rifle  shot,  but  we  were  unable 
to  trace  the  lions  further  than  the  opening  in 
the  tangle,  into  which  they  disappeared  almost 
as  soon  as  the  little  gun  cracked. 

This,  however,  is  one  of  the  few  and  rare 
instances  in  which  I  or  anyone  else,  for  that 
matter,  have  come  on  these  animals  in  the 
wild.  They  are  the  greatest  hunters  known  to 
tliis  part  of  the  country,  and  the  man  never 
lived   who  could  successfully  stillhunt  them. 

In  the  total  I  suppose  I  have  spent  days, 
.25-20  rifle  over  shoulder,  tramping  through 
the  known  range  of  the  big  cats,  finding  fresh 
tracks  here  and  there,  always  near  the  spring, 
absolutely  sure  that  from  some  coign  of  van- 
tage at  least  one  pair  of  wild  eyes  was  fol- 
lowing me,  yet  never  able  to  come  on  one. 
Whenever  the  good  luck  has  fallen  to  me  to 
see  the  cats  I  have  been  without  my  gun.  and 
the  glimpses  I  got  of  them  were  only  the  most 
fleeting,  so  that  little  short  of  a  ten-bore  shot- 
gun charge  of  buckshot  would  have  stood  any 
chance  of  stopping  one. 

One  of  the  last  mountain  lions  of  which  I 
know  as  being  killed  near  Los  Angeles  by 
chance  hunters  was  shot  in  a  dense  growth  of 
willow  scrub  in  the  same  Santa  Ana  River 
wash  in  which  the  incident  narrated  above  took 
place.  Three  young  men  from  Anaheim  were 
hunting  rabbits  in  the  dry  river  bed,  with  a 
couple  of  mongrel  dogs.  The  dogs,  ranging 
through  a  narrow  strip  of  willows,  "flushed" 
the  big  cat,  and  two  charges  of  No.  4's  from 
the  boys'  shotguns  laid  it  out. 

It  was  a  small  lion,  and  apparently  had  been 
caught  between  nights  on  its  way  from  the 
hills  back  of  Olive  to  the  hills  of  the  Chino 
Ranch  on  the  other  side  of  the  valley.  For  a 
full  grown  lion  to  be  caught  in  a  narrow  strip 
of  willows  so  far  from  home  hills  and  a 
friendly  sheltering  cave  would  practically  be  an 
impossibility,  and  it  must  be  that  this  was 
nothing  but  an  overgrown  kitten  who  slipped 
away  from  the  parental  range  too  soon.  Per- 
haps his  story — his  tragedy — would  prove  in- 
teresting reading,  did  we  but  know  it,  for 
manifold  and  wonderful  are  the  dramas 
worked  out  under  the  sky  and  the  trees  with 
four-footed  Hamlets  and  Iagos,  no'  to  men- 
tion Desdemonas  and  Portias. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


49 


But  the  lion  is  no  sentimentalist ;  he  is  a 
coward,  a  thief,  a  cut-throat  and  a  renegade, 
but  he  is  the  cleverest  hunter  that  ever  graced 
four  feet.  He  has  a  weasel  bea:  so  far  that 
the  little  brown  fellow  hasn't  even  a  look-in 
for  his  white  chip.  The  golden  eagle,  that 
famed  harrier  of  the  air,  is  not  more  clever 
in  his  hunting  that  the  gray  cat  of  the  hills  and 
the  valleys  of  the  Southwest. 

But  despite  all  his  own  skill  in  the  pursuit 
of  his  quarry,  the  mountain  lion  is  a  ridicu- 
lously simple  animal  to  capture  with  dogs  and 
horses  by  men  who  know  the  game  as  thor- 
oughly as  do  some  of  the  members  of  the 
hunt  clubs  of  which  California  boasts. 

I  am  going  more  into  detail  as  to  the  hounds 
and  horses  which  the  exigencies  of  hunting 
demand  in  this  end  of  the  State  in  a  later 
paper;  just  now  I  have  room  but  to  tell  of  one 
chase  which  resulted  in  the  death  of  a  small 
lion.  At  the  time  of  which  I  write,  I  was 
possessed  of  two  as  good  hounds  as  ever 
gave  tongue  on  warm  trail. 

One  Sunday  afternoon,  my  father  knocked  a 
young  wild  cat  from  a  tree  with  a  stone,  and 
thereafter  killed  it.  When  he  came  home  I 
took  the  two  dogs  and  a  pony,  reasoning  that 
where  there  was  one  young  cat  there  ought 
to  be  another,  and  rode  up  the  canon  through 
which  he  had  just  passed.  About  a  mile  up, 
the  dogs  struck  a  cold  trail  which  they  ran 
down  in  about  half  a  mile.  This  run  led  me 
over  the  ridge  into  a  small  valley,  well  hemmed 
in  by  hills. 

Here  the  dogs  circled  about  aimlessly  for 
some  time  and  then,  breaking  through  a  tangle 
of  some  low  shrub,  the  old  white  and  tan 
hound  let  go  the  warning  cry.  The  younger 
dog  took  it  up,  and  in  the  space  of  a  breath 
dogs,  horse  and  I  were  well  up  the  far  side  of 
the  pocket,  going  into  a  bit  of  country  I  had 
never  visited  before,  after  a  game  of  which  I 
had  not  as  yet  had  a  glimpse. 

We  ran  about  a  mile  over  the  hill,  then  along 
the  ridge  another  mile  and  down  the  steep  side 
of  another  canon  into  the  bed  of  a  creek,  al- 
most dry,  but  still  encountering  enough  water 
for  the  animal  ahead  to  run  in.  Here,  of 
course,  the  hounds  lost  their  grip  and  we  spent 
nearly  half  an  hour  ranging  up  and  down  the 
creek,  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  another, 
before  we  found  the  trail  again. 

When  we  did  pick  it,  it  ran  down  first  one 
side  of  the  stream,  then  crossed,  apparently 
at  a  bound,  and  doubled  back  along  the  far 


side  of  the  canon  and  close  up  against  the 
rim  of  the  hills.  Here  we  could  follow  the 
track  easily  and  soon  we  passed  the  place 
where  we  had  first  lost  the  trail.  Above  this 
the  going  became  very  rough  and  we  found  a 
perfect  wilderness  of  small  boulders.  To  one 
of  these  I  tied  the  pony  and  followed  the  dogs, 
now  a  good  distance  ahead,  on  up  the  gorge, 
for  gorge  the  canon  had  now  become. 

When  I  left  the  horse,  I  expected  a  long 
tramp,  mayhap  a  mile,  possibly  five  of  them, 
though  I  knew  that  the  lion,  for  tracks  in  the 
sand  had  long  ago  told  the  identity  of  the 
animal  we  were  following,  was  not  prone  to 
long  runs,  especially  when  picked  up  as  fresh 
as  the  voices  of  the  dogs  said  this  trail  was. 

In  the  midst  of  the  boulders,  however,  the 
trail  crossed  the  stream  again,  and  by  the 
time  I  had  made  my  way  with  no  broken  legs 
to  the  other  side  of  the  creek,  the  dogs  had 
found  the  still  warm  trail  and  were  away  up 
the  canon,  quite  out  of  sight.  Clinging  as 
closely  to  the  creek  bed  as  possible,  I  followed 
the  sound  straight  into  a  little  pocket  at  the 
head  of  the  canon. 

Here,  over  a  low  wall  of  rock,  not  more 
than  twenty  feet  high,  but  sheer  from  the  bot- 
tom of  the  gorge,  the  stream  tumbled,  and 
here,  gathered  around  the  base  of  a  huge 
sycamore,  the  dogs  bayed  the  long,  gray  form 
of  a  lion,  up  among  the  branches. 

Apparently  the  cat,  hard  pressed  at  the  point 
where  the  trail  last  crossed  the  stream,  had 
taken  directly  up  the  creek  bed  instead  of 
keeping  on  across  the  canon  and  had  run  itself 
into  a  pocket,  whence  the  only  escape  was  to 
climb  a  tree,  one  of  the  time  honored  pre- 
rogatives of  his  kind  throughout  the  New 
World. 

With  his  teeth  bared,  and  his  body  arched 
into  almost  a  semicircle,  he  looked  like  noth- 
ing so  much  as  a  huge  red-gray  housecat 
which  had  unwittingly  come  across  the  path 
of  the  hounds  and  been  treed  by  them.  Un- 
fortunately for  the  hunted,  the  top  of  the 
tree  in  which  he  had  taken  refuge,  and  which 
was  the  only  tree  in  the  canon,  was  a  con- 
siderable distance  from  either  side  of  the 
gorge.  Consequently  all  hope  was  cut  off  of 
leaping  to  safety  to  the  top  of  the  ledge.  The 
cliff  itself  was  unscalable  to  anything  not  hav- 
ing wings,  and  while  the  tree  was  easy  for  the 
cat,  he  did  not  like  the  looks  of  the  cliff,  es- 
pecially with  the  snarl  of  the  two  dogs  ringing 
in  his  ears. 


50 


WESTERN  FIELD 


i  weapon  I  had  ■  .38-calibre  revolver, 
hi  in  a  .41  frame,  tingle  action,  the  best  all 
round  kihi  for  horseback  hunting  I  have  ever 
leen.  I  did  not  care  to  climb  the  tree  for  a 
closer  acquaintance  with  the  sharp  claws  of 
the  lion,  now  well  bared  and  sunk  deep  into 
the  bark  on  the  white  sycamore  limb. 

I  am  not  a  Dr.  Carver,  nor  yet  Buffalo  Bill, 
while  Annie  Oakley  quite  outclasses  me,  but 
I  took  three  shots  at  the  cat,  and  at  the  third 
line   brought   him   down   with  a  bullet   through 


.•in-  side  of  his  head,  a  very  fortunate  shot, 
for  he  would  have  cut  two  dogs  up  badly,  if 
he  did  not  kill  them,  had  he  lit  on  the  ground 
in  good  fighting  trim. 

This  was  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  hunts 
of  my  life,  though  it  was  short  and  made  alone, 
the  manner  in  which  most  of  my  hunting  has 
been  done.  Wherefore  none  of  my  kind  friends 
have  ever  punctured  me  by  mistake  for  a  deer 
or  a  bear. 


03r 

CALIFORNIA  THE   LAND 
OF  SUNSHINE 

4 

By  Professor  Alexander  C.  McAdie. 
Forecaster    United    States    Weather    Bureau. 


X  \  State  :i-  large  as  California 
i  nearly  156,000  square  miles) 
one  naturally  expects  to  find 
a  great  diversity  of  climatic 
conditions.  Moreover  the 
State  is  not  one  vast  stretch 
of  level  land  or  even  rolling 
land;  but  a  country  where  the 
mountains  meet  the  sea, 
where  large  inland  valleys, 
almost  States  in  themselves,  are  walled  by 
foot-hills  and  ranges  which  slope  both 
gently  and  abruptly,  where  there  are  large 
desert  tracts  and  many  lofty  peaks,  where 
in  brief  the  movement  of  the  lower  air  may 
be  very  materially  modified  because  of 
these  marked  topographical  features.  It  is 
therefore  somewhat  difficult  to  generalize 
concerning  the  climate  of  California, 
statements  of  certain  extreme  conditions 
will  seem  to  those  who  are  not  familiar 
with  the  orography  of  the  State  to  be 
fanciful  or  exaggerated;  yet  on  the  other 
hand  mean  values,  although  deduced  from 
records  covering  many  years,  fail  to  give 
prominence  to  the  conditions  which  were 
of  most  interest  to  the  community.  The 
departures  from  the  normal  for  a  given  day, 
week  or  season  may  be  so  great  that  com- 
ment is  widespread  concerning  the  unusual 
character  of  the  weather,  and  the  stranger, 
mindful  of  the  data  furnished  him  naturally, 
wonders  if  he   shall  accept  the   statements 


of  the  people  who  dwell  in  the  land.  In 
what  follows  we  shall  try  to  be  as  con- 
servative as  possible  and  discuss  the  usual 
or  normal  conditions  rather  than  the  un- 
usual and  abnormal,  although  fully  aware 
of  the  importance  of  the  latter. 

The  Climate  of  California  is  determined 
by  the  following  factors: 

1.  Intensity  and  duration  of  sunshine,  or 
rather,  solar  energy. 

2.  Proximity  of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  the 
great   natural   conservator  of  heat. 

3.  Prevailing  drift  of  the  lower  air  from 
west  to  east;  and  especially  from  sea  to 
land. 

4.  The  passage  of  storm  areas  to  the  north. 

5.  The  extent,  trend  and  height  of  the 
mountain  ranges  and  their  inclination  to 
the  rain-bearing  winds. 

6.  The  quantity  of  water  vapor  present. 

7.  The  movement  of  the  air  or  general 
wind  system,  andthe  local  air  drainage  as 
determined  by  some  or  all  of  the  above- 
named  factors. 

California  extends  in  a  north  and  south 
direction  a  greater  distance  than  any  other 
State.  Its  mean  length  is  approximately 
eight  hundred  miles.  Naturally  there  will 
be  a  variation  in  the  amount  of  sunshine. 
At  the  northern  end  the  possible  sunshine 
per  day  in  midwinter  would  be  about  the 
same  as  that  at  Boston  if  the  skies  were 
equally  clear,  say  about  nine  hours.    But  in 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


?! 


midsummer  the  amount  would  be  about 
fifteen  hours  per  day.  During  the  year, 
provided  there  were  no  clouds,  the  total 
hours  of  sunshine  would  be  about  4574. 
At  the  southern  end  of  the  State,  which 
would  correspond  to  Charleston,  there 
would  be  ten  hours  per  day  in  midwinter, 
and  fourteen  hours  in  midsummer,  or  dur- 
ing the  year  a  possible  sunshine  of  4428 
hours.  The  actual  amount  of  sunshine 
however  will  vary  largly  with  the  amount 
of  water  vapor  present,  as  this  determines 
the  cloudiness.  Very  few  places  receive  as 
much  as  seventy-five  per  cent  of  the 
possible  sunshine.  If  we  examine  the  list 
of  a  hundred  places  scattered  through  the 
United  States,  given  in  the  Annual  Report 
of  the  Chief  of  the  Weather  Bureau,  we 
find  that  Phoenix,  Arizona,  heads  the  list 
with  3920  hours,  followed  by  Sante  Fe,  N. 
M.,  with  3S5S  hours.  Fresno  had  3365;  Los 
Angeles  3314;  Pueblo  3258;  San  Diego  3232; 
Grand  Junction,  Colo.,  3290;  Pocatello, 
Idaho,  3200;  and  Mount  Tamalpais,  Cali- 
fornia 3199.  Three  of  the  first  nine  then 
are  in  California.  It  is  interesting  to  note 
in  passing  that  while  Mount  Tamalpais 
received  seventy  per  cent  of  the  possible 
sunshine,  San  Francisco — only  fourteen 
miles  away — receives  only  2567  hours,  or 
57  per  cent.  The  explanation  is  found  in 
the  difference  of  elevation,  the  city  being 
but  a  few  feet  above  the  sea  level,  while 
the  mountain  is  about  2600  feet  high.  It  is 
this  difference  in  elevation  that  accounts 
largely  for  the  change  in  climate  within  a 
short  distance,  which  is  so  characteristic  of 
California.  Sunnier,  drier  and  less  windy 
conditions  prevail  as  a  rule  on  the  hills  than 
in  the  low  levels.  The  large  cities  of  Cali- 
fornia are  as  a  rule  not  much  above  sea 
level;  but  they  nearly  all  have  accessible 
hills  or  mountain-sides  close  by ;  and  while 
for  business  considerations  men  must 
dwell  in  the  cities,  their  homes  can  be  made 
where  climatic  conditions  are  even  better. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  considering  the 
higher  levels  only,  California  receives  as 
much  sunshine  as  any  portion  of  the  United 
States. 

The  second  factor  to  be  considered  is  the 
proximity  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Everyone 
who  is  at  all  familiar  with  the  Daily 
Weather    map    will    have    noticed    that    while 


the  isotherms,  or  lines  of  equal  temperature, 
agree  in  a  rough  way  with  the  parallels  of 
latitude  for  the  country  east  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  they  more  nearly  resemble  the 
meridians  of  longitude  along  the  Pacific 
Slope.  There  is  nothing  like  as  much  dif- 
ference between  the  temperatures  of  San 
Diego  and  Eureka,  as  there  is  between 
Charleston  and  Pittsburg.  The  chief  reason 
why  temperatures  are  more  equable  both 
in  winter  and  summer  along  the  California 
coast  is  this:  The  air  moving  as  a  rule 
from  west  to  east  comes  from  the  ocean  to 
the  land.  Thus  California  not  only  receives 
tempered  air  from  the  sea;  but  air  which 
has  also  not  been  warmed  or  chilled  in  its 
passage  over  the  continent.  Incidentally, 
the  Pacific  Coast  receives  the  freshest  of 
air,  as  it  faces  the  on-coming  draft.  One 
might  express  it  by  saying  that  the  coast  is 
farther  up  stream  than  any  other  section  of 
our  country,  and  consequently  has  the  first 
use  of  the  great  east-moving  current  of  air 
which  prevails  in  these  latitudes.  Should 
this  great  stream  ever  flow  permanently  in 
the  other  direction,  then  the  climate  of 
California  would  be  materially  modified  and 
much  less  be  said  about  it  than  is  now  the 
case.  California,  then,  is  well  ventilated  by 
the  great  general  sweep  of  air  from  the 
ocean,  and  the  secondary  strong  drafts  up 
and  down  the  valleys  and  through  the 
gates  and  passes.  It  lacks,  however,  the 
constant  procession  of  "highs"  and  "lows" 
or  eddies  with  right-handed  spins  and  left- 
handed  spins  which  control  to  a  marked 
degree  the  day's  weather  in  other  portions 
of  the  country.  Especially  in  the  summer 
months  when  there  is  a  general  swing 
northward  of  the  mean  storm  paths,  is  this 
noticeable.  California  is  then  left  far  to 
the  south  and  hence  occurs  the  long  period 
of  dry  weather  so  characteristic  of  the 
Southwest.  Occasionally  storms  of  the 
type  known  as  "Sonoras"  swing  slowly 
northwestward  from  the  Mexican  boundary, 
in  which  case  rains  occur  in  the  southern 
portion  of  the  State.  Seasons  also  vary, 
and  while  one  is  reasonably  certain  that  no 
rain  will  fall  from  July  to  September,  there 
will  during  abnormal  seasons  be  rain  in 
these  midsummer  months.  An  illustration 
of  this  occurred  in  September,  1904,  when 
more   than   five   inches    of   rain    fell   at   San 


52 


WESTERN  I  I  ELD 


Francisco,  whereat  in  i  record  covering 
fifty-eight  yean  the  rainfall  for  the  month 
hai  "iil\  three  times  amounted  to  as  much  as 
<>nc  inch.  During  the  winter  month 
arc  infrequent,  and  yet  the  so-called  rainy 
season  must  not  be  understood  to  be  a 
>-c.!M'n  of  incessant  rain.  It  is  in  many  re- 
spects  thr  pies  ant<  I  pi >■  tion  of  the 
the  period  when  the  brown  mantle  of  the 
hills  changes  to  a  green  onej  when  the 
mountains  carry  their  coats  of  snow,  when 
the  freshness  of  spring  is  everywhere  and 
the  southern  winds  arc  soft  and  balmy. 
Tnu'.  there  an-  storms  from  the  Pacific — 
and  storms  which  will  compare  favorably 
in  the  matter  of  wind  velocity  and  heavy 
seas  with  the  best  of  the  Atlantic  or  the 
Gulf  coast  storms.  But  after  these  stiff 
southeaster  are  over  the  air  as  a  rule  is 
remarkably  clear,  the  seeing  or  visibility 
fine  and  the  weather  in  general  ideal.  The 
average  frequency  of  rainy  days  in  the  heart 
of  the  rainy  season  is  about  ten  in  thirty. 
The  consecutive  rainy  days  in  any  Decem- 
ber, January,  or  February,  do  not  exceed 
fourteen.  The  greatest  number  of  rainy 
days  in  any  month  ever  recorded  at  San 
Francisco  was  in  December.  1889,  when  rain 
fell  on  twenty-four  days.  In  the  matter  of 
frequency  this  was  the  rainiest  month  ever 


known.     Here   as   in   other  climatic   condi 

lions  the  mountains  fill  an  important  roll. 
1 1..-  inclination  of  the  ranges  to  the  rain- 
bearing  winds  materially  affects  the  rain- 
fall; and  this  is  partly  the  reason  why  con- 
trasts in  rainfall  within  short  distances  are 
so  marked  in  California;  and  also  the  reason 
why  areas  well  covered  with  forests  and 
areas  practically  treeless  exist  in  one  State. 
In  conclusion,  then,  California  is  a  land  of 
climatic  contrasts;  but  not  contrasts  of 
such  a  character  as  to  jeopardize  health  or 
interfere  seriously  with  outdoor  life.  When 
extremely  high  temperatures  occur  the  ex- 
haustion so  common  elsewhere  does  not 
follow  lure,  because  of  general  dryness 
and  of  the  relief  afforded  by  cool  nights. 
Low  temperatures  are  infrequent,  and  how- 
ever cool  the  nights,  the  days  are  apt  to  be 
bright,  warm  and  pleasant.  Wet  periods 
mean  ample  water  for  the  coming  dry 
period  and  as  intimated  above  have  inter- 
vals of  fine  weather  interspersed.  The  heat 
of  summer  can  be  avoided  by  living  along 
the  coast,  and  those  who  find  the  coast 
climate  too  cool  and  moist  may  in  a  few 
hours  reach  the  dryer,  warmer,  sunnier 
levels  of  the  foothills  and  mountains.  It  is, 
all  in  all,  a  climate  suitable  for  man's  needs, 
health   and    happiness. 


THE  FACIVIC  CO. 1ST  MAGAZINE 


53 


WESTERN  FIELD 

The  Sportsman's  Magazine  of  the  West 


official  organ 

Olympic  Athletic  Club 

and  the    California    Fish  and    Game 

Protective   Associations 


PUBLISHED   MONTHLY   BY 

THE  WESTERN  FIELD  COMPANY 

(incorporated) 
SAN  FRANCISCO.  CAL. 
Offices: 
609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
Registered  at  the  San   Francisco  Postoffice  as  Second- 
Class  Matter 


FRANK  H.  MAYER 


Managing  Editoi 


Matter  for  publication  should  be  addressed  "WEST- 
ERN FIELD,"  609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building, 
San  Francisco,  Cal.,  and  not  to  individuals  connected 
with  the  magazine.  All  copy  for  new  advertisements, 
changes  or  discontinuances,  must  be  in  hand  not  later 
than  the  10th  of  the  month  preceding  date  of  issue,  in 
order  to  insure  attention. 

FOR  A  NON-SALE  LAW. 

In  the  name  of  the  People  of  California  we  de- 
mand at  the  hands  of  onr  Legislature,  at  its  next 
session,  the  enactment  and  embodiment  in  onr  same 
law  of  a  statutory  clanse  prohibiting  the  sale  in 
this  State  of  any  game  bird  of  any  description  what- 
soever, and  fixing  a  commensurate  penalty  for  any 
violation  thereof. 

LICENSE  LAW  IS  POPULAR 

p.  ROM  present  appearances  we  estimate 
'  that  between  forty  to  fifty  thousand 
hunting  licenses  will  be  taken  out  this  year 
in  this  State.  Enthusiastic  advocates  of 
the  license  principle  claim  that  the  number 
will  eventually  reach  at  least  seventy-five 
thousand,  but  the  originators  of  the 
measure  will  be  content  with  even  the 
lowest  figure  of  our  estimate,  that  demand 
alone  fully  proving,  as  we  have  always 
contended,  that  the  pul  lie  will  cheerfully 
subscribe  to  a  reasonable  hunting  tax 
whose  increment  is  properly  applied  to  the 
conservation  and  increase  of  the  game.  If, 
as  we  have  every  reason  to  believe,  quite  a 
number  of  non-resident  and  alien  sports- 
men    will     also     take     out     the     necessary 


licenses,  the  amount  of  money  realized  by 
the  authorities  from  this  tax  will  approxi- 
mate to  fifty  thousand  or  more  dollars  in 
this,  the  first  year  of  its  imposition. 

It  is  as  gratifying  to  note  the  cordial 
and  hearty  support  of  the  measure  by  our 
generous  and  far-seeing  sportsmen  as  it 
is  to  contemplate  the  great  possibilities 
now  evolving  for  the  protection  and  ad- 
vancement of  the  game  by  reason  of  this 
vast  sum  of  money  now  placed  at  the  dis- 
posal of  the  authorities.  Properly  and 
judiciously  expended — and  we  are  fully  sat- 
isfied that  such  will  be  the  case — it  means 
perpetuity  of  our  sport  for  years  to  come. 
Heretofore  the  Fish  Commission  has  been 
badly  handicapped  by  lack  of  funds  neces- 
sary to  the  highest  and  best  fulfillment  of 
its  arduous  and  all  too  little  appreciated 
labors  in  behalf  of  the  sportsmen;  it  takes 
money  to  enforce  laws,  build  hatcheries, 
import  desirable  species  and  a  thousand  and 
one  other  attendant  expenses,  and  hereto- 
fore it  has  had  to  work  on  only  a  beggarly 
appropriation  that  was  altogether  inade- 
quate for  the  purpose.  Now  that  the  Com- 
mission will  be.  supplied  with  the  "sinews 
of  war"  aplenty,  we  confidently  look  for- 
ward to  their  doing  of   great   things. 

But  sportsmen  should  not  expect  too 
much  at  first.  It  takes  time  to  achieve 
results  which  from  conditional  necessity 
must  be  slowly  cumulative.  Perfection  is 
not  attained  in  a  day  or  a  year;  let  us 
contain  our  souls  in  patience  and  give  the 
Fish  Commission  not  only  a  fair  chance 
in  reasonable  time,  but  give  them  our 
hearty,  cordial  and  undivided  support  as 
well.  If  we  all  pull  together  in  good  fel- 
lowship and  harmony — in  true  sportsman- 
ship in  short — California  will  in  ten  years 
become  a  veritable  sportsman's  paradise. 
Let  us  be  slow  to  criticise,  slower  to  con- 
demn, and  slowest  of  all  to  work  at  cross 
purposes  with  the  gentlemen  selected  to  ad- 
vance our  interests.  So,  only,  can  the  best 
results  be  attained,  and  that  is  what  we 
are  all  after. 

For  the  benefit  of  our  readers  Western 
Field  has  secured  a  number  of  license  appli- 
cation blanks  which  will  be  sent  free  of 
charge  to  all  applicants.  Simply  enclose 
two-cent  stamp  for  the  return  postage  and 
they  will  be  forwarded  without  delay. 


WESTERN  FIELD 


v3^%> 


President, 

H.    T.     Payne.     725     Baker    Street.     San     Francisco. 

Vice-Presidents. 

C.   L.   Powell.  Pleasanton:   Dr.   I.  W.   Hays,  Grass 

Valley:  A.  S.  Nichols.  Sierraville;  H.  W.  Keller.  Los 

Angeles,  and  Chase  Littlejohn,  Redwood  City. 

Executive  Committee— C.  W.  Hibbard,  San  Fran- 
cisco; W.  W.  Richards.  Oakland;  A.  M.  Barker.  San 
Jose;  Frank  H.  Mayer,  San  Francisco,  and  J.  H. 
Schumacher,  Los  Angeles. 

Membership  Committee— E.  A.  Mocker.  Capitola; 
W.  C.  Correll,  Riverside,  and  R.  H.  Kelly,  Santa 
Craz. 

Committee    on    Legislation— H.    W.    Keller,    C.    W. 
Hibbard,  J.  B.  Hauer,  A.  R.  Orr.  and  W.  Scott  Way. 
Secretary-Treasurer. 
E.    A.    Mocker.    1316    Hayes    Street. 
County    Associations— Their    Secretaries    and    Ad- 
dresses :  , 

Alameda  County   Fish  and   Game  Protective  Ass  n 
—A.    L.    Henry.    Sec-Treas.,    Livermore,    Cal. 
Alturas— R.  A.   Laird,  Sec.  Alturas,  Cal. 
Angels— Walter    Tryon,    Sec,    Angels    Camp,    Cal. 
Arroyo      Grande—  S.       Clevenger,      Sec,      Arroyo 

Grande.    Cal.  ' 

Auburn— E.  A.    Francis,  Sec,  Auburn,   Cal. 
Boulder  Creek— W.  H.  Aram.  Sec,  Boulder  Creek, 

Cal. 

Audobon    Society    of    California— W.     Scott    Way, 

Sec,  Pasadena,  Cal. 

California  Rod  and  Gun  Club  Association,  316 
Mills   Building,   San   Francisco,    Cal. 

Capitola— E.  A.  Mocker,  Sec,  Capitola,  Cal. 

Chieo, ,  Sec,  Chico,  Cal. 

Cloverdale— C.    H.    Smith,    Sec,    Cloverdale,    CaL 

Colusa— S.  J.   Gilmour,   Sec,   Colusa,   Cal. 

Corning— Mason  Case,  Sec,  Corning,  Cal. 

Covelo—  H.   W.    Schutler,   Sec,   Covelo,   Cal. 

Deer  Creek— Jos.  Mitchell,  Sec,  Hot  Springs,  Cal. 

Fort   Bragg — Thos.    Burns,   Sec,   Fort   Bragg,   Cal. 

Fresno — D.    Dismukes,    Sec,    Fresno,    Cal. 

Grass  Valley— John  Mulroy,  Sec,  Grass  Valley, 
Cal. 

Healdsburg  F.  and  G.  P.  Ass'n— J.  H.  Krnse, 
Secretary,    Healdsburg. 

Hollister— Wm.   Higby,  Sec,  Hollister,   Cal. 

Humboldt— Julius    Janssen,    Sec,    Humboldt,    Cal. 

Jackson— O.    H.    Reichling,    Sec,   Jackson,    Cal. 

Kelseyville—  Chas.  H.   Pugh,  Sec,  Kelseyville,  Cal. 

Kern    County— E.    F.    Pueschel,    Sec,    Bakersfield, 

Kings  County— S.  S.  Mullins,  Sec,  Hanford, 
Cal. 


Lakeport-B.    F.    Mclntyre,    Sec.    Lakeport.    Cal. 

Laytonville— J.   G.    Dill.   Sec,    Laytonville,   Cal. 

Lodi— Greer   McDonald.   Sec,   Lodi.  Cal. 

Lompoc—  W.    R.   Smith.   Sec.   Lompoc,   Cal. 

Los   Angeles— L.   Herzog,   Sec.   Los  Angeles.   Cal. 

Madera— Joe    Bancroft.    Sec,    Madera,    Cal. 

Marysville—  R.     B.     Boyd.    Sec,     Marysville,    Cal. 

Mendocino  City— O.  L.  Stanley,  Sec.  Mendocino 
City.   Cal.  _     . 

Mohawk  V alley  F.  and  G.  P.  Association— Fred 
King.    Sec-Treas.,   Cleo,   Plumas   County. 

Monterey  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
— Ney  Otis,  Sec,  Monterey. 

Napa— W.   West,   Sec,   Napa,  Cal. 

Nevada  City— Fred   C.   Brown,   Sec,   Nevada  City, 

Ocean  Park— L.  Herzog,  Sec,  Ocean  Park,  Cal. 
Oroville — G.    T.    Graham,    Sec,    Oroviile,    Cal. 
Oxnard— Roy  B.  Witman,  Sec,  Oxnard,  Cal. 
Paso    Robles — T.    W.    Henry,    Sec,    Paso    Robles, 
Cal. 

Petaluma— Jos.  Steiger,  Sec,  Petaluma,  Cal. 
Pescadero — C.    J.    Coburn,    Sec,    Pescadero,    Cal. 
Porterville — G.    R.    Lumley.    Sec,    Porterville,    Cal. 
Quincv— T.    F.    Spooner,    Sec,    Quincy,    Cal. 
Red    Bluff— W.    F.    Luning,    Sec,    Red    Bluff.    Cal. 
Redding— Dr.    B.    F.    Belt,    Sec,    Redding,    Cal. 
Redlands — Robert    Leith,    Sec,    Redlands,    Cal. 
Redwood  City — C.   Littlejohn,  Sec,  Redwood  City, 
Cal. 

Riverside — Joe    Shields,    Sec,    Riverside,    Cal. 
San   Andreas — Will  A.   Dower,   Sec,  San   Andreas, 
Cal. 

San  Rafael — H.  E.  Robertson,  Sec,  San  Rafael, 
Cal. 

Santa   Ana— J.   W.    Carlyle.   Sec,   Santa   Ana,   Cal. 
Santa    Barbara— E.    C.    Tallant,    Sec,    Santa    Bar- 
bra,    Cal. 

San  Bernardino — F.  C.  Moore,  Sec,  San  Bernar- 
dino,  Cal. 

Santa   Clara — J.    H.    Faull,    Sec.    San   Jose,    Cal. 
Santa   Cruz— R.    Miller,    Sec.    Santa   Cruz.    Cal. 
San    Diego — A.    D.   Jordan,   Sec,    San    Diego,    Cal. 
San   Francisco   Fly   Casting   Club — F.   W.    Brother- 
ton,   Sec,   29   Wells   Fargo    Building,   San   Francisco, 
Cal. 

Sanger— H.   C.   Coblentz,   Sec,   Sanger,   Cal. 
Santa    Marie — L.    J.    Morris,    Sec,    Santa    Marie, 
Cal. 

Santa  Rosa — Miles  Peerman,  Sec,  Santa  Rosa, 
Cal.  ,    . 

San  Luis  Obispo — C.  A.  Younglove,  Sec,  San  Luis 
Obispo,  Cal. 

Salinas— J.    J.    Kelley,    Sec,    Salinas,    Cal. 
Selma — J.    J.    Vanderburg,    Sec,    Selma,    Cal. 
Sierra — Dr.    S.    H.    Crow,    Sec,    Sierraville,    Cal. 
Sierra   Co.,   F.   and   G.   Association — F.   B.   Sparks, 
Sec,   Loyalton,   Cal. 

Siskiyou — W.    A.   Sharp,   Sec,   Sisson,   Cal. 

Santa  Paula— Dr.  R.  L.  Poplin,  Sec,  Santa  Paula, 

Sacramento  County — A.  Hertzey,  Sec,  Sacramen- 
to,  Cal. 

Sonora— J.    A.    Van   Harlingen,    Sec,    Sonora,    CaL 

Stockton— R.   L.   Quisenberry,   Sec,   Stockton,  Cal. 

Susanville — R.    M.    RanKin,    Sec,    Susanville,    Cal. 

Sutter  Creek — L.  F.  Stinson,  Sec,  Three  Rivers, 
Cal. 

Trackee  River  F.  and  G.  Ass'n — A.  F.  Schlumpf, 
Trackee,    Cal. 

Ukiah— Sam    D.    Paxton,    Sec,    Lkiah,    Cal. 

Vallejo— J.    V.    O'Hara,    Sec,    Vallejo,    Cal. 

Ventura — M.    E.    V.    Bogart,    Sec,    Ventura,    CaL 

Visalia — Thomas    A.    Chaten,    Sec,    Visalia,    Cal. 

Watsonville — Ed    Winkle,    Sec,    Watsonville,    Cal. 

Willits— Chester    Ware,    Sec,    Willits,    Cal. 

Woodland— W.   F.  Huston,  Sec,  Woodland,  Cal. 

West  Berkeley— Charles  Hadlan,  Sec,  West  Ber- 
keley    Cal 

Yreka— F.  E.  Autenreith,  Sec,  Yreka,  Cal. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


55 


ERRATA 

BY  A  mistake  of  the  types  we  were  made  to  say 
that  the  Jew  fish  on  page  103  of  the  July  issue 
was  caught  at  Monterey.  It  was  caught  in 
Carmel  Bay  off  Carmelo-by-the-Sea.  And  the  old 
Mission  Carmelo  is  at  the  same  place  instead  of  at 
Monterey.  The  photo  of  the  ribbon  fish  on  page  400 
is  also  copyrighted  and  cannot  be  reproduced  without 
permission   of  the   photographer,    Mr.   J.    K.    Oliver. 

SANTA  CLARA  COUNTY  GAME  AND 
FISH  PROTECTIVE  ASSOCIATION 


Protect 
he    largest    ; 


County     Ga: 

Association, 

most    active 

county      associations 

held    its    annual    outir 

Rock  Park,  San  Jose,   i 


Sun- 
le  23.  The  day's  entertain- 
nsisted  of  trap  shooting,  en- 
n  by  nearly  all  present,  a 
barbecue,  upon  ^which  all 
o  satiety,  and  speaking  by  a 
of  prominent  sportsmen  from 
rious  parts  of  the  State. 

Early  in  the  day  the  Alum  Rock  cars  began  to 
ive  the  city  of  San  Jose  packed  to  the  running 
lile  swift-going  automobiles 
direction  well  filled  with 
the  State  Association  and 
even    as    far    away    as    Los 


boards  with  sportsmen 
were  taking  the  san 
officers  and  guests  fn 
many  local  associatioi 
Angeles. 

Of  course,  the  barbecuing  of  the  choicest  portions 
of  the  beeves  and  sheep  was  commenced,  under  the 
supervision  of  County  Game  Warden  Kopple,  at  an 
early  hour,  and  upon  the  arrival  of  the  guests  had 
already  filled  the  air  of  the  grove  with  their  appe- 
tizing aroma.  The  traps,  located  at  the  edge  of  the 
spreading  trees  that  align  the  ccarse  of  Penitencia 
Creek,  had  been  planted  at  an  early  hour,  and  were 
found  in  readiness  for  the  sport  of  the  day  on  the 
arrival  of  the  first  participants.  The  traps  were  ex- 
cellently situated,  facing  the  northwest,  and  giving 
the  shooter  a  clear  view  across  the  broad  stretches 
of  the  Santa  Clara  Valley,  with  a  cloudless  sky  for  a 
background. 

The  shooting  commenced  early,  and  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  cessation  for  dinner,  and  during  the 
speaking,    continued    until    a    late    hour.      Of   the   two 


"Namaycush"  Trout 

Caught  by  VV.  \V.  Fay  in  Twin  Lakes,  Colorado 

Length  39!  i  Inches.  Weight  20&  Pounds 


56 


WESTF.RN  FIELD 


hundred    or    more    members    of    the    association    and 

if   not   <|intc  half  smashed,   or 

tu  sina--h  the  elusive  lilucrock.     Among  the 

.  hot  pace  to  thi 

the  president  ition. 

The 

"There  would  be  plenty  to  drink  as  Pcnitencia  Creek 
eleee  by;"    but   from   the   abundant   supply   of 
cool  and  refreshing  beverages  liberally  dispensed  from 
beneath    the    shade    of    numerous    trees,    it    is    not    a 
hazardous    assertion    to    say    that    Pcnitencia    Creek 
reached   its  mouth  with   no  serious  diminution   in    its 
n    is   it   any   more  venturesome  to  remark   that 
from   the   abundance  of  meats   and   fishes,   barbecued 
in    Kopple-esque   perfection,    and    other    gourmand-de- 
veloping concomitants,   that    there  were  many   vacant 
chairs   at    the    supper   tables   on    that    memoral 
while   those   whom   formality   compelled   to  take  their 
it    the    head    of   the   table,    performed    only    a 
prrfucntory  part. 

When  the  feasting  was  over,  Dr.  Barker,  in  a  few 
well-chosen  words,  welcomed  the  guests  in  the  name 
of  the  association  of  which  he  has  been  the  presi- 
dent from  the  time  to  which  the  memory  of  man 
runneth  not  to  the  contrary ;  after  which  he  called 
upon  II.  T.  Payne,  the  president  of  the  California 
Game  and  Fish  Protective  Association,  to  respond  to 
the  sentiment,  "The  Past  and  the  Future  of  the 
State  Association."  Mr.  Payne  spoke  at  some  length, 
reciting  the  achievements  of  the  State  Association 
in  securing  the  passage  of  every  good  clause  on  the 
statute  books  enacted  in  the  interest  of  game  pre- 
servation, showing  when  and  how  it  had  initiated 
every  move  for  the  better  preservation  of  our  game 
and  fish,  from  the  prohibition  of  the  sale  of  quail 
and  the  passage  of  the  first  bag  limit  clause,  down 
to  the  enactment  of  the  license  law  passed  by  the 
last  Legislature.  He  reviewed  the  unnatural  oppo- 
sition the  association  had  had  to  contend  with  and 
expressed  a  strong  hope  in  the  better  judgment  and 
firmer  spinal  column  of  the  new  members  of  the  State 
Board  of  Fish  Commissioners,  and  in  the  true  sports- 
manship of  Governor  Gillett. 

He  called  attention  to  the  constant  increase  in 
the  county  association  and  individual  membership  of 
the  parent  organization,  and  the  marked  and  ever 
increasing  interest  in  and  attendance  at  the  annual 
meetings  of  the  State  association,  as  predicating  a 
future  replete  with  more  active  work  and  crowned 
with  greater  achievements  in  the  line  of  game  pre- 
servation, than  had  marked  the  splendid  history  of 
its  past.  The  campaign  of  education,  inaugurated 
at  its  organization,  he  said,  had  convinced  the  whole 
people  of  the  necessity  of  the  work  in  which  it  was 
engaged,  and  the  justice  of  every  law  which  it  had 
advocated  and  secured  the  enactment  of.  The  seeds 
it  had  sown  were  bearing  an  increased  harvest  every 
year,  ever  multiplying  the  ranks  of  the  true  game 
protectionists,  ever  increasing  the  strength  of  the 
local  and  State  associations,  and  making  for  greater 
influence  and  greater  benefits  with  each  coming 
year. 

Mr.  Payne's  address  was  followed  by  short 
speeches  from  H.  C.  Hall  of  Corte  Madera;  Chas. 
M.  Shortridge,  of  San  Jose ;  Supervisor  Wyman,  of 
Santa  Cruz  County;  H.  A.  Green,  of  Monterey; 
E.    A.    Mocker,    secretary    of    the    State    association ; 


Warden    Welsh,    of    Santa    Cruz,    and    others; 
all   of  whom  had   many   words  of  praise  for  the  good 
ciation    and   pledged   their   re- 
liance    of    their     best 
;  i,i    the    laws    of    California    were    placed 
of    those    of    othei    States,    and    until    those 
sreover,    conscientiously    enforced    by 
,  lent   officers. 
The  Santa  Clara  County  Association  now  unmbcrs 
almost    500    members    and    is    one    of    the    most    ag- 
,,,,1  enthusiastic  organizations  on  the  Pacific 
Coast. 


PARADISE  FOR  SPORTSMEN 

By   AUGUST   WOLF. 

OMK  with  me  this  glorious  morning 
and  let  us  while  the  hours  away  in 
the  wilds  of  Okanogan  county  in 
the  State  of  Washington.  The 
country  is  mountainous  and  sparsely 
settled  and  means  a  journey  of  two 
days  from  Spokane,  but  it  is  worth 
the  time  to  the  man  with  a  knowl- 
edge of  woodcraft  and  an  ambition 
to  "get"  big  game,  and  fish  so  un- 
educated to  the  artificial  fly  that 
they  insist  on  "biting"  on  any  bait, 
however  unskillfully  handled. 

Starting  from  Spokane,  we  make  the  trip  on  one 
of  "Jim"  Hill's  trains  in  twelve  hours  to  Wenatchee, 
called  "the  home  of  the  big  red  apple,"  and  there 
we  take  passage  on  a  Columbia  river  steamer  to 
Brewster,  a  matter  of  fourteen  hours.  The  sail  af- 
fords a  panorama  of  scenic  beauty  from  beginning  to 
landing  place,  where  we  "stage  it"  to  the  upper 
country,  Conconully,  Loomis,  Okanogan,  Twisp  or 
Oroville,  the  largest  of  the  scattered  settlements. 
There  are  few  roads  and  only  steep  trails  lead  into 
the  hills.  For  that  reason  our  trip  is  made  on  horse- 
back and  the  baggage  and  provisions  are  limited  to 
what  can  be  carried  in  a  pack,  but  we  are  willing  to 
rough  it. 

Of  course,  we  need  a  guide.  He  is  as  necessary 
as  the  horses  and  arms  and  blankets.  At  Spokane 
we  are  told  that  city  sportsmen  who  desire  a  pleas- 
ant vacation,  away  from  the  hurry  and  grind  of 
commercialism  and  the  accompanying  financial  in- 
sanity, should  carry  nothing  store  new  in  their  pos- 
session, and  that  corduroy  shooting  outfits  without 
wrinkles  or  rents,  too  large  hunting  knives  worn 
conspicuously,  or  any  article  of  dress  that  could 
cause  attention  had  better  be  left  behind.  The 
Okanoganite,  simplicity  personified,  despises  affec- 
tation and  shows  his  contempt  in  ways  made  old  by 
western  use.  It  sounded  like  a  good  "tip,"  and  we 
went  in  with  well  worn  khaki  and  old  blankets. 

The  district  is  mountainous  and  in  the  numerous 
snow-fed  streams  of  clear  pine  water  are  fish  that 
gladden  the  heart  of.  the  wide  traveled  sportsmen, 
while  they  fill  the  eyes  of  the  novice  with  wonder. 
The  country  is  thinly  settled  and  the  residents  occu- 
pied on  the  ranches  and  in  the  orchards,  have  little 
time  to  dally  with  an  angling  rod  and  leave  the  pur- 
suit of  the  finny  tribe  to  the  occasional  traveler, 
willing  to  brave  a  long  trip  for  the  sake  of  a  few 
days'   uninterrupted  sport. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


57 


The  country  offers  inducements  not  only  to  th; 
angler,  but  to  the  hunter  as  well.  The  Washing- 
ton forest  reserve  borders  the  mountain  boundaries 
of  the  county  and  the  woods  are  alive  with  game 
that  lias  fled  from  the  more  hunted  districts  to  the 
pi  ace  and  quiet  of  the  Okanogan  woods.  Deer  can 
be  found  at  any  season  of  the  year,  and  except  for 
tho  occasional  camper,  are  hunted  only  by  the  In- 
dians, who  kill  the  animals  for  their  hides.  Bears 
haunt  the  mountains  and  are  unmolested,  except 
when  they  descend  to  the  outlying  farm  houses  and 
carry  off  a  stray  calf  or  sheep  that  has  wandered 
from  the  fold.  Grouse  and  pheasants  are  more 
plentiful  than  in  any  other  section.  The  drumming 
of  the  cock  pheasant  may  be  heard  all  summer  long, 
even  along  the  woods  bordering  the  main  traveled 
roads  and  a  mile  from  any  of  the  small  settlements 
the  hoot  of  the  male  grouse  is  not  wanting. 

The  man  "behind  the  gun"  can  find  no  better 
place.  Every  little  while  bear  hunts  are  organized 
by  the  farmers  against  the  black  and  cinnamon 
bears  that  make  the  grazing  of  unprotected  stock 
risky.  In  the  mountains  back  of  Pogue,  Loomis, 
Conconully  and  Twisp  bears  may  be  had  at  any 
time  for  the  hunting.  On  the  Colville  reservation, 
known  as  the  South  Half,  bears  are  even  more  numer- 
ous and  show  themselves  without  fear. 

Typical  frontiersmen  predominate  among  the  resi- 
dents of  the  county,  and  many  of  them  have  never 
been  a  hundred  miles  away  from  their  homes.  They 
are  rough,  but  kindly.  A  trip  to  this  district  is  to 
live  a  chapter  of  life  that  has  passed  and  will  never 
come  again  in  the  settled  regions.  Men  wear  the 
broad  soft  hats  of  the  cowpuncher,  also  "chaps,"  and 
the  younger  men  affect  a  "44"  worn  in  a  holster  on 
the  left  hip.  Indians  visit  the  settlements  to  sell 
articles  of  their  jwn  manufacture,  and  they,  as  well 
as  the  white  men,  are  ready  to  "bust"  a  cayuse  for 
the  amusement  of  a  "tenderfoot"  if  a  dollar  or  two 
is  forthcoming  at  the  end  of  the  work. 

The  real  pleasure  and  sport  of  a  week  or  two  in 
the  Okanogan  country  is  worth  a  trip  across  the 
continent. 


HUNTERS'   LICENSES 

AS  IT  is  now  imperative  to  obtain  a  hunting 
license  in  this  State,  we  beg  to  advise  our 
readers  to  secure  their  license  and  tag  without 
delay.  These  license  tags  can  be  secured  from  any 
County  Clerk  or  Deputy  Fish  Commissioner  in  the 
State. 

For  the  convenience  of  those  residing  at  a  distance 
from  a  county  seat,  and  to  save  them  time  and  ex- 
pense, the  Fish  Commission  has  had  prepared  hunters' 
application  blanks,  which  may  be  obtained  by  ad- 
dressing a  request  for  the  same  to  the  County  Clerk 
of  one's  county,  or  to  the  Fish  Commission  at  San 
Francisco.  On  receipt  of  the  application  properly 
filled  out,  enclosing  money  order,  the  hunters'  license 
will  be  promptly  forwarded  to  the  desired  address. 

Residents  of  the  State  who  are  citizens,  or  who 
have  legally  declared  their  intention  of  becoming 
such,  will  be  taxed  $1  per  annum.  Citizens  of  the 
United  States,  not  residing  in  California,  will  be 
taxed  $10;  and  persons  not  citizens  of  the  United 
States  (aliens)  must  pay  $25  per  annum.  This  law 
does  not  apply  to  those  who  hunt  only  on  their 
own  land. 


While  the  law  says  that  such  license  fees  must  be 
paid  by  every  person  who  hunts,  pursues  or  kills  any 
of  the  wild  birds  and  "animals"  protected  by  statute, 
there  is  some  doubt  as  to  whether  a  license  must  be 
taken  out  by  those  who  take  fish  only.  It  is  our 
opinion,  however,  despite  the  fact  that  a  fish  is  an 
"animal,"  that  the  statute  was  not  meant  to  apply  to 
fish.  Better  be  on  the  safe  side  and  take  out  the 
license   anyway. 


THE  S.  C.  I.  TUNA  CLUB 

AT  A  recent  meeting  of  the  Santa  Catalina  Island 
Tuna  Club,  held  at  Avalon,  California,  the  fol- 
lowing officers  were  elected :  President,  Charles 
Frederick  Holder;  first  vice-president,  Thomas  S. 
Manning;  second  vice-president,  C.  P.  Morehous ; 
third  vice-president,  \Vm.  H.  Burnham ;  recording 
secretary,  L.  P.  Streeter;  corresponding  secretary, 
F.   L.  Harding. 

These  gentlemen,  with  Messrs.  Thomas  McD. 
Potter  and  Alfred  L.  Beebe,  comprise  the  board  of 
directors.  The  club  has  fifty-five  active  members, 
and  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  associate  members 
The  honorary  membership  includes  such  anglers  as 
Theodore  Roosevelt,  Grover  Cleveland,  Henry  Van 
Dyke,   Charles  Hallock,  etc. 

Members  throughout  the  country  wishing  infor- 
mation concerning  club  matters  should  address  the 
corresponding  secretary  at  512  Arcade  Building, 
Philadelphia,   Pa. 


THAT  BRITISH  COLUMBIA  GAME 
RESERVE 

AT  THE  last  session  of  the  parliament  of  British 
Columbia,  none  of  the  various  game-protection 
measures  before  that  body  were  acted  upon. 
The  Executive  Council  of  the  government  took  up 
the  Hornaday-Phillips  recommendation  for  a  game 
and  forest  reserve  betwen  the  Elk  and  Bull  Rivers, 
and  referred  it  to  the  Provincial  Game  Warden  for 
examination  and  report;  but  before  action  could  be 
taken,  Premier  McBride  found  it  necessary  to  leave 
suddenly  for  England,  on  official  business,  and  a 
decision   was  postponed. 

Sportsmen  who  were  in  a  position  to  judge  of  the 
situation  have  reported  that  throughout  British 
Columbia  the  necessity  for  a  game  sanctuary  in  the 
Kootenay  District  is  now  conceded,  and  the  only 
serious  question  seems  to  be  regarding  the  best  loca- 
tion. The  eastern  advocates  of  "Goat  Mountain 
Park"  have  been  assured  that  the  greater  portion  of 
that  area  is  likely  to  be  reserved,  and  the  whole  of  it 
may  be  if  investigation  establishes  all  that  is  claimed 
for  it. 

After  his  trip  last  September  from  Phillips'  Peak 
to  Monro  Lake  and  back,  Mr.  Phillips  estimated  that 
the  proposed  Goat  Mountain  Park  now  contains  1000 
goats,  200  sheep,  50  bears,  many  deer,  and  a  few 
elk.  To  some  persons  who  have  not  themselves  been 
in  that  country,  the  estimated  number  of  sheep 
seemed  incredible;  but  in  view  of  the  fact  that  Mr. 
Phillips  has  spent  six  seasons  in  that  region,  and  has 
given  careful  thought  to  the  matter,  his  estimate  of 
the  abundance  of  game  may  safely  be  regarded  as 
absolutely  reliable.  In  view  of  the  fact  that  in  1905 
his  party  actually  counted,,  in  the  area  of  less  than 


58 


WESTERX  FIELD 


"5  square  miles,  239  goats,  his  estimate  of  1000  for 
the  whole  450  aquare  miles  docs  not  seem  like  an 
impossible  number. 

unfortunately  fur  Immediate  results  regard- 
H  Mountain  Park,"  no  sooner  had  Dr.  11m 
naday  and  Mr.  Phllllpa  begun  their  campaign  in  be- 
half of  their  ideal  territory  than  other  persons  began 
to  come  forward  with  all  sorts  of  proposals  for  mak- 
ing the  preserve  "farther  north,"  or  "farther  c 
"up  to  the  main  line  of  the  C.  P.  R.",  or  any  old 
place  -ave  the  country  that  is  most  abundantly 
stocked  with  wild  animals.  Some  of  the  ideas  pressed 
forward,— for  example,  that  for  making  the 
far  up  against  the  Alberta  boundary,  where  there  is 
certainly  very  little  game  of  any  kind, — were  almost 
absurd.  The  last  recommendation,  to  make  the  re- 
serve wholly  north  of  White  River,  in  country  that 
has  been  "cleaned  out"  of  game  by  the  Stoney  In- 
dians, and  is  almost  barren  of  sheep,  is  the  worst  of 
all. 

Throughout  all  this  discussion  of  other  localities, 
Messrs.  Phillips  and  Hornaday  have  resolutely  stood 
by  their  original  proposition,  and  refused  to  budge 
from  it  one  inch.  They  have  said,  over  and  over, 
"No  matter  how  many  game  preserves  arc  made  else- 
where,   Goat    Mountain    Park    is   too    fine    to   be    de- 


stroyed; and  it  must  and  shall  be  preserved!  Make 
the  game  preserve  any  size,  any  shape,  or  anywhere 
th.it  you  please,  provided  the  whole  of  that  region 
is  in  it  1"  Tiny  h;ive  a->kcd  the  Provincial  Game  War- 
den to  go  through  it  from  end  to  end,  and  see  its 
game  for  himself;  and  it  is  hoped  that  he  will  be 
able  to  do  so  before  the  next  session  of  parliament. 

It  is  the  expectation  of  some  Victoria  sportsmen 
who  arc  in  a  position  to  know  the  trend  of  possi- 
bilities, that  next  winter  the  government  of  British 
Columbia  will  appoint  a  commission  to  select  a  loca- 
tion, and  define  boundaries,  for  a  game  reserve 
somewhere  in  the  region  between  the  Kootenay  River 
and  the  Alberta  boundary. 

This  idea  does  not  greatly  please  the  champions  of 
Goat  Mountain  Park.  They  fear  that  if  that  plan  is 
carried  into  effect,  the  reservation  may  possibly  be 
located  according  to  the  preponderance  of  local  "in- 
fluence;" and  in  that  event,  the  finest  game  country 
in  the  whole  of  British  Columbia  may  get  lost  in  the 
shuffle. 

At  all  events,  American  sportsmen,  and  all  others 
who  desire  the  perpetual  preservation  of  the  moun- 
tain goat,  sheep  and  grizzly  bear,  will  watch  with 
keen  interest  to  see  what  British  Columbia  will  do 
next   winter  about   Goat  Mountain   Park. 


•  •• 


GRAND   AMERICAN    HANDICAP 


HE  eighth  annual  Grand  American 
Handicap  has  passed  into  history. 
This  great  event  in  the  trap  shooting 
world  was  held  on  the  grounds  of 
the  Chicago  Gun  Club,  located  sev- 
eral miles  south  of  the  city,  on  Tune 
ISth  to  21st,  and  was  the  most  suc- 
cessful ever  given  by  the  Interstate 
Association.  It  was  also  the  largest 
event  of  the  kind  ever  held  in  any 
part  of  the  world,  495  shooters  being 
entered  in  the  principal  Handicap, 
and  459  taking  their  places  on  the  firing  line. 

Mr.  Elmer  E.  Shaner,  secret ary-manager  of  the 
association,  had  charge  of  the  tournament  as  usual, 
and  once  more  demonstrated  his  ability  to  handle 
a  big  crowd  of  shooters  and  pull  things  off  on 
schedule  time  without  a  hitch.  The  events  were 
shot  over  two  Leggett  traps  at  Nos.  1  and  2,  and 
Dickey  traps  at  Nos.  3,  4  and  5. 

Mr.  Fred  Whitney,  of  Des  Moines,  was  in  his 
usual  place  as  cashier,  and  handled  the  financial 
end  of  the  tournament  accurately  and  promptly. 

The  compiler  of  scores,  Mr.  J.  K.  Starr,  of  Phila- 
delphia, and  Mr.  Shaner,  of  Pittsburg,  are  well 
known  as  experts  in  this  line  of  work  and  nothing 
happened  here  to  detract  from  the  records  they 
have  made.  Besides  the  above  there  were  clerks 
and  others  engaged  on  the  various  details  of  th 
work  of  the  shoot,  the  total  number  employed  in 
Mr.  Shaner's  department  being  fifty.  Altogether 
there  were  over  one  hundred  men  employed  during 
the  shoot,  all  necessary,  and  all  busy  every  minute  of 
the  four  days. 

The  club  erected  a  handsome  club  house,  a  build- 
ing   containing    over    300    of    the    latest    design    steel 


lockers,  and  a  six-room  cottage  for  the  superin- 
tendent, Mr.  F.  H.  Teeple,  the  three  forming  a 
group  near  the  entrance  to  the  grounds.  The 
grounds  are  in  fine  shape  and  besides  the  five  trap 
pits,  there  is  a  revolver  range  of  fifty  yards  and  a 
rifle  range  of  seventy-five  yards  in  the  south  cor- 
ner. Last  December  not  a  stroke  of  work  had  been 
done  to  put  things  in  shape",  and  the  club  has  cer- 
tainly shown  very  commendable  enterprise  to  have 
the  place  ready  for  such  an  event  as  the  G.   A.  H. 

As  early  as  Sunday  night  the  shooters  began  to 
be  very  much  in  evidence  at  the  various  hotels,  and 
on  Monday,  which  was  designated  as  in  the  pro- 
gramme as  practice  day,  over  150  men  took  part  in 
the  five  20-target  events.  Fred  Gilbert,  the  well- 
known  expert,  was  high  (gun  with  9$ ;  breaking  the 
first  60  straight.  \Y.  H.  Heer,  W.  S.  Spencer,  Ray  Pos- 
ton,  S.  A.  Huntley,  and  Neaf  Apgar  came  second  with 
97  each.  More  shooters  arrived  on  Monday  morning 
and  got  into  a  game  in  the  afternoon  .  and  over  200 
shot  at  the  100  targets  on  the  programme.  The  wind, 
which  interfered  with  the  shooters  in  the  morning, 
had  gone  down  and  conditions  were  more  favorable, 
the  scores  were,  therefore,  better.  C.  M.  Powers 
and  Ed.  O'Brien  tied  for  high  gun  on  99,  the  for- 
mer making  a  run  of  97  straight  and  the  latter 
nearly  equalling  that  record.  Chris  Gottleib,  T.  M. 
Hawkins,  F.  M.  Faurotte,  J.  R.  Taylor  and  Poston 
coming  second  with  98  each.  For  the  day  Gilbert 
and  Poston  were  high  men  with  195  each.  W.  H. 
Heer  second   with    193. 

The  regular  programme  began  on  Tuesday,  345 
men  facing  the  traps.  The  professionals  shot  for 
targets  and  high  scores  while  the  amateurs  were 
after  the  money  and  as  much  glory  as  possible.  The 
weather     was     fine     but     a     little     too     hot     for     the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


59 


strenuous  sport  of  shooting.  The  shoot  developed 
several  matches  for  supremacy  between  some  of  the 
men.  Early  in  the  day  L.  I.  Wade,  of  Dallas,  Texas, 
was  not  thought  much  of  as  he  missed  one  in  his 
first  20,  and  as  many  others  went  out  with  19,  and 
several  had  broken  straight,  he  was  forgotten.  At 
the  end  of  the  third  round  W.  D.  Stannard  had 
broken  straight  while  Lee  Barkley  missed  his  six- 
tieth target.  Then  Stannard  missed  two  in  the  fourth 
20,  got  the  last  20  straight  and  finished  with  98. 
Barkley  missed  no  more  and  scored  a  total  of  99. 
While  Wade  seemed  to  have  been  forgotten  he  kept 
pegging  away  and  got  all  of  the  last  80  targets  tieing 
with  Barkley  on  99.  W.  H.  Heer  and  L.  J.  Squier 
each  got  98  and  shared  second  place  honors  with 
Stannard,  among  the  professionals.  J.  R.  Taylor, 
H.  E.  Poston,  G.  Maxwell,  Tom  Marshall,  W.  B. 
Darton,  W.  R.  Crosby,  and  Frank  Reihl  each 
scored  97.  H.  W.  Kaler,  H.  W.  Cadwallader,  N. 
Apgar  and  H.  C.  Hirschy,  96  each.  Among  the 
amateurs  C.  D.  Lindeman,  Geo.  Volk  and  J.  A. 
Flick  tied  for  first  place  on  98;  R.  Klein  and  T.  H. 
Clay  were  second  with  97  each;  Guy  Deering,  B.  F. 
Elbert,  Ed.  Cain,  C.  M.  Powers,  J.  M.  Collins,  G. 
Miller,  D.  A.  Upson,  96  each.  Ninety-one  others 
scored  from  90  to  95  each.  R.  R.  Barber,  winner  of 
the  G.  A.  H.  in  1905,  was  not  in  good  form  and 
went  out  with  only  90  to  his  credit.  F.  E.  Rogers, 
the  winner  of  the  big  event  last  year  at  Indian- 
apolis, could  not  seem  to  find  the  targets,  as  he 
missed  nine  out  of  the  100.  Fred  Gilbert,  one  of 
the  best  shots  in  the  world,  managed  to  break  only 
93.  Ed.  O'Brien,  who  broke  99  on  the  day  pre- 
vious, allowed  five  to  get  away  from  him  and  scored 
95  today. 

J.  A.  Flick,  of  Ravenna,  Ohio,  is  a  one-armed 
shooter.  He  has  only  a  stump  remaining  of  his  left 
arm  with  which  he  steadies  his  gun.  He  is  a  veteran 
at  the  game  and  last  year  at  Canal  Dover,  Ohio, 
made  the  record  amateur  straight  run,  240  straight 
breaks.  George  Maxwell,  of  Hastings,  Neb.,  has 
not  even  the  stump  of  his  left  arm  remaining  and 
does  all  his  loading  and  firing  with  one  hand.  He 
was  in  the  third  place  today  with  97,  a  score  that 
many    a   two-armed   man   would   like   to   equal. 

Many  ladies  attended  the  shoot  and  the  grounds 
were  well  crowded  all  day.  Mrs.  C.  C.  Crossman, 
an  expert  amateur  shot,  and  the  holder  of  a  number 
trophies  won  at  revolver  shooting,  watched  the  sport 
with  her  husband,  having  come  on  from  their  home 
in  St.  Louis  for  that  purpose. 

Harry  C.  Marshall,  of  Newton,  Ills.,  a  13-year-old 
boy,  had  a  slight  attack  of  stage  fright  and  dropped 
11  out  of  his  first  20,  but  steadied  down  after  that 
and  went  out  with  78. 

The  day's  shooting  was  finished  about  6  o'clock, 
and  the  men  returned  to  the  city  for  a  night's  rest 
before  going  in  for  the  Preliminary  Handicap  on 
Wednesday. 

l*he  second  day  was  cloudy  and  cool,  a  much 
more  comfortable  day  than  Tuesday.  There  was  a 
light  wind  which  did  not  interfere  with  the  targets 
though  it  blew  the  smoke  in  the  faces  of  the  shooters 
and  bothered  them  quite  a  little  during  the  fore- 
noon. A  number  of  new  shooters  were  on  hand  and 
there  were  36S  entries  in  the  Preliminary,  each 
shooter  standing  at  his  handicap  distance  which  will 
be  the  same  in  the  big  event.  The  difference  of  from 
one  to  five  yards  in  distance  from  the  traps  caused  the 


scores  to  be  lowered  not  a  little  in  many  cases. 
None  of  the  experts  came  up  to  the  expectation  of 
the  spectators  except  Barkley,  who  was  high  gun 
with  97,  shooting  from  21  yards.  As  he  is  in  the 
professional  ranks  he  was  not  eligible  to  win  the 
trophy,  and  it  went  to  G.  S.  Lyon,  (19  yards),  on  a 
score  of  96.  He  won  the  race  under  adverse  cir- 
cumstances. In  his  last  20  it  was  necessary  for 
him  to  break  straight,  and  he  drew  a  series  of  hard 
targets,  but  succeeded  in  scoring  all  of  them.  He 
is  the  grandson  of  the  founder  of  the  American 
Tobacco  Co.,  Washington  Duke,  and  is  known  to 
the  shooters  by  the  names  of  "Duke's  Mixture",  and 
"Bull  Durham",  the  last  from  the  town  in  which 
he  lives,  Durham,  N.  C.  Other  high  guns  were 
J.  R.  Graham  and  T.  Graham,  95  each;  the  first 
shooting  from  19  yards  and  the  latter  from  16. 
M.  C.  Bolton  (18),  94;  Geo.  Volk  (19),  J.  H.  Clay, 
Jr.  (19),  W.  W.  Wise  (17),  93;  C.  E.  Binyon  (18), 
and  C.   M.   Powers   (20),  93  each. 

The  team  match  followed  immediately  at  the 
close  "of  the  Preliminary.  There  were  nine  five-man 
teams  entered  representing  six  states,  100  targets 
per  man.  The  match  was  concluded  about  seven 
o'clock,  and  the  Illinois  team  was  the  winner;  J. 
Young,  95  ;].  Graham,  95;  Bert  Dunnill,  93;  Harry 
Dunnill,  87;  H.  Clark,  88;  total  458.  Illinois  team 
No.  2  was  second  with  a  total  of  456. 

The  purse  in  the  ^Preliminary  amounted  to  $1495. 
Of  this  Lyon  received  $149.50,  in  addition  to  the 
trophy;  second  money  $134.55;  third,  $119.60; 
fourth  $104.65;  fifth,  $S9.70 ;  sixth,  $74.75;  seventh, 
$59.80;  eighth,  $44.85;  ninth  to  fourteenth,  $29.90 
each;  fifteenth  to  fiftieth,  $14.95   each. 

The  winning  team  received  $135,  and  each  member 
also  received  a  cut  glass  ink  well  with  silver  top, 
presented  by  the  Association  as  a  trophy.  Second 
team  received  $90. 

Thursday,  the  third  and  the  big  day  of  the  shoot, 
was  pleasant  but  uncomfortably  hot.  A  trip  down 
the  line  of  traps  was  a  hard  test  of  the  endurance 
of  the  men,  and  they  hunted  shady  spots  and  cool 
drinks   as   soon   as  they   finished   the  journey. 

It  seemed  that  the  city  was  just  beginning  to 
take  notice  that  something  of  importance  and  inter- 
est in  the  world  of  sports  was  being  pulled  off,  and 
the  attendance  was  a  vast  improvement  over  that  of 
the  two  previous  days.  There  were  between  three 
and  four  thousand  people  on  the  grounds,  fully  one- 
half  of  them  being  ladies. 

The  Grand  American  had  495  entries  and  459 
starters,  the  biggest  thing  of  the  kind  that  ever 
happened.  Shooting  was  kept  up  without  interrup- 
tion until  seven  o'clock,  but  it  was  found  impossible 
to  finish  and  a  number  of  squads  were  held  over 
for  the  next  day.  At  the  close  of  the  shooting  it 
was  found  that  three  men,  C.  M.  Powers,  M.  J. 
Maryott  and  J.  J.  Blanks  were  tied  on  96  for  high, 
with  T.  Graham,  of  Long  Lake,  Ills.,  and  Lem. 
Willard,  of  Chicago,  having  a  chance  to  get  in  the 
tie  by  breaking  straight. 

Powers  had  the  matter  in  his  hands  apparently, 
and  was  expected  to  go  out  with  99,  judging  by  the 
way  he  had  been  shooting.  He  got  the  first  40 
straight,  lost  one  in  the*  next  20,  and  finished  the 
fourth  round  with  a  total  of  79.  In  the  last  round, 
however,  he  got  some  hard  ones  and  missed  his 
third  target  and  then  two  more  in  succession,  and 
finished    in    the    tie.      Blanks    has    always    been    reck- 


WESTERN  FIELD 


oned    as    an    SO   per    cent    shot    and    his    work    in    this 
event    was    a    surprise.       Second    place    boooi 

m.   i  .   Boltoi 
efarist,    UK..    11  ix,    tils., 

with    95    each.       P.    E.    PoItX,    E.    N.    Gregg,    11      1 
.   nd   B.    H.    Black.  94  each. 

Friday  was  another  hot  day,  the  worst  of  the 
week.  In  other  respects  it  was  ideal  weather  for 
The  finish  of  the  G.  A.  II.  w.is  the  first 
thing  on  the  program  and  shooting  was  begun  soon 
after  9  o'clock.  T.  Graham  and  Lem  Willard,  the 
two  who  had  I  chance  to  get  into  the  tie,  soon 
settled  the  matter,  one  by  missing  the  first  target 
thrown  and  the  other  a  few  shots  later.  Powers, 
Blanks  and  Maryott  were  called  to  the  trap  in  front 
of  the  club  house  as  soon  as  the  last  squad  had 
finished,  to  shot  off  the  tie.  The  former  was  a 
favorite,  while  Blanks  was  hardly  considered  as 
having  a  chance.     Powers  stood  at  20  yards  and  was 

I  trap,  then  came  Maryott,  17  yard-- 
3  trap,  and  Blanks,  17  yards  at  No.  5  trap.  Powers 
missed  his  second  and  third  targets,  then  dropped 
the  thirteenth  and  fourteenth  and  sixteenth,  and 
went  out  with  15,  the  poorest  score  he  had  made 
during  the  week.  Maryott  lost  his  third,  ninth  and 
thirteenth,  finishing  with  17.  Blanks  missed  his 
fourth  and  nineteenth,  giving  him  a  score  of  13,  and 
making  him  the  winner  of  the  coveted  prize.  tie 
shot  a  Remington  Autoloading  gun,  U.   M.   C.   shells. 

The  winners  in  the  Preliminary,  u  A.  II.  and 
team  contest  were  then  lined  up  before  the  house 
and  the  trophies  presented  to  them  by  Mr.  Elmer  E. 
Shaner,  in  the  absence  of  the  president  of  the  asso- 
ciation,  Mr.   J.   A.   Haskell. 

The  purse  in  the  G.  A.  H.  amounted  to  $4292. 
First  money,  $429.90;  second,  $386.25;  third,  343.35; 
fourth,  $300.45;  fifth,  $257.50;  sixth,  $214.60;  seventh, 
$171.70;  eighth,  $128.75;  ninth  to  fourteenth,  $85.85 
each ;  fifteenth  to  fiftieth,  $42.90  each.  The  first 
three  moneys  went  to  the  96  scores;  95  paid  $214.60; 
94,  $88.85;  91,  92,  and  93,  paid  $42.90  each;  the 
90's  paid  $16.50  each. 

The  amateur  and  professional  championship  con- 
tests were  started  at  10 :30  and  finished  about  6 
o'clock.  This  was  at  200  targets,  all  standing  on  the 
IS  yard  mark.  There  were  95  amateurs  and  55  pro- 
fessionals entered  and  the  contest  was  quite  close, 
up  to  the  last  round  it  was  impossible  to  pick  the 
winner  as  there  were  many  chances  for  better 
scores  to  be  made  or  for  shooters  to  get  in  a  tie 
by  breaking  straight.  Late  in  the  afternoon  a  small 
tornado  swept  over  the  grounds  lasting  several 
minutes,  and  it  spoiled  many  a  score  of  those  who 
were  so  unfortunate  as  to  be  on  the  firing  line  at 
the  time.  The  amateur  event  was  won  by  H.  M. 
Clark,  of  Urbana,  Ills.,  shooting  a  "Smith"  single 
trigger    gun,    with    a   score   of    188.      A.    B.    Richard- 


son ,187.  a  close  second;  J.   Barto,  J.  R.  Graham,  and 
J.    M.    Hughes,    186  each;    P.   A.    Hick,   185. 

The  professional  event  was  taken  by  W.  K. 
Crosby  on  a  score  of  192,  his  nearest  competitor  be- 
ing Fred  Gilbert  with  190;  J.  R.  Taylor.  189;  R. 
Klein  And  R.  O.  Heikc-.  186  each;  R.  R.  Barber  (a 
former  winner  of  the  G.  A.  H.),  Guy  Ward,  185 
each. 

The  purse  in  the  amateur  event  amounted  to 
$1620.  First  money,  $226.80;  second,  $194.90;  third, 
$145.80;  fourth.  $129.60;  fifth  and  sixth,  $113.40 
each;  seventh,  $92.20;  eighth  and  ninth,  $81  each; 
tenth,  $64.80;  eleventh  to  thirteenth,  $48.60  each; 
fourteenth  to  twentieth,   $32.40  each. 

The  professional  purse  was  $930.  First  money, 
$186;  second,  $148.80;  third,  $120.90;  fourth,  $93; 
fifth,  $83.70;  sixth,  $65.10;  seventh,  $55.80;  eighth 
and  ninth,  $46.50  each ;  tenth,  $37.20 ;  eleventh, 
$27.90;   twelfth,   $18.60. 

The  trophies  were  presented  by  Mr.  Shaner  in  a 
short  speech,  a  silver  punch  bowl  to  the  amateur 
and  a  silver  candalabra  to  the  professional  winner, 
and  he  then  declared  the  tournament  closed. 

During  the  day  at  these  tournaments  the  social 
side  of  the  sport  is  kept  in  abeyance  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, as  the  shooters  are  too  busy  to  do  much  visit- 
ing. It  is  in  the  evenings,  at  tne  hotels,  that  old 
friends  meet  once  more  to  talk  over  old  times  and 
make  plans  for  the  future.  Several  of  the  members  of 
the  Interstate  Association  kept  open  house  in  the 
parlors  of  the  Palmer  House,  and  made  every  comer 
welcome.  Refreshments,  cigars  and  music  helped 
to  make  the  time  pass  pleasantly,  and  many  lasting 
friendships  will  date  their  beginning  at  the  Grand 
American  of  1907,  in  Chicago. 

A  pleasant  feature  of  one  evening's  doings  at  the 
hotel  was  the  presentation  to  Mr.  Seneca  Lewis,  of 
a  silver  bon-bon  set,  by  his  employees  of  the  Win- 
chester Arms  Co.  Another  pleasant  happening  of 
the  tournament  was  when  Mr.  Shaner,  on  behalf  of 
the  trade  representatives,  presented  Mr.  F.  H. 
Teeple  with  an  elegant  gold  watch.  The  gift  was  an 
entire  surprise  to  Mr.  Teeple,  and  he  was  scarcely 
able  to  speak  to  express  his  thanks. 

The  last  good-byes  were  said,  all  ending  with, 
"I'll  see  you  at  the  next  G.   A.  H." 

Columbus,  Ohio,  and  St.  Louis,  have  made  re- 
quests for  the  1908  meet  and  the  matter  will  be  de- 
cided at  the  meeting  of  the  Association  in  December. 
The  former  city  is  the  choice  of  many  of  the 
shooters,  and  if  put  to  a  vote  would  undoubtedly 
be  chosen.  It  is  centrally  located,  the  club  has  as 
good  grounds  as  can  be  found  in  the  country,  and 
they  are  easily  reached  from  the  hotels,  a  ride  of 
twenty  minutes  on  the  street  cars  bringing  one  to 
the  club  house. 

D.  H.  EATON. 


GREAT  movement  has  begun 
in  the  United  States  and  Eng- 
land toward  the  rejuvenation 
of  the  sport  of  rifle  shooting 
which  has  been  slowly  dying 
out  in  the  last  fifty  years. 
In  the  early  days  a  knowl- 
edge of  how  to  handle  a 
rifle  with  effect  was  a  neces- 
sity in  order  to  keep  the 
larder  supplied  and  to  keep  the  ubiquitous 
Indian  in  a  state  of  reasonable  scarcity 
around  the  settlements.  In  those  days,  not 
to  know  how  to  handle  a  rifle  well  was 
looked  upon  with  as  much  contempt  as 
the  average  business  man  of  the  present 
would  regard  inability  to  read.  The  fact 
has  not  been  impressed  on  Americans  in 
the  last  century,  although  our  friends  across 
the  water  have  learned  the  bitter  lesson, 
that  the  time  is  by  no  means  here  when 
we  can  afford  to  forget  how  to  handle 
our  national  weapon.  We  have  our  peace 
conferences  with  "resoluting"  and  fire- 
works, but  the  bitter  fact  remains  that 
the  nation  which  is  the  most  inclined  to 
peace  is  not  necessarily  the  one  which  will 
avoid  all  trouble,  and  the  contrary  will 
often  be  the  case.  In  a  crowd  of  turbulent 
citizens,  the  individual  with  the  broad 
shoulders  and  bulging  biceps  will  usually 
be  the  last  one  to  be  meddled  with,  while 
the  small  individual  with  glasses  and  a 
scared  look  will  very  likely  have  his  hat 
smashed  down  over  his  eyes,  if  nothing 
worse. 

The  United  States  has  been  kept  out  of 
a  dozen  wars  during  the  last  half-century 
by  our  reputation  acquired  in  the  early  days 
of  our  history  as  a  fighting  nation,  and  we 
can  only  pray  the  good  Lord  that  no  one 
will  come  along  and  show  us  up  before  we 
are  ready.  We  are  at  present  about  as  much 
of  a  fighting  nation  as  a  jelly  fish  can  be 
regarded  as  a  Jim  Jeffries  in  his  native  ele- 
ment. Fighting  at  the  present  time  is  done 
with  fire  arms — and  firearms  of  the  highest  de- 


gree of  effectiveness  in  the  hands  of  a  skilled 
soldier.  The  battles  of  the  future  will  be  set- 
tled by  the  finest  shooting  that  the  world  has 
yet  seen  on  the  field  of  battle,  and  the  side 
which  possesses  the  most  soldiers  who  are  able 
to  hit  what  they  shoot  at  will  win.  General- 
ship is  a  secondary  item;  cavalry  is  of  little 
use  against  magazine  rifles  in  the  hands 
of  sharp-shooting  soldiers;  even  artillery 
fire  is  of  doubtful  effectiveness  against 
troops  which  are  handled  correctly;  and  an 
army  of  fifty  thousand  men  of  the  ability 
of  the  annual  competitors  at  the  great 
shoots  at  Sea  Girt  would  win  every  time 
against  any  ordinary  army  of  three  times 
its  strength. 

England  learned  her  bitter  lesson  in 
South  Africa  some  years  ago,  where  a 
small  body  of  undisciplined  citizens — not 
even  to  be  dignified  by  the  term  "soldier" 
although  they  were  soldiers  of  the  highest 
effectiveness  when  the  test  came — stood  off 
the  pick  of  the  English  Army  and  beat  the 
Queen's  crack  regiments  out  of  their  boots, 
simply  through  their  ability  to  hit  what 
they  shot  at.  The  Boers  knowledge  of  the 
country  was  not  the  important  factor;  the 
English  have  beaten  nations  on  their  own 
ground  times  out  of  mind;  the  things  which 
for  a  period  of  two  years  were  directly 
responsible  for  the  discomfiture  of  the 
strongest  nation  in  the  world  were  the 
Mauser  rifles,  with  behind  them  the  sharp 
eyes  of  a  few  sharp-shooting  Dutchmen. 

The  United  States  has  profited  as  has 
England,  by  the  lessons  taught  by  the 
Boer  war;  and  the  movement  toward 
establishing  citizen  rifle  clubs  is  well  under 
way  all  through  the  East,  yet  not  the 
slightest  ripple  of  the  wave  has  reached 
California.  Here  we  have  the  second 
largest  State  in  the  Union;  plenty  of  room 
to  practice  with  16-inch  Coast  defense  guns 
almost  anywhere  in  the  St?te  if  we  so 
desire;  a  climate  that  permits  us  to  shoot 
the  year  around;  a  light  that  is  perfection 
itself  for  rifle  shooting;  thousands  of  lovers 


WESTERN  FIELD 


of  the  various  outdoor  sports,  and  last  but 
t,  game  of  all  kinds  when  we  tire 
of  shooting  at   inanimate   targets,   y 
have    not    one    live    genuine    club   of    ritlc 

shooters   in   the   whole  State. 

We    have,    it     is    true,    a     few    clubs    of    the 

German  riflemen,  who  while  experts  in 
their    line   yet    teach    and    practice   a   style 

,,f  shooting  that  is  absolutely  useless  for 
practical  work  and  cannot  be  counted  as 
doing  much  towards  advancing  the  sport. 
il  rifle  shooting  is  of  two  kinds:  the 
off-hand  quick  shooting  for  game  or  sudden 
attack  if  in  war,  and  the  deliberate  prone 
shooting  that  sharp-shooters  would  use  in 
picking  off  the  opposing  skirmish  line  of  the 
enemy,  anywhere  from  two  hundred  to 
Fifteen  hundred  yards.  While  it  is  true  that 
rifle  shooting  is  in  itself  one  of  the  most 
enjoyable  and  beneficial  of  our  outdoor 
sports,  yet  it  should  be  practiced  with  the 
same  end  in  view  that  we  practice  in  box- 
ing  that  we  may  be  called  upon  to  use 

it  to  defend  ourselves  and  those  dear  to  us 
in  times  of  danger. 

There  is  nothing  more  beneficial  than 
rifle  shooting  except  more  rifle  shooting. 
It  trains  the  eye,  the  muscles  and  the 
nerves;  it  gives  one  a  command  over  the 
body  that  is  lacking  in  a  great  many  people, 
and  best  of  all  it  takes  one  out  of  doors. 
Even  if  the  rifleman  never  fires  a  shot  in 
anger  or  to  deprive  any  living  thing  of  life, 
he  will  be  a  better  man  for  his  practice;  and 
he  can  feel  with  just  pride  that  if  the  time 
should  come  when  a  hostile  nation  shall 
threaten  our  shores  that  he  is  a  tower  of 
strength  in  himself  toward  protecting  his 
home  and  country.  We  don't  need  a  great 
standing  army,  but  we  do  need  men  among 
our  citizens  who  can  shoot. 

There  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not 
form  a  hundred  rifle  clubs  in  the  State  and 
in  fact  in  all  of  the  states  along  the  Pacific 
Coast.  We  should  have  to  depend  upon 
ourselves  with  our  citizen  soldiery  if  it 
should  come  to  hand  grips  with  our  little 
neighbor  across  the  Pacific,  and  if  when  the 
time  comes  we  can  furnish  one  good  shot 
for  every  two  foreign  soldiers  that 
attempted  to  land  from  the  transports,  the 
enemy  would  never  get  far  from  the  sound 
of  the  surf. 

Rifle  shooting  is  an  inexpensive  sport, 
and  with  our  great  amount  of  open  country 


we  should  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  room 
for  good  ranges  anywhere.  The  price  of  a 
Hood  cigar  will  buy  forty  cartridges  for  the 
small  calibre  rifles,  and  when  you  have 
graduated  from  the  short  range  and  feel 
iiu  lined  to  try  the  military  rifle  at  the  long 
ranges  up  to  a  thousand  yards,  the  Govern- 
ment will  be  glad  to  furnish  your  club  with 
all  the  rifles  and  ammunition  necessary  at 
price,  and  in  addition  the  National 
Rifle  Association  will  furnish  medals  to  be 
contested  for,  medals  that  mean  something 
to  the  winners. 

The  English  are  ahead  of  us  in  this 
respect.  When  Tom  and  Dick  and  Harry 
and  Jem  own  rifles  and  are  interested  in  the 
sport,  they  promptly  form  a  club,  elect  a 
secretary,  get  up  by-laws  and  go  through 
all  the  parliamentary  red  tape  so  dear  to 
the  Englishman's  heart — but  they  get  there 
just  the  same!  Others  come  in,  and  in  a 
short  time  the  Honorable  So  and  So  or  Sir 
somebody  opens  up  their  range  for  them 
with  great  eclat  and  the  nation  is  just  that 
much  stronger  for  having  another  rifle  club. 
Why  not  try  this  plan  here?  Rifles  and 
ammunition  are  inexpensive,  ranges  are 
easily  found  and  for  the  light  calibre  rifles 
require  practically  no  fixing  up,  and  when 
you  get  to  shooting  at  the  long  ranges  with 
'  the  high  power  rifles,  concerted  effort  on 
the  part  of  ten  or  fifteen  members  will  build 
in  a  day  a  good  range  that  will  permit  the 
markers  to  be  in  perfect  safety  while  mark- 
ing the   shots   on   the   targets. 

By  no  means  get  off  on  the  wrong  foot 
and  start  in  with  a  high  power  expensive 
rifle.  If  you  are  a  new  hand  at  the  game, 
get  a  light  .22  repeater  with  the  long  rifle 
cartridge  and  you  have  a  gun  that  will  do 
shooting  up  to  and  including  two  hundred 
yards  on  a  calm  day,  a  gun  that  is  equal 
to  any  high  power  rifle.  A  friend  of  yours 
may  have  a  30-30  that  he  recommends.  All 
right,  let  him  recommend  it;  you  let  it 
alone.  The  average  beginner  will  have  his 
work  cut  out  to  hit  a  small  barn  at  two 
hundred  yards,  and  you  don't  need  a  rifle 
that  will  shoot  any  further  than  that  until 
you  can  put  four  out  of  five  of  your  shots 
in  an  eight-inch  bullseye  at  that  range. 
Then  it  is  time  to  think  of  getting  the 
high  power  rifle,  which  is  incidentally  more 
expensive  to  shoot  and  infinitely  more 
dangerous  to  the  surrounding  country. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


63 


It  requires  more  brains  than  does  any 
other  sport  to  be  a  really  good  long  range 
effective  rifle  shot — which  is  the  only  kind 
that  is  of  any  use  when  it  comes  to  the 
pinch — and  if  the  beginner  will  watch  him- 
self like  a  hawk  from  the  beginning,  and 
will  remember  that  cause  and  effect  are 
intimately  related  when  it  comes  to  rifle 
shooting  as  in  other  things,  he  will  surprise 
himself. 

Get  your  friend  interested,  take  him  out 
and  beat  him  with  the  rifle  at  a  little  match 
— or  get  beaten  just  as  the  case  may  be — 
and  get  a  little  coterie  of  shooters  together. 
Competition  is  the  strongest  incentive  to 
do  your  best,  and  if  you  try  shooting  a 
rifle  against  some  one  else  for  a  few 
months  and  don't  get  more  fun  out  of  it 
than  you  would  whacking  a  little  ball 
around  a  field  with  a  shinny  stick,  or 
sitting  around  a  table  with  some  little 
pasteboard  cards,  trying  to  bluff  the  other 
fellow  out  of  some  of  his  hard  earned 
money,  or  even  sitting  on  a  hard  bench  and 
yowling  like  an  Indian  because  Casey  of 
the  home  team  knocked  a  dome  run,  then 
you  are  differently  constituted  from  the 
ones  who  have  tried  it. 

The  effete  East  is  a  mile  ahead  of  Cal- 
ifornia when  it  comes  to  rifle  shooting. 
Let's  get  busy  and  catch  up,  and  in- 
cidentally have  some  of  the  fun  that  we 
are   missing  at   present. 

The  United  States  Government  stands 
ready   to   furnish   citizens'   clubs   with   all   the 


equipment  necessary  for  military  shooting 
at  cost  price,  and  if  a  man  gets  expert  there 
are  prizes  running  up  into  thousands  of 
dollars  at  the  great  National  Matches  at 
Seagirt,  New  Jersey,  or  Camp  Perry,  Ohio, 
to  be  contested  for  by  anyone  who  is  a 
citizen  of  the  United  States.  The  National 
Rifle  Association  is  doing  all  in  its  power 
to  help  out  this  movement,  and  every  man 
who  has  the  best  interest  of  the  country  at 
heart  and  who  loves  outdoor  sport  should 
interest  himself  in  the  good  work. 

In  the  great  National  Match  at  Seagirt  in 
1906,  California  stood  twenty-seventh  out 
of  about  thirty-five  entries  in  the  shoot 
between  teams  from  the  different  states, 
and  this  about  shows  the  relative  standing 
of  the  State  when  compared  with  other 
states  as  far  as  shooting  goes.  Rather 
humiliating  for  a  man  who  believes  his 
State  to  be  the  best  in  the  Union. 

If  you  are  already  a  shooter,  take  hold 
and  help  out  this  movement  by  getting  up  a 
club  in  your  local  town.  If  you  are  not  yet 
one  of  the  initiated,  get  a  rifle  and  learn 
and  also  get  up  a  club.  With  a  dozen  active 
clubs  in  the  State;  with  competitions  held 
as  often  as  circumstances  will  permit  be- 
tween the  clubs  or  between  the  members 
of  each  club,  the  ball  will  start  rolling  and 
the  West  will  take  her  rightful  place  as 
the  home  of  good  shots;  and  the  men  who 
are  taking  part  in  the  movement  will  have 
the  satisfaction  of  being  patriotic  citizens 
in  addition  to  their  sport. 


N  THE  first  place,  anyone  with 
reasonably  good  eyes,  a  pair  of 
arms  strong  enough  to  lift  six 
or  seven  pounds  and  who  has 
a  fair  control  of  his  muscles, 
can  become  a  good  rifle  shot ; 
and  the  measure  of  the  success 
gained  is  in  direct  ratio  to  the 
amount  of  brain  matter  and 
practice     devoted     to     this     ex- 


cellent  sport. 
The    word 


'he"    is    used    throughout    this 


article  to  designate  the  shooter,  but  this  by 
no  means  is  to  imply  that  the  shooter 
should  be  of  the  masculine  persuasion.  On 
the  contrary,  it  is  of  more  importance  for  a 
woman  to  learn  to  handle  firearms  well  than 
it  is  for  a  man. 

A  man  has  his  fists  and  strength  to  fall 
back  on  in  case  of  assault  while  the  aver- 
age woman  is  helpless.  Every  day  or  so 
we'  read  of  some  dastardly  outrage  perpe- 
trated on  some  unprotected  woman,  and  for 
every  instance  we  read  of  half  a  dozen  take 


-.1 


WESTERN  I:l ELD 


place   that    never   get    into   print.     If   every 

woman   would   learn,  ai   she   learns   o 

■  >r   sewing,   the   use   oi   firearms   and   acquire 

the  ability  to  hit  what  she  shot  at,  the  popular 

amusement    of    assaulting    and    robbing    and 

murdering  lonely  women  would  cease  to 

iis   present   attractions    to    the    thug.     Every 

man    who    has    a    wife    or    sisu-r   or    daughter, 

and  who  j-  himself  proficient  in  the  use  of 
firearms  and  yet  fails  to  instruct  the  woman 
folks  dependent  upon  him  how  to  handle  a 
gun  of  some  sort,  should  feel  that  he  is 
lacking  to  some  extent  in  his  duty  toward 
them.  Let  the  girls  learn  the  use  of  fire- 
arms; the  knowledge  may  come  in  handy 
some  day  and  they  will  be  better  off,  anyway, 
for  the  outdoor  practice. 

The  first  step  in  learning  the  proper  use 
of  a  rifle  is  like  the  celebrated  recipe  on 
cooking  the  hare — first  get  your  rifle.  Don't 
get  any  old  rifle  that  some  friend  may  have 
or  that  some  one  recommends  to  you ;  use 
your  gray  matter  from  the  first  and  get  a 
rifle  that  will  answer  your  purpose  and  yet 
he  safe  to  shoot  near  a  city  if  you  happen 
to  be  a  city  dweller,  and  that  will  be  economi- 
cal to  -; 

If  you  are  a  beginner — and  this  article  is 
only  addresed  to  this  class  of  shooters — you 
have  no  busines  with  a  big  calibre  or  a  high 
power  rifle.  They  are  dangerous  weapons 
to  shoot  near  a  settlement,  even  in  the  hands 
of  an  expert;  and  a  raw-  hand's  peppering 
the  surrounding  country  with  bullets  travel- 
ing at  some  2000  feet  per  second  is  very 
liable  to  bring  him  before  a  coroner's  jury, 
or  at  least  to  face  the  angry  owner  of  "the 
finest  cow  on  my  ranch,  sir,"  and  he  will 
have  to  pay  damages  enough  to  disgust  him 
with  all  future  shooting. 

The  best  all-round  rifle  is  a  .22  calibre  re- 
peater that  will  handle  the  Long  Rifle  Cart- 
ridge, or  a  good  weight  single  shot  adapted 
for  this  cartridge.  It  does  not  pay  to  buy 
a  toy  that  cannot  be  held  steadily  and  each 
gun  doesn't  last  long.  Get  a  rifle  weighing 
at  least  five  pounds  of  any  of  the  standard 
American  makes ;  they  are  all  good  now  days. 
See  that  the  pull  is  not  over  four  or  four  and 
a  half  pounds,  and  you  are  ready  to  begin 
practice.  You  can  test  the  pull  by  getting 
a  weight  that  you  know  is  not  over  five 
pounds  and  hanging  it  by  a  string  to  the 
trigger,  the  hammer  being  previously  cocked. 


If  the  gun  i*-  pulled  "if,  tin-  pull  is  correct, 
but  if  the  trigger  cannot  be  pulled  with  a 
five-pound  weight  you  had  better  take  it  to 
a  gunsmith  and  have  the  pull  lightened. 

It  is  better  to  practice  with  the  gun  un- 
loaded for  a  few  times;  the  beginner  is  al- 
ways a  little  gun-shy  even  with  a  light  rifle 
and  .22  cartridges :  that  is,  the  noise  disturbs 
him  so  that  he  does  not  give  due  attention 
to  pulling  the  trigger  as  he  should. 

The  whole  secret  in  shooting  a  rifle  is  not 
the  "vice-like  grip"  we  read  about,  where 
the  shooter  holds  his  rifle  immovably  fixed  on 
the  target  until  he  gets  ready  to  shoot  and 
then  pulls  the  trigger ;  this  is  a  physical  im- 
possibility. Learn  to  shoot  a  rifle  as  you 
would  a  shotgun :  with  the  arm  out,  with 
control  of  your  rifle,  so  that  you  can  shoot 
in  a  strong  wind  or  at  an  object  running 
rapidly.  The  main  requisite  to  being  a  good 
rifle  shot  is  complete  control  of  your  mus- 
cles— not  to  hold  the  gun  "motionless"  on  the 
target,  for  this  is  practically  impossible — but 
to  squeeze  your  firing  hand  at  the  first  instant 
your  sights  are  lined  )</•  on  the  object  to  be 
hit  and  not  at  the  second  or  third  or  fifteenth 
time  your  front  sight  crosses  the  object  to 
be  punctured. 

You  will  find  that  it  is  a  very  hard  thing 
to  hold  your  sights  in  line  on  an  inch  bulls- 
eye  at  thirty  feet  or  so  for  even  an  instant, 
and  even  if  you  can  do  so  you  will  find  it 
a  still  harder  matter  so  squeeze  your  hand 
while  the  sights  are  on  the  bullseye.  Your 
brain  says  "Shoot !"  but  the  telegraphic  ser- 
vice to  your  finger  on  the  trigger  never  seems 
slower  or  more  like  real  telegraph  service 
than  when  you  attempt  to  send  the  "Fire" 
signal  to  your  firing  hand. 

With  the  gun  unloaded  take  aim  at  a 
small  target  or  black  disk  on  the  wall,  hold- 
ing the  rifle  with  left  arm  well  extended  but 
not  tensed  up  rigidly,  and  with  the  right  hand 
firmly  gripping  the  stock  and  trigger.  Stand 
as  easily  as  possible,  don't  screw  yourself  up 
in  a  knot;  you  must  be  as  comfortable  as 
possible  to  do  good  shooting.  Most  people 
will  find  the  gun  fits  better  to  raise  the  right 
shoulder,  or  elbow — which  will  raise  the 
shoulder — thus  making  a  better  support  for 
the  butt  of  the  rifle  and  decreasing  the  lia- 
bility of  the  weapon's  slipping. 

Now,  with  the  sights  pointed  in  the  direc- 
tion  of   the   target   and   the   hammer   cocked, 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


65 


but  without  taking  much  care  as  to  the  gun 
being  carefully  aimed,  try  slowly  squeezing 
your  right  hand  until  the  gun  snaps.  The 
motion  should  be  as  though  you  were  try- 
ing to  squeeze  the  trigger  up  into  the  stoek 
and  the  whole  hand  should  be  slowly  con- 
tracted. Don't  pull  or  jerk  the  trigger  for 
that  is  just  what  you  should  not  do.  "Pull- 
ing" the  trigger  will  invariably  pull  the  gun 
also,  and  your  shot  will  not  strike  where 
your  sights  were  pointed  before  you  fired. 

Practice,  a  dozen  times,  squeezing  the  trig- 
ger with  the  whole  hand  while  gripping  the 
gun  with  the  same  force  as  the  trigger,  until 
you  can  tell  what  force  is  necessary  to  dis- 
charge the  gun.  You  will  find  that  by  this 
method  you  can  fire  a  gun  with  an  eight  or 
nine-pound  pull  very  easily,  whereas  by  clasp- 
ing the  stock  loosly  with  the  right  hand  and 
attempting  to  fire  by  simply  pulling  on  the 
trigger,  it  will  seem  to  you  as  though  the 
gun  would  never  go  off  and  you  will  begin 
to  shake  and  wobble  it  long  before  the  shot 
is  fired,  or  else  you  will  jerk  the  trigger  and 
thereby  pull  the  sights  off  the  object  to  be 
hit.  After  you  think  you  have  mastered  this 
trigger  squeezing  until  you  can  fire  the  gun 
without  jerking  the  sights  out  of  line,  try 
the  aiming  drill. 

Start  the  muzzle  about  six  inches  below 
the  bullseyes,  if  practicing  at  a  thirty-foot 
range ;  take  a  medium  sight,  neither  coarse 
nor  fine,  and  preserving  this  same  relative 
position  of  the  sight  in  the  notch,  raise  the 
gun  slowly  until  the  front  sight  just  touches 
the  lower  edge  of  the  bullseye,  then  stop 
the  gun  for  an  instant  and  squeeze  the  trig- 
ger, watching  carefully  to  see  which  way, 
if  any,  the  muzzle  is  twitched  when  the  trig- 
ger is  pulled.  You  should  not  try  for  a  second 
sight.  If  the  sight  did  not  come  steadily 
and  slowly,  and  you  did  not  feel  that  the 
.bullet  would  strike  the  bullseye  if  you  pulled 
the  trigger,  don't  shoot. 

It  is  better  to  take  the  gun  down  and  try 
again.  It  is  simply  a  matter  of  practice,  get- 
ting the  hand  to  respond  the  instant  your 
front  sight  gets  into  position,  and  it  will 
not  do  to  try  a  second  time  if  you  do  not 
get  the  sight  into  the  right  position  the  first 
time  you  raise  the  gun.  Always  take  the 
rifle  down  and  start  over  again ;  don't  hold 
the  gun  up  on  the  bullseye  and  wobble  around, 
trying  to  get  the  sights  on  the  right  spot, 
for  that  is  just  what  makes  poor  shots.   Train 


yourself  to  squeeze  the  trigger  at  the  right 
time,  just  as  the  batsman  swings  his  bat 
at  the  ball  just  at  the  right  lime  to  meet 
it  and  drive  it  out  for  a  long  hit.  He  doesn't 
get  a  second  chance,  the  ball  has  passed  and 
he  must  train  himself  to  strike  at  the  proper 
moment  or  not  strike  at  all.  A  good  many 
beginners — and  for  that  matter,  shots  of  long 
experience — think  that  because  the  target  is 
inanimate  that  they  can  wiggle  the  gun  around 
the  target  all  day  until  they  get  what  they 
think  is  the  correct  sight,  and  then  pull  the 
trigger.  This  is  wrong;  because  in  the  first 
place  the  longer  the  gun  is  held  out  the  more 
unsteady  the  rifleman  becomes.  You  can 
prove  this  by  holding  a  book  out  at  arm's 
length  and  watching  the  arm  begin  to  tire 
and  become  unsteady  and  finally  become 
nerveless.  In  the  second  place,  the  practice 
with  the  rifle,  while  very  enjoyable,  should 
be  regarded  as  a  means  to  an  end,  and  whether 
you  are  shooting  at  game  or  at  an  enemy 
in  battle  you  want  to  shoot  quickly  and  ac- 
curately, and  the  only  way  to  accomplish  this 
is  by  raising  the  gun  slowly  and  steadily  and 
firing  when  the  sight  reaches  the  object, 
not  before  that  time  nor  afterward. 

Hold  your  breath  when  you  start  your  gun 
up ;  that  is,  take  a  moderately  long  breath, 
enough  to  fill  your  lungs  comfortably  and 
don't  breathe  when  about  to  fire.  If  this 
is  oppressive  it  shows  that  you  are  taking 
too   much   time   in   your    sighting. 

Don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  use  cartridges ; 
learn  to  handle  the  gun  properly  before  load- 
ing it  at  all ;  practice  this  firing  and  sight- 
ing drill  until  you  can  fire  the  gun  every 
time  you  start  it  up  and  are  reasonably  sure 
that  your  sights  are  in  the  right  spot  when 
the  trigger  is  squeezed.  If  you  cannot  do  this 
you  have  no  business  loading  the  gun,  the 
noise  of  the  discharge  will  only  distract  your 
attention  and  will  add  nothing  to  your  pro- 
ficiency. If  you  were  in  the  army  at  present 
you  would  be  required  to  practice  this  aim- 
ing and  firing  drill  for  weeks  before  you  even 
saw  a  ball  cartridge,  and  all  that  this  drill 
is  for  is  merely  to  hit  the  object  shot  at, 
nothing  more.  Have  confidence  in  yourself, 
raise  the  gun  confidently,  squeeze  the  trigger 
confidently  and  don't  get  the  rattles  or  jerks 
at  any  stage  of  your  rifle  shooting.  Concen- 
trate your  mind  intently  on  the  one  thing 
of  squeezing  the  trigger  at  the  right  time, 
and   don't   let   any   outside    influences    disturb 


WESTERS    I 


you  or  take  >"ur  mind  off  the  operation.  Con- 
centration  is  necessary  in  all  things;  and  is 
never  more  so  than  in  shooting  a  rifle,  until 
the  pulling  of  the  tri^cr  at  the  right  time 
becomes   sccotul    natl  I    BS    it    will    if 

you   start   right   and   practice   faithfully. 

He  would  be  an  unreasonable  man  who 
would  expect  to  be  a  good  golf  or  tennis 
player    or    a     ■  I     or     boxer     without 

plenty  of  good,  hard,  concent rativc  practice, 
yet  there  are  a  good  many  shooters  who 
conraged  because  they  cannot  go  out 
and  become  good  shots  by  simply  banging 
away  with  the  rifle,  regardless  of  what  mis- 
takes they  make  in  holding  and  firing  the  gun. 
It  is  not  the  amount  of  practice  as  much  as 
it  is  the  bind  of  practice  that  counts. 

When  you  feel  that  you  thoroughly  under- 
stand the  firing  practice,  and  can  raise  the 
gun  and  pull  the  trigger  and  feel  that  most 
of  your  cartridges  would  not  be  wasted 
were  the  gun  loaded,  then  get  out  your  ammu- 
nition and  load  the  gun.  Most  rifles  as  they 
come  from  the'  factory  are  sighted  correctly 
for  a  normal  eye,  but  so  many  persons  differ 
from  the  normal  that  you  should  watch  the 
general  grouping  of  your  shots  in  your  early 
practice ;  and  if  you  find  after  firing  a  hun- 
dred or  so  shots  that  the  general  group- 
ing is  toward  the  left,  take  a  brass  rod  about 
two  inches  long  and  with  it  and  a  hammer 
drive  your  rear  sight  to  the  right  just  a 
trifle  and  then  try  a  few  more  shots  until 
you  have  the  correct  combination.  You  may 
rest  the  rifle  on  a  pillow  and  get  your  elbows 
braced  on  something,  then  with  a  steady  pull 
off,  your  shots  should  go  into  the  center 
every  time.  If  not.  change  the  sights  ac- 
cordingly. Don't  be  in  a  hurry  to  change 
your  sights  at  first;  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten 
the  fault  is  in  you  and  not  in  the  sighting. 
It  hardly  seems  necessary  to  caution  the 
beginner  that  a  .22  calibre  in  spite  of  its  small 
size  is  not  a  toy,  and  that  the  bullet  will 
penetrate  six  inches  of  soft  pine;  but  it  is 
well  to  remember  this  fact  and  see  that  your 
backstop  is  good  and  substantial  before  go- 
ing into  the  practice  with  cartridges. 

Your  preliminary  practice  will  count  for 
more  than  the  shooting  with  the  rifle  loaded, 
and  if  you  have  practiced  faithfully  before 
using  cartridges  you  will  find  no  trouble  in 
getting  the  majority  of  your  shots  at  least 
somewhere  near  the  object  shot  at.    Learn 


early  to  call  your  shots:  that  is,  when  you 
pull  the  trigger  you  should  feel  that  you 
know  exactly  where  your  shot  will  strike. 
It  may  be  you  have  pulled  just  as  the  gun 
was  a  little  to  the  left  of  the  bullscye  and 
you  should  be  able  to  instantly  announce 
the  resulting  location  of  the  bullet  hole 
before  the  shot  is  marked  or  you  examine 
the  target.  The  best  military  shots  will 
call  their  shots  nine  times  out  of  ten  cor- 
rectly, and  the  whole  secret  of  this  is  the 
steady  pull-off  that  you  have  been  practic- 
ing. The  target  is  in  military  parlance  a 
clock  face,  and  the  shots  are  called  where 
they  would  strike  were  the  target  supplied 
with  figures  of  a  clock.  That  is,  a  shot 
just  a  trifle  to  the  left  of  the  bullseye  and 
just  cutting  the  lower  edge  would  be  a 
seven  o'clock  bullseye,  and  one  cutting  the 
top  of  the  bullseye  on  the  exact  center  ver- 
tical line  would  be  a  twelve  o'clock  bullseye 
or  "Bull"  as  it  is  called  in  military  slang. 
Therefore,  when  you  pull  the  trigger  an- 
nounce the  result  of  your  shot  before  you 
examine  the  target,  saying  "an  eight  o'clock 
bullseye"  or  an  "eleven  o'clock  four"  as  the 
case  may  be.  (The  ring  next  to  the  bulls- 
eye  on  a  military  target  is  a  four  in  value 
while  the  bullseye  is  a  five.)  If  your  shot 
does  not  strike  where  you  called  it,  or  at 
least  on  the  same  side  of  the  bullseye,  you 
will  know  that  your  pull-off  was  not  good 
or  that  the  wind  affected  your  bullet,  al- 
though the  last  reason  would  not  apply 
except  in  shooting  a  hundred  yards  or  more 
with  a  brisk  wind. 

Don't  "cant"  the  rifle  to  one  side;  if 
you  do  get  into  this  habit  and  ever  shoot  at 
long  range  you  will  not  be  able  to  account 
for  the  misses  you  get  with  a  perfect  sight, 
so  don't  get  in  the  habit  at  all.  Hold  the 
gun  so  that  the  flat  top  of  the  barrel  is 
level,  not  tilted  either  to  right  or  left. 

Once  you  have  learned  to  pull  the  rifle 
quickly  and  steadily  without  jerking  it,  you 
have  learned  the  most  important  thing  in 
rifle  shooting;  and  if  you  do  not  learn  this 
you  will  always  be  an  unreliable,  erratic 
shot,  making  a  bullseye  one  shot  and  a  miss 
the  next.  This  sort  of  a  shooter  never  wins 
a  match  and  never  has  a  place  on  a  rifle 
team  if  there  is  a  man  who  can  make  fours 
or  even  threes  consistently.  A  miss  and  a 
bullseye  averages  two  and  a  half  points  to 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


67 


each  shot,  so  don't  make  misses!  And  if 
you  make  a  good  score  one  string  of  shots 
and  a  poor  one  the  next  string,  kick  your- 
self; for  you  arc  not  shooting  consistently 
and  consistency  is  the  sine  qua  non  of  a 
good  match   shot. 

Once  you  have  mastered  the  target  or 
inanimate  object  shooting  get  some  friend 
— or  still  better  your  wife,  so  you  can  blame 
your  misses  on  to  her  poor  throwing — to 
throw  an  empty  can  into  the  air  for  you, 
and  practice  shooting  at  flying  objects.  This 
sort  of  a  thing  will  teach  you  to  catch  your 
sight  quickly  and  to  shoot  at  just  the  right 
moment,  valuable  practice  for  game  shoot- 
ing. Aim  at  the  bottom  edge  of  the  can  as 
it  is  coming  down,  or  better  still  catch  it 
as  it  is  turning  to  come  down.  Aim  your 
rifle  at  about  the  heighth  to  which  the  can 


is  thrown  and  follow  it  with  the  sights, 
never  stopping  the  gun,  under  any  cir- 
cumstances, as  you  pull  the  trigger.  You 
will  be  surprised  with  a  little  practice  how 
easy  it  is  to  hit  flying  objects  with  a  rifle. 

One  more  word  to  the  beginner:  as  far 
as  you  are  concerned,  regard  every  kind  of 
firearm  as  being  always  loaded,  always 
cocked  and  equipped  witH  a  hair  trigger 
that  the  least  jar  will  discharge,  and  handle 
your  rifle  or  any  other  firearm  you  may  use 
accordingly.  Don't  point  any  kind  of  fire- 
arm at  anyone  nor  allow  anyone  to  point 
a  firearm  at  you,  no  matter  how  certain  you 
are  that  the  gun  is  unloaded.  A  fool  and  a 
firearm  should  be  perfect  strangers;  there- 
fore as  you  are  to  use  firearms,  don't  join 
this   class.  "SMALLARMS." 


RUN  OF  THE  AUTOMOBILE  CLUB 
OF  CALIFORNIA  TO   DEL   MONTE 


D 
D 


By  ARTHUR  INKERSLEY 


harde 


HE  July  run  of  the  Automobile  Club 
of  California  to  Del  Monte  and  the 
Gymkhana  on  the  race-track  these 
were  the  most  successful  events  that 
have  ever  been  held  by  that  organiza- 
tion. The  endurance  run  from  San 
Francisco  to  Del  Monte  was  arranged 
by  Arthur  B.  Watson,  chairman  ot 
the  Runs  and  Tours  Committee.  At 
first  sight  it  seemed  an  easy  thing  to 
cover  the  130  miles  between  the 
Golden  Gate  and  the  Bay  of 
6  hours  54  minutes,  but  it  turned  out 
it  appeared  to  do  it  under  the  con- 
down.  In  order  to  do  away  with 
the  cars,  it  was  arranged  that  the  cars 
must  reach  San  Jose  in  not  less  than  2  hours 
54  minutes  nor  more  than  3  hours  after  leaving 
San  Francisco;  must  cover  the  distance  between 
San  Jose  and  Gilroy  in  not  less  than  1  hour  30 
minutes  nor  more  than  1  hour  36  minutes;  and 
must  reach  Del  Monte  in  not  less  than  2  hours 
30  minutes  or  more  than  2  hours  36  minutes  after 
leaving  Gilroy.  One  hour's  stop  for  luncheon  was 
permitted  at  Gilroy.  About  twenty  cars  took  part 
in  the  endurance  contest,  three  of  them  tieing  for 
first  place.  They  were  a  Studebaker  driven  by 
Eagal;  a  Winton  operated  by  Arbuckle  and  a  Peer- 
less   controlled    by    Williams.     Lots    were    drawn    for 


the   trophy   by   the   three   drivers    and    Arbuckle   won. 

The  Gymkhana  was  held  on  the  Del  Monte  track 
on  the*  Fourth,  four  of  the  smaller  events  on  the 
programme  taking  place  in  the  morning  and  the 
remainder  in  the  afternoon.  The  half-mile  speed- 
judging  contest  at  the  rate  nearest  to  ten  miles  an 
hour  was  won  by  Ely  in  a  Peerless  in  exactly  3 
miriutes.  The  2-mile  race  for  runabouts  of  20  horse- 
power or  less  was  won  by  Tony  Nichols  in  a 
Franklin  in  3:14.  The  same  operator  won  the  third 
event,  50  yards,  take  off  coat,  turning  it  inside  out 
and  putting  it  on  again,  start  engine  and  run  50 
yards,  best  time  to  win.  in  33  H  seconds.  The 
three-mile  race  for  Touring  cars  20  horse-power 
or  less  was  won  by  Hickman  in  a  Moline  car;  time, 
4:40. 

The  races  in  the  afternoon  were  attended  by  the 
largest  crowd  of  spectators  that  has  ever  been 
seen  on  the  Del  Monte  track.  Scores  of  automobiles 
were  packed  in  the  polo-field  and  the  grand-stand 
was  filled  with  people.  The  afternoon  was  warm 
and  bright.  The  fifth  event  on  the  programme  was 
a  one-mile  speed  judging  contest,  the  operator  runn- 
ing nearest  to  a  speed  of  20  miles  an  hour  to  be  the 
winner.  Hendry  in  a  Moline  car  won  in  exactly  3 
minutes.  The  10-mile  race  for  runabouts  of  24  horse- 
power or  more  was  won  by  Bert  Dingley  in  a 
Pope-Hartford:  time,  12:42.  The  100-yard  dash, 
for  gasoline  cars  only,  was  won  by  John  Fleming 
in    a    Pierce    Arrow;    time,    1 1  Yt    seconds. 


68 


WESTERN  FIELD 


-■1  ih   event   was  the  big  one  of  the  day.  the 

Smile    race    for    the     1M     Montr    I'up.       There    being 

seven    entries,    it    was    necessary    to    have    two    pre- 

The    first    of    these    was    won    by    a 

le  driven   by    Frank    Miner   ami    the   second 

ftotenfeld    in    a    Peerless.      In    the    Una]    heat 

Max     Roaenfeld     won     in     6:16)4,     tail     being     his 

secoml  victory  on  the  Del  Monte  Cup.  Kosenfchl  . 
won  in  a  1906  model  car  that  has  been  used  con- 
tinuously since  it  came  to  San  Francisco  from  the 
Peerless  factory.  The  5  mile  race  for  touring-cars  of 
power  or  more  brought  out  a  Pierce  Great 
Packard.  For  the  first 
three  miles  the  cars  kept  close  together,  but  at  last 
ihe  Packard  drew  away  and  came  in  an  easy 
winner;  time,  6:13^.  The  Packard  is  owned  by 
Welch  and  was  driven  by  H.  E.  Warner.  In  the 
5-mile  free-for-all  event  the  contestants  were  the 
Packard,  the  Peerless  and  the  Stcvens-Duryea  "Big 
Six".  The  Stcvcrts-Duryca  performed  exc. 
well  and  won  in  6:06^5 — the  best  time  for  five 
miles    made    at    the    meet. 

Some  of  the  contestants  saying  that  5-mile  and 
10-mile  races  are  not  long  enough  to  test  the  merits 
of  a  car  thoroughly,  it  was  arranged  that  a  50- 
mile  event  should  be  held  on  the  track  on  Friday. 
The  track  was  scraped,  harrowed,  rolled  and  watered 
to  put  it  into  condition  for  the  event  and  the 
officials  who  managed  the  races  on  the  previous  day 
were  asked  to  take  charge.  These  were  Arthur 
B.  Watson,  Referee;  Clinton  E.  Worden  and  W. 
B.  Bourn.  Judges;  M.  L.  Requa  and  R.  H.  Pease, 
Jr.,  Timers;  R.  R.  l'Hommedieu,  Clerk  of  the 
Course    and    Starter. 

Seven  cars  took  part  in  the  race,  the  Pope- 
Hartford    runabout    that    won    the    10-mile    race    on 


the  previous  day  and  J.  A.  Marsh's  "Old  Forty" 
Pificc  Arrow  not  being  on  hand.  The  seven  cars 
were  drawn  up  a  hundred  yards  from  the  starting 
line  in  two  rows,  four  in  the  first  and  three  in  the 
i  pw.  The  Stevens-Duryea,  Stearns  and 
Thomas  Seventy  got  away  in  the  lead  and  kept  close 
for  the  first  six  miles.  Then  the  Stearns 
to  slacken  speed  and  at  last  was  taken  off 
the  track,  when  it  was  found  that  the  supply  of  gas 
was  deficient.  So  much  time  was  expended  in 
repairing  the  carburetter  that  the  Stearns  lost  its 
chance  of  winning  but  it  was  replaced  on  the  track 
I  covered  46  miles,  when  it  was  withdrawn. 
Max  Rosenfeld's  Peerless  was  doing  well  when  a 
tire  blew  out  and  nine  minutes  were  lost  in  replac- 
ing it.  The  Thomas  Flyer  also  had  to  replace  a  tire. 
The  Cadillac  touring  car  covered  the  distance  with- 
out having  to  make  any  repairs  or  adjustments. 
The  Stcvens-Duryea  won  in  1:01:00;  the  Thomas 
Seventy  being  second  in  1:06:47  and  the  Loco- 
mobile third  in  1:06:57.  The  Peerless,  Cadillac  and 
Thomas  Flyer  finished  in  the  order  in  which  they 
are  named.  The  winning  car  was  driven  by  A.  H. 
Martin  and  covered  the  first  ten  miles  in  12 :16VS  : 
the  second  ten  in  11:28;  the  third  in  12:07!4;  the 
fourth  ten  in  U:52;4  and  the  last  ten  in  12:16J4. 
The  record  time  for  fifty  miles  was  a  fraction  above 
1.03.00  until  on  Decoration  Day  at  the  Denver 
Automobile  meet  a  Thomas  Forty  driven  by  Mather- 
son  •  covered    the    distance    in    55:43    3-5. 

It  is  probable  that  arrangements  will  be  made  for 
a  second  run  and  race-meet  of  the  Automobile  Club 
of  California  at  Del  Monte  during  the  Admission 
Day   holidays  in   September. 


THE  JULY  "GOLF  WEEK"  AT 
DEL  MONTE 


By  ARTHUR  INKERSLEY. 


."  PREVIOUS  years  there  has  been 
one  "golf  week"  at  Del  Monte, 
this  being  held  during  August  or 
September.  But  this  year  two  golf 
tournaments,  each  lasting  one  week, 
have  already  been  held  and  a  third 
will  take  place  in  September — from 
the  4th  to  the  9th.  both  inclusive. 
The  July  "golf  week"  began  on 
Monday,  the  first,  on  which  day  the 
qualifying  rounds  over  thirty-six 
holes,  medal  score,  of  the  competi- 
tion for  the  Del  Monte  Cup  for  men  were  played. 
There  were  nine  entries,  eight  of  whom  made  the 
two  rounds  of  the  eighteen-hole  course.  Dr.  E.  E. 
Baker  and  A.  W.  Splivalo  played  the  36-holes  in  the 
afternoon.  John  Parrott,  Jr.,  of  the  Burlingame 
Country  Club  entered  the  tournament  but  was  pre- 
vented by  the  death  of  his  cousin  from  taking  part 
in   the  competition   for  the  Del   Monte   Cup   for  men, 


though  his  entry  for  the  Consolation  Handicap  was 
accepted.  Douglas  Grant  of  the  Burlingame  Country 
Club  returned  the  best  score,  80,  81,  total  161.  The 
scores  and  positions  of  the  players  are  shown  in  the 
table: 


Del  Monte  Cup  for  Men. 
Qualifying  Rounds;    July  1. 


Competitor! 


R.  M.  Loesser 

Dr.  S.  L.  Caldwell. 
R.  E.  Allardice.... 

1.  S.  Carroll 

Admiral  Trilley 

Douelas  Grant 

Dr.  E.  E.  Baker.... 

A  W.  Splivalo 

John  Parrott.  Jr.... 


1st  Rd. 

2dR  d. 

Total 

90 

102 

192 

99 

98 

197 

114 

111 

225 

101 

110 

211 

93 

102 

195 

81 

80 

161 

86 

85 

171 

108 

105 

213 

•Entered,  but  did  not  play. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


t?) 


There  being  only  eight  competitors  the  match 
play  was  completed  in  three  rounds,  the  first  of 
which  was  played  on  Tuesday  morning,  July  2, 
and  the  second  on  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day. 
The  handicaps  were  based  on  the  form  displayed  by 
the  competitors  in  the  qualifying  rounds.  The 
four  winners  were  Douglas  Grant,  A,  W.  Splivalo, 
the  Rev.  E.  E.  Baker  and  Professor  R.  E.  Allardice. 
The  only  close  match  was  that  between  R.  M. 
Locser  and  A.  W.  Splivalo.  The  latter,  except  for 
a  game  or  two  on  the  course  of  the  Claremont 
Country  Club,  had  not  played  for  two  years  and 
made  a  poor  score  in  the  qualifying  round.  He  re- 
ceived a  match  play  handicap  of  fifteen  strokes — the 
largest  given  to  any  player  except  Professor  Allardice, 
who  received  a  stroke  on  every  hole.  The  Professor 
smothered  Admiral  Trilley  and  the  Rev.  E.  E. 
Baker  defeated  his  opponent  by  the  same  ample 
margin  as  that  which  separated  the  Professor  and 
the   Admiral. 

In  the  second  or  semi-final  round  A.  W.  Splivalo, 
receiving  fifteen  strokes,  beat  Douglas  Grant  4  up  3 
to  play  and  .Professor  Allardice  defeated  Dr.  E.  E. 
Baker  2  up   1   to  play. 

The  final  round  over  thirty-six-holes,  eighteen  iit 
the  morning  and  eighteen  in  the  afternoon  was 
played  on  Wednesday  the  3rd  between  Professor 
R.  E.-  Allardice  and  A.  W.  Splivalo.  The  Professor 
received  three  strokes  from  his  opponent,  being  one 
stroke  at  the  third,  fifth  and  tenth  holes.  On  the 
first  eighteen  holes  the .  Professor  obtained  a  lead 
of  6  up  and  increased  this  in  the  afternoon.  At 
the  27th  hole  he  won  the  match  by  the  big  margin 
of  10  up  9  to  play.  The  Professor  won  the  Del 
d  A.  W.  Splivalo  received  the  trophy 
r-up.      The    full    details    are    shown    in 


Aionte  Cup 
for  the  rui 
the   table: 


'Ei.  Monte  Cup  for  Men: 
Match  Play  Rounds. 


First  Round 

Semi-final 
Round 

Final  Round 

1 

Scr. 
10 
9 
15 

3 
14 
10 

is 

Douglas  Grant  1 
S.  L.  Caldwell  1 
R.    M.   Loeser  1 
A.  W.  Splivalo  l 
Dr.E.E.  Baker  I. 
J,  S.  Carroll. . .  i 
Admir'ITrilley  1 
R.  E.  Allardice  1 

Grant         1 

.S  up  4  to  play  1 

Splivalo        1 

2  up  1  to  play  1 

Baker 
S  up  h  to  play  ! 
Allardice      | 
S  up  6  to  play  J 

Splivalo       1 
4  up  .'*>  to  play 

1 

Allardice      1 

2  up  1  to  play  1 

The  winner  is  a  Scotchman,  a  graduate  of  Edin- 
burgh University  and  a  Professor  at  Stanford 
University.      He   is   the   founder   of  the   Machrihanish 


(A.    W. 

of  the 


Golf  Club  at  Palo  Alto.  The  run 
Splivalo)  and  the  Rev.  E.  E.  Baker  (Paste 
First  Presbyterian  Church  of  Oakland)  are  members 
of  the  Claremont  Country  Club.  R.  M.  Loeser  is  a 
resident  of  Palo  Alto  and  a  special  student  at 
Stanford  University.  Admiral  John  Trilley,  U.  S.  N., 
is  a  resident  of  Pacific  Grove  and  Dr.  S.  L.  Cald- 
well comes  from  Colorado  Springs,  being  a  member 
of  the  Town  and  Gown  Club  there.  J.  S.  Carroll 
is   a   member   of   the   Los   Angeles    Country    Club. 

The  qualifying  round  over  eighteen  holes  of  the 
competition  for  the  Del  Monte  Cup  for  women  took 
place  on  Tuesday  morning,  the  participants  being 
Miss  E.  s\.  W.  Morgan,  who  went  round  with  Miss 
Cornelia  W.  Armsby,  and  Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser,  who 
played   with   Mrs.   H.   R.   Warner.      Their  scores  were 


old     Photo 

Miss  Cornelia  W.  Armsby 
Winner  Del  Monte  Cup  for  Women 


Miss    Morgan,    118 


Mrs.    Warner,    127. 

In     the     first     and     semi-final 


natch 


eighteen  holes,  played  on  the  morning  of  Thursday, 
July  4th,  Miss  Armsby,  scratch,  beat  Mrs.  Loeser, 
receiving  twelve  strokes,  3  up  1  to  play ;  and  Mrs. 
Warner  won  from  Miss  Morgan,  receiving  two 
strokes,  2  up.  Miss  Armsby  played  an  excellent 
game,  going  out  in  49  and  coming  in  in  43,  total 
y2.  Her  card  for  the  second  nine  holes  read:  7, 
6,  5,  5,  4,  4,  4,  4,  4, — 43.  Her  opponent  received 
a  stroke  at  every  hole  except  the  6th,  9th,  14th,  15th, 
16th   and    ISth. 

In  the  final  match  round  on  Thursday  morning, 
July  4th,  Miss  Armsby,  playing  from  scratch,  beat 
Mrs.  Warner,  receiving  twelve  strokes,  2  up.  Miss 
Armsby  did  not  play  so  strong  a  game  as  on  the 
previous  day  and  was  3  down  on  the  first  nine  holes. 
The  first  hole  was  halved,  the  second  won  by  Mrs. 
Warner,  who  was  1  up ;  the  third  went  to  Miss 
Armsby,  making  hte  score  all  even.  The  fourth  was 
taken  by  Mrs.  Warner,  making  her  1  up;  the  fifth 
was  halved ;  the  sixth,  seventh  and  eighth  were 
won  by  Mrs.  Warner,  making  her  4  up;  the  ninth 
was  taken   by   Miss   Armsby,   leaving   Mrs.   Warner  3 


;o 


WESTERN   I 


On  the  Nine  Hole  Putting  Course.  Del  Monte 


up  at  the  turn.  In  the  second  round  Miss  Armsby 
won  the  tenth,  lost  the  eleventh,  Mrs.  Warner 
still  being  3  lip;  Mi«s  Armsby  won  the  twelfth, 
halved  the  thirteenth,  won  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth,  making  the  match  all  square.  Miss  Arms- 
by won  the  sixteenth,  making  her  1  up,  halved  the 
seventeenth,  making  her  1  up  and  1  to  go.  Miss 
Armsby  won  the  eighteenth  and  the  match  2  up. 
The  scores,  hole  by  hole,  follow: 
Out: 


Miss    Armsby  6  7     6 

Mrs.    Warner  7  6   10 

In: 

Miss    Armsby  7  7     5 


9     8 
7     9 


6   10 
5     8 


5     4—61 
5     6—63 


5 


4 — 44 

Mrs.    Warner    11     6     7     6     4     7     7     6     8—62 

On  the  afternoon  of  Thursday,  the  4th,  there  was 
no  competition  on  the  golf  course,  the  contests  for 
the  Del  Monte  Cups  being  finished  and  the  golfers 
wishing  to  view  the  automobile  races.  On  Friday 
morning,  the  5th,  six  couples  took  part  in  the 
Handicap  Mixed  Foursomes  over  eighteen  holes, 
medal  play,  the  results  being  as  follows: 
Handicap  Mixed  Foursomes. 
Friday.  July  5. 


Players 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Mrs.  Loeser  and  R.  E.  Allardice  . . 
Miss  Armsby  and    R.    M.  Loeser 
Mrs.  Warner  andDr.E.  E.  Baker 
Miss  Morgan  and  A.  W,  Splivalo.. 
Miss  G.  Harvev  and  J.  Parrott  Jr. 
Miss  Bourn  and  Douglas  Grant. . . 

114 
% 
99 

124 
125 

20 
6 

11) 
19 
15 
12 

94 
90 

8" 
105 
110 

87 

who  captured  the  prizes  presented  by  the  Pacific 
Improvement  Company,  Miss  Bourn  winning  a  silver 
flower  vase  and  Douglas  Grant  a  silver  filigree 
liqueur    decanter. 

The  Consolation  event,  over  thirty-six  holes,  medal 
score,  for  men  who  did  not  reach  the  final  round 
of  the  competition  for  the  Del  Monte  Cup,  brought 
out  five  competitors,  whose  scores  were  as  follows: 

Men's  Consolation  Handicap:     Thirty-Six  Holes. 


Competitors. 


J.  Parrott.  Jr.... 
Admiral  Trilley . 
Dr.  E.E.Baker. 
Douglas  Grant.. 
K.  M.  Loeser... 


First 

Sn  nnd 

Gros 

Handi- 

Round 

Round 

cap 

80 

76 

156 

0 

91 

94 

185 

28 

91 

82 

173 

S 

79 

0 

94 

*.. 

24 

As    shown    in    the    above    table,    the    lowest    score 
was    returned    by    Miss    Bourn    and    Douglas    Grant, 


*No  returns. 

The  Consolation  Handicap  over  eighteen  holes  for 
those  who  did  not  reach  the  final  round  of  the 
competition  for  the  Del  Monte  Cup  for  women  took 
place  on  Monday  morning,  July  8,  between  Miss 
E.  A.  W.  Morgan  (handicap  18)  and  Mrs.  R.  M. 
Loeser  (handicap  16).  Miss  Morgan  received  two 
strokes.  Mrs.  .Loeser  went  out  in  67,  the  first  and 
fifth  holes  costing  her  eleven  strokes  each,  but  came 
in  in  45,  making  a  total  of  112.  Miss  Morgan 
went  out  in  68,  the  third  hole  costing  her  ten  and 
the  seventh  hole  twelve  strokes,  she  came  in  in  55, 
making  a  gross  of  123,  less  2  {the  difference  between 
her  handicap  and  that  of  Mrs.  Loeser,  net  121.  Mrs. 
Loeser  won  the  Consolation  Handicap  trophy,  a 
handsome  bright  silver  flower  vase. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


71 


The  regular  weekly  contest  over  eighteen  holes, 
medal  play,  in  the  Continuous  Tournament  for 
women  took  place  on  Saturday  morning,  July  6, 
the  competitors  being  Miss  Maud  Bourn,  Mrs.  H.  R. 
Warner  and  Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser.  who  received  12 
strokes  each.  Miss  E.  A.  W.  Morgan  and  Miss 
Hazel  King,  each  of  whom  received  24  strokes.  Miss 
Cornelia  W.  Armsby  was  the  scratch  player,  but  the 
counter-attraction  of  a  picnic  drew  her  away  from 
the   golf   links.     The   scores   were   as   follows : 

Women's  Continuous  Handicap:  Sixth  Contest. 


Competitors 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

112 
122 
123 
152 

168 

'12 
14 
12 
12 
24 

ins 

Mrs.  U.K.  Warner 

III 

1411 

Miss  Hazel  King 

14* 

by   the  above  table 
tier,   this  being  her 


R.   M.    Loeser 
victory. 


The  regular  fall  tournament  will  be  held  on  the 
Del  Monte  golf  course  September  2nd  to  8th.  The 
programme  will  include  handicap  match  play  com- 
petitions for  the  Del  Monte  Cup  for  Men  and  for 
the  Del  Monte  Cup  for  Women;  Handicap  Mixed 
Foursomes  and  Consolation  Handicaps  for  Men  and 
Women.  Other  events  will  be  added,  if  the  golfers 
present    desire   to    take   part    in    them. 

The  management  of  the  Hotel  Del  Monte  pro- 
poses to  have  a  carnival  of  sports  during  the  first 
two  weeks  of  September.  It  is  expected  that  there 
will  be  a  lawn  tennis  tournament  and  polo  matches 
and  that  the  automobihsts  will  be  induced  to  make 
another  run  to  Del  Monte.  It  is  hoped  that  Miss 
May  Sutton,  now  lawn  tennis  champion  of  Great 
Britain,  her  sister,  Miss  Florence  Sutton,  and  other 
strong    players    may    take    part    in    the    lawn    tennis 


By  ARTHUR   INKERSLEY. 


-jN  ORDER  to  encourage  golfing  during 
the  Summer,  the  management  of  the 
Hotel  Del  Monte  decided  to  offer 
trophies  for  men  and  women,  to  be 
competed  for  in  Continuous  Handi- 
cap Tournaments  during  June,  July 
and  August.  Each  week  on  Saturday 
the  woman's  event  to  take  place  in 
the  morning  and  the  men's  event 
in  the  afternoon,  both  being  over 
eighteen  holes,  medal  play.  The 
winner  of  each  weekly  contest  to  have 
his  or  her  name,  with  the  date,  engraved  on  the 
first  trophy,  which,  at  the  close  of  the  series  of 
competitions,  is  to  become  the  property  of  the 
player  who  shall  have  won  the  greatest  number  of 
weekly  victories.  If  two  or  more  competitors  in 
either  tournament  shall  win  an  equal  number  of 
victories,  the  tie  is  to  be  played  off  over  eighteen 
holes,  medal  score.  The  winner  in  the  play-off  will 
capture  the  principal  trophy  and  the  player  return- 
ing the  next  best  score  will  receive  the  second 
trophy.  If  no  tie  results,  the  player  winning  the 
second  largest  number  of  victories  in  the  weekly 
contests  will  receive  the 


ond  trophy.    Any  amateur 
the  tournaments, 
the    Ladies'    Continuous 

held    on    Saturday    morn- 


golfer  is  eligible  to  play 
The  first  competition 
Handicap  Tournament  w; 
ing,  June  1,  the  competitors  being  Miss  E.  A.  W. 
Morgan  and  Mrs.  H.  R.  Warner,  who  volunteered  to 
set  the  ball  rolling.  Miss  Morgan  won  with  a 
score  of  63  out,  76  in,  total  139,  Mrs.  Warner's 
score  being  70  out,  84  in,  total  154.  Miss  Morgan's 
name  was  the  first  engraved  on  the  handsome  bright 
silver  water-pitcher  presented  by  the  Pacific  Improve- 
ment Company.  Miss  Morgan  began  to  play  golf 
soon  after  the  San  Francisco  Golf  Club  established 
its     course     on     the     Military      Reservation      at    the 


Presidio  and  was  at  that  time  one  of  the  strong 
women  players,  but  for  a  long  period  she  gave  up  the 
game  and  has  only  lately  resumed  it. 

The  second  competition  took  place  on  Saturday 
morning,  June  8th,  the  players  being  Miss  Morgan, 
Mrs.  Warner  and  Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser.  Mrs.  Warner 
won  with  a  score  of  66  out,  57  in,  total  123;  Mrs. 
Loeser  being  the  best  possible  second  with  64  out, 
60  in,  total   124;   Miss  Morgan  making  no  returns. 

The  third  competition  took  place 
morning,  June  15,  and  brought  out  fiv 
In  the  first  two  contests  no  handicaps  were  given, 
the  number  of  competitors  being  so  small  and  their 
strength  being  considered  about  equal.  In  the  third 
competition  Miss  Cornelia  W.  Armsby  (who  in 
September  of  last  year  was  going  round  the  course 
under  100),  Mrs.  Warner  and  Mrs.  Loeser  played 
from  scratch,  while  Miss  Morgan  received  four  and 
Mrs.  Arthur  Lord  twelve  strokes.  The  results 
were   as   follows: 


Saturday 
mpetitors. 


Ladies'  Continuous  Handica 
June  15. 


Third  Contest; 


c 

oaipetitors 

Out 

In 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Miss 

Armsby.. . . 

60 

57 

117 

0 

117 

Mrs 

Warner 

63 

61 

124 

0 

124 

Miss 

Morgan 

66 

63 

129 

4 

125 

Mrs 

73 

55 

12S 

0 

128 

Mrs 

81 

86 

167 

18 

149 

the 
Oi 


shown   by  the   above  table,    Miss   Armsby   was 

Saturday  morning,  June  22,  six  ladies  took 
part  in  the  fourth  weekly  competition,  Mrs.  Lord 
dropping  out  but  Miss  Foster  (Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser's 
sister)  and  Miss  Warner  coming  in.  The  results  are 
shown  in  the  table : 


72 


WESTERN  FIELD 


l|  -   II  \m.i,    U 
SATURDAi    Ii  ni  --' 


riiton 

In 

Handl 

N.  I 

Mrs. 
Slits 
Miss 
Mrs 
Miss 
Miss 

E    \   \\    Morgan 
II   R   Warnei 
Fostei  

SS 

60 
65 
62 

7> 

:; 

62 

75 
77 

117 

l<>, 

1.4 
148 
154 

12 

ii 
III 
8 

is 

116 
110 

i  6 
124 

i  r. 

Loeser  was  the 


As   -hown  in  the  above  table   Mr 
winner  of  the  fourth  contest. 

The  fifth  weekly  contest  in  the   Ladies'  Conl 
Handicap  took  place  on   Saturday   morning,  June   29, 
live  ladies  competing,  with  the  following  results: 

Ladies'  Continuoi  -  H  msdm  \r 

Fifth  I  I  kday.  Junk  29. 


CoBpetitori 

Out 

In 

i  iross 

Handi 
cap 

V  l 

Miss  Warner 

M  BS  Armsby 

Mrs.  Warner  

69 
60 

7H 
74 

59 

50 

54 

128 
110 
128 

128 

24 
0 
12 
12 

110 
116 
116 

As  shown  in  the  above  table,  Miss  Warner  won. 
Her  handicap  of  24  strokes  was  the  highest  given  in 
these  tournaments  and  was  based  on  her  score  of  154 
in  the  contest  of  the  previous  Saturday,  when  she 
played  in  a  tournament  for  the  first  time.  Miss 
Warner  improved  her  score  so  much  that  she  came  in 
an  easy  winner,  her  last  six  holes  being  done  in  5,  5, 
4,  4,  6  and  8,  total  32,  or  only  two  strokes  worse 
than  Miss  Armsby,  the  scratch  player,  who  returned 
7,   4,  4,  4,  6,   5,  total  30. 

The  five  ladies  who  during  the  month  of  June  won 
the  honor  of  having  their  names  engraved  on  the 
Handicap  Trophy,  were  Miss  E.  A.  W.  Morgan, 
Mrs.  H.  R.  Warner,  Miss  Cornelia  W.  Armsby,  Mrs. 
R.    M.   Loeser  and  Miss  Alice   M.   Warner. 

Xot  enough  men  being  on  hand  no  contests  were 
held  in  the  Men's  Continuous  Golf  Handicap  Tourna- 
ment during  June.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  the 
tournament  will  be  extended  so  as  to  cover  Septem- 
ber, thus  making  it  of  three  months'  duration.  The 
trophy  offered  by  the  Pacific  Improvement  Company 
to  the  player  who  wins  the  greatest  number  of 
victories  during  the  period  of  the  tournament  is  a 
handsome  two-handled  cup  of  hammered  silver,  as 
shown  in  the  accompanying  photograph.  The  man 
who  wins  the  second  largest  number  of  victories 
will   receive  a  sliver  trophy. 

Every  Wednesday  afternoon  during  June  a  Ladies' 
Putting  Contest  was  held,  either  on  the  "Clock 
Green"  or  on  the  9-Hole  Putting  Course  near  the 
Club  House.  The  first  of  these  took  place  on 
Wednesday  afternoon,  June  5,  the  four  competitors 
making  two  rounds  apiece  of  the  "Clock".  Mrs. 
R.  M.  Loeser  won  with  24,  27,  total  51 ;  Mrs.  H.  R. 
Warner,  29,  23,  total  52,  tying  with  Mrs.  Clinton 
E.  Worden,  27,  25,  total  52;  and  Miss  E.  A.  W. 
Morgan's  score  being  27,  29,  total  56.  Mrs.  Loeser 
won  a  golf  club.  Though  the  winner  did  three  holes 
in  one  stroke  apiece  on  her  first  round,  the  best 
single  round  was  Mrs.  Warner's  second  (23),  the 
eleventh  hole  costing  one  stroke  and  all  the  rest  two 
strokes. 

On  Wednesday  afternoon,  June  12,  five  ladies  took 
part  in  the  second  Putting  Contest — two  rounds  of 
the  "Clock  Green".  Miss  Morgan  24,  28,  total  52, 
tied  with  Mrs.  Warner,  25,  27,  total  52;  Miss 
Armsby's   score   was   27,    27,   total    54;    Mrs.    Loeser 


Trophy  Presented  by  Pacific  Improvement  Co. 
Men's  Continuous  Handicap 

returned  27,  29,  total  56;  and  Mrs.  Clinton  E. 
Worden's  score  was  30,  27,  total  57.  In  playing  off 
the  tie  over  one  round  Miss  Morgan  won  with  26 
against  Mrs.  Warner's  27. 

The  contest  on  Wednesday,  June  19,  consisted  of 
two  rounds  of  the  Nine-Hole  Putting  course,  there 
being  eight  competitors,  whose  scores  were  as  follows : 

Ladies'  Putting  Contest. 
Wednesday  Afternoon.  June  IV. 
Two  Rounds  of  Nine-Hole  Green. 


Competito.s" 

IstRd. 

2d.  Rd. 

Total 

23 

25 

25 
26 
15 
26 
28 

22 
26 
25 
26 
25 
27 
26 

45 

48 

50 

51 

51 

52 

52 

53 

As  shown  above,  Miss  Armsby  won  by  a  margin 
of  three  strokes  from  her  nearest  competitor,  Mrs. 
Warner,  whose  best  round  was  equal  to  Miss 
Armsby's  best. 

On  Wednesday,  June  26,  eight  ladies  took  part  in 
the  fourth  Putting  Contest,  which  consisted  of  two 
rounds  of  the  "Clock  Green".  Miss  Armsby  again 
proved  the  winner,  her  score  being  24,  22,  total  46. 
The  scores  of  the  other  competitors  were  as  follows: 

Mrs.   R.   M.   Loeser,  27,  22,  total  49. 

Mrs.    Weston,   28,   23,   total    51. 

Mrs.    Warner,   27,   24,   total    51. 

Miss    Morgan,   26,   26,  total   52. 

Miss  Warner,  26,  27,  total   53. 

Miss   Cotter,   29,  24,  total   53. 

Mrs.   Williamson,   29,  31,  total  60. 


DOG 


NO  RIGHT  TO  THE  NAME 


WRITER  in  the  American 
Field  asks:  "Does  the  bench 
show  Llewellin  no  longer 
exist?"  In  the  first  place 
"Llewellin"  is  a  misnomer  as 
applied  to  English  setters.  A 
few  years  after  the  dogs 
purchased  from  Mr.  Llewellin, 
and  their  descendants,  had 
done  nearly  all  of  the  win- 
ning by  setters  at  American  field  trials,  there 
arose  a  demand  for  some  name  by  which 
these  dogs  might  be  distinguished  from  our 
native  setters.  "Field-trial  Setters"  was  at 
first  suggested,  but  this  did  not  seem  to  fill 
the  demand,  so  Arnold  Burgess  suggested 
the  name,  "Llewellin  Setter".  As  the  dogs 
had  principally  come  from  Llewellin's 
kennels,  the  name  was  adopted.  This  was 
soon  followed  with  an  edict  from  some  one 
that  only  dogs  coming  from  the  Llewellin 
kennels  and  their  descendants  should  receive 
this  name.  Dogs,  therefore,  that  were  of 
exactly  the  same  breeding  were  tabooed  as 
not  straight  bred  Llewellins,  for  the  very 
foolish  reason  that  they  did  not  come  from 
his  kennels  or  were  not  descended  on  both 
sides  from  dogs  that  did. 

But  the  greatest  inconsistency  in  the 
adoption  of  this  name  was  found  in  the  fact 
that  the  dogs  so  named  were  bred  in  various 
ways.  Gladstone,  for  instance,  was  half 
Laverack  and  by  a  sire  by  Duke  out  of 
Rhoebe.  Count  Noble  was  by  Count  Wind- 
'em — a  three-quarter  Laverack — out  of  Nora, 
a  half  Laverack  and  half  Duke — Rhoebe, 
making  him  five-eights  Laverack  and  three- 
eights  Duke — Rhoebe.  Rahe  was  by  Dan 
(Duke — Rhoebe)  out  of  Ruby  and  she  by 
Fred  (Lavereack)  out  of  Rhoebe.  He  was 
therefore  one-quarter  Lavereack,  one- 
quarter  Duke  blood  and  half  Rhoebe  blood. 


Carlowitz  was  bred  by  Llewellin,  yet  he  was 
a  pure  Laverack,  but  under  this  rule  he  too 
must  be  classed  as  a  Llewellin. 
Waddingon's  Daisy  was  by  Carlowitz 
out  of  True.  Carlowitz  was  bred  by  Llewel- 
lin, and  True  was  by  Llewellin's  Prince  out 
of  Dora,  making  her  three-fourths  Lave- 
rack. Still  under  the  rule  she  was  a  Llewel- 
lin. Rederick,  imported  from  Llewellin's 
kennels,  was  one-fourth  Duke-Rhoebe  and 
three-fourths  Laverack.  Ruby  was  a 
Llewellin  because  he  owned  her.  She  was 
by  the  Laverack,  Fred  out  of  Rhoebe,  but 
Rob  Boy  a  full  brother  was  not,  because  he 
was  sold  to  Arnold  Burgess  by  Thos. 
Slatter  the  owner  of  Rhoebe.  Then  comes 
another  mixture  and  still  they  are  straight 
bred  Llewellins,  such  as  Dashing  Berwyn, 
Dashing  Model,  etc.  These  were  sired  by 
Llewellin's  Dash  II,  by  Prince  (Laverack) 
Dash  II,  out  of  Kate,  by  Graham's  Duke 
out  of  Corbett's  slut.  Now  Llewellin's 
Dash  II  had  more  of  the  Rhoebe  blood  that 
was  so  prominent  in  the  rest  of  his  dogs. 
So  that  when  we  find  that  a  Llewellin 
setter,  so-called,  can  be  one-fourth  Lave- 
rack, half  Laverack  or  three-fourths  Lave- 
rack and  the  rest  Duke-Rhoebe  or  with  the 
Rhoebe  blood  left  out  or  the  Duke  blood 
left  out,  it  naturally  leads  to  the  inquiry: 
what  was  this  Duke  and  this  Rhoebe  blood? 
Duke  was  by  Graham's  Duke  out  of 
Corbett's  slut.  The  sire  and  dam  of 
Graham's  Duke  was  Dart  and  Bess  and  this 
is  all  that  is  known  about  him.  The  sire  of 
Corbett's  Slut  was  Rollo,  and  nobody 
knows  who  was  her  dam.  Rhoebe  was  by 
Hackett's  Rahe  out  of  Slatter's-  Psyche. 
Hackett's  Rahe  is  fully  traced  for  two 
generations,  and  partially  for  several  more, 
but  Psyche,  according  to  the  English 
Kennel    Club's     stud     book     was     a    waif, 


WESTERN  FIELD 


ided  in  some  way  from  the  Gordon 
Castle  and  South  Esk  strains  of  setters. 
Later  a  pedigree,  a-  becomes  one  of  such 
fame,  has  been  found  for  her,  but  there  is 
no  certainty  of  its  authenticity.  At  any 
rate  Puke  and  Khocbe  were  from  two 
different  sources,  neither  of  which  have 
any  claim  to  purity  of  strain,  even  if  of 
blood. 

Mr.  Llewellin,  unquestionably,  deserves 
great  credit  for  producing,  or  what  is  better, 
for  introducing  into  America,  this  out- 
crossed  Laverack  setter.  The  Laverack 
setter  was  not  only  an  established  strain, 
but  it  had  been  kept  pure  within  itself  long 
enough,  and  bred  true  enough  to  type  to 
almost  entitle  it  to  be  called  a  breed.  It  is 
true  the  Laveracks  had  been  interbred  on 
false  theories  until  they  were  generally 
faulty  in  chest  and  shoulders.  But  in  spite 
of  this  nature  would  often  assert  itself,  and 
reverting  back  to  the  old  type,  produce  a 
Countess,  a  Nellie,  a  Phantom  and  others 
of  the  right  formation.  It  was  therefore  on 
the  pure  blood  of  the  Laverack  that  Llewel- 
lin built  his  foundation.  And,  whether  these 
Laveracks  were  crossed  onto  the  Duke- 
Rheobe  blood  or  onto  Duke  alone,  or 
Rhoebe  alone,  the  result  was  good,  because 
the  foundation  was  pure.  All  it  needed  was 
strengthening  by  some  outside  blood  on 
account  of  its  long  and  constant  inter- 
breeding on  false  theories.  It  was  strongly- 
prepotent  on  account  of  this  purity.  It  was 
this  prepotency  that  made  so  many  of  the 
early  crossbreeds  from  the  Llewellin 
kennels    handsome,   shapely,   and   well-built 


dogs.  It  is  this  prepotency  asserting  itself, 
after  years  of  the  most  reckless  interbreed- 
ing, that  v; i  \  (■-  an  occasional  well-made, 
handsome  dog  even  at  this  late  day. 

The  so-called  Llewellin  is  not  entitled  to 
the  name  even  as  a  strain,  for  they  have 
not  yet  reached  that  point  where  they  have 
established  a  type  by  which  they  can  be 
identified,  beyond  generally  an  apple  head, 
short  nose  and  snipy  muzzle.  But  even  this 
is  not  constant,  for  good,  clean,  shapely 
heads  are  often  seen,  as  the  individual 
reverts  back  to  the  pure  blood  of  the 
Laverack.  With  the  present  system  of  in- 
terbreeding, with  the  one  idea  of  develop- 
ing speed,  the  bench-show  Llewellin  will 
soon  be  known  only  in  history.  And  what 
is  worse  it  will  not  take  much  more  than 
another  decade  to  completely  eradicate  all 
his  bird-sense  and  make  him  useless  as  a 
field  dog,  except  possibly  as  a  racing 
machine. 

The  English  setter  needs  a  new  Llewellin, 
not  to  undo  what  he  did,  but  to  undo  what 
foolish  fads  have  done  to  the  good  work  he 
began.  The  English  setter  needs  a  new 
Llewellin  to  make  another  outcross  onto 
some  strain  devoid  of  the  nervousness 
which  characterizes  our  dogs  of  today; 
something  with  more  brains  and  more 
substance,  more  desire  to  hunt  for  birds, 
and  sure  enough  to  handle  them  when 
found.  Something  built  on  the  lines  of  the 
true  English,  with  the  fine  intelligent  head 
and  speaking  eye,  and  with  a  conformation 
that  can  stand  a  day's  work. 


NEEDS  REVISING 


r  THE  late  San  Francisco 
show  a  prize  was  offered  for 
the  best  "field  dog"  and  the 
judge  awarded  it  to  Mallwyd 
Bob,  as  the  best  setter  or 
pointer  in  the  show.  Against 
this  decision  John  Golobeck 
has  filed  a  protest  with  the 
club.  I  am  not  aware  on  just 
what  grounds  the  protest  is 
made,  but  I  suppose  it  must  be  that  he 
thinks  there  were  better  field  dogs  in  the 
show  than  Mallwyd  Bob.  That  is,  dogs 
that  could  do  better  work  in  the  field.    On 


this  ground  the  protest  must  fall,  for  no 
judge  in  the  ring  can  form  any  idea  of  a 
dog's  work  in  the  field.  He  may  easily-  form 
an  estimate  of  the  dog's  ability  to  cover 
ground  fast  and  wide  and  stay  at  his  work 
for  a  day's  shooting,  but  the  dog  might  be 
unbroken  and  therefore  useless  in  the  field.  , 
Just  so  long  as  bench  show  committees 
will  offer  such  foolish  prizes,  just  so  long 
will  there  be  trouble.  The  best  field  dog, 
from  a  bench  show  standpoint,  is  the  most 
typical  setter,  pointer  or  spaniel,  and  even 
hounds,  beagles,  and  harriers  might  be  in- 
cluded   in    the    list.      In    the    eyes    of    the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


75 


sportsman  the  "best  field  dog"  would  be  the 
one  that  could  do  the  best  work  on  up- 
land game  birds;  but  in  order  for 'a  bench 
show  committee  to  have  this  determined 
they  would  have  to  take  the  competing 
dogs  to  trials  and  have  them  tested  on 
game  under  competent  judges.  Prizes  like 
the  one  causing  the  protest  should  be  more 
definitely  worded,  so  that  they  can  be 
decided   in   the  judging   ring. 

While  speaking  of  this  matter  I  want  to 
call  the  attention  of  the  show  committees 
to  another  kind  of  prize  that  bench  shows 
are  offering  that  will  soon  result  in  doing 
harm  to  the  shows.  I  refer  to  the  prize 
for  field  trial  dogs.  First,  in  making  the 
class  or  classes  do  not  put  setters  and 
pointers  together.  No  judge  can  in- 
telligently judge  a  dog  of  one  breed  against 
one  of  another  breed;  secondly,  make  the 
classes  for  dogs  that  "have  been  placed  in 
a  field  trial",  not  that  have  merely  been 
entered  or  started.  The  owners  of  good 
field  trial  winners  will  soon  tire  of  patroniz- 
ing shows  if  their  dogs  are  to  compete  with 
anything  that  may  "have  been  entered".  At 
best  the  expediency  of  making  field  trial 
classes  for  bench  shows  is  very  doubtful. 
Therefore  show  committees,  if  they  desire 
the  patronage  of  the  field  trial  men,  should 
be  very  careful  to  place  such  restrictions  on 


the  entries  as  will  meet  with  the  approval 
of  field  trial  men. 

While  there  are  an  abundance  of  setters 
and  pionters  in  California  these  breeds  are 
generally  found  in  very  limited  numbers  at 
the  shows,  and  the  reason  for  it  is  that  the 
bird  dog  men  are  quite  generally  of  the 
opinion  that  bench  shows  do  the  field  dog 
interest  far  more  harm  than  good.  Bad 
judging,  and  bad  handling  of  classes  and 
prizes  by  show  committees  has  had  a  strong 
influence  in  the  formation  of  this  opinion. 
Another  fruitful  source  of  the  creation  of 
this  opinion  is  getting  pet-dog  judges,  who 
never  saw  a  dog  at  work  on  birds  and  who 
have  not  the  faintest  idea  of  the  require- 
ments of  a  field  dog — in  the  way  of  speed, 
sudden  turning,  and  instantaneous  stopping — 
to  judge  these  dogs.  The  result  is  awards 
become  a  farce  and  dogs  that  are  impos- 
sibilities as  field  dogs  are  often  placed  to 
the  front,  like  was  the  case  with  both 
English  setters  and  pointers  at  the  San 
Francisco  show  two  years  ago. 

If,  therefore,  bench  show  committees 
want  to  win  back  the  field  dog  men  as 
patrons  of  the  shows,  they  must  give  them 
better  treatment  in  the  way  of  judges,  and 
use  more  discretion  in  the  making  of  classes 
and   offering  of  prizes. 


SHORT  BARKS. 


THE  Manitoba  field  trials  will  begin  on  September 
Sth,  with  a  derby,  all-age  and  champion  stake. 
Entries  closed  July  1,  for  the  derby  and  all-age. 
The  entries  for  the  champion  stake  closes  August  1st. 
The  Stockton  Kennel  Club  will  hold  a  show  in 
October.  From  present  indications  a  good  entry  is 
promised.  Stockton  has  always  been  a  good  point 
for  a  show,  and  those  visiting  the  city  have  always 
been  accorded  royal  treatment  by  the  Stockton 
fanciers — and  that  goes  a  long  way  in  drawing  entries 
from  the  outside. 

Oxford,  Pa.,  has  a  good  collie  story.  The  resi- 
dence of  a  Mr.  Beattle  was  discovered  by  the  dog  to 
be  on  fire,  and  as  he  could  not  wake  up  the  family, 
he  seized  the  rope  of  a  big  dinner  bell  that  was 
used  for  summoning  the  farm  hands  to  dinner,  and 
jerked  it  so  fiercely  that  he  woke,  up  the  neighbor- 
hood. 

The  overtures  made  by  the  A.  K.  C.  clique  looking 
to  a  peaceful  settlement  of  kennel  matters,  was 
nothing  more  than  the  usual  blub  which  these 
leaders  of  American  dogdom  are  so  ready  at  making. 


All  they  wanted  was  to  gain  more  time  to  entrench 
themselves  in  their  hold  on  the  money  and  property 
belonging  to  the  fanciers  of  America.  When  the 
Ashland  House  committee  called  the  little  bluff  and 
showed  their  readiness  to  leave  the  whole  matter 
of  settlement  to  a  referee,  the  self-important  president 
of  the  illegal  incorporation  flatly  refused  to  submit 
any  of  his  acts  to  the  decision  of  anyone  but  himself 
and  his  henchmen,  so  the  matter  will  now  go  to  the 
courts. 

At  the  best  it  will  be  a  long  drawn  out  suit,  for 
the  usurpers  have  some  $21,000  of  the  people's 
money  and  will  spend  every  cent  of  it  rather  than  be 
defeated  in  their  designs.  Possibly  the  only  good 
thing  in  the  whole  affair  is  that  the  trickery  of  the 
schemers  will  be  published  to  the  world,  thus  en- 
abling the  fanciers  generally  to  learn  what  kind  of 
men  they  have  been  truckling  to  for  so  many  years. 
It  is  about  time,  too,  that  the  eyes  of  many  are 
opened  to  the  disgraceful  manner  in  which  the  kennel 
affairs  of  America  have  been  ru/i. 

The  following  from  the  pen  of  Washington  A. 
Coster,   published   in   the   Sportsman's   Review,   shows 


76 


WESTERN  FIELD 


that  I  am  not  the  only  old  hand  at  the  game  that 
rcalirr*  the  folly  «■*  the  present   ijsteni  of  field  trial 

judging.  IVw  mm  now  living  have  had  greater  or 
longer  experience  with  field  dogl  than  Mr.  Coster, 
or  arc  better  qualified  to  pftN  an  opinion  00  this 
foolish    f.ui    now   dominating   field   trial   competition. 

PrOltl  the  wraith  of  his  long  experience  comes  the 
is  nothing  more  than  an- 
other name  for  retrogression  in  the  development  of 
the  field   dog.      Read   what   he  says: 

"About  a  month  or  so  ago  I  received  a  letter 
from  a  brother  sportsman  in  regard  to  some  doggy 
data,  which  I  very  much  regret  was  not  returned  as 
complete  as  I  should  have  desired,  but  I  sent  the 
best  in  the  house,  and  I  yet  trust  it  will  serve  the 
purpose.  After  reading  this  pleasurable  epistle  over 
the  second  time  something  caught  my  eye  that  set 
me  to  thinking.  Here  is  the  paragraph  that  caused 
my   unrest. 

"  'Crossed  on  a  well  bred  bitch,  each  about  five 
years  old  (relating  to  sire  and  dam),  three  dogs  were 
produced,  that  had  they  not  been  trained  for  shoot- 
ing dogs,  and  slowed  up,  might  have  made  field 
trial   winners.' 

"Now,  this  coming  from  an  intelligent,  experienced 
sportsman,  residing  on  the  broad,  wide,  open  prairie, 
where  boundaries  are  practically  limitless  and  the 
vision  unobstructed  for  miles,  in  addition  to  seeing 
crack  field  trialers  in  preparation,  where  the  com- 
parison was  practical  and  of  value,  the  question 
arises,  after  giving  this  due  and  deliberate  thought  : 
does  the  present  field  trials  as  run  under  up-to-date 
requirements  tend  to  produce  a  sportsman's  shoot- 
ing dog,  or  simply  a  dog  you  can  shoot  over? 

"Certainly  the  paragraph  quoted  is  simply  a  case 
of  'Out  of  the  fulness  of  the  heart,  the  mouth  speak- 
eth,"  for  here  is  a  gentleman  you  would  all  admit — 
should  I  mention  name — is  qualified  from  experience, 
conditions  and  surroundings  to  pass  an  opinion  of 
weight.  I  fully  appreciate  his  freedom  from  all 
jealousy  or  envy,  his  only  motive  for  the  criticism 
being  actuated  by  the  spirit  of  true  sportsmanship — 
pure  and  simple.  Now,  if  the  craze  to  increase 
speed  in  the  trialer,  at  the  expense  of  pointing  and 
staunchness,  or  what  may  be  termed  bird  work,  is 
the  road  to  perfection,  why  should  three  embryo 
field  trial  candidates,  born,  brought  up,  educated  on 
the  prairie,  be  slowed  down  for  shooting,  thus  meet- 
ing the  requirements  of  the  gentleman's  shooting 
dog? 

"This  is  not  written  in  a  captious  view,  but  for 
information,  for  I  am  seeking  light  like  all  students 
who  are  deeply  and  seriously  interested  in  their 
study.  It  certainly  seems  strange  that  we  should 
work  to  perfect  a  creature  to  a  certain  point  of  per- 
fection, then  for  practical  purposes  cut  link  by  link 
from  this  chain  in  retrocession  that  caused  so  much 
time  and  expense  to  forge.  There  is  a  point  where 
the  level-headed,  prudent  and  common  sense  man 
will  stop.  The  other  man — politeness  demanding  his 
designation  be  omitted — jumps  ahead  or  stops  behind 
the  point. 

"Now,  the  question  is,  which  shall  act  as  the 
standard  bearer  for  the  rank  and  file  to  follow,  or 
shall  we  separate — as  in  the  past  and  present — some 
following  one  standard  and  some  another,  and  some 
just  bushwhacking.  I  don't  believe  this  sort  of 
legislation  is  productive  of  good  for  the  many,  or 
education    on    the    right    lines.      Some    may    call    it 


progress,  I  don't.  I  call  it  retrogration.  I  should 
very  much  like  to  see  a  little  more  unity.  I  fully 
tr-  that  every  section  requires  the  objects  to 
dovetail  in  local  conditions  to  produce  the  best 
results,  and  the  point  I  am  taking  exceptions  to  it 
the    exm  initiation    to    force    his    standard 

on    all    -is  the  real  thing  in   dogs,  all   others  being  no 
COUlltS,   plugs,   muts,   etc.,   etc. 

Mr.  Thos.  S.  Griffith,  of  Spokane,  has  been  doing 
a  land  office  business  in  collies  recently,  he  having 
sold  twenty-seven  dogs  of  this  breed  during  the 
month  of  April.  This,  too,  is  another  evidence  of 
the   increasing  popularity   of  the   collie  on   the   Coast. 

Messrs.  Elmer  Cox,  E.  Courtney  Ford,  J.  E. 
Terry  and  S.  Christensen  have  combined  in  fur- 
nishing W.  B.  Coutts  a  fine  string  of  performers  to 
be  taken  through  the  Northwestern  field  trial  cir- 
cuit. Among  the  lot  are  some  of  the  best  of  last 
year's  performers,  and  with  such  a  string  the  irre- 
pressible Scotchman  should  be  able  to  render  a  good 
account. 

The  Airedale  terrier  has  now  become  the  fashion, 
and  is,  therefore,  in  great  demand  with  those  fanciers 
of  the  East,  whose  love  of  the  dog  seems  only  to  be 
confined  to  a  desire  to  be  fashionably  in  the  fancy. 
This  suddenly  bringing  of  the  Airedale  to  fadism's 
front,  reminds  me  of  a  young  lady's  remark  upon 
first  beholding  a  very  young  donkey.  After  taking 
in  mentally  all  its  "points,"  she  remarked:  "Well, 
it's  so  abominably  ugly  that  one  can't  help  but  ad- 
mire  its  pretty   ugliness." 

Field  and  Fancy  says:  "Do  you  know  that  some 
certified  pedigrees  are  works  of  'art'?"  Certainly, 
and  in  the  A.  K.  C.  stud  book  can  be  found  plenty 
of  them  right  from  the  brush  of  the  "old  masters." 

OFFICIAL  announcement  is  made  by  Thomas 
S.  Griffith,  president  of  the  Spokane  Kennel 
Club,  that  entries  for  the  fourth  annual  dog. 
show  to  be  given  September  25th  to  28th,  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Spokane  Interstate  Fair,  September 
23d  to  October  3d,  will  close  September  16th,  when 
A.  B.  Jackson,  secretary,  will  allot  spaces.  Mr. 
Jackson  will  also  be  superintendent  of  the  show. 
Pacific  Coast  clubs  and  exhibitors  should  communi- 
cate with  J.  P.  Norman,  Berkeley,  Cal.,  secretary  of 
the  Pacific  advisory  committee.  The  rules  of  the 
American  Kennel  Club,  of  which  the  Spokane  or- 
ganization is  a  member,  will  govern.  The  bench 
show  committee  is  composed  of  Mr.  Griffith,  Mr. 
Jackson  and  C.  D.  Bond,  who  also  compose  the 
board   of  directors. 

In  addition  to  the  awards  to  be  made  by  the  fair 
association  the  club  will  offer  these  cash  prizes 
to  handlers: 

For  handler  showing  the  largest  string  of  dogs 
from  California,  $2f>;  for  largest  string  from  British 
Columbia.  $20;  for  largest  string  from  Washington, 
outside  Spokane,  $20;  for  largest  string  from  Ore- 
gon, $20.  No  less  than  ten  dogs  can  be  exhibited 
to  get  in  the  money. 

Silver  medals  will  be  awarded  to  first  and  bronze 
medals  to  second  prize  winners  in  all  classes.  Other 
awards   will  be  as  follows :      Reserve,  very  high  com- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


77 


mended,  highly  commended  and  commended,  and 
there  will  be  special  trophies  in  various  classes,  also 
prizes   for   decorated   kennels. 

These  classes  will  be  open.  Bloodhounds,  maS= 
tiffs,  St  Bernard  (rough  coated);  St.  Bernard  (smooth 
coated);  Newfoundlands,  Russian  wolfhounds  (Bor- 
zois) ;  deerhounds,  greyhounds,  foxhounds  (Ameri- 
can) ;  pointers,  English  setters,  Gordon  setters,  Irish 
setters,  Chesapeake  Bay  dogs,  Irish  water  spaniels, 
field  spaniels,  cocker  spaniels  (black),  not  over  24 
pounds;  cocker  spaniels  (parti-colored),  not  over  24 
pounds;  cocker  spaniels  (any  solid  color  other  than 
black),  not  over  24  pounds;  dachshunds,  collies 
(sable  and  white);  collies,  old  English  sheep  dogs 
(bob  tails)  ;  poodles,  chows  (Chinese  dogs)  ;  Dalma- 
tians, bulldogs,  Airesdale  terriers,  bull  terriers, 
French  bulldogs,  Boston  terriers,  fox  terriers  (smooth 
coated)  ;  fox  terriers  (wire  haired)  ;  Irish  terriers, 
Scottish  terriers,  skye  terriers,  Bedlington  terriers, 
black    and    tan    (Manchester)    terriers;    Pomeranians, 


English  toy  spaniels,  Japanese  spaniels,  pugs,  York- 
shire terriers,  maltese  terriers,  toy  terriers,  under 
seven  pounds;  Italian  greyhounds  and  a  miscellaneous 
class  for  reorganized  breeds. 

Robert  H.  Cosgrove,  secretary  and  manager  of  the 
fair  association,  says  advises  already  to  hand  indicate 
that  the  dog  show  will  be  one  of  the  best  attended 
and  most  interesting  in  the  history  of  the  Inland 
Empire  of  the  Pacific  Northwest,  and  that  it  will  do 
more  than  anything  else  to  stimulate  an  interest  in 
high  bred   animals. 

"We  have  a  number  of  prize  winning  dogs  in  this 
part  of  the  country,"  he  added,  "and  this  show  should 
demonstrate  that  our  owners  are  doing  a  lot  to  get 
pure  strains  and  improve  breeds.  I  am  informed 
also  that  there  will  be  entries  from  various  parts  of 
the  Middle  West,  as  far  as  Illinois,  and  it  is  not  un- 
likely that  some  of  our  eastern  and  southern  friends 
will  show  us  what  they  have  to  offer  in  the  dog 
worlds." 


A  STATE   RECORD 

SOME  very  remarkable  shooting  was  done  by 
Mr.  Fred  Coleman,  with  a  genuine  A.  H.  Fox 
Gun,  at  the  shoot  of  the  Florist  Gun  Club,  on 
Saturday  last,  June  8th.  Mr.  Coleman  broke  174 
out  of  175  clay  pigeons  shot  at,  with  a  run  of  161 
straight,  which  we  believe  is  the  longest  straight 
run  ever  made  in  the  state  of  Pennsylvania.  Such 
shooting  as  this  is  the  most  convincing  argument  that 
can  be  given  of  the  wonderful  shooting  qualities  of 
the  A.  H.  Fox  Gun,  and  the  splendid  markmanship 
of  Mr.  Coleman. 

FOR   SPORT  IN  ANY  WEATHER 

THE  sportsman  on.  gunning  or  fishing  bent,  or 
for  that  matter,  on  any  outing  trip  under  any 
circumstances,  is  absolutely  independent  of  the 
weather  if  protected  by  Duxbak  Sportsmen's  Gar- 
ments. 

These  garments  are  made  of  soft,  closely  woven 
cloth,  light  tan  or  dead  grass  green  in  color.  (  No  oil 
or  rubber  is  used  in  its  manufacture,  but  it  is  made 
impervious  to  water  by  the  well-known  Cravenette 
Process,  and  is  the  only  sportmen's  clothing  so  pro- 
tected. 

Duxbak  Garments  not  only  "shed  water  like  a  duck's 
back,"  but  as  the  nature  of  the  fabric  permits 
thorough  ventilation,  they  are  thoroughly  comfor- 
table for  all  round  outing  wear,  in  sunshine  as  well 
as  rain.  They  are  soft,  smooth,  entirely  odorless, 
thoroughly  tailored  and  neat  in  appearance,  and  double 
stitched  throughout.  More  economical  than  rubber, 
and  as  thoroughly  comfortable  and  durable  as  any 
tailor-made   clothing. 

Duxbak  Garments  are  also  furnished  for  ladies' 
wear.  The  manufacturers — Bird,  Jones  &  Kenyon. 
10  Blandina  Street,  Utica,  N.  Y. — will  forward 
samples  of  material  and  catalogue  showing  half- 
tone cuts  of  garments  with  blanks  for  self-measure- 
ment. Sent  free  on  application.  A  perfect  fit  is 
guaranteed. 


THE    SOUTHERN   HANDICAP 

AT  THE  Southern  Handicap  tournament  held  at 
Richmond,  Va.,  May  8-10,  Gorge  S.  Mc- 
Carty  of  Philadelphia,  shooting  DuPont 
Smokeless,  won  the  trophy  and  first  money  of  the 
Southern  Handicap,  second  and  third  moneys  of  the 
same  event  were  also  won  by  shooters  who  used  Du- 
Pont Smokeless.  In  addition  to  the  above  the  shoot- 
ers using  the  same  powder  won  first,  second,  third 
and  fourth  Amateur  Averages  and  also  first,  second 
and   third    General    Averages. 

STATE   CHAMPIONSHIPS    OF    1907 

THE  win  of  any  ChampionshiD  is  always  some- 
thing to  be  proud  of  for  the  reason  that  in 
such  events  everybody  stands  on  the  same 
mark,  and  therefore  the  win  itself  is  very  significant. 
DuPont  Smokeless  has  now  to  its  credit  the  follow- 
ing State  Championships  won  during  the  current 
year: 

April  11 — Delaware  State  Championship,  won  by 
A.   B.   Richardson,   Dover,   Del. 

April  19 — Arkansas  State  Championship,  won  by  A. 
L.  Willis,  Pine  Bluff,  Ark. 

April  24-26 — Kans?s  State  Championship,  won  by 
Henry   Anderson,    Salina,    Kansas. 

May  16 — Illinois  Amateur  State  Championship,  won 
by  Ed.  Foust,  Warren,  Ind. 

May  28 — Iowa  Amateur  State  Championship,  won 
by  O.  N.   Ford,  Central  City,  la. 

June  5 — Ohio  Amateur  State  Championship,  won 
by  Dr.  J.  A.  Van  Fossen,  Columbus,  Ohio. 

June  6 — Ohio  State  Championship,  won  by  Jno.  R. 
Taylor,    Newark,    Ohio. 

June  6 — New  Jersey  Amateur  State  Championship, 
won  by  George   R.   Piercy,  Jersey   City,   N.   J. 

June  12 — Maryland  Amateur  State  Championship, 
won  by  V.  Jackson,   Colora,   Md. 

May  22 — West  Virginia  State  Championship,  won 
by  T.   H.  Niell,  Fairmont,  W.  Va. 

May  28-29 — Indiana  State  Championship,  won  by 
Ed.   Foust,  Warren,  Ind. 


:s 


WESTERN  FIELD 


r 


»» 


k 


Points  that  Make  the  A.  H.  Fox  Gun 

The  Finest  Gun  in  the  World" 


% 


J 


A  breech  mechanism  actually  employing  about  one-half  as  many  parts  as  are  used  in  other  nuns.  C0..0,. 
quently  a  less  complicated  action,  greater  simplicity,  added  strength  and  more  graceful  lines.  This  lessening 
ol  p.irts  permits  the  best  distribution  of  weight  and  creates  the  perfection  of  balance  which  makes  the 
.\.  H.  Fox  (iun  the  ideal  gun  for  field  or  trap  shooting.    Call  at  the  nearest  gun  shop  and  see  the  "Fox." 


A.  H.  FOX  GUN  CO.,  4652  North  18th  St.,  Philadelphia. 


J 


I 


ules 

Restaurant 


Caters  especially  to  Sports- 
men.     Fish    and    Game 
cooked  to  a  perfection 
attained     nowhere 
else  on  this  coast. 

Irreproachable  Service,  Moderate  Charges.  Private  Rooms 
Jules  ArVittmann, 

Proprietor 

PHONE  TEMPORARY  1812 

328    D\isK  Street 

Between     Kearny    and    Montgomery 


C.    A.    SLACK 


Hotel 


KjRK 


NEW 
MODERN    HOTEL 

OPPOSITE    ENTRANCE   TO   GOLDEN    GATE    PAP 

CONNECTING    BY    PRIVATE    ENTRANCE 

WITH    ARCADE    AUTO    I.IVERY 

GARAGE 


N.  E.  COR.  STANYAN  AND  HAIGHT  STS. 

SAN   FRANCISCO, 
CAL. 


When  writing  to  Advertisers  mention  this  Magazine. 


ADVERTISEMENTS 


79 


SOME    GOOD    BOOKS. 


O 


UR   book   table  thi: 


v.lun 


thi 


nth    holds 


These  are  "The  Reptile  Rook," 
"Gillett's   Social   Redemption"  and   '  Animal    Life." 

"The  Reptile  Book,"  bv  Raymond  L.  Oitmars, 
Curator  of  Reptiles,  i>Jew  York  Zoological  Pard,  is 
one  of  those  rare  productions  which  occasionally  ap- 
pear to  delight  the  hearts  of ,  sportsmen,  naturalists 
and  the  general  reading  public  alike.  We  do  not 
now  recall  a  work,  scientific  or  otherwise,  which 
contains  so  ■  many  exquisitely  reproduced  illustra- 
tions as  does  this.  Prof.  D  it  mar's  notable  latest  con- 
tribution to  the  world's  literature.  It  is  a  volume, 
invaluable  as  well  for  the  great  mass  of  splendidly 
written  text,  which  is  even  more  interesting  than 
the  illustrations  which  accompany  it.  Prof.  Ditmars 
has  the  gift — rare  among  scientists — of  clothing  the 
dry  bones  of  his  science  with  living,  breathing,  pal- 
pitating flesh  of  wonderful  beauty,  and  the  charrn 
and  value  of  his  writings  is  that  they  are  so  simple, 
lucid,  and  devoid  of  obscure  pedantry  that  a  ten- 
year-old  child  can  read  them  understands gly.  Not 
that  they  are  kindergarten  stories — far  from  that! 
They  embody  and  convey  everything  of  value  known 
to  science,  but  they  are  told  in  such  an  interesting 
and   delightfully  clear   way  that   they  appeal   to   all. 

The  book  contains  472  pages,  in  which  are  de- 
scribed, illustrated,  catalogued,  indexed  and  glossaried 
all  the  Snakes,  Lizards,  Crocodilians,  Turtles  and 
Tortoises.  Every  species  of  North  American 
poisonous  serpent  is  represented  by  photographs, 
excepting  two  of  small  importance  that  inhabit 
practically  inaccessible  parts  of  the   Colorado  Desert. 

It  goes  without  saying  that  the  matter  of  the 
volume  is  superlatively  accurate  and  every  statement 
is  authentic.  It  will  be  a  standard  authority  for  all 
time  and  should  be  in  the  Iibrarv  of  every  man  in 
this   country.      (Doubleday,   Page  &   Co.,   N.   Y.) 

"Gillette's  Social  Redemption"  is  of  another  type 
entirely,  but  is  a  book  of  enormous  value  to  every 
human'  being.  It  treats  of  questions  that  affect  not 
only  the  interests  of  individuals,  but  of  nations — the 
whole  world,   in   fact. 

It  is  an  evolutionary  work,  setting  forth  convinc- 
ingly and  at  great  length  a  plan  for  the  social  re- 
demption of  humanity,  originated  and  worked  out 
by  Mr.  King  C.  Gillette,  the  plan  being  ably  con- 
densed into  book  form  by  Mr.  Melvin  L.  Severy.  It 
contains  a  great  mass  of  valuable  statistical  matter 
and  an  expose  of  conditions  and  factors  that  today 
distract  the  economy  of  life.  While  the  present 
volume  is  rather  onlv  a  preparatory  introduction  to 
a  greater  still  to  follow,  it  outlines  in  brief  Mr.  Gil- 
lette's plan,  which  may  be  briefly  stated  to  be  a  new 
system  which   proposes   to  bring  about   the 


by    organi: 


orld-i 


tion    of    the 

poratlon  with  an  unlimited,  elastic  and  constantly 
self-adjusting  capitalization,  which  shall  always  rep- 
resent the  exact  amount  of  the  corporate  assets, 
falling  as  they  fall,  rising  as  they  rise,  a  scheme  in 
which  there  will  be  no  distinctions  known  in  race, 
color,  nationality,  social  condition,  age,  sex  or  occu- 
pation. 

We  have  not  the  space,  naturally,  to  give  even  a 
clear  impression  of  this  remarkable  project,  and 
must  refer  our  readers  to  the  book  itself,  which  is 
published    by     Herbert     B.     Turner    &    Co.,     Boston, 


"S 


PIRIT  LAKE,"  by  Arthur  Heming,  is  a  very 
charmingly  written  little  series  of  sketches, 
dealing  with  the  life,  occupations,  folk  lore, 
:.,  of  a  tribe  of  Ojibway  Indians.  The  book  shows 
certain  personal  acquaintance  with  the  aborigines 
whom  he  writes  and  is  a  very  acceptable  addition 
any   library.      (Macmillan    Co.,   N.  Y.) 


"T 


HE  Sportsm 
Crowell,  is 
compilation 
amenities  of  the  lii 
idle  hour  or  two  v 
in  every  page  and 
It  ought  to  be 
Outing  Pub.   C 


of  the"  fads,  fa 
strenuous,  an 
very  enjoyably. 
1  a  broad  laugh  i 
seller,  for  it  has  i 
Deposit,  N  .Y.) 


W.&J.SLOANE&CO. 


Complete  stock 

CARPETS 
ORIENTAL  RUQS 
FURNITURE 
DRAPERIES,  Etc. 


Sutter    and    Van   Ness 


0.  W.  NORDWELL 


TAILOR 


Desires  to  call  your  atten- 
tion to  his  New  and  Supe- 
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SCOTCH 


IMPORTATIONS 


PRESENT  LOCATION 


1812  Washington  St.,  neat  Van  Ness  Ave. 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CAL. 


When  writing  to  Advertisers  mention  this  Magazine. 


BO 


117  STERN  FIELD 


Grand  A  merican  Honors 

At  Chicago,  June   18-21,   1907: 

hirst  Professional  and  tie  for  first  place  In  the  Grand  A  merican  Handicap,  by 
Miles  J.  Maryott,  96  ex  100. 

sr,  ond  Mnateui  (tie)  In  I  irond  fcmerk  an  Handli  bp,  by  T.E.I  iraham,  95  ex  100. 

Third  (tir)  mi. i.iml  Kmerlcan  Handicap.  H  I    Poston.Wra  100 

hrvi  Professional  Average  (He),  I    I  Wade.99ex  100. 

Flrsl  kmateui  Average  (lie),  I    i>  Llnderman, 98  en  100 

So  ond  •\m.itriit  llirl  in  f'rrlinunar>  ll.indii  jp.   I.  K.  Oraham  .ind  T.  E.  Graham,  both  scoring 

.  100 
T>no  oul  olPivc  men  on  the  winning  i  hamplonshlp  ream,  i.  K.  Oraham  and  H.  M.  Clark. 
Third  (tie)  In  Amateur  I  hamplonshlp,  I  R  Oraham,  186  ex  200. 
Fourth  (lie.  In  Professional  I  hamplonshlp,  il   W.  Kahler,  186  ex  200. 

The  Above  Scoret  Attest  the  Superior  Shootlnz  Qualities  o, 


I  PETERS! 

FACTORY-LOADED 

SHELLS! 


<<T  HE  Use  of  the  .National  Forests,"  a  publica- 
tion just  printed  by  the  Department  of 
Agriculture,     is     a    brief,     clear     manual     for 

public    information    as    to    the    forest    policy    of    the 


'uc,  as  the  short  preface  to  the  public 
any  people  do  not  know  what  Nrtional 
Others  may  have  heard  much  about 
ve  no  idea  of  their  true  purpose  and 
object   of  this   publication   to   explain 


National   Go 

It    is    too 
says,  that  "l 
Forests    are. 
them,    but    h 
use.'* 


forests 


ector  and 
ange,  the 
resources, 
ended  for 
,  and  for 
nes;  how 
i  fire,  the 


just   what  the   National    Forests  "mean,   what   they   are 
for,  and  how  to  use  them. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  explained  hov 
are  created  and  how  their  boundaries 
Next,  their  direct  use  and  value  are  sho 
point  of  view  of  the  homeseeker,  the  pr 
miner,  the  user  of  timber,  the  user  of  tl 
user  of  water,  and  other  users  of  fore 
Third,  it  is  shown  how  the  forests  are 
use,  for  the  production  of  usable  produ 
the  establishment  and  maintenance  of 
on  all  of  them  the  timber  is  protected  f 
water  flow  is  kept  steady,  the  forage  on  the  range  is 
increased  and  guarded  from  abuse ;  and  how,  in 
addition,  they  serve  as  great  public  playgrounds  and 
as  breeding  places  and  refuges  for  game.  Finally, 
the  management  of  the  National  Forests  is  de- 
scribed. 

Here  it  is  that  the  great  usefulness  of  the  forests 
is  brought  out  most  clearly  and  strikingly;  for  the 
forests  are  managed  by  the  people  in  their  own  in- 
terests, and  every  means  is  used  to  meet  the  desires 
and  wants  of  all  forest  users  half  way  by  dealing 
with  them  in  the  main  directly  on  the  ground  and  in 
all  cases  with  the  utmost  practicable  dispatch  and 
freedom  from  red  tape. 

In  a  word,  the  special  interest  of  this  manual  lies 
in  its  showing  that  the  forest  policy  of  the  govern- 
ment, both  in  principle  and  in  practice,  is  for  the 
benefit  of  the  ordinary  man,  for  the  benefit  of  every 
citizen  equally.  There  is  still  a  tendency  to  think 
of  the  National  Forests  as  "preserves"  closed  to  use, 
and  to  leave  the  public  lands  exposed  to  unregulated 
individual     exploitation.       Where    these    misapprehen- 


sions still  prevail  "The  Use  of  the  National  Forests" 
will   go   far  to   correct   them. 

The  book  is  written  by  Mr.  Frederick  E.  Olmitetf, 
whose  intimate  knowledge  of  conditions  in  the  West 
and  the  policy  under  which  the  National  Forests  are 
managed  especiall  fits  him  to  deal  with  the  subject. 

"Instructions  for  the  Infantry  Private  of  the 
National  Guard,"  by  Captain  John  W-  Norwood, 
late  First  Lieutenant  Twenty-third  United  States 
Infantry,  is  the  title  of  a  little  book  of  much  value 
recently  published  by  the  Arms  and  the  Man  Pub- 
lishing' Co.,  299   Broadway,   New   York. 

The  National  Guard  today  is  composed  of  men 
willing  and  anxious  to  become  proficient  in  their 
duties,  but  opportunities  for  drill  and  instruction 
under  the  supervision  of  competent  officers  are 
necessarily  limited.  The  various  text-books  and 
regulations  require  a  certain  amount  of  technical 
knowledge  and  experience  for  the  proper  understand- 


ing of  them 
"Instruct! 
National  Gi 
sion  of  the 
the    private. 


s  for  the  Infantry  Private  of  the 
d"  enters  into  an  elementary  discus- 
ubjects  which  are  mdst  important  to 
It  treats  of  military  courtesy,  discip- 
of  the  service,  camp  duty,  and  guard 
duty  in  an  interesting  and  entertaining  way.  To 
the  important  subject  of  rifle  practice  much  space  is 
given.  The  appearance  of  the  book  at  the  present 
season  makes  it  of  special  value  for  those  about  to 
go  into  camp.  It  is  made  up  in  handy  book  form, 
completely    indexed    for    ready    reference. 

[E  Life  of  Animals,"  by  Ernest  Ingersoll,  is 
les  awav  from  the  stereotyped  cut  and 
ed  "natural  history"  caricatures  that  have 
for  ages  been  foisted  upon  a  gullible  public.  The 
volume  treats  of  the  mammals  of  the  world  and  is 
full  of  many  valuable  and  interesting  descriptions  of 
their  life  historv.  It  is  splendidly  illustrated,  written 
in  a  clear  colloquial  style,  and  will  be  read  with 
pleasure   bv   scientist   and   layman    alike. 

It  is  of  particular  value  to  the  younger  genera- 
tion of  students  who  will  come  to  regard  it  as  one 
of  their  best  text  books.     (The  Macmillan  Co.,  N.  Y.) 


"T 


When  writing  to  Advertisers  mention  this  Magazin 


SEPTEMBER  1907 


Western  Agencies  &  Manufacturing  Co. 


A.  J.  BURTON,  MGR. 

Manufacturers  of 

LEATHER     AND     CANVAS     SPORTING     GOODS. 

LEGGINS. 

BELTS.    TRAVELERS'    SAMPLE 

ROLLS. 

CASES.    AUTOMOBILE    TIRE 

COVERS.    ETC. 

Sois   Agents  for  • « p^  B  R  1  K  0 1  D ' '    The  best  artifinal 
leather  made.                                          Successor  to  PEGAMOID. 

Phone  Market  2427 

Office  and  Factory 

1785  15th  Street  near  Guerrero 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA. 

Still  Building  California  Made 


ELEVATORS 


In  Spite  of  the  Fire  and  the  "  Elevator  "  Trust 


STYLES 

Full  Automatic 

Electric 

Hydraulic 

Belt 

Automobile 

Builders'  Hoists 


NOW    RUNNING 

Alias  Building  (10  stories) Mission  St..  near  Second 

Western  Addition.  Masonic  Hall Fillmore  Street 

Refill  us  Apartments Pacific  Avenue,  near  Van  Ness 

Merchants'  Ice  and  C.  S.  Co Sansome.  near  Lombard 

Yolk  man  Building Jackson  Street,  near  Sansome 

(One  Hundred  of  our  Elevators  Burned.) 


Van  Emon  Elevator  Co. 

46=54  Natoma  St.  San  Francisco 

Our  eight  elevators  in  Mr.  H.  E.  Huntington's  "Pacific  Electric  (Railway)  Bldg." 
Los  Angeles,  Cal.,  we  refer  to  as  a  Model  Elevator  Installation. 


WESTERN  FIELD 

PUBLISHED  AT  GREATER  SAN  FRANCISCO.  CALIFORNIA 

Vol. 

11 

SEPTEMBER,    1907 

No.    2 

CONTENTS  OF  THIS    NUMBER 

Frontispiece— Wood  Engraving— "  On  the  Alert." 

Indian  Summer  (Vers.-) Marian  Phelps 

The  Virginia  Kail Bonny  cast  If  Dale 

The  Wooins  (Verse) Roy  Brazcl  Miller 

In  the  Drs   Grass Tom   Vcitch 

On  the  Old  Carson  Trail John  B.  Haas 

South  Coast  Shooting— Part  VIII— White-tail  De.-r "  Slillhunter" 

The  Forest    I  1  Harry   T.  Fee 

The  Canon     -  Verse \M.  Pauline  Scott 

Th,-  Desert  *  (.1/.   Watrous 

English  Sport.  Part  II— Grouse  Shooting R.  Clafham 

A  Hunter's  Story  of  Olden  Times '. Dr.  J.  Henry  Krent-mann 

Three  Days  With  Mt.  Baker Raglan  Glascock 

The  Old  Fireside  (Verse) : L.  A.   Wentworih 

Some  Curious  and  Little  Known  Animals— Part  II— Bats Lawrence  Ir-well 

The  Animal  Liar  (Verse) JV.  H    Crou-ell 

To  the  Frozen   El   Dorado— Part  I John  F   Suirrue 

In  the  Tree  Tops  (Verse) Mary    lam'han 

Sleeping  Out  of  Doors F.    W.  Reid 

Modern  Sporting  Ride , "Small  Arms" 

Tennis W.J.  Dai  ley 

Types  of  Setters H.T.  Payne 

1 7— DEPARTMENTS—  1 7 


LOOK       LOOK       LOOK 


...WON... 

First 

Second 

Third 

Fifth 

Sixth 

Seventh 

at  the  first  tournament  of  the 

Pacific  Coast  Trap  Shooters'   League 

Held  at  Ingleside,  San  Francisco 

February  22,  23,  24,  1906 

with 

Selby  Shells 

Manufactured  by  the  Selby  Smelting  and  Lead  Co. 


When  Writing  Advertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN   FIELD." 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Goldberg,  Bowen  &  Co. 


G 


rocers 


FOUNDED 
.  .  .1850.  .  . 


FIFTY  -  SEV  EN  YEARS  of  conscientious  attention 
to  the  demands  of  those  who  appreciate  good  goods  at  reasonable 
prices,  coupled  with  excellent  service,  three  daily  deliveries  and  the 
acme  of  perfecl  store  attention  are  the  reasons  why  we  to-day  enjoi, 
and  ask,    the    continued   patronage    of    the    San    Francisco    public 


PERMANENT  LOCATIONS 

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2829  California,   near    'Decisadero 

J  40 1   Haight,   corner  £%tasonic 

13th  and  Clay,    Oakland 


SAFE  =  SAFE  =  SAFE 


Aim    Low 


Shoot  Straight 


THE  SAME  CARE  AND  ACCURACY  NECESSARY  IN  THE  FIELD 
SHOULD  BE  EXERCISED  IN  SAFEGUARDING  ARTICLES  OF  VALUE 

Property  of  Value  should  be  under  the  Owner's  control  —  In 
a  Definite  Place  —  Always  Accessible  —  Absolutely  SECURE 

THE  SAFE  DEPOSIT  VAULTS  OF  MERCANTILE  TRUST  COM- 
PANY OF  SAN  FRANCISCO  offer  even-  facility  for  the  safekeeping  of 
valuables. 

These  vaults  were  not  affected  by  the  earthquake  or  fire  of  April  18-20,  1906 
and  are  the  strongest  and  best  appointed  vaults  in  the  west. 

INSPECTION    CORDIALLY    INVITED 

464  CALIFORNIA  STREET    «    SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA 

PROTECTED  BY  A 


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BUILDING 


When   Writing  Advertisers   Please   Mention   "WESTERN    FIELD." 


On  the  Alert 


m      WESTERN    FIELD      K 


' 


■    ATKR   SAN    FR  A  :- 


ER,   1907 


a    autumni 


1 


■■<■< 


Of   si!v> 
The  ch  u< 

■ 

■ 


TL= 


WESTERN    FIELD      X 


PUBLISHED    AT    GREATER    SAN    FRANCISCO 


Vol.    11 


SEPTEMBER,    1907 


No.   2 


INDIAN    SUMMER 


THE   dismal   line   of  stern  autumnal   days 

Has  broken  rank,  and  dancing  through  the  break, 
Their  splendor  softened  in  the  purple   haze 

That    drapes    the    hills    and    veils    the    placid    lake; 
The  golden   hours  of   Indian  Summer  bring 
Their    yearly    tribute    to    the    season's    king. 

Soft,    filmy   clouds   of   dazzling   whiteness,    set 
Within   the   tender  blue  of   dreamy   skies 

That    bend   above   the   sloping   meadows   wet 

With   tears   of   mist   from  sad    November's  eyes, 

Now   quickly   changed   to   gems   of   wealth   untold 

Beneath    the    autumn    sunlight's   mellow    gold. 

The    russet    tints    of   woodland   fabrics,    thrown 
Against   the   velvet   background   of   the   hills; 

The   amber-brown   of  sandy  barrens,   sown 
With  rubies  where  the  partridge  berry  fills 

The  air  with   spices;   and  the  silken  sheen 

Of   silver   waters   wandering   between. 

The   cloud-tipped    peaks    of    distant    mountains,    kissed 

By    sunset    colors,    radiant    and    rare, 
Sardonyx,   beryl,    purple   amethyst, 

O'er  shot  with  rosy  light,  until  their  fair 
White  summits  kindle  with  the  fires  that  glow 
Deep  in  the  opal's  mystic  heart  of  snow. 

Gifts,    royal    gifts,    no    monarch    need    disdain; 

The    pearly   clouds;    the   sapphire    skies;    the   gold 
Of   sunlight,    framing   diamond    drops    of    rain; 

The  sunset  jewels;  gems  of  wood  and  wold. 
Ah!    stranger    offerings   would    pall   beside 
The    old,    old    treasures    newly    glorified! 

— Marian  Phelps. 


HERE  is  one  handsome  game 
bird  lurking  in  our  midst  that 
few  of  our  hunters  ever  see.  It 
is  about  the  size  of  a  quail,  and 
while  of  general  distribution 
throughout  our  country,  of  all 
the  secretive  birds  we  yearly 
follow  with,  camera  and  note- 
book commend  me  to  Rallus 
virginianus. 
We  have  seen  it  pop  its  grey  head  with 
bright  black  eyes  and  sealingwax-red  bill  out 
of  the  rushes  that  bordered  the  edges  of 
Long  Island  Sound ;  we  have  heard  its  deep 
booming  notes  and  traced  its  path  through  the 
flags  by  their  waving  tops  on  the  banks  of 
the  Kankakee  in  Indiana ;  often  while  care- 
fully searching  the  great  "'drowned  lands"  of 
Ontario  we  have  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  tan 
breast  and  black  and  white  bars  of  the  under 
coverts.  We  have  shot  it  on  the  prairies. 
caught  glimpses  of  it  lately  while  walking 
from  Puget  Sound  on  our  last  trip,  but  Fulton 
Market.  New  York,  is  the  only  place  I  have 
ever  seen  them  in  any  quantity.  Then,  alas! 
they  were  hung  up  by  the  toes,  killed  in  the 
swamps  of  Louisiana.  Many  a  counterfeit 
was  there  also ;  that  same  conscienceless 
marketman  sold  well  plucked  robbins,  great 
bunches  of  blackbirds,  bobolinks  etc.,  as  rail, 
under  his  wizard  touch  all  immediately  be- 
coming "Soras"  and  "Virginias." 


Fritz,  my  fat  assistant,  and  I,  once  ventured 
hopefully  into  a  deeply  hidden  place  in  the 
great  "drowned  lands"  of  central  Ontario, 
lands  where  the  raising  of  the  water  has 
formed  new  straggling  hidden  swamps,  places 
where  these  secretive  game  birds  love  to 
frequent.  It  was  the  end  of  April,  the  haze 
was  in  the  air  and  that  lazy  feeling  beloved 
by  mankind  was  in  our  bones,  a  feeling  of 
rest  that  leaves  lots  of  room  for  thankfulness 
for  the  bare  fact  of  living.  Fritz  and  I  were 
in  a  long  olive-green  canoe,  poling  and  push- 
ing and  dragging  her  through  this  sprouting 
budding  waterway.  We  had  gazed  our  fill 
on  leaping  maskinonge  and  quacking  wild 
duck.  Alarmed  and  disturbed  by  this  strange 
monster  with  the  olive-green  shell,  two  heads 
and  four  waving  arms,  what  they  must  have 
thought  of  us  when  we  stepped  out  into  the 
sluggish  water  and  lifted  and  carried  our 
shell  as  the  need  arose?  What  a  fearsome 
animal  we  must  be  to  the  beasts  of  the  forest, 
field  and  fen  when  we  send  out  fire  and  smoke 
through  our  long  black  tubes ! 

Ahead  of  us  was  a  long  bit  of  bog,  a  tiny 
island  in  this  mass  of  moss-covered  logs  and 
trees  and  black  mucky  beds.  On  one  end 
of  this  patch  of  land  was  a  big  muskrat 
house — a  spring  built  one ;  further  on  it  was 
covered  with  dead  dry  flags.  As  we  rested 
in  our  craft,  smoking  to  discourage  the  un- 
timely mosquito,   there  came   two   long  black 


THE  PACIFIC  CO. 1ST  MAGAZINE 


85 


flashes  and  immediately  in  front  of  us  settled 
down  a  pair  of  Virginia  rails  just  arrived 
on  the  long  migration ;  could  we  have  seen 
their  tickets  they  would  have  read  something 
as  follows :  "From  Florida  via  the  Air  Line — 
that  follows  the  lakes  and  rivers — through 
Pennsylvania  and  New  York,  always  tarrying 
for  and  using  stop-over  privileges  until  the 
isotherm  of  35°  gets  ahead ;  around  the  shores 
of  the  Great  Lakes,  into  Canada — into  the  deep- 
est, darkest,  muddiest  hidden  places  in  all  its 
marshes.  Note — remember  you  are  not  a  citi- 
zen of  H.  B.  M.  empire,  therefore  remain  par- 
tially concealed  until  return  trip  in  September." 
And  they  do,  for  how  many  that  read  this 
article  will  think  it  possible  that  this  plump  little 
game  bird  is  so  widely  scattered  over  Canada. 

Well,  this  pair  had  evidently  returned  home, 
for  they  ran  up  and  down  inspecting  every- 
thing. They  had  several  notes,  she  piped  and 
half  trilled  to  him  and  he  boomed  and  half 
coughed  back  to  her — all  the  sounds  much 
too  great  for  the  birds  that  gave  them  utter- 
ance. Up  and  down  the  muskrat  house,  in 
under  the  flags  and  reeds  they  sped,  much  as 
we  examine  our  summer  cottages  after  a 
season's  absence.  Unlike  our  homes,  lunch 
was  already  spread  for  them;  how  would 
you  like  to  own  a  home  thus  garnished  and 
ready  for  a  thousand-mile-distant  unexpected 
owner?  From  tree  top  to  root,  on  every 
blade  of  dried  beaver  grass  juicy  black  snails 
were  crowded  and  without  sitting  down  the 
pair  dined ;  then  off  they  ran  in  great  haste 
to  again  examine  the  nesting  place. 

A  week  later  we  returned  with  camera 
Boat  and  camera.  The  former  was  firmly 
staked  out  in  front  of  the  place  where  these 
two  brown  beauties  intended  to  build,  the 
latter  was  tied  on.  Our  canoe — with  us  in  it — 
was  hidden  some  twenty  yards  off,  a  long 
white  line  of  rubber  tubing  connected  the  bulb 
I  held.  Soon  we  heard  the  deep  booming  notes 
of  the  male,  then  the  querulous  cry  of  the 
female ;  out  popped  -a  long  sharp,  red  shining 
bill,  then  a  bright  black  eye  peeped  at  the 
camera  and  soon  the  huffish-red  neck  and  hand- 
somely black-spotted  back,  the  tan  breast  and 
beautiful  bars  of  the  flank,  the  grayish-brown 
legs,  all  stood  revealed.  As  she  watched  the 
camera  and  float  intently,  I  hurried  a  handful 
of  air  on  its  mission,  the  shutter  clicked,  and 
we  have  her  here  beside  the  rush  pillars  of  her 
home  for  you  to  look  at.  How  much  better 
and   more    satisfactory   than    killing   the   poor 


"  We  took  her  with  an  excellent  reflection  i 
water  included  " 

thing  and  stuffing  her  to  represent  some 
of  some  breed  yet  unnamed. 

It   took  a   full   hour,   a  sunscorched, 
tortured    hour,    before    her    ladyship 


variety 


msect- 
conde- 


86 


li  I  si  URN  FIELD 


Caught  "going"  with 


scended  to  return;    then    she    walked    further 
out    into    the    picture    and    we    took  her  with 


an  excellent  reflection  in  the  water  included. 
This  seemed  to  he  adding  insult  to  injury, 
as  sin-  ran  away  off  in  under  the  cover  and 
told  all  about  it  to  her  mate.  The  variety 
of  squeaks  and  grunts  that  these  plump 
can  evolve  is  astounding.  We 
heard  him  coming  through  the  bog  scolding 
loudly ;  he  stood  well  in  under  the  flags  and 
examined  us,  booming  vigorously.  Then  she 
approached,  after  a  tremendously  long  time, 
and  slyly  examined  that  strange  black  box 
that  clicked  like  some  hidden  woodchuck, 
finally  mustering  up  courage  to  approach  the 
nest.  By  a  lucky  touch  we  pictured  her  just 
as  she  was  entering  between  the  two  big 
flags  that  formed  the  pillars  of  her  nest — 
caught  her  with  one  foot  in  the  air. 

It  was  a  week  later  when  we  peeped  in  that 
nest  and  saw  the  clever  basket-like  formation 
and  the  long  lilac-spotted  eggs.  No  sooner 
had  we  withdrawn  than  he  came  along,  boom- 
ing harshly.  In  he  stepped  and  carefully 
examined  the  eggs  and  nest,  then  he  came  out 
and  later  we  saw  her  return.  May  days 
were  lengthening  when  we  paddled  that  way 
again,  it  was  now  heavy  toil  to  get  the  long 
cedar  canoe  through  the  rapidly  growing 
vegetation.  Noiselessly  as  we  could  we  ap- 
proached the  island  where  the  nest  was. 
Seated  on  the  warm  black  mud  was  the 
whole  family  of  downy  yellowy-brownish 
youngsters ;  we  could  almost  hear  the 
vigilant  mother  say  "Scamper !  Here's  that 
big  shelled  monster  again."  They  certainly 
did ;  away  over  the  lily  pads  they  pattered, 
so  light  as  not  to  more  than  ripple  the  dark 
water  in  passing.  A  moment  more  and  we 
were  the  only  animals  visible  in  all  that 
secluded  part  of  the  drowned  lands. 


THE   WOOING 

A    WEARY    of    Day's   eager    courtesies, 
'*      And  burning  words  of  passionate  embrace, 

Away    from    him    fair    Earth    has    turned    her    gaze 
To   where   his    dark-skinned    rival    Night    she   sees, 
Touching    with    tender    hand    his    harp,    the    trees; 
Holding   out   shadow   arms   with   gentle   grace 
And   bending   low   to   kiss   her   upturned   face, 
The  while  in  loving  tones,   his   voice,  the  breeze, 
Is  witching  her  with   soothing  serenade, 
That    stirs    and    thrills    her    so    she's    half-dismayed, 
And    fearful   but    still    fain    to   be   caressed. 
He    sees    her    trembling    like    a    bashful    maid, 
Who    longs    to    yield    and    yet    is    half-afraid, 
And  masterfully  clasps  her  to  his  breast. 

— Roy    Brazel    Miller. 


By  Tom  Veitch. 


HEN  the  long,  fierce  heat  of  sum- 
mer has  caused  the  once  spark- 
ling coastal  trout  streams  to 
dwindle  and  become  sluggish 
and  algae-grown,  and  has  driven 
the  ardent  angler  into  the  far- 
away mountains  to  do  his  fly- 
casting;  when  the  winter  duck 
hunter  has  but  recollections  of 
his  last  season's  sport,  and  an- 
ticipations of  the  days  to  come  on  dull,  grey, 
salt  marsh,  or  in  the  waving  tules ;  and  when 
the  pursuer  of  my  brown-feathered  friend, 
the  valley  quail,  is  just  receiving  word  of  the 
congregating  of  the  coveys  on  the  low,  un- 
reared  hills,  or  in  the  brushy  gulches — then  it 
is  that  I  remember  the  hustling  grey  forms  of 
the  broad  stubble  fields  and  rolling,  oak-dotted 
slopes,  and  make  my  preparations,  circum- 
stances permitting,  for  the  late  summer  dove 
shooting. 

For  through  the  long  length  of  throbbing 
days,  while  the  soft,  grey  dust  collects  on  the 
roadside  redwoods,  and  the  wide,  undulating 
fields  of  grain  grow  and  ripen  in  the  golden 
sunshine  in  preparation  for  the  harvest  to  come, 
do  the  doves  rear  their  young  in  the  green 
willows  along  the  banks  of  our  rivers,  and  in 
the  oaks  on  our  hillsides ;  and  when  naught 
but  short  stiff  stubble  remains  of  the  stately 
grain,  the  flocks  gather  in  the  fields  and  along 
the  rocky  stream  beds.  Not  only  in  the  Coast 
hills  does  this  go  on,  but  in  the  broad  fields 
of  the  big  river  counties,  and  in  the  Sierran 
foothills ;  and  other  sportsmen  beside  myself, 
many  of  them,  from  fair  San  Diego  to  tim- 
bered Del  Norte,  think  of  their  arms  and  am- 
munition and  the  swift  little  grey  flyers. 

I  remember  well  one  hunt  after  the  little 
doves  in  Mendocino  county.  For  two  days 
the  law  had  been  the  only  thing  that  delayed 
our  start — our  preparations  were  complete  and 
finished — and  when  finally  night  fell  for  the  last 
time  on  that  close  season  we  were  reposing  by 
a  glowing  camp-fire,  some  twenty  miles  from 


the  blue  Pacific,  in  the  towering  redwoods  of 
the  southern  Mendocino  hills.  Down  from  the 
camp,  out  in  the  darkness,  we  knew  was  a 
quiet  little  valley,  where  the  brown,  reed-bear- 
ing grasses  were  undisturbed,  and  where  there 
was  no  timber,  save  here  and  there  a  broadly 
branching  oak.  We  also  knew  that  doves  were 
there  by  scores — birds  that  had  come  from  the 
surrounding  hills  to  this  common  feeding 
ground — for  we  had  seen  them  whistling  their 
way  through  the  dusk  in  the  early  evening. 
Then,  we  had  hunted  here  before. 

When  we  had  finally  crawled  into  the  bags  I 
found  some  difficulty  in  losing  my  thoughts, 
and  blamed  the  little  stream  that  sang  its  way 
down  through  the  redwoods  from  the  hills 
past  our  camp ;  but  since  then  I  have  come  to 
know  of  the  relation  between  expectation  and 
insomnia. 

I  awoke  next  morning  in  the  grey  half-light 
aware  of  the  fragrant,  elusive  aroma  of  boil- 
ing coffee ;  and  a  little  later,  after  a  shivery 
wash  in  the  sparkling  stream,  while  I  was 
testing  my  companion's  ability  as  chef,  I  heard 
from  down  the  slope  a  soft,  phantom  call  of  a 
dove — "Cueecu-cuu-cn." 

We  had  decided  to  hunt  separately,  and  as  I 
made  my  way  down  through  the  great  trees 
toward  the  open  I  heard,  off  and  on,  the  phan- 
tom, cooing  calls  of  different  birds.  I  hurried 
on  and  killed  my  first  bird  just  at  the  edge  of 
the  redwoods.  The  light  was  very  fair  for* 
good  work,  the  sun  promising  to  be  up  over 
the  hills  in  a  few  moments.  As  three  birds 
swung  past  in  a  wide  half-circle,  I  took  a 
quick  quartering  shot  which  brought  down  the 
center  one,  and  a  puff  of  grey  feathers  from 
the  last.  I  retrieved  the  grassed  bird,  and  had 
just  stowed  it  snugly  away  in  the  far  depths 
of  the  capacious  hunting  coat,  when  a  single 
dove  came  turning  and  swinging  up  from  be- 
hind. I  heard  the  whistle  of  its  wings  and 
twisted  quick  and  fired.  Two  loose  feathers 
floating  down  through  the  air  told  me  I  had 
not  missed,  but  on  flew  the  bird  out  over  the 


88 


WESTERb   FIELD 


field .  .<s  I  watched  il  suddenly  pit  hi 
struck  the  ground  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
away.  Winn  I  reached  the  bundle  of  grey  ii 
w.is  entirely  motionless,  and  after  some  search 
1  found  where  a  single  shot  had  struck  it  in 
the  breast,  cutting  both  lungs.  I  have  had  the 
same  tliiiiK  happen  with  quail  Apparently  the 
bird  when  thus  hit  flies  until  it  draws  in  a 
when  the  blood  tills  its  lungs  and  it 
pitches  to  earth, 

By  tliis  time  the  sun  was  over  the  distant 
ridge,  and  the  birds  were  settling  in  the  grass 

for    their    morning    feed.       I     started    walking 

through  the  knee-high  tangle  of  grasses  and 

cannon  thistle  and  put  up  two  birds  that  flut- 

thead,  looking  for  a  new  place  to  alight 

and  allowing  me  to  score  an  easy  double.     I 

now  missed  two  overhead  shots,  hut  continu- 
ing on  my  way  through  the  crackling  grass  I 
put  up  live  birds  in  range,  scoring  every  one 
handily.  This  method  of  walking  up  the  birds 
in  an  open  held  is  the  easiest  manner  for  the 
man  to  get  them,  although  those  that 
will  can  make  larger  bags  by  potting  them 
from  the  oaks  or  at  a  water-hole. 

l'.\  now  I  had  made  my  way  across  the  open 
field,  and  as  the  morning  sun  was  becoming 
uncomfortably  warm  I  decided  in  favor  of  a 
short  rest  beneath  an  oak. 

As  I  was  resting  there  I  saw  my  companion 
fire  far  down  the  field.  Then  from  a  red- 
trunked  madrone  tree  two  hundred  yards  from 
him,  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  there  streamed 
a  veritable  horde  of  grey. forms.  Apparently 
all  the  doves  we  had  been  putting  up  had 
collected  in  this  one  tree,  and  as  I  watched 
them  winging  into  a  flock  I  saw  that  they  were 
headed  my  way.  I  crouched  down  in  the  in- 
sufficient cover  afforded  by  the  low  brown 
grass  and  slipped  the  safety  up.  On  they  came, 
directh   for  the  tree  under  which  I  was.   When 


,it  about  fort}  yards  they  saw  me  and  swung 
■  it  to  the  hft  in  two  long  lines,  their  wings 
whistling    shrilly.      The    gun    barrels    moved 

with  them  and  at  the  lnsi  report  four  in  the 
leading  line  pitched,  and  disorder  struck  the 
flock.  The  second  barrel  brought  down  three 
more,  t^"  of  which  were  only  crippled  and 
flapped  around  in  an  open  space  into  which 
they  had  fallen.  These  acted  as  decoys  for 
some  score  of  the  birds  that  had  passed  and 
as  these  latter  swung  back  three  more  were 
Ten  birds  in  four  shots! 

My  companion  came  up  and  we  made  our 
way  to  a  spring  under  the  dark  trees.  Here 
we  had  a  cool  drink  of  Adam's  wine,  after 
which  we  tramped  along  the  slopes  among  the 
scattered  oaks  to  which  most  of  the  birds  had 
flown.  Here  we  both  filled  out  our  limits  on 
birds  that  flew  from  tree  to  tree  at  our  ap- 
proach. Our  hunting  coats  heavy,  but  our 
shell  pockets  light,  we  returned  to  camp  in 
time  to  prepare  lunch. 

I  thoroughly  enjoyed  that  morning's  shoot 
and  was  entirely  satisfied  when  it  was  ended. 
I  had  had  my  fill  of  good,  clean  sport.  How- 
ever much  dove  shooting  may  be  condemned 
by  some,  I  shall  always  uphold  and  enjoy  it, 
for  it  has  many  things  in  its  favor.  It  affords 
the  hunter  good  exercise,  the  greatest  variety 
of  shots  at  birds  that,  with  the  exception  of 
wild  pigeons,  can  stand  more  punishment  than 
any  other,  and  gives  him  a  bird  that  is  unsur- 
passed for  the  table. 

I  hope  that  the  dove  may  long  be  found 
among  our  hills  and  on  our  plains,  and  that 
some  one  day  in  every  three  hundred  and 
sixty-five  I  may  have  the  opportunity  to 
shoulder  my  gun  and  tramp  through  the  late 
summer  heat  in  his  pursuit,  the  dry  grass 
crisp  beneath  my  boots  and  the  arching,  blue 
skv  overhead. 


^ 

J 

c 

ON  THE  OLD  CARSON  TRAIL 

i 

f 

\ 

By  John   B.   Haas. 


WAS  in  1862.  "Why  not  go?" 
My  chum  Bob  Dixon  said,  when 
I  told  him  that  I  felt  a  hanker- 
ing for  the  mountains.  "I  will 
go  with  you.  We  will  take 
saddle  horses,  provisions  and 
other  stuff  along  and  camp 
when   and   where   we  please." 

That  suited  me.  I  had  been 
out  in  the  high  Sierras  many 
days  and  nights,  and  always  enjoyed  it.  We 
were  not  long  in  getting  ready  and  next 
morning  found  us  en  route  from  the  little 
town  of  Pleasant  Valley  on  the  old  Carson 
trail  to  the  road  built  from  Placerville  to 
Virginia   City   in   Nevada. 

We  enjoyed  it,  as  we  rode  through  the 
pine  woods  and  past  some  small  ranches ; 
through  Dry  Gulch  and  Sky  Park  and  then 
on  a  high   ridge  for  miles. 

We  moored  at  the  headwaters  of  Webber 
Creek  and  had  the  good  fortune  of  coming 
across  a  patch  of  hazelnuts  and  bushes  of 
gooseberries,  which  furnished  us  a  delicious 
dessert.  We  also  found  some  of  the  hillsides 
covered  with  wild  plums,  but  they  were  some- 
thing similar  to  persimmons,  leaving  a  rather 
puckering  after-taste  in  one's  mouth.  I  heard 
that  some  of  the  habitants  near  by  brewed  a 
good  beer  of  these,  but  having  never  tasted 
it,  can  not  say. 

After  allowing  our  ponies  to  luxuriate  on 
the  green  grass  near  the  rivulet,  we  continued 
on  our  way,  gaining  the  Placerville  road  and 
crossing  the  American  River,  the  "Rio  de  los 
Americanos"  of  the  native  Californians,  on 
Brockliss'  bridge.  For  quite  a  distance  we  fol- 
lowed the  grade  on  the  south  of  the  river, 
as  it  went  foaming  and  rushing  in  its  rocky 
bed  in  the  ever  varying  light  and  shade.  A 
little  way  farther  up  stream,  a  great  scope  on 
the  opposite  mountain  presented  a  bare  strip 
several  hundred  yards  wide,  from  near  the 
top  to  the  river's  edge,  glistening  like  an 
immense  mirror  in  the  sunshine.  The  winter 
before  unusually  heavy  rains  had  caused  a 
landslide,  leaving  the  bare  rocks  exposed.  The 
immense   mass   of   rock,    earth   and   trees    for 


a  while  dammed  the  river ;  and  only  the  great 
height  of  Brockliss'  bridge  over  the  river 
saved  it  from  destruction  when  the  dam 
broke. 

Finding  a  convenient  place  in  a  ravine,  we 
camped.  Everything  requisite,  wood,  water 
and  feed  was  there.  The  ruins  of  a  stone 
chimney  told  us  that  in  the  first  days  of  the 
Comstock  silver  excitement  some  one  had 
built  a  shanty  there,  a  so-called  "deadfall," 
compelling  the  thirsty  wayfarer  to  buy  the 
water  of  him  and  throwing  in  the  whiskey — ■ 
as  big  a  drink  as  he  wanted — free,  gratis. 

Supper  over,  we  had  our  smoke.  Bob 
Dixon  was  a  good  companion  and  never 
in  want  of  something  to  talk  about. 

"What  if  we  should  have  a  grizzly  come 
on  to  us  tonight?"    he  remarked. 

"Well !"  I  said,  "There  are  some  convenient 
trees  close  by.  I'll  take  up  on  that  cedar 
over  there  and  you  had  better  pick  out  your 
tree.  Your  Colt  six-shooter  and  my  double- 
barrel  gun  won't  count  much  with  a  grizzly." 

There  was  no  grizzly,  however,  but  we 
were  not  left  to  sleep  undisturbed.  The 
coyotes  took  care  of  that ;  Bob  fired  a  few 
shots  in  their  direction,  but  it  had  no  lasting 
effect.    Howl  they  would  and  did. 

The  sun  was  just  peeping  over  the  mountain 
when  Bob  rolled  out  of  his  blanket  and 
stretched  himself.  Throwing  an  armful  of  dry 
pine  sticks  on  the  glowing  embers  he  quickly 
had  a  bright  fire. 

"Up  John !"  he  called  and  went  to  stake 
our  ponies  onto  a  fresh  spot.  I  jumped  up, 
scraped  out  some  coals  and  put  on  water 
for  coffee.  A  good  wash  at  the  spring  took 
the  remnant  of  sleep  out  of  my  eyes  and  I 
was  quickly  at  work,  frying  our  bacon  and 
baking  the  universal  flapjacks. 

"Come  to  breakfast!"  I  shouted  to  Bob. 
"Wait !"  he  answered,  and  with  that  he  ran 
down  the  road  and  yelled  with  all  his  might : 
"O,  yes!  O,  yes!  Breakfast  is  ready!"  I 
wondered  what  in  the  world  possessed  him, 
and  had  no  idea  that  any  one  would  accept 
his  invitation.  Up  he  came,  followed  by  a 
fellow  who  looked  hungry  enough. 


90 


WESTERN  lllll> 


The  North   American   Hotel 

an   Old-time   Print   by   Lawrence   &   Houseworth 


"He  said  breakfast  is  ready,  and  you  bet  I 
am,"  the  newcomer  remarked.  I  looked  at 
him.  He  was  a  decent  looking  sort  of  a  chap 
and  I  could  notice  an  amused  twinkle  in  his 
eye  and  a  smile  on  his  lips. 

"If  I  had  known  that  my  partner  was  to 
open  a  hotel  on  the  road,"  I  said,  "I  would 
at  least  have  provided  a  more  extensive  out- 
fit"— there  were  only  two  tin  plates  and  cups — 
"however,  you  are  welcome." 

"Oh !  don't  bother.  I  can  take  the  frying 
pan  for  a  plate  and  your  pard  will  surely  not 
object  to  me  drinking  from  his  cup."  His 
free  and  easy  manner  captured  me  and  every- 
thing was  agreeable. 

"Say,  you  gents !  I  left  Webster's  Station 
early  this  morning.  Fact !  I  got  into  a  game 
and  was  cleaned  out.  Found  I  didn't  have 
enough  left  to  pay  for  a  breakfast.  'Served 
me  right !'  you  may  think  and  you  would  be 
correct.  Your  kind  invitation  touched  my 
heart  and — stomach.  I  am  all  right  now  to 
reach  Placerville.  Can't  fail  me  there,  I  am  a 
printer,"  the  jolly  fellow  told  us  between  bites. 
When  he  left  his  last  words  were :  "Say,  boys ! 
If  we  meet  again,  you  bet  I'll  know  you."  I 
met  him  again,  several  years  after,  a  prom- 
inent, well-to-do  citizen  of  San  Francisco.  He 
hadn't  forgotten  the  breakfast  by  the  roadside. 

In   the   meantime   the   sun   had    risen   above 


the  pines  and  we  were  in  the  saddle,  passing 
Webster's  Station  at  Sugar  Loaf  mountain.  It 
was  before  railroads  were  built.  The  Silver 
mines  in  Nevada  were  in  full  bloom  and  hotels 
and  "deadfalls"  along  the  wagon  road  were 
reaping  a  rich  harvest.  Numerous  big  teams 
of  horses  and  mules  drawing  enormous  large 
wagons .  and  "back  actions",  as  the  second 
smaller  wagons  were  called,  loaded  with 
merchandise,  crowded  the  road.  Great  ox 
teams  of  four  and  five  yokes  of  oxen  carried 
heavy  machinery  for  the  mines. 

They  generally  were  a  month  or  more  mak- 
ing the  trip,  without  almost  any  expense,  and 
netting  from  600  to  1000  dollars  per  trip.  Then 
there  was  the  passenger  business  carried  on 
by  stagecoaches,  going  over  the  narrow  road 
at  a  lively  gait.  There  were  turnouts  on  the 
grades  and  it  was  no  small  concern  to  team- 
sters and  stagedrivers  to  hit  these  at  the  right 
time  when  meeting. 

Returning,  these  stagecoaches  sometimes 
carried  silver  bullion,  and  it  was  one  of  these 
that  old  man  Poole  and  a  confederate,  one 
Tom  Glendennin,  robbed.  They  were  sur- 
prised by  a  deputy  sheriff  and  a  constable  from 
Placerville  at  the  Sommerset  house,  a  tavern 
on  the  Grizzly  Flat  road.  Poole  shot  and 
killed  the  deputy,  as  he  opened  the  door  and 
asked    Poole    to    surrender,    but    the    deputy 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


r'l 


had  fired  as  he  fell  and  wounded  Poole,  who 
was  captured.  Glendennin  escaped  to  Los 
Angeles,  then  a  small  pueblo,  and  never  was 
taken.  In  his  defense,  Poole  offered  a  com- 
mission from  the  Confederate  Government, 
authorizing  him  to  make  war  on  the  United 
States. 

We  reached  Strawberry  valley,  at  the  foot 
of  the  first  summit,  in  the  evening  and  made 
camp  near  Berry's  hostelry — true  to  our  intent 
not  to  sleep  in  a  house.  There  we  laid  in 
some  extra  supplies.  If  one  would  look  for 
strawberries  there  he  would  be  badly  dis- 
appointed. It  was  Berry's  (the  hotel  keeper) 
trick  of  substituting  worthless  straw  for  hay 
and  charging  an  extravagant  price  that  got 
him  the  name  "Straw-Berry"  and  therefrom 
the  valley's  name.  Nevertheless,  Strawberry 
valley  is  a  beautiful  place,  with  its  gothic 
pinnacles  and  other  picturesque  scenery,  and 
well  worth  seeing. 

We  made  an  early  start,  partly  to  avoid  the 
dust  of  the  road  and  hoping  thus  to  miss 
meeting  many  teams  on  their  return  from 
Washoe.  Still,  we  had  to  turn  out  twice, 
meeting  stagecoaches  coming  down  the 
mountain  on  the  run. 

On  our  right  the  river,  now  of  much  less 
volume,  leaped  and  bounded  over  the  rocks, 
jumping  like  a  lively  kid  of  a  boy  in  ex- 
uberant joy.  A  little  higher  up  the  road 
wound  around  a  high  cliff.  I  came  very 
near  asking  my  companion :  "Where's  the 
river?"  The  noise  had  ceased  entirely;  we  had 
come  to  a  high  plateau  and  there  the  frolic- 
some boy  of  a  river  had  suddenly  changed 
into  the  sedate,  quietly  flowing  stream.  Not 
a  ripple  was  to  be  seen  on  its  mirror-like 
surface. 

We  were  on  what  is  called  the  "first  sum- 
mit," following  an  almost  level  road.  There 
we  found  snow.  It  was  worn  away  in  the  road, 
but  where  we  halted  at  noon  in  a  somewhat 
clear  spot  we  found  a  snowbank  about  ten 
feet  high,  and  at  its  edge  everything  green, 
bushes  in  full  bloom  and  fruit.  Yes,  fruit — 
ripe  currants  and  raspberries.  We  had  our 
fill  of  them,  a  royal  dessert  to  our  dinner.  To 
us,  coming  from  the  dry,  burned  up  foothills, 
it  was  a  grand  surprise. 

After  a  good  rest  we  kept  on,  passing  the 
"North  American  Hotel"  with  an  unusually 
steep  roof,  a  very  necessary  part  of  the  build- 
ing. The  snowfall  reaches  such  great  depth 
there,  that  any  but  a  very  steep  roof  would  be 


Lake  Bigler    (Tahoe) 

crushed.  Indeed,  we  passed  a  large  barn  that 
was  totally  flattened  out  by  the  weight  of 
snow   on   it. 

The  road  took  us  to  the  eastern  edge  of  the 
Summit.  From  it  a  glorious  view  met  our 
gaze.  We  halted,  dismounting  to  rest  our 
pqnies.  Before  us  lay  Lake  Valley  with  its 
famous  .Lake  Tahoe.  At  that  time  it  was 
called  "Lake  Bigler"  after  one  of  California's 
early  Governors. 

It  is  a  beautiful  sight  from  the  Summit,  sur- 
rounded as  it  is  by  high  pine-clad  mountains. 

I  had  passed  by  it  before,  in  midwinter, 
with  only  the  gigantic  pines  and  cedars  sur- 
rounding it,  relieving  the  eyes  of  the  dazzling 
coat  of  snow.  We  led  our  horses  down  the 
somewhat  steep  and  narrow  grade  to  Lake 
Valley,  having  to  turn  out  several  times  to  let 
teams  pass.  I  remembered  having  to  crowd 
our  ten  mules  of  a  pack  train,  that  I  was 
running  a  year  before,  into  the  snowbank  on 
the  hillside,  to  allow  a  loaded  train  of  two 
hundred  mules  to  pass,  as  we  were  going  up 
the  grade.  It  took  a  good  while  and  kept 
me  and  my  partner  dancing  to  keep  our  feet 
from  freezing.  The  trains  got  by  us  all  right, 
■  but  when  a  big  black  mule  came  slouching 
along,  with  a  circular  saw  on  his  back,  and 
some  of  its  sharp  teeth  sticking  out,  we  had 
hard  work  crowding  our  unwilling  mules 
further  back  into  the'  snow  to  save  them. 


fVESTERti   FIELD 


•Nick  of  the  Woods"   (Curious  Face  on  Tree  Trunk) 
From  an  Old  Print  by  Lawrence  &  Houseworth 


"That's  a  dead  mule!"  my  then  partner  re- 
marked, as  an  unruly  long  ear  trotted  too 
near  the  edge  of  the  grade,  and,  losing  his 
footing  in  the  snow,  went  rolling  side  over 
side  down  the  steep  mountain.  Not  so.  The 
mule  had  on  two  large  kegs  of  whiskey.  The 
pack  must  have  been  well  lashed  on  by  the 
Mexican  arricros,  for  it  stuck  on  well  as  the 
mule  rolled  over  and  over,  until  near  the 
bottom  he,  or  rather  his  cargo,  struck  a  cliff 
of  rock.  His  load  was  lightened,  the  kegs  were 
shattered  and  the  mule,  getting  on  his  feet, 
gave  one  of  those  mulish  sighs  of  relief,  an 
earpiercing  "Hee-Yah". 

We  camped  near  the  creek  running  through 
the  valley  and  never  felt  lonesome.  A  large 
number  of  teams  were  camping  there,  ready 
to  cross  the  second  summit,  through  Hope 
valley  and  down  Humboldt  Canon  into 
Nevada. 

The  mules  kept  up  a  heartrending  concert 
until  late  in  the  night  and  repeated  the  per- 
formance early  in  the  morning  until  they  were 
fed. 

Our  attention  was  called  to  a  curious 
natural  formation,  a  knot  on  a  cedar  tree, 
exactly  the  shape  of  a  man's  head  as  if  he 
were  looking  out  of  the  tree. 

"He  bad  hombre,"  a  Washoe  Indian  stand- 
ing    near     explained     to     us.      "He    burn'em 


squaw  and  papoose,  one  sleep  old,  all  same 
prison  in  tree." 

Riding  through  pine  and  cedar  forests  we 
came  to  an  opening  near  the  lake,  a  level 
stretch  of  meadow  where  men  were  busy 
making  hay,  a  novel  sight  for  those  regions. 
More  hills  and  forests  until  late  in  the  after- 
noon when  we  reached  that  jewel  of  the 
Sierras,  Fallen  Leaf  Lake. 

"A  picture !"  my  nowise  sentimental 
partner  exclaimed,  as  we  halted  on  a  little 
sandy  beach.  There  before  us  was  the  lake 
in  all  its  pristine  beauty.  Not  one  stroke  of 
man's  destroying  hand  had  marred  it  since 
the  morn  of  Creation.  Great,  lofty  pine-clad 
mountains  arose  from  the  water's  edge  on  the 
other  side  and  threw  their  somber  shadows 
over  its  smooth  surface,  and  the  little  beach 
was  welcome  to  us  after  the  heat  of  the  day's 
ride. 

We  had  picketed  our  ponies  and  I  crossed 
the  little  meadow  next  to  the  beach  to  the 
edge  of  the  timber  to  gather  some  dry  wood. 
I  heard  something  buzzing  about  my  ears,  but 
paid  no  attention  to  it.  But  I  was  to  be 
reminded  of  my  neglect.  A  perfect  cloud  of 
yellow-jackets  were  onto  me  and  all  over  me. 
An  attempt  to  beat  them  off  with  my  hat  only 
made  matters  worse  and  I  was  compelled  to 
beat  an  inglorious  retreat.     They  covered  my 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


9.1 


face,  were  in  my  hair — looking,  I  suppose,  for 
a  bald  spot  which  they  didn't  find — and  were 
crawling  down  my  open  shirt-collar,  not  for- 
getting their  main  business  of  putting  in  extra 
licks  in  stinging.  By  this  time  they  were  even 
getting  into  my  nose  and  trying  to  get  down 
my  throat.  I  had  reached  the  edge  of  the  lake 
in  a  wild  race  to  get  away  from  them  and 
without  a  moment's  hesitation  plunged  in  head 
foremost. 

(  Hi,  but  the  water  was  cold!  When  I  raised 
up  out  of  it — it  was  about  five  feet  deep — I 
saw  my  enemies  were  still  hovering  near.  I 
dipped  under  again.  I  minded  the  cold  water 
less  than  those  devils.  Then  I  waded  some 
distance  down  the  beach  and  got  out.  It  took 
me  a  good  while  to  forgive  Dixon  for  laughing 
at  me  and  I  felt  like  murdering  a  squaw  that 
had  squatted  by  the  fire  and  was  grinning  at 
me.  Dixon  said  he  didn't  know  what  in  blazes 
had  me  on  the  run,  and  had  grabbed  the  gun 
until  he  heard  the  yellow-jackets  buzzing  as  I 
came  near.  I  stood  there  dripping  and  shiver- 
ing, so  Dixon  made  a  hot  fire  to  dry  by  and 
hung  my  coat  over  my  shoulders. 

"Where  you  ketch'em?"  the  squaw  asked 
me. 

"Ketch  the  devil!  you  old  harridan!"  I 
answered,  half  angry  and  half  amused,  "They 
caught' me." 

"Oh !  Show  her."  Dixon  said,  "Let's  see 
what   she  is  up  to." 

From  a  respectful  distance  I  pointed  out 
the   spot   to  her. 

"Me  go  see !"  she  said  picking  up  a  fire- 
brand.    "Me   ketch'em !" 

The  squaw  resolutely  advanced,  placed  the 
fire-brand  over  the  spot  and  piled  dry  brush 
and  green  leaves  over  it,  virtually  smoking 
out  the  nest  in  the  ground. 

We  went  back  to  the  fire' while  the  squaw 
was  besieging  the  fort.  We  saw  her  dig  with  a 
stick.  After  a  while  she  came  back  with  an 
armful  of  round  combs  about  six  inches  in 
diameter.  They  were  constructed  of  a  material 
like  rough  gray  wrapping  paper  and  every  cell 
held  a   fat  larva. 

With  her  other  hand  she  held  one  of  the 
combs  and  every  once  in  a  while  she  took 
just  as  big  a  bite  as  she  could.  How  her  eyes 
glistened  with  delight,  as  the  yellow  sauce  was 
running  down  her  jaws !  It  must  have  tasted 
exquisitely  to  her.  Dixon  looked  at  her  and 
burst  out  laughing.  I  couldn't  help  joining 
him. 


"Say,  Mahela!"  I  asked  her,  "What  are  you 
going  to  do  with  these?"  pointing  to  her  arm- 
ful of  combs. 

"Me  likee,  Hotnbre  likee,  Papoose  heap, 
heap   likep."  she  answered. 

Here  was  nature.  The  wife  and  mother's 
care  for  her  family.  The  poor,  half-clad, 
half-starved  savage,  showing  the  feeling  of 
kindness  so  often  wanting  in  civilized  life. 
We  treated  her  to  some  coffee  and  flapjacks 
and  she  left  greatly  pleased. 

We  had  more  Indian  visitors  on  the  fol- 
lowing day.  A  very  old  fellow  and  a  young 
man  came  to  our  camp.  The  old  man  carried 
his  bow  and  arrows  wrapped  in  the  skin  of  a 
catamount,  while  the  young  fellow  was  the 
proud  possessor  of  an  old  flint-lock  musket. 

I  was  surprised  to  hear  Dixon  address 
them  in  the  Indian  tongue  and  to  see  the  old 
fellow's  face  light  up  with  what  purported  to 
be  a  smile,  but  turned  out  a  hideous  grin. 
"Dixon!  Where  in  the  world  did  you  learn 
Indian?"    I  questioned. 

"Oh !  I  have  lived  amongst  them  some, 
before  I  became  a  pony  express  rider.  It's 
not  hard  to  learn  when  you  hear  nothing 
else.    It's  a  very  simple  language  to  learn." 

Some  coffee,  well  sweetened — all  Indians 
love  sugar — and  a  gift  of  tobacco  made  them 
happy.  The  old  Indian  and  Dixon  had  quite 
a  lengthy  confab.  From  some  English  words 
dropped  during  their  conversation  and  the 
motions  of  Kanawah,  I  judged  they  were 
talking  about  the  Lake. 

At  last  old  Kanawah  pointed  to  me,  saying 
something  in  Indian.  Dixon  proceeded  to  tell 
me: 

"He  has  been  telling  me  about  a  tradition 
or  legend  he  used  to  hear  the  old  Indians  talk- 
about,  when  he  was  a  boy  and  wants  me  to 
tell  you.    This  is  what  he  said : 

Kan-a-wah's  Story. 

"Long  ago,  many  sleeps  before  the  white 
man  came,  before  'Old  Bob'*  brought  the 
Big  White  Mant  over  the  mountain,  this  val- 
ley was  the  happy  home  of  a  small  tribe  of 
Indians,  who  came  there  from  the  Big  Bad 
Water   Lake.t   driven   away  by  another   tribe. 

"Right  here  on  this  beach  stood  their 
wickiups  in  summer,  and  in  winter  they 
moved  them  up  on  the  side  hill,  where  the 
sun,    when   arising   in   the   morning   out   of   a 


*  Meaning   Kit  Cars, 
t  Jno.  C.  Fremont. 
t  Great  Salt  Lake. 


i's  elder  brother.  Robert  Carson 


"I 


WESTERN  FIELD 


great,  great  l >>k  hole  in  il"-  earth  to  warm  and 
light  it,  would  have  a  k"'"1  chance  t"  warm 
them,  when  it  was  cold,  very  cold,  on  the 
beach  and  the  snow  lay  deep  in  the  valley, 

"There  were  plenty  of  deer  in  the  mountains 
and  in  the  valley  up  to  the  big  lake.  They 
never  suffered  for  want  of  food  during  the 
summer  months.  They  could  shoot  all  the 
deer  they  wanted  for  food  and  the  squaws 
knew  how  to  dress  the  skins  for  leggings 
and  moccasins.  And  there  were  plenty  of 
acorns,  pinenuts,  berries  and  wild  plums, 
which  they  also  stored  for  the  winter.  But 
sum,-  seasons  were  not  so  good  and  then  their 
stores  gave  out.  And  then  the  snow  would 
be  so  deep  that  they  could  not  go  out  and 
shoot  game  Yes !  There  were  bears,  and 
sometimes  they  would  shoot  and  spear  a 
black  bear,  but  they  never  would  attack  the 
big  gray  bears ;  their  arrows  wouldn't  hurt 
him.  There  were  birds,  too,  on  the  lake — 
heap,  heap  birds !  ducks  and  geese  and  cranes 
— and  they  shot  many.  They  had  never  lived 
by  any  other  lake  but  the  big  'Bad  Water  Lake' 
and  there  was  nothing  alive  in  it. 

"A  bad  season  came  and  all  the  Indians  were 
hungry.  Then  the  snow  came  down.  It 
snowed  for  many  days.  Kan-a-wah's  father 
knew  Onakee,  a  young  Indian  and  Isayah  his 
young  squaw.  One  very  cold  winter's  day 
Onakee  told  him  that  they  had  nothing  more 
to  eat  and  that  Isayah  was  sick  with  hunger. 
Kan-a-wah's  father  was  no  better  off,  nor  were 
the  other  Indians. 

"That  night  •  Isayah,  opening  her  eyes  on 
hearing  a  noise  like  the  flapping  of  wings, 
saw  a  strange  sight.  Before  her  stood  a 
great  Eagle.  'Hear,  Isayah !  You  Indians  are 
all  hungry  and  so  also  are  we  eagles.  The 
lake  is  frozen  over.  Awaken  Onakee.  Tell 
him  to  take  his  tomahawk,  go  down  to  the 
lake  and  cut  a  hole  in  the  ice  and  you  will  get 
plenty  of  good  fish.  They  are  good  to  eat  and 
you  will  not  be  hungry  after.'  Then  the  big 
eagle  flapped  his  wings  and  flew  away.  Isayah 
called  Onakee  and  together  they  went  out  on 
the  lake.  With  his  stone  axe  Onakee  worked 
and  when  he  was  exhausted  Isayah  took  the 
axe.  It  took  them  a  long  time  to  cut  through 
the  ice,  weakened  as  they  were  by  hunger, 
but  at  last  they  burst  through  and  see !  In  a 
little  while  great,  silvery  shining  fish,  Lake 
trout,  crowded  each  other,  until  they  filled  the 
hole  and  Onakee  and  Isayah  got  tired  of 
throwing  them  out  on- the  ice. 

"Then  Onakee  ran  up  to  the  camp  and  called 


Eagle 

all  the  Indians  and  they  all  returned  with 
heaps  of  fish.  They  roasted  them  and  all  the 
hombrcs,  squaws  and  papooses  had  a  big  Eat 
and  after  that  there  were  no  more  hungry 
Indians  until  the  big  snow  was  gone,  and  they 
never  tired  of  praising  Onakee  and  Isayah. 

"  'There,  there !'  Isayah  pointed  to  an 
enormous  large  bird,  sailing  over  their  heads, 
as  they  had  just  left  the  hole  in  the  ice,  where 
they  had  been  spearing  the  fish ;  'There  is 
our  friend  the  Eagle.'  And  hardly  had  she 
said  it  when  the  big  bird  swooped  down  like 
a  flash  of  lightning  and  arose  with  a  large 
fish  in  his  claws." 

To  this  day  the  descendants  of  Onakee  and 
Isayah  know  how  to  spear  the  "beauties  of  the 
Lakes" — the  speckled  Lake  trout.  But,  they 
say  the  Lake  spirit  is  angry,  and  woe  to  the 
Indian  or  white  man  who  breaks  through 
the  ice  or  chances  to  drown  in  the  lakes. 
Their  bodies  are  forever  lost,  for  the  Lake 
spirit  never  gives  fhem  up.  No  body  of  a 
person  drowned  there  has  ever  been  seen 
again. 


cr 


SOUTH  COAST  SHOOTING 


By  "Stillhunter." 


=9 


VIII.    WHITE-TAILED  DEER. 


ROBABLY  the  best  known  game 
animal  of  the  United  States, 
if  not  of  the  entire  New  World, 
is  the  Virginia,  or  white-tailed 
deer.  From  Aroostook  to  San 
Diego  and  from  Nanaimo  to  St. 
Augustine  its  range  extends, 
differing  slightly  with  locality 
but  always  the  white-tail,  always 
beloved  of  hunters  and  always 
the  prime  game  animal  of  the  district  in 
which  it  is  found. 

With  the  black-tail  it  divides  honors  in  the 
Northwest;  in  early  days  the  Montana  black- 
tail  was  one  of  the  most  plentiful  of  the  game 
animals  with  which  the  trapper  and  the  settler 
filled  their  larder.  In  the  Southwest  there 
are  black-tail,  for  the  most  part  in  the 
mountains  of  the  desert  and  along  the  east- 
ern side  of  the  coastal  ranges,  but  the  principal 
deer  and  the  one  which  is  most  commonly 
killed,   is   the   white-tail. 

Those  animals  which  soonest  accustom 
themselves  to  the  presence  of  man,  and  to 
gathering  their  food  by  stealth  from  his 
tilled  fields,  are  the  ones  which  longest  sur- 
vive. The  white-tail  is  one  of  these.  In  the 
Adirondacks,  where  are  countless  small  farms 
laid  away  in  the  bowl-like  valleys  of  the 
higher  hills,  the  white-tail  is  not  only  hold- 
ing its  own,  but  according  to  reliable  figures  is 
on  the  increase.  The  cabbage  and  turnip  and 
rye  and  buckwheat  fields  of  the  farmers 
furnish  the  white-tail  with  good  forage  during 
the  night,  and  by  day  the  hills  they  have 
known  so  long  give  them  a  safe  refuge  from 
their  foes. 

One  of  the  chief  beauties  of  this  famous 
range  of  eastern  mountains  is  its  deer,  and 
the  state  is  doing  all  that  in  its  power  lies 
to  preserve  these  four-feet  for  generations  to 
come,  and  by  rapidly  becoming  "acclimatized" 
to  civilization  in  the  shape  of  the  farmer  the 
deer  are  aiding  the  state  all  unwittingly. 

This  year  it  is  apparent  to  all  who  have 
gone  afield  in  Southern  California  that  the 
white-tails   are  on   the   increase.    Every  trout 


fisherman  who  has  returned  from  any  of  the 
forks  of  the  San  Gabriel ;  from  Pine  Flats,  or 
from  any  other  of  the  lesser  streams  from 
Tehachapi  to  San  Diego,  has  reported  the 
presence  of  deer  sign  in  abundance. 

Does  have  been  seen  on  many  occasions  by 
these  Waltonians,  and  in  a  letter  received  by 
the  writer  from  a  party  of  campers  in  the  Big 
Tejunga  the  fact  of  seeing  fresh  deer  sign 
around  the  creek  every  morning  is  recorded 
as  a  natural  occurrence. 

On  the  reserve  in  Santiago  canon,  just  back 
of  what  was  once  "Arden,"  deer  are  reported 
as  more  abundant  than  in  former  years,  and 
the  cienegas  up  on  the  flanks  of  Old  Baldy, 
San  Gorgonio,  San  Bernardino  and  Smith 
Mountain,  ought  to  have  a  plentiful  supply 
of  the  white-tails  when  the  shooters  go  out 
among  them  this  late  summer  and  fall. 

Like  the  famous  quail  cases,  wherein  it  was 
alleged  by  certain  farmers  that  the  little  blue 
game  birds  were  eating  all  their  grapes,  there 
are  a  few  Californians,  living  along  the  edge 
of  the  mountains,  who  charge  that  the  deer  are 
doing  great  harm  to  their  crops,  barking 
certain  of  their  trees,  and  doing  other  damage. 

With  the  farmer  who  is  too  careless,  too 
untidy,  or  too  shiftless  to  fence  his  orchard  or 
his  fields  of  vegetables — for  there  is  no  report 
of  damage  to  grain — these  charges  may  be 
true,  but  the  farmer  is  to  blame  rather  than 
the  deer,  and  if  he  shoots  one  of  these  white- 
tails  out  of  season  he  ought  to  be  prosecuted 
just  as  rigorously  as  the  hunter  who  commits 
the  same  crime. 

From  all  indications,  the  Malibu  Hills,  down 
along  the  ocean  front,  between  Santa  Monica 
and  Hueneme,  are  full  of  deer.  A  friend  of 
mine  just  returned  from  a  two  days  trip 
through  some  government  land  in  these  hills, 
reports  seeing  the  tracks  of  deer  along  each  of 
several  small  streams  the  party  had  occasion 
to  cross. 

The  big  Rindge  estate  in  this  part  of  the 
country  has  been  forced  to  open  its  gates  to 
let  travelers  through ;  the  Gould  road  is  build- 
ing  down   the   coast   to    San   Pedro,   and   the 


<>„ 


WESTERN  III  I  l> 


Malibu  will  soon  be  as  accessible  as  any  of  the 
mountain  regions  along  the  South  Coast.  This 
promises  to  open  to  sportsmen  a  field  for 
bird  and  mountain  lion  and  deer  shooting 
equal  to  any  in  the  State. 

The  forbidding  of  hunters  to  hound  deer  is 
also  doing  something  in  the  way  of  helping 
the  white-tails  in  the  Southwest.  While  deer 
hunting  with  dogs  hereabouts  has  never  been 
as  extensively  practiced  as  it  has  been  in  the 
north  central  counties  of  the  State,  never- 
theless the  opportunity  for  an  occasional 
chase  with  clogs  when  out  on  the  trail  of 
wild  cats  or  coyotes  has  not  been  overlooked 
by  many  of  the  enthusiastic  riders  to  hounds 
in  Southern  California.  As  I  understand  the 
now  law  this  is  all  stopped  now. 

In  Southern  California,  the  white-tail  is 
the  deer  of  the  open  parts  of  the  mountains, 
frequenting  the  pine  flats  where  there  is  little 
or  no  underbrush,  and  the  savannahs  and 
cienegas  in  the  higher  hills.  Where  there  are 
black-tail — which  is  in  mighty  few  places — 
they  will  be  found  in  the  depths  of  brushy 
canons,  hidden  away  in  the  densest  part  of 
the  tree  growth,  and  rarely  if  ever  coming  out 
into  the  open. 

Not  so  very  long  ago  a  white-tail  came  into 
the  streets  of  a  small  foothill  town— Red- 
lands,  I  believe— and  was  chased  out  by  all 
the  men  in  the  little  city.    I  have  seen  them 


alone,  and  in  twos  and  threes  on  the  Mount 
Wilson  (rail  several  times,  and  came  on  four 
■  me  Sunday  afternoon  in  the  meadow  in 
Swartoul  canon  off  the  Cajon  Pass,  back  of, 
San  Bernardino.  And  by  the  way,  I  got  my 
first   white-tail   in   that   same  canon. 

It  all  came  about  this  way:  We  were 
tamped  on  the  slope  of  the  hill,  a  hill  which 
is  almost  one  of  the  shoulders  of  Old  Baldy, 
above  the  spring  and  the  meadow  and  below 
the  camp  of  a  party  of  charcoal  burners,  who 
were  raising  a  terrible  smoke  in  the  valley 
from  their  burning  pits.  Late  one  Sunday 
afternoon  one  of  the  carboncros  came  down 
to  our  camp  and  asked  if  we  wanted  to  hunt 
•  leer.  He  knew  of  a  spring  about  four  miles 
away  across  the  mountain,  where  the  deer 
came  to  drink;  they  were  going  to  clean  out 
the  pits  Monday,  and  if  we  wanted  to  go  he 
could  get  away.  He  figured  that  if  we  started 
about  midnight  we  could  cut  across  the  hills 
and  make  the  spring  in  time  to  catch  a  deer 
in  the  jnorning  at  daybreak. 

We  went,  found  the  spring  about  three 
o'clock,  and  without  going  down  to  the  water 
hole  hid  ourselves  around  it  in  a  sort  of 
semicircle,  behind  a  number  of  clumps  of  rose- 
bushes which  had  been  conveniently  planted 
by  some  kind  providence  just  where  we  could 
make  the  best  use  of  them. 

It  was  neither  a  light  nor  a  dark  night,  but 
one  of  those  periods  of  half-shadow  and  half- 


My  First  Deer 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


97 


light  in  which  you  think  you  know  just  what 
a  thing  is  until  you  get  close  up  to  it  and  find 
what  you  thought  was  a  bear  is  a  stump,  and 
what  you  thought  was  the  head  and  horns  of 
a  deer  is  the  dead  branches  of  a  tree  showing 
white  in  the  moonlight. 

We  waited  until  day  began  creeping  in  over 
the  hilltops,  not  real  day,  but  just  that  white 
foreglow  that  prepares  the  kindred  of  the  wild 
for  the  golden  flood  of  the  full-risen  sun. 
Little  wind  was  blowing  and  what  motion 
there  was  of  the  air  was  up  to  us  from  the 
spring;  a  more  desirable  condition  of  affairs 
could  hardly  have  been  arranged  had  we 
planned  it  ourselves. 

The  dry  creek  bed,  wide  for  a  mountain 
stream,  led  down  from  the  spring,  moistened 
Only  for  a  little  way  by  the  water  which 
gushed  from  the  earth.  Directly  over  my  head 
an  owl,  evidently  disturbed  by  the  influx  of 
men,  let  go  a  soft  "Who-o-o?"  which  seemed 
almost  a  question,  so  human  was  the  voice. 
Far  off  down  the  canon,  some  place  where 
the  sun  was  beginning  to  be  felt,  a  dove  sent 
forth  his  "Coo-oo-oo-oo",  once  repeated,  and 
then  all  was  still. 

I  was  a  mere  boy,  yet  in. my  teens;  I  had 
seen  deer  in  the  wild,  but  had  never  taken  a 
shot  at  one,  and  I  was  nervous.  Everything 
in  the  hills  seemed  to  take  on  the  outlines  of 
an  antlered  head  the  longer  I  looked  at  it. 
Then,  of  a  sudden,  I  saw  a  real  deer,  parting 
the  shadows  with  his  front,  coming  straight 
up  the  bed  of  the  gulch  to  the  spring.  He 
must  have  been  a  very  young  deer,  or  the 
spring  must  have  been  very  safe  and  the 
watering  place  of  his  family  for  generations, 
else  he  had  never  followed  the  bed  of  the 
stream,  but  had  come  down  some  ridge,  where 
he  could  have  overlooked  the  field  before  he 
stooped  his  graceful  head  to  drink. 

About  ten  feet  from  the  spring  he  paused, 
raised  his  head,  on  which  the  horns  were  just 
showing  two  points,  to  my  mind  the  most 
beautiful  horns  in  the  world.  I  was  armed 
with  a  Winchester,  .44  caliber,  a  true  shooting 
gun  but  of  little  penetration  compared  to  the 
.303  and  the  .351  models  of  today. 

For  an  instant  the  animal  gave  a  good 
imitation  of  the  pictures  imaginative  artists 
draw  .  of  his  kind,  "sniffing  the  tainted 
gale",  then  he  turned  broadside  on,  apparently 
expecting  another  deer  or  something  from 
behind — possibly  some  lion  may  have  been 
following  him — but  whatever  it  was,  he  stood 


They    Are    Plentiful    This    Year 

there  just  long  enough  for  me  to  steady  the 
gun  down  on  his  foreshoulder  and  pull  the 
trigger.  The  report  of  the  .44  melted  in  with 
another  from  where  the  charcoal  burner  was 
hidden ;  the  deer  whirled  about  half-way 
round,  and  fell,  shot  through  the  flank  with 
the  .32  and  through  the  heart  with  the  .44. 
Because  I  was  the  youngest  of  the  party  and 
it  was  my  first  deer,  and  because  in  all  prob- 
ability the  shot  from  my  rifle  did  the  real 
killing,  the  head  and  horns  came  to  me  by 
general  consent.  The  meat  we  divided,  and  I 
enjoyed  the  first  deer  steaks  of  my  own  killing 
that  morning  when  we  got  back  to  camp. 

Long  that  head  has  been  destroyed.  First 
it  fell  from  the  wall  and  one  of  the  tines 
was  broken,  and  afterwards  it  went  into  a  fire 
and  never  came  out,  along  with  a  lot  of  other 
natural  history  specimens,  so  that  now  it  is 
only  a  memory,  albeit  a  very  happy  one. 

Going  back  by  another  route,  two  of  the 
boys  got  a  spike  buck,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  mountain.  Him  they  shot  twice,  once  as 
he  sprang  out  of  cover  and  the  second  time 
as  he  stood  in  the  head  of  a  little  ravine 
whither  they  had  run  him.     In  a  short  time 


M 


117  STERN  FIELD 


the  first  shot  would  have  proved  fatal,  but 
the  second  bullet  mercifully  pul  an  end  to  the 
creature's  pain  and  ensured  us  meat  at  th>- 
same  time. 

Hut  waiting  at  a  spring  is  not  my  method 
of  hunting  deer  any  more;  I  would  not  do  it 
now  if  there  was  but  one  deer  in  the  world 
and  1  knew  where  he  drank  nightly.  Hound- 
ing deer  should  be  stopped  by  the  confiscation 
or  the  shooting  of  the  dogs,  and  a  term  in  the 
pen  for  the  hunter.  Hut  when  a  man  goes  out 
into  tin-  hills,  picks  up  a  deer's  trail,  follows  it 
to  a  successful  end.  he  is  entitled  to  the  deer  he 
gets,  whether  he  gets  one  in  a  season  or  half 
i  dozen  and  his  average  score  will  be  a  whole 
lot  nearer  one  each  year  than  it  will  six. 

All  the  hunting  which  all  the  hunters  of 
the  West  can  do  in  this  manner  never  will 
decimate  the  deer  like  the  waiting  at  some 
spring,  or  the  running  down  with  hounds  of 
a  very  few  men  will  do. 

Usually  a  deer's  track  can  be  picked  up  in 
the  early  morning  at  a  spring,  or  along  the 
banks  of  some  small  stream,  and  if  he  is  undis- 
turbed and  merely  heading  for  his  resting 
place  back  in  some  thicket,  the  animal  will 
make  his  way  where  it  is  good  walking ;  and, 
generally  speaking,  where  the  walking  is  good 
the  tracking  will  be  easy,  for  the  earth  will  be 
soft.  He  is  more  apt  to  stick  to  the  semi- 
open  sidehills,  where  he  can  see  as  well  as  be 
seen,  and  where  some  of  his  wild  enemies, 
principally  mountain  lions,  are  less  apt  to  be 
lying  in  wait  for  him. 

The  deer  tracker  must  of  necessity  work 
slowly,  considering  every  step  he  takes,  and 
figuring  out  just  as  near  as  he  can  what  the 
animal  has  done  around  every  point  in  the 
trail.  The  white-tail  makes  one  of  the  best 
and  easiest  trails  to  follow  in  all  the  wild  so 
long  as  he  is  not  hurried,  but  if  the  tracker 
crowds  him  he  is  apt  to  break  into  that  long 


leaping  lope  of  hi-  and  select  the  rocky  side 
of  a  ledge  for  the  performance.  There  noth- 
ing short  of  a  foxhound  or  a  w>lf  could 
follow,  and  the  human  tracker  might  as  well 
begin  all  over  again  at  some  other  spring. 

Like  mountain  lions  and  wild  cats,  there  are 
many  more  deer  in  the  Southwest  than  is 
commonly  supposed.  The  writer  has  sat  in 
the  door  of  a  tent  in  the  Santa  Ana  mountains 
and  seen  four  pass  within  fifty  yards  in  the 
three  hours  from  seven  o'clock  until  ten.  Of 
course  this  was  out  of  the  deer  season ;  the 
camera  was  in  its  case  in  the  tent,  and,  as 
each  deer  passed,  the  spectator  merely  said 
to  himself  "Surely  there  won't  be  another," 
and  so  did  not  bring  the  machine"  out. 

In  the  Charleston  mountains,  backof  Manse, 
over  in  the  Nevada  desert,  the  writer  was  told 
at  the  time  of  his  last  visit  to  that  country 
that  there  were  so  many  deer  that  employes  at 
a  small  sawmill  in  one  of  the  canons  thought 
nothing  of  seeing  from  one  to  ten  a  day.  I 
did  not  get  into  these  mountains  to  hunt,  but 
I  did  hunt  in  other  sections  of  this  region 
under  the  direction  of  the  man  who  told  me 
the  deer  story,  and  found  him  always  truthful. 

On  this  account  I  imagine  that  the  coast 
sportsman  who  would  care  to  take  train  from 
any  of  the  cities  out  to  Manvel  and  then  ride 
the  eighty  odd  miles  by  stage  to  Manse  to 
hunt  in  the  Charleston  hills,  would  be  well  re- 
paid for  his  trouble. 

Lower  California,  in  its  mountain  valleys, 
and  in  that  long  trough  which  runs  down  its 
backbone,  is  full  of  deer,  mostly  white-tails 
of  course,  but  still  there  are  a  great  many 
black-tails  as  well,  probably  more  than  in  Alta 
California.  In  the  southern  end  of. the  State, 
San  Diego  county  offers  the  best  hunting 
ground  I  have  found  for  the  deer  slayer,  south 
of  the  Tehachapi  mountains. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


THE   FOREST 

GREEN,    and    brown,    and    gray,    and    blue, 
Purple  haze  and  spatter  of   red, 
Glint    of    gold    as    it    filters   through 

Swaying    branches    overhead. 
Soft  and  sweet  the  song  of  stream, 

Shadows  that  sway  and  change  and  creep — 
World  of  silence,  world  of  dream — 
This   is  the  heart   of  the   forest   deep. 

Green,   and   brown,   and   gray,   and   blue, 

Odor  of  tree  and  breath   of  mould. 
Over  the  grass  the  gleam  of  dew, 

Stretches  of  verdue   fold  on   fold. 
Through  the  branches,  sky  agleam; 

Here   below,    the   sod   asleep- 
World   of    silence,    world    of   dream— 

This   is   the   heart   of   the   forest   deep. 

— Harry    T.    Fee. 

THE  CANON 

CPRINGTIME  sunshine  in  the  canon 
^      Draws    from    ct'ffs   the    poppy's   gold, 
Crests   the    rocks    with   purple    plumage, 
Where   the   grass  can   scarcely   hold. 

Oh,  the  happiness  and  joy 
In    the    waters,    foaming   bright, 
Leaping,  dashing  o'er  the  boulders 
With   a   song   of   pure   delight. 

Misty  midnight   in  the  canon 
Darkens    either    cliff-like    wall, 
Now   unseen    in   rising   skyward 
When   the   cloud-mists   softly   fall.* 


Oh,   the   mystery   and  awe. 
When  the  river,   lost  to  sight, 
Wildly   roars  or   weirdly   whispers 
In   the   darkness   of  the   night. 

—M.    Pauline   Scott. 

ON    THE    DESERT 

LIE    SITS    alone,    afar    from    human    kind, 
'  ■      On   darkening  desert  sands;   but   all   about 
Is   what   he   hastened  to:   the'  deadly  gold— 
The    shining    thing    that    mocks    the    Mercy-Seat 
And    laughs    at    love   so    far    from    him    tonight — 
Ah,    he    laughs,    too;    a    sickening    sound    that    comes 
From    parching    tongue    and    throat    without    a    voice. 
His    great    amusement    is:    that    all    this    wealth, 
This    tempter    of    men's    souls,    this    lure    to    sin, 
Can   not   procure   for  him  one  glass  of  drink, 
One    drop    of    water    in   this    hell   of   thirst. 
He     tries    to    laugh — Hark!     there     is     ocean's    roar; 
He    thinks    a    laugh — See!    there    is    home    again. 
Wrong:  they  are  phantom  sound  and  sight.     In  gulf 
Of    darkness    and    despair    his    mind    sinks    deep, 
As  prayerless,   comfortless   he   slips  to  death. 


100 


A  Moorland  Me 


ENGLISH  SPORT 


By  R.  Clapham. 


PART  II.     GROUSE  SHOOTING-PAST  AND  PRESENT 


EFORE  giving  an  account  of  an 
actual  day  on  the  moors,  it  will 
perhaps  be  as  well  to  give  the 
reacter  some  idea  of  field  sport 
today,  compared  with  what  it 
was  a  generation  ago. 

In  former  days  the  shooter 
went  out  with  his  pointers  or 
spaniels  and  made  his  modest 
bag  in  a  manner  admittedly 
sportsmanlike,  but  in  reality  his  achievements 
were  for  the  most  part  a  good  deal  simpler 
and  easier  than  the  same  feats  are  at  present. 
Shooting  is  nowadays  carried  on  in  a  man- 
ner totally  unknown  to  our  forefathers,  and 
could  some  of  the  old  timers  turn  in  their 
graves  and  come  to  life  again,  their  surprise 
would  be  great  on  viewing  the  present  con- 
ditions which  govern  sport.  It  is  tacitly  ad- 
mitted nowadays,  by  those  who  know  what 
shooting  really  is  and  should  be,  that  driving 
is  the  neatest,  most  skilful,  as  well  as  the  most 
satisfactory  method  of  killing  winged  game ; 
and  that  it,  above  all  things,  gives  the  birds 
a  chance.  For  a  poor  shot  will  not  wound 
them,  as  he  would  be  sure  to  do  were  they 
put  up  under  his  nose  to  fly  slowly  away. 

We  hear  and  read  of  the  "battue" — the  latter 
■word,  though-  never  used  by  sportsmen,  is  a 
favorite  one  of  the  scribe  as  may  be  seen  by 
perusing  the  pages  of  some  of  the  "sporting" 
novels.  The  "battue"  is  always  referred  to  as 
the  luxurious  refinement  of  slaughter,  where 
easy  shots  and  plenty  of  champagne  are  the 
attractions,  but  thank  goodness  such  events 
take  place  but  very  rarely  in  England. 

At  the  large  majority  of  places  where 
numbers  of  pheasants  are  shot  in  a  day,  it  is 
always  the  aim  and  object  of  the  host  and  his 
keeper  to  send  the  game  as  high  and  fast  as 
possible  over  the  guns.  Pheasant  shooting 
affords  a  day's  outing  and  pay  to  a  great 
number  of  laborers,  who  act  as  beaters,  who 
thoroughly  enjoy  it,  and  it  also  gives  per- 
manent employment  to  a  number  of  keepers. 
It  provides  a:,  'well,  many  thousands  of  the 
middle  class  people  with  pheasants  at  about  the 


price  of  chickens.  In  November  you  may 
purchase  a  brace  of  cock  pheasants  at  four 
shillings,  in  London,  whereas  if  there  were  no 
big  days  of  pheasant  shooting,  they  would  cost 
about  a  guinea  a  brace.  In  reality  there  is 
hardly  a  class  in  the  general  community  which 
does  not  benefit  by  these  big  shoots. 

It  is  a  very  common  and  at  the  same  time 
erroneous  idea,  amongst  people  who  know 
nothing  of  such  sport,  that  the  home-reared 
birds  are  as  tame  as  chickens,  and  as  such 
can    easily   be    shot. 

By  the  middle  or  end  of  November,  at  the 
time  most  of  these  big  shoots  are  held,  the 
so-called  "tame"  birds  cannot  be  distinguished 
from  the  wild  ones ;  which  latter  they  quite 
equal  in  power  of  flight  if  properly  driven  to 
the  guns,  and  therefore  afford  in  consequence 
as  great  an  exhibition  of  skill  on  the  shooter's 
part. 

I  have  heard  men  say  that  such  shoots  are 
cruel  and  resemble  more  the  killing  of  barn- 
yard fowls  than  true  sport ;  but  such  people 
have  never  tried  to  kill  high  flying  pheasants 
coming  over  the  tree-tops,  and  if  they  did  the 
birds  would  be  perfectly  safe  I  am  sure,  at 
least  from  the  guns  of  such  men  as  I  have 
mentioned.  I  write  here  of  shooting  as  it  is, 
and  not  what  it  is  supposed  to  be  by  a  lot 
of  idiots  who  never  attended  a  big  shoot  in 
their  lives,  and  I  leave  it  to  the  reader  to 
determine  for  himself  whether  modern 
methods  in  England  are  sporting  or  no. 

In  the  old  days  shooters  worked  their  dogs 
in  thick  stubble  or  on  the  heather,  and  loved 
to  watch  their  favorites  point  staunchly  and 
back  one  another  up  as  they  did  so.  Such  sport 
was  interesting,  but  yet  slow,  as  birds  lay  well 
and  rose  as  easy  straight-away  shots.  Under 
some  circumstances,  with  perfectly  broken 
dogs  on  wild  grouse  or  partridges  late  in  the 
season,  it  is  extremely  interesting;  with  dogs 
but  partially  broken  or  even  fairly  well  so, 
it  is  anything  but  good  sport. 

In  Scotland  grouse  are  usually  walked  up 
with  dogs,  at  any  rate  on  most  of  the  moors, 
as   they   lie    well    in    that    c»u.itry.      There   is 


J/7  si  IK\    1111. D 


A    Lawkland    Moor    Keeper 

better  ground  for  them  to  do  so  than  in  Eng- 
land, nor  arc  they  so  numerous  there  as  to 
make  driving  worth  while,  or  as  a  necessity  to 
reduce  their  numbers,  as  is  the  case  in  Eng- 
land. In  England  they  are  driven  to  the  guns, 
and  the  very  best  of  the  moors  arc  in  that 
country.  Since  driving  came  into  fashion 
the  grouse  stock  has  increased  enormously. 
Various  reasons  are  set  forth  to  account  for 
this,  such  as  the  older  cocks  being  killed  off, 
as  they  lead  the  packs  up  to  the  guns,  leaving 
a  younger  breeding  stock,  but  this  increase  has 


n.. i  roily  been  perfectly  explained.  As  driving 

cum-  in,  and  birds  increased,  moors  were 
better  watched  and  looked  after,  care  was 
ed  on  them  as  never  before,  and 
I  wire  prevented  from  killing  birds 
after  the  moors  were  deserted  by  their  owners. 
Netting,  shooting  and  "calling",  were  methods 
employed  by  these  poachers,  the  latter  practice 
being  B  most  deadly  one. 

When  grouse  lie  well  to  dogs,  they  offer 
an  easy  mark  when  flushed,  unless  they  are 
very  wild,  when  the  reverse  is  the  case.  When 
driven  birds,  however,  are  shot,  every  chance 
is  a  thorough  test  of  marksmanship.  An  easy 
shot  at  driven  birds  is  quite  an  exception. 
Grouse  flying  fast  down  wind  tax  the  skill 
of  even  the  most  expert  shots  and  are  missed 
again  and  again  by  an  average  shot.  A  man 
unaccustomed  to  this  kind  of  shooting  takes 
days  and  days  of  practice  before  he  can  stop 
one  bird  for  every  three  shots  fired,  even 
though  he  be  above  the  average  at  ordinary 
game  shooting.  Two  grouse  to  every  five 
shots,  taken  as  they  come  one  day  with 
another,  is  first-class  work. 

The  phenomenal  shooting  by  such  men  as 
Earl  de  Grey,  Lord  Wakingham,  the  Mahar- 
ajah Dhuleep  Singh,  Lord  Newport,  Mr.  A. 
Stuart-Wortley,  and  Sir  Frederick  Milbank, 
who  will  at  all  reasonable  distances  account  for 
from  forty  to  forty-five  birds  out  of  sixty  shot 
at,  whether  grouse,  partridges,  or  pheasants,  is 
quite  exceptional,  and  results  from  a  wonder- 
ful power  of  judgment  of  pace  and  distance 
of  flight,  as  well  as  from  long  and  constant 
practice.  A  man  may  consider  himself  a 
crack  shot,  but  his  first  experience  at  driven 
grouse  will  in  all  probability  undeceive  him 
greatly  to  his  surprise.  The  shooters  above 
mentioned  rarely  fail  to  stop  four  birds  out  of 
a  pack  coming  over  them,  using  two  guns, 
and  with  a  single  gun  a  brace  is  almost  a 
certainty. 

It  will  strike  the  novice  as  something  very 
curious  when  he  thinks  of  the  number  of  birds 
he  misses  at  a  distance  of  fifteen  or  twenty 
yards.  Such  .  mistakes  are  made  usually 
because  the  shooter  fires  too  soon,  the  bird- 
looks  so  plain,  that  it  appears  to  be  far  nearer 
than  it  really  is.  Judging  distance  is  of  the 
very  greatest  importance  in  grouse  and  part- 
ridge driving,  as  it  is  in  all  other  shooting, 
but  in  the  former  far  more  so,  for  very  many 
side  shots  occur.  Partridge  driving  is  very 
similar  to  grouse  driving,  though  more  shots 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


103 


are  probably  wasted  at  partridge  than  grouse. 

The  latter  birds  hardly  ever  fly  slowly, 
except  in  a  strong  head  wind,  and  as  they 
usually  rise  at  least  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from 
the  butts,  they  are  at  full  speed  when  passing 
over  the  guns.  They  present  larger  marks  than 
partridges,  but  are  stronger,  and  require  more 
shot  to  stop  them.  It  is  surprising  how 
close  you  can  kill  a  grouse  without  spoiling  it, 
for  many  shots  glance  off  their  feathers, 
especially  those  of  the  wings.  A  grouse 
shooter  can  see  on  all  sides  of  him,  and  can 
prepare  for  the  birds  long  before  they  reach 
him,  whereas  at  partridges  he  as  a  rule  can- 
not get  so  clear  a  view  of  approaching  birds 
before  they  reach  him. 

As  to  the  increase  of  game  in  England, 
pheasants  are  what  form  the  immense  addi- 
tion to  our  stock.  In  1820,  pheasants  were 
rather  scarce  on  the  average  sporting  estate, 
but  from  that  date  they  have  steadily  in- 
creased. Men  have  settled  down  to  country 
life,  and  pay  far  more  attention  to  game 
than  was  the  custom  of  their  forefathers. 
The  record  bags  of  pheasants  have  been  from 
time  to  time  much  denounced,  but  could  the 
people  who  denounced  them  have  taken  part 
in  the  sport,  they  would  have  been  much 
surprised  at  the  extremely  difficult  shooting- 
necessary  to  amass  such  bags. 

On  the  estates  of  such  men  as  I  have 
previously  mentioned,  the  shooting  of  1000 
pheasants  a  day  is  no  unusual  occurrence, 
sometimes  as  many  as  2000  fall  to  the  guns, 
and  10,000  in  a  season  is  often  the  total. 

We  hear  and  read  of  men  who  run  down 
driving  game,  and  who  write  of  the  "good 
old  days,"  saying  that  true  sportsmen  shoot 
their  partridges  on  the  stubble,  using  dogs 
to  find  them.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  there  is 
today  in  England,  owing  to  close  cutting, 
hardly  a  stubble  field  which  would  shelter  a 
rat,  much  less  a  covey  of  partridges.  It  is 
for  just  this  reason  that  dogs  are  now  useless, 
as  birds  would  rise  all  day  far  out  of  shot, 
and  so  driving  is  necessary.  I  cannot  in  the 
space  here  allotted  go  into  the  details  of 
driving  versus  dogs,  and  explain  the  advant- 
ages of  the  modern  system,  but  refer  my 
readers  to  such  excellent  books  as  The  Bad- 
minton Library  series,  where  they  will  find 
a  clear  and  concise  statement  of  the  different 
facts.  If  pheasants  have  increased,  they  are 
almost   equaled    by    grouse.      The   latter    are 


purely    wild   birds,    raising   and    rearing   their 
young  witli  no  human  aid  whatever. 

I  give  here  a  list  of  the  best  moors  in 
Yorkshire,  viz : — The  'Bowes'  moors  in  North 
Yorkshire ;  the  'Wemmergill'  portion  of  which 
is  rented  by  Sir  Frederick  Milbank,  Bart., 
M.  P.,  and  the  'High  Force'  section  rented  by 
various  sportsmen.  The  Bromhead  moor,  near 
Sheffield,  the  Marquis  of  Ripon's  near  Ripon, 
the  Duke  of  Devonshire's  near  Bolton,  Mr. 
C.  Lister's  near  Masham,  Lord  Downe's  near 
Pickering,  the  'Arkendale'  moor  near  Recth 
in  Swaledale,  and  the  Blubberhouse  moor  near 
Harrogate.  The  most  famous  of  these  are 
the    Wemmergill     moors     (14,000    acres)     on 


which  17,073  grouse  were  killed  in  one  season 
in  1872,  which  was  a  record  grouse  year. 

The  largest  bag  ever  made  in  one  day,  by 
one  shooter  was  on  the  Blubberhouse  moor 
in  1872,  when  on  August  27th,  Lord  Waking- 
ham  killed  842  birds.  The  next  largest  bag 
was  (728)  made  by  Sir  F.  Milbank  in  the 
same  season,  and  also  in  Yorkshire. 

The  details  of  six  days'  shooting  in  1872, 
on  the  Wemmergill  moors  are  here  appended, 
the  facts  were  published  at  the  time  in  the 
English  Field  newspaper. 

The  total  amounted  to  3,983y>  brace.  The 
number  of  guns  varied  from  day  to  day  as 
shown  by  the  blanks  opposite  the  names  in 
the  list.  On  the  28th,  the  day  was  wet  and 
wind   high,   accounting   for   the   small   total. 

The  whole  day's  proceedings  lasted  nearly 
twelve  hours,  but  the  actual  time  of  shooting 
in  the  eight  drives  was  not  more  than  -half  an 
hour  each  on  the  average,  or  a  total  of  four 
hours'  shooting. 


WESTERN  FIELD 


The  Author,  His  Dog,  and  a   Day's  Bag 


Aug. 

Aug. 

Aug 

Aup. 

Aug. 

Auk. 

20 

21 

23 

2s 

30 

Brace 

Brace 

Brace 

Brace 

Brace 

Sh-F.MilbankM.P. 

MA 

214!-. 

12% 

185 

87 

119) 

MrM.W.Vane  Mil 

bank     - 

145 

144 

86 

Mr.     Powlett    Mil 

bank     -    -    - 

163 

73 

81 

II" 

<a\ 

80 

Mr.  Preston-    •    • 

112 

60 

75 

Lord  Rivers    -    - 

K 

•MH 

98 

« 

66 

re    -    -    - 

149 

46 

63 

Mr.  h;iirfaK      ■    - 

123 

<s'  . 

43 

Col.  btranhenzee  ■ 

<>S 

28 

Collinson    -    •    • 

126 

112 

86K 

141  '_> 

73 

VS1- 

Total  brace.  3.983K 

1  035 

603': 

552": 

905 

364 

523'  j 

Sir  Frederick's  bag  of  364  brace,  on  the 
20th,  was  made  in  eight  drives,  as  follows: 
First  drive,  24  brace ;  second,  38  brace ;  third, 
46  brace ;  fourth,  Uyi  brace ;  fifth,  70  brace ; 
sixth,  95  brace ;  seventh,  55J/-I  brace ;  eighth, 
21  brace.  The  sixth  drive  in  which  he  killed 
95  brace,  lasted  only  twenty-three  minutes,  so 
that  he  averaged  more  than  eight  birds  a 
minute  during  that  time. 

At  the  present  time  in  England  a  hundred 
brace  of  grouse  by  driving  is  a  moderate  bag 


for  one  day;  a  hundred  and  fifty  to  two  hun- 
dred brace  a  fair  day's  sport  on  a  well- 
stocked  moor.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  to  three 
hundred  a  good  day,  and  anything  over  this 
is  very  good  indeed.  It  is  only  in  Yorkshire 
where  the  big  bags  are  made,  and  the  number 
of  moors  can  be  counted  on  the  fingers  of 
one  hand,  which  produce  them. 

Thus  we  see  that  to  -"keep  one's  end  up" 
at  driven  grouse  requires  extreme  skill  with 
the  gun,  and  those  who  scoff  at  such  sport  in 
England  can  surely  know  but  little,  or  any- 
thing of  the  real  state  of  affairs.  There  are 
many  other  Yorkshire  moors  where  100  brace  • 
per  day  are  often  killed  during  the  first  five 
or  six  days,  after  that  period  the  numbers  de- 
crease. The  photos  accompanying  this  article 
were  taken  on  Lawkland  moor  in  West  York- 
shire, shot  over  by  Mr.  A.  A.  Watkins  and 
party,  the  former  being  a  personal  friend  of 
the  writer. 


* 

A  HUNTER'S   STORY   OF 
OLDEN  TIMES 

4 

By  Dr.  Henry  J.  Kreutzmann. 


HEN  quite  a  small  boy,  years  ago. 
I  read  in  a  German  sporting 
magazine  ("Der  Waidmann")  a 
hunter's  story  which  impressed 
itself  upon  my  mind  most  deeply 
and  which  I  consider  well 
worthy  of  being  read  by  my 
American  brethren  in  Huberto. 
I  cannot  recollect  the  name  of 
the  writer ;  I  shall  try  hard  to 
reproduce  his  narrative  as  best  I  can ;  I  sup- 
pose he  has  wandered  since  into  the  happy 
hunting  grounds  and  I  am  writing  this  down 
with  due  reverence  and  credit  to  his  author- 
ship. 

The  scene  was  laid  in  Pomerania  on  the 
estate  of  a  count ;  the  time  was  some  hun- 
dred and  fifty  years  ago,  when  they  used  flint 
stone  on  their  guns,  when  game  was  plentiful 
and  when  deep  religious  feeling  had  a  strong 
hold  upon  the  people,  high  and  low,  rich  and 
poor  alike;  it  was  the  time  when  it  was  sin- 
cerely believed  that  his  Satanic  majesty,  the 
Devil,  was  taking  an  active  interest  in  the 
affairs  of  this  world. 

Now,  on  that  Pomeranian  count's  estate  was 
a  large  forest  with  lots  of  game ;  the  count 
had  a  hunting  lodge  there  and  he  spent  a  good 
deal  of  his  time  enjoying  the  royal  sport. 
Near  by  was  a  village  and  at  the  outskirts  of 
the  village,  close  to  the  forest,  was  living  one 
of  the  count's  keepers.  This  man  was  a 
mighty  hunter,  well  versed  in  woodcraft,  and 
for  that  reason  well  liked  by  the  count,  who 
usually  had  him  as  a  companion  when  hunt- 
ing. He  was  an  old  man,  with  grizzly  hair 
and  piercing,  ever  watchful  eyes ;  agile  and 
quick  of  motion  like  a  young  fellow.  Nobody 
in  the  village  or  in  the  chateau  could  tell  how 
old  he  really  was ;  nobody  ever  had  seen  him 
look  different  from  what  he  looked  then. 

He  loved  his  woods  and  the  wild  game  and 
he  exercised  the  utmost  vigilance  to  protect 
the  forest  from  poachers.  There  is  an  old 
saying  in  Germany,  "Die  Furcht  muss  den 
Wald  huten,"  which  means  that  fear  alone  can 
effectively  protect  the  forest,  and  the  old  man 


knew  this  very  well,  and  he  did  everything  in 
his  power  to  strike  terror  into  the  hearts  of 
the  villagers.  When  they  least  expected  him, 
he  would  bear  down  upon  them ;  whole  days 
and  nights  he  would  spend  at  times  in  the 
forest ;  knowing  all  trails  and  the  outlay  of 
the  country,  he  would  find  his  way  in  the 
darkest  night ;  being  quick  on  his  feet  he 
would  surprise  people  at  widely  separated 
places  in  a  short  time,  one  after  another — all 
this,  with  his  longevity  and  his  apparently  in- 
destructible health,  had  by  and  by  originated 
the  firm  belief  amongst  thhe  villagers  that  he 
had  made  a  contract  with  the  Devil,  that  he 
did  not  own  his  soul  any  more,  but  that  it 
was  the  Devil's  and  that  the  Devil  made  him 
invisible,  carried  him  through  the  air,  and  all 
such  things  as  were  honestly  believed  by  our 
ancestors. 

The  old  man  naturally  heard  of  this  and  he 
liked  it  and  did  everything  he  could  to 
strengthen  the  people's  belief,  since  it  helped 
him  to  protect  the  forest.  This  talk  of  the 
villagers  also  reached  the  people  in  the  castle, 
and  when  the  count  came  once  more  to  his 
estate  to  spend  some  time  a-hunting,  the 
keeper  of  the  castle  braced  himself  up  suf- 
ficiently, went  before  the  count,  told  him  what 
everybody  knew  as  a  fact,  that  his  favorite 
keeper  was  the  Devil's  and  implored  his  mas- 
ter, for  the  sake  of  his  immortal  soul  not  to 
go  hunting  with  that  man  any  more. 

The  count  had  listened  with  deep  emotion 
to  the  castelan's  stories ;  he  had  his 
religious  feelings  thoroughly  convinced  of  the 
possibility  of  what  he  had  heard,  still  he  was 
fond  of  his  game-keeper  and  he  decided  to 
make  a  test  with  him  himself,  before  he 
would  pass  final  judgment. 

So  he  ordered  the  old  man  to  go  hunting 
with  him  as  usual.  But  before  he  went  he 
took  some  pasteboard,  cut  it  and  fixed  it  with 
glue,  so  that  it  would  look  and  appear  like  a 
flint-stone,  as  it  was  used  on  the  flintlock  of 
the  rifle.  Hunting  in  those  days,  as  in  the 
present  time,  is  frequently  done  in  these  wide, 
open  forests  on  a  wagon ;  they  call  it  "purssh- 


II  I  S  VERS   FIELD 


fahren,"  which  mi. uis  stillhunt-driving.  The 
hunter  sits  mi  a  wagon,  as  the  peasant!  use 
tin-in.  and  ■  skilled  in.iii  drivel  through  the 
forest,  i'ii  roads  or  fire  lines,  , .r  strii^ht 
through  the  woods.  The  game  is  used  to 
these  vehicles,  since  the  peasants  drive  them 
frequently  through  the  woods,  and  the  deer 
will  not  run  away;  if  lying  down,  they  get 
up  when  they  see  the  wagon,  and  they  "ill 
follow,  with  1 1 1 1- i r  eyes,  the  team,  their  whole 
attention  centered  in  the  vehicle.  A  skillful 
driver  kiiow>  how  close  to  get,  without  putting 
them  on  the  run  (for  they  will  run,  when  the 
wagon  nets  in  a  certain  distance,  anyhow)  ;  he 
observes  tin-  wind,  ami  while  he  keeps  on 
driving  anil  winding,  the  hunter  slips  from 
the  wagon  and  under  wind  stalks  up  to  his 
game,  selects  his  prey  and  plants  a  telling 
sin  it.  I  know  this  practice  from  personal  ex- 
perience, since  I  have  been  on  such  a  wagon 
repeatedly,  stalking  fallow  deer  in  the  forests 
of  Hessia. 

When  mi  the  next  day  the  count  went  out 
stillhunt-driving  with  his  old  keeper,  he 
dropped  something  intentionally,  and  after  a 
little  while  missed  it  and  sent  the  old  man 
after  it;  he  offered  to  hold  his  gun  in  the 
meantime  and  he  now  quickly  removed  the 
flintstone  from  the  keeper's  gun  and  placed 
his  makeshift  flintstone  in  its  stead.  1 1  is 
reckoning  was :  If  a  man  really  succeeds  in 
firing  a  gun  with  pasteboard  then  indeed  must 
he  be  the  Devil's ! 

Shortly  afterward  they  came  on  some  roes, 
and,  as  he  had  done  often  before,  the  count  told 
the  keeper  to  kill  that  buck  over  there ;  the 
driver  went  on,  the  old  man  slipped  off  the 
wagon,  and  after  a  little  while — bang !  sounded 
the  sharp  report  of  the  rifle  through  the  finest 
and  the  roebuck  fell  dead. 


I  In-  count  was  teri  ifii  ■! .  in-  did  nol  dare  t" 
look  around  tor  tin-  keeper,  but  urged  the 
ili mi  in  hurry  homewards. 

He  was  fiilK  convinced  now  thai  his  keeper 

hail  a  pact  with  the  Devil;  he  thought  he  had 
in. ule  a  fair  ami  impartial  trial  and  the  result 
affirmed  indeed  the  general  belief  of  the  people 
mi  his  estate.  So  when  later  the  old  fellow 
came  to  the  chateau,  the  count  at  first  did  not 
dare  to  let  him  come  before  him;  but  finally 
the  thought  prevailed  upon  him  that  he  might 
•  ■  the  keeper's  soul  from  hell  and  so  he 
ordered  him  into  his  presence. 

lie  told  him  what  he  heard;  but  that  he 
wanted  himself  to  make  a  test;  also  told  him, 
what  he  had  done  with  his  flintstone  and  that 
he  was  sorry  indeed  now  to  see,  that  the  peo- 
ple were  right,  since  only  with  the  Devil's  aid 
could  a  man  fire  a  gun  with  pasteboard  for  a 
flintstone. 

When  the  count  had  finished,  the  old  man 
said:  "May  your  highness  allow  me  to  say  a 
few  words!  1  know  quite  well  what  the  people 
believe  of  me  and  I  do  everything  to 
strengthen  their  belief,  for  no  other  reason 
but  to  protect  the  forest  and  the  game.  When 
you  ordered  me  to  shoot  that  buck,  before 
[Hitting  my  gun  to  the  shoulder  I  went  over 
the  flintstone  with  my  nail  to  sharpen  it,  as  is 
the  good  old  hunter's  rule  and  then  I  saw  that 
somebody  had  played  me  a  trick.  I  always 
carry  with  me  a  reserve  stone,  so  I  removed 
that  useless  one  and  put  my  reserve  stone  on 
and  fired." 

The  count  thereafter  went  many  times  to 
hunt  on  his  estate  in  Pomerania,  and  as  long 
as  the  old  keeper  lived  he  was  his  steady 
companion  on  his  shooting  excursions. 


By  Raglan  Glascock. 


Mount  Baker,  or  "Kulschan"  as  it  is  known '  by  the  Indian  name,  is  situated  in  almost  the  center  of 
Whatcom  County  in  the  State  of  Washington,  about  twenty-five  miles  south  of  the  Canadian  line.  It  is 
perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of  all  the  Sound  mountains.  Its  serrated  ridge  seemingly  rises  from  the  water's 
edge;   in   reality  it  is  fifty  miles  inland. 

It  was  first  ascended  in  1868  from  the  middle-fork  of  the  Noosack  River  by  an  exploring  party  who 
climbed  the  southern  slope  to  a  sharp  arete  which  soars  directly  to  the  summit.  Again  it  was  climbed  in 
1892,    1896   and    1898    by   other    mountaineers,    following   the    same   general    route. 

Mount  Baker  with  its  typical  Alpine  glaciers  and  wonderful  flora  is  excelled  nowhere  on  the  Pacific 
Coast;  it  presents  fresh  fields  for  the  botanist  and  geologist.  With  this  aim  in  view  the  Mazama  Club, 
a  few  years  ago,  set  out  to  conquer  its  precipitous  slopes;  but,  owing  to  the  dense  Washington  jungle 
and  frequency  of  swamps  they  were  lost  and  forced  to   return  to   Portland   with  the   feat   unaccomplished. 

Some  of  the  hardier  mountain-climbers  chafing  under  the  delay  and  difficulty  in  fighting  a  way  to 
the  base  of  the  mountain  proper,  through  the  co-operation  of  the  Bellingham  Chamber  of  Commerce  in 
1906,   built   a  trail   to  the   base  of  the  mountain,   after   months   of   brushing   and   rough   grading. 

Their  point  of  attack  was  the  northeast  side.  But,  after  spending  three  weeks  at  the  base  of  the 
mountain,    the    glacier    proved    too    steep,    the    crevasses  too  wide,  and  as  a  club  they  decided  to  give  it  up. 

Finally,  two  parties  of  three  members  each  succeeded  in  getting  over  to  the  south  side  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  gaining  the  summit  where  Mr.  Glisan's  party  discovered  the  message  I  had  left  for  them.  An 
authentic  account  of  the  hitherto  unclimbed  slope  of  Baker  (according  to  the  residents  of  Glacier,  Wash- 
ington),    and     of    its     hardships     I     will    attempt     to  give    in   the    following    article. 


OT  being  able  to  ascend  "Mt. 
Baker  with'  the  Mazama  club 
on  account  of  a  previous  trip 
planned  into  the  Selkirks  and 
Canadian  Rockies,  I  determined 
to  arrange  for  the  Baker  climb 
earlier  than  the  date  set  by  the 
club. 

With  this  intention  I  searched 
for  a  suitable  companion,  but 
companions  were  scarce ;  in  fact  none  were 
to  be  had.  I  hated  to  give  up  the  quest 
on  which  I  had  traveled  a  thousand  miles, 
and  yet  to  go  alone  seemed  foolhardy. 
I  did  not  know  the  country,  there  were  no 
regular  trails,  and  altogether  my  information 
was  of  the  vaguest. 

For  two  days  I  hesitated.  If  I  did  not  make 
the  ascent  the  world  would  still  move,  and  I 
turned  away  from  its  allurement.  But  the 
spirit  of  the  mountain  called  to  me  night  by 
night  as  I  watched  the  fading  purple  of  its 
outline,  and  forced  an  answer. 

July  Fourth  I  was  on  my  way  to  the  sleepy 
little  town  of  Sumas  on  the  international 
border.  Here  I  found  that  the  train  wanted 
was  scheduled  to  leave  at  5  p.  m.  Of  the 
seven  hours  spent  watching  the  regulation 
antics  of  a  Fourth  of  July  celebration  the  least 
said  the  better.  Patriotism  is  good,  but 
patriotism  and  a  hundred  degrees  Fahrenheit 
do  not  go  well  together.     Even  the  scream  of 


the  American  eagle  is  weak  and  uncertain. 
After  seeming  ages  of  Dante's  Inferno,  in  the 
distance  a  whistle  sounded  and  with  its  dying 
notes  the  B.  B.  and  B.  C.  train  pulled  into  the 
station. 

It  was  eight  forty-five  when  I  stepped  from 
the  combination  baggage  and  smoker  to  the 
platform  of  Glacier  station.  The  view  was 
most  discouraging.  On  all  sides  underbrush 
thicker  than  the  hair  on  a  cat's  back  bristled 
up  precipitous  mountains,  while  in  the  distance 
loomed  my  destination,  white,  real,  tangible, 
tantalizingly  far  away. 

Knowing  nothing  of  the  topography  of  the 
country,  my  steps  were  directed  to  the  hotel. 
There,  inquiries  elicited  nothing  satisfactory. 
Everybody  had  misty  ideas,  but  nobody  was 
sure  in  information.  I,  in  turn,  was  burdened 
with  queries,  "Going  prospecting,  pardner? 
Say  that's  a  d —  funny  pick  you  got  thar ! 
What's  it  used  for?  Looks  like  a  picaroon," 
one  lumber  sage  quizzically  remarked. 

Finally  I  came  upon  an  old  settler,  Mr. 
Cornell,  who  had  been  around  the  base  of 
Mt.  Baker  and  over  some  of  its  glaciers,  but 
never  to  the  summit.  Various  blazed  trails 
that  led  to  prospector's  cabins  in  the  vicinity 
were  suggested ;  but  the  two  that  seemed  most 
practical  were:  the  route  planned  by  the 
Mazamas  up  Well's  creek,  and  the  trail  that 
led  to  abandoned  coal  mines  and  thence  blazed 
until  within  six  miles  of  the  base  of  the  moun- 
tain. 


108 


WESTER*,   FIELD 


The  Three  Domes  of  Mt.  Baker 
ingly  at  My  Feet,  the  Grand  God  Mountain 


I  decided  to  take  the  latter,  as  the  Mazama 
trail  necessitated  a  trudge  of  seven  miles  over 
a  dusty  road. 

At  9:15  p.  m.,  with  blankets,  camera 
and  provisions  strapped  to  my  back,  I  took  the 
railroad  track  toward  Cornell  siding,  a  half 
mile  below  Glacier.  Anyone  who  has  hit  the 
sleepers  after  dark  with  a  thirty-five  pound 
pack  and  an  ice  ax  knows  exactly  what  that 
half  mile  was. 

Cornell  siding  reached,  a  fifteen  minute 
scramble  through  the  brush  followed,  hunt- 
ing for  that  illusive  Coal  Hill  trail.  Finally, 
feeling  it  out  in  the  darkening  twilight,  a 
steep  ascent  began,  which  ever  climbed  until 
it  seemed  that  I  must  reach  the  clouds.  I 
camped  at  eleven-fifteen  beside  a  small  stream, 
oblivious  to  inquiring  porcupines  or  whistling 
marmots. 

At  one  twenty-five,  long  before  dawn,  I  had 
eaten  my  frugal  breakfast  of  soda  crackers 
and  was  again  on  my  way.  After  an  hour,  I 
found  that  the  trail  branched.  Here  was  a 
dilemma.     I  had  not  been  told  of  this.     Which 


branch  must  I  follow?  The  right  led  straight 
up  the  hill,  while  the  other  swung  round  the 
left  flank.  I  had  had  enough  climbing  for  a 
while  and  concluded  to  keep  to  the  left.  In 
twenty  minutes  I  came  to  an  old  log  cabin 
which  had  been  described  to  me.  Here  the 
horse  trail  ceased ;  and  from  now  on  I  had  to 
follow  blazes.  This  I  did  for  over  two  hours 
and  then  became  worried.  The  trail  was  run- 
ning at  right  angles  to  my  proposed  destina- 
tion. However,  fortune  favored  me  and  at 
half  past  six  another  prospector's  cabin  hove 
in  sight,  and  I  found  from  its  occupant  that  I 
was  headed  in  the  right  direction. 

Eight  a.  m.,  and  still  the  trail  went  up.  I 
began  to  pant  painfully,  my  pack  took  on  the 
weight  of  a  ton.  Would  the  climbing  never 
cease?  I  felt  as  if  I  had  climbed  ten  thousand 
feet  since  last  night.  With  a  bound  of  joy  my 
tired  body  responded  when  the  summit  of  the 
first  divide  came  into  sight.  Vainly  I  looked 
for  a  glimpse  of  Mt.  Baker.  On  all  sides 
stretched  vast  ridges  blanketed  with  snow, 
clothed  with  dense  thickets  of  alders  and  young 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


109 


fir,  and  scarred  with  the  avalanches  of  cen- 
turies. I  sat  down  to  my  second  breakfast  of  a 
can  of  sardines  and  more  soda  crackers. 

Here  the  trait  turned  to  the  left,  and  I 
traveled  again  in  the  direction  of  the  calling 
mountain.  But  still  the  trail  and  I  hugged  the 
sidehill,  and  still  we  went  up.  At  twelve 
o'clock  I  reached  the  summit  of  the  second 
divide.  After  a  half  hour's  rest  I  lunched  on  a 
can  of  deviled  ham,  soda  crackers  and  much 
snow-water. 

Seemingly  from  my  feet  rose  the  great  god- 
mountain  Baker  or  "Kulschan,"  as  the  Indians 
more  musically  call  it.  Behind  lay  ridge  upon 
ridge  massed  in  confusion,  as  if  hurled  by  a 
titan  hand  into  castellated  rock  peaks  or 
rounded  snow-domes. 

Again  two  routes  were  laid  open.  One  was 
to  go  down  the  steep  sides  of  the  pass  to  where 
at  this  height  (5800  feet)  could  be  heard  the 
mad  ravings  of  the  angry  waters  of  Glacier 
creek,  three  thousand  feet  below ;  the  other 
was  to  descend  to  the  right  about  five  hundred 
feet  and  then  ascend  eight  hundred  feet  to 
the  adjacent  ridge.  I  decided  upon  the  latter. 
This  ridge  seemed  welded  to  Mt.  Baker  in  a 
far-reaching  cirque,  but  after  four  hours' 
traveling  on  the  hog-back,  and  climbing  over 
watersheds,  the  mountain  was  no  nearer.  If 
I  persisted  in  my  present  course  it  would  be 
six  hours  at  least  before  I  could  reach  a 
camping  ground  suitable  for  tomorrow's 
ascent.  Below,  hid  in  shadow,  roared  the 
waters  of  Glacier  creek,  but  I  determined  that 
rather  than  play  steeplechase  over  ridges  I 
would  dare  the  underbrush  and  shadow. 
Stumbling,  sliding  and  crawling  I  reached  the 
bottom  and  crossed  the  creek  on  a  fallen  log 
which  nature  had  providentially  cast  on  my 
way.  Now  came  a  weary  mile  through  dense 
alder  thickets,  over  deadfalls  thickly  twined 
with  thorny  flora  enough  to  supply  a  botanist 
with  a  year's  research. 

At  last  the  real  climb  began,  over  a  forty- 
five  degree  dirt  slope,  studded  with  bear  clover, 
and  here  and  there  sprinkled  with  Star  of 
Bethlehem.  How  that  old  line  from  Gray's 
Elegy  wandered  through  my  fagged  senses ! 
Here  was,  in  truth,  "full  many  a  flower,"  but 
its  sweetness  was  not  wasted;  it  was  like  wine. 
Six-thirty  found  me  worn  out  at  the  end  of 
a  steep  arete,  projecting  far  into  the  snow  at  an 
altitude  of  5600  feet.  After  a  dinner  of  canned 
beef,  soda  crackers  and  snow-water,  I  made  a 
startling  discovery.     Aside  from  a  small  pack- 


A  Gaping  Crevasse 


v^ 

Ik 

^■fl 

Amongst  the  Seracs 


//'/  STERA   FIELD 


age  of  raisins  and  three  soda  crackers  there 
was  no  food  left  Should  I  turn  back?  No, 
I  had  not  come  this  far  to  be  balked  by  the 
loss  of  such  a  small  matter  as  food.  I  was  dead 
tired  and  couldn't  rouse  myself  enough  to 
care.  Let  tomorrow  take  care  of  itself,  and 
I  fell  asleep  in  spite  of  the  mosquitoes,  the 
setting,  flaring  sun,  the  bright  moon  which  fol- 
lowed, and  the  sharp  pointed  rocks  on  which 
I  lay. 

At  one-fifteen,  July  sixth,  the  crackers  disap- 
peared and  with  them  a  small  package  of 
raisins;  still,  plenty  of  snow-water  was  left. 
My  path  led  up  a  steep  snow-slope  bounded 
on  each  side  by  volcanic  aretes  lighted  by  the 
silvery  rays  of  a  July  moon.  Not  until  now 
did  I  realize,  in  the  face  of  the  harder  climb 
of  today,  the  full  effects  of  yesterday's  trip 
upon  my  knees  and  legs. 

To  make  matters  worse,  a  warm  wind  was 
blowing  across  fhe  snow,  and  at  every  step  I 
sank  to  the  ankles.  The  snow-tongue  seemed 
eternally  long.  After  the  better  part  of  an 
hour  of  ploughing  upward,  the  ascent  became 
more  gentle,  and  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
coveted   summit.     I   increased  my  pace,  to  be 


brought  to  an  abrupt  stop  by  a  gaping  crevasse, 
about  which  I  was  forced  to  make  a  detour  to 
the  left,  thus  losing  three  or  four  hundred  feet 
of  gained  ground. 

As  I  rounded  a  huge  serac,  a  mighty  view 
lay  before  me.  In  the  far  east  spread  a  rosy 
glow.  Half  smothered  in  the  mist-haze  piled' 
myriads  of  snow  peaks,  grim  and  silent.  To 
the  north  reared  "Sluicksan" — the  mountain 
of  many  noises — so  named  from  the  peculiar 
soughing  of  the  wind  among  its  rocks.  Below 
uplifted  the  great  serac-ed  surface  of  the 
Glacier  creek  glacier,  crossed  and  recrossed 
by  a  gigantic  network  of  crevasses,  a  mighty 
river  of  ice  from  whose  neve  avalanches  thun- 
dered. This  glacier  seemed  much  larger  than 
the  famous  Nisqually  of  Rainier,  its  ice  fields 
more  numerous,  its  crevasses  more  beautiful. 

For  three  hours  I  skirted  the  edge  of  the 
glacier,  dodging  seracs,  or  wriggling  across 
shaky  snow-bridges  that  crackled  ominously 
under  my  weight. 

The  direction  now  followed  led  me  in  as 
straight  a  line  as  possible  to  a  swale  between 
the  main  peak  and  the  nearest  of  the  two 
Sisters.  Seemingly  a  mile  away,  never  have  I 
traveled  so  long  a  mile.  I  thought  every 
little  summit  would  surely  be  the  head  of  the 
swale,  but  there  were  still  farther  summits 
hedging  space. 

Finally,  nine-thirty  found  me  on  the  crest  of 
the  swale,  toiling  up  a  narrow  arete  of  loose 
volcanic  ash  and  small,  looser  shale.  After 
six  hundred  yards  of  this  the  arete  petered 
out,  and  soft  snow  work  began.  A  strong 
wind  swept  fitfully  across  the  face  of  the 
mountain  in  great  blasts,  making  it  at  times 
almost  impossible  to  stand  against  it.     Crawl- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


ing  on  my  hands  and  knees  and  on  my 
stomach,  and  resting  every  ten  feet,  I  gradually 
made  my  way  over  the  neve  of  the  glacier. 
Every  time  I  tried  to  stand  I  sank  to  my  waist 
or  arm-pits.  My  fingers  became  stiff  and 
cramped  from  constant  contact  with  snow,  and 
my  knees  no  longer  held  feeling.  Now  came 
the  crucial  test.  The  slope  had  increased  to 
seventy  degrees.  It  looked  but  a  hundred  feet 
to  the  top.  For  an  hour  and  a  half  I  floun- 
dered through  fresh  snowdrifts,  hunting 
vainly  for  a  firm  foothold  in  the  feathery 
mass,  until  I  lay  panting,  exhausted  on  the 
summit  of  the  first  peak.  After  I  had  some- 
what recovered  from  my  exertion,  I  started 
over  the  almost  level  snow  fields  of  the  south 
peak  of  Mt.  Baker.  Painfully  I  worked  my 
way  up  the  last  two  hundred  feet  of  the  snow 
peak.  Painfully  I  sat  down  and  looked  around 
— below,  the  mountain ;  above,  all  sky, 

I  had  thought  the  summit  of  Mt.  Baker 
covered  with  rock,  but  here  was  a  rounded 
dome,  perhaps  ten  feet  in  diameter  with  two 
or  three  hundred  feet  sheer  on  three  sides,  and 
a  thirty-five  degree  slope  on  the  remaining 
side.  I  searched  in  vain  for  traces  of  other 
parties,  but  none  remained.  Only  the  vast 
white  whiteness,  broken  and  scarred  by  im- 
mense seracs,  spread  before  me.  In  the  west, 
the  Sound,  a  silver  ribbon,  wound  in  and  out, 
banding  blotches  of  dull  green;  and  farther 
west  rose  the  mist-blown  summits  of  Van- 
couver Island.  To  the  south  old  Rainier  stood 
supreme,  a  king  among  kings,  while  in  the 
east  and  north  the  sky  line  was  dotted  with 
myriads  of  peaks,  some  rising  to  jagged  points 
like  broken  knife  blades,  others  pyramidal  in 
form,  to  which  virgin  snow  clung  tenaciously, 
while  others,  away  in  the  Selkirks,  flung 
rounded  summits  to  the  sky,  tempting  to 
farther  adventure.  Again  I  looked  to  make 
sure  that  I  was  on  the  highest  peak.  In  the 
snow  I  discovered  a  dead  mouse,  probably 
dropped  by  a  bird  of  prey  in  its  flight.  I  left 
him  to  his  royal  grave  with  my  copy  of  the 
Mazama  circular,  half  buried,  for  a  head- 
board. 

It  was  now  twelve-forty-five.  For  the  first 
time  I  felt  hunger  and  cast  about  for  some- 
thing to  eat.  Not  a  crumb  was  left  and  there 
was  no  snow-water.  Expedition  was  become 
a  necessity,  and  the  descent  was  begun.  From 
the  summit  of  the  north  peak  I  slid  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile,  bounding  over  crevasses 
from  two  to  three  feet  in  width  until  I  reached 


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"There  Were   Still   Farther   Summits   Hedging   Space" 

the  arete.  Here  I  found  abundance  of  snow- 
water, but  strongly  sulphurated. 

Leaving  the  arete,  I  retraced  my  steps  of 
the  morning,  with  only  one  mishap.  In  cross- 
ing a  snow  bridge  both  feet  went  through.  I 
threw  myself  on  my  stomach  and,  reaching 
forward,  buried  the  spike  of  my  ax  in  the 
snow,  holding  grimly  to  the  handle.  Inch  by 
inch  I  worked  out  over  the  crackling  snow  to  a 
place  of  safety,  where  I  sat  for  a  moment  un- 
able to  move.  It  was  a  cold  day,  but  somehow 
my  forehead  was  covered  with  sweat.  At 
length  unable  to  resist  the  temptation  of  look- 
ing down  into  the  crevasse,  I  crawled  back 
until  I  could  peer  into  its  depths.  A  cold  chill 
swept  down  my  spine,  for  I  was  on  a  thin 
snow  bridge  not  over  twelve  inches  thick  in 
its  thinnest  part — above  a  hundred-foot  void. 
One  look  was  enough,  and  I  wormed  my  way 
to  the  bank. 

Half-past  two  found  me  at  the  timber  line, 
my  blankets  packed  and  ready  for  the  descent 
to  Glacier. 

There  were  three  divides  to  choose  from, 
and  all  looked  alike.  Which  was  the  right 
one?  Vainly  I  struggled  to  decide;  then  an 
idea  came  to  me.  Why  not  follow  Glacier 
creek?  So,  stumbling  over  deadfalls,  twisting 
my  way  through  a  matted  thicket  of  alders,  I 
came  to  the  left  branch  of  Glacier  creek.  By 
this  time  the  gnawing  in  my  stomach  had  in- 
creased ;  I  was  insensible  to  the  sting  of  the 
devil's  clubs,  and  clung  to  the  prickly  black- 
berry vines  for  support.  My  hands  were  a 
solid  mass  of  scratches.  Here  was  a  fresh 
problem.  There  was  no  ford.  Above  the 
roaring  of  the  stream  I-  could  hear  the  grind- 
ing of  the  boulders  in  its  bed.    The  only  pos- 


112 


WESTERN  llll  n 


Ncaring  the  Sun 


sible  solution  was  to  beat  through  brush  to 
the  junction  of  the  right  and  left  forks.  This 
I  did,  and  fortune  favored  me.  I  found  large 
rocks  in  mid-stream,  and  by  jumping  from 
one  to  the  other  I  reached  the  other  side,  a 
trifle  wet,  but  none  the  worse  for  my  experi- 
ment. It  was  but  a  step  from  the  frying-pan 
into  the  fire.  After  the  junction,  a  yawning 
gorge  set  in,  and  I  was  forced  to  the  steep 
hillside  far  above  the  water. 

All  the  heart-rending  detours,  and  the  ups 
and  downs  of  my  improvised  trail  I  shall  leave 
to  your  imagination.  Fancy  a  stream  in  North 
Washington  booming  down  a  deep  gorge,  three 
hundred  feet  of  sheer  cliffs  surmounted  on 
each  side  by  mountains  rising  to  six  or  seven 
thousand  feet  at  a  forty-five  degree  slope,  and 
you  have  the  picture  in  outline. 

After  about  two  hours  of  picking  myself  up 
from  numerous  slides,  I  came  to  a  natural 
rock-bridge  with  a  crevice  two  feet  wide  in 
the  center.  Two  hundred  feet  below,  the 
muffled  growls  of  the  sullen  creek  could  be 
plainly  heard.  I  crossed  and  made  camp  for 
the  night  beside  a  clear  stream  that  fell  into 
the  maelstrom  below. 

Water  now  took  the  place  of  food.  It 
seemed  as  if  I  could  never  drink  enough.  The 
more  I  drank,  the  drier  and  more  parched  my 
throat  became.  I  was  too  fagged  to  be  hungry. 
Hardly  had  I  thrown  my  shoes  off,  and 
crawled  into  my  sleeping-bag  than  I  was  off  in 
dreams,  far  away  from  glacial  creeks. 


With  daylight  came  a  shivering  wakening. 
The  gnawing  in  my  stomach  increased  and 
now  refused  to  be  appeased  by  snow-water. 
My  knees  were  shaky,  and  a  tight  band  seemed 
drawn  across  my  forehead.  Staggering  I  rose 
to  my  feet  and  went  on.  Was  that  a  blaze  I 
saw?  Could  it  be?  It  was  a  blaze,  and  in  the 
tree  were  the  plain  marks  of  an  ax,  about  ten 
years  old.  To  feel  that  someone  else  had  been 
in  this  wilderness,  no  matter  how  long  ago, 
was  in  itself  a  blessing. 

For  six  soul-wearing  hours  I  managed  to 
follow  the  blazes.  For  six  steady  hours  I 
looked  impatiently  from  the  top  of  every  sur- 
mounted ridge  only  to  stare  into  another  as 
high  ahead.  Then  I  lost  the  blazes.  The 
gnawing  had  become  intolerable.  Grinning 
faces  outlined  themselves  on  the  bark  of  trees ; 
the  mountain  shook  with  laughter.  Muffled, 
yet  above  the  roaring  of  the  creek,  sounded  a 
hum  of  human  voices,  now  rising  to  a  shriek, 
now  drowned  in  the  deafening  noise  of  waters. 
The  creek  was  turned  into  a  locomotive  puffing, 
puffing  steadily  up  hill,  and  I  was  following, 
seeking  for  what  I  could  not  find. 

With  a  jerk  I  pulled  myself  together.  This 
was  no  time  to  lose  myself  in  phantasms. 
Steadily  I  set  my  course  for  the  river  bank 
only  to  find  the  river  running  full  and  no  rocks 
upon  which  to  climb.  Retracing  my  way  up 
the  face  of  the  mountain,  breaking  through 
briars  and  brush,  again  I  came  across  the 
blazes.  This  time  I  determined  not  to  lose 
them. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


113 


Gradually  the  country  opened  up.  At 
twelve  forty-five  I  chanced  upon  another 
prospector's  cabin.  Here  I  met  a  fisherman, 
and  found  there  were  only  three  miles  between 
me  and  the  railroad. 

"Three  miles  more !"  I  wearily  sighed,  but 
the  trail  was  good,  and  at  two-thirty  I  sat 
down  to  a  feast  at  the  Glacier  hotel.     Never 


did  beans  and  meat  taste  half  as  good!  Never 
did  a  front  porch  feel  so  comfortable,  nor  soft 
seat  so  welcome. 

"Did  you  make  Baker?"  Questions  rained 
upon  me.  "Well,  if  you  reached  the  top," 
Cornell  said,  "you  made  it  a  day  quicker  than 
it  was  ever  made  before." 


ULTIMA 


THULE 


THE  OLD  FIRESIDE 

\V/HEN  from  the  north  the  cold  wind  blows, 
'*       And    when    Jack    Frost    grips    keen; 
When    fields    are   bare   an'    ev'ry   wood 

Has   lost   its   tint   of   green ; 
When  leaves  no  longer  deck  the  trees, 

How    quick    the    moments    glide, 
When     we    sit    down    in    comfort 

By  our  old  fireside. 

A  king  may  boast  of  palaces; 

A  duke  may  boast  of  land; 
And    both    have    servants    at   their    heels 

To    run    at    their   command. 
But    with    all    their    pedigrees: 

With   all   their  pomp  and   pride; 
The    working   man's   as   happy 

By    his    old    fireside. 

What    if   we   are   just    humble    folk, 

And    not    of    high    degree ; 
There's  comfort  in  an  humble  home, 

Although    the    rooms    are    wee. 
Our   greatest  statesmen   were  all  born 

In    rooms    not    very    wide ; 
We   love   to   sing  their   praises 

'Round  our  old  fireside. 

So  join  with  me,  my  honest  friends, 

And    sing    this    simple    song. 
'Twill    help    us    on   life's    weary    road, 

O'er   which   we'll   soon   be   gone. 
What    if   the   road   be   very   steep — 

In   Him  we  have  a  Guide 
Who   cares   and  watches   o'er   us 

'Round  our  old  fireside. 

—L,    A.    ll'cntworth. 


SOME  CURIOUS  AND  LITTLE 
KNOWN  ANIMALS 


Long-tailed  Bats 

[Despite  the  unparalleled  facilities  of  this  age  for  the  general  and  universal  dissemination  of  knowledge, 
there  are  still  many  species  and  varieties  of  animals  almost  wholly  unknown  to  American  sportsmen  at  large, 
even  their  names  being  unfamiliar.  It  is  our  purpose  in  a  series  of  articles  to  present  the  pictures  of  the  most 
interesting  and  unique  of  these  creatures  with  a  short  description  of  each. — Ed.] 


BATS 


ATS  belong  to  the  order  Cheirop- 
tera; they  are  animals  which 
possess  a  fold  of  skin  com- 
mencing at  the  neck  and  ex- 
tending on  each  side  between 
the  fore-legs  or  arms  and  the 
posterior  limbs.  This  fold  en- 
ables them  to  fly,  and  they  are 
the  only  mammals  which  have 
the  power  of  flight.  The  an- 
terior extremities  and  digits  of  most  bats 
are  long,  the  eyes  small,  ears  large,  thumbs 
short,  and  armed  with  a  hook-like  nail,  as 
are  all  of  the  toes  of  the  hind  feet.  The 
clavicle  (collar-bone)  is  generally  long.  Some 
species  have  a  spur  on  the  heel. 

The  majority  of  bats  fly  at  night  only, 
living  by  day  in  hollow  trees,  caves,  and  dark 
places.  Even  after  the  eyes  of  a  bat  have 
been  destroyed,  it  can  fly  through  narrow  and 
tortuous  passages  without  striking  anything. 
This  is  probably  due  to  the  debate  sense 
of  hearing  and  touch  which  most  bats  un- 
questionably have.  Except  in  tropical  climates, 
they  hibernate  in  cold  weather. 


Bats  are  divided  into  two  groups — the  so- 
called  frugivorous,  and  the  insectivorous.  The 
former  are  chiefly  found  in  the  Old  World 
tropical  regions.  They  feed  principally  on 
fruits,  but  they  are  not  frugivorous  as  they 
eat  birds  and  small  mammals.  They  number 
forty  species,  or  more.  The  insectivorous  are 
far  more  abundant,  about  three  hundred 
species  being  known. 

The  bats  of  the  United  States  are  not  nearly 
as  numerous  in  species  as  are  those  of  Europe. 
Individuals  are,  of  course,  very  plentiful,  and 
they  are  useful  in  destroying  insects. 

The  power  of  flight  possessed  by  bats, 
which  equals  that  of  birds  or  insects,  is,  in 
reality,  their  distinguishing  characteristic. 
Apart  from  it,  they  resemble  the' insectivora 
(shrews,  moles,  hedgehogs)  in  most  respects. 
Their  whole  organization  has  been  modified  in 
order  to  adapt  them  to  an  aerial  life.  Most  of 
them  are  of  small  size,  although  a  few  are 
as  big  as  a  large  rat.  The  maximum  spread 
of  wings  is  five  feet  which  is  the  expanse 
of  the  Kalong  referred  to  subsequently  in 
this   paper. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


115 


Reversing  the  rule  among 
mammals,  the  fore-limbs  of  bats 
are  developed  much  more  exten- 
sively than  the  hind-limbs 
which,  although  provided  with 
perfectly  formed  feet,  are  prac- 
tically useless  for  locomotion  on 
the  ground,  yet  are  of  service 
in  climbing  and  particularly  in 
clinging  to  some  support  from 
which  the  creatures  hang  when 
at  rest  with  their  head  down- 
ward. This  is  their  customary 
attitude  of  repose. 
Kalong  or  Malay  Fox  Bat 
(Ptcropus  edttlis). — The  genus 
Ptcropus  embraces  the  creatures 
known  as  "Flying  Foxes."  The 
muzzle  is  long  and  the  face  is 
therefore  "foxy"  in  appearance. 
The  Malay  Fox  Bat  sometimes 
has  an  expanse  of  wing 
of  five  feet.  This  creature 
has  no  tail,  but  it  is  the 
largest  of  all  the  fox-bats. 
There  are  about  sixty 
species  of  the  genus 
Ptcropus,  extending  from 
Madagascar  to  Queensland 
(Australia).  The  occur- 
rence of  the  Ptcropodidae — 
frugivorous  bats — in  India 
countries  must  once  have 
as  well  as  in  Madagascar 
pears  to  support  the  idea  that 
a  connection  between  those 
isted,  for  such  slow-flying  crea- 
tures as  bats  could  hardly  have 
been  capable  of  traversing  vast 
stretches  of  ocean  by  their  un- 
aided efforts. 

When  cooked  with  abundance 
of  spices,  the  Kalong  is  said  to 
resemble    rabbit    in    flavor,    but 
great  care  in  skinning  is  neces- 
sary because  the  fur  has  a  rank 
odor  and  flavor. 

The  Tailed-Fox-Bats  (Xan- 
tliarpyia). — These  Bats  differ 
from  all  members  of  the  genus 
Pteropus  by  the  possession  of 
a  short  tail,  and  by  their  in- 
ferior size.  The  fur  on  the 
back  of  the  neck   is  the   same 


ap- 


Collared   Fox    Bat 


'rube-nosed    Fruit    Bat 


Red-necked   Fruit   Bat 


length  as  that  on  the  body. 
These  bats  are  found  in  India. 
Burma,  Madagascar;  they  are 
said  to  exist  in  Africa.  They 
live  in  trees  and  caves,  and  some 
of  them  will  fly  as  long  a  dis- 
tance as  eight  miles  away  from 
their  habitation  to  obtain  food. 
They  usually  return  to  the  same 
spot  after  obtaining  it,  but  it  is 
not  certain  that  they  always 
make  the  double  trip  in  one 
night. 

The  Tube-Nosed   Fruit-Bats 
(Harpyia). — These       bats       are 
found   in    New   Guinea   and   the 
northern  part  of  Australia.   They 
are  distinguished  from  all  other 
bats    by    the    extension    of    the 
nostrils    into   a   pair   of   lengthy 
diverging  tubes   beyond   the  ex- 
tremity     of      the      muzzle, 
which  is  short  and  rounded. 
This     extraordinary     struc- 
ture   exists    in    the    Tube- 
Nosed    Bats    (Genus    Har- 
pyiocephalus)   to  which  ref- 
erence   will    be    made  later, 
but    in    no    other    mammal. 
Even    among    these    latter, 
such    as    the    white-bellied 
Tube-Nosed    Bat,   this    fea- 
ture is  less  pronounced,  as  may 
be    seen   by   comparing   the   pic- 
ture of  the  herbivorous  fruit  bat 
with   the   insect-eating  bat,  both 
of  which  are  somewhat  puzzling 
creatures.     So  little  is  known  of 
their   habits   that   no   guess   has 
been  made  as  to  what  advantage 
the   tubular   prolongation  of  the 
nostrils   is   to   them.     The   only 
other   peculiarity   of   these    bats 
is    the    small    number    of    their 
teeth ;  they  possess  only  twen- 
ty-four. 

The  Tube-Nosed  BATs(Har- 
pyioccphalus) . — These  insec- 
tivorous creatures  are  met  with 
in  India,  Ceylon,  the  Malay- 
Archipelago  and  Japan.  They 
have  thirty-four  teeth,  and 
their  fur  is  thick  and  heavy. 
The  variety  which  inhabits  the 


116 


/  A'.V  FIELD 


I  [imalaya  Mountains 
i  //.  Itueogastn  >  it  re- 
markable tor  it ^  Wil- 
liam coloring,  which  i- 
somewhat  like  the  fol- 
lowing description,  al- 
though no  two  natural- 
ists e.i\e  exactly  the 
same     names     for     the 

colors.  Golden-red 
head ;  base  of  hairs  al- 

white  all  over  the 

,    .   ,  Greater  Horn 

body;  membrane  bright 
V  impiK  Bat  ri(] ,  l1r,(]erparts  gray  at 

the  base  with  white  tips.     The  chin  and  throat  are  white.     Apart  from  these  splendid  tints,  the 
animals  are  unattractive  in  appearance. 

The  Long-Toncued  Fruit-Hats  (Carponycterti). — These  bats  have  long  and  sharply-pointed 
faces.       They    have,    in    addition,    long   and  slender    tongues,    and    very    narrow    molar 
which  hardly  project  above  the  level  of  the  gums.     As  compared  with  the  Fox-Bats,  they  are 


small  animals.  Concerning  the 
use  of  the  long  tongue,  as  the 
small  size  of  the  molar  teeth 
makes  them  unsuitable  for 
chewing,  it  is  not  improbable 
that  the  first-named  organ, 
which  can  be  stretched  beyond 
the  muzzle,  is  employed  to  lick 
out  the  contents  of  soft  fruits 
while  they  are  attached  to  the 
The  ears  are  large;  the  index  finger  possesses  no  phalanx. 


Hammer-headed  Bat 


tree.  Some  of  these  bats  have- 
no  claw  on  the  index  finger. 
Most  of  them  inhabit  India 
and  Australia,  their 
being,  in  many  cases,  brilliant 
— bright   orange  and   brown. 

The  Horseshoe  Bats   ( Rhi- 
nolophus). — The    bat- 
family   possess   the    leafy   out- 
growths   around    the    nostrils. 
These  animals  are  found  in  Europe, 


Asia.  Africa — they  are  not  uncommon  in  Japan.  Although  rare  in  England,  the  writer  has 
seen  them  in  the  southern  parts,  always  near  the  sea.  The  nose-leaf  is  intended  to  aid  the 
horse-shoe  bats  in  avoiding  obstacles  during  flight.       Toward     the     end     of     autumn,     these 

creatures  collect  in  colonies  of  almost  two 
hundred  to  take  their  winter  sleep.  These 
colonies  always  consist  of  either  males  or 
females.  It  should  be  noted  that  whi 
portion  of  the  nose-leaf  above  the  nose  is 
horseshoe  shaped,  the  lower  part  has  liule  of 
this  formation. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


117 


The  False  Vampire  Bats. — These  creatures 
are  found  in  Africa,  India,  and  the  Malayan 
region.  They  have  been  named  "false  vam- 
pires" to  distinguish  them  from  the  true  vam- 
pires, which  are  found  in  South  America 
only.  Some  representatives  of  both  families 
undoubtedly  have  blood-sucking  habits.  The 
false  vampires  may  easily  be  recognized  by 
their  immense  ears  which  are  fastened  together 
by  their  inner  margin.  They  possess  a  nose- 
leaf  similar  to  that  which  is  present  in  the 
horse-shoe  bat.  They  have  no  visible  tail. 
As  to  diet,  they  kill  and  eat  frogs,  smaller 
bats  and  grass-hoppers.  The  extended  wings 
of  some  Indian  false  vampires  have  been 
known  to  measure  eighteen  inches,  although 
the  length  of  the  animal  has  not  been  more 
than  four  inches ! 

The  Long-Eared  Bat  (  Plecotus). — This 
bat  is  well  known  to  all  students  of  Nature 
who  have  searched  for  any  kind  of  Bat  either 
in  the  United  States  or  in  Europe.  Plecotus 
macrotis,  the  American  species,  is  similar  to 
Plecotus  auritus,  the  British.  The  ears  are 
far  longer  than  the  body;  they  are  united  to 
a  limited  extent  by  their  inner  margins.  On 
the  upper  part  of  the  muzzle  behind  the 
nostrils  are  the  grooves  which  distinguish  the 
genus  Plecotus  from  all  other  representatives 
of  the  family.  When  at  rest,  the  long  and 
delicate  ears  of  the  Long-Eared  Bats  are 
folded  beneath  the  wings.  The  creatures  then 
look  as  it  they  had  short  ears.  Their  cry  is 
said  to  be  shrill  and  acute,  but  the  writer 
has  always  failed  in  his  efforts  to  hear  it. 

The  Barbastelle. — This  bat  resembles  the 
Long-Eared  Bats,  but  it  has  comparatively 
small  ears.  Further,  the  outer  margin  of  the 
ear  extends  forward  and  continues  beyond 
the  mouth  to  the  front  of  the  eye.  In  the 
long-eared  bats  the  outer  margin  of  the  ear 
ends  abruptly  near  the  corner  of  the  mouth. 
The  head  of  the  Barbastelle  is  remarkable. 
The  muzzle  is  divided  and  marked  by  a 
groove  leading  up  each  side  to  the  nostrils, 
these  latter  being  situated  in  a  depression 
devoid  of  hair  on  the  upper  portion  of  the 
muzzle.  The  fur  is  long  and  black ;  the  cheeks 
are  large.  The  head  and  body  measure  about 
two  inches  in  length. 

The  Barbastelle  is  found  in  Southern 
Europe,  in  North  Africa  and  in  Arabia.  A 
somewhat  similar  creature  exists  in  the 
Himalaya  Mountains  of  India,  but  it  has 
larger  ears. 


The  Tomb-Bats  (Taphoeous). — These  bats 
dwell  in  old  buildings  and  caves  in  India, 
Africa  and  Australia.  Their  chief  peculiarity 
is  the  possession  of  glandular  pouches  on  the 
under-surface  of  the  chin.  These  pouches  are 
present  in  both  sexes,  but  they  are  usually 
fully  developed  in  the  males  and  rudimentary 
in  the  females,  and  they  secrete  a  smelling  sub- 
stance which  probably  attracts  the  opposite 
sex.  During  the  hibernating  season,  many 
Tomb-Bats  have  large  deposits  of  fat  around 
the  thighs  and  near  the  root  of  the  tail.  This 
fat  is  probably  for  the  purpose  of  supporting 
life  during  the  cold  weather.  The  largest 
species,  the  Naked-Bellied  Tomb-Bat,  is 
nearly  four  inches  long,  exclusive  of  the  tail, 
and  the  span  of  the  wings  is  almost  twenty 
inches.  These  bats  derive  their  name  from  one 
of  the  species  having  been  found  in  large 
numbers   in   ancient   Egyptian   tombs. 

The  Long-Tailed  Bats  (Rhino  foma). — 
These  creatures  are  natives  of  India,  Burma 
and  North-East  Africa.  Their  most  distinc- 
tive feature  is  the  long,  slender  tail,  which 
extends  far  beyond  the  membrane  between  the 
legs,  but  they  have,  in  addition,  a  fleshy  prom- 
inence on  the  muzzle,  just  above  the  nose 
which  has  been  regarded  by  some  naturalists 
as  a  rudimentary  nose-leaf.  During  the 
colder  season  in  North-West  India,  these 
animals  have  such  a  gigantic  accumulation  of 
fat  around  the  tail  and  thighs  that  it  equals 
in  weight  the  rest  of  the  body.  On  this  fat 
they,  no  doubt,  live  until  the  warm  weather 
comes  around,  when  insects  are  plentiful. 

The  Naked  Bat  (Chiromclcs).— Perhaps 
the  Naked  or  Collared  Bat  is  the  strangest 
of  all  the  bats.  Its  home  is  in  the  Malayan 
region.  This  animal  (Chiromoles  torquatus) 
is  often  five  inches  in  length,  exclusive  of  its 
tail.  With  the  exception  of  a  collar  of  thinly- 
spread  hairs,  almost  covering  the  neck,  the 
thick  skin  is  virtually  naked.  The  most 
curious  feature  about  the  Naked  Bat,  however, 
is  the  presence  of  a  pouch  on  the  underside 
of  the  body,  below  the  armpits.  This  pouch, 
which  is  present  in  both  sexes,  is  for  the 
purpose  of  containing  the  young  during  the 
period  of  suckling.  It  is  necessary,  for  if  it 
were  absent,  the  infant  bats  would  be  quite 
unable  to  cling  to  the  naked  body  of  the 
parent.  The  presence  of  the  pouch  in  both 
sexes  seems  to  suggest  that  when  there  are 
two  "batlets",  one  is  carried  by  the  male 
parent.     The  muzzle  of  this  bat  is  long  and 


US 


I  ,\\\    1-11:1  I) 


m^m 


Long-tongued    Vampire 


Naked  Bat   (Female) 


Blainville's   Chin-leafed    Dat 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZIXE 


pig-like.  It  is  almost  a  repulsive-looking 
creature,  and  is  must  abundant  in  the  dense 
forests  of  Java,  Sumatra  and  Borneo. 

VAMPIRE  BATS. 
The  Chin-Leafed  Bats. — Two  genera 
containing  eight  species  differ  from  the  other 
members  of  the  Vampire  Bat  Family  (Phyl- 
lostomatidae)  in  the  absence  of  a  nose-leaf, 
the  function  of  which  is  performed  by  folds 
of  skin  which  hang  from  the  chin.  This 
unusual  characteristic  explains  their  name. 
Most  of  these  bats  are  dull-colored,  but  Blain- 
ville's  Chin-Leafed  Bat  has  fur  of  a  bright 
orange  hue.  This  little  creature  is  so  slight 
in  structure  that  light  can  be  distinguished 
through  the  roof  of  its  open  mouth. 

Vampire  Bats  are  confined  to  the  West 
Indian  Islands,  and  to  Central  and  South 
America.  A  few  of  them  are  strictly  insec- 
tivorous, but  most  of  them  subsist  on  a  mixed 
di't  of  insects  and  fruits.  Some  are  exclu- 
sively blood  suckers;  others  only  suck  blood 
when  necessity  seems  to  compel  that  form  of 
feeding. 

The  Great  Vampire.  (A  Harmless  but 
Repulsive  Animal)  (Vampirus  Spectrum). — 
This  animal  is  found  in  the  valley  of  the 
Amazon  in  Brazil.  It  is  so  large  that  its 
expanse  of  wing  measures  twenty-six  inches. 
It  feeds  on  insects  and  fruit.  The  nose-leaf 
is  spear-shaped.  "Nothing  in  animal  physi- 
ognomy can  be  more  hideous  than  the  counte- 
nance of  this  creature  when  viewed  from  the 
front — the  large  leathery  ears  standing  out 
from  the  sides  and  top  of  the  head,  the  erect 
spear-shaped  appendage  on  the  top  of  the 
nose,  the  grin,  and  the  glistening  black  eye — 
all  combining  to  make  up  a  figure  that  reminds 
one  of  some  mocking  imp  of  fable.  No  wonder 
that  some  imaginative  people  have  inferred 
diabolical  instincts  on  the  part  of  so  ugly  an 
animal.  The  vampire  is,  however,  the  most 
harmless  of  all  bats,  and  its  inoffensive 
character  is  well  known  to  residents  of  the 
Amazon." 

The  Javelin-Bats.— The  Common  Javelin- 
Bat  measures  between  four  and  five  inches 
in  length  of  head  and  body,  and  in  point  of 
size  comes  next  to  the  Great  Vampire.  It 
is  found  in  Brazil,  chiefly  in  the  trunks  of 
hollow  trees.  The  color  of  this  bat  is  reddish- 
brown  above,  and  paler  beneath.  Sometimes 
the  upper  part  is  a  dark-gray.  The  muzzle 
of    the     Common    Javelin     Bat    is     decidedly 


WES 

pBr:h 

I 

I 

'(  ;*4e 

1^1'' 

p  "^sjI 

Ssb^: 

1hg0 

vSH 

i*r' 

'  t  ■  ."  ■ 

-  /-' 

broader  and  shorter  than  that  of  any  harm- 
less vampire.  Two  other  species  of  Javelin 
Bats  are  well  known.  In  length  of  head  and 
body  they  are  comparatively  small,  as  their 
measurement  is  seldom  over  three  inches  at 
the  most. 

The  Javelin  Bats  have  been  credited  with 
blood-sucking  propensities,  and  "the  fact  of 
their  sucking  the  blood  of  persons  sleeping, 
from  wounds  which  they  make  in  the  toes,  is 
now  well  established ;  but  it  is  only  a  few- 
persons  who  are  subject  to  this  blood-letting." 
(Bates.) 

The  Long-Tongued  Vampires. — These  bats 
are  distinguished  from  all  others  by  their  long 
and  narrow  muzzles,  and  their  slender  elon- 
gated tongues,  which  can  be  extended  some 
distance  beyond  the  mouth.  The  use  of  this 
tongue  consists  of  its  ability  to  secure  insects 
from  the  tubes  of  flowers,  and  to  extract  the 
soft  pulp  from  hard-rined  fruits.  The  extrem- 
ities of  the  entensive  tongues  are  armed  on  the 
surface  with  a  number  of  long  thread-like 
papillae  which  were  at  one  period  supposed  to 
be  employed  to  puncture  the  skin  prior  to  the 
process  of  blood-sucking.  It  is  now  known, 
however,  that  the  Long-Tongued  Vampires 
do  not  suck  blood.  When  the  species  lives 
exclusively  on  fruit,  it  has  a  short  membrane 
between  the  hind-legs,  and  is  an  indifferent 
flyer.  In  the  case  of  the  insect-feeding 
species,  that  membrane  is  long  to  enable  con- 
siderable power  of  flying  to  become  developed. 

The  Short-Nosed  Vampires  (The  Cen- 
turion Bat). — These  are  chiefly  frugivorous 
bats  having  short  and  wide  muzzles,  as  well 
as  a  short  nose-leaf,  of  which  the  front  part 
is  horseshoe-shaped,  the  hinder  portion  being 


Tnej  have  no  external  tail    They 

id   in   Jamaica   as   well   as   in   some 

American    countries.      When    resting 

time      many      Shot : 

Vampires  are  accustomed  to  choose  positions 

sed  to  a  considerable 

Such   as    the   uinler-; 


the  fronds  of  the  cocoanut  palm.  As  i-  well 
known,  most  bats  remain  in  dark  places  during 
daylight  The  Centurion  Bat  differs  from 
Short-Nosed  Vampires  in  the  absence 
of  a  decided  nose-leaf.  Its  general 
ance  is  somewhat  peculiar  as  the  result  of  the 
foldings  of  the  skin  of  the 


skeleton  ol  Bat 


«3a 


THE   ANIMAL   LIAR 

I  TAX  it'll  yon  of  facts  that  may  seen 
And    of   things    that    would    open   your    eyes — 
For    I'm    the    origin*]    animal    man 

And    the    doings    I've    seen    might    surprise. 

I    saw   a   huge   elephant   crochetting 

For    a    basket    of    mountain    trout: 
And  a   Mexican  hairless  poodle 
Put    a    man-eating    tiger    to    rout. 

A   pollywog   chased   me   nine   miles   or  more 

And  frightened  roe  into  a  funk. 
While   a    little   brown   thrush   emitted    .. 

And  kicked   in   the  ribs  of  a  skunk. 

A    common    house   cat    bit   a   whale    on    the    - 

taunting    her    lightly    in    jest; 
And  a  flock  of  iackrabbits  lit  in  a  gum  tree 
Where 

;">otamus    rar.    down    a    fox 
Who  was  trying   to   steal  he: 
And   a   billy-goat    swimming   the   ocean   blue 
ed    one    of    a    pickerel's    legs, 

A    fierce    caterpillar    crawled    up   a   man's    back 
And  scared  him  almost    into  rV.s: 

I    spectacled    hen   broke   the    record    v 
She    hatched  I  I-turtle  kits. 

smart   wrote  a  courteous  c 
Requesting  a  bus 

constrict  >r — though    you 

picked   "er — 
Made  friends  with  a  family  of  SO 

i  ve  seen  other  things  much  stranger  than  these 
And    will    tell    them    if    you    should    inquire — 

They  are  true,   I   ;::>•>::   for   I  am.  if  you  pit 
The   origi  liar. 

—.V.    H.    C- 


By  Johm  F.  Scgrue. 
Part  I. 
O  WRITE  a  history  of  the  Yukon       all   young   in   those   days 


and  its  growth  is  a  task  that  I 
frankly  acknowledge   to  be  be- 
yond my  powers.     In  this  coun- 
try of  ice  and  snow,  flowers  and 
fields,    nigger    heads   and   "sore 
heads"    (men   women   and   chil- 
dren) there  is  a  wealth  of  anec- 
dote  still   practically  untouched 
by  the  hand  of  the  "literateur." 
the   exception   of  a  book   written   by 
"Jerer.:>ah    Lynch"    no   one   has   attempted    to 
song  of  the  gold  digger — as  the  gold 
digger  would  have  it  sung.     There  have  been 
authors  who  in  many  pages  have  rivaled  the 
Arabian  Xights  and  forced  Baron  Munchausen 
to  take  a  back  seat.    Their  writings  have  made 
!nary  "prospector"  blush  for  shame  and 
given   Ananias  an  attack  of  the  cold  shivers. 
In   fear  and  trembling — fear   for  the  result 
this  work  may  have  on  the  public,  and  trem- 
bling from  impatience  to  finish  it,  I,  the  author, 
set  out  on  the  dizzy  career  of  recorder  of  the 
doings  and  sayings  of  the  Klondiker. 

In  the  year  of  our  Lord  1897,  the  Excelsior, 
laden  with  gold,  arrived  at  Portland,  Washing- 
ton, and  from  that  event  dated  the  rush  to  the 
It  is  true  that  many  had  been  in  those 
regions  for  years — the  names  of  Jack  McGuest, 
George  Matlock,  Harper  and  Ladue,  Tom 
O'Brien.  T.  A.  Chute,  Capt.  Healy,  Peter 
Hogg  ( known  as  "Peter  the  Pig"),  "Cayuse 
Billy",  "Crummy  Pete",  "Skookum  Jim", 
"Swiftv.ater  Bill",  and  a  hundred  others  too 
numerous  to  mention,  were  household  words 
on  the  banks  of  the  Yukon  long  before  the 
rush  of  '97  took  place.  But  it  was  in  this  year 
that  the  great  army  of  "chee-chacos"  set  forth 
to  turn  the  ground  over  as  it  had  never  been 
turned  before.  And  the  crop  produced  by  the 
picks  and  shovels  of  this  army  of  tenderfeet 
•  that  opened  the  eyes  of  the  world  to 
the  importance  of  this  Northern  country. 
The  author  was  one  of  the  lucky  ones — that 
enough  to  procure  a  first-class  ticket 
on  the  steamer  "Queen"  and  glad  to  sleep  in 
the  steerage  on  the  way  to  Dyea.     We  were 


Grey  hair  or  no 
hair,  every  soul  on  that  ship  who  was  Dawson 
bound  was  kicking  over  the  traces  of  adversity 
and  mapping  out  a  future  wherein  the  only 
difficulty  lay  in  getting  rid  of  our  money. 

The  money  was  waiting  for  us  in  the  Klon- 
dike, of  course,  where  else  do  you  think  it 
was?  Very  few  of  us  had  any  and  what  little 
we  had  we  were  spending  like  princes.  Hesi- 
tate—  not  much.  Didn't  Billy  Chappel  or 
"Lippy"  or  some  one,  walk  down  the  gang- 
plank of  the  Excelsior  with  two  hundred 
thousand  dollars  in  gold  dust  in  each  hand? 
Of  course  he  did.  Let  her  go !  "Steward,  an- 
other bottle  of  wine  and  look  sharp  about  it." 
I  tell  you,  boys,  it  was  splendid !  Full  of  hope, 
full  of  life,  full  of  fairy  tales,  we  were  headed 
for  the  Xorth  Pole  and  way  ports  and  nothing 
could  stop  us. 

There  were  some  who  dropped  out  of  the 
race.  Faint  hearts  are  to  be  found  in  any  en- 
terprise, but  they  were  few  with  us.  Again, 
sickness  had  to  have  its  percentage,  but,  that, 
too,  was  small.  We  were  a  picked  lot — "nar- 
row between  the  eyes  and  broad  across  the 
shoulders."  A  trifle  like  a  cold  or  a  wetting 
had  no  more  effect  on  us  than  an  ordinary 
meal  has  on  a  Malamute  dog.  Old  man  Death 
stopped  a  few,  and  of  course  there  is  no  use 
in  arguing  with  him.  He  is  as  inevitable  as  a 
cold  snap  in  the  spring,  and  when  he  came  to 
visit  why  he  just  "got  his  man"  and  t 
went  on  with  a  word  of  sorrow,  an  offer  of 
help,  and  a  prayer  that  he  would  not  call  the 
turn  on  us  before  we  got  our  hands  on  that 
yellow  stuff  that  was  scattered  around  so 
thickly  on  Bonanza  and  El  Dorado. 

Dyea  and  Skaguay  were  the  two  points  of 
landing.  From  these  two  starting  places  the 
stampeders  set  out.  The  author  took  the  Dyea 
trail  and  will  confine  his  narrative  to  the  in- 
cidents that  came  under  his  notice. 

The  first  thing  was  to  get  ashore  and  in 
doing  so  we  were  nobly  assisted  by  the  various 
steamers  that  arrived  daily  from  the  sound. 
"Welcome  the  coming,  speed  the  parting  guest." 
seemed  to  be  the  motto  adopted  by  the  navi- 


L22 


WESTERN  FIELD 


gation  companies  on  the  Sound    The  steamer 

was  brought  to  a  standstill  in  the  most  con- 
venient spot — be  it  understood  it  was  the 
most  convenient   spot  for  the  steanrooat,  not 

for  the  passmgors — and  then  the  fun  com- 
menced. 

Boats  were  lowered,  planks  run  out  and 
the  cargo  was  hurled  pell-mell  ashore.  It 
looked  more  like  a  professional  "baggage 
smashers' "  picnic  than  anything  else.  In 
many  cases  horses  and  mules  were  thrown 
overboard  and  let  find  their  own  way  ashore. 
The  only  evident  reason  for  the  various  crews 
confining  themselves  to  throwing  horses  and 
mules  overboard,  was  the  fact  that  the  pas- 
sengers would  not  wait  long  enough  to  take 
chances.  They  got  ashore  in  quick  order  and 
the  Tower  of  Babel  never  could  hold  a  candle 
to  the  scene  of  confusion  which  ensued. 

Flour  in  sacks,  bacon,  tea,  sugar,  beans,  rice, 
blankets,  shovels,  tents,  whipsaws,  bibles, 
sewing  machines,  picks,  pack-saddles,  coal  oil, 
and  oil  of  joy — all  heaped  on  a  rocky  beach 
five  miles  from  anywhere ;  and  about  500  miles 
from  most  places.  Long  men,  short  men,  mad 
men  and  good-natured  men,  men  with  two 
guns  and  men  with  one  gun — everyone  had  at 
least  one — it  was  a  test  of  their  good  nature, 
and  nobly  they  stood  it. 

During  the  whole  time  the  author  was  on 
the  trail — and  I  was  twenty-four  days  getting 
twenty-seven  miles,  that  is  from  salt  water  to 
the  lakes — I  never  saw  or  expect  to  see  again 
a  better-natured  or  kinder-hearted  crowd  of 
men  this  side  of  heaven.  Provocation — why. 
the  woods  were  full  of  it !  Provocation  got 
up  with  you  in  the  morning  in  the  shape  of 
wet  blankets,  ate  breakfast  with  you  as  burnt 
flapjacks,  tramped  round  all  day  with  you 
under  various  guises — packers,  kickers,  falls 
into  the  Dyea  River,  a  stone  in  the  heel  of 
your  boot,  a  mean  pack  mule — and  all  pack 
mules  are  mean  until  they  are  dead,  and  then 
they  are  offensive — and  finally  went  to  bed 
again  in  the  shape  of  blistered  heels  or  sore 
shoulders  and  an  aching  back.  Oh  !  yes ;  there 
was  bushels  of  provocation  in  the  air  in  those 
days. 

But,  Lord  bless  you,  we  were  in  too  big  a 
hurry  to  get  mad  with  one  another.  No,  sir, 
there  were  all  kinds  of  men  on  that  trail — bad 
men,  worse  men,  and  some  good  men,  but  I'm 
thankful  to  say,  "the  mean  man"  was  not  in 
evidence.  It  may  have  been  the  excitement, 
the  air,  the  novelty ;   but  whatever  it   was,  it 


worked  well.  Not  even  the  "hootch" — and 
some  of  that  was  certainly  awful — had  any 
effect  on  the  general  good  nature  that  pre- 
vailed on  the  trail  in  the  fall  of  '97. 

Later  days  brought  the  mean  man,  the 
vampire  and  the  jackal.  They  took  their  stand 
at  the  two  gates  to  the  Yukon  and  exacted 
toll  from  the  weary  masher ;  and,  sad  to  say, 
they  generally  got  it.  It's  satisfactory  to  look 
back  even  at  this  late  date  and  know  that 
they,  too,  had  a  day  of  reckoning  and  got  theirs 
administered  in  large  doses.  We  may  refer 
to  them  again  later  on,  but  now  time  is 
pressing.  It's  the  first  of  August  and  the  river 
may  freeze  before  we  can  get  to  Dawson. 

"Ho,  for  the  Klondike !"  was  the  watchword, 
and  a  tough  road  to  hoe  it  was.  We  will  sup- 
pose we  have  got  our  little  outfit  from  the  pile 
of  rocks  where  the  kindly  steamboat  men 
threw  it — Jonah  got  better  treatment  from 
the  whale  of  biblical  fame— and  are  camped 
on  the  banks  of  the  Dyea  River.  This  river 
was  used  as  a  means  of  transportation  for 
about  four  miles,  at  which  spot  a  town  of  tents 
soon  sprang  up.  It  was  then  known  as  the 
"head  of  navigation"  and  afterwards  as  Canon 
City.  It  was  swift,  deep  and  cold,  and  many 
a  shock  did  I  receive  from  its  chilly  embrace 
before  bidding  it  a  tearful  farewell. 

A  small  fleet  of  poling  boats  were  busy  work- 
ing their  way  up-stream.  There  was  usually 
one  man  in  the  boat,  with  a  pole  by  the  clever 
use  of  which  the  boat  was  steered  round  cor- 
ners into  eddies  and  slack  water,  the  motive 
power  generally  consisting  of  the  other  owners 
of  the  freight,  who,  harnessed  by  trail  ropes, 
worked  on  the  bank  after  the  manner  of  the 
ordinary  canal  mule.  Bless  me !  what  tons  of 
energy  were  displayed  on  the  banks  of  that 
stream.  If  one  were  to  figure  it  out  in  foot- 
pounds and  try  to  put  it  on  paper,  br-r-r-r — . 
Billions,  sir — billions  ! 

Talk  about  the  "sweating"  system.  It  was 
not  a  marker  to  the  game  on  our  own  little 
river.  First  you  look  out  for  a  man  with  a 
boat ;  they  were  easy  enough  to  find,  the 
trouble  was  to  hit  upon  the  proper  mode  of 
addressing  them.  I  tried  several  and  will  en- 
deavor to  give  you  a  feeble  imitation  of  the 
method  that  in  my  opinion  worked  best.  Put- 
ting on  your  best  smile  and  a  large  covering 
of  humility,  you  approached  the  haughty  one 
hat  in  hand;  this  was  absolutely  necessary. 
Some  preferred  to  advance  on  their  hands  and 
knees,   but   that  did  not  have   sufficient 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


123 


bilities  for  a  rapid  retreat,  as  in  many  in- 
stances the  haughty  one  was  in  a  day  dream 
and  none  but  the  veriest  fool  would  think  of 
disturbing  him.  That  is,  if  they  wanted  to 
work  for  him. 

When  you  got  sufficiently  close  to  catch  his 
eye  it  was  judicious  to  remove  the  smile  and 
to  say  "Sir !"  loudly  and  yet  not  so  as  to  shock 
his  sensibilities.  Then  the  following  conversa- 
tion might  or  might  not  take  place. 

The  haughty  one,  gruffly :  "Well  ?"  The 
suppliant :  "I — I,  ah,  I've  got  some  freight  I 
want  to  get  to  the  head  of  navigation  and  was 
told  you  were  engaged  in  that  business." 
Here  it  was  wise  to  side  step  a  stream  of  to- 
bacco juice.  "Want  your  freight  taken  up 
the  river,  eh!     How  much  you  got,  partner?" 

"Oh,  about  a  ton." 

"Um,  um.  Waal,  I'm  busy  just  now,  you 
see,  and — "  you  here  promptly  apologize  for 
being  anywhere  near  him  and  produce  a  bottle. 

"Do  you  indulge?"  making  a  mystic  move 
with  the  back  of  the  hand  over  the  face.  He 
allows  that  "He  would  take  a  smile."  After 
this  things  come  a  little  easier.  He  names  a 
figure  per  pound  that  sets  you  feeling  round 
your  money  belt.  He  gives  you  directions  as 
to  where  you  can  find  his  boat,  graciously 
allows  you  to  pile  all  the  stuff  in  under  his 
supervision,  and  then  informs  you  to  "be  round 
bright  and  early  in  the  morning,  partner,  as 
I  be  very  busy  just  now."  You  beat  an  or- 
derly retreat  and  the  first  step  has  been  gained. 

Those  boatmen  were  very  important  people, 
indeed,  "monarch  of  all  they  surveyed"  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word.  They  coined  money 
faster  than  a  man  can  think,  and  they  spent  it 
with  a  liberality  that  would  make  Mrs.  Chad- 
wick  look  like  a  "two  spot." 

Morning  came,  and  with  the  first  blush  of 
day  you  buckled  into  a  noose  of  good  manila 
and  supplied  the  motive  power  to  drag  your 
goods,  also  the  haughty  one — four  weary  miles 
over  roots,  quicksands  and  loose  boulders. 
You  gee-ed  and  haw-ed  to  the  word  of  com- 
mand from  the  freighter.  He,  perched  on 
your  load,  pole  in  hand,  steered  the  boat  and 
poured  out  the  vials  of  his  wrath  on  your 
luckless  head.  The  amount  of  wrath  was  in 
direct  proportion  to  the  amount  of  grape 
juice  that  had  entered  the  steersman's  system 
the  night  before.  However,  it  had  to  be,  and 
slip  and  scramble,  now  in  the  stream  up  to  the 
middle,  again  on  the  sandy  banks  holding  on 
with  your  toes  and  eyelids.    Choking,  gasping, 


swearing,  coughing,  asteaming  and  blistering, 
you  bucked  a  six-mile  current  and  pretended 
you  liked  it. 

There  were,  of  course,  other  modes  of  trans- 
portation :  Pack  mules,  wagons,  and  Indian 
carriers  were  the  most  common.  They  were 
all  captious  in  the  extreme.  The  traveler  was 
at  their  disposal  and  they  never  overlooked  a 
bet.  The  price  ran  on  the  ascending  scale, 
ranging  from  six  cents  a  pound  in  the  early 
summer  to  seventy-five  cents  and  one  dollar  as 
the  stream  of  Klondikers  increased.  There 
was  the  paradise  of  the  teamster !  Who  can 
forget  the  famous  "Dutchy",  teamster  for 
Albert  Kavanaugh  ?  Seated  on  top  of  a  load 
of  freight,  there  was  nothing  too  rough  for 
him  to  overcome.  He  handled  his  stock  like 
a  master  and  worked  late  and  early.  Always 
in  good  humor,  out  in  all  sorts  of  weather,  he 
was  a  bright  spot  in  the  picture.  His  language 
was  choice,  his  stream  of  adjectives  was  always 
well  chosen,  and  he  very  seldom  repeated 
himself.  He  would  eat  or  drink  with  you, 
swear  at  you  or  for  you,  and  take  your 
money  with  an  ease  and  grace  that  invariably 
soothed  your  somewhat  ruffled  spirit. 

The  rush  increased  during  the  month  of 
August,  till  it  appeared  that  the  whole  world 
was  bent  on  moving  North.  The  "City  of 
Mexico",  the  "Geo.  P.  Elder",  the  "Islander", 
in  charge  of  the  famous  Captain  John  Irving, 
all  brought  their  quota  of  treasure  seekers. 
Here  I  may  say  that  Captain  Irving  was  a 
living  example  to  some  of  the  other  captains 
in  his  treatment  of  his  passengers.  There  was 
nothing  left  undone  by  the  captain  and  crew  of 
the  "Islander"  to  assist  the  chee-chaco  in  get- 
ting his  outfit  on  shore,  and  it  was  not  until 
some  of  the  more  enthusiastic  attempted  to 
take  his  ship's  boats  up  the  river  that  "John" 
called  a  halt. 

The  first  reminder  of  the  the  dangers  of  the 
trail  was  the  death  of  a  Nanaimo  man,  Tom 
Wall.  Poor  Tom  was  slightly  known  to  the 
author,  I  having  in  my  day  played  many  a 
friendly  game  of  football  with  the  boys  of  the 
"Coal  Village"  on  Vancouver  Island.  In  cross- 
ing the  Dyea  River  with  a  horse,  poor  Wall's 
foot  slipped  or  the  horse  reared,  no  one  knows 
which,  and  he  was  gone  in  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell.  We  picked  up  his  body  on  the 
mud  flats  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  and,  ably 
assisted  by  Dr.  Lugden,  worked  on  him  for 
over  an  hour  in  a  vain  attempt  to  restore  respira- 
tion.    His  death  cast  a  gloom  over  the  whole 


124 


nisi i:k.\  : 


inity,  especially  bis  "townies."  How- 
ever, time  was  pressing,  and  though  men  were 
more  careful  for  a  few  days,  the  danger  was 
soon   forgotten.      It   was  a   chance   that   might 

happen  to  any  of  us  at  any  moment.    The  i r 

fellow  had  gamhled  and  lost  and  there  were 
thousands  playing  the  same  game. 

The  next  alarming  incident  had  to  do  with 
firearms.  Not  a  duel  to  the  death,  nothing 
as  interesting  as  that.  Every  man  on  the  trail 
had  a  gun.  and  for  every  gun  there  was  at 
least  one  box  of  ammunition.  Powder  and 
lead  weigh  heavy  and  arc  notably  hard  to 
digest.  Owing  to  the  rapid  rise  in  the  price 
of  "packing''  the  more  frugal  or  sensible  made 
up  their  minds  that  they  had  better  leave  this 
useless  article  behind  them.  Tin  cans  and 
empty  bottles  being  plentiful,  there  were  all 
the  necessities  ready  at  hand  and  the  banks  of 
the  Dyea  River  were  speedily  converted  into 
one  huge  shooting  gallery. 

Bullets  were  humming  through  space  as 
busy  as  June  bugs  and  nothing  short  of  a 
miracle  prevented  serious  damage  being  done. 
At  first  we  thought  the  proverbial  gun-play 
was  being  made  by  some  wild  and  woolly 
wayfarer.  We  thought  that  some  greedy 
packer  or  haughty  one  was  "getting  his  need- 
ings"  and  felt  quite  satisfied  that  such  should 
be  the  case.  Then  we  imagined  a  war  was 
on,  between  whom  we  were  unable  to  say,  but 
nothing  short  of  war  could  make  such  a  con- 
tinual popping.  Then — well,  then  a  bullet  came 
singing  by-  the  author's  ear  in  unpleasantly 
close  proximity  and  we  gracefully  "ducked  for 
cover."  As  soon  as  the  firing  stopped  we 
emerged  from  our  entrenchments  and  dis- 
covered that  a  friend  of  ours  on  the  opposite 
bank  had  been  emptying  the  magazine  of  a 
Winchester  quite  oblivious  of  the  fact  that 
our  little  home,  a  tent  8x10,  was  directly  in 
the  line  of  fire.  Thanks  to  the  good  sense  and 
judgment  of  the  United  States  Marshal  then 
stationed  at  Dyea,  a  speedy  stop  was  put  to 
this  form  of  amusement  and  lives  saved 
thereby. 

As  might  be  expected,  among  the  number  on 
the  trail  the  majority  were  tenderfeet  in  every 
sense  of  the  word.  To  many,  camping  out  was 
a  sealed  book,  the  pages  of  which  were  now 
being  turned  over  for  the  first  time.  Such 
little  items  as  forgetting  to  grease  the  pan  be- 
fore cooking  the  man  killers  called  "flapjacks" 
was  an  every-day  occurrence.  I  have  still  in 
my  mind's  eye  a  picture :     A  young  American 


of  German  extraction,  looking  through  a  pair 

of  large  spectacles,  at  an  inverted  frying  pan 
in  which  a  flapjack  had  ensconced  itself  and 
refused  to  budge.  He  seemed  to  me  to  be  lost 
in  amazement  and  was  wondering,  no  doubt, 
if  anything  had  gone  wrong  with  the  force  of 
gravity.  It  was  simply  a  case  of  no  grease, 
and  when  so  informed  he  appeared  immensely 
relieved.  He  waved  the  pan  gently  in  the  air, 
said  a  few  words  as  a  means  of  easing  of 
pressure,  and  then  set  to  work  with  a  clasp 
knife  to  see  what  the  other  side  of  the  pan- 
cake looked  like.  "Uninteresting"  you  may 
say?  It  was  not  uninteresting  to  us.  Flour 
was  precious  and  the  task  of  cooking  over  an 
open  fire  of  wet  wood  was  enough  to  try  the 
patience  of  a  saint. 

Putting  up  a  tent  is  a  form  of  amusement 
common  on  a  trail,  the  simplest  thing  imagin- 
able to  anyone  versed  in  the  art ;  yet  it  is  sur- 
prising the  number  of  intricate  manoeuvres  the 
tyro  will  execute  before  accomplishing  this 
simple  feat.  Wreathed  in  canvas  at  one  mo- 
ment, again  narrowly  escaping  a  death  by 
hanging,  the  beginner  will  toil  on  pulling  guy 
ropes  and  dodging  ridge  poles  till  some  kind 
friends  shows  him  how. 

One  Wally  Brown,  afterwards  well  known 
in  Dawson,  had  an  experience  of  this  kind 
which  afforded  me  any  amount  of  amusement 
for  a  short  time.  Right  back  of  where  I  was 
camped  was  a  small  fringe  of  brush,  and  on 
the  other  side  of  the  brush  the  ground  sloped 
gently  to  a  dry  slough.  The  soil  was  light  and 
sandy,  a  covering  of  only  four  to  six  inches, 
beneath  which  were  large  boulders  of  granite 
and  quartz.  On  this  spot  Brown  started  to 
erect  his  canvas  home.  I  was  busily  engaged 
in  washing  socks,  sewing  sacks  or  some  other 
domestic  duty,  when  I  first  became  conscious 
of  the  fact  that  something  was  doing.  My  first 
impression  was  that  some  one  was  offering  up 
a  prayer.  I  listened  a  while ;  heard  the  stroke 
of  an  axe  on  some  hard  object  and  then  the 
voice  was  raised  again,  but  not  in  prayer.  It 
might  have  been  a  political  speech  or  a  Fourth 
of  July  oration ;  it  was  warm,  lucid,  fluent  and 
evidently  highly  satisfactory  to  the  utterer,  for 
he  would  pause  to  take  breath  and  then  con- 
tinue at  regular  intervals.  During  each  in- 
terval the  sound  of  the  axe  might  be  plainly- 
heard.  After  a  short  while  it  began  to  sound 
serious,  and  I  thought  I  had  better  see  who 
it  was,  so  eminently  fitted  as  to  do  anything 
in  the  vocal  line  from  preaching  a  sermon  to 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


12S 


driving  a  team  of  bulls,  that  was  wasting  his 
time  on  this  trail. 

I  advanced  to  the  fringe  of  brush  and  peeped 
through.  Brown  was  very  thin,  very  tall — 
about  six  feet  two  or  three  inches.  He  had  a 
nasal  organ  that  was  a  wonder  and  was  very 
much  put  out  about  something.  His  tent  was 
spread  out  on  the  ground  in  proper  form,  but 
the  difficulty  arose  in  his  inability  to  drive  a 
peg  home.  I  watched  him  as  he  placed  the 
peg  point  downwards  on  the  soil  and  gently 
tapped  it  with  the  side  of  his  axe.  It  sank 
through  the  light  sand  to  the  depth  of  three 
or  four  inches  with  ease.  Then,  it  being 
sufficiently  steady  to  stand  by  itself,  Brown 
grasped  the  axe  in  both  hands,  swung  it  round 
his  head  in  proper  fashion  and  brought  it 
down  on  the  tent  peg  with  great  force.  Up 
sprang  the  axe  and  out  sprang  the  peg.  The 
harder  he  hit  the  quicker  the  peg  jumped  out. 
The  point  was  somewhat  flattened  and  the 
light  sand  flew  in  all  directions.  After  one  or 
two  more  attempts  I  came  forward  and  called 
his  attention  to  the  fact  that  wooden  pegs 
could  not  be  driven  through  wash  boulders. 
Scraping  the  soil  aside  he  realized  that  there 


was  more  truth  than  poetry  in  what  I  said 
and  between  us  we  quickly  had  the  tent  in 
shape,  and  the  pegs  securely  fastened  by  piles 
of  rock.  The  next  move  of  Brown's  was  to 
uncork  an  innocent  looking  demijohn  which 
was  a  part  of  his  outfit  and  we  then  and  there 
cemented  our  friendship  with  a  tin  cup  full  of 
water  and  alcohol. 

I  had  seen  Brown  in  Juneau  on  my  way  up 
and  he  told  me  that  Juneau  was  nearly  de- 
serted and  that  the  rush  to  the  North  was 
going  to  be  one  of  the  biggest  on  record. 
It  certainly  held  its  own.  At  this  time,  then 
about  the  8th  day  of  August,  1897,  it  became 
necessary  for  me  to  make  a  trip  to  Skaguay. 
There  we  found  pretty  much  the  same  state  of 
affairs  as  at  Dyea.  Crowds  pressing  forward 
at  top  speed,  crawling  over  one  another  in 
their  frantic  endeavor  to  get  to  Dawson  before 
the  cold  weather  set  in.  On  this  trail,  too, 
the  spirit  of  the  men  was  good.  "Help  one 
another"  was  the  general  motto  and  it  was 
not  till  some  weeks  later,  when  the  crowd  be- 
came greater,  that  good-nature  broke  down 
and  competition  swept  away  all  better  feel- 
ings. 


{To  be  continued. ) 


IN  THE  TREETOPS 

\V/IIO  inhabits  the  cities  of  leaves, 

**      With    their    streets    of    bending    boughs. 
And  their  green-walled  houses,  cool  and  dim 
As   cloisters   for  monkish  vows? 

Not   monks   I    ween,   for   I   hear   their  songs. 
So   merry,   and   sweet   and   gay, 
And  love  is  breathed  in  each  swelling  note 
Of   their    rippling   roundelay. 

In   those   houses   high   were   room    for  two 
When    first    they    were    builded    there; 
What   hopes   were  woven  with   each   soft  strand 
That    fashioned    their   circle    fair! 

Oh   happy  lovers! — in  safe  retreat 

From    my    prying    eyes    below, — 

You    have    waked    anew    my    heart's    old    griefs 

From   the   days   of   long   ago. 


& 


4 


m 

SLEEPING  OUT  OF  DOORS 

m 

By  F.  \Y.  Rkid. 


HE  term   Bivouac  is  a  military 

one.  It  belongs  with  the  armed 
camp,  the  trumpet  and  the  night 
alarm,  things  foreign  to  the 
humdrum  ways  of  civilized  and 
peaceful  men.  Introducing  the 
bivouac  into  modern  warfare, 
Napoleon  out-gcneraled  his  op- 
ponents by  the  untrammeled 
rapidity  of  his  marches.  He 
accustomed  his  soldiers  to  sleep  in  their  great- 
coats, with  their  rifles  for  pillows. 

Where  victory  or  defeat  is  at  stake  hard- 
ships are  cheerfully  borne.  But  the  civilian, 
habituated  to  comfort,  shudders  at  the  idea 
of  trusting  his  cherished  body  to  the  untender 
mercies  of  the  open  sky.  If  he  leaves  home, 
it  is  for  the  protection  of  an  inn;  or,  if  he 
travels  beyond  the  limits  of  habitations,  ho 
thinks  he  must  provide  himself  with  a  canvas 
house  as  a  shelter  against  the  inclemencies  of 
the  weather.  "Go  back  to  Nature"  may  be  his 
motto,  but  why  go  beyond?  Has  it  not  been 
written  that  "Foxes  have  holes,  and  birds  of 
the  air  have  nests?" 

It  is  all  a  question  of  climate.  Where  the 
mood  of  the  skies  is  changeable,  the  traveler 
for  recreation  defeats  his  object  by  exposing 
himself  as  a  target  to  the  fine  shot  of  rain, 
or  by  sleeping  under  a  wet  blanket  of  mist. 
Cold  and  damp  are  ill  bedfellows.  But  in 
lands  where  the  summer  is  dry,  and  the 
heavens  for  weeks  together  show  a  constant 
and  serene  face,  the  bivouac  is  a  practicable 
pleasure.  And  the  climate  of  California  is  so 
reliable  that  even  its  mountains,  those  prolific 
breeders  of  bad  weather,  content  themselves 
with  brewing  an  occasional  electric  storm  in 
the  day-time,  leaving  the  nights  untroubled. 

All  through  the  Southwest  prospectors  and 
packers  sleep  out  in  the  summer  time  without 
giving  the  matter  a  second  thought.  The 
bivouac  is  part  of  their  routine,  the  nightly 
alternative  of  the  day's  march.  Vacation 
tourists  may  well  take  a  leaf  from  the  book  of 
their  experience;  for  transportation  comes  ex- 


pensive,  and  those  who  travel  without  tents 
can  travel  fastest  and  farthest.  Having  broken 
themselves  to  the  habit  of  open-air  sleeping, 
they  will  find  their  account  in  the  novel  and 
health-giving  experience. 

"It  is  only  the  first  step  that  counts,"  say  the 
French.  But  when  taken  from  the  shelter- 
ing house  to  the  vast  unroofed  chamber  of 
Nature  it  jars  the  indoors  man,  so  far  re- 
moved are  the  habits  of  urban  life  from  the 
ways  of  the  wild.  He  has  much  to  learn  be- 
fore he  feels  himself  at  home  in  the  out  o' 
doors.  Enthusiastic  amateur  of  the  primitive 
though  he  be,  he  had  better  bow  to  his  up- 
bringing and  carry  blankets  and  sleeping-bag, 
than  curl  up  in  his  clothes  at  night,  like  a  dog 
by  the  camp-fire.  Mr.  John  Muir,  indeed,  that 
veteran  of  the  Sierras  who  carries  his  Spartan 
fare  on  his  own  back  into  the  mountains,  is 
silent  on  the  subject  of  coverings.  Perhaps 
he  takes  a  Scotch  plaid  with  him,  Highland 
fashion.  To  begin  with  "roughing  it,"  how- 
ever, is  bad  policy  for  the  novice. 

But  coverlets  are  only  a  part  of  the  bed 
furniture.  The  contrivance  of  wood  and 
steel  springs  is  itself  lacking.  The  camper 
must  literally  "make  his  bed",  and  on  the 
ground,  mindful  of  the  proverb :  "As  you  make 
your  bed,  so  shall  you  lie."  If  he  be  a 
geologist,  he  will  learn  new  things  about  the 
crust  of  the  globe  from  personal  contact;  if  a 
poet  who  has  sung  of  the  soft  bosom  of 
"Mother  Earth",  he  will  taste  the  difference 
between  the  fanciful  and  the  actual. 

For  the  skin  of  earth  varies  in  texture  just 
like  human  skin.  It  may  be  shaggy  with  trees 
and  brushwood,  warty  with  rock,  or  soft  and 
dimpling  where  a  cushion  of  sand  covers 
the  hard  and  stony  skeleton.  And  its  nature 
makes  a  considerable  difference  in  the  ease  of 
the  man  who  lodges  on  the  ground. 

The  shifting  grains  of  a  dry  river-bed  or  a 
sea-beach  afford  a  snug  and  comfortable  nest- 
ing-place. The  material  retains  for  a  con- 
siderable time  the  heat  it  draws  from  the 
afternoon    sun.      This    is    an    important    con- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


sideration.  For  the  novice  soon  discovers  that 
Earth  possesses  some  traits  of  the  stepmother. 
When  she  is  cold  she  will  steal  warmth  from 
her  child,  who  wakes  suddenly  with  a  chilly 
feeling  about  the  spine.  The  weight  of  the 
body  compresses  the  blanket  and  squeezes  out 
the  contained  and  non-conducting  air.  Hence 
for  the  sake  of  heat  alone  it  is  necessary  to 
thickly  pad  the  under  surface  of  the  bed.  For 
comfortable  lying  there  is  nothing  like  sand. 
You  can  burrow  into  it,  and  arrange  your 
limbs  conveniently  in  a  hollowed  lair. 

Sometimes  the  ground  is  furred  with  a  thick 
growth  of  plants,  on  which  a  man  can  repose 
as  snugly  "as  a  flea  in  a  rug." 

Heather,  which  is  soft  and  elastic,  comes 
nearest  of  all  earth's  coverings  to  the  ease  of 
a  spring  mattress.  Lie  on  your  back  in  the 
heather,  and  the  odds  are  you  drop  off  to 
sleep.  But  in  Scotland,  where  this  natural 
bedding  grows,  the  climate  is  not  favorable  to 
sleeping  out  doors.  The  present  writer,  how- 
ever, first  experimented  with  bivouacking  on  a 
hillside  above  Loch  Katrine.  He  retains  a 
clear  memory  of  the  softness  of  the  heather 
couch  and  the  shortness  of  the  midsummer 
night.  Dawn  came  before  three  o'clock;  and 
the  sleepers  rolled  out  of  their  plaids  to  find 
the  lake  still  sleeping  by  its  silver  strand,  cur- 
tained from  the  sunrise  by  a  filmy  veil  of 
vapor. 

With  heather  at  hand,  your  bed  is  ready 
made ;  but  bare  earth  and  rock  require  skillful 
preparation.  A  man  might  as  well  expect  to 
take  his  ease  on  a  tombstone  as  on  the  pol- 
ished surface  of  a  slab  of  mountain  granite. 
So  the  camper  must  acquire  the  art  of  making 
a  mattress  out  of  the  boughs  of  pine  or  fir. 
At  home,  unless  he  happens  to  be  a  surgeon 
by  profession,  he  probably  never  gave  a 
thought  to  his  "great  trochanter."  But  now 
his  comfort  depends  on  providing  a  padded 
hollow  into  which  the  bony  prominence  of  the 
hip  may  sink  snugly,  and  a  plane  inclined  to 
the  slope  of  the  back.  The  structure  of  the 
body  calls  for  a  concave  bed ;  and  experienced 
travelers  spare  no  pains  to  make  themselves 
comfortable  at  night. 

A  pillow  of  sorts  is  indispensable,  but  pil- 
lows are  not  to  be  picked  up  in  the  wilds.  A 
Japanese,  accustomed  to  resting  his  neck  in  a 
kind  of  executioner's  block,  would  perhaps  be 
satisfied  with  a  log,  slightly  hollowed  by  the 
axe.  Some  people  carry  an  air-cushion  with 
them,  which  does  not  take  up  much  room  in 


the  kit.  But  the  true  art  of  the  bivouac  is  to 
so  arrange  your  long  boots  that  between  them 
a  shallow  receptacle  is  formed  in  which  your 
weary  head  may  lie. 

Having  made  your  preparations  with  such 
skill  as  you  possess,  the  hour  comes  for  putting 
them  to  the  proof:  "To  sleep,  perchance  to 
dream !"  You  lie  down  amid  the  pillared  per- 
spective of  the  fir-trees,  with  a  vaulting  of 
boughs  overhead,  in  a  chamber  "deaf  to  noise 
and  blind  to  light."  It  is  odorous  and  dark- 
ling. Or  in  the  soft  sea-sand  within  hearing 
of  the  measured  snore  of  the  falling  surf,  very 
incentive  to  sound  slumber.  And  yet,  though 
tired  with  traveling,  you  turn  and  turn  again 
in  the  blankets.  In  the  woods  you  cannot  stop 
listening  for  the  stealthy  approach  of  some 
night  wanderer ;  your  ear  is  an  open  receiver 
waiting  for  a  thrill  from  the  telephone  of  the 
ground,  though  none  may  come.  Under  the 
open  sky  you  can  hardly  close  your  eyes  in 
face  of  the  cold  and  silent  scrutiny  of  the  stars. 
One  who  is  accustomed  to  "retire"  at  night 
behind  locked  doors  does  not  shed  the  in- 
crustations of  old  habits  all  at  once.  You 
think  you  have  broken  with  city  life  for  good, 
but  you  drag  behind  a  lengthening  chain  of 
custom  that  plucks  you  back  with  the  accumu- 
lated force  of  years.  The  first  night  under  the 
open  sky  is  apt  to  be  a  restless  one. 

Such  was  the  experience  that  Robert  Louis 
Stevenson  records  in  his  "Travels  with  a 
Donkey."  The  novelist  was  a  green  hand,  and 
had  tired  himself  by  prodding  a  reluctant 
"burro"  all  day  over  the  Ccvennes  mountains. 
Yet  he  lay  awake  at  night  in  a  meadow,  an 
observer  of  the  midnight  feeding  and  couching 
again  of  the  pastured  animals.  On  this  he 
comments  in  a  strain  of  fancy  and  concludes 
that  a  "light  and  living  slumber  visits  the  man 
who  sleeps  afield." 

That  is  to  say  he  slept,  like  a  dog.  in 
snatches.  Generally,  I  believe,  this  is  true  of 
all  first  nights  in  the  bivouac.  But  it  is  not 
external  noise  that  keeps  the  weary  camper 
from  his  rest,  at  any  rate  in  our  latitudes.  In 
a  tropical  forest,  indeed,  there  are  wars  and 
rumors  of  wars  in  the  dark.  Down  in  South 
America,  in  Guiana,  where  you  camp  at  night 
often  on  the  river  bank,  after  the  skirling  and 
thrumming  concert  of  the  insect  host  has  con- 
cluded, sudden  sounds  are  wont  to  thrill  upon 
the  drowsy  heavy  night.  There  is  the  low, 
discreet  cough  of  the  alligator,  like  a  stage 
A-hem !  which  is  not  very  alarming.    The  roar 


i  EST1  RA  FIELD 


jaguar  you  may  hear,  but  not  so  often 
as  it  occurs  in  stories  that  make  their  points 
with  local  color.  What  is  truly  startling  is  the 
nocturnal  revelry  of  the  red  monkeys,  "howl- 
ers" they  are  aptly  culled,  that  raise  Cain  in 
the  trees,  beginning  with  low  growls  and  wind- 
ing up  with  a  yelling  crescendo  fiiuilc.  And 
the  worst  of  it  is  that  they  keep  very  late- 
hours.  But  our  Sierra  forests  are  compara- 
tively barren  of  animal  life.  The  nights  are 
untroubled  with  jarring  sound;  you  may 
almost  hear  the  needle  drop  from  the  pine. 
Little  creatures  of  the  wilderness,  indeed,  are 
abroad  :  trade-rats  that  will  steal  leather 
gloves  from  the  camp,  porcupines,  the  mal- 
odorous skunk  out  on  a  quiet  hunt  for  fish 
lioiies  and  broken  victuals,  but  they  all  move 
with  furtive  footsteps,  silent  and  shy.  No;  the 
trouble  comes  to  the  greenhorn  from  within  ; 
it  is  subjective.  Perhaps  his  ear  misses  the 
familiar  racket  of  the  city  street,  as  sleepers 
on  board  ship  awake  when  the  regular  throb 
of  the  screw  fails  to  pulsate. 

But  the  wakefulness  of  the  novitiate  soon 
passes  away.  Hard  work  in  the  open  air,  the 
tonic  of  ozone  and  spruce  balsam,  brace  and 
fortify  the  nervous  system.  The  kind  of  in- 
somnia that  comes  of  brain-fag  and  business 
worry  quickly  yields  to  the  influences  of  a 
wild  life,  when  a  man  enters  upon  it  with 
zest  and  abandon.  No  more  "drowsy  syrups 
of  the  East"  in  stoppered  bottles  for  him ;  he 
sleeps  now  like  a  log.  There  are  lapses,  of 
course,— camp  cookery  and  too  much  pork 
may  provoke  dyspepsia  and  sleeplessness.  And 
even  the  experienced  hunter  responds  at  night 
to  the  call  of  a  chill  breeze  or  one  of  Nature's 
less  overt  communications. 

The  summons  to  a  nocturnal  communion 
with  the  goddess  of  outdoors  is  no  unwelcome 
one  to  the  sleeper  whose  midnight  lair  is  made 
in  a  nook  of  the  High  Sierras.  The  night  is 
certain  to  be  clear ;  the  stars  of  autumn  are 
sparkling  in  the  sky :  the  bright  eye  of  Leo 
looks  down,  the  Scorpion  crooks  his  glittering 
tail  above  the  trees,  and  if  Venus  be  in  the 
ascendant  that  resplendent  planet  sheds  her 
influence  on  the  still  lake  in  a  beam  of 
trembling  silver.  From  the  canon  comes  the 
burden  of  innumerable  cascades,  from  the 
pine-trees  is  wafted  an  incense. 

But  the  sleeper  in  a  town  bedroom,  if  he  is 
roused  by  some  sudden  noise  in  the  street, 
wakes  in  a  heavy  air  with  the  smell  of  dust 
in  his  nostrils.  From  the  window  comes  a 
bluish   glimmer,   that  is  neither  light   of   star 


nor  moon.  Lying  broad  awake,  he  is  tl 
by  the  consciousness  of  urbanity,  of  all  the 
sad  struggle,  felt  though  unseen,  of  the  hiving 
throng  of  men.  The  cares  that  infest  the  day 
steal  back  to  roost  on  the  bed-rail  of  the  roof- 
sheltered  than.  Vexed  at  being  deprived  of 
the  rest  that  he  feels  to  be  his  due,  with  all 
appliances  and  means  to  slumber,  he  finds  it 
hard  to  drop  off  again.  But  drowsiness  does 
not  so  readily  slip  off  from  the  man  who 
wakes  at  midnight  outdoors.  He  is  not  fully 
roused,  his  eyes  are  yet  heavy  with  sleep.  It 
is  as  though  Mother  Nature,  visiting  her  child, 
had  lightly  touched  him  into  consciousness  of 
her  kindly  presence. 

So  when  the  dawn  comes  he  is  alert  and 
responsive  to  its  summons.  Hard  is  the  way 
of  the  slug-abed  in  the  bivouac.  An  indolent 
man,  fond  of  burrowing  under  the  bedclothes 
and  turning  the  other  shoulder  to  the  morning, 
is  ashamed  to  lie  flat  when  the  sun  is  up  and 
glaring  at  him.  The  saucy  gray  crow  caws  a 
rebuke  to  his  laziness.  But  the  active  fellow, 
rouses  at  the  point  of  day,  before  the  golden 
sign  is  shining  on  the  mountain  granite.  He 
shakes  off  his  torpor  in  an  instant,  erects 
himself  at  once  into  a  man,  and  laughs  at  the 
laggards  lying  swathed  like  mummies  in  their 
sleeping-bags,  or  sitting  up,  staring  and 
vacant,  like  tombstones  in  a  cemetery. 

Journeying  from  camp  to  camp,  and  making 
his  bed  each  night  in  a  fresh  place,  the  apt 
novice  develops  into  the  fellowcrafts  of  the 
bivouac.  He  has  many  things  to  learn, — also 
some  to  forget.  Superstitions  about  the 
danger  that  lurks  in  night-air — a  very  old 
bugbear  that  was  falsely  generalized  from  the 
true  observation  that  soldiers  suffered  from 
fever  after  bivouacking  near  marshes, — the 
timidities  of  the  townsman,  vague  fears  of 
lightning  stroke,  snakes  in  the  blankets,  prowl- 
ing bears ;  all  these  are  shed  early  from  the 
mind.  The  aptitudes  come  one  by  one. 
Knacks  and  contrivances  are  learned  from 
older  hands  by  imitation,  or  are  self-acquired 
at  the  promptings  of  mother-wit. 

A  smart  poodle  lost  in  the  woods  is  not 
more  bewildered  than  the  city-bred  man.  when 
with  unschooled  fingers  he  attempts  the  tasks 
of  the  outdoor  life.  In  the  Boer  war  it  was 
observed  that  the  volunteer  soldiers,  fresh 
from  London,  were  helpless  on  the  veldt. 
Their  cooking  fires  fizzled  out ;  they  did  not 
know  the  first  thing  about  bivouacking ;  they 
were  too  highly  specialized.  But  necessity 
soon  teaches  the  docile  pupil  many  little  in- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZIXE 


129 


ventions,  and  his  mind  grasps  them  the 
quicker  the  more  germs  of  primitive  man  his 
blood  has  inherited.  One  of  the  first  lessons 
is  how  to  shelter  the  sleeping-place  from  chilly 
rousing  winds.  A  screen  two  feet  high  suf- 
fices— so  humble  a  thing  is  man  recumbent, — 
the  lee  of  a  sand-bank  or  a  thick  bush.  Rather 
than  make  his  lodging  on  the  cold  ground,  the 
Australian  savage  rakes  over  it  the  ashes  of 
his  camp-fire  and  top-dresses  them  with  sand. 
This  useful  notion  has  occurred,  without  the 
intervention  of  telepathy,  to  other  wanderers 
in  the  wild.  Then  there  is  the  art  of  choosing 
your  ground,  of  avoiding  hollow  places  into 
which  cold  air  descends  at  night,  and  pre- 
ferring sand  for  a  couch  to  grass,  which, 
though  soft,  is  a  terrible  absorber  of  dew. 
You  may  have  read  all  about  "conduction"  and 
"radiation,"  but  physical  facts  are  only  dimly 
apprehended  from  books.  The  Indian  is  bet- 
ter at  choosing  a  night-lair  than  the  meteor- 
ologist, for  he  can  read  the  runes  of  Nature  at 
sight. 

In  thus  learning  intimately  from  Nature, 
there  is  a  true  and  abiding  pleasure.  "The 
only  real  knowledge,"  says  Froude,  "is  the 
knowledge  we  can  use;  the  rest  hangs  like 
dust  about  the  brain."  The  experiences  of 
the  bivouac,  indeed  all  woodcraft,  are  lessons 
in  that  kind.  And  there  are  additions  and 
enjoyments  more  subtle  and  refined:  the  sense 
of  color  is  enlarged ;  the  ear  is  attuned  to  per- 
ceive the  breeze-born  harmonies  of  the  forest; 
the  eye  is  opened  to  the  nocturnal  glory  of 
the  heavens.  Pent  in  the  populous  city,  how 
often  are  our  glances  turned  towards  the  sky? 


But  lying  out  in  the  open,  we  make  acquaint- 
ance with  the  stars,  pass  the  time  o'  night 
with  Orion  and  Pleiades,  and  time  the  day- 
spring  by  the  advent  of  the  morning  star. 

By  gradual  advancement  in  the  lodge  of 
the  open  air  the  fellowcraft  at  length  attains 
the  master's  degree.  But  ere  this  he  will  have 
been  tanned  by  the  smoke  of  many  camp  fires. 
And  as  his  sunburned  skin  renews  itself,  so 
does  his  inner  man  undergo  a  change.  Blooded 
to  the  open  and  the  wild,  he  returns,  his  vaca- 
tion ended,  to  walk  in  the  common  ways  of 
men  and  feels  stifled  at  night  by  the  close  air 
of  a  bedroom.  But  he  brings  with  him  a 
new  power  of  endurance,  a  capacity  to  eat 
hugely  and  with  gusto  of  whatever  is  set  be- 
fore him,  a  clearer  brain  and  an  eye  undimmed. 
Besides  these  physical  gains,  there  is  a 
spiritual  change,  more  subtile  and  less  ponder- 
able. For  man's  spiritual  life  is  indeed  re- 
newed in  the  arms  of  the  Earth-Mother.  All 
that  Nature  does  for  the  soul  that  is  truly 
touched  to  her  finer  issues  has  been  expressed 
once  for  all  in  Wordsworth's  "Lines  on  Re- 
visiting Tintern  Abbey."  Not  to  the  height 
of  that  great  argument  can  we  all  attain.  But 
in  those  who  are  endowed  with  some  portion 
of  a  kindred  spirit  nights  spent  afield  will 
quicken. 

"A  sense  sublime 

Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air. 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man; 
A  motion  and  a  spirit  that  impels 
All   thinking   things,   all   objects  of   all   thought. 
And  rolls  through  all  things." 


130 


WESTERN  FIELD 


WESTERN  FIELD 

The  Sportsman's  Magazine  of  the  West 


official  organ- 
Olympic  Athletic  Club 
and  the   California    Fish  and   Game 
Protective   Associations 


PUBLISHED   MONTHLY    BY 

THE  WESTERN  FIELD  COMPANY 

(incorporated) 
SAN  FRANCISCO.  CAL. 

Offices: 

609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 

Registered  at   the  San   Francisco   Postoffice  as  Second- 
Class  Matter 


FRANK  H.  MAYER 


Managing  Editor 


Matter  for  publication  should  be  addressed  "WEST- 
ERN FIELD."  (TO-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
San  Francisco.  Cal.,  and  not  to  individuals  connected 
with  the  magazine.  All  copy  for  new  advertisements, 
changes  or  discontinuances,  must  be  in  hand  not  later 
than  the  10th  of  the  month  preceding  date  of  issue,  in 
order  to  insure  attention. 

FOR  A  NON-SALE  LAW. 

In  the  name  of  the  People  of  California  we  de 
mand  at  the  hands  of  onr  Legislature,  at  its  next 
session,  the  enactment  and  embodiment  in  our  game 
law  of  a  statutory  clause  prohibiting-  the  sale  in 
this  State  of  any  game  bird  of  any  description  what- 
soever, and  fixing  a  commensurate  penalty  for  any 
violation  thereof. 

WHAT  WILL  THEY  DO  WITH  IT? 

MEVER  before  in  the  history  of  the  Cali- 
'  '  fornia  Fish  Commission  has  that  august 
body  found  itself  in  anything  like  the  fortuit- 
ous circumstances  that  favor  it  today,  in  so 
far  as  the  possession  of  funds  wherewith  to 
consistently  carry  out  the  work  of  its  office 
is  concerned.  For  the  first  time  in  its  exist- 
ence it  now  has  the  assurance,  if  indeed  it  has 
not  already  actual  possession,  of  money 
enough  to  carry  out  its  inceptive  mission,  and 
naturally  there  is  much  lively  speculation  as 
to  along  w-hat  particular  lines  the  largest 
expenditures  will  be  made. 

One  fact  should  imperatively  govern  the 
Commission  in  the  use  of  this  money :  it  be- 
ing the  direct  result  of  a  special  tax  levied 
solely  upon  sportsmen,  the  fund  accruing  from 
the     hunting     license     collections     should     be 


utilized  solely  in  the  interests  of  the  game  and 
game  fish  supply,  and  not  one  cent  of  it 
should  be  applied  upon  the  commercial  branch 
of  the  Commission's  work.  That  is,  the  money 
so  obtained  is  a  special  class  tax,  particularly 
devoted  by  statute  to  the  special  end  of  game 
protection  and  conservation,  and  not  one 
dollar  of  it  logically  should  be  spent  in  the 
propagation  of  salmon,  shad,  crayfish,  oysters, 
crabs,  etc.,  the  purely  commercial  products  of 
the  Commission's  office,  nor  should  any 
moiety  of  it  be  expended  in  the  prosecution 
of  those  who  violate  only  the  laws  connected 
with  these  commercial  things.  In  a  word,  the 
hunting  license  fund  should  be  applied  only 
to  the  advancement  of  the  game  and  sports- 
men's interests  pure  and  simple.  It  should  be 
used  to  build,  or  to  maintain  the  already  built 
hatcheries  of  trout,  grayling  and  striped  bass 
— all  of  which  are  typical  game  fishes ;  to  prop- 
agate and  distribute  native  game  birds, 
game  fishes  and  other  game  animals,  and  to 
import  and  introduce  desirable  foreign  species, 
and  to  perpetuate  and  increase  our  present 
supply;  to  prosecute  violations  of  the  game 
laws ;  to  provide  for  advanced  scientific  in- 
vestigations and  experiments  that  will  advance 
the  interests  first  of  the  game  and  second  of 
the  sportsmen ;  and  last  but  not  least  of  all  to 
compile  and  provide  for  general  distribution 
reports  and  other  literature  relating  specific- 
ally to  game  and  its  preservation. 

We  believe  that  this  will  be  done  with  as 
much  care,  exactitude  and  consistency  as  is 
possible  of  average  human  achievement,  and 
we  ask  sportsmen  to  kindly  remember  that 
perfection  is  not  reached  usually  at  the  first  or 
even  the  hundredth  attempt.  It's  an  almighty 
big  contract,  this  ideal  task  that  is  set  the 
Commission,  and  we  should  remember  that 
the  human  components  of  the  Board  and  its 
employees  are  fallible  mortals  like  ourselves. 
There  will  doubtlessly  be  mistakes  made — we 
anticipate  many  of  them  under  the  complex 
conditions — but  every  error,  when  proved  such, 
is  an  indispensable,  and  we  may  add  an  in- 
evitable as  well,  stepping-stone  to  the  truth. 
Therefore  we  earnestly  repeat  our  previous 
admonitions  to  be  slow  in  criticism,  slower 
in  condemnation  and  quick  in  support  and 
encouragement  of  the  Commission's  labors  in 
our  behalf. 

Don't  fall  into  the  arrogance  of  thinking  that 
fine-spun  individual  theories  are  facts  of  holy 
writ,   and   that   the   Commission   is   criminallv 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


derelict  if  it  does  not  immediately  and  aggres- 
sively adopt  and  act  upon  them — there  are 
about  an  hundred  thousand  sportsmen  in  this 
State,  each  with  a  separate  and  oppositive 
theory  of  his  very  own !  That  man  or  body  of 
men  who  would  vacillatingly  teeter  from  one 
to  another  of  these  theories  would  be  fitter 
candidates  for  a  lunatic  asylum  than  for  the 
grave  responsibilities  of  their  important  present 
office,  and  if  it  is,  as  an  eminent  sportsman 
recently  declared  in  this  office,  "up  to  the 
Commission  to  get  busy,  quick!"  it  is  likewise, 
"up  to"  the  sportsmen  of  California  to  get 
some  horse  sense — and  a  great  deal  more  con- 
,  sistency  and  genuine  sportsmanship  into  their 
actions  afield  and  astream.  For  it  is  the  bitter 
and  shameful  truth  that  for  every  unpalatable 
action  of  the  Commission's,  in  the  past,  the 
writer  has  personal  cognizance  of  a  hundred 
ungentlehianly,  indecent  and  unsportsmanlike 
acts  done  in  the  field  by  reputably  exponential 
representatives  of  the  sportsman's  guild. 

Now,  foreseeing  the  animadversions  that  the 
writer  expects  to  have  called  down  upon  his 
devoted  head  by  the  above  candid  statement  of 
truth,  we  beg  to  say  that  our  past  policy  will 
continue  to  be  our  present  and  future  one. 
When  the  occasion  requires  a  strenuous  throw- 
ing of  things  it  is  absolutely  immaterial  to  us 
whether  the  missiles  be  clubs  or  bouquets ;  we 
will  deliver  them  impartially  and  with  that 
directness  with  which  even  our  dearest 
enemies  say  is  characteristic.  We  play  no 
favorites  and  have  nobody  to  shield  or  screen. 
Our  line  is  the  straight  line  of  game  protec- 
tion and  genuine  sportsmanship  and  we  are 
going,  in  the  future  as  in  the  past,  to  hew  to  it ; 
and  as  California  conditions  make  mere 
whittling  an  effeminate  mockery  the  chips  may 
be  big  and  fall  heavily.  It  may  as  well  be  un- 
derstood right  here  that  the  bigger  and  heavier 
they  are  the  more  contented  we  will  sleep  of 
nights.  If  the  Fish  Commission  deserves 
blessing  we  won't  damn  them  to  suit  any  sore- 
head's whim ;  and  if  the  sportsmen  need  damn- 
ing we  won't  bless  'em  by  a sight !  West- 
ern Field,  recruited  inceptively  to  battle  for  the 
cause  of  game  protection,  is  enlisted  for  the 
whole  war,  and  it  fights  fairly,  if  a  bit  viciously. 
Its  slogan  is :  "True  game  protection,  first, 
last  and  always — and  hit  every  undeserving 
head !" 

Let  our  past  record  show  whether  we  have 
preserved  the  tradition. 


THE  EVIL  OF  COMPROMISE 

IT  IS  cheerfully  conceded  that  compromise  is 
a  permissible  procedure  at  times — especially 
in  matters  involving  reasonable  doubt;  it  often 
reconciles  grave  opposing  conditions  and  averts 
dangerous  crises,  but  a  compromise  between 
absolute  right  and  indisputable  wrong  is  vir- 
tually but  little  short  of  actual  crime  and 
should  never  be  entertained,  even  momentarily, 
as  it  always  defeats  its  own  ends. 

Take  the  absurd  deer-dogging  law  enacted 
by  our  last  Legislature.  We  are  consolingly 
assured  by  the  authors  of  that  grotesque  farce 
that  it  "was  necessary,  in  order  to  get  a  non- 
dogging  clause  enacted,  to  yield  something  to 
the  opposition."  The  extent  of  that  "com- 
promise" concession  reminds  us  of  the  story 
of  the  man  who  did  not  want  to  go  to  the 
theatre  while  his  wife  did.  They  "com- 
promised" by  going  to  the  theatre. 

There  was  neither  necessity  nor  room  for 
any  compromise  in  the  matter  of  deer-dogging. 
Either  the  practice  is  essentially  wrong  or  it  is 
substantially  right,  and  the  law  should  have 
been  framed  in  accordance  with  those  facts. 
As  it  stands  today  it  is  not  only  a  dead  letter 
in  the  matter  of  game  protection  effect,  but  it 
is  actually  a  deadly  menace  to  the  cause,  in 
that  it  incites  men  to  violations  of  law  and  will 
be  a  prolific  source  of  even  worse  things  than 
that — deliberate  perjury  for  instance. 

As  I  sit  here  in  a  well-known  Sonoma  sum- 
mer resort  writing  these  lines,  I  hear  on  the 
hills  above  the  baying  of  a  pack  of  deer-run- 
ning hounds — and  never  a  shot  has  been  fired 
since  that  deer  was  "jumped,"  so  the  animal 
has  not  been  wounded.  And  this,  too,  despite 
the  universally  known  presence,  in  the  imme- 
diate vicinity,  of  a  force  of  deputy  game  war- 
dens engaged  in  the  commendable  work  of  re- 
stocking the  neighboring  streams  with  trout. 

A  settler  living  only  a  few  miles  from  here 
has  also  captured  and  turned  over  to  Deputy 
Warden  Lee  a  hound  which  he  found  running 
unwounded  deer,  the  said  dog  being  one  of  a 
reputed  pack  of  seventeen  dogs  brought  over 
from  a  nearby  summer  resort  for  the  ostensible 
purpose  of  catching  the  unfortunate  deer  which 
these  Nimrods — said  to  be  all  fair  shots — are 
morally  sure  to  only  wound  when  still-hunting 
in  strict  accordance  with  the  law.  And  yet  we 
are  solemnly  assured  by  the  dogging  contingent 
that  a  still-hunted  deer  has  no  chance  for  his 
life — is  always  meanly  "sneaked  up"  upon  and 


132 


WESTERN  FIELD 


killed  in  his  tracks  liki-  an  ambuscaded  i 

Pope's  famous  line : 

pe  springs  triumphant  nn  exulting  wings," 
never  had  a  more  universal  application  than 
upon  deer  hunters.  Let  one  of  the  optimistic 
fraternity — and  he  need  not  be  necessarily  a 
tenderfoot  at  the  sport,  either — get  a  shot  at 
reasonable  range,  and  if  he  isn't  morally  sure 
that  he  hit  that  deer,  he  hopes  he  did  anyway ; 
lie  ought  to  have  at  all  events — and  the 
chances  are  that  he  did.  The  more  he  thinks 
about  it  the  more  the  doubt  dissolves  and  is 
soon  replaced  with  conviction  strong  enough 
to  justify  his  turning  loose  his  dog.  And  this, 
mind  you,  on  the  part  of  a  really  conscientious 
sportsman.  As  to  the  other  kind — well,  that  is 
the  fellow  who  is  running  the  pack  I  hear. 

While  we  are  upon  this  subject  of  devious 
deer-hunting  we  desire  to  heartily  commend 
the  suggestions  of  Wardens  Welch  and  Lee, 


who  point  out  the  necessity  of  having  deer 
coupons  attached  to  every  license,  such  coupons 
or  tags  to  be  affixed  to  deer  when  kill 
turned  in,  under  proper  "tab-keeping"  pro- 
visions, to  the  clerk  of  the  county  in  which 
such  deer  were  killed,  or  some  other  authority 
deputized  to  receive  same.  In  the  absence  of 
such  a  safeguard  upon  the  legal  limit  per 
license,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  detect  and 
convict  violators  of  the  bag  limit.  We  hope  to 
see  this  "tag"  system  adopted  by  the  next  Legis- 
lature, where  we  also  hope  to  see  enacted 
either  a  sensible  and  absolute  non-dogging 
amendment,  void  of  all  "compromise'"  non- 
sense— or  a  full  and  complete  repeal  of  that 
foolish  clause.  Either  let  deer  be  dogged  as 
before  the  last  enactment,  or  stop  the  running 
of  deer  by  dogs  absolutely.  Let  us  either  stay 
at  home  or  go  to  the  theatre  without  further 
puerile  complications. 


££ 


<H 


A  FAMILY  BREEZE 

OUT   of   the  west   came  a   soft  little  breeze, 
Gently   it   swept  o'er  the   whispering  trees. 
It  laughed  with  the  brook  and  it  sang  with  the  sea, 
While    the    East    Wind    listened    wonderingly. 

Listened    and   grumbled,    and    called   aloud 

For  a  darkened  sky  and  a  long  dull  cloud; 

Then   he  dashed   at  the   sea,   while  the  pine  trees  tall 

Bowed   their   heads  at   the   East   Wind's  call. 

"Oh,   dear;    dear   me!"    sighed   the   little   West    Wind, 

"And  he  my  own  cousin,  and  so  unkind. 

"Trying   to    chase   me    out   of    the    sky! 

Well,    he'll    surely    see    trouble    by    and   by." 

So    the    little    breeze    whispered,    and    vanished    away, 

While     the     East     Wind    clouded    the     Summer    day. 

Then  uncle  North  Wind,  with  a  gruesome  shout 

Between    the    mountains    came    rushing    out. 

He  pushed  the  East  Wind  out  to  sea. 

And   he   called   aloud:    "Hearken,    now,   to   me. 

For    I    am   the   head    of   this    family." 

(And  the  South  Wind  listened  and  said  "Te  he!") 

"When    little    West    Breezes    are    out    at    play, 

You,  nephew  East  Wind,  keep  out  of  the  way." 

"I  will  have  peace,"  uncle  North  Wind  said; 

And    he   blustered    off    to    his    North    Pole   bed. 

Then  aunt  South  Wind  whispered,  but  all  could  hear, 

•"Try  and  be  more  quiet,  children  dear." 

Then    her    murmuring    voice    softly    died    away, 

And   back   came   the    little    West    Winds    to   play. 

— Alice    Turner   Curtis. 


c-j 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


133 


A    BIG   COUGAR 

COUGAR  is  simply  a  big  chunky 
cat,  with  all  the  characteristics  of 
that  animal,  teeth,  claws  and  strength 
enlarged  just  in  proportion  to  its 
size.  Imagine  a  cat  weighing  150 
pounds  and  measuring  10  feet  from 
tip  to  tip  and  you  will  have  in  your 
mind  the  identical  cougar  of  which 
I  write.  Go  back  with  me  a  short 
time  and  let  us  see  how  this  gentle- 
man passed  his  time,  and  what  use 
he  made  of  his  life  and  strength. 
He  is  lying  asleep  in  a  fir  thicket  stretched  out 
in  the  warm  rays  of  the  sun,  for  it  is  spring  and 
he  has  made  a  kill,  and  eaten  his  fill,  and  will  not 
leave  the  vicinity  as  long  as  his  victim  remains  fit 
to  eat.  Eating  from  the  carcass  and  hiding  away 
near  in  some  thicket  is  the  daily  routine  till  the 
murderer  has  eaten  his  victim  or  putrefaction  has  set 
in.  After  several  days  hunger  compels  him  to  seek 
fresh  grounds;  for  deer,  his  natural  prey,  leave  the 
vicinity   where  a  cougar   is  known   to  be. 

He  wanders  about,  picking  up  a  grouse  or  a  rabbit  if 
possible  as  he  is  now  very  alert  from  hunger.  At 
last,  after  several  days  of  wandering,  his  head  is 
raised  carefully  over  a  log,  his  ears  prick  up  and  all 
his  actions  show  excitement  and  extreme  caution.  He 
crouches  down  behind  the  log,  raises  his  head  very 
slowly  till  he  can  look  again,  and  after  a  careful 
survey  down  goes  his  head.  Getting  a  bush  in  line 
he  steals  forward  noiselessly  but  quickly  to  the  shelter 
of  the  bush,  here  lying  close  and  flat  on  the  ground 
he  peers  through  or  around  the  bush  and  now  we 
see  for  the  first  time  what  has  attracted  his  atten- 
tion. 

A  doe  is  feeding  on  the  tender  leaves  and  buds 
of  the  forest,  and  while  we  are  looking  moves  along 
a  little  farther.  Instantly  down  goes  his  head  and 
another  sneak  is  made  to  some  knoll,  stump,  log, 
hollow  or  bush — any  thing  for  concealment;  he  is 
using  all  the  arts  of  his  cruel  nature  to  get  near 
enough  to  the  unsuspecting  doe  to  spring  upon  her 
and  with  those  cruel  claws  and  sharp  teeth  make 
short  work  of  her  harmless  life.  The  doe  is  wary 
and  feeds  in  comparatively  open  ground  and  the 
cougar  can  not  get  near  enough  to  spring  on  her,  so 
he  steals  along  as  opportunity  offers  till  at  last  to  his 
great  joy  she  enters~a  thicket.    This  is  an  opportunity 


he  takes  advantage  of  at  once;  he  steals  forward 
silently  and  swiftly  as  fate  and  crouches  for  his 
spring.  The  poor  innocent  doe  stands  there  nursing 
her  fawns  which  she  had  hidden  away  in  the  thicket. 
As  his  form  rises  in  the  air  some  power  warns  her  of 
her  danger  and  with  a  sudden  spring  she  darts  away 
just  as  those  cruel  claws  graze  her  hips,  inflicting 
several  severe  scratches.  She  saves  her  own  life  by  a 
lacerated  skin  but  her  young  are  killed  and  devoured 
by  the  monster. 

A  cougar  has  no  regard  for  the  game  laws  and  not 
much  respect  for  the  game  warden  himself;  for  his 
kill  lasts  but  a  short  time  and  ne  is  again  on  the 
move.  The  game  warden  has  heard  of  a  camp  where 
they  are  killing  deer  illegally  out  of  season  and  he 
is  on  the  way  to  investigate;  in  passing  through  the 
forest  he  is  seen  by  this  great  brute,  instantly  the 
cougar  is  on  the  alert  and  stealing  forward  to  some 
log  he  peers  over  and  watches  this  strange  animal. 
In  his  younger  days  he  felt  afraid  of  that  animal,  but 
now  as  he  is  older  and  so  much  larger  and  stronger 
he  has  almost  a  mind  to  spring  upon  him,  and  follows 
him  a  long  ways  watching  for  a  good  opportunity. 
Only  the  natural  fear  all  animals  seem  to  have  of 
man  deters  him  from  the  attack,  and  he  follows  the 
warden  for  miles,  almost  on  the  point  of  attacking 
him,  while  the  warden  all  unconscious  of  his  danger 
goes   his   way. 

This  cougar's  life  was  but  a  repetition  of  the 
above,  until  one  day  he  heard  a  cracking  and  tramp- 
ing of  brush  by  some  animal  and  went  to  investigate. 
It  was  a  large  animal  with  vicious  looking  horns  and 
he  was  afraid  to  attack  it.  There  were  others  of  the 
same  kind  all  around  him  and  he  sneaked  and 
watched  them  for  a  long  time.  He  discovered  there 
were  smaller  animals  among  these  that  were  about 
the  size  of  deer  and  had  no  horns.  He  felt  sure 
that  he  had  courage  and  strength  to  kill  one  of  these 
and  he  watched  the  herd  till  one  of  these  smaller 
animals  became  tired  and  lay  down — an  easy  prey 
for  him.  And  so  it  went  until  the  day  of  his 
retributive    undoing. 

Probably  a  deer  or  its  equivalent  each  week  is  not 
too  large  an  estimate  for  a  cougar's  destructiveness. 
Fifty  deer  each  year  is  a  pretty  good  tax  on  our 
game  to  pay  for  his  useless  support,  but  an  honest 
cougar  must  live.  They  are  great  wanderers  and 
roam  from  one  locality  to  another,  they  are  possessed 
of  considerable  cunning,  and  will  often  evade  a  pack 
of  dogs  by  running  over  cliffs  of  rocks  where  the 
dogs  cannot  follow  them.  Mr.  Quine  reports  one 
that  his  dogs  have  started  and  chased  several  times 
but  he  always  makes  for  a  cliff  of  rocks  and  in 
some  manner  evades  the  dogs  and  escapes  each  time. 
He  is  thought  to  be  a  large,   old,  and  cunning  brute. 

The  particular  cougar  shown  in  the  picture  had  in 
his  wanderings  crossed  the  road  on  Middle  Creek 
during  the  night  when  Mr.  Quine  was  at  the  home 
of  Albert  Bolenbaugh  who  lives  on  Middle  Creek. 
In  the  morning  as  Mr.  Quine  was  returning  to  his 
own  home  he  saw  the  track  of  the  "varmint"  in  the 
road  and  calling  the  attention  of  "Schley"  his  best 
"varmint"  dog,  to  the  track,  he  had  the  satisfaction 
of  hearing  him  give  tongue  and  start  off  on  the  cold 
trail,  Becoming  satisfied  after  a  little  time  that  his 
dog  was  going  to  rout  him,  he  returned  to  the  home 
of  Mr.  Bolenbaugh  to  get  a  gun  as  he  had  left  his 
own  at   home.     Returning  with   Mr.    Bolenbaugh,   they 


I.U 


ERN  FIELD 


ird  old  Schlej   barking  "treed,"  and  on  «"■"« 

to  him  found  linn  barking  at  t lie  foot  <>i'  i  tree  but 

could  ni't  see  the  cougar.    Mr.  Bolenbaugh's  shepherd 

lolned  the  chorus  and  on  investigation  they 

found   that   Mr,    Cougar   had   played   a   trick   Id 

Schley  by  going  up  one  side  of  the  tree  and  then 
jumping  off  the  oilier  side  onto  a  cliff  of  rocks,  and 
I  down  tins  to  another  tree  where  the 
shepherd  dog  had  him.  Old  Schley  had  simply  followed 
his  nose  to  the  first  tree  and  stayed  there.  The 
cougar  lay  stretched  out  on  a  big  limb  and  a  single 
shut  from  Mr.  liolenliaugh's  .30-30,  directed  by  him- 
self and  penetrating  both  shoulders,  laid  the  big  cat 
at  the  foot  of  the  tree  among  the  dogs;  another 
shot  through  the  head,  for  fear  of  damage  to  some 
of  the  dogs,  made  him  a  good  cougar  for  evermore. 

President  Roosevelt  increases  my  admiration  of  his 
sterling  qualities  every  time  he  takes  his  "big  stick" 
and  goes  out  for  health  and  recreation  after  such 
"varmints."  They  do  more  to  decimate  the  deer 
than  all  the  skin  butchers  and  market  hunters  com- 
bined. A  bounty  of  $20  on  each  cougar  would  be  one 
of  the  best  employments  of  our  game  funds  and 
would  do  more  towards  the  preservation  of  our 
big  game  than  all  the  non-enforced  laws  that  our 
legislators  take  such  a  biennial  pride  in  making. 

Riddle,  Ore.  WALTER   S.    BRITT. 


THOSE  ERRORS  OF  THE  WILD 

TO  THE  writer  of  the  timely  and  interesting  article 
on  the  "Slander  of  Wild  Animals"  in  the  July 
issue  of  Western  Field,  I  desire  to  say  that 
in  one  prominently  expressed  premise  he  is  unquestion- 
ably wrong.  Hunters  and  pioneers  the  world  over, 
and  a  reasonable  majority  of  readers  in  the  various 
walks  of  private  life,  will  not  brand  him  as  an 
heretical  faker,  nor  yet  as  a  glassy-eyed  lunatic. 
What  he  states  as  the  result  of  his  experience  with 
the  denizens  of  the  forest  conesponds  exactly  to  that 
of  intelligent  hunters  and  nature  students  in  every 
land  and  clime.  There  are  many  popular  errors 
afloat  concerning  various  features  of  our  solar  planet, 
the  origin  of  which  is  shrouded  in  mystery,  as  also 
the  reason  why  they  are  given  such  widespread 
acceptance  as  fact. 

However,  there  is  much  seemingly  good  evidence 
to  those  who  have  never  taken  the  trouble  to  in- 
vestigate, in  support  of  the  popular  fallacies  which 
Mr.  Frakes  sets  forth  in  his  article — especially  the 
time-honored  myth  of  the  panther's  scream.  Fore- 
most in  this  is  undoubtedly  the  sincere  and  quite 
incomprehensible  belief  of  the  native  Indians  that 
this  is  so.  Why  the  redman,  who  has  become  familiar 
with  the  voice  of  every  living  creature  of  his  native 
wilderness  through  generations  of  close  study  and 
association  with  them,  should  make  this  singular 
mistake  is  not  quite  clear  to  nature  students  who 
comprehend  that  the  lion's  scream  is  against  all 
common  sense  and  all  the  laws  of  that  crafty  animal's 
being.  But  then,  the  philosophy  of  many  an  Indian 
tradition  and  belief  is  not  given  to  the  narrow  in- 
tellect of  the  white  man  to  span. 


Another  point  in  the  chain  ol  evidence  along  this 
line  is  our  old  friend,  the  dog.  It  is  well  known 
that  the  mountain  lion  is  a  deadly  enemy  of  the 
i  mine  race,  snd  is  one  animal  of  which  most  dogs 
Stand  hi  mortal  terror.  Now,  many  hunters  and 
woodsmen  of  the  West  have  sometimes  been  startled 
by  a  weird,  uncanny  scream  from  the  depths  of  the 
forest  which  sent  the  faithful  companion  of  the 
trail  .old  the  camp-fire  crouching  and  trembling  to 
its  master's  feet.  With  the  generally  accepted  belief 
in  the  panther's  scream,  of  course  this  would  be  taken 
as  proof  positive  that  a  prowling  cougar  was  close 
by,  ready  to  pounce  upon  his  luckless  victim  should 
the  chance  present  itself.  The  dog  has  many  human 
traits,  and  I  believe  that  the  weird,  rasping  cry  of 
the  screech-owl — about  as  gruesome  a  sound  as  can 
well  be  produced  by  any  noise  machine,  either  natural 
or  mechanical — will,  under  certain  circumstances, 
cause  him  a  feeling  ot  nervous  terror  the  same  as 
felt  by  his  lord  and  master.  Such  things  are  simply 
misleading  evidence  and  can  be  far  more  easily  ex- 
plained away  than  reasons  be  given  for  the  panther 
deliberately  sounding  a  terrific  note  of  warning  to  the 
creatures  upon  which  he  preys  for  a  livelihood. 

Mr.  Frakes  might  have  gone  further  into  the  subject 
and  called  attention  to  several  other  "authentic" 
errors  which  have  long  been  a  part  of  our  general 
education.  Who  among  us,  having  read  the  standard 
natural  histories  of  the  day  and  added  thereto  a 
smattering  of  oral  information  from  reliable  sources, 
doesn't  know  that  the  North  American  tarantula  is 
one  of  the  most  poisonous  and  dreaded  members  of 
the  world's  spider  family?  That  this  great  hairy 
insect  only  waits  for  its  victim  to  approach  within 
the  proper  distance  to  leap  upon  him  like  a  tiger  and 
sink  its  poisonous  stings  in  his  flesh,  for  the  deadly 
venom  of  which  there  is  no  antidote?  Go  where  you 
will  among  the  people  of  a  country  where  the 
tarantula  thrives,  and  no  end  of  men  will  tell  you 
that  they  have  heard  of  many  cases  of  death  from 
its  poison  sting.  But,  lo!  no  one  will  tell  you  that 
he  ever  saw  the  thing  happen.  And  strange  to  say, 
recent  investigations  and  tests  by  expert  scientists 
have  signally  failed  to  determine  the  quality  of  the 
poison  which  the  tarantula  secretes — for  the  some- 
what disconcerting  reason  that  no  trace  of  poison 
of  any  sort  could  be  found.  And  the  tarantula  is 
not  a  vicious  spider.  Neither  does  he  leap  upon  his 
victim,  unless  that  victim  be  a  fly  or  other  insect 
with  which  he  supplies  his  table.  He  crawls  about  in 
the  dust  and  deep  cracks  of  the  dry  soil  which  is 
his  native  home,  seldom  showing  himself  to  the  gaze 
of   man. 

Many  similar  features  of  the  subject  might  be 
brought  out  and  the  chaff  sifted  from  the  wheat, 
but  this  is  simply  a  brief  comment  on  Mr.  Frakes' 
pointed  article,  not  a  chapter  of  the  same  story,  and 
I  am  sure  that  all  readers  of  Western  Field  will  be 
glad  to  see  other  and  more  able  comments  along 
the  same  line. 

('.  S.  C. 


OT  manj'  generations  ago,  when 
your  granddad  or  his  father 
found  it  necessary  to  replenish 
the  larder  or  to  thin  out  the 
too  numerous  Indians,  he 
stepped  to  the  big  fireplace, 
reached  up  and  took,  from  the 
horns  above,  a  long-barreled, 
straight  stocked  muzzle-loading 
rifle.  This  was  either  flintlock 
or  percussion  cap. 

When  he  set  the  stock  on  the  floor  the 
muzzle  was  on  a  level  with  the  top  of  his 
head — and  he  stood  six  feet  in  his  socks  at 
that ! 

Wiping  the  barrel  out,  he  would  pour  in  a 
thimbleful  of  black  powder,  poor  powder  at 
that,  and  on  top  of  this  would  drive  home  a 
little  round  bullet  not  much  larger  than  a 
pea.  If  he  were  a  crank — as  he  very  likely  was, 
the  bullet  would  be  neatly  wrapped  in  a  piece 
of  cloth,  well  greased.  Then  tapping  a  little 
powder  into  the  priming  hole,  and  putting  on 
a  cap  if  he  was  using  a  percussion  cap  rifle, 
he  would  set  out  and  woe  be  to  the  living 
thing  upon  which  he  drew  trigger. 

Before  this  pattern  of  rifle  every  form  of  big 
game  on  the  American  continent  from  the 
timber  wolf  to  the  enormous  grizzly  has  fallen, 
and  as  the  rifle  took  considerable  time  for 
loading,  one  shot  as  a  rule  did  the  work. 

Nowadays,  the  old  gentleman's  grandson, 
setting  forth  on  a  similar  errand,  will  go  to 
his  gun  cabinet,  take  out  a  beautifully  finished 
little  rifle  about  two  inches  longer  than  the 
old  fashioned  horse  pistol,  slip  a  steel  box  or 
a  clip  of  cartridges  into  the  rifle,  press  the 
button  and  he  has  six  terrible  crushing  shots 
which  he  can  fire  as  fast  as  he  can  crook  his 
trigger  finger.  And  more  than  this,  six  more 
cartridges  can  be  slipped  into  the  rifle  to  re- 
place the  fired  ones  in  the  time  it  took  the  old 
gentleman  to  cap  his  "Pea  rifle". 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  old  muzzle-loader, 
with  its  slow  and  cumbersome  way  of  recharg- 
ing, to  the  modern  automatic  rifle  with  its 
wonderful    rapidity   of   fire    and    the    crushing 


blows  which  it  is  capable  of  dealing;  but  in 
spite  of  the  wonderful  improvement  in  the 
rifle  the  man  behind  the  gun  has  retrograded, 
to  a  degree  almost  approaching  in  inverse- 
ratio  the  improvement  of  his  arm. 

It  behooves  the  average  hunter  of  the 
present  day  to  pay  less  attention  to  the  type 
of  rifle  which  he  intends  taking  afield  with 
him,  and  more  to  the  old  sine  qua  non  of  the 
game  getter:  the  ability  to  hit  what  he  shoots 
at.  There  is  no  doubt  but  that  the  modern 
repeater  with  its  rapidity  of  fire  has  done  more 
than  anything  else  to  discourage  accurate 
shooting. 

The  hunter  of  the  present  day  runs  across 
a  buck,  we  will  say  seventy  yards  off.  The 
deer  is  unaware  of  his  presence  and  stands 
motionless.  If  the  hunter  knew  that  he  had 
just  one  shot  at  his  command  so  far  as  that 
particular  deer  was  concerned,  and  that  it 
would  take  a  minute  or  so  to  reload  after  the 
one  shot  had  been  fired,  he  would  take  the 
greatest  pains  to  make  that  one  shot  tell,  and 
most  likely  at  the  crack  of  the  rifle  the  deer 
would  collapse  and  the  hunter  would  return  to 
camp   happy. 

Instead,  the  hunter  knows  that  the  weapon 
in  his  hands  contains  six  shots.  He  can  dis- 
charge all  six  in  three  seconds  and,  fortified 
with  this  knowledge,  he  takes  a  poor  aim  at 
the  bulk  of  the  buck,  drives  a  great  tearing 
bullet  through  the  entrails  of  the  poor  beast 
and  away  goes  the  deer  in  fearful  agony  with 
the  bullets  whizzing  all  round  him.  The  hunter 
may  get  him  but  nine  times  out  of  ten  he  will 
not,  and  the  animal  will  die  in  some  secluded 
spot  with  agonies  that  an  Apache  would  be 
ashamed  to  inflict. 

Then  again,  we  have  another  type  of  modern 
rifle,  the  arm  shooting  a  bullet  with  a  force 
that  would  put  to  shame  the  big  four  gauge 
elephant  express  rifles.  Take  the  new  .35 
calibre  and  .405  high  power  rifles  with  a 
velocity  of  two  thousand  feet  or  over,  and  a 
striking  force  considerably  over  a  ton.  If  the 
force  exerted  by  one  of  these  bullets  were 
applied  behind  a  hundred  pound  iron  weight. 


136 


UIISTERX  FIELD 


it  would  crush  tlic  sides  of  the  game  in  its 
way  like  an  eggshell.  A  bullet  of  this 
character,  fired  by  a  man  who  is  a  good  shot, 
is  undoubtedly  the  most  merciful  of  any,  as 
striking  in  any  vital  part  it  would  prove  in- 
stantly fatal.  But  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
the  man  using  a  rille  of  this  character 
is  a  poor  shot,  otherwise  such  a  cannon 
would  be  unnecessary  and  he  would  take  a 
lighter,  less  burdensome  arm  which  would 
do  the  work  cleaner  and  with  less  discomfort 
to  himself. 

The  green  hand,  buying  a  rifle,  will  look  the 
catalogue  over,  examine  the  samples  of  the 
terrible  power  of  the  rifle  in  the  gun  dealer's 
window,  and  then  figure  that  with  this  sort  of 
a  gun  that  it  will  only  be  necessary  for  him 
to  land  on  the  deer  anywhere  in  its  anatomy  to 
get  the  venison. 

It  is  impossible  to  get  away  from  the  fact 
that  a  shot  in  the  right  place  will  kill,  and  a 
shot  in  a  spot  where  no  vitals  are  reached  will 
not  kill,  regardless  of  the  "smashing,  tearing 
effect"'  of  the  bullet.  The  deer  will  very  likely 
die  eventually  of  the  terrible  wound  but  it  will 
be  miles  away  from  the  hunter.  One  might 
fire  a  shot  through  the  belly  of  a  deer  or 
bear  with  one  of  Uncle  Sam's  new  breech- 
loading  3-inch  field  pieces  and  yet  the  game 
might  get  away  far  enough  to  escape  the 
hunter. 

The  old  muzzle-loading  Kentucky  rifles  had 
a  striking  force  of  maybe  an  eighth  of  the 
modern  .405  high  power  rifle.  Their  extreme 
range  was  not  over  two  hundred  yards,  and 
the  modern  black  powder  .25-20  rifle  is 
superior  in  force  to  them ;  yet  the  man  wfho 
would  go  deer  hunting  or  tackle  a  bear  with 
a  .25-20  would  be  regarded,  to  put  it  mildly, 
as  a  crank  of  the  first  water.  Now  the 
grizzly  is  nearly  if  not  altogether  extinct,  and 
yet  he  does  not  owe  this  to  any  automatic 
rifles  nor  any  young  cannon.  More  big  game 
was  killed  with  the  old  muzzle-loading  rifles 
in  a  year  in  the  days  gone  by,  than  is  killed 
now  in  ten.  While  it  is  true  that  the  big 
game  was  much  more  plentiful  in  those  days, 
yet  this  simply  goes  to  show  that  the  old 
fashioned,  weak-shooting,  slow  muzzle-loading 
rifle  was  entirely  adequate  in  the  hands  of  a 
good  shot,  and  that  the  use  of  the  ultra  high 
power  rifles  of  the  present  day  is  a  tacit 
admission  that  the  user  is  not  a  good  shot. 

A  modern  .30-30  would  have  been  a  wonder- 
ful thing  thirtv  vears  ago.  and  a  hunter  who 


was  a  good  shot,  armed  with  a  rifle  of  this 
type,  would  have  felt  himself  to  be  nearly 
invincible ;  yet  we  hear  the  statement  oft 
repeated  now  days  that  the  .30-30  is  not  heavy 
enough,  that  the  deer  hunter  should  use  a  .35 
or  a  .405 !  The  elephant  hunters,  twenty  years 
ago,  did  not  use  guns  with  anywhere  near  the 
smashing  power  of  the  .405  and  yet  we  see 
"Ximrods"  cutting  loose  at  a  little  animal 
about  as  big  as  a  large  dog,  with  soft  flesh  and 
nowhere  near  the  tenacity  of  life  of  the  cat 
family,  with  one  of  these  murderous,  hard- 
kicking  weapons. 

Let  the  hunter  get  a  .25-36,  a  .30-30  or  a 
.32-40  high  power  repeater.  Let  him  get 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  rifle  and  shoot 
it  on  a  range  a  couple  of  hundred  times,  and 
then  when  he  gets  in  sight  of  the  game,  if  he 
will  forget  that  he  has  more  than  one  shot  at 
his  command  and  do  the  best  with  the  one  in 
the  barrel,  he  will  land  just  as  many  bucks  as 
the  man  with  the  cannon  and  won't  send  so 
many  poor  little  beasts,  with  their  soft  eyes 
filled  with  the  agony  of  the  awful  wound,  off 
to  die  a  thousand  deaths  somewhere  in  the 
brush. 

The  main  idea  is  to  learn  how  to  shoot, 
to  use  the  first  shot  to  kill  the  game,  and  to 
use  any  shots  in  reserve  merely  as  an  auxiliary 
in  case  of  extreme  necessity.  Nine  hunters  out 
of  ten,  going  out  on  their  first  deer  hunt,  look 
upon  the  second  shot  as  being  as  good  as  the 
first,  merely  because  it  is  so  "handy"  to  use. 

When  you  come  to  think  about  it,  doesn't  it 
seem  that  the  arm  which  will  do  the  work 
cleanly  and  neatly  and  yet  give  the  deer  a 
show  for  his  "white  alley"  in  case  you  miss,  is 
more  worthy  of  a  sportsman  than  the  lead- 
squirting  arm  whose  sole  recommendation  is 
its  "effectiveness".  A  stick  of  dynamite 
properly  applied  is  still  more  effective.  A  man 
with  an  eight-bore  shotgun  loaded  with  a 
handful  of  buckshot  can  score  a  good  many 
deer  in  a  season,  but  he  will  have  little  reason 
for  congratulating  himself  on  his  marksman- 
ship. 

It  is  not  the  aim  of  this  article  to  decry  the 
modern  extreme  high  power  of  the  automatic 
rifles,  but  there  is  one  great  objection  to  be 
urged  against  these  guns ;  they  encourage  poor 
marksmanship.  They  are  really  little  more 
effective  than  the  arm  of  more  moderate  power 
but  it  is  hard  to  make  a  green  hand  see  this. 
A  man  who  does  not  get  his  deer  the  first 
shot  is  almight  lucky  to  slip  in  a  second  shot, 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


137 


be  he  quick  as  lightning  with  the  rifle,  even 
be  the  rifle  the  latest  type  of  speedy 
"automatic."  The  man  who  hits  his  game  only 
through  the  flank  or  belly  won't  eat  any 
venison  from  that  deer,  even  if  the  bullet  he 
fires  does  strike  with  the  blow  of  a  ton. 

A  man  getting  a  deer  should  be  able  to 
feel  that  he  was  a  little  smarter  than  the  deer 
in  the  first  place,  and  that  he  was  a  good 
enough  shot  to  take  advantage  of  his  cleverness 
when  he  gets  near  enough. 

After  all,  the  meat  of  a  deer  is  poor  com- 
pensation for  the  expense  and  trouble  and 
time  necessitated  by  a  deer  hunt.  The  glory  of 
having  been  able  to  find  the  crafty  deer  in  his 
own  native  heath,  and  of  being  a  good  enough 
shot  to  bag  the  game,  is  about  all  there  is  to 
a  deer  hunt ;  and  the  man  who  can  look  back 
to  his  two  bucks  and  remember  the  two  clean 
shots  with  the  little  rifle  that  landed  the  game, 
has  gotten  the  most  for  his  trouble  and  time, 
while  the  man  who  got  his  game  by  squirting 
lead  through  the  surrounding  atmosphere  until 
a  chance  shot  landed,  has  little  to  brag  of. 

It  is  a  strange  thing  in  this  modern  day  of 
sportsmanlike  hunting,  when  the  little  16  and 
20  gauge  shotgun  has  nearly  supplanted  the 
old  12's  and  10's  with  the  scattergun  lovers, 
that  the  tendency  should  run  toward  the  big 
rapid-fire  cannon  which  are  so  often  used  in 
deer  hunting.  An  automatic  rifle  used  as  an 
automatic  rifle  is  equivalent  to  pot-hunting; 
squirting  shot  at  random  at  a  passing  flock 
of  ducks,  in  the  hopes  of  landing  one  by  the 
number  of  shots  he  is  pouring  into  their  midst, 
is  not  clean  sportsmanship.  Of  course  there 
are  many  good  shots  using  the  automatic 
rifle  and  the  extreme  high-power  guns,  and 
in  the  hands  of  a  good  shot  they  are,  of  course, 
more  effective.  That  is,  they  will  smash  up 
more  meat  and  spoil  the  hide  a  little  more.  As 
Patrick  would  say,  they  kill  the  deer  a  little 
deader. 

The  .30-30  or  .32-40  is  large  enough  and 
strong  enough  for  any  game  on  this  con- 
tinent— or  for  that  matter  on  any  other  con- 
tinent— and  any  higher  power  is  simply  wasted. 

Deer  have  been  killed  by  .22  calibre  rifles 
in  a  good  many  instances,  and  for  a  man  to 
carry  a  cannon  when  he  is  a  good  shot,  is  fool- 
ishness. If  he  is  not  a  good  shot,  nothing  will 
be  of  any  use  to  him  except  learning  to  shoot, 
whether  the  rifle  be  a  .22  or  a  .405. 

A  repeater  is  of  course  desirable  but  a  man 
sho'.ild  train  himself  to  forget  that  anv  other 


shots  are  available  except  the  one  in  the  barrel. 
The  three  rifles  named,  the  .25-36,  .30-30  and 
.32-40  with  their  equivalents  in  the  .32  Marlin 
and  Winchester  Special,  have  more  than 
enough  power  but  are  not  to  be  called  extreme. 
All  three  of  these  rifles  develop  an  initial 
velocity  of  practically  2,000  feet  per  second 
and  a  striking  force  of  about  1700  pounds. 
There  is  no  occasion  for  even  this  power,  with 
most  of  the  game  on  the  American  continent. 
if  the  man  behind  the  rifle  is  a  reasonable 
shot;  but  the  rifles  named  will  kill  cleanly, 
have  little  recoil  and  can  be  gotten  in  very 
light  weights.  The  user  of  one  of  them  has 
no  one  to  blame  but  himself  if  he  fails  to  land 
anything  from  a  grizzly  down.  After  all,  the 
man  behind  the  gun  is  the  determining  factor, 
not  any  particular  make  of  gun,  any  calibre 
or  soft  point  bullet. 

If  you  hit  your  deer  through  the  shoulders, 
in  the  heart,  through  the  neck  or  in  the  head 
with  any  one  of  the  rifles  referred  to  he  is 
yours ;  if  you  don't,  all  the  rapidity  of  fire  or 
big  bullets  you  can  find  won't  "get  the  bacon" 
although  the  deer  may  go  away  and  die  some- 
where. If  the  thought  that  the  deer  is  most 
likely  dead  anyhow,  whether  you  got  him  or 
not,  pleases  you,  then  by  all  means  use  a 
g^tling  gun  or  better  still,  strychnine ;  but  if 
you  want  to  get  the  game,  and  get  it  in  a 
sportsmanlike  way,  learn  to  shoot.  And  then 
when  you  miss,  as  you  will  sometimes,  give 
the  deer  a  show  and  acknowledge  the  corn. 

The  true  sportsman  in  the  field,  when  the 
quail  or  grouse  are  whirring  up  before  the  dog. 
prefers  the  smallest  gauge  scattergun  that  will 
do  the  work.  Then  when  he  scores  a  neat  shot 
or  makes  a  double  he  knows  that  the  credit  is 
his  own,  that  his  marksmanship  was  the  prime 
factor,  the  gun  being  merely  the  instrument ; 
and  whenever  the  memory  of  his  trips  comes 
to  his  mind,  a  pleasant  thrill  runs  through  his 
nerves  and  he  stops  in  the  midst  of  his  work 
to  mentally  live  that  particular  trip  over  again. 
The  automatic  rifle  or  the  great  smashing 
extreme  high-power  rifles  are  as  much  out  of 
place  for  deer  or  anything  under  the  largest 
and  most  ferocious  game,  as  the  eight  or  ten 
gauge  shotgun  is  for  shooting  quail. 

Coming  down  to  figures,  we  find  that  the 
.32-40  high  power  cartridge  gives  an  initial 
velocity  of  2,000  feet,  a  striking  power  at  fifty 
feet  of  about  1500  foot  pounds,  and  a  free 
recoil  of  five  and  a  half  pounds.  The  .30-30 
gives  a  trifle  less  velocity,  and  a  corresponding 


138 


WESTERN  FIELD 


decrease  in  Milking  power.  The  .25-36,  a 
wonderfully  neat  cartridge,  gives  the 
flat  trajectory  for  a  hunting  cartridge  with 
nearly  2,000  feet  initial  velocity;  but  of  course 
with  the  smaller  117  grain  bullet,  the  strik- 
ing energy  is  cut  down,  registering  about 
1,000  pounds,  with  three  and  a  half  pounds 
free  recoil.  This  cartridge  is  big  enough  for 
any  game  found  in  America  and  too  big  for 
most  of  it.  The  .25-20  cartridge,  probably  the 
nearest  among  modern  ammunition  to  the  old 
Kentucky  rifles  of  the  frontiersmen,  gives  an 
initial  velocity  of  1300  feet  and  a  striking 
energy  of  but  325  foot  pounds — about  one  fifth 
the  power  of  the  .32-40  and  one-eighth  of  the 
striking  energy  of  the  much  vaunted  .405 — yet 
the  daring  frontiersmen  faced  the  terrible  Cali- 
fornia grizzly  with  this  small-powered  muzzle- 
loading  rifle.  What  is  more  to  the  point  they 
got  Mr.  Grizzly  as  the  few  now  left  can  testify, 
although  once  in  a  while  the  tables  were  turned 
and  the  bear  got  the  hunter;  but  this  might 
just  as  well  happen  with  one  of  the  modern 
rifles  if  it  was  not  held  right. 

Taking  the  .405,  we  find  that  cartridge 
giving  an  initial  velocity  of  2150  feet  and  a 
striking  energy  of  3077  foot  pounds.  The  free 
recoil  of  this  pleasant  pop-gun  is  nearly  twenty- 
nine  pounds!  That  is,  the  kick  of  this  rifle 
equals  in  force  the  kick  of  a  heavily  loaded 
12  gauge  shotgun  but  figures  do  not  show  the 
difference  in  the  kind  of  recoil.  A  shotgun 
has  a  slow  recoil,  while  a  rifle — and  especially 
one  of  the  modern  high  power  arms — has  a 
sharp,  painful  kick  that  is  entirely  different 
from  that  of  a  shotgun.  Any  one  who  has 
ever  fired  one  of  the  modern  high-power  rifles 
knows  that  even  the  .30-30  has  a  recoil  that  can 
be  noticed,  although  it  is  not  at  all  annoying 
or  painful.  But  when  you  take  a  recoil  of  six 
times  the  .30-30  you  are  getting  something 
extremely  undesirable.  There  are  a  number  of 
instances  where  the  shooter  has  been  kicked 
off  his  feet  neatly  and  expeditiously  by  the 
recoil  of  this  terrific  arm. 

There  is  absolutely  no  excuse  for  the  exis- 
tence of  such  an  arm.  We  have  no  game  that 
requires  a  blow  of  3077  foot  pounds,  with  a 
bullet  weighing  300  grains  and  traveling  at 
the  velocity  of  2150  feet  per  second.  When  it 
comes  to  using  an  arm  of  this  class  on  a  little 
hundred  and  fifty  pound  deer  with  its  slender 
bones,  well,  as  our  comedian  friends  say,  "It  is 
to  laugh." 


Up  to  a   few  years  ago  there  was  a  strong 

Si  1 1  of  hunters,  mostly  among  the  older  men, 

wlic  swore  by  the  old  .45  with  either  70  or 
90  grains  power.  They  swore  that  no  little  pop- 
gun like  the  .30-30  or  .25-36  could  strike  a 
blow  equal  to  the  big  .45  calibre  bullet,  but 
this  feeling  has  almost  died  away.  Even  the 
most  stubborn  of  this  old  school  have  come  to 
see  the  advantages  of  the  light  rifle  and 
ammunition,  the  flat  trajectory,  the  reduced 
recoil  and  noise  and  lack  of  smoke,  when  with 
all  these  advantages  more  penetration  and 
greater  shocking  power  than  the  .45  is  also 
gained. 

For  the  all  round  rifle,  for  hunting  big 
game,  small  game  and  middle  sized  game ;  for 
target  practice  and  shooting  the  long  suffering 
tin  can;  for  shooting  big  bullets  and  small 
bullets ;  hard  bullets  or  soft  ones ;  long  range 
or  short  range ;  for  rabbits  or  bears,  there  is 
nothing  as  fine  as  the  modern  .32-40  rifle  with 
a  nickel  steel  barrel. 

All  other  rifles  are  made  with  a  quick  twist, 
with  but  one  exception,  among  the  new  high 
power  rifles.  This  precludes  using  lead  bullets 
with  full  charges  of  black  powder  or  low 
pressure  smokeless,  as  the  bullets  will  not  stand 
the  pressure  but  will  "strip"  and  leave  the 
quick  twist  as  though  carrots  were  being  fired 
through  the  rifle  instead  of  bullets.  Hence  the 
"Short  range",  the  "Miniature"  and  other 
various  loads  made  for  the  shooter  of  one  of 
these  arms  with  a  quick  twist  when  he  wants 
to  shoot  his  rifle  at  short  range.  These  short 
range  or  miniature  loads  are  either  a  hard 
lead  bullet  with  just  a  pinch  of  powder  behind 
it,  not  enough  to  cause  it  to  strip  or  else  a 
little  metal-cased  bullet  with  a  reduced  charge 
of  smokeless  powder. 

The  .32-40  is  made  with  a  comparatively 
slow  twist  of  16  inches  as  against  a  twist  of 
12  inches  for  the  .30-30.  This  enables  the 
.32-40  to  handle  anything  from  the  very  softest 
lead  bullets  with  black  powder,  to  the  high 
pressure  loads  with  metal-cased  bullets.  If 
the  hunter  is  a  gun  lover,  as  every  hunter 
should  be,  with  this  rifle  in  possession  he  can 
send  back  to  our  friends,  the  Ideal  people,  get 
a  mold  for  some  one  of  the  excellent  .32-40 
bullets,  reload  his  own  shells  and  get 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  his  rifle  before  he 
ever  leaves  civilization  in  search  of  the  elusive 
buck.  The  shell  of  the  .32-40  cartridge  is 
straight  taper,  has  no  bottle-neck  to  break  off 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


139 


in  the  barrel  and  is  one  of  the  easiest  shells  to 
reload  that  can  be  found. 

This  rifle  comes  nearer  being  the  much 
sought,  "All  round  Rifle"  than  anything  on  the 
market  and  is  steadily  growing  in  popularity. 
This  calibre  in  any  of  the  standard  makes  of 
American  sporting  rifles  will  give  satisfaction, 
but  the  prospective  purchaser  should  make  sure 
that  the  rifle  is  made  with  nickel  steel  barrel. 
One  of  the  big  companies  for  some  unknown 
reason  has  not  seen  fit  to  climb  into  the  band 
wagon  and  makes  some  of  its  .32-40's  with  the 
old  soft  steel  barrel.  This  of  course  will  not 
do  with  high  pressure  cartridges.  This  same 
company  has  seen  fit  to  load  the  .32-40  high 
velocity  cartridges  with  a  load  that  is  inferior 
in  power  to  the  load  used  by  the  other 
cartridge  companies,  probably  on  account  of 
still  using  soft  steel  barrels  on  the  rifles  of 
this  calibre  which  would  not  stand  the  full 
high  pressure  charge.  This  cartridge  as  loaded 
by  this  company,  gives  ample  power  and  is 
perfectly  reliable,  but  will  not  give  the  results 
as  shown  by  the  figures  given  above. 

After  all,  it  makes  very  little  difference  as 
to  the  rifle  as  long  as  the  man  behind  can 
shoot,  but  of  course  if  he  can  he  will  find 
little  occasion  for  using  a  self-acting  squirt 
gun  or  a  cannon  on  his  game.  To  sum  up : 
learn  to  shoot  and  to  shoot  accurately  before 
going  after  the  game.  Learn  your  rifle 
thoroughly.  Get  a  rifle  in  harmony  with  the 
game  you  seek.     If  you  are  after  grizzlies  get 


a  cannon  if  you  wish,  but  you  don't  need  one 
for  deer. 

Once  you  have  learned  to  shoot  with  quick- 
ness and  accuracy  you  will  feel  that  more  than 
one  shot  at  a  deer  at  reasonable  ranges  is 
something  to  be  avoided,  and  you  will  see  no 
necessity  for  pouring  volleys  of  whizzing  lead 
through  the  atmosphere  to  get  one  poor  little 
deer  that  you  could  kill  with  a  club. 

It  may  be  that  some  time  in  the  near  future 
you  and  a  regiment  of  your  countrymen  may 
be  lying  on  the  edge  of  some  bluff,  with  your 
back  to  the  State  you  love  and  your  face  to 
the  Asiatic  foe  landing  on  the  beach  below  you. 
You  will  have  game  before  you  infinitely  more 
dangerous  than  any  grizzly,  and  you  will  offer 
up  a  fervent  prayer  of  thanksgiving  that  you 
learned  to  shoot  and  hit  what  you  shot  at, 
before  the  crucial  time  came. 

It  may  be  that  after  you  do  learn  to  shoot 
and  become  thoroughly  experienced  you  will 
still  feel  that  the  automatic  or  the  large  calibre 
with  its  terrific  force  is  desirable.  In  this 
case  go  and  get  one ;  you  will  undoubtedly 
make  use  of  it  in  a  proper  and  sportsmanlike 
manner,  although  you  will  be  carrying  around 
superfluous  weight  and  tearing  unnecessarily 
large  holes  in  your  game.  As  the  gentleman 
said  when  he  took  a  long  drink  out  of  the 
fire  extinguisher,  "There's  no  accountin'  for 
tastes",  but  don't  start  off  on  the  wrong  foot. 

Smallarms. 


NORTHWEST  DEPARTMENT 


Devoted  to  Sport  in  Washington,  Oregon  and  British  Columbia 


Conducted  by  August  Wolf 


EPUTIES     in     western     Montana   have 
reported  to   Game  Warden   Scott  that 
big  game   is  plentiful   and   increasing, 
though    the    outlook    is    not    as    good 
as     in     former     years     for     chickens, 
grouse     and     sage     hens,     this     being 
due     to     the     late     spring     and     wet 
weather.        Good     duck     shooting     is 
promised  at  Hauser  and  Sewell  lakes, 
also    at    Havre.      The    best    big    game 
shooting    is    said   tj    be    on    the    Flat- 
head   and     Lewis    and     Clark    forest 
reserves,    where    not    enough    hunting    has   been    done 
to  spoil   it.      Among  the  big   game  animals   which   are 
plentiful   are   elk;  black-tail    deer   and   all   varieties   of 


the  bear  family,  from  the  little  brown  and  black  bear 
to   the   grizzly   and   silvertip. 

It  is  not  generally  known  that  moose  are  to  be 
found  in  Montana,  but  the  deputies  reported  their 
presence  in  fair  numbers  on  the  Hell  Gate  river 
in  western  Montana  and  on  the  North  Fork  of  the 
Flathead  in  northwestern  Montana  and  in  the  Yak 
basin,  in  the  same  district.  There  are  also  caribou 
in  the  Yak  basin.  An  idea  of  the  plentifulness  of 
elk  in  the  northwestern  part  of  the  state  may  be 
gained  from  the  fact  that  the  orchardists  are  com- 
plaining that  the  animals  are  destroying  the  fruit 
trees.  The  streams  are  also  full  of  trout  and  other 
game   fish. 


140 


ERN  FIELD 


Former  Governor  Robert  B.  Smith  o!  Sunset,  where 

he    has    a    big    fruit    ranch,    said    in    Spokane    a    few 

be  ■•  three  bucks  in  tin-  . 
SO  yards  from  the  house,  three  weeks  ago.  They 
played  and  leaped  and  romped  with  one  another 
like  children  and  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  the 
governor,  standing  only  a  few  yards  off.  No  damage 
was  done  to  the  trees.  However,  other  fruitgrowers 
have  not  been  so  fortunate,  the  animals  coming  into 
the  orchards  and  rubbing  the  velvet  off  their  horns 
and  the  bark  off  the  trees  at  the  same  time. 

The  open  season  for  deer  in  Oregon  began  July 
15.  The  last  legislature  changed  the  season,  but 
men  who  generally  begin  deer  hunting  as  soon  as  the 
season  opens  are  making  no  plans  to  go  into  the 
mountains  until  early  in  August.  The  outlook  is 
good  for  a  lively  season.  According  to  the  new  law 
the  open  season  for  buck  deer  is  from  July  15  to 
November  1.  It  was  formerly  from  August  15  to 
November  1.  The  season  for  female  deer  is  from 
September  1  to  November  1.  Another  change  in  the 
law  is  that  it  is  now  a  misdemeanor  to  kill  dogs 
cuasing  deer.  It  was  formerly  illegal  to  hunt  deer 
with  dogs  and  that  provision  is  also  contained  in 
the  new  law.  Under  the  old  law  many  dogs  caught 
chasing  deer  were  shot  and  killed  and  the  new 
provision  was  inserted  to  protect  owners  of  valuable 
dogs,  which  would  break  loose  and  chase  deer  with- 
out the  knowledge  of  their  owners. 

Ludwig  Roper,  game  warden  in  northern  Idaho, 
has  issued  914  fishing  and  hunting  licenses  to 
residents  desiring  the  privileges  granted  by  the 
game  laws  of  the  Gem  State,  while  the  total  number 
issued  in  the  city  of  Coeur  d'Alene,  34  miles  east 
of  Spokane,  is  ne;.r  the  2,000  mark,  which  is  an 
increase  of  100  per  cent.  This  shows  'two  things, 
he  says:  first,  that  the  population  has  greatly 
increased;  and  that  there  is  a  wholesome  respect  for 
the  law  compared  with  the  last  twelve  months.  Last 
year  he  arrested  nine  violators  of  the  law,  while 
this  year  there  has  not  been  a  single  arrest.  The 
law  requires  that  all  male  citizens  over  12  years 
of  age,  must  provide  themselves  with  licenses,  which 
entitle  each  holder  to  catch  20  pounds  of  fish  a  day, 
but  limit  the  amount  of  fish  in  his  possession,  at 
any  or.e  time,  to  not  more  than   30  pounds. 

\Y.  H.  Wright,  Spokane's  naturalist  and  big  game 
hunter,  using  cameras  instead  of  rifles  and  fowling 
pieces,  has  gone  into  the  heart  of  the  Bitter  Root 
mountains,  taking  with  him  "Teddy"  Clark,  son  of 
F.  Lewis  Clark,  and  Will  Richards,  son  of  T.  P.  M. 
Richards,  also  William  Casteel,  chef  of  the  camp. 
He  was  joined  at  Hamilton,  Mont.,  by  George  Gale 
and  Edgar  Thompson  of  New  York,  while  Frank 
Overturff  of  Darby,  Mont.,  met  the  party  on  the 
Lost  Horse  trail.  Camp  has  been  established  on 
Twin  lakes  and  the  party  will  pass  three  months 
in  the  wilds  between  the  south  and  middle  forks  of 
the  Clearwater  river.  At  the  close  of  the  camp,  Mr. 
Wright  will  leturn  to  Spokane  to  meet  Dr.  Alexander 
Lambert  of  New  York,  friend  of  President  Roosevelt, 
who  will  pass  two  weeks  in  the  Northwest  wilds 
studying    animal    life. 

While  prospecting  in  the  Bitter  Root  mountains, 
near   Mullan,   Ida.,   Charles   M.   Delgrove  and   William 


Davis,  living  at  1325  Broadway,  Spokane,  were 
treed  by  a  big  cinnamon  bear,  recently,  and  were 
forced  to  remain  perched  in  the  limbs  more  than 
14  hours.  The  men  were  not  armed,  having  dropped 
their  picks  in  fleeing  from  Mrs.  Bruin  and  her 
cubs.  This  is  Mr.  Davis'  version  of  the  flight 
and    tree-shinning   experience: 

"I  don't  want  another  experience  like  that,  nor  do  1 
believe  Delgrove  would  care  to  put  in  another  such 
a  day.  We  thought  our  time  had  come  sure  enough. 
We  had  nothing  but  picks  when  we  came  upon  the 
bear  in  the  gulch,  and  I  guess  if  the  tree  hadn't  been 
nearby  some  one  else  would  be  telling  about  what 
happened.  We  made  for  camp  after  the  bear  and 
her  cubs  left  and  hunted  for  her  the  next  day,  but 
didn't  see  hide  or  hair.  The  trip  was  profitable, 
though,  as  we  located  a  number  of  mining  claims 
and  we're  going  back  to  develop  them  some  time 
this    year." 

Owners  of  live  stock  ranging  in  the  Madison 
valley  in  Montana,  east  of  Spokane,  are  elated  over 
the  prospect  of  the  passing  of  the  wolf  pest.  These 
animals  have  caused  considerable  loss  during  the 
last  few  years,  and  despite  the  efforts  of  the  owners 
the  wolves  are  increasing  in  numbers  in  the  mountains, 
from  which  they  are  driven  in  cold  weather  to  prey 
upon  live  stock.  W.  K.  Selover,  a  hunter  and  trap- 
per from  the  Beaverhead  country,  armed  with  two 
Russian  stag  hounds  and  100  steel  bear  and  wolf 
traps,  has  struck  the  trail  and  will  pass  several 
months  trapping  wolves  in  the  upper  Madison  country. 
He  says  that  the  special  bounty  now  being  offered 
for  wolf  scalps  by  the  state  makes  it  worth  while 
to  attempt  their  capture. 

Capt.  John  McA.  Webster,  Agent  of  the  Colville 
Indian  reservation,  north  of  Spokane,  has  made  an 
order  to  the  effect  that  no  white  hunters  will  be 
allowed  privileges  on  the  reservation  this  year.  This 
order  is  the  result  of  "game  hog'  operators  on  the 
reservation  in  the  past.  Large  parties  of  duck 
hunters  from  other  parts  would  spend  a  few  days 
along  the  various  lakes  of  the  reservation  and  go 
away  leaving  hundreds  of  dead  ducks  to  decay  on 
the  prairies  and  shore  of  the  lakes.  Captain  Webster's 
attention  was  brought  to  this  and  he  accordingly 
issued  orders  which  will  put  a  stop  to  hunting  except 
by  the  Indians. 

Federal  and  State  authorities  have  clashed  over 
the  question  of  authority  on  the  Nez  Perces  Indian 
timber  reserve  in  Idaho,  south  of  Spokane,  and 
resulted  in  the  arrest  of  Indian  Agent  Lipps  by 
Mr.  Harbaugh,  deputy  state  Game  Warden,  the 
charge  being  dumping  sawdust  into  a  trout  stream. 
The  case  will  be  tried  sometime  in  August.  Lipps 
is  custodian  of  an  Indian  sawmill  in  the  Craig 
Mountain  district,  and  for  years  the  sawdust  has 
been  deposited  in  a  creek  channel  tributary  of  Big 
Canyon  creek,  one  of  the  best  trout  streams  in 
central  Idaho.  The  creek  is  dry  part  of  the  summer, 
but  during  the  freshet  season  the  sawdust  is  carried 
into  the  creek  and  deposited  along  the  banks  for  a 
distance  of  eight  miles  below  the  point  of  con- 
fluence of  the  two  streams.  The  creek  is  outside  the 
boundaries  of  the  reserve,  and  it  is  upon  this  position 
the  conviction  of  the  Indian  agent  is  expected,  regard- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZIXE 


141 


less  ot  the  question  of  authority  within  the 
The  state  fish  and  game  laws  provide  a  severe 
penalty  for  any  person  depositing  or  allowing  to  be 
deposited  sawdust  or  other  deleterious  matter  in 
such  places  as  will  permit  it  to  be  carried  into  a 
trout  stream,  and  several  convictions  of  mill  men  have 
been  secured  where  circumstances  are  identical  with 
those   at  the   Indian   mill. 

Harry  Cortiwall  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  was  one  of  a 
party  of  10  sportsmen  landing  the  prizes  for  the 
biggest  catches  of  land-locked  salmon  and  rainbow 
trout  on  Kootenai  lake,  off  Kaslo,  B.  C,  north  of 
Spokane.  Mr.  Cornwall,  this  season  caught  a  fish 
measuring  34  inches  and  weighing  19^2  pounds.  The 
party  was  composed  of  A.  F.  McLean  of  Tacoma, 
Harry  Cornwall  of  Hartford,  Dr.  J.  Armstrong  of 
Tacoma,  Perry  W.  Lawrence  of  Pullman,  Wash.,  Dr. 
B.  \Y.  McPhee  and  James  Cairnes  of  Colfax,  Wash., 
Aaron  and  Dolph  Coolidge,  John  Hunner  and  Charles 
G.  Mihills  of  Spokane.  The  fishermen  used  500 
foot  light  lines  with  8-ounce  bamboo  poles,  trolling 
with  spoons.  Mr.  Cornwall  said  of  the  outing  on 
his  return  to  Spokane: 

"It  was  the  finest  sport  imaginable.  I  have 
whipped  all  sorts  of  lakes  and  streams,  but  I  have 
never  had  such  genuine  sport  as  on  this  trip.  The 
tackle  we  used  rave  the  game  plenty  of  play  on  the 
line  and  it  frequently  lequired  from  20  minutes  to 
an  hour  to  lend  the  big  fellows,  which  are  plentiful 
this    season." 

Sportsmen  visiting  the  "swiftwater"  on  the  upper 
St.  Joe  river,  east  of  Spokane,  this  season  report 
exceptionally  fine  fishing.  The  St.  Joe  river  extends 
back  into  the  mountains  from  the  head  of  navigation 
at  St.  Joe  nearly  100  miles,  and  is  traversed  in  long 
swiftwater  boats  paddled  or  poled  by  experienced 
boatmen.  Fred  Lockley,  W.  F.  Coleman,  and  F. 
Hurst,  T.  W.  Tolman  and  Charles  E.  Flagg  returning 
from  a  trip  to  "swiftwater"  report  an  exciting  out- 
ing. They  ascended  the  river  nearly  30  miles,  camp- 
ing whenever  night  overtook  them.  Trout  furnished 
good  sport.  Fishing  at  Albany  Falls  on  the  Pend 
d'  Oreille  river  is  also  good.  A  party  headed  by  W. 
S.  McCaully  of  Spokane,  caught  50  pounds  of  Dolly 
Varden  and  cut-throat  trout  a  few  days  ago,  the 
largest  measuied  33  1-4  inches  and  weighed  13  pounds 
dressed,  others  ranging  from  five  to  eight  pounds. 

The  new  fish  hatchery  recently  established  under 
the  direction  of  the  state  superintendent  at  Walla 
Walla,  southwest  of  Spokane,  is  in  operation.  More 
than  100,000  young  cut-throat  trout  have  been  hatched 
and  will  be  ready  to  put  out  in  two  or  three  weeks. 
The  fish  are  an  inch  in  length  and  are  strong  and 
active.  The  capacity  of  the  plant  is  sufficient  to 
produce  1,000,000  at  one  hatching,  but  owing  to  the 
lateness  in  the  season,  it  was  impossible  to  procure 
more  eggs  at  this  time.  Officer  Ben  Wolf  has  charge 
of  the  plant  located  on  Mill  creek,  where  an  abund- 
ance of  pure  water  is  available  at  all  times. 

Fifty  dollais  and  costs  was  assessed  by  Justice 
George  W.  Stocker  of  Spokane,  against  W.  H.  Benn 
and  J.  A.  Butler  after  they  pleaded  guilty  to  the 
charge  of  dynamiting  fish  in  the  Spokane  river  near 
Nine  Mile  bridge.  The  arrest  was  made  by  Deputy 
Sheriff    S.    D.    Doak   on   complaint   of   Game   Warden 


J.  A.  Uhlig.  The  men  are  employed  on  the  con- 
struction work  of  the  big  dam  at  Nine  Mile  bridge. 
As  this  was  their  first  offense  the  court  let  them  off 
with  the  minimum  fine.  They  killed  hundreds  of  fish, 
however,  firing  blasts  after  being  warned,  and  no 
effort  was  made  to  gather  them. 

Ten  thousand  small  brook  trout,  from  the  government 
fish  hatchery  at  Oregon  City,  Ore.,  were  liberated  by 
C.  M.  Evans,  at  the  head  of  Asotin  creek,  south  of 
Spokane,  with  the  view  of  restocking  the  stream.  The 
trout  were  carried  most  of  the  way  on  horseback 
across  a  rough  mountainous  country,  but  they  arrived 
in  good  condition,  as  they  were  shipped  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  long  trip  could  do  them  no  injury. 
Although  Asotin  creek  is  already  famed  for  excellent 
trout  fishing,  the  government  commission  is  striving 
to  keep  the  stream  well  stocked. 

Commissioners  of  Stevens  county,  Wash.,  north  of 
Spokane,  have  purchased  with  money  from  the  game 
fund,  several  dozens  of  English  pheasant  eggs,  and 
will  distribute  them  among  poultry  raisers  in  an 
effort  to  get  them  hatched  and  a  start  of  this 
popular  game  bird  established  locally.  The  birds  will 
be  protected  by  law  until  they  have  become  firmly 
established  in  this  region. 

Fish  Commissioner  Drew  was  in  Spokane  recently 
and  left  3,000,000  srawn  at  the  Little  River  hatchery. 
The  last  legislature  appropriated  $6,000  for  stocking 
the  streams  in  Spokane  with  fish  and  the  amount  was 
secured  only  after  a  hard  fight  by  the  Spokane  county 
delegation. 

Spokane  Chamber  of  Commerce  has  contributed 
$250  to  the  fund  to  be  used  as  purse  money  at  the 
big  Pacific  Coast  handicap  shoot  in  Spokane  September 
10,  11  and  12.  More  than  $1,500  in  prizes  will  be 
distributed.  At  the  last  meeting  of  the  Spokane  Rod 
and  Gun  club  a  soliciting  committee,  consisting  of 
Dr.  T.  H.  White,  F.  K.  McBroom,  J.  W.  Merritt, 
Paul  Shellenbarger  and  I.  Dornberg  was  appointed. 
The  Washington  Water  Power  company  has  donated 
the  use  of  the  Natatorium  Park  ball  grounds  for  the 
shoot,  and  it  is  expected  to  have  experts  from  all 
parts  of  the  country. 

Bagging  five  of  the  16  big  bears  killed  by  the 
party,  held  for  weeks  by  snow  blockades  in  the  wilds 
and  living  from  June  1  until  July  8  on  game  meat, 
bread  made  from  coarse  flour  and  snow-water  and 
berries  are  a  few  of  the  experiences  of  Mrs.  T.  A. 
Ireland  of  Colfax,  Wash.,  south  of  Spokane,  who 
has  just  returned  with  her  husband  and  Perry  Bill- 
ups  from  an  11-month's  prospecting  and  trapping 
expedition  in  the  wilds  of  the  Sawtooth  mountains 
near  the  Montana  line  in  northern  Idaho.  The 
party  took  furs  of  marten,  mink,  otter,  lynx,  cougar 
and  bear,  killing  also  elk  to  supply  meat  for  the  camp. 

The  party  left  Spokane,  August  1,  1906  going  to 
Greer,  Idaho.,  by  train  from  which  point  they  went 
on  horseback,  with  pack  animals  to  carry  the 
utensils  and  provisions,  to  a  camp  which  had  been 
previously  prepared  at  a  place  on  the  Clearwater, 
140  miles  from  Greer,  over  the  Lolo  trail.  They 
arrived  at  the  camp.  August  26,  and  prospected  and 
hunted  with  varying  success  until  the  first  snow- 
fall.     Carefully    tabulated    records     of     the     snowfall 


142 


WESTERN  FIELD 


showed  ;t  total  depth  <>f  i;  feet,  but  the  greatest 
depth  at  any  one  time  was  five  feet.  There  was 
no  thermometer  in  their  equipment,  hut  Mr.  Ireland 
taya  be  does  not  believe  it  got  below  zero  at  any 
time. 

During  the  snow  period  the  time  was  devoted 
ping,  and  the  result  is  $2,000  worth  of  furs. 
aw  no  signs  of  human  beings  from  October  3 
until  their  arrival  at  Musselshell  July  8.  The  last 
persons  seen  were  Game  Warden  West  and  a  com- 
panion, who  stayed  at  the  camp  for  several  days  and 
left  on  foot  for  Greer  October  3.  Mr.  Ireland  sent 
his  horses  back  to  Greer  immediately  after  his  arrival 
in  camp. 

The  Ireland  camp  was  located  25  miles  south  of  the 
trapping  place  of  "Beaver  Jack."  Ullrich  who  is 
believed  to  have  perished  during  the  winter.  Mr. 
Ireland  met  some  of  the  parties  who  had  been  into 
the  missing  man's  trapping  grounds  in  search  of 
him.  They  told  him  they  had  visited  his  cabin  and 
found  it  supplied  with  provisions,  but  could  find  no 
clue  to   the  missing  trapper. 

They  found  his  lifle  and  a  quantity  of  elk  meat 
in  the  cabin,  and  followed  his  tracks  over  the  hard 
snow  five  miles,  where  they  discovered  a  cane,  which 
he  carried,  sticking  in  a  snowdrift  20  feet  deep.  Their 
opinion  is  that  the  trapper  either  was  caught  in  a 
slide,  fell  through  a  crevasse  in  the  deep  snow  or  was 
attacked     and     killed     by     wild    animals.       The     party 


intends  to  renew  the  search.  Another  trapper  from 
Montana,  who  had  a  camp  established  30  miles  south 
of  them,  is  also  missing,  and  is  believed  to  have  met 
the  same  fate  as  Heaver  Jack. 

During     May     Mr.     Ireland's     party    killed     15     big 

bears,  one  of  which  was  a  grizzly  measuring   11    feet 

2    inches    in    length    and    11    feet    6    inches    from    daw 

Five   of   these  animals   were  killed   by   Mrs. 

Ireland. 

Mr.  Ireland  had  made  arrangements  with  friends 
in  Colfax  to  send  horses  and  provisions  into  their 
camp  by  June  1,  and  a  man  was  dispatched  on  the 
trip,  but  got  no  farther  than  Musselshell,  where  he 
abandoned  the  journey,  owing  to  the  deep  snows  in 
the    mountains. 

They  waited  for  the  coming  relief  until  their 
provisions  ran  so  low  that  they  were  compelled  to 
make  the  trip  on  foot.  From  June  1,  until  they 
reached  Greer,  July  8,  they  subsisted  on  wild  meat 
with  no  salt  or  pepper,  bread  made  from  flour  and 
water,  and  what  few  wild  berries  they  could  find. 
They  made  the  trip  from  the  camp  to  Musselshell  in 
six  days.  One  hundred  and  ten  miles  of  the  distance 
was  over  snow  from  three  to  20  feet  deep.  It  was 
packed  hard,  however,  and  they  made  better  time 
there  than  they  did  after  striking  the  open  trail.  Mrs. 
Ireland,  who  is  slight,  weighing  120  pounds,  stood 
the  trip  better  than  did  her  husband  or  Mr.  Eillups. 
and   she   is   enthusiastic   over  her   experience. 


CLOUDLAND 

THE  sky  above's  an  ocean  blue, 
With    many    a    white-cliff'd    isle. 
And    mys*ic,    shadow    continents 
That    raise    their    dim    profile 
In  tumbled  hills  of  high-piled  snow 
For  many  a  glistening  mile. 

Ah,  could   I   leave   this   dull-hued  earth, 

Those  pleasant   seas  to  sail, 
Where  swooping  squadrons  come  and  go 

Upon   the   bracing   gale, 
I'd    journey    up    yon    inlet    blue 
Beyond  that  headland   pale. 
And  there   I'd   have  a  palace    fair 

All   built   of   marble   white — 
The  larks  would  be  my  minstrels,  and 

Would    sing    for    my    delight — 
The   sun   would   greet   me   first   at   dawn, 
And    wave    me    last,    "Good-night." 

There  I'd  be  rich,   for  I  would  own 

The   opalescent   sea; 
The    diamond-dusted    Milky    Way, 

A    shimm'ring    canopy; 
The   sunbeam's  bars   of  virgin   gold — 
And   all   this   wealth   for   me! 
See  how  the  sunset  gilds  the  peaks, 

With    dainty    magic    hand; 
And    paints    with    scintillating    tint 
Those   pinkened   portals    grand — 
Ah!    could   I   tarry    there   awhile! 
"Tis   surely    fairyland. 

—Roy   Brazel   Miller. 


TYPES   OF   ENGLISH   SETTERS 


INCE  the  organization  in  the 
East  of  the  new  English  Setter 
Club,  and  its  promulgation  of  a 
new  setter  standard,  there  has 
arisen  a  good  deal  of  discussion 
regarding  what  has  been,  is,  and 
should  be  the  proper  type  of 
that  popular  breed.  Some  of 
the  articles  published  are  very 
good  in  a  historical  way ;  some 
contain  valuable  suggestions  for  the  student 
of  the  breed ;  some  are  written  very  evidently 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  fitting  a  standard  to  a 
certain  strain  of  dogs,  while  others  are  only 
amusing  in  their  misleading  theories  and  un- 
pardonable inaccuracies.  These  discussions 
are  by  no  means  new.  We  have  had  them  at 
regular  intervals  for  the  last  twenty-five  years 
or  more,  until  it  seems  that  every  point  has 
been  aired  from  the  foundation  of  Llewellin's 
kennels  down  to  the  criticisms  of  the  English 
Setter  Club's  late  show.  Clubs  to  "improve 
the  breed"  have  been  formed  from  time  to 
time,  and  new  standards  evolved  with  the 
same  purpose  in  view,  but  after  all  that  has 
been  attempted  in  this  line,  the  true  English 
setter  is  yet  the  same  beautiful,  keen-working, 
level-headed,  all-day  dog  it  was  when  Thomas 
Staffer,  Barclay  Field  and  Purcell  Llewellin 
began  mixing  the  South  Esk,  Beaudezart  and 
Laverack  strains  together.  If  the  pictures  of 
old  Dan,  by  Fields  Duke  out  of  Statters 
Rhoebe — a  mixture  of  two  of  these  strains, 
and  of  Llewellin's  old  Countess — a  pure 
Laverack — are  reasonably  true  to  life,  no  one 
today  need  ask  for  better  made  field  dogs 
than  either  of  them,  nor  a  more  perfect  show 
bitch  than  old  Countess.  And,  notwithstand- 
ing the  great  beauty  of  this  bitch,  and  the 
assertion  of  a  recent  writer  that  she  was 
erratic  in  her  field  work  and  could  not  be 
relied   upon,   she   left   behind   her   a   field   trial 


record  that  has  never  been  equaled ;  for  she 
won  eleven  trials  out  of  twelve  entries,  sub- 
sequently beating  the  same  dog  that  defeated 
her  the  only  time  she  was  ever  beaten.  But 
our  field  trial  friends,  who  have  gone  wild 
over  this  "class"  nonsense,  will  tell  us  that 
she  had  neither  speed  nor  range.  This  is 
most  likely  true,  for  in  the  small  fields  where 
the  English  trials  were  run  neither  great  range 
nor  speed  were  necessary,  and  dogs  were 
broken  to  work  to  the  gun,  instead  of  to  give 
an  exhibition  of  how  far  they  could  get  away 
from  their  handlers  and  how  little  attention 
they  could  pay  to  their  whistle.  But  if  the 
pictures  of  old  Countess  are  correct,  she  was 
built  for  extreme  speed  and  wonderful  endur- 
ance, and  had  she  lived  in  the  present  day, 
and  been  placed  in  the  hands  of  one  of  our 
"class"  crazed  field  trial  men  she  would  have 
been  fully  as  wild  as  the  most  "classy"  of  our 
present  day  winners. 

Dan  and  Countess  were  not  of  the  same  type, 
though  they  had  many  points  in  common. 
Both  were  remarkably  good  in  the  shoulders 
and  in  depth  of  chest,  and  both  were  good  in 
legs.  Countess  was  the  better  in  length  of  body 
and  a  bit  the  best  in  hips.  In  head — that 
typical  characteristic  of  the  true  English 
setter — and  in  clearness  of  neck  she  was  also 
much  better  than  Dan.  Countess,  also,  had 
better  length  of  body,  and  must  have  moved 
with  a  long,  easy  gallop.  Among  the  early 
importations  —  even  though  Llewellin  says 
he  only  sent  us  his  culls — Drake,  by  the 
Laverack  Prince  out  of  a  sister  of  Dan,  was  a 
fine  type  of  the  true  English  setter.  His 
shoulders  sloped  well  back,  and  with  his  long 
hips  they  gave  him  a  short  back  with  that 
very  desirable  accompaniment,  a  long  body 
from  the  point  of  the  shoulder  to  the  whirl-, 
bone  below  the  root  of  the  tail.  He  was  strong 
in  the  stifles  and  well  bent  in  the  hocks.    His 


144 


WESTERN  FIELD 


main  fault  was  a  lack  in  depth  of  th 
Count  Noble  was  remarkable  for  his  great 
length  from  the  point  of  shoulder  to  the 
whirlbone,  yet  his  shoulders  sloped  back  so 
well  and  li i s  hips  were  so  long  that  his  back 
from  coupling  to  top  of  shoulder  blades  was 
one  of  the  shortest.  It  was  this  formation 
that  accounted  for  his  wonderful  endurance 
and  case  of  going. 

These  were  all  English  setters,  bred  in 
England,  and  all  better  in  one  essential  point 
than  the  English  (Stonehenge)  standard. 
That  is,  they  were  all  comparatively  upright 
in  the  humerus  bone,  bringing  the  elbow  well 
down  and  forward ;  thus  forcing  it  from  the 
chest. 

The  Stonehenge  standard  in  requiring  the 
elbow  to  be  carried  well  back  under  the  dog, 
placed  the  humerus  bone  in  such  position 
that  when  the  feet  were  carried  back  in  the 
gallop  the  elbows  were  driven  against  the  ribs 
with  sufficient  force  to  effect  the  dog's  wind, 
unless  he  was  "slab-sided,"  or  without  spring 
of  ribs  back  of  the  shoulders.  Another  great 
mistake,  not  only  in  the  Stonehenge,  but  in 
all  other  standards  that  I  have  seen,  is  that 
requiring  "good  depth  of  last  ribs".  There 
must  be  room  for  the  stifles  when  they  are 
thrown  forward  in  the  long  reaches  of  a 
rapid  gallop,  and  with  the  last  ribs  deep  there 
is  not  the  room  to  bring  them  sufficiently  for- 
ward to  produce  a  long  easy  gait. 

It  is  long  last  ribs,  with  too  short  coupl- 
ings that  are  making  most  of  our  present 
field  trial  dogs  short  gaited  and  with  an  up 
and  down  action  instead  of  a  long  easy  gallop 
that  don't  wear  the  dog  out  by  the  end  of 
an  hour's  heat. 

Between  the  bench  show  men  on  the  one 
side  and  the  fads  of  the  field  trial  men  on 
the  other,  the  English  setter  is  very  rapidly 
deteriorating.  This  may  sound  like  a  strange 
statement  to  come  from  a  pronounced  setter 
man,  but  long  experience,  both  with  the  shows 
and  the  trials,  compels  me  to  acknowledge  a 
deplorable  fact.  I  am  aware  that  in  making 
this  statement  that  all  those  who  are  suffer- 
ing the  infliction  of  that  now  prevalent 
disease,  class-omania,  will  at  once  dispute  the 
assertion,  and  cry  in  one  long,  resonant  chorus, 
"We  never  had  such  'classy'  dogs  as  today." 
But  the  so-called  "classy"  dog  of  the  present 
day  is  nothing  more  than  a  degenerate.  The 
brains,    the   native   bird-sense,    the   immovable 


staunchness,  the  splendid  nose,  the  level- 
headed judgment  and  wonderful  power  of 
endurance  has  been  largely  bred  out  of  him, 
in  the  craze  to  develop  his  legs.  The  craze 
for  speed,  coupled  with  excessive  interbreed- 
ing, has  made  him  nervous,  excitable  and  weak. 
If  he  does  not  fall  by  the  wayside  before  his 
training  ( ?)  is  completed  he  is  pronounced 
"classy",  is  fast  in  getting  over  the  country 
for  the  first  hour,  but  at  the  end  of  that  time 
or  but  little  more  he  is  about  all  in.  His 
great-grandsire  was  not  so  fast  for  the  first 
hour,  but  in  the  day's  work  he  would  cover 
leagues  where  his  descendant  covers  but  miles. 

Those  bred  for  the  show-  bench  are  de- 
generates also.  This  is  not  the  result  of  any 
fad  on  the  part  of  the  breeders,  but  it  is 
purely  the  result  of  incompetency  on  the  part 
of  the  judges.  Or,  it  may  be  laid  to  the  show 
committees  for  engaging  terrier  and  toy-dog 
judges  to  award  the  prizes  to  breeds  of  whose 
uses  they  had  not  the  faintest  conception.  All 
kinds  of  dogs  were  placed  to  the  front,  and 
therefore  all  kinds  of  dogs  were  bred  to,  with 
the  consequence  that  we  bred  away  from  the 
true  type  instead  of  breeding  for  it. 

As  an  illustration  of  the  degeneracy  of 
even  our  show  dogs,  and  the  variety  of  types 
they  have  degenerated  into,  I  refer  to  our  pre- 
vious illustration  of  four  prominent  winners 
from  the  last  San  Francisco  show,  and  these 
are  as  good  as  the  average  shown  any  place 
in  America.  In  fact  if  we  are  to  judge  from 
half  a  dozen  prominent  winners  from  the  East 
shown  here  two  and  three  years  ago,  the  ones 
shown  in  the  plate  are  much  better  than  the 
average.  For  some  reason  best  known  to 
themselves  the  terrier  and  toy-dog  judges  con- 
ceived the  idea  a  couple  of  decades  ago  that  the 
English  setter  was  a  coarse,  heavy  dog,  built 
somewhat  on  the  lines  of  a  carthorse,  and 
began  placing  such  dogs  to  the  front,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  field  trial  type  of  southern 
dog  which  was  already  showing  the  results 
of  excessive  interbreeding  even  in  those  days. 
Thus  was  foisted  on  the  public  a  bench  show 
type  and  a  field  trial  type  entirely  dissimilar, 
and  one  just  as  far  away  from  the  true  type 
of  English  setter  as  the  other.  The  admirers 
of  this  beautiful  dog  at  once  became  divided 
into  two  hostile  camps,  the  one  breeding  for 
the  heavy  imagination  of  the  toy-dog  judge, 
and  the  other  for  the  inbred  racing  machine 
of  the  southern  field  trials,  and  the  real  Eng- 
lish setter  was  lost  sight  of. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


145 


Then  an  English  setter  club  was  organized 
for  the  purpose  of  "improving  the  breed," 
and  a  new  standard  promulgated  for  the  use 
of  bench  show  judges.  This  standard  was 
supposed  to  be  a  kind  of  harmonizing  com- 
promise between  the  two  extremes.  But  when 
the  same  men  who  formulated  the  new 
standard  were  called  upon  to  judge  by  it,  no 
two  of  them  could  agree  as  to  the  kind  of 
dog  that  fitted  it.  In  recent  years,  the  big 
heavy  dogs  having  mostly  disappeared,  the 
judges  have  taken  a  new  tack  and  throwing 
all  type  to  the  winds  are  judging  on  what 
they  are  pleased  to  call,  form,  and  in  select- 
ing their  firsts,  seconds  and  thirds  are  pretty 
sure  to  get  three  types  of  dogs  for  the  three 
places.  In  explanation  of  this  haphazard 
guessing,  they  will  answer :  "Well,  he  stands 
better  in  front,"  or  "He's  better  in  legs",  or 
some  similar  reason  for  not  being  honest  and 
stating  that  they  really  didn't  know  what  the 
proper  type  of  an  English  setter  is.  This,  by 
way  of  illustration,  may  be  putting  it  a  little 
hard,  but  it  is  too  near  the  truth  for  the  good 
of  the  dog,  and  is  an  important  element  in 
his  rapid  degeneration. 

Every  man  with  the  true  instinct  of  the 
sportsman  in  his  heart  must  feel  the  exhilarat- 
ing influence  of  a  brilliant  working  dog  on 
game.  It  is  this  that  makes  the  sport  of  our 
field  trials  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  of  all 
pastimes.  A  dog  to  be  really  brilliant  must 
be  keen,  positive,  qnick  and  intensly  interested 
in  his  work.  He  must  be  fast,  range  out 
well  and  search  diligently  for  his  game.  These 
are  the  qualities  we  admire  and  strive  to  obtain 
through  careful  selection  in  breeding.  But 
the  sportsman  is  a  fadist.  Fie  is  invariably 
partial  to  one  make  of  gun,  one  brand  of 
powder,  one  breed  of  bird  dog.  In  our  dis- 
position to  nurse  these  fads  of  ours  we  very 
often  go  to  such  extremes  as  to  be  really 
amusing  to  those  who  have  other  fads  just 
as  bad  as  ours,  but  who  do  not  happen  to  have 
our  particular  fad.  The  fad  for  fast,  wide 
range  in  the  bird  dog,  which  originally  meant 
the  diligent  covering  of  his  ground  and  care- 
ful searching  of  such  places  as  birds  were 
likely  to  be  found,  in  as  rapid  a  manner  as 
\v;is  consistent  with  thoroughness,  has,  in 
the  minds  of  the  latter  generation  of  field 
trial  men,  been  nursed  to  a  ridiculous  ex- 
treme. This  fad  for  so-called  "class"  is 
causing  a  degeneration  in  the  other  branch 
of  the  family. 


Once  and  a  while  one  or  two  of  a  litter  of 
puppies  revert  back  to  their  good  old  ancestors 
and  a  fairly  good  approach  to  the  true  type  of 
English  setter  is  had.  But  these  good  ones 
are  few  and  growing  scarcer  every  year.  The 
great  majority  are  apple-headed,  short-muz- 
zled, and  snipy.  They  are  short-bodied  and 
long-legged.  They  have  lost  their  beautiful 
coat,  and  the  graceful  sickle  tail  has  been  dis- 
placed by  the  curled  tail  of  the  common  cur. 
But  looks  is  not  all  they  have  lost  in  gaining 
"class".  They  have  lost  the  characteristic 
bird  sense,  the  lovable,  disposition,  the  level- 
headed judgment  and  all-day  endurance  of 
their  ancestors,  and  gained  instead  a  short 
hippity-hop  gait  that  looks  very  fast,  nervous 
excitability  and  a  disposition  to  get  as  far 
away  as  possible  in  a  wild  run  over  the 
country  irrespective  of  the  localities  where 
birds  are  likely  to  be  found.  In  other  words 
they  have  gained  "class",  which  may  well  be 
interpreted  as  a  shorter  word  for  degeneracy. 
And  now  to  make  matters  worse  a  recent 
writer  in  the  American  Field  says,  that  the 
field  trial  men  are  breeding  for  upright  shoul- 
ders, as  they  have  found  by  long  experience 
that  that  formation  is  more  conducive  to  speed 
than  the  sloping  shoulder.  But  in  this  he  is 
wrong  through  confounding  the  humerus  bone, 
or  that  bone  between  the  shoulder  joint  and 
the  elbow,  with  the  shoulder  blade,  or  what 
is  always  referred  to  as  the  shoulder  of  an 
animal.  As  I  have  already  stated  the  Stone- 
henge  standard  is  at  fault  in  requiring  the 
elbow  to  be  brought  well  under  the  dog.  That 
is  the  build  of  the  cow,  and  the  slower  breeds 
of  dogs.  Greyhounds,  pointers  and  setters 
require  the  formation  in  this  respect  of  the 
horse,  that  is  the  roadster.  Take  the  skeleton 
of  a  good  typical  setter  and  compare  it  with 
that  of  a  good  roadster  and  they  will  be  found 
to  be  very  similar  in  the  relative  position  of 
the  bones  of  locomotion.  The  shoulder  blades 
of  both  will  be  found  to  slope  well  back,  lying 
at  an  angle  of  from  twenty-eight  to  thirty- 
two  degrees  from  the  perpendicular.  The 
humerus  bone,  connecting  the  shoulder  with 
the  elbow  will  be  found  to  be  short  and  located 
at  an  angle  of  from  seventeen  to  twenty-two 
degrees  from  the  perpendicular,  and  forming 
an  obtuse  angle  with  the  shoulder  blade  of 
from  one  hundred  and  twenty  to  one  hundred 
and  thirty  degrees.  The  greyhound  will  be 
found  with  the  shorter  and  more  perpendicular 
humerus,  surpassing  the  horse  in  this  respect, 


M 


WESTERN  FIELD 


and  the  better  the  setter  or  pointer  the  nearer 
he  will  approach   the  horse      The  angle  of  the 

shoulder  will  vary  but  little  in  good  ipi 

oi  either  of  these  animals  Another  similarity 
will  be  seen  between  the  good  dog  and  the 
good  horse;  that  is  in  the  relative  positions  of 
the  femur  bone,  connecting  the  hip  with  the 
stifle,  and  the  lower  leg  bone,  connecting  the 
hock  and  the  pastern.  These  bones  in 
either  animal,  when  standing  straight  upon 
the  leg,  will  be  found  to  be  nearly  parallel 
with  each  other,  the  angle  of  the  femur  being 
about  twenty-five  degrees  while  that  of  the 
shank  is  about  fifteen.  In  the  draft  horse 
and  the  slower  breeds  of  dogs  these  bones 
will  be  found  to  vary  from  being  parallel  as 
much  as  thirty-five  to  forty  degrees 

There  is  no  animal  more  symmetrical  in 
build  than  a  clean  built,  well  made  roadster. 
Now  let  us  compare  the  relative  measure- 
ments of  the  roadster  and  a  typical  English 
setter.  The  comparative  difference  between 
the  height  at  the  top  of  the  shoulder  blade 
and  at  the  hips  is  the  same  in  both  animals. 
The  slope  of  the  shoulder  blades  is  the  same. 
The  angle  of  the  humerus  bone  is  the  same. 
The  relative  position  of  the  femur  and  the 
shank  is  the  same.  In  both,  the  elbow  is  fully 
as  low  as  the  bottom  of  the  chest.  The  dis- 
tance of  the  elbow  from  the  ground  is  nearly 
one  half  the  height  of  both  animals.  And 
lastly  the  distance  from  the  top  of  the 
shoulder  blade  to  the  front  of  the  hips  is 
closely  to  one-half  the  length  from  the  point 
of  the  shoulder  to  the  whirlbone. 

Of  Countess  Xoble,  an  acknowledged  typical 
English  setter  of  rare  beauty  and  rare  ability 
in  the  field,  a  few  measurements,  taken  before 
her  death,  are  given  by  way  of  illustration. 
Height  at  shoulders,  21 14  inches;  height  at 
hips,  21  inches;  elbows  to  the  ground,  11 
inches;  point  of  shoulder  to  ground,  15J4 
inches.  Distance  from  top  of  shoulder  blade 
to  front  of  hips,  12J4  inches ;  distance  from 
point  of  shoulder  to  whirlbone,  24  inches. 
Angle  of  slope  of  shoulders  32  degrees ;  angle 
of  humerus  bone  18  degrees.  This  bitch  as  a 
puppy  was  remarkably  fast,  and  could  come 
nearer  catching  a  jackrabbit  than  any  dog 
except  a  greyhound  I  have  ever  seen  chase 
one.  She  received  her  training  in  all-day 
hunts,  in  which  she  was  given  from  six  to 
eight  hours  steady  work.  On  one  trip  into 
Lower  California  beginning  when  she  was  but 


sis  days  over  a  year  old  she  was  worked 
•  \  .lay  lor  twenty- 
six  consecutive  days.  The  only  limit  to  her 
rang!-  was  the  finding  of  a  bevy  of  birds,  and 
in  th.'  lour  heats  she  was  down  when  she 
won  the  all  age  stake,  she  found  every  bevy 
that  was  found  It  will  be  seen  from  this 
that  even  though  half  of  her  speed  was 
worked  out  of  her  before  the  trials,  she  still 
had  enough  of  both  speed  and  range  to  be 
the  outside  dog  and  the  judgment  to  hunt 
in  the  right  places.  She  ran  with  a  long, 
smooth,  easy  stride,  because  she  was  built  on 
such  lines  as  can  only  make  that  kind  of 
motion  possible.  It  was  this  easy,  smooth 
motion  that  gave  her  her  remarkable  endur- 
ance. Here  then  is  a  type  of  setter  that  can 
win  in  the  field  and  win  on  the  bench.  Her 
build  is  symmetrical  and  therefore  pleasing. 
The  size  and  contour  of  the  head  is  in  keep- 
ing with  the  body  and  typical  of  the  breed. 
Then  like  a  rich  frame  to  a  handsome  picture 
is  the  beautiful  coat  of  the  real  English  setter. 
Here  is  almost  a  perfect  bench  show  type 
which  at  the  same  time  is  the  best  of  field 
trial  types  because  it  produces  that  smooth 
easy  action  which  alone  can  combine  speed 
with  endurance.  But  I  will  be  answered: 
"That  is  one  of  ten  thousand."  I'll  admit  it, 
but  there  is  no  reason  why  there  should  not 
be  more.  I  take  some  credit  for  the  produc- 
tion of  that  bitch,  for  I  bought  her  dam  when 
I  had  no  use  for  her  but  to  breed  her  to  the 
dog  Stanford. 

Stanford  was  the  fastest  dog  outside  of  a 
greyhound,  that  I  have  ever  seen  move.  His 
breeding  was  of  the  very  best,  being  a  litter 
brother  to  Count  Gladstone  IV.  He  had  the 
characteristic  head  of  the  southern  field  trial 
dog,  looking  more  like  an  overgrown  wart  on 
the  end  of  his  neck  than  the  head  of  an 
English  setter.  He  had  a  beautiful  neck;  a 
grand  pair  of  shoulders;  splendidly  placed 
elbows;  a  fine  chest,  and  the  shortest  back 
for  the  length  of  his  body  I  ever  saw  placed 
on  a  dog.  His  hips  were  long  and  of  the 
right  formation.  But  with  all  this  he  had  a 
miserable  head  and  was  far  too  light  in  bone. 
In  short  he  lacked  substance  all  over.  I  came 
across  a  bitch  in  one  of  my  hunts  that  I 
believe  would  form  a  good  nick  for,  as  she 
had  a  fine  head,  was  heavy  in  bone  and 
altogether  strong  where  he  was  weak.  Stan- 
ford also  was  closely  inbred,  and  to  offset  this 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAG  A  /.I  NE 


147 


the  bitch  possessed  a  strong  outcross  of  good 
blood.  The  nick  was  a  success,  all  the  litter 
being  handsome,  well  made  dogs.  Uufor- 
tunately  the  sire  succumbed  to  pneumonia 
when  but  a  year  and  a  half  old,  and  I  got 
but  the  one  litter  by  him. 

I  have  gone  somewhat  into  detail  regard- 
ing this  bitch  and  her  breeding  to  illustrate  my 
position  that  there  need  be  but  one  type  of 
English  setter  for  both  the  field  and  the  bench, 
if  we  breed  for  the  right  standard.  I  believe 
in  speed  as  strongly  as  anyone,  but  I  want  to 
get  my  speed  through  that  conformation  that 
gives  a  long,  smooth  stride  and  therefore 
carries  with  it  the  necessary  endurance  for 
good  work.  The  long  smooth  striding  dog 
does  not  look  to  be  going  as  fast  as  the  little 
short  up  and  down  jumper,  but  let  the  two 
come  side  by  side  and  the  smooth  mover  goes 
right  away  from  the  other.  The  reason  for 
this  is  that  he  is  in  no  way  bound  or  cramped 
in  his  action.  He  has  good  length  of  body; 
his  elbow  is  out  of  the  way  of  his  lungs;  his 
ribs  are  out  of  the  way  of  his  stifles;  and  all 
the  bones  of  locomotion  are  so  placed  as  to 
work  in  harmony  with  each  other  at  every 
position  the  act  of  galloping  brings  them  in- 
to. This  harmony  of  parts  must  produce 
symmetry  of  contour  and  therefore  beauty, 
making  it  at  once  the  type  for  the  bench  as 
well  as  the  field.  If  this  type  of  dog  can  be 
bred  once  by  the  selection  of  the  proper  form 
of  sire  and  dam,  it  can  be  produced  again  and 
two  of  such  bred  together  would  be  apt  to 
reproduce  themselves  once  in  a  while.  By 
mating  the  best  of  these,  an  intelligent  breeder, 
able  to  select  correctly  the  proper  type  for 
reproduction  could  in  a  few  years  give  us  a 
strain  of  setters  possessing  the  highest  type 
of  bench  beauty  with  that  physical  confor- 
mation which  combines  speed  and  endurance. 
By  careful  selection  also  he  could  get  back  to 
the  level-headed  judgment  and  consistent  per- 
formance of  the  past.  Mr.  Thdhias,  who  is 
now  taking  great   interest   in  the   breed,   may 


prove  to  be  the  Llewellin  of  America,  or  in 
other  words  the  Moses  that  will  lead  us  out 
of  the  wilderness  this  craze  for  "class",  and 
the  imagination  of  toy-dog  judges  have  lost 
us  in.  But  if  he  does,  he  must  start  right 
with  a  perfect  understanding  of  the  desired 
type,  clearly  defined  in  his  eye.  He  will  never 
breed  them  from  a  sirdar  or  a  bitch  of  the 
bad  type  of  an  Eloree.  It  will  be  an  accident 
if  he  should  find  another  Stanford  in  shoulders 
and  length  of  body,  or  another  bitch  at  this 
day  with  the  grand  head  and  splendid  bone 
possessed  by  the  one  with  which  he  was  so 
successfully  mated.  Either  of  the  first  three 
pictures  in  the  group  referred  to  will 
furnish  him  the  best  types  he  will  be  able  to 
begin  with  though  each  is  faulty  in  places. 
Mariposa,  at  the  top  of  the  group  is  more  than 
good  in  neck  and  front,  but  he  is  too  leggy, 
lacks  a  bit  in  depth  of  chest  and  is  faulty"  in 
his  quarters.  Mallwyd  Bob,  the  second  dog, 
has  a  quite  good  head,  very  good  front,  about 
right  in  length  of  legs,  but  lacks  in  neck  and  is 
not  good  in  quarters.  Cato's  Frank,  the  third 
in  the  group,  is  grand  in  quarters  and  better 
in  back  than  either  of  the  others,  but  while  'he 
is  fine  in  chest  and  spring  of  ribs,  he  is 
faulty  in  shoulder  formation.  But  if  we  expect 
to  breed  good  ones  we  must  commence  with 
sires  and  dams  strong  in  some  desirable 
point.  An  evenly  built  dog,  fairly  good  at  all 
points  is  not  the  foundation  upon  which  to 
build  superiority.  But  with  a  foundation 
strong  at  a  given  point  until  we  can  reproduce 
it,  crossed  onto  another  equally  strong  at 
some  other  we  may  reasonably  expect  in  time 
to  breed  the  perfect  combination  of  field 
and  bench  form,  which  is  nothing  more  than 
a  well  balanced,  symmetrically  built  animal  on 
such  lines  as  will  enable  the  dog  to  move 
easily,  smoothly  and  rapidly,  giving  him 
grace  of  action  and  power  of  endurance.  Add 
to  this  a  proper  head  and  handsome  coat  and 
you  have  the  true  type  of  English  setter. 


I  ^ 1 


14X 


WES  TERh    FIELD 


FROM  THE  HANDLER'S  VIEW 

EDITOR  OF  WESTERN  FIELD,  Dear  Sir:  I 
promised  to  write  a  letter  to  your  magazine 
on  the  little  troubles  that  have  loomed  up  in 
recent  years  between  the  members  of  the  Pacific 
Coast  Field  Trials  Club  and  the  dog  trainers  of  the 
Pacific  Coast  who  make  it  their  business  to  work 
for  men  who  own  and  run  dogs  for  sport  in  Field 
Trials.  But  after  due  consideration  I  think  it  much 
better  not  to  have  our  little  affairs  made  public.  A 
certain  few  of  the  members — or  rather  would-be 
reporters  and  critics — have  made  some  remarks  about 
the  handlers  that  won't  mend  matters  very  much;  in 
fact  some  of  the  remarks  are  uncalled  for,  and  I 
may  strike  back  a  little  later  on  this  point. 

What  is  a  Field  Trial  Club?  It  is  composed  of 
sporting  gentlemen  who  love  their  friend  the  dog, 
and  it  is  intended  for  the  improvement  of  the  setter 
and  the  pointer.  The  handlers  are  a  class  of  men  who 
make  their  business  to  train  and  handle  such  dogs 
at  '  Field  Trials.  We  have  it  mouthed  out  by  a 
certain  member  and  critic  that  the  pups  and  dogs  that 
took  part  in 'the  Pacific  Coast  Trials  last  held  were 
not  trained.  This  goes  to  say  that  the  handlers  are 
duping  the  members,  charging  them  for  work  which 
is  not -done,  work  required  to  make  a  good  field  dog. 
The  party  who  wrote  this,  I  .am  sorry  to  say,  cannot 
get  duped,  as  I  have  not  known  him  to  run  a  pup 
or  a  dog  for  fifteen  years.  His  long  suit  seems  to 
be  the  devotion  of  his  time  to  the  criticizing  of 
other  men's  work  and  the  work  of  the  dogs,  and 
the  decision  of  the  judges  and  the  trials;  in  fact  he 
has  only  seen  one  dog  or  rather  a  bitch — in  the 
trials  so  far  held  on  this  Coast,  and  he  .never  for- 
gets to  tell  us  all  about  this  great  prodigy. 

ed  man  makes  a  poor  reporter 
lay  be  a  man  of  letters,  but  plain 
vant  to  read  in  public  print.  We 
ons  dished  up  as  reports  of  Field 
States.  If  reporters  would  only 
one  would  know  what  was  being 
*y    reporter    thinks    he   knows   more 


net 


Now,    a    prej 

of  any  kind.     £ 

facts  are  what  ■ 

have  too  many 

Trials   all    over   th 

give  us   plain   fact 

recorded.      But   evi 

than   the  judges,   not   only  at   Field  Trials   but   at   the 

bench     shows    also.       I     admit     that    there    are    some 

very    good    painstaking    reporters,    and    I    have    seen 

such    men    at    the    Pacific    Coast    Field    Trials    of    late 

Now    I    want    to    say   a    little    about    poorly    broken 
dCgS — "rabbit    chasers,"    that    seem    to    be   the    biggest 


trouble  with  the  critics  and  others.  I  have  been  at 
Held  Trials  as  early  as  the  great  Countess  Noble,  and 
I  have  seen  more '  or  less  rabbit  chasing  at  every 
trial  I  have  attended — and  that  too  by  some  of  the 
best  pups  and  dogs  that  ever  started  at  a  trials  on 
the  Coast — and  I  expect  to  see  more  of  it  so  long  as 
the  Club  runs  off  its  trials  amidst  a  pest  of  jack- 
rabbits  numbering  usually  about  ten  for  every  quail 
on  the  grounds.  The  field  trial  grounds  in  Kern 
County  are  much  the  hardest  grounds  on  which  to 
get  out  the  most  of  a  pup,  or  even  of  an  old  dog, 
of  any  field  trial  grounds  on  the  Coast  or  even  in 
America,  for  the  following  reasons: 

First,  the  weather  as  a  rule  is  dry  and  hot,  which 
will  burn  up  the  scent  of  a  single  quail  in  a  few 
seconds.  Then  you  have  the  jackrabbit  pest  to 
contend  with,  and  coupled  with  this  you  have  the 
cunningest  little  running  game  bird  in  the  United 
States  and  perhaps  in  the  whole  world — birds. which 
give  the  dogs  much  more  trouble  to  locate  and  point 
than  any  other  known.  We  have  all  this  to  account 
for  all  the  poor  showing  pups  make  at  trials.  All 
critics  ought  to  know  this  and  make  some  allowances 
for  the  very  spirited  youngster  at  his  first  season's 
work.  It  is  rhe  men  who  do  not  take  all  this  into 
consideration  that  make  the  strong  remarks  about 
"poorly  broken"  dogs. 

It  is  possible  to  break  any  pup  in  its  first  season's 
work  with  the  lash  and  spike  collar,  but  when  this  is 
done  what  have  you  left?  A  cowed  shooting  plug. 
Will  such  dogs  as  this  win  a  place  under  the  sharp 
eye  of  a  class  judge?  They  may  with  some  of  our 
California  judges  who  are  looking  for  a  shooting 
dog — or  what  is  termed  a  good  shooting  dog,  which 
by  the  way  a  great  many  men  don't  know  anything 
at  all  about — but  they  would  never  stand  any  show 
to  be  placed  under  a  class  judge;  and  if  we  are 
coming  down  to  this  class  of  field  trial  dogs  in 
California,  we  had  better  change  our  blood  and  field 
trial  strains  that  we  have  been  breeding  for  years  for 
class,  speed  and  range — for  the  bold  going  dog  in 
short  that  can  find  and  point  his  bird.  I  could  write 
a  book  on  such  dogs  and  their  work  afield,  but  perhaps 
I  have  said  enough  at  one  time,  and  we  handlers  are 
just  waiting  for  some  new  rules  the  Club  is  about 
to  enforce,  and  after  they  come  out  I  may  write 
another   letter   in   our   behalf. 

In  the  mean  time,  let  good  fellowship  prevail,  and 
let  us  have  the  record  trials  on  your  25th  anniversary. 
W.   B.   COUTTS. 


Jf> 

TENNIS 



cn^> 

THE  TWENTY-THIRD   ANNUAL   CHAMPIONSHIP   TOURNAMENT 
OF  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA 


HUivtr. itr.l  fo 


i  u  Ajigelea 


By  JOS.    DAILY 


I  ALL  my  experience  at  tennis  tourna- 
ments where  it  has  been  my  pleasure 
t<>  Bcore  many  of  the  most  important 
events  west  of  the  Rockies  n  be- 
hooves me  to  state  that  the  23rd 
annual  championship  tournament  for 
championships  of  Southern  California 
held  011  the  courts  of  the  Venice 
Country  Club  at  Venice,  Cal.,  was 
to  a  moral  certainty  the  most  suc- 
cessful event  of  its  kind  evei  held 
in  California,  if  not  in  any  other 
tennis  center— and  as  a  fitting  climax  to  a  successful 
neck's  play  the  finals  in  every  event  played  on  the 
last  day  of  the  tourney  were  of  that  hair-raising 
variety  that  held  the  large  concourse  of  spectator* 
speechless  at  times  and  frantic  at  others,  especially 
m«  in  the  challenge  match  between  Melville  Long  of 
San  Francisco  and  Harold  Braly  of  Los  Angeles — 
champions    of    Pacific    States    and    Southern    California 

respectively. 

scientific    tenuis    this    was    certainly    the 

ever  played   here,  and  admitting  the   fact 

was    not    the    player,    physically,    that     he 

was   last   year,    he   certainly   played   magnificently    and 

was    within    one   point    of   the   match   on    six   different 

5,    and    up   to   the   very   finish    the   outcome   was 

extremely   doubtful. 

Long's  playing  was  a  revelation;  he  had  every 
strike  known  to  the  game  at  his  command  and 
executed  them  with  that  unerring  precision  that 
reminded  me  much  of  Malcolm  Whitman— ex-cham- 
pion of  United  States  mi  his  visit  to  the  Coa^t  some 
years  since.  In  both  Long  and  Braly  I  have  no 
hesitancy  in  declaring  that  California  has  two  very 
likely  candidates  for  National  honors  should  they 
turney  East  for  the  big  championship  events. 
A  total  of  games  played  gave  Long  35  and  Braly  34, 
which  goes  to  show  the  extreme  closeness  of  the 
affair.  Both  these  players  will  very  likely  figure 
in    another   battle   royal   at    the    fourth    Annual    Tourna- 


For  good 
best  contest 
thai     Braly 


Santa    Barbara, 

the  surprise  of  many 
in  a  \  ery  interesting 
the  finals  disposed  of 
ongest  teams  in  Cali- 
fornia— after  a  grueling  argument  lasting  the  full 
five  sets:  scote  6-3,  2-6,  6-4,  4-6,  6-4.  Ami  in  the 
challenge    match    against    last    year's    champions,    Sins 

abaugh    and    Browne,    had    a    lead    of    tun    sets 

and     the     score     was     six     games     all     when     darkness 

necessitated  a  pi  istponement. 


ment    to    be    given    at    Hotel     Potl 
August   21-24. 

Variel  and   Wayne  greatly   to   tl 
defeated    Long    and    Gardner    in 
match,    score    7-5,    6-3,    and    in 
Way    and    Bell    one    of    the    si 


Melville  X.  Long 
Pac,   Coast  Champion 


ISO 


WESTl  i<\   1  tl  i  D 


Wi 


Special    Ladies'     Singles 


The    Ladies   doubles   were   very   interesting   am 
matches    were    hotly    contested;    Miss    F.    Sutton 
Miss   Alice    Scott     were   the   strongest   team   but 
forced    to    their    utmost    in    their    match    against 
Farquhar    an( 


Mr 


Mrs.  Bruce,  which  they  won  by  6-4, 
6-3.  Miss  Peralta  and  Miss  Sterling  defeated  Miss 
Browne  and  Miss  Bundy  by  6-2,  6-1  in  a  match  the 
closeness  of  which  is  not  indicated  by  the  score. 

The  final  match  in  this  event  was  a  clever  exhibition 
on  the  part  of  Miss  Sutton  and  Miss  Scott,  who 
took  advantage  of  every  opportunity  offered  and  won 
out   in   dashing   style  by   6-1,    6-2. 

The  junior  singles  was  one  of  the  great  attractions, 
and  brought  together  the  two  most  promising  young- 
sters in  these  parts  in  the  persons  of  Ward  Dawson 
and  AY  in  f  red  Mace;  these  players  have  met  in  three 
tournaments  recently:  at  Ojai,  in  the  inter-scholastic 
which    Mace    won    6-4,    7-5;    at    Southern    California 


Miss   Mary  Brown 
"The    Coming    Champion" 

courts  class  tournament,  where  Dawson  won  6-4,  7-5; 
and  at  Country  Club  tourney  week  of  July  4  last, 
when  Dawson  again  won  by  exactly  same  score. 
Mace  succeeded  in  disposing  of  Dawson  after  a 
spirited  contest  on  "this  last  occasion  by  the  close 
score  of  6-3,  5-7,  6-4,  thus  becoming  Junior  champion 
of  Southern  California,  a  title  won  last  year  by  Harry 
Rogers. 

Miss  F.  Sutton  was  conceded  to  have  a  walk  over 
in  the  open  singles  but  in  the  final  match  had  to 
extend  herself  considerably  in  disposing  of  Miss  Alice 
Scott  to  whom  she  lost  the  first  set  by  a  7-5  score, 
winning  the  next  two  6-3,  6-1. 

In  the  challenge  match  of  this  event  Mrs.  B.  O. 
Bruce  lost  the  title  of  lady  champion  to  her  sister, 
Miss  F.  Sutton,  not  however  without  a  stubborn 
struggle   by   a   score   of   9-7,   6-4. 

Miss    Sutton    and    S.    M.    Sinsabaugh    captured    the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


151 


Miss  Fisher 
New    York    Expert 


Jos.  Daily 

Pacific    Coast    Professional    Champion 

Instructor    in    Tennis 


mixed  doubles  event  in  a  slashing  final  match  with 
Mrs.  Bruce  and  T.  Bundy,  score  6-8,  7-5,  6-2. 

Miss  E.  Peralta  deserves  great  credit  for  the  clever 
manner  in  which  she  won  the  ladies  special  event,  in 
which  she  defeated  that  sterling  young  expert  Miss 
Mary  Browne  5-7,  6-3,  6-2,  and  then  took  the  final 
from  Miss  Fisher  of  New  York,  a  player  of  no 
mean  ability,  by  a  score  of  4-6,  6-4,  6-2. 

In  regard  to  the  courts,  management,  etc.,  too 
much  praise  can  not  be  bestowed  upon  the  different 
committees  having  the  affair  in  charge  for  the  able 
and  efficient  manner  in  which  the  large  number  of 
daily  visitors  were  taken  care  of  and  the  promptness 
with  which  the  matches  were  played  off.  The  courts 
were  (thanks  to  the  Country  Club  directors)  in 
excellent  condition  and  the  weather  conditions  were 
absolutely  perfect. 

Long  received  one  grand   ovation   at   the  conclusion 


of  his  match  with  Braly  and,  much  as  we  would  have 
liked  to  keep  the  championship  here,  it  was  indeed 
a  pleasure  to  note  the  true  sportsmanlike  manner  in 
which  the  local  people  took  the  defeat  of  their  idol; 
and  be  it  said  that  never  has  a  player  so  gracefully 
acknowledged  defeat  as  did  the  ex-champion. 
Another  pleasing  feature  was  the  return  to  the  game 
of  four  past-masters  of  the  art,  namely  R.  A.  Rowan, 
J.  S.  Cravens.  D.  McGilvray  and  Conde  Jones.  Con- 
sidering that  this  was  their  first  tournament  appear- 
ance in  years  all  did  extremely  well.  Cravens  and 
McGilvray  defeated  Rowan  and  Jones  9-7,  6-4,  and 
Frink  and  Roehrig  8-6,  6-1,  but  succumbed  to  the 
Roger  Brothers,  a  very  likely  team  of  youngsters,  by 
a  score  of  6-4,  6-4. 

The  score  disks  on  each  scorer's  stand— an  inven- 
tion of  Mr.  R.  H.  F.  Variel — were  not  only  a  great 
cenvenience    to    the    scorers    but    to    the    spectators    as 


152 


f 

i 

Ml 

MR 

Secty.-Tr 


i:ili 


Tom   Bundy 

A  Los  Angeles  track 


well,  and  were  plainly  seen  from  all  parts  of  the 
grounds;  the  progress  of  each  match  could  be  easily 
noted.  Pending  the  issuing  of  patent  I  will  not  at  this 
time  give  an  accurate  description  of  the  same. 

There  were  19  entries  in  the  consolation  event,  but 
many  defaults.  It  was  won  by  A.  J.  Gowan,  who 
beat  J.  Holmes  6-3.  3-6.  6-2;  quite  a  good  exhibition 
but   won    by   superior   steadiness. 

I  We  regret  that  lack  of  space  debars  us  from 
printing  the   full  scores  in  detail.     Ed.] 

THE     COUNTRY     CLUB     AT    THE    VENICE    QF 

AMERICA 

VENICE  has  the  only  complete  Country  Club  im- 
mediately on  the  Pacific  Coast.  There  are 
four  first-class   tennis  courts,   a   cricket   field  and 


athletic  park,  trap  shooting  and  a  rifle  range. 
Opportunities  for  canoeing,  rowing,  sailing  and  for 
launches  either  on  still  water  or  on  the  Ocean,  are 
furnished  at  Venice  by  the  Lake  and  canals  for 
inland  water  and  by  the  Venice  Breakwater  on  the 
Ocean.  Fishing  and  hunting  facilities  are  available 
in  the  nearby  mountains,  through  preserved  duck 
grounds    and    on    the    Pacific. 

The  club  building  is  beautifully  located  on  high 
ground  with  the  Pacific  Ocean  on  one  side  and  the 
Sierra  Madre  and  its  wild  peaks  on  the  other.  A 
rich  section  with  villas  and  homes  is  rapidly  grow- 
ing between  the  Sierra  and  the  Sea.  It  is  an 
ideal   situation   for   a   Country   Club. 

There    are    some    thirty    bedrooms    foi 
kitchen,    dining-rooms,    library,    billiard    r 


gentlemen, 
urns    and    a 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


Some  Southern    Tennis   Playe 


smokers, 


special    addition     for    the    ladies.       Besides    the    usual 

club    functions,    matches,    tournaments 

the  ladies   have  one   afternoon   and   01 

week     for     cards     and     entertainment.       The 

Courts   are   lighted   by   electric    festoons   and   a: 

for   dancing   by   the   aid   of   a   tight    stretched 

This  out-door  dancing  in   the  sheltered  courts 

artistic     and     comfortable     and     these     dancei 

become   celebrated. 

The  Club  is  accessible  by  trolley  every  few  : 
from  the  two  adjoining  cities  of  Santa  Monica  and 
Ocean  Park,  and  from  all  parts  of  Venice.  Los 
Angeles  is  about  a  thirty-five  minute  run  by  "Flyer" 
on    the    electric. 


ng   each 


both 
have 


linutes 


All  of  the  wonderful  attractions  of  the  Venice 
of  America  are  close  by,  so  that  splendid  music,  social 
entertainments  and  many  and  varied  amusements  are 
at  hand  for  rest  and  recreation.  One  thing  at 
Venice  has  no  superior  in  the  world;  this  is  the 
bathing.  On  the  Venice  Lake  is  the  beautiful  plunge 
witu  gymnastic  apparatus,  also  tub  and  sanitary  bath- 
ing, sun  room,  etc.,  with  still  water  bathing  in  the 
Lake.  On  the  Ocean  side  is  the  great  open  air 
plunge,  the  largest  heated  plunge  in  the  world,  with 
dry,  sweet  and  sunny  dressing  rooms  and  the 
finest  and  safest  surf  beach  in  the  world.  This 
beach  is  of  fine  sand  with  no  gravel,  no  holes  and 
no    currents.     The    Breakwater    gives    one    the    choice 


[^^»'^fc1__ 

%      1        ^ 

ft 

mt-i 

Club  House,   Ocean  Park   Country   Club 


154 


WESTERN  FIELD 


of  wh.it  .mi. nint  of  surf  one  wants.  There  is  music 
at  the  fashionable  bathing  hours  between  ten  and 
twelve. 

her    the    Venice    Country    Club    is    an    atirac- 


and    charming   institution,   and   the   best   of   it   all 
IK,    hospitable   ana  progressive   member- 
of  the  Club. 


•  •• 


NOTICE  TO  SOUTHERN  CALIFORNIA  CLUBS 


THERE  will  be  an  important  meeting  of  the  Board 
of  Directors  of  the  L.  A.  County  Garni 
Protective  Association.  Thursday  afternoon, 
September  25,  at  1  :30  o'clock,  at  the  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce. Los  Angeles,  at  which  meeting  arrangements 
will  be  made  for  the  meeting  of  the  St.iu-  Came  and 
Fish  Protective  Association,  to  be  held  there  November 
8.  9  and  10.  190".  Be  sure  and  attend.  It  has  been 
suggested    to    hold    a    State    Rifle    Tournament,    State 


Blue  Rock  Tournament,  a  Fly  Casting  and  Bait  Cast- 
ing Tournament  at  the  same  time,  in  order  to  have  a 
grand  conclave  of  sportsmen  of  the  State  of  Cali- 
fornia. You  arc  therefore  kindly  invited  to  send  one 
or  more  delegates  to  act  for  your  Club  to  assist  in 
making  arrangements  for  such  a  meeting,  and  we 
earnestly  hope  you  will  not  disappoint  us,  but  be 
present. 


•  •• 


FOR  "BIG  FISH"  ANGLERS 


TWO  clubs  of  especial  interest  to  those  who  angle 
for  the  salt  water  giants  are  the  Santa  Catalina 
Island  Tuna  Club  of  Avalon.  Cal.,  and  the 
Aransas   Pass  Tarpon   Club,   Tarpon.   Tex. 

The  requirements  for  membership  in  the  former 
are: 

Active  Blue  Button  Members:  Open  to  those  who 
have  taken  a  Tuna  of  not  less  than  100  pounds  on 
rod  and  reel,  rod  to  measure  not  less  than  six  feet 
nine  inches  in  length,  tip  to  weigh  not  more  than 
sixteen  ounces.  By  tip  is  meant  that  part  of  the  rod 
from  the  reel  seat  to  the  tip.  The  line  must  not  ex- 
ceed standard  twenty-four  strands.  Those  who  qualify 
in  this  class,  and  are  regularly  elected  receive  the 
Blue  Tuna  Club  Button. 

Active  Red  Button  Members:  Open  to  those  who 
have  taken  a  Tuna  of  not  less  than  fifty  pounds  on 
rod  and  reel.  The  tips  must  not  be  less  than  live 
feet  in  length  and  must  not  weigh  more  than  six 
ounces:  no  restrictions  as  to  length,  size  or  weight  of 
butt.  The  line  must  be  a  standard  nine  thread  linen 
line.  Those  who  qualify  in  this  class  and  are  regu- 
larly elected  receive  the  Red  Tuna  Club  Button. 

Associate  Members:  Those  who  are  skilled  rod  and 
reel  fishermen  and  earnest  advocates  of  true  sport  as 
understood  by  members  of  the  club,  and  who  are 
regularly  elected.  A  pin  badge,  fac  simile  of  Tuna 
Club  Pennant,  will  be  issued  (if  desired)  to  associate 
members. 

Rules:  Anglers  must  bring  fish  to  gaff  entirely 
unaided.  The  fish  must  be  reeled  in  fairly;  a  broken 
rod  either  before  or  after  gaffing  disqualifies  the 
angler,  it  being  assumed  to  display  a  lack  of  skill. 
Membership  is  open  to  amateurs  only,  professional 
fishermen  or  those  engaged  in  allied  industries  and 
members  of  their  families  are  barred. 

All  catches  must  be  reported  at  once  to  a  member 
of  the  weighing  committee,  weighed  in  his  presence 
and  posted.  Tackle  must  be  exhibited  with  the  fish, 
no  allowance  for  shrinkage.  Anglers  shall  fish  with 
but  one  rod  at  a  time  and  take  fish  absolutely  un- 
aided. 

Initiation  Fees  and  Dues:  Active  Members — $5.00 
upon  election,  and  $5.00  per  annum.  Associate  Mem- 
bers— $2.50  upon  election,  and  $2.50  per  annum. 

For  further  information  address,  L.  P.  Streeter,  Sec- 
retary. Avalon,   Cal. 


THE  Aransas  Pass  Tarpon  Club,  with  headquarters 
at  Tarpon  Inn,  Tarpon,  Tex.,  is  holding  its  first 
progressive  tournament  this  year  <  March  1 — 
December  1,  1907).  The  club  has  been  organized  for 
the  purpose  of  encouraging  the  use  of  licrht  tackle  in 
taking  tarpon  in  the  waters  of  Aransas  Pass,  for  the 
protection  of  tarpon  and  in  the  interests  of  a  higher 
standard  of  sport.  The  initiation  fee  is  $5.00  and 
The  officers  are  L.  P.  Streeter. 
;ident:  W.  B.  Leach.  Palestine, 
sident;  A.  \V.  Hooper,  Boston, 
-President;  J.  E.  Cotter,  Tarpon, 
J.     E.    Prlueger.    Akron. 


dues. 
Pasadena.    Cal..    Pre 

Tex.,    First     Viee-Pr 


Texas,     Secretary -Tre:  _ 

Ohio,  Corresponding  Secretary. 

Membership:  Membership  in  the  club  is  open  to 
amateur  fishermen  only,  who  have  caught  in  the 
waters  of  Aransas  Pass  on  light  tackle  according  to 
the  rules  of  the  club  a  tarpon  of  not  less  than  four 
feet    six    inches. 

Buttons:  A  silver  button  will  be  presented  to  each 
member  landing  a  tarpon,  the-  length  of  which  shall 
not  be  less  than   four  feet  six  inches. 

A  gold  button  will  be  presented  to  each  member 
landing  a  tarpon,  the  length  of  which  shall  not  be 
less  than   five   feet  six  inches. 

Rules:  First — The  line  used  must  be  a  standard 
nine  thread  linen  line.  Fifteen  feet  of  the  line  must 
be  turned  in  with  the  catch  at  the  time  of  measuremnt. 
and,  if  on  examination,  the  line  is  found  to  be  of 
extra  size  and  strength,  the  catch  will  be  disqualified. 


Second 
pieces,  and  the  minir 
butt,  must  not  be  les; 
be  less  than  five  feet 
more  than  six  ounces, 
the  rod  from  the  reel  seat  to 


ust  be  a  wood  rod  of  two 
length  of  same,  including 
i  six  feet.  Tips  must  not 
ngth.  and  must  not  weigh 
(by  tip  is  meant  that  part  of 
d  of  rod)   no  restric- 


to  length,  size  or  weight  of  butt. 

Third— There  must  not  be  over  six  inches  of  line 
doubled  back  at  the  tie,  and  length  of  leader  shall  not 
exceed  thirty-six  inches. 

Fourth — Anglers  competing  for  membership  or  prizes 
shall  submit  their  tackle  for  inspection  to  one  of  the 
Measuring  Committee  for  approval.  Tackle  shall  also 
be  submitted  for  inspection  when  catch  is  measured. 

Fifth— Every  angler  must  bring  his  fish  to  gaff  un- 
aided, and  the  fish  must  be  reeled  in.  A  broken  rod 
either   before   or   after   gaffing   disqualifies   the   catch. 

Sixth — Fish  must  be  measured  at  the  office  of  R.  E. 
Farley,  official  scaler  of  the  club.  For  further  in- 
formation alddress,  J.  E.  Cotter,  Secretary  and  Treas- 


"^ 


ADJ'ERTISEMEXTS 


[JRADjflOPICS 


JOHN  C.  CLARK 

IS  with  the  most  poignant  regret  that  we  an- 
nounce the  death  of  one  of  Western  Field's  best 
friends,    Mr.   John    C.    Clark,    president   and   treas- 

of  the   Clark   Engraving  and  Printing   Company, 


Milwaukee.   Wis. 
Mr.    Clark 


gentlemanly 
business   connectii 
times.      He    had 


keen   young  sportsman,   cle 


spor 


and 


able 
lovable 


and 


companion  at  all 
peculiarly  bright  and  promising 
career  ahead  of  him  and  his  untimelv  taking  off 
entails  a  severe  loss  to  the  business  circles  of  his 
city,  and  a  greater  one  upon  the  thousands  of  friends 
who  will  mourn   his  untimely  death. 


TO    MAKE    IMPROVED    SIGHTS 


w 


:  ARE 

poratic 
orld-i 


Ivised  bv  the  Lyman  Gun  Sight  Cor- 
of  Middleiield.  Conn.,  makers  of  the 
ed  Lyman  sights,  that  they  ha 


been  compelled  to  make  an  important  addition  to  their 
already  immense  manufacturing  plant,  in  order  to 
bring  out  sights  possessing  many  new  and  important 
features  which  they  have  from  time  to  time  perfected 
and  patented,  but  which  heretofore  thev  have  found 
impossible  to  make  in  addition  to  the  regular  old  lines 
of  sights  required  to   fill  their  orders. 

Considering  the  near  to  perfection  of  the  old  models 
of  these  sights,  sportsmen  will  feel  no  little  curiosity 
and  pleasurable  anticipation  as  to  just  what  these  new 
improvements  will  be,  and  what  form  they  will  as- 
sume. It  is  proverbially  hard  to  gild  refined  gold  to 
any  advantage  or  to  paint  the  lily  of  perfection  more 
acceptably,  but_  if  the  Lyman  people  say  they  are  going 
to  accomplish  it,  the  world  accepts  it  as  already  done. 


EASTERN    HANDICAP    WINNINGS 

THE  du  Pont  Company  feels  well  satisfied  with 
the  success  obtained  by  shooters  using  Dupont 
Smokeless  at  the  recent  Eastern  Handicap  Tour- 
nament given  bv  the  Interstate  Association  at  Boston, 
Mass.,  July  16  to  18.  Mr.  D.  A.  Upsom,  of  Cleve- 
land, Ohio,  won  the  Preliminary  Handicap  with  a 
score  of  94  out  of  100  from  19  yards.  Mr.  Upsom 
used  Dupont  Smokeless.  Mr.  H.  L.  Snow,  of  Port- 
land, Me.,  who  also  used  the  same  powder  tied  for 
first  place  in  the  Eastern  Handicap  with  a  score  of 
93  out  of  100.  The  highest  score  made  in  the  East- 
ern  Handicap  was  96.  which  was  made  by  Mr.  W.  H. 
Heer,  who  stood  at  20  yards.  The  high'  score  in  the 
Preliminary  Handicap  was  also  96,  which  was  made 
by  Fred  Gilbert,  who  stood  at  21  yards.  Both  these 
gentlemen  used  Dupont  Smokeless.  In  addition  to 
the  above  honors  first,  second  and  third  general  aver- 
ages and  the  second  and  third  amateur  averages  were 
all  won  by  shooters  who  used  Dupont  Smokeless. 
During  the  tournament  Mr.  Gilbert  made  a  run  of 
130  straight:  Mr.  W.  R.  Crosby  a  run  of  126  straight, 
and  Mr.  Lester  German,  97  straight.  These  three 
runs  were  made  with   Dupont  Smokeless. 


W.&J.SLOANE&CO. 


Complete  stock 

CARPETS 
ORIENTAL  RUGS 
FURNITURE 
DRAPERIES,  Etc. 


Sutter    and    Van   Ness 


EMIL  W.  HAGBOM 
Formerly  with  James 
W.  Bell  Son  &  Co. 
New  York 


EDWARD  MILLS 
Late  of 

Bullock  &  Jones 
San  Francisco 


MILLS  &  HAGBOM 


SMART 
CLOTHES 

MAKERS 


CORNER  FRANKLIN  AND 

O'FARRELL  STS. 

SAN  FRANCISCO,    CAL. 


When  Writing  Advertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD.' 


156 


WESTERN  FIELD 


SOME   PETERS    PERFORMANCES 

AT  BRENHAM,  Texas,  July  9th  and  10th,  high 
Professional  and  General  Average  was  won  by 
L.  I.  Wade,  scoring  330  out  of  370,  using 
Peters   Loaded  Shells. 

On  July  10th,  at  Wellington,  Mass.,  Mayor  E.  E. 
Keed,  of  Manchester,  N.  H.,  defended  the  title  of 
"New  England  Champion"  by  breaking  48  out  of  50, 
using   Peters   Ideal   Shells. 

Mr.  Fred  J.  Daggett  of  Winthrop,  Mass.,  won  high 
average  at  E.*  Lexington.  Mass.,  Tulv  4th,  with  Peters 
Ideal   Shells,   scoring    165  out  of    175. 

Mr.  Neaf  Apgar,  shooting  Peters  shells,  won  high 
professional  average  at  Quarryville,  Pa.,  July  11th, 
scoring  185  out  of  200.  Mr.  C.  B.  Johns  was  high 
Amateur,  breaking  183.  also  with  Peters  shells.  Mr. 
Apgar  was  high  on  the  last  day  of  the  Shamokin, 
Pa.,   shoot  with    186  out  of  200. 

Mr.  Harvey  Dixon  won  high  average  at  the  Joplin, 
Mo.,  tournament,  July  14th.  scoring  196  out  of  200,  or 
98  per  cent.  Mr.  Dixon  has  done  some  remarkable 
shooting  lately  at  other  points,  and  has  now  dem- 
onstrated his  ability  to  his  fellow  townsmen. 

At  Lake  Charles,  La.,  Julv  16th  and  17th,  Messrs. 
Guy  MacMurdo  and  John  A.  Skannal  tied  for  high 
Amateur  average,  scoring  422  out  of  480.  Mr.  YV.  T. 
Coyle  was  second  amateur,  and  Messrs.  L.  I.  Wade 
and  L.  P.  Chaudet  won  third  and  fourth  Profes- 
sional averages,  respectively, — by  using  Peters  Fac- 
tory Loaded  Shells. 

At  Winthrop,  Mass..  July  19th,  Mr.  G.  H.  Hassam. 
of  Boston,  won  high  average,  breaking  95  in  the 
100-Bird  Race,  and  scoring  for  the  dav  96.4  per  cent. 
He  used  Peters  Factory  Loaded  Ideal  Shells. 

At  Point  Clear,  Ala.,  July  19th  and  20th.  H.  D. 
Freeman,  shooting  Peters  Factory  Loaded  Shells,  tied 
for  High  Professional  and  High  General  average, 
scoring  374  out  of  400. 

At  Forth  Smith.  Arkansas.  Mr.  Henry  Dixon,  of 
Toplin,  Mo.,  won  high  Amateur  Average,  breaking 
374  ex  410,  shooting  Peters  Factory  Loaded  Shells. 

At  this  tournament  Peters  Shells  won  second,  third 
and  fourth  general  averages,  first  and  third  Amateur 
Averages,   and  the  Two   Men  Team   Race. 


At  the  Atlanta,  Ga„  Gun  Club,  July  27-29,  H.  D. 
Freeman,  shooting  Peters  Factory  Loaded  Shells,  made 
the  remarkable  score  of  368  ex  375,  with  one  run  of 
114  and  another  of  60  straight.  This  shooting  is 
about  the  best  ever  done  by  Mr.  Freeman,  who  can 
be  counted  upon  at  any  time  to  make  a  score  well 
up  in  the  nineties.  He  is  certainly  in  splendid  form 
and  his  ammunition  must  be  perfection  itself. 

At  Childress,  Texas,  July  18.  Mr.  C.  C.  Tones  won 
high  Amateur  Average,  and  Mr.  C.  Van  Sickle  sec- 
ond Amateur  Average,  and  Mr.  H.  A.  Murrelle,  high 
general  average,  all  using  Peters  Factory  Loaded 
Shells. 

On  the  first  dav  of  tne  tournament  at  Grass  Lake, 
Mich.,  July  30,  Mr.  L.  H.  Reid,  using  Peters  Factory 
Loaded   Shells  won  high  average,   scoring   188  ex  200. 

Mr.  Neaf  Apgar  won  high  professional  average  at 
the  following  tournaments:  Easton,  Pa.,  July  20, 
141  ex  150.  Asbury  Park,  N.  J.,  July  25-26,  188  ex 
200.     Newark,   N.  J..  July  27,  92  ex   100. 

At  Easton  high  Amateur  Average  was  won  by  J. 
Pleiss,  breaking  139  ex  150.  Messrs.  Pleiss  and 
Apgar    both    used    Peters    Shells. 

At  Albion,  Nebraska,  Tuly  30-31.  high  average  was 
won  by  Adolph  Olson,  who  scored  379  ex  400,  with 
Peters  Factory  Loaded  Shells. 

At  the  annual  competitions  of  the  New  York  State 
Rifle  Association  at  Creedmoot,  July  24-30,  Peters 
ammunition  once  more  demonstrated  its  superiority 
and  secured  the  lion's  share  of  the  honors. 

The  carbine  Team  Match  was  won  by  the  second 
X.  J.  troupe  with  Peters  Factory  Loaded  30  Caliber 
Cartridges. 

The  McAlpin  Trophy  Match  was  won  by  the  New 
York  State  Team,  and  the  Cruikshank  Trophy  Match 
by  the  U.  S.  Navy  Team,  both  using  Peters  30 
Caliber    bullets. 

In  the  Thurston  Match,  Capt.  G.  W.  Corwin  was 
second,  using  Peters  30  Caliber  bullets,  and  Sergeant 
W.  F.  Leushner  third  with  Peters  30  Caliber  Car- 
tridges.  In  the  New  York  State  Rifle  Association 
Match,  third,  fourth  and  fifth  places  went  to  Ser- 
geant G.  Donovan,  Capt.  W.  A.  Tewes,  and  Ser- 
geant  W.  F\  Leushner  respectively,  shooting  Peters 
30    Caliber    cartridges,    as    were    also    the    honors    of 


15  CENTS 


UCIUHbR,      1907  $1.50  THE  YEAR 


«. TT. 


Western  Agencies  &  Manufacturing  Co. 


A.  J.  BURTON,  MGR. 

Manufacturers  of 

LEATHER     AND     CANVAS     SPORTING     GOODS. 

LEGGINS. 

BELTS.    TRAVELERS'    SAMPLE 

ROLLS. 

CASES.    AUTOMOBILE    TIRE 

COVERS.    ETC. 

Sole    Agents  for 

"  F  A  B  R  1  K  0 1  D  "     The  best  artificial 

leather  made. 

Successor  to  PEGAMOID. 

Phone  Market  2427 

Office  and  Factory 

1785  15th  Street  near  Guerrero 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA. 

Everything  for  the  Automobile 

Stock  ^       K    A     W   just 
Takiii0    ^^^*r  t^^w      lnventoried 
Sale        y^MJT      $25,000 

Sacrifice  Prices 


On  Our  Full  Line, 
including  Runniny 
Gears.  Engines. 
Axles.  Wheels. 
Tires. General  Parts 
and  Supplies  —  in 
fact  everything  for 
the  Automobile. 


Over 
Stock 


MORE  MONEY  FOR  YOU 

Flyer  rs'o.  17  —  A.  Surprise 
CLEARING  SALE  FLYER  NO.  17  YOURS  FOR  YOUR  NAME  AND  ADDRESS 

Neustadt  Automobile  &  Supply  Company 


THE  GROWING  HOUSE 


3948-SO  Olive  St.,  ST.  UOU1S,  MO. 


WESTERN  FIELD 

PUBLISHED  AT  GREATER  SAN  FRANCISCO.  CALIFORNIA 

Vol.  11  OCTOBER,    1907  No.   3 

CONTENTS  OF  THIS    NUMBER 

Frontispiece—"  Doing  His  Part." 

An    Autumn  Ballad  (Verse) Ed-ward  Ells-worth  Hipsher 

On  the  Salt  Marsh Tom  Vettch 

Summit  Land  (Verse) Zoe  Hart  man 

The  Lure  of  Autumn  Days Harry  H.  Dunn 

Quail  (Verse) Charles  Elmer  Jcnney 

English  Sport— Part  III— Deer  Stalking R.  Clafham 

My  Dream  (Verse) Harry  T.  Fee 

Alone  the  Rio  Pecos T.  Shelley  Sutton 

October  Thrift  (\  erse) Sinclair  Lewis 

When  the  Teal  Come  In "Don  Ramon" 

To  the  Frozen   El  Dorado— Part  II John  F.  Sugrue 

Sonnet Sam  Exton  Foulds 

Animal  Courage-Part  I F.    W.  Retd 

Autumn's  Coming  (Verse) Stacy  F.    Baker 

In  the  Golden  Days  (Verse) Grace  G.   Crowell 

The  Coup  of  W.  Dugan Maurice  Smiley 

South  Coast  Shooting— Part  IX.— The  Band  Tailed  Pigeon "  Sttllhunter" 

An  Indian  Cry Emily  J.  Hamilton 

A  Vagabond's  Religion  (Verse) Marian  N.  Baker 

Two  Days  with  the  Cans E.  Van  Antwerp 

Manoeuvres  of  the  Hunted R.  Clapham 

Rest,  but  Rest  Right H.  H.  Mac  hall 

Spray  from  Spokane August    Wolf 

Yachting— 1907  Race  for  the  Perpetual  Cup Arthur  In&ersley 

Gunshyness  in  the  Dog H.  T.  Payne 

\  en  ice  Dog  Show 

San  Mateo  Dog  Show 

1 7— DEPARTMENTS—  1 7 


LOOK!     LOOK!     LOOK! 


...WON  ... 

First 

Second 

Third 

Fifth 

Sixth 

Seventh 

at  the  first  tournament  of  the 

Pacific  Coast  Trap  Shooters'   League 

Held  at  Ingleside,  San  Francisco 

February  22,  23,  24,  1906 

with 

Selby  Shells 

Manufactured  by  the  Selby  Smelting  and  Lead  Co. 


When   Writing  Advertisers   Please    Mention   "WESTERN    FIELD.' 


WEI  I '  BRX  FIELD 


Goldberg,  Bowen  &  Co. 


Gro 


cers 


FIFTY-SEVEN  YEARS  of  conscientious  attention 
to  the  demands  of  those  who  appreciate  good  goods  at  reasonable 
prices,  coupled  Jvith  excellent  service,  three  daily  deliveries  and  the 
acme  of  perfetl  store  attention  are  the  reasons  why  we  to-day  enjoy 
and  asf^    Lne    continued   patronage    of    the    San    Francisco    public 


PER.\fA.\E.\T  LOCATIOSS 

1 244  "Van  !ACess,   near  Sutler 

2829   California,   near    "Devisadero 

1401   Haigbi,   comer  tZXCasonic 

13th  and  Clay.    Oakland 


VENICE  OF  AMERICA 

FINEST  BEACH  RESORT  IN  THE  WORLD. 


ONLY  THIRTY    MINUTES   FROM    LOS  ANGELES 


Blessed  by  Nature,  but  Beautified  by  Man. 

The  good  ship  Cabrillo  and  Auditorium  newly  opened  under 
our   own    management.     Meals  a    la    carte    at    all  hours. 


Daily  Concerts  and  Dancine 


First  -  Class    accommodations    at    Hotel   Windward, 
also  villas  and  bungalows  TO  LET  REASONABLY 


200-yard  Rifle  Range. 


Trap  Shooting  Grounds. 


Practice  Shooting  even,-  Sunday  under  the  auspices  of  Crescent  Bay  Gun  Club. 


When  Writing   Advertisers   Please   Mention   "WESTERN   FIELD.' 


Doing    His  Part 


WESTERN    FIELD 


ST 


\A 


r 


-V3 


**»* 


K  I    WESTERN    FIELD      1 


PUBLISHED    AT    GREATER    SAN    FRANCISCO 


Vol.    11 


OCTOBER,    1907 


No.   3 


V^ 


c* 


AN  AUTUMN  BALLAD 

THERE'S  a  crimson  on  the  gum-tree 
'Mid  the  cedars  on  the  hill; 
From  the  purple-laden  plum-tree 

Sings  the  locust,  lodd  and  shrill;      ' 
Through  the   hickory's  dress   of  yellow 

Frisks  the  squirrel,  up  and  down; 
And  the  hawthorn's  fruit  is  mellow 
When  the  nuts  are  turning  brown. 

All  the  air,   with  music  thrilling. 

Vibrates   over   hill    and   glen; 
From  the  elm-top  comes  the  trilling 

Of  the  wild   ecstatic   wren; 
And  the  gay  lark,  southward  soaring, 

Drops  a  patting  sonnet  down; 
Nature's   cup   is  overpouring 

When  the  nuts  are  turning  brown. 

Ah!   'tis  gladness  now  to  ramble 

O'er   the   russet   covered   ground, 
Through  the  thicket  or  the  bramble 

Rich   in   autumn's   glory   crowned; 
For   felicity  the  sweetest 

Fills  the  soul,  its  cares  to  drown, 
And   our,  living   is   completest 

When  the  nuts  are  turning  brown. 

— Edward   Ellsworth   Hipsher. 


m 

ON  THE   SALT   MARSH 

m 

By  Tom  Veto  b 


[E  eastern  shore  of  the  great- 
est seaport  in  which  Pacific 
waters  ebb  and  flow,  south 
from  where  t  lie  transconti- 
nental railroads  end,  is  low 
and  marshy.  There  the  even 
curves  of  the  rolling  liills  be- 
come straight  as  they  ap- 
proach the  broad  bay,  and  a 
wide  belt  of  dark  grey  salt 
marsh,  miles  long  and  containing  thousands 
of  flat  acre-,  separates  the  land  proper  from 
the  unbroken  waters.  Tins  marshland  is 
laced  with  winding,  shimmering  sloughs 
that  lead  into,  and  through  it,  from  the 
bay — some  large  and  deep  enough  to  ac- 
commodate  a  puffing  launch  at  the  lowest 
ebb,  and  others  so  small  and  shallow  that 
only  the  highest  tides  cover  the  blue  mud 
of  their  bottoms.  Along  these  winding  salt 
streams  grow  water  oats,  and  sometimes 
on  the  higher  marsh  the  dodder  flames,  and 
here  and  there,  away  in  at  the  base  of  the 
brown  hills  where  some  freshwater  stream 
makes  its  way  to  oblivion  in  the  wide 
marsh,  tall  cat-tails  flourish  and  straight 
tules  grow,  rank  on  rank.  And  sometimes 
out  on  the  bay  side  of  the  marsh,  when  the 
wind  and  waves  have  heaped  the  sand  into 
low,  yellow  dunes,  small,  tough,  dwarfed 
bushes  are  found. 

And  this  marsh  is  not  the  dead  moor, 
to  be  regarded  with  awe,  that  many  people 
deem  anymarsh — there  is  animal  and  vege- 
table life  there  the  year  around,  and  the 
moving  life  is  the  most  interesting.  The 
great  brown  rats,  that  can  swim  as  well  as 
they  can  run,  are  always  there;  and  the 
little  busy  marsh  wrens;  and  a  small  throt- 
tled, brown  sparrow,  that  is  a  sociable,  but 
rather  a  quiet,  fellow.  And  at  low  tide 
numberless  little  crabs,  the  largest  the  size 
of  your  hand,  scurry  over  the  smooth  mud 
flats,  or  crawl  this  way  and  that,  sidewise, 
in  search  of  food — leaving  little  trails  in 
the   ooze.  • 


Always  there  may  be  found  animal  life 
there  in  that  great  marsh,  but  it  is  when 
the-  uplands  bave  taken  on  the  dead  tones 
of  winter,  when  the  southeast  wind  sweeps 
the  swirling  rainstorms  over  lowland  and 
hills,  that  it  is  most  plentiful.  Then  the 
waterfowl  haunt  the  sloughs,  and  the 
waders  dot  its  flats,  and  from  the  grasses 
the  rail  calls.  Canvasbacks,  spoonbill,  mal- 
lard, teal,  sprigtail,  now  and  then  a  widgeon, 
golden  eye,  ruddy  ducks,  bluebill,  willets, 
jack-snipe,  rail,  plover,  curlew,  phalaropes — 
all  may  be  found  there  of  a  short  winter 
day.  True,  in  some  portions  of  this  great 
marsh  they  may  be  found  in  greater  pro- 
fusion— for  some  of  this  lowland  is  patri- 
cian, and  some  is  plebeian,  and  some  belongs 
to  the  state;  and  on  this  state  land  is  the 
winter  life  the  scarcest. 

Nevertheless,  there  it  is  that  many  men 
betake  themselves  when  they  feel  that  the 
ducking  pictures  their  minds  have  conjured 
up  after  the  opening  day  must  be  verified — 
and  this  is  of  when   I   was  of  these  many. 

I  remember  how  cold  it  was  early  that 
morning  as  we  stood  on  the  little  landing 
built  of  odds  and  ends  and  waited  for  the 
boatman  to  bring  us  our  skiff  and  wooden 
decoys.  There  were  some  thirty  of  these 
and  they  completely  filled  three  old,  muddy 
sacks  in  the  bow  of  the  boat.  The  sky 
was  overcast  with  a  fairy  filament  of  mist 
that  hardly  obscured  the  light  of  the  stars, 
and  when  we  started  on  our  two-mile  pull 
to  the  reed  blind  there  were  no  signs  of 
dawn  over  the  eastern  hills. 

The  first  mile  of  our  row  was  across  a 
shallow  bay,  and  for  ten  minutes  the  only 
sounds  were  those  of  the  rusty  oarlocks, 
the  dip  of  the  oars,  and  the  soft  dripping 
of  the  water  from  them.  Then  a  great 
splashing  and  whistling  broke  the  stillness 
ahead.  Wc  had  run  into  a  flock  of  canvas- 
back,  and  although  we  could  not  see  them 
we  stopped  and  listened  to  the  whish- 
whishing  of  their  wings  until  it  died  away 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


The  Salt    Marsh 


in  the  distance.  Then  we  rowed  on  as  the 
sky  in  the  east  paled. 

Soon  in  the  dim  half-light  ahead  we  could 
see  the  low,  dark  outline  of  the  marsh.  It 
became  clearer  as  we  approached,  and  we 
headed  for  a  break  in  the  low  wall  where 
we  knew  a  large  slough  entered  the  bay. 
The  tide  was  ebbing,  and  in  the  brighten- 
ing light  we  could  see  smooth,  sloping, 
dark-grey  mud  flats  stretching  along  the 
shore — and  ahead  of  us  a  little  band  of 
willets  arose  from  the  mud,  calling.  Then 
we  were  in  the  slough,  the  mud  banks  on 
either  band,  and  one  almost  continually 
in  front  as  well,  for  the  slough  twisted 
hither  and  thither  with  seldom  more  than 
fifty  yards  of  straightness  in  it. 

Just  as  the  east  was  beginning  to  glow 
we  heard  the  low  calls  of  some  ruddy 
ducks  around  a  bend  ahead,  and  as  I 
dropped  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  in  readi- 
ness my  companion  left  off  his  rowing  and 
started  to  scull.  When  we  swung  around 
the  little  point  of  blue  mud  at  the  bend  we 
came  onto  the  ducks,  and  as  I  arose  two 
golden  eye  started  up.  They  afforded  an 
excellent  chance  for  a  pretty  double,  which 
was  scored.     The  ruddy  ducks,  bewildered. 


did  not  rise  until  I  had  fired  my  second 
barrel.  There  were  four  of  them  and  three 
skimmed  directly  away,  affording  my  com- 
panion no  chance  for  a  shot,  but  the  fourth 
turned  and  swung  past  the  boat.  At  the 
roar  of  the  gun  the  little  brown  ball  whirled 
over,  quite  dead,  and  when  we  picked  it 
up  the  pure  white  patch  by  its  eye  had 
become  red,  explaining  why  the  bird  had 
whirled  so  suddenly. 

We  continued  on  our  way  to  the  blind, 
and  fired  our  guns  but  once  again — at  a 
high-flying  band  of  spoonbills — until  we  ar- 
rived. The  blind  was  built  of  broken  reeds 
and  dead  grasses,  and  was  situated  on  the 
south  bank  of  the  slough  midway  on  a 
stretch  of  some  two  hundred  yards  of  open 
water.  The  decoys  were  all  set,  the  boat 
hidden,  and  we  ourselves  snugly  ensconced 
in  the  blind  before  sunup. 

We  had  been  down  perhaps  five  long 
minutes  when  the  first  shot  came.  It  was 
a  lone  canvasback  and  he  was  in  sight  for 
three  hundred  yards  as  he  came  directly 
toward  the  wooden  lures.  Something  scared 
him  as  he  was  curving  directly  over  us  and  ' 
he  started  to  soar,  but  at  the  second  shot 
he   crumpled   up,   and   the   best   bird   of  the 


If.-' 


IVESTERh   FIELD 


d.  \  short  while 
after  two  teal  whistled  by,  and  one  stopped, 
and  then  it  was  a  full  half  hour  before  our 
guns  were  raised  again,  but  when  we  did 
ilong  their  barrels  it  was  at  the  most 
exciting   moment   of  the  day. 

We  both  <aw  them  at  once — eight  golden 
eye — as  they  swung  low  down  the  slough. 
\\  e  crouched,  and  it  seemed  an  age  before 
we  saw  them  through  the  reeds  putting 
their  feet  out  to  stop  in  the  decoys.  They 
did  not  seem  to  see  us  as  we  rose  and  my 
first  barrel  Stopped  two.  When  the  fusillade 
ended  three  birds  were  dead  in  the  decoys 
and  mj'  partner  was  jumping  up  and  down 
on  the  bank  yelling  to  look  out  for  a 
cripple.  Just  then  directly  in  front  of  him 
the  supposed  cripple  came  up  and  rose  out 
of  the  water  with  an  alacrity  that  denied 
the   presence   of  shot   beneath   its   feathers. 


It  surprised  him  into  a  clean  miss  for  the 

first  barrel,  but  the  second  told,  and  our 
ninth   bird  was  down. 

At  intervals  the  birds  continued  to  come 
for  an  hour — some  more  golden  eye,  a 
brace  of  spoonbills,  a  skimming  score  of 
ruddy  ducks,  half  a  dozen  canvasback,  and 
a  lordly  drake  mallard.  And  then  there 
was  nothing  to  do  for  a  long  time  but  nap, 
and  rest,  and  watch  the  little  crabs  in  the 
mud,  and  the  brown  rats — until  the  evening 
flight. 

When  the  evening  flight  was  finished  and 
thi  darkness  was  fast  settling  we  counted 
our  birds — twenty-six — and  then  started 
down  the  winding  slough  homeward ;  satisfied 
with  our  modest  day's  sport,  tired  and  hungry, 
and  hoping  that  in  the  years  to  come  we 
may  enjoy  sport  as  good  on  the  salt  marsh. 


SUMMIT   LAND 
i. 

IX    YOUR   saddle   firmly  sit, 
1      Give  your  horse  the  rein  and  bit; 
Up  the   rocky  slope  we   go, 
Scrambling   forefeet,   heads  bent   low; 
Over   mossy   logs   and   brown, 
Where  the  springtime  flood  came  down. 
Passing  pines  by  breezes  fanned, 
Zephyrs  straight  from  Summit  Land. 

II. 
Ho!   the  upland  parks  appear, 
Haunt  of  antlered  elk  and  deer. 
Vastly    rolling    grass    plateau, 
Dwarfing  pigmy  plains  below. 
Gallop  far  and  gallop  wide, 
Majesty  on  every  side; 
Peaks  loom  up  now,  close  at  hand, 
Picket  guards  in  Summit  Land. 

III. 
Lo!  the  hush  of  twilight   falls 
On  these   fissured  mountain  walls. 
Every  crest   in  sunset  dips, 
World  below  in  dim  eclipse, 
Eagle's   nestlings   lulled   to   sleep. 
Deep  communes  alone  with  deep. 
Shall   I   see  the  Unseen  Hand 
Draw  the  shades  in   Summit  Land? 

IV. 
Land  of   Silence!      Land  of  Thrall! 
Where   was   fashioned  nothing  small. 
Grand,  serene,  untamed,  you  lie 
In   the  bosom  of  the  sky. 
Ah!  could  you  impart  to  me 
Your   godlike   sublimity, 
I   should  need  no  heights,  to  stand 
All  my  days  in   Summit   Land! 

— Zoe   Hartn 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


In  the   Autun 


THE  LURE  OF  AUTUMN  DAYS 


By  Harry  H.  Dunn 


PRING  draws  me  forth  from  my 
rain-bound  shelter  to  view  a 
world  of  a  thousand  wonders ; 
to  see  where  the  towhee  and  the 
horned  lark  and  the  shrike  and 
the  mockingbird  have  hid  their 
homes ;  to  hear  the  love-call  of 
the  quail,  whistling  "sweetheart, 
sweetheart,"  through  the  brush ; 
to  feel  the  sap  leaping  up  the 
mottled  branches  of  the  greening  sycamores 
and  beneath  the  rough  bark  of  the  lowland 
willows ;  to  lie  on  sprouting  sod  beneath  a 
branching,  heavy-canopied  oak  whose  solemn 
stolidity  is  broken  by  the  wandering  winds 
that  shake  it  into  laughter  above  my  head. 

With  the  summer  comes  the  infinite  mystery 
of  new  life:  the  rabbit  with  her  young  in  their 
grassy  "form"  beneath  the  willow  tangle,  the 
quail  with  her  downy  brood  scattering  to  the 
four  winds  of  heaven  at  the  cry  of  alarm,  the 
never-silent  oriole  family,  pendant  in  their 
woven  cradle  from  the  very  tip  of  some  syca- 


more or  eucalyptus-branch ;  and,  more  than  all 
the  rest,  the  occasional  glimpse  of  things  un- 
known which  comes  to  the  wanderer  in  sum- 
mer. 

But  it  is  autumn  that  draws  my  heart ! 
Autumn  with  her  red-hot  days,  cold  nights  and 
sweeping  winds  that  freeze  or  sear.  Then  the 
corn  fields,  their  golden  shocks  in  orderly 
array,  with  gleaming  pumpkins  in  between, 
whisper  of  cornbread  and  pumpkin  pies — for 
even  in  Our  Italy  the  things  of  the  flesh  be- 
times intrude  themselves  like  a  spade  in  four 
hearts. 

Autumn  cornfields,  however,  hove  another 
use  besides  sheltering  pumpkins:  They  shelter 
unnumbered  hordes  of  doves.  Time  was  when 
I  did  not  know  this,  when  I  passed  by  the  corn- 
field for  the  wheat  stubble ;  but  now  I  know 
different.  I  don't  shoot  many  doves,  albeit  I 
like  to  eat  them,  because  I  cannot  bring  myself 
to  believe  them  a  game  bird,  but  this  is  the 
way  I  got  acquainted  with  the  cornfield  and 
the  doves. 


164 


117  STERN  FIELD 


An   Auti: 


al  Afterglo 


All  round  this  cornfield,  which  did  not  cover 
more  than  ten  acres,  was  wheat  and  barley 
stubble.  In  it  guns  were  popping — half  a 
dozen  at  every  harried  dove  that  drove  head- 
long from  its  evening  watering  place  to  a  roost 
in  the  oak-grown  hills  that  everywhere  lay 
roundabout.  I  started  through  the  cornfield, 
down  the  track  made  by  a  broad  bedded  wagon 
into  whose  maw  the  farmer  had  swooped  the 
ripened  ears.  At  the  first  shock  there  was  the 
flutter  of  wings  and  a  dove  rose,  moved  to  the 
third  tower  of  dried  stalks  and  dropped  to 
earth  again. 

I  was  surprised ;  doves  are  not  corn-eaters, 
but  here  were  doves  in  the  cornfield.  There 
may  be  "nature-fakers",  but  there  are  no 
natural  fakes.  Behind  every  trick  in  the  out- 
doors there's  a  reason.  The  little  sixteen 
slipped  over  into  my  right  arm,  my  thumb 
slid  the  safety  back  and  when,  at  the  next 
corn  shock,  three  doves  got  up,  I  dropped  one 
and  missed  clean  with  the  other  barrel. 

The  shot  seemed  to  stir  up  a  million  of  the 
birds.  They  were  everywhere,  apparently  just 
resting  and  hiding  out  from  the  hunters  who 
made  a  fringe  around  their  customary  feeding 
ground.    I  examined  the  crops  of  the  six  doves 


which  I  killed  that  evening  and  found  not  a 
grain  of  corn  in  any  one.  It  was  evident  they 
had  not  been  feeding  in  the  corn  field,  though 
their  crops  were  fairly  filled  with  the  black, 
buckwheat-like  seeds  of  the  turkey  mullein, 
the  favorite  food  of  mourning  doves  through- 
out the  southwest. 

Suspecting  that  the  birds  might  be  feeding 
on  seeds  other  than  corn,  I  searched  the  parts 
of  the  plot  in  which  I  hunted,  finding  not  even 
one  plant  of  fireweed  nor  one  of  turkey  mul- 
lein. The  birds,  then,  had  gotten  "wise"  to 
the  schemes  of  the  hunters  and  had  taken  to 
the  cornfield,  while  others,  not  so  skilled  in 
the  art  of  saving  their  lives,  flew  overhead  to 
make  pot-pies  for  the  hunters. 

Undoubtedly  these  cornfield  birds  fed  at 
night  or  in  the  early  forenoon — another  trick 
they  must  have  learned  for  themselves  and 
a  habit  totally  foreign  to  the  daily  life  of  the 
dove  family.  None  of  the  hunters  had  thought 
to  search  for  their  game  in  the  corn  field,  and 
I  stumbled  upon  a  novel  phase  of  bird  life  all 
because  the  autumn  had  called  me,  not  be- 
cause I  shot  doves  for  pleasure  or  for  meat. 

Don't  you  know,  too,  that  there  is  a  peculiar 
flavor  to  the  air  of  the  after-months   of  the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


165 


year.  Autumn,  even  in  the  Lands  of  the  Sun, 
is  a  sort  of  freshening  time,  a  bracing  up  for 
the  rainy  season  which  is  to  garb  all  nature 
anew  for  the  summer  season. 

It  seems  good  just  to  be  out.  The  fringe 
of  green-leaved  acacia  trees  around  father's 
place  is  heavy  with  masses  of  fuzzy  golden 
balls  of  bloom.  In  the  hills  the  "Spanish 
Daggers"  are  rearing  last  long  shafts  of 
creamy  bells  to  the  sun;  and  where  the  creek 
babbles  through  the  willows  and  water  beeches 
and  sycamores,  here  and  there  a  scarlet  bugle 
splashes  the  greens  and  grays  with  its  sudden 
burst  of  fire. 

The  very  air  of  Autumn  breathes  such  magic 
words  as  "quail!"  and  "rabbit!"  In  the  dust 
of  the  road  you  see  the  queer,  scratched  hiero- 
glyphs of  the  cottontail ;  even  in  the  suburbs  of 
town,  where  there  are  plenty  of  dogs  and  boys, 
the  script  in  the  dust  shows  many  and  many  a 
bunny.  In  the  day-times  they  hide  in  the 
hedges,  in  the  berry  vines,  in  the  alfalfa 
patches  and  even  under  the  houses. 

From  the  thickets,  out  of  the  vacant  spaces 
where  one  would  little  dream  of  their  exist- 
ence, the  three-toed  tracks  of  the  quail  lead  up 
and  down  and  across  the  road,  never  seeming 
to  have  any  business  anywhere  with  anybody, 
but  disappearing  a  mile  or  two  farther  on  into 
the  hills  when  day  creeps  out  to  let  the  world 
free. 

And  every  time  you  take  a  trip  down  a  coun- 
try road  in  the  autumn  you  are  convinced  that 
the  boys  of  today  are  not  made  of  the  same 
stuff  that  you  and  I  and  the  boys  of  "our"  day 
were  made.  If  they  were,  you  argue,  there 
wouldn't  be  so  many  quail  tracks ;  and  there 
would  be  a  few  rabbit  snares  among  the  rows 
of   blackberries — a    few    old-fashioned    "rigger 


four"  traps  down  by  the  sweetcorn  patch,  and 
some  of  those  other  trifles  that  we  as  boys 
took  as  a  matter  of  course  and  to  which  we  as 
'  men  would  give  ten  years  of  our  lives  to 
return. 

Ever  shoot  cottontails  in  the  California  hills 
in  the  fall?  Just  after  the  first  or  second 
rain,  I  mean,  when  the  grass  is  up  half  an 
inch  or  so  and  every  rabbit  sits  up  clear  cut 
against  the  hill,  just  out  of  range  of  the  shot- 
gun, but  a  fine  target  for  the  .22  or  the  .25-20. 
There  is  one  of  the  finest  games  of  the  out- 
doors, one  of  the  prime  allurements  of  the 
autumn  time. 

I  used  to  have  a  dog,  little  and  not  much 
to  look  at,  but  a  terror  to  rabbits  and  ground 
squirrel.  He  is  gone  now — may  Cerberus,  who 
guards  the  Styx,  rest  his  ashes — but  in  life 
he  was  the  gamest  little  thoroughbred  that  ever 
lived.  His  squirrel  record  for  one  day  was 
eleven ;  his  rabbit  list,  with  my  puny  efforts 
added,  six ;  and  the  beauty  of  him  was  that  he 
needed  no  gun. 

If  he  ever  spotted'  a  squirrel  twenty  feet 
from  his  hole,  that  rodent  might  as  well  send 
in  his  book  and  bid  his  friends  a  last  adieu. 
There  was  a  whirlwind  run,  a  snap  of  sharp 
teeth  in  vice-like  little  jaws,  a  squeak  and  all 
was  over. 

Sometimes  he  got.  a  rabbit  this  way;  more 
often  we,  this  dog  and  I,  dug  them  out  of  their 
burrows  or  pulled  them  from  little  caves  with 
long  sticks ;  but  whatever  we  did,  we  got  the 
rabbits  and  we  usually  went  after  them  in  the 
fall,  in  that  California  autumn  which  is  just 
as  dear  to  us  who  know  California  as  is 
Thanksgiving  time  to  those  who  dwell  to  the 
east  of  the  great  mountains. 


loo 


WESTERN  FIELD 


2 


QUAIL 


COFTLY!     See,  far  ahead,  across  our  way, 

^     Those  silent  forms  pass  swiftly  out  of  sight, 

So   noiseless  that  the  breezes  seem  affright, 
Breathless  a  moment   ere  the  leaves  they  sway. 
In  all  their  war-paint's  glorious  array, 

With    feathered   head-dress   nodding  in  the   light, 

They  glide  before  us  like  a  vision  bright, 
And  as  a  vision  swiftly  are  away. 
But  now  and  then  among  the  vines  and  brush 

A  dusky  form  seems  darting  to  and  fro. 
Was  that  a  waving  scalp-lock  on  the  rush? 

What  is  it  stus  beside  that  bush,  there,  low? 

Then   lightning-like   and   thunder-loud,   and,   oh! — 
The  heart  stands  still — ah! — valley  quail  at  flush. 

— Charles  Elmer  Jenney. 


ENGLISH 


(s 


=D 


SPORT 


G 


=£> 


By 


PART  III.     DEER  STALKING 


EER-STALKING  may  be  placed 
high,  if  not  the  very  highest 
on  the  list  of  British  sports, 
for  it  is  without  a  shadow  of  a 
doubt  one  of  the  most  exciting 
and  exhilarating  outdoor  pur- 
suits. Before  entering  upon  a 
detailed  description  of  the  habits 
of  Scottish  deer,  and  the  manner 
of  stalking  them,  I  will 
endeavor  to  give  my  readers  an  idea  of  the 
country  upon  which  these  deer  have  their 
habitat. 

Most  sportsmen  on  this  side  the  Atlantic, 
who  have  read  articles  dealing  with  Scottish 
sport,  will  have  noticed  that  the  term  "forest" 
is  used  when  speaking  of  ground  upon  which 
deer  are  found.  To  the  uninitiated,  this  word 
may  lead  them  to  believe  that  the  Scottish 
deer  inhabit  a  wooded  country,  «s  is  the 
case  in  America  and  Canada,  but  in  reality 
such  is  far  from  being  the  case.  In  a  typical 
Scotch  deer  forest,  trees  are  chiefly  "con- 
spicuous by  their  absence."  Many  of  the  best 
known  "forests"  have  a  peculiar  wild  and  pic- 
turesque grandeur  of  their  own,  but  as  an 
example  of  the  average  ground  used  for  pur- 
poses of  deer-stalking,  the  reader  may  imagine 


a  district  very  similar  to  the  foothill  country, 
bordering  any  of  the  large  American  moun- 
tain ranges,  covered  with  heather  and  yellow- 
ish colored  grass. 

A  burn  should  ripple  down  every  small 
ravine,  and  a  river  dash  through  every  canon, 
with  the  addition  of  a  dozen  or  two  lochs 
scattered  here  and  there  throughout  the  whole, 
then  the  picture  of  a  typical  Scotch  deer 
forest  will  be  complete.  In  technical  parlance, 
a  deer  forest  is  land  cleared  of  sheep  and 
carefully  preserved  for  red  deer.  The  best 
of  the  Scotch  forests  are  "cleared"  or  forested 
ground,  while  there  is  an  immense  acreage 
which  carries  both  sheep  and  deer,  often  made 
up  of  sheep  walks  "marching"  with  or  ad- 
joining some  regular  forest,  land  which  in 
many  cases  is  preferred  by  the  deer,  owing  to 
the  better  and  sweeter  grass,  as  also  greater 
shelter,  which  such  land  often  contains. 

All  such  country,  as  above  described,  is 
preserved,  but  very  little  of  it  is  fenced  in. 
In  each  forest  there  is  what  is  termed  a 
"sanctuary,"  which  is  seldom  or  never  dis- 
turbed ;  and  in  it  the  big  stags  congregate, 
wandering  farther  away  from  it  as  the  rutting 
season  approaches  and  the  end  of  September 
draws  near. 


168 


II  I  STEM   FIELD 


\  m;ik  when  laid  low  by  the  bullel  of  the 
stalker,  belongs  to  the  person  upon 
land  it  is  killed,  which  brings  t"  but  notice 
an  important  feature  of  deer-stalking,  namely, 
i lu  necessity  of  keeping  deer  on  one's  own 
land  whenever  possible,  and  not  driving  them 
across  the  "march,"  or  boundary  line,  into  a 
neighbor's    forest.     Although    to    the    casual 

reader  Of  articles  on  Scottish  stalking,  the 
successful  killing  of  a  stag  may  seem  a  tame 
affair  when  compared  to  the  chase  of  the  wild 
American  deer,  I  may  safely  state  thai  such  is 
not  the  case,  for  there  are  but  few  if  anj  men 
on  this  side  of  the  water,  unused  to  Scotch 
stalking,  who  could  successfully  approach  deer 
on  a  forest  without  the  assistance  of  a  pro- 
fi'ssionnl  stalker.  A  Scottish  red  deer  is  ex- 
tremely cunning,  for  he  and  his  ancestors  have 
been  hunted  for  generations,  which  serves  to 
sharpen  his  wits  and  make  him  most  difficult 
of  approach. 

Practically  the  whole  of  the  Scotch  High- 
lands are  cut  up  into  shootings  and  fishings, 
which  are  leased  to  sportsmen  at  varying 
rentals,  amounting  in  many  instances  to  thou- 
sands of  pounds.  A  big  forest,  with  a  grouse 
moor  and  salmon-river  attached,  and  a  large 
mansion,  where  every  year  a  hundred  stags 
are  killed,  will  let  for  a  sum  of  money  quite 
as  large  as  the  salary  of  an  American  Presi- 
dent. Such  princely  shootings  are.  not  for  the 
man  of  small  means,  and  unless  he  may  have 
friends  in  "high  places,"  he  will  have  to  con- 
tent himself  with  something  less  ambitious. 
Fortunately  for  such  a  man,  there  are  scores 
of  shootings  to  be  rented,  upon  which  the 
limit  of  stags  allowed  to  be  killed  is  from 
eight  to  ten.  Such  stalking  usually  goes  with 
a  grouse  moor,  and  in  many  cases  the  lessee 
of  the  moor  will  be  glad  to  sublet  the  stalking. 


which  commences  when  the  best  of  the  grouse 

shooting  is   over. 

I  f  such  a  piece  of  ground  can  be  thus  ob- 
tained, by  advertising  in  the  leading  London 
-porting  journals,  quite  good  sport  may  be 
had.  A  competent  professional  stalker  will 
bi  provided  by  the  lessor,  and  a  gillie  and 
pony  may  be  hired'  for  the  season  at  the  cost 
of  a  few  pounds.  An  American  sportsman, 
leasing  such  a  shooting  could,  with  fifteen  hun- 
dred dollars,  go  over  to  Scotland  and  return 
after  three  weeks'  stalking,  and  the  killing  of 
eight  or  ten  good  stags.  Having  thus  given 
my  readers  some  idea  of  the  country  which  is 
the  home  of  the  red  deer,  I  will  try  to  de- 
scribe the  habits  of  these  deer,  and  the 
methods  employed  to  bring  them  to  hand. 

The  red-deer  stag  of  Scotland  (CervUS 
elaphus)  is  in  appearance  closely  akin  to  an 
American  wapiti,  although  a  smaller  beast  in 
both  horns  and  body.  In  this  article  I  will 
not  enter  into  a  long  and  detailed  account  of 
the  habits  of  deer  and  their  natural  history, 
but  rather  allude  to  such  traits  as  are  very 
necessary  for  every  one  to  know  who  goes 
stalking  on  a  forest. 

As  every  hunter  knows,  deer  must  be  ap- 
proached up  wind  or  on  a  side  wind.  The 
actual  distance  at  which  the  red  deer  will 
take  the  wind  is  rather  uncertain,  but  with 
anything  like  a  strong  wind  it  is  unsafe  to 
go  within  a  mile  of  them,  and  in  a  gale  a 
mile  and  a  half  is  not  too  far  for  this  keen- 
nosed  beast  to  wind  his  pursuers.  For  more 
than  an  hour  after  a  person  has  passed  by, 
deer  will  not  easily  cross  the  tracks,  on  ac- 
count of  the  hanging  scent.  Deer  always 
move  up  wind  when  feeding,  and  if  disturbed, 
whatever  direction  they  may  at  first  take,  they 
will  always  finally  turn  and  run  up  into  the 
wind  again.  Owing  to  this  trait,  on  some 
forests  stalking  is  out  of  the  question  on  days 
when  the  wind  is  in  a  certain  quarter,  for  fear 
of  driving  the  deer  across  a  neighbor's  march. 

In  certain  places  on  many  forests,  it  is  quite 
impossible  to  stalk  and  "get  in"  to  deer  on 
account  of  the  eddies  formed  by  the  wind, 
no  matter  from  which  direction  it  may  be 
blowing,  and  in  such  places,  in  many  cases,  no 
one  has  ever  been  known  to  successfully  stalk 
and  kill  a  stag.  Of  course,  under  such  circum- 
stances it  is  best  to  make  the  attempt,  and 
trust  to  the  deer  moving  to  a  better  and  more 
approachable  position.  In  the  middle  of  the 
day  deer   lie  down,   and  often   remain  so  for 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


169 


two  or  three  hours;  and  when  stalking  them, 
it  is  often  necessary  when  within  shot,  to  lie 
perfectly  quiet  until  the  chosen  beast  rises  and 
offers  a  fair  chance. 

When  thus  lying,  in  a  cold  wind  and  pos- 
sibly on  wet  ground,  it  requires  considerable 
patience  to  refrain  from  taking  a  long  shot 
ami  probably  spoiling  the  whole  stalk.  When 
deer  lie  on  a  steep  hillside,  the  biggest 
stays  are  usually  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill, 
with  the  smaller  ones  and  the  hinds  above 
them.  When  lying  in  this  position  they  usually 
look  straight  down-hill,  and  will  be  found  on 
the  sheltered  side  of  the  valley,  if  there  is  a 
wind  blowing.  In  such  a  case  the  wind  comes 
over  the  top  of  them,  on  the  face  where  they 
lie,  making  an  approach  on  them  almost  im- 
possible. To  get  in  at  them  up  wind  from 
below  is  out  of  the  question.  Should  there 
be  stags  outlying  from  the  herd,  a  stalk  from 
the  top  of  the  hill  and  to  one  side  may  be 
successful. 

On  a  very  steep  face,  with  a  strong  wind 
blowing,  a  successful  stalk  may  be  made  down 
wind,  as  the  scent  will  in  all  likelihood  be 
blown  clean  over  the  heads  of  the  deer  lying 
below ;  though  in  most  cases  the  deer  will 
get  the  stalker's  wind.  When  in  large  herds, 
the  sentinel  work  is  left  to  the  hinds,  and  un- 
less alarmed  the  sight  of  either  stags  or  hinds 
is  not  very  acute.  Once  scare  them,  however, 
and  they  will  not  rest  until  their  curiosity  is 
satisfied ;  and  they  circle  around  until  they 
catch  the  wind  of  the  intruder. 

Deer  always  prefer  to  face  a  danger,  the 
nature  of  which  they  have  previously  ascer- 
tained, rather  than  run  the  gauntlet  of  an  un- 
known and  half-perceived  one.  This  accounts 
for  many  deer  drives  going  wrong,  for  the 
deer  will  break  back  through  the  line  of 
drivers,  should  a  shot  be  fired  too  soon  by  any 
of  the  waiting  rifles,  and  they  will  rush  the 
line  of  yelling  drivers,  rather  than  face  the 
unknown  danger  ahead. 

•  On  a'  fine,  calm  day  deer  will  not  move  so 
far  as  on  a  cold  or  windy  one,  and  on  such 
windy  days,  it  is  no  uncommon  sight  to  see 
deer  rush  off  at  a  gallop  for  no  apparent  cause 
whatever.  On  such  days,  unless  the  wind  is 
right  for  the  forest,  it  is  better  to  leave  stalk- 
ing alone,  rather  than  run  the  risk  of  driving 
deer  right  off  the  ground. 

In  warm  weather  stags  lie  upon  the  highest 
hills,  but  in  bad  weather  they  will  be  found 
on    the    lower    ground.       They     watch     other 


creatures,  such  as  grouse,  ptarmigan,  hares, 
foxes,  ravens,  etc.,  and  should  any  such  ani- 
mals or  birds  be  disturbed  by  man,  the  deer  at 
once  take  the  alarm,  although  when  the  same 
creatures  are  passing  them  in  their,  natural 
daily  round,  deer  take  no  notice  of  them  at 
all.  When  stalking  ground  not  cleared  of 
sheep,  these  animals  are  very  apt  to  alarm  the 
deer,  as  they  rush  wildly  away  on  viewing  the 
approaching  stalker.  The  only  way  to  stop 
this,  is  to  lie  quiet  until  the  sheep  have  looked 
until  tired,  after  which  they  will  often  feed 
quietly  away. 


Tlie  Deer 

Occasionally  during  the  course  of  a  stalk,  a 
few  hinds  will  be  found  in  some  hollow  of  the 
ground,  directly  between  the  stalker  and  his 
quarry,  around  which  it  is  quite  impossible  to 
creep  without  being  seen.  Such  hinds,  if  not 
in  sight  of  the  chosen  stag,  may  be  moved 
successfully  out  of  the  way  by  a  low  whistle, 
or  showing  the  tip  of  a  stick,  and  gently  wav- 
ing it;  though  very  often  the  hinds  move  right 
off  to  the  deer  which  the  stalker  is  after,  and 
will  rouse  them  and  take  them  off  also ;  but 
very  often  the  ruse  works,  and  the  "rubbish," 


WESTERN  FIELD 


as  a  stalker  would  call  them,  are  successfully 
moved  out  of  the  way  without  alarming  the 
other  deer. 

Having  given  the  reader  an  idea  of  both  the 
ground  stalked  and  the  habits  of  the  deer, 
which  every  stalker  should  know,  we  will 
turn  to  the  equipment  needful  to  carry  out  a 
successful  stalk. 

In  the  "eighties",  and  even  later  than-  that, 
the  double-barreled  .540  breech-loading  ex- 
press rifle  was  the  weapon  usually  carried  by 
the  deer-stalker.  In  these  modern  days,  how- 
ever, the  black  powder  guns  have  given  place 
to  the  high  velocity,  small-bore  rifles.  Sights 
and  other  details  may  be  left  to  individual  re- 
quirements. The  rifle  is  always  carried  in  a 
cover  of  some,  fairly  stiff  material,  such  as 
canvas,  unbuckled  at  the  opening,  to  allow  of 
the  rifle  being  quickly  withdrawn  for  a  shot. 
Such  covers  are  necessary,  owing  to  the  long 
crawls  which  have  often  to  be  taken  through 
wet  and  dirty  ground. 

Next  to  the  rifle,  the  most  important  item 
of  the  outfit  is  a  good  telescope,  for  spying 
deer  at  a  distance.  A  glass  with  a  large  field 
and   sharp   definition   should  be  purchased,  as 


deer  at  a  distance,  when  using  a  glass  with  a 
small  field,  are  very  easily  passed  over  when 
"spying." 

With  regard  to  the  clothing  suitable  for 
stalking,  a  cloth  should  be  chosen  rather 
neutral  in  color,  which  will  harmonize  with 
the  general  color  of  the  ground  and  surround- 
ing-.. Stuff  which  does  not  turn  black  when 
wet  should  be  used,  and  good  flannel  shirts 
worn  instead  of  linen  ones.  Thick,  well-fitting 
woolen  stockings,  with  either  boots  or  shoes, 
well  nailed,  should  also  be  worn,  and  loose 
knickerbockers  which  do  not  impede  free 
knee-action  when  climbing  or  crawling.  The 
cap  should  fit  close  to  the  head  and  be  of  the 
same  neutral  color  as  the  coat  and  knicker- 
bockers. Pockets  should  all  be  made  to  but- 
ton, otherwise  in  a  crawl  or  a  slither  down 
hill,  knife,  flask,  pipe,  etc.,  are  very  apt  to 
fall  out  and  be  lost.  An  old  cover  coat  or  a 
light  cape  may  be  taken  as  an  extra  wrap,  any 
heavier  article  making  too  big  a  load  for  your 
stalker,  if  but  you  and  he  are  out  alone.  Some 
of  the  natives  of  Scotland  wear  the  kilt  when 
out  on  the  hill,  but  I  advise  all  those  not 
acclimatized  to  such  apparel  to  stick  to  the 
above-mentioned  outfit. 

A  gillie  and  a  pony  can  be  hired  for  about 
two  guineas  a  week,  and  the  money  is  well 
spent ;  for  when  finishing  a  stalk  ten  miles 
from  home,  the  advent  of  the  pony  is  an 
agreeable  sight  in  the  evening,  especially 
should  the  weather  be  cold  or  wet.  The 
ponies  are  very  sure-footed,  and  once  having 
been  over  a  trail,  no  matter  how  rough,  they 
will  take  their  rider  safely  over  it  on  the  dark- 
est night,  if  he  will  give  them  their  heads  and 
let  them  pick  the  way. 

If  a  man  leads  an  open  air  life  in  the  off 
season,  with  plenty  of  exercise,  he  will  be  in 
fair  condition  when  the  stalking  begins ;  but  if 
not  in  good  trim  he  should  go  easy  at  first 
and  not  overdo  it.  The  professional  stalkers 
are  always  in  condition  and  extremely  good 
hill  walkers,  so  it  is  best  to  stop  now  and 
then  "to  admire  the  view"  rather  than  strain 
the  heart  in  an  attempt  to  "live"  with  the 
stalker  at  a  four-mile  clip  up  a  steep  hill. 

Carry  but  a  small  lunch,  but  make  a  good 
breakfast,  and  finish  with  a  good  dinner  at 
night,  and  drink  hardly  anything  during  the 
day,  however  great  the  temptation  to  stop  at 
every  burn  or  stream.  Whiskey  is  the  usual 
liquid  in  the  flask,  and  should  the  sportsman 
prefer  some  "soft"  drink,  such  as  cold  tea — 
which  is  certainly  good — he  should  carry  a 
horn  or  two  of  whiskey  for  his  stalker  in  case 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


171 


of  a  successful  kill,  albeit  there  are  some 
stalkers  as  well  as  their  masters  who  prefer 
tea  or  some  other  temperance  drink,  and  such 
men  very  often  are  the  best  walkers,  as  well 
as  the  best  stalkers. 

With  reference  to  smoking,  I  would  not 
advise  the  novice  to  light  his  pipe  at  the  foot 
of  a  fifteen-hundred-foot  hill,  as  professional 
stalkers  often  do,  puffing  at  strong,  black 
"twist",  while  they  steadily  mount  the  ascent. 
It  is  better  to  wait  until  a  halt  is  called  at 
some  convenient  spot,  for  what  is  a  pleasure 
to  the  stalker  will  not  always  be  the  same  to 
his  "gentleman."  The  latter  word  is  applied 
to  the  man  whom  the  stalker  is  piloting  on  the 
hill ;  each  stalker  looks  after  and  brings  his 
"gentleman"  in  to  deer. 

Let  us  suppose  that  a  fine  day  has  dawned 
and  everything  is  in  readiness  for  a  start  from 
the  lodge.  Cartridges,  coat,  flask,  lunch,  pipe 
and  tobacco  are  all  in  their  separate  pockets, 
for  in  some  parts  of  the  Highlands  it  is  con- 
sidered a  sign  of  bad  luck  to  have  to  turn 
back  for  anything;  and  if  compelled  to  do  so 
some  stalkers  are  quite  put  out  for  the  rest  of 
the  day.  Should  you  perchance,  forget 
tobacco  or  lunch,  it  is  best,  if  accompanied  by 
such  a  superstitious  stalker,  to  refrain  from 
going  back,  for  he  will  be  only  too  proud  to 
share  his  "piece"  or  his  black  tobacco  with 
you. 

Once  started,  an  hour  or  so  on  pony-back  or 
afoot  brings  you  to  the  spying-stone,  or  place 
from  which  it  is  usual  to  take  the  first  spy  of 
the  ground  to  be  stalked.  It  is  a  by  no  means 
easy  task  to  search  a  corrie  properly  with  a 
glass.  If  but  a  gentle  breeze  is  stirring,  the 
walking  stick  will  give  sufficient  support  if 
planted  firmly  in  the  earth,  to  rest  the  glass 
against.  The  best  position  is  to  lie  nearly 
flat  on  the  back,  with  a  tussock  or  stone  to 
rest  the  shoulders  against ;  then  drawing  up 
the  knees,  hold  the  glass  firmly  against  the 
left  knee,  and  even  in  a  high  wind  you  can 
thus  keep  it  perfectly  steady.  Practice  alone 
will  make  a  man  perfect  at  the  art  of  "picking 
up"  deer  with  the  glass,  but  keeping  the  glass 
perfectly  immovable  is  the  first  thing  to  ensure 
success.  Men  who  considered  they  knew  how 
to  use  a  glass  well  for  picking  up  game  in  the 
open,  have  been  woefully  undeceived  when 
first  out  with  a  Scotch  stalker,  who  could  pick 
up  his  deer  amongst  the  peat  haps  and  stones 
at  a  distance  of  one  and  a  half  or  even  two 
miles ;  and  even  when  the  exact  position  of 
the  deer  is  pointed  out  to  the  novice,  he  will 


often  have  to  wait  until  a  nearer  approach 
is  made,  ere  he  can  see  the  deer  through  his 
own  glass. 

It  is  of  great  importance  when  using  a  glass 
with  a  bright  sun  overhead,  never  to  let  the 
sun's  rays  shine  on  the  lens  of  the  telescope, 
or  the  deer  will- be  treated  to  a  firework  dis- 
play, which  will  most  effectually  cause  them  to 
leave  the  ground  in  a  hurry. 

Having  found  deer,  it  is  advisable  to  put 
yourself  completely  into  the  hands  of  your 
stalker,  for  without  an  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  ground — a  knowledge  acquired  by  being 
on  the  ground  for  years — it  is  impossible,  ex- 
cept by  the  merest  fluke,  to  manage  the  stalk 
alone.  After  a  little  experience  it  may  be  pos- 
sible to  do  the  last  two  or  three  hundred 
yards  alone,  but  often  this  has  to  be  done  again 
and  even  retraced  two  or  three  times,  whereas 
if  left  to  the  stalker,  that  worthy  will  take  you 
in  without  a  single  halt.  As  time  is  all-im- 
portant in  the  getting  of  an  easy  shot,  or  pos- 
sibly no  shot  at  all,  it  is  therefore  the  best 
policy  to  let  your  stalker  lead  the  way. 

When  crawling  on  flat  ground,  go  head 
first,  but  on  a  steep  grade,  feet  first,  keeping 
the  legs  flat  when  on  level  ground  so  that 
they  do  not  show  above  the  level  of  the  head. 
A  real  good  stalker  w.ill  creep  in  on  ground 
that  only  allows  him  to  be  a  few  inches  out  of 
his  quarry's  sight,  and  nothing  is  more  dis- 
heartening to  him  than  to  find  at  the  end  of 
a  long  and  difficult  crawl,  his  "gentleman"  has 
been  on  hands  and  knees  when  he  has  been 
flat  on  his  stomach,  in  consequence  of  which 
at  the  last  critical  moment,  the  deer  are 
startled  and  put  away.  A  certain  sportsman 
once  did  this,  and  on  asking  his  stalker  what 
could  have  put  the  deer  away,  the  man  gruffly 
answered,  "Why,  you  was  just  wa-alking  when 
I  was  cra-aling." 

Stag  fever,  like  "buck  fever"  on  this  side  of 
the  Atlantic,  will  often  attack  the  novice,  but 
time  and  a  few  bad  misses  will  soon  alter  this. 

For  three  or  four  hours  has  the  sportsman 
walked,  run,  crawled,  and  crept,  besides  wait- 
ing patiently  until  the  stag  offers  a  fair  chance 
of  a  shot.  Should  the  beast  be  broadside  on, 
put  the  rifle  on  the  inside  line  of  the  fore-leg, 
raise  it  slowly  up  till  the  leg  joins  the  body, 
then  when  you  "see  brown"  squeeze  the  trig- 
ger. In  shooting  down-hill,  sit  up  and  plant 
the  heels  firmly  in  the  ground,  resting  both 
elbows  on  the  thighs  ;  for  an  up-hill  shot,  always 
find  a  stone  or  tussock  of  grass,  lie  flat  behind 
it,  and  poke  the  rifle  round  it.     Always  crawl 


172 


II  1  s//:A'.\    FIELD 


in  and  get  a  real  up-hill,  for  it  is  not  easj  to 

shoot  otherwise  or  hold  the  rifle  steady. 

In  shooting  at  moving  door,  practice  alone 
will  tell  the  novice  how  far  to  hold  ahead  of 
his  quarry.  A  good  rule  to  follow  is  to  shoot 
Straight  at  a  walking  deer;  at  one  trotting, 
lire  at  the  point  of  the  shoulder,  and  if  trotting 
fast,  barely  sec  daylight  ahead  of  him.  When 
a  deer  is  on  the  dead  run.  two  or  three  feet 
should  be  allowed  ahead  of  it.  For  crossing 
shots  in  a  gale,  allowance  must  of  course  be 
made  for  windage. 

The  above  rules  apply  to  distances  of  from 
eighty  to  a  hundred  and  twenty  yards,  though 
with  the  high  power  modern  rifles,  some  little 
difference  may  occur;  but  with  an  express,  the 
above  facts  hold  good. 

Long  shots  should  not  be  attempted,  at  least 
not  very  long  ones,  and  should  one  miss  with 
the  first  two  shots,  it  is  a  bad  plan  to  empty 
the  magazine  at  the  retreating  deer,  for  it 
only  disturbs  the  ground,  and  there  is  a 
chance  of  killing  a  small  beast  or  a  calf,  which 
a  stalker  will  good  naturedly  offer  to  bury 
rather  than  undergo  the  stream  of  chaff  and 
banter  should  it  be  carried  home  to  the  larder. 
When  a  miss  with  the  first  two  shots  takes 
place,  keep  down  and  wait  patiently,  for  deer 
sometimes  circle  round  and  will  offer  an- 
other good  chance.  Do  not  fire  through  wav- 
ing grass  when  lying  down,  as  it  is  a  fertile 
source  of  bad  misses. 

Should  you 'be  overcome  with  an  irresistible 
desire  to  sneeze  or  choke  at  the  critical 
moment,  bury  your  face  in  the  peat  and  ex- 
plode in  that  way.  peat  stains  soon  wash  off. 
and  even  though  you  may  look  like  a  nigger 
after  the  operation,  it  is  better  than  losing  a 
shot.  By  tossing  tufts  of  cotton  grass  into 
the  air  on  a  calm  day,  or  by  wetting  the  finger, 
what  little  breeze  there  is  may  be  thus  located. 
When  taking  close  shots,  be  sure  to  hold  very 
fine  at  the  heart,  or  hold  a  coarser  bead  just 
on  the  under  outline  of  the  body  below  the 
heart.  More  shots  are  missed  at  close  range 
by  overshooting  than  would  be  supposed  by  a 
person  uninitiated  in  the  art  of  handling  a 
rifle. 

When  a  deer  is  badly  wounded  and  cannot 
rise,  be  careful  how  you  approach,  for  a  vicious 
sweep  of  his  horns  or  his  fore-feet  may  re- 
ward your  rashness.  Deer-hounds  are  used 
to  capture  wounded  deer,  as  are  also  collies, 
the  latter  being  extremely  good  at  the  busi- 
ness, and  they  will  "hold  the  bay"  beautifully 
when  they  get  up  to  the  wounded  animal.     It 


is  a  line  sight   to   -.  ,,f  deer-hounds 

run  in  and  pull  down  their  stag,  but  many  dogs 
are  thus  killed  or  badly  injured,  and  as  a  rule 
it  is  better  to  have  dogs  which  will  hold 
their  stag  at  bay,  until  the  shooter  comes  up, 
rather  than  run  the  risk  of  injury  by  dashing 
in  to  hold. 

The  weight  of  deer  varies  in  different  forests 
according  to  the  food  and  climate ;  in  some  it 
ranges  from  fourteen  to  twenty-one  stone,  and 
in  others  from  thirteen  to  seventeen ;  but 
they  vary  a  stone  more  or  less  according  to 
the  weather  in  the  spring.  A  stone  is  fourteen 
pounds,  but  on  some  forests  I  believe  it  is 
counted  as  more  than  that,  though  fourteen 
pounds  is  the  actual  scale  of  weight.  On  most 
forests,  therefore,  a  stag,  after  the  "gralloch", 
(the  process  of  removing  the  offal)  should 
weigh  from  224  to  300  pounds,  otherwise  the 
stalker  would  not  consider  it  a  "shootable" 
A  stalker  can  with  the  glass  tell  at  a 
glance  at  a  great  distance  whether  a  beast  is 
"shootable"  or  no.  The  stalker  carries  his 
"gentleman's"  rifle,  and  crawls  first  on  the  hill, 
drawing  the  weapon  from  its  case  and  laying 
it  ready  at  the  final  moment. 

A  fine,  open  spring  will  bring  condition  on 
fast  in  deer,  whereas  in  snowy  or  wet  weather 
at  that  time  a  stone  difference  will  often  be 
found  in  their  weight.  On  the  Isle  of  Arran 
forests,  it  is  not  unusual  to  kill  deer  of  twenty- 
five  or  twenty-seven  stone ;  though  in  most 
forests  a  beast  of  seventeen  to  twenty-one 
stone  is  considered  a  good  one.  It  is  the 
cherished  ambition  of  every  Scottish  landlord 
to  increase  the  weight,  and  also  the  heads  of 
his  deer,  and  many  experiments  have  been 
tried  of  crossing  the  wild  deer  with  irnported 
and  heavier  beasts ;  but  in  the  end  such 
crossing  ends  in  a  reversion  to  the  predomi- 
nant type. 

The  aim  and  object  of  every  sportsman  is 
to  lay  low  at  some  time  during  his  stalking 
career,  a  "royal"  or  twelve  point  stag,  and 
such  beasts  are  growing  rarer  every  season; 
even  though  most  forests  possess  a  sanctuary 
in  which  the  heavy  beasts  congregate. 
Killing  young  stags  causes  a  falling  off  in 
size,  for  if  a  hundred  deer  are  shot  in  a  sea- 
son, at  least  forty  of  them  will  be  four-year- 
old  beasts,  which  if  spared  for  another  two 
years  would  grow  into  heavy  beasts  with  good 
heads. 

Many  foresters  affirm  that  certain  beasts  are 
born  "royals",  and  will  attain  to  that  distinc- 
tion if  left  to  live  long  enough ;  while  others 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


173 


aver  that  some  will  never  attain  to  such 
honor  even  if  left  alone  for  eight  or  ten  years. 
In  some  parts  of  Scotland  the  foresters  so 
reverence  a  "royal"  that  they  will  approach 
the  dead  monarch  with  uncovered  heads. 
There  are  but  few  forests  which  yield  three  or 
four  "royals"  in  a  season,  and  many  of  them 
produce  none  at  all. 

Stalking  may  begin,  according  to  the  forest, 
early  in  September  and  continue  to  about  the 
fifteenth  of  October ;  and  after  the  stags  have 
been  got,  hind  shooting  commences,  sometimes 
as  early  as  the  first  of  November.  Stags  have 
usually  separated  from  the  hinds  when  the 
latter  are  shot.  Hind  shooting  is  not  at  all 
bad  sport  and  though  not  affording  the  keen 
pleasure  which  the  slaying  of  a  good  stag 
does,  it  is  yet  well  worth  remaining  on  the 
ground  for,  when  the  stag  season  is  over. 

There  are  plenty  of  Scotch  forests  renting 
at  over  £2000  per  year  each  for  practically  but 
two  months'  sport,  a  rental  of  over  £40  per  day, 
not  including  other  expenses,  showing  that  this 
sport  carried  out  on  a  large  scale  is  a  pretty 
expensive  amusement;  but  as  previously  men- 
tioned, there  are  chances  for  the  man  of 
moderate  means  if  he  advertises  early  for  what 
he  wants  in  the  London  sporting  journals. 

I  will  conclude  this  somewhat  lengthy 
article,  by  quoting  one  or  two  interesting  and 
amusing  facts  in  connection  with  foresters  at- 
tached to  various  shootings.  The  Scotch 
forester  is,  as  a  rule,  one  of  Nature's  gentle- 
men, kind  and  considerate,  and  ever  ready  and 
willing  to  look  after  the  welfare  and  interests 
of  his  "gentleman."  The  genuine  highlander 
is  a  firm  believer  in  ghosts  and  the  super- 
natural, and  though  brave  as  the  best  in  the 
light  of  day,  he  will  not  face  in  the  dark, 
places  supposed  to  be  haunted  or  otherwise 
visited  by  ghosts  or  "double  goers."  To  re- 
main alone  in  an  outlying  shooting-lodge,  ten 
miles  or  more  from  the  nearest  habitation,  will 
in  the  long  run  get  upon  any  man's  nerves,  so 
we  cannot  blame  the  stalker  if  he  refuses  to 
dwell  in  such  places  alone,  when  the  season  is 
over  and  his  "gentlemen"  have  gone  south. 
Many  of  these  men,  in  spite  of  their  retired 
and  solitary  life,  are  extremely  well  informed 
on  all  matters  of  public  interest.  If  such  a 
man  sees  you  are  keen  and  willing  to  learn,  he 
will  impart  as  much  as  he  can  of  the  rudiments 


of  the  profession  to  you,  in  the  short  time  you 
may  be  together  on  the  hill  during  the  shoot- 
ing season.  Many  of  these  men  have  rather  a 
rough-edge  to  their  tongues,  but  such  liberties 
are  allowed  in  old  and  trusted  servants. 
Speeches  which  would  hardly  be  brooked  from 
others  in  a  like  station  in  the  lowlands,  are 
permissible  from  men  who  often  spend  days 
with  you  alone  on  some  wild  forest,  where 
master  and  man  are  more  really  companions 
than  they  would  be  in  more  civilized  parts. 
Hit  your  deer  in  the  haunch  instead  of  the 
heart  and  Donald  will  probably  remark  quietly, 
"Surely  you  mistook  the  end  of  him."  A  party, 
or  rather  picnic  was  once  given  on  a  forest 
in  honor  of  a  lady's  birthday,  and  of  course 
the  stalker  was  invited.  Cigarettes,  peaches 
and  champagne  were  passed  round,  of  which 
the  forester*  had  his  share.  The  next  day  he 
informed  his  master  that  the  "jump  wine"  was 
right  good,  and  the  "velvet  apples"  were  no 
bad ;  but  that  tobacco  in  paper  was  far  too 
tender  for  his  smoking;  surely  a  quaint  and 
novel  description.  The  forester  is  a  strict  ob- 
server of  the  Sabbath,  and  once  a  noble  lord 
preparing  for  a  shoot  on  a  Monday,  packed  up 
on  Sunday  and  had  the  ponies  out  to  move  to 
the  ground  on  that  day,  to  be  ready  early  on 
Monday  morning.  The  forester,  on  being 
handed  the  rifle  in  its  cover  to  carry,  respect- 
fully declined  to  do  so  until  it  was  taken  to 
pieces  and  wrapped  in  separate  papers,  tied 
with  string,  when  as  a  parcel,  his  scruples 
were  overcome,  and  the  procession  started  on 
its  way. 

One  more  story  and  I  have  done. 

A  certain  Scotch  landowner  was  once  visited 
by  a  native  Indian  prince,  who  wished  for  a 
day's  stalking.  Donald  was  called  in  and  the 
prince  was,  on  the  following  day,  entrusted  to 
his  care,  with  a  warning  to  treat  him  as  be- 
fitted his  high  rank.  All  went  well  during  the 
first  part  of  the  stalk — it  was,  "I  doot  yer 
Majesty  will  find  the  flow  a  wee  bit  wet,"  and 
so  on,  when  crossing  a  burn.  In  crawling  the 
last  few  yards,  however,  the  prince  incautiously 
raised  his  head,  when  suddenly  the  hairy  hand 
of  the  stalker  descended  upon  it,  crushing  the 
dark  features  into  the  soft  ground,  and  his 
voice  hissed  in  the  potentate's  ear,  "Doun,  ye 
black  deevil,  doun !" 


174 


WESTERN  FIELD 


"The  Lilt  of  the  Shaded  Strean 


?" 


&- 


^ 


MY  DREAM 


GIVE   me    no   dream   of   the   city, 
The  palace,   the  mill  or  the  mart; 
I  would  rather  the  call  of  the  open 
Rang  clear  in  the  depths  of  my  heart. 
The  rustle  of  leaf  in  the  forest 

The  song  of  the  wood  and  the  stream. 
The  voice  of  the  hill  and  the  valley — 
This    is   my   dream — my   dream. 

Give  me  no  gold  of  the  toiler 

Gleaned  in  his  house  of  clay; 
I   would   rather  the   peace  that  lingers 

Over  each  woodland   way. 
The  glint   of  the  sun   in  the  branches. 

The  night  and  its  stars  agleam. 
The  voice  of  the  breeze  in  the  woodland  trees 

This    is    my   dream — my   dream. 

Give  me  no  sound  of  the  traffic 

And  strife  of  the  city's  kind; 
I   would   rather   the   woodland   whispers, 

The  balm  of  the  forest  wind. 
The  song  of  the  bird  in  the  open, 

The  lilt  of  the  shaded  stream 
And  the  charm  that  lies  in  the  open  skies — 

This  is  my  dream — my  dream. 

-Harry  T.  Fee. 


By  T.  Shelley  Sutton 


HAVE  just  returned  from  an 
interesting  trip  through  Texas. 
It  is  a  magnificent  state.  Several 
years  ago  I  was  a  resident  of 
Texas,  but  I  never  realized 
what  a  wounderful  country  it  is 
until  my  last  trip,  from  Texar- 
kana  to  El  Paso,  via  Fort 
Worth.  I  was  a  passenger  on  a 
T.  &  P.  "jim-crow"  limited,  (the 
train  on  which  Ezra  Kendall '  made  his 
famous  "meteoric  flight"  through  Arkansaw,) 
hence  was  enabled  to  study  the  most  minute 
details  of  Texas'  topography  and  development. 
That  portion  of  the  Lone  Star  State  which 
lies  between  the  Rio  Grande,  the  Rio  Pecos 
and  New  Mexico  was  to  me  the  most  interest- 
ing section  of  all  the  entire  southland  empire. 
It  contains  but  one  geographical  "formation" 
familiar  to  the  outside  world — namely,  El 
Paso;  and  even  El  Paso's  fame  (or  perhaps 
I  should  say  notoriety)  is  founded  on  any- 
thing but  covetable  attractions.  But  to  the 
east  of  this  incandescent  summer  resort  there 
is  a  region  of  formidable  fascinations— best 
described,  I  should  say,  as  both  charming  and 
repulsive.  That  it  is  an  inspiring  wonderland 
I  can  vouch  for,  as  I  have  walked  and  ridden 
several  times  over  all  of  it;  and  that  it  also 
is  a  formidable,  drouth-doomed  wilderness 
will  not  be  disputed  by  anyone  who  is 
acquainted,  even  in  the  slightest,  with  its 
varied  peculiarities. 

Its  mountains  are  strange  and  eerie,  assum- 
ing wild,  somber,  spectral  shapes  that  are  at 
once  so  unnatural  and  so  beautiful  as  to  hold 
the  eye  for  hours  in  a  fascinated  gaze.  Most 
of  them  are  barren,  desolate  mountains— 
almost  of  a  diabolic  formation :  treacherous, 
uncertain  and  uncanny — comparable  only  with 
the  Funeral  mountains,  or  those  mysterious 
geological  freaks  known  as  the  Santa  Catarina, 
Tortilita,  Maricopa  and  Harqui-Hala  moun- 
tains in  Arizona.  Yet  in  these  arid  misshapen 
peaks  there  is  good  game,  a  world  of  induce- 
ments for  the  modern  nimrod  who  can  endure 


a  few  hardships,  afford  to  hire  a  good  Mexican 
guide,  and  travel  far  enough  into  them  to 
learn  their  hidden  resources. 

Tourists  on  the  Texas  &  Pacific  railroad, 
by  leaving  the  train  and  walking  ahead  of  it 
for  a  few  hours,  can  learn  a  great  deal  of  the 
peculiar  topography  of  this  section  of  Texas. 
There  is  no  need  to  worry  about  being  over- 
taken by  the  train ;  it  runs  very  slowly 
through  this  region,  although  it  is  called  a 
"fast"  train.  The  one  that  took  me  into  El 
Paso  last  week  was  too  fast — about  half  the 
time  it  appeared  to  be  fast  to  the  rails. 

Coming  from  the  Rio  Pecos  to  El  Paso,  a 
number  of  jocular  passengers  were  inclined 
to  poke  fun  at  the  country.  I  will  admit  it 
was  something  like  136°  in  the  shade,  and 
that  the  sun  always  seems  to  have  it  in  for 
this  region,  but  that  is  no  reason  why 
strangers  should  ridicule  it.  Of  course  none 
of  them  knew  that  I  had  spent  three  years 
in  that  vicinity,  so  there  was  no  thought  of 
sparing  my  feelings.  One  fat  passenger,  from 
whose  forehead  about  two  quarts  of  beer  was 
percolating  every  half  hour,  suggested  that 
anyone  who  would  live  there  "ought  to  be 
exempt  from  hell  on  the  ground  of  insanity." 
I  heard  he  was  going  to  Yuma,  so  I  forgave 
him.    He's  getting  his,  now. 

The  T.  &  P.  map,  between  Pecos  and  El 
Paso,  contains  a  number  of  flyspecks  designated 
as  Toyah,  Boracho,  Wild  Horse,  Ysleta,  etc., 
and  a  great  many  superficial  observers 
imagine  that  these  towns,  are  mirages.  They 
nevertheless  are  visible  at  close  range  to  the 
naked  eye,  although  unjustly  referred  to  as 
"the  microscopic  metropoli"  of  the  desert.  I 
have  frequently  heard  the  assertion  that  the 
country  is  uninhabited ;  but  on  several 
occasions  I  have  gotten  off  the  train  at  the 
points  .mentioned  and  personally  scrutinized 
the  premises.  In  a  number  of  instances  I 
found  that  the  towns  actually  exist,  and  that 
some  of  them  contain  as  many  as  two  and 
three  people,  who,  however,  generally  are 
somewhat   scattered   and   hard   to   locate.     In 


and  t  c  TWii    jirf  far. 

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THE  PACIFIC  COAST  SI  AG  A  Z IX  E 


177 


disappointed  1.  Meanwhile  Jack  and  Bob 
were  "all  in."  and  were  lying  on  their  backs 
just  outside  the  tent,  under  a  couple  of  mes- 
quite  bushes,  panting  like  grayhounds  after 
a  long  chase. 

Despite  the  advice  of  my  companions  I 
shouldered  my  rifle  and  started  out  along  the 
river  to  "land"  an  antelope.  I  knew  that  when 
the  heat  was  at  its  worst,  the  antelope  were 
more  apt  to  graze  in  toward  the  river  in  quest 
of  water,  and  that  I  might  get  not  only  an 
antelope  but  whatever  other  kind  of  game  the 
country  afforded.  Thus  it  happened,  at  twelve 
o'clock,  noon.  I  was  leaning  on  nv 
mopping  a  badly  bronzed  brow  and  ; 
at  the  sun  till  the  air  around  me  grew  lurid 
and  mephitic  Then  I  ceased  swearing,  lay 
down  in  the  "shadow'\?t  of  a  transparent 
mesquite  and  tried  to  figure  out  how  far  it 
was  to  camp. 

How  it  all  happened  I  am  not  certain.  The 
sun's  heat  must  have  subdued  me.  for  I 
snoozed  off  into  a  hasheesh  rhapsody  in  which 
I  imagined  that  I  was  head  overseer  in  an  ice 
factor}-,  perched  on  a  throne  of  frozen  aqua 
in  a  crystal  palace  of  icicles,  when,  suddenly, 
some  one  set  fire  to  the  plant  and  the  ice  be- 
gan to  melt.  In  a  moment  I  was  swimming 
for  my  life  in  a  sea  of  boiling  water.  The 
hot  fluid  had  just  about  finished  me  when  I 
became  conscious  of  Bob's  voice,  about  ten 
feet  behind  me.  calling  in  a  low  whisper : 

"Tom!     Tom!     I  say — Tom!" 

I  jumped  to  my  feet,  wet  through  with  per- 
spiration, which  was  streaming  In  torrents 
from  even-  pore  of  my  body.     The  first  thing 


-  \v,5  N, 


actus 


as  Bob.    He  .  through 

a  bunc'.  :e.  both  hands  grip?     g 

rifle  nod 

I  asked. 

-  -  ring  toward  him 

I 
- 
I  turned,  quickly.     There,  within  a  hundred 
yards    ::"   as     brink  ag  and  grazing. 
■-.----  - 

-     -        .-  -    - 

ser,"  Bob  whispere  g   me  to 

fall.     In  a  second   I  had  forgotten  the  heat, 
and    with    Bob    was    worming   along    on    my 
_ 
ed  very  cr..:: 

-  - :  thick  that  after  we  fell  upon  the 
ground  we  could  neither  set  .  nor  be 
seen. 

We    .  g    -  and   it   mcr 

taken  us  ten  minute 
vantage  where  Bob  was  gi  :  3.  shot. 

5 

brush,  we  raised  alerxiy  up  until  the  drove  was 
in  full  yiew.  then  fal  aim.     We 

were  just  on   the  point  of  firing  when,  snd- 


178 


WESTERX  FIELD 


drnly  there  came  the  crack  of  a  rifle,  the  sud- 
den clatter  lit'  many  little  hoofs  and  a  series 
of  peculiar  snorts  as  the  herd  dashed  wildly 
across  the  river  bottom.  An  antelope,  shot 
almost  through  the  heart,  lay  kicking  in  death 
near  the  water's  edge,  its  life-blood  spattering 
out  on  the  white,  hot  rocks  that  formed  its 
last  couch. 

But  who  had  shot  it?  There  was  not  a 
living  being  in  sight,  and  neither  Bob  nor  I 
had  puller  a  trigger.  We  looked  around  us 
bewildered.  The  heat  waves  were  dancing 
in  undulating  currents  on  every  side,  but  there 
was  no  sign  of  rifle  smoke,  and  no  person 
visible  near  us.  I  looked  at  Bob.  He  returned 
my  gaze  with  a  strange,  questioning  stare. 

"It's  the  little  witch!"  he  exclaimed,  after 
a  long  silence.  "I  saw  her  as  I  was  coming 
down  the  river  in  search  of  you — about  an 
hour  ago.  She  was  sitting  on  a  rock,  loading 
her  rifle,  and  ran  when  she  saw^  me.  Pretty? 
— say,  she's  as  pretty  as  a  peach !" 

"But  where  is  she?  I  don't  see  her  any 
place." 

"She's  here,  some  place,  and  I'm  going  to 
find  her." 

With  this  announced  decision  Bob  shoul- 
dered his  rifle  and  started  out  "beating  the 
bushes"  in  quest  of  the  mysterious  "witch." 

"What  the  devil  is  a  pretty  girl  doing  out  in 
this  God-forsaken  desert?"  I  asked,  incredu- 
lously. 

"That's  it,"  he  replied.  "I  don't  know;  but 
she's  pretty,  just  the  same — the  prettiest  girl 
I  ever  saw,  Tom,  if  she  is  Spanish." 

"Spanish?     You  mean  greaser?" 

"Not  on  your  tin-type!  She  has  beautiful 
brown  hair,  angelic  hazel  eyes,  and  the  sweet- 
est red  lips—" 

"Carmine,  I  suppose — or  root  stain." 

"Don't  you  believe  it — just  wait  till  you  see 
her." 

And  with  this  curt  reply  Bob  shut  up  like 
a  clam  and  continued  his  search,  silently.  But 
neither  of  us  was  able  to  locate  the  mysterious 
Senorita,  and  after  traversing  the  vicinity 
three  or  four  times  Bob  finally  gave  up  in  dis- 
gust and  sat  down  to  ruminate. 

The  antelope  that  had  been  shot  was  now 
dead,  and  still  lay  on  the  rocks  by  the  river 
side,  but  no  one  had  gone  forward  to  claim 
it.  Accordingly-,  Bob  and  I  started  after  it, 
drew  out  our  knives  and  went  to  work  "peel- 
ing" and  dissecting  it. 

That  night,  at  camp,  Jack,  Bob  and  I  had  a 


fine  fill  of  antelope  broiled  on  mesquitc  coals. 
But  Boh  ate  very  little  of  it.  He  went  to  bed 
wondering  how  the  deuce  he  would  locate  the 
red-lipped  witch  that  had  so  strangely  killed 
our  antelope  and  disappeared  without  claim- 
ing it.  His  problem  was  soon  solved,  how- 
ever. 

The  next  morning,  about  daylight,  he 
dressed  and  stole  off  up  the  river.  Five  or 
six  hours  later,  as  Jack  and  I  were  lolling  in 
the  tent,  he  came  rushing  into  camp,  almost 
breathless,  with  the  glad  tidings  that  he  had 
"found  her." 

"Say,  boys,  she's  a  dream !"  he  exclaimed. 
"She's  Spanish  all  right,  and  her  home  is  in  a 
fine  hacienda  about  six  miles  from  here,  down 
on  the  east  bank  of  the  Pecos.  It  was  she 
who  killed  that  antelope,  as  I  told  you ;  but 
she  had  no  sooner  shot  it  than  she  caught 
sight  of  us,  so  she  ran  off  and  hid — just  too 
bashful  to  come  forward.  She  crosses  over 
in  a  skiff  every  morning  and  hunts  and  fishes. 
Her  father  owns  several  thousand  head  of 
stock,  and  all  the  land  we  have  been  traveling 
over  for  the  past  four  days." 

"I  wouldn't  give  six  bits  for  all  of  it!"  Jack 
exclaimed,  stubbornly. 

"Oh,  wouldn't  you?  Well,  I'll  bet  you'd  give 
more'n  six  bits  for  Senorita  Lola  Fernandez. 
She's  the  old  man's  only  daughter  and  the 
prettiest  little  angel  you  ever  laid  eyes  on ! 
Gee,  but  she's  a  stunner !  I  had  a  long  talk 
to  her  this  morning.  Say.  boys,  I'm  going  to 
be  gone  today,  so  don't  expect  me  back  until 
this  evening." 

Before  we  could  catch  our  breath,  Bob  had 
donned  a  red  necktie,  grabbed  up  a  Prince 
Albert  coat  he  had,  and  started  toward  the 
river.  The  moment  he  took  the  coat  I  knew 
he  was  headed  for  the  Senorita's  "hacienda." 
otherwise  nothing  could  have  induced  him  to 
carry  such  a  superfluous  article  on  a  day  as 
hot  as  that  was.  Jack  and  I,  filling  our  pipes, 
settled  back  for  a  good  laugh,  and  looked 
lazily  after  Bob  as  he  disappeared  among  the 
mesquite  bushes  on  the  Rio  Pecos. 

I  am  an  old  bachelor,  myself,  and  know  but 
little  about  the  wiles  or  blandishments  of  the 
feminine  sex ;  but  if  I  may  judge  from  the  ex- 
periences of  such  loyal  good  fellows  as  Bob 
Blazier,  the  other  sex  is  a  good  thing  for 
sworn  bachelors  to  keep  clear  of.  I've  seen 
it  demonstrated  that  the  most  invulnerable 
bachelor   can   be   hooked,   landed   and   thrown 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


The    Fernandez    Rancho 


in  the  skillet  in  just  about  the  length  of  time 
it  takes  to  tell  it. 

Bob  was  always  perfectly  sane  before  that 
morning.  Afterwards — well,  he  just  seemed 
to  go  to  pieces.  The  first  thing  Jack  and  I 
knew,  the  poor  fellow  candidly  admitted  that 
the  worst  had  come,  and  that  he  had  actually 
fallen  in  love.  I  always  gave  Bob  credit  for 
having  some  good  sense,  and  yet  after  he  in- 
troduced me  to  the  Senorita  I  could  see  how 
natural  it  was  that  he  should  fall  a  victim. 
But,  God  bless  her  ashes !  he  couldn't  have 
given  his  heart  to  a  better  one.  After  all,  as 
I  look  back  over  those  dark  days  on  the  Rio 
Pecos,  I  can  only  wonder  if  it  was  not  the' 
work  of  destiny — if  there  was  not  some  in- 
exorable fate  with  an  ugly  grip  on  Bob's  life. 
He  was  thirty-two  years  old,  then,  and  had 
frequently  assured  both  Jack  and  me  that 
nothing  in  the  world  could  ever  induce  him 
to  get  married.  I  believe,  too,  that  fate  in- 
tended Bob  for  a  bachelor.  Cruel  as  the  edict 
seemed,  he  had  no  sooner  fallen  in  love  than 
the  end  overtook  him. 


A  day  or  two  following  Bob's  acquaintance 
with  the  Senorita,  her  father  invited  us  to 
pitch  our  tent  in  a  group  of  cottonwoods  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards  from  the  hacienda. 
This  we  gladly  did,  and  so  it  was  but  a  short 
time  until  Bob's  courtship  was  progressing  at 
speed-limit.  Senor  Fernandez,  wha  was  in 
reality  a  Castilian  Spaniard,  seemed  highly 
pleased  at  his  daughter's  fondness  for  Bob, 
and  a  few  weeks  after  our  arrival  at  the  grove 
confided  in  us  that  he  thought  Bob  was  "tin 
grande  Iwmbrc,"  and  that  he  was  delighted 
with  the  prospects. 

"Es  hechiccro  sobre  toda  ponderacion,"  he 
said.  "For  six  year  I  try  to  get  her  marry — 
she  laugh  ;  she  no  like  Americano.  Now — " 
He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  smiling.  "Pretty 
soon  I  think  she  make  him  wife,  eh?  Que 
maravilla!    'Sta  bueno!" 

And  he  laughed  again,  heartily. 

It  was  ideal — romantic.  Nothing  could 
have  been  more  favorable  for  Bob,  and  his  life 
never  went  at  a  happier  pace  than  it  did  dur- 
ing the  weeks  that  followed,  until,  one  after- 


180 


WESTERN  FIELD 


noon,  the  long  bright  lane  came  to  a  sudden 
turning,  and  the  light  of  two  lives,  at  least, 
u.i-  darkened     for  eternity. 

Jack  and  I  spent  must  of  our  time  hunting 
and  fishing  along  the  Pecos,  and  our  daily 
rambles  were  rewarded  by  many  good  bags 
and  heavy  baskets.  If  it  were  not  for  the 
memory  of  that  terrible  tragedy  that  fol- 
lowed. I  believe  there  is  no  place  in  the  world 
in  which  I  would  rather  hunt  and  fish  than 
along  the  still,  dream-swathed  waters  of  the 
Rio  Pecos ;  but  the  recollection  of  that  final 
afternoon  drives  from  my  heart  all  thoughts 
of  the  pleasures  that  preceded. 

We  were  coming  back  from  a  several  mile 
walk  down  the  river— Jack  and  I — about  2 
p.  m.  on  the  third  of  September,  six  weeks 
following  our  arrival  on  the  Rio  Pecos,  when 
we  found  him  lying,  face  down,  in  a  cluster 
of  Spanish  daggers. 

At  first  we  did  not  realize  that  it  was  Bob ; 
but  when  we  approached,  and  looked  down  at 
him,  it  did  not  require  a  second  to  learn  the 
truth.  It  was  Bob,  and  he  was  dead.  The 
fang  of  a  rattlesnake  had  fastened  in  his 
wrist.  We  saw  where  he  had  dragged  him- 
self for  many  yards,  vainly  endeavoring  to 
reach  the  water. 

It  was  the  time  of  year  when  the  Texas 
rattler  is  heat-blind,  and  the  venom  of  its  fangs 
is  deadliest.  Bob,  poor  fellow,  all  alone  in  that 
desert  wilderness  of  mesquitt,  had  vainly 
sucked  the  blood  from  his  wound ;  but  no 
power  on  earth  could  have  saved  him,  for 
we  discovered  later  where  the  fangs,  in  some 
manner,  had  been  driven  into  his  flesh  in  five 
places.  He  had  lived  but  a  few  hours,  and  all 
that  time,  perhaps — while  we  fancied  he  was 
strolling  with  Lola,  or  lounging  in  the 
hacienda — he  was  crying  for  help  among  the 
alkali  sand  dunes  of  the  Rio  Pecos. 

We  carried  him  home  as  quickly  and  ten- 
derly as  we  could ;  and,  before  breaking  the 
news  to  Lolo  laid  the  body  out  in  the  tent 
among  the  cottonwoods.  Then  the  old  Span- 
iard, who  had  come  to  our  assistance,  went  to 
the  house,  and  very  gently  told  her  of  Bob's 
fate.      I   never   knew,   until   I    saw   her   a   few- 


minutes  later,  how  intensely  Lola  cared  for 
him.  There  was  not  a  tear  in  her  eye — only 
a  blank,  dead,  desolate  stare.     It  was  pitiful. 

Bob  was  buried  in  a  private  burial  ground 
near  the  waters  of  the  Pecos.  We  placed  a 
granite  rock  at  each  end  of  his  grave,  and  a 
few  days  later  left  the  hacienda  for  Quito, 
where  we  boarded  the  train  for  California.  It 
was  a  sad  departure. 

A  year  afterward,  while  Jack  was  in  San 
Francisco,  I  returned  to  the  Pecos  country 
to  look  after  some  mining  property  we  had 
located  there,  and  in  passing  through  the  Fer- 
nandez rancho  made  it  a  point  to  visit  the 
hacienda. 

I  was  much  surprised  to  find  it  had  been  torn 
down,  and  that  a  board  shack,  occupied  by  a 
number  of  Mexicans,  replaced  it.  One  of  the 
occupants  informed  me  that  Senor  Fernandez 
had  died,  and  that  his  wife  had  returned  to 
her  home  in  Galveston. 

Before  leaving,  I  strolled  out  to  the  little 
burial  plot  where  we  had  laid  Bob.  There 
was  a  new  grave  near  his  own,  but  it  bore  no 
name.  Returning  to  the  Mexicans,  I  asked 
them  who  was  buried  there,  and  was  informed 
that  it  was  "the  grave  of  Senorita  Lola  Fer- 
nandez, the  old  man's  daughter." 

"She  kill  herself,"  one  of  the  Mexicans  told 
me.  "She  jump  in  Rio  Pecos  one  night. 
They  find  her  body  way  down — two  mile. 
Senorita  much  love  one  Americano ;  he  die — 
rattlesnake.  Everybody  feel  bad.  One  night 
big  hacienda  catch  fire;  then  old  man  die. 
Senora,  she  go  back  to  Galveston.  Me  buy 
rancho,  build  new  house — so.  You  go? 
Buenos  dias,  Senor." 

The  door  closed  and  I  rode  off  along  the 
river  to  Quito.  That  was  the  last  time  I  saw 
the  Pecos  until  the  other  day  when  I  crossed 
it  on  the  train  to  El  Paso.  Naturally,  I  could 
not  enjoy  the  humor  of  their  jests  when  the 
passengers  began  to  laugh  at  the  desert 
through  which  we  journeyed,  for  in  that  same 
desert — desolate  as  it  seemed — there  was  the 
grave  of  a  comrade — a  host  of  pathetic  mem- 
ories suggesting  anything  but  laughter. 


4 


Y 


OCTOBER  THRIFT 

OU   think   I   am   a   wastrel   fool. 
Because  I  am  a  vagabond. 
In   Autumn's   magic   days   and  cool 
I   gather   treasure   far  beyond 
The  little  gold  your  care  has  earned. 
I  swear  by  every  sylvan  god 
I  am  a  miser  king;    I've  learned 
The   glamour   of  the   golden   rod. 

My  treasurer.   Sir   Bumble   Drone, 
Reports  the  budget,  as  I   He 
Upon  my  emerald  grassy  throne. 
Lazily  looking  toward  the  sky. 
He  tells   of  acorn   diadems, 
And  sapphires  lordlier  than  dreams; 
For,   half  hid  by  my  royal  gems, 
One   noble   hooded-gentian  gleams. 


— Sinclair  Lewis. 


WHEN  THE  TEAL  COME 


Bv  "Don  Ramon  " 


HEREVER  there  are  waterways 
of  any  size ;  wherever  there  are 
reedy,  rice-grown  lakes,  wher- 
ever there  are  stretches  of  al- 
ternate mudflat  and  sandy  sea 
beach — wherever,  in  short,  there 
is  water  and  feed  to  lure  them, 
there  the  duck  family  will  be 
found,  lording  it  over  all  the 
other  game  birds  of  the  locality, 
I  care  not  whether  they  be  quail  or  grouse  or 
turkeys  or  wild  pigeons. 

The  Pacific  coast,  lacking  the  myriad  little 
bays  and  estuaries  which  cut  into  the  shore 
of  the  Atlantic,  has  never  been  the  highway 
nor  the  abiding  place  for  ducks  and  geese  as 
has  been  the  eastern  shore  of  these  United 
States.  But  as  the  country  settled  up  and  the 
Mississippi  Valley,  once  the  main  highway  of 
all  the  feathered  hordes  of  the  New  World 
on  their  migration  to  breeding  places  close  to 
the  Circle,  became  filled  with  men  and  guns, 
the  birds  began  to  seek  a  new  route  to  the 
north. 

Naturally  they  turned  to  the  Pacific  shore 
of  the  continent,  and  the  principal  pathway  of 
the  ducks  and  geese  into  the  far  recesses  of 
the  north  nowadays  is  over  the  land  west  of 
the  Rockies,  either  along  the  coast  or  a  trifle 
inland,  over  the  Great  Basin. 

All  in  all,  there  come  to  the  South  Goast 
every  year  (or  remain  there  during  the  breed- 


ing season)  seventeen  species  of  ducks,  five 
varieties  of  geese,  one  brant  (the  black,)  and 
one  swan,  the  trumpeter.  This  list  does  not 
pretend  to  split  hairs,  but  is  given  to  good 
species,  well  marked  and  easily  identified,  even 
by  the  tyro. 

Of  the  geese  and  the  brant  and  the  swan  it  is 
not  mine  to  speak,  though  the  season  for 
shooting  them  is  here,  but  rather  of  the  swift- 
winged,  eye-trying  little  rascals,  the  teal,  of 
which  there  are  three  species  to  be  met  with 
by  the  shooter  on  the  South  Coast. 

When  the  winds  of  winter  make  uncomfort- 
able the  warmest  blind,  when  the  rain  drives 
down  that  wind  at  forty  miles  an  hour,  when 
your  fingers  are  so  cold  you  cannot  work  the 
safety  on  the  little  double-barrel,  on  such 
days  as  these  the  teal  seem  most  at  home  above 
the  marshes  and  along  the  river  mouths  of 
the  southwest. 

Rising  reluctantly  as  if  hateful  of  leaving 
its  day-long  resting  place,  a  mallard,  heavy 
with  much  good  feeding,  drives  slowly  across 
the  wind  and  the  rain,  striving  to  reach  the 
sandhills  and  after  them  the  river,  where  he 
can  float  even  more  securely  and  where  he 
can  find  a  band  of  his  kind.  He  looks  slow — 
he  is  slow ;  the  twelve-gauge  cracks  and  the 
greenhead  tumbles  with  a  splash  into  the 
water.  One  bright  spot  in  the  day  at  any  rate ! 
Life  seems  to  return  to  you ;  you  finger  the 
warm   barrel   of   the    gun    lovingly   and    wish 


182 


WESTERN  FIELD 


another  bird  would  conic  along  to  give  you  a 
chance  to  warm  the  other  barrel. 

And  then,  out  of  the  mist  and  the  rain,  out 
of  the  mean  day  which  is  to  be  your,  last  of 
duck  shooting  for  the  season  there  comes  a 
faint  "Mark  west!"  from  the  nearest  blind. 
You  do,  and  thrown  across  the  sky  is  a  waver- 
ing line,  so  thin  in  the  fog.  as  to  seem  a  long 
way  off.  It  doesn't  look  like  ducks,  but  it 
inmes  and  wavers  along  the  sky  and  it  must 
be  ducks ;  no  other  living  things  on  earth  but 
ducks  and  you  would  be  abroad  on  such  a  day 
as   this. 

The  line  crumbles  up  in  the  center,  rises 
into  an  arch  as  it  sees  your  decoys;  almost 
stops  in  midair,  then  breaks  down  to  fall  to 
your  lure,  suddenly  suspects  something  and 
straightens  out  to  circle  round  your  clump  of 
weeds  just  at  the  right  range. 

Deceived  by  the  mallard's  big  body  and  by 
the  murk,  you  figure  them  as  going  slow,  a 
nice  mark.  The  right  barrel  cracks;  nothing 
doing.  The  nitro  rips  out  a  peppery  word 
from  the  left  barrel,  and  the  last  bird  in  the 
last  wing  of  the  rude  crescent,  stutters  in  his 
flight  and,  over  in  the  next  pond,  pitches  into 
the  water. 

This  is  the  teal:  small,  not  held  in  high 
repute  by  "epicures" (  !) — most  of  whom  could 
not  tell  a  canvas  back  from  a  mallard  or  a 
gadwall  from  a  mudhen  if  they  saw  the  birds 
cooked  only — but  to  the  old  gunner  along  the 
South  Coast  the  very  epitome  of  all  that  is 
hard  co  hit  when  in  full  flight,  and  of  personi- 
fied wariness  when  once  it  has  been  warned  of 
the  dangers  of  any  locality. 

The  speed  of  the  teal  is  wonderful ;  I  believe 
it  is  the  fastest  of  all  the  duck  tribe  once  it 
gets  under  way.  but  in  rising  from  the  water 
it  is  beaten  by  the  mallard  or  the  redhead  or 
the  ruddy  or  any  one  of  half  a  dozen  other 
ducks  I  could  name  which  are  found  in  the 
same  localities  as  the  teal. 

Commonest  of  all  the  ducks  which  come  to 
the  South  Coast  hunter  is  the  green-winged 
teal.  It  is  abundant  in  winter  throughout  the 
lowlands  and  along  the  lower  parts  of  the 
rivers  which  flow  down  to  the  sea.  Several 
years  ago,  while  riding  up  the  Santa  Ana 
River  above  Yorba  in  Orange  county,  I  found 
a  green-wing  dead  beside  the  road  and  directly 
under  a  telephone  pole.  Apparently  he  had 
been  urged  into  rapid  flight  by  some  threaten- 
ing danger  and  had  dashed  to  his  death  against 
the  wires  or  the  post. 


This  was  in  early  morning  and  the  body  was 
still  warm.  I  went  down  to  the  river  about 
half  a  mile  above,  little  suspecting  any  ducks 
and  there  put  up  from  among  the  willows  a 
band  of  seven  ducks,  teal  of  some  species,  but 
whether  they  were  green-wings  or  not  I  had 
no  means  of  knowing.  This  is  the  furthest 
inland  I  have  ever  met  the  green-wing. 

For  the  man  who  gets  his  duck  shooting  by 
poling  along  some  river  in  a  batteau  or  by 
walking  up  or  down  its  side,  putting  up  here 
and  there  a  bird,  the  mallard  is  best  and  the 
teal  a  long  way  down  the  list,  but  nine  out 
of  ten  of  the  ducks  which  are  shot  in  small 
meadow  ponds  in  the  farms  of  the  lowlands 
are  teal. 

They  seem  to  be  remarkably  sociable  little 
fellows,  and  I  have  seen  the  water  of  small 
ponds  near  Alamitos  and  Westminster  and  the 
alkali  lakes  down  below  Santa  Ana  black  with 
them  in  winter.  Along  toward  spring  these 
green-wings  go  north  and  east  to  their  breed- 
ing grounds,  though  they  are  among  the  last 
to  leave  of  all  the  migrant  ducks,  just  as  they 
are  one  of  the  first  to  come  out  of  the  north  at 
the  beginning  of  winter. 

On  the  wet-weather  lakes  of  the  hills  I  have 
found  the  best  place  to  gather  in  the  green 
wings.  Usually  a  man  can  get  one  of  these 
lakes  pretty  much  to  himself  if  he  arrives 
there  early  enough  in  the  morning,  and  if,  be- 
fore the  duck  season  opens,  he  makes  a  blind 
at  some  convenient  place  he  can  have  good 
sport  even  without  decoys  or  dog.  About  the 
best  all  round  duck  shooting  I  ever  saw  was 
on  a  little  pond  not  far  from  Whittier,  in 
La  Habra  Valley.  There  the  teal  came,  liter- 
ally by  thousands  every  winter,  to  feed  in 
fancied  security  from  men  and  guns. 

Along  the  shore  of  the  sea,  and  on  the  sand- 
hill lakes  and  little  estuaries,  the  teal  is  not 
so  common,  though  it  is  occasionally  seen  in 
the  rafts  of  other  ducks,  resting  just  outside 
the  surf.  It  is  in  no  sense  a  sea  duck,  but  is 
the  game  bird  par  excellence  of  inland  waters. 

With  the  green  wings  now  and  then  the 
hunter  will  kill  a  teal  which  has  a  blue  patch 
on  the  wing  in  place  of  the  green  feathers  with 
which  he  has  become  familiar  during  long  ac- 
quaintance with  the  green-wing.  This  is  the 
rare  blue-winged,  teal,  a  straggler  from  the 
east,  where,  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  at  least,  I 
am  told  it  is  about  as  common  as  the  green- 
wing  here. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


184 


I!  /  S  //'A'\    FIELD 


["he  blue  wing  is  the  most  beautiful  of  the 

teal    hi. I  H  i    .1  gi eat  pity  that  it  has  nol  bi 

mi >i unon,  though  the  introductior, 

of  any  migrant  game  bird  is  quite  oul  of  the 
question;  1  am  a  groat  believer  in  the  keeping 
(if  game  birds  in  aviaries  and  on  tin-  grounds 

.if  largo  estates.  When.-  judgment  is  used,  ami 
some  attention  paid  to  different  foods  for  dif- 
ferent seasons  of  the  year,  there  is  110  reason 
why  ducks  should  not  be  kept  as  well  as  quail, 
grouse  or  pheasants — and  none  of  the  web 
feet  are  more  hardy  or  more  to  be  desired  than 
the    teal. 

Hut  the  abundant  fresh  water  duek  of  the 
west  coast,  and  of  the  southern  end  of  the 
west  coast  in  particular,  is  the  cinnamon  teal. 
Resident  through  the  spring,  summer  and  fall 
wherever  found  in  Southern  California,  the  cin- 
namon teal  leaves  this  part  of  the  state  only  in 
midwinter  and  then  goes  south  for  a  brief  stay. 

Wherever  there  are  reedy  marshes,  wher- 
ever  there  are  green  fields  bordered  by  brooks 
or  even  by  drainage  ditches  and  in  the  vicinity 
of  practically  all  the  ponds  and  lagoons  of  the 
southern  counties  of  the  state,  the  cinnamon 
teal  builds  its  saucer-shaped  nest,  lays  its  six 
to  ten  cream-colored  eggs  in  April  or  May  and 
rears  its  young. 

There  is  not  a  farm — I  doubt  if  there  is  a 
beet  or  celery  ranch  in  the  lowlands  of  Los 
Angeles,  Orange,  San  Diego,  or  even  Ventura 
counties — that  has  not  any  number  of  these 
pretty  little  birds  nesting  in  its  boundaries. 
While  the  female  is  sitting  there  is  no  more 
secretive  bird  in  all  the  outdoors,  and  when 
the  young  come  off  the  nest  they  learn  to 
swim  and  dive  so  rapidly  that  the  waters  of 
the  creek  or  pond  along  which  they  are  born 
is  as  much  a  home  to  them  as  was  their  grassy 
cradle  a  few  hours  before. 

Young  teal  grow  rapidly,  and  by  midwinter 
arc  ready  to  begin  the  long  flight  to  the 
marshes  of  Mexico  and  even  further  south 
with  the  parent  birds.  The  nesting  time  is 
mostly  in  May,  though  late  April  sometimes 
finds  'several  pairs  engaged  in  the  duties  of 
home  making.  Newport  Bay  was  once  a 
famous  place  for  these  birds  and  also,  in  the 
winter  months,  for  the  green-wings,  but  of 
late  the  growth  of  the  beach  city  and  the  cut- 
ting up  of  the  tide  lands  into  gun  club  prop- 
erties has  spoiled  the  shooting  for  any  but 
members  of  these  organizations. 

But  there  is  still  some  good  teal  shooting  to 
be  had  along  the  streams  of  the  coast  in  mid- 


vx  inter,    even    though    one    does    nol     have    the 

entree  to  any  of  the  organizations  which  con- 
trol the  blinds  and   ponds  of  the   South   Coast. 

i  have  Found  several  little  wel  weather  ponds 
along  the  San  Gabriel  which  are  feeding 
grounds  for  teal — green-wings,  of  course, — in 
the  winter  and  ou  which  the  little  sixteen  has 
gotten  in  its  good  work  several  days  during 
the  season. 

One  morning  I  boarded  a  Santa  Ana  car  in 
Los  Angeles,  rolled  out  through  the  level 
fields  of  the  mesa  which  slopes  away  from  Los 
Angeles  to  the  sea  and  then,  turning  sharply 
from  the  straight  way  which  would  have  led 
to  the  Pacific,  sped  across  here  a  little  water- 
Idled  gully,  there  the  end  of  a  reed-bordered 
pond,  scaring  up  bands  of  coots  almost  from 
every  pond  after  we  left  the  city  limits. 

As  we  flashed  across  what  appeared  to  be 
an  arm  of  a  stream,  but  was  in  reality  only  a 
blin.d  canon  let  down  into  the  mesa  and  filled 
with  rain  water  from  the  hills  further  back, 
I  saw  three  or  four  birds  a  ways  out  which 
did  not  seem  to  be  mudhens.  At  the  next 
cross  road  I  dropped  off  the  car,  slipped  the 
.22  Winchester  from  its  case  and  started  back, 
walking  up  the  opposite  side  of  the  railroad 
grade  from  that  on  which  the  pond  lay. 

Moving  along  slowly,  making  as  little  noise 
as  possible,  I  came  to  a  clump  of  willow5,  a  bit 
out  from  the  line  and  through  which  I  could 
see  dimly  the  sheen  of  water.  I  went  over 
behind  the  willows,  regretfully  shaking  the 
coals  from  my  morning  pipe  as  I  did  so,  and, 
parting  the  leaves  of  the  willows,  saw  a  small 
band  of  ducks  clear  at  the  other  end  of  the 
pond,  possibly  sixty  yards  away.  I  could  not 
make  out  their  species,  but  I  selected  the  big- 
gest, pulled  down  on  his  thickest  part  and 
pressed  the  trigger. 

The  crack  of  the  little  gun  was  followed 
immediately  by  the  solid  thud  of  the  bullet  on 
wood  and  an  instant  later  by  the  shout  of  a 
very  angry  man  standing  up  in  a  blind  just 
back  of  the  bunch  of  decoys  into  which  I  had 
fired.  And  if  the  man  was  mad  so  was  I. 
First  of  all  I  had  been  fooled  by  wooden 
"ducks" ;  then  I  had  wasted  a  shot,  the  noise 
of  which  might  frighten  real  ducks  in  some 
other  pond,  and  I  had  unintentionally  butted 
in  on  another  man's  hunting.  Besides  all  these, 
the  duck  I  had  hoped  for  was  not  to  be  had. 

I  went  around  the  willows,  however,  and 
we  patched  up  a  very  fair  sort  of  friendship, 
so  much  so  that  he  offered  to  go  back  to  his 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


18S 


house  and  let  me  shoot  his  blind  for  the  rest 
of  the  morning.  The  ground  belonged  to  no 
club ;  he  owned  it,  lived  on  it  and  had  the  sense 
not  to  sell  his  shooting  rights,  which,  I  judged 
from  the  string  of  eleven  ducks  he  had,  could 
hardly  be  improved  upon. 

While  we  were  talking  he  glanced  round, 
dropped  down  into  the  blind,  pulled  me  with 
him,  and  a  few  moments  later  a  band  of  sprigs 
swept  in  on  the  long  slant  by  which  every 
hunter  knows  them  and  alighted  in  the  water 
a  bit  out  beyond  the  decoys.  The  .22  cracked, 
a  bird  turned  over  in  the  water;  and,  as  the 
band  got  up,  the  twelve-bore  in  the  hands  of 
my  new-found  friend  cracked  once  and  again 
and  a  bird  fell  just  in  the  edge  of  the  willows, 
while  another  sailed  over  to  drop  on  the 
further  side. 

We  walked  out  and  he  waded  int  j  the  pond, 
which  was  nowhere  more  than  a  foot  deep, 
and  retrieved  the  two  we  had  killed,  while  I 
went  around  the  willows,  found  his  bird,  re- 
turned it  to  him,  said  "good-bye",  and  went  my 
way.  Up  at  the  little  pond  where  I  had  first 
seen  the  ducks,  I  picked  up  one  from  a  hiding 
place  behind  some  tules  and  then  had  a  fierce 
time  getting  him  in.  He  was  a  green-wing 
and  I  shot  him  through  the  head,  which  helped 
a  little  to  make  up  for  the  decoy  I  shot  in  the 
other  pond. 

I  knew  the  river  could  not  be  far  away,  so 
I  walked  down  the  track  till  I  came  to  it — the 
wet-weather  river  which  has  been  dignified 
with  such  a  high-sounding  name — and  then 
struck  down  in  toward  the  sea.  Nothing  ap- 
peared on  the  stream  except  a  band  of  mal- 
lards to  which  I  could  not  get  within  range 
and  so  I  drifted  on  down  to  the  mudflat  where 
the  river  empties  into  the  sea  and  almost  fell 
over  a  band  of  fifteen  or  twenty  curlew. 

These  curve-billed  snipe  are  always  tame  in 
winter,  but  I  never  saw  any  quite  so  willing  to 
be  shot  as  these.  I  picked  one  at  the  first 
fire  of  the  little  gun,  and,  not  being  quite  dead, 
the  bird  squealed  some,  luring  the  greater 
part  of  the  band  back.  Three  of  them  made 
the  mistake  of  alighting  near  him  and  by  the 
time  they  got  ready  to  get  up  I  had  one  of 
them  also  to  add  to  my  bag. 

This  gave  me  two  ducks  and  two  curlew, 
more  birds  than  I  really  needed,  and  I  passed 
up  a  bunch  of  yellow-legs  from  which  I  could 
easily  have  picked  another.  Enough  has  always 
been  a  great  plenty   with   me  in  my  hunting. 


and  enough  means  just  what  the  folks  at  home 
can  eat  with  my  help.  If  every  hunter  would 
adhere  to  this  rule,  year  in  and  year  out,  there 
would  be  very  little  need  for  game  laws,  other 
than  to  protect  species  which  from  some  in- 
adaptability of  their  own  are  on  the  verge  of 
extinction,  and  then  the  law  would  need  to  be 
enforced  only  during  the  breeding  season. 

After  this  I  sat  down  on  the  beach,  having 
walked  some  little  distance  and  being  tired. 
Nothing  came  along  except  a  band  of  gulls 
and  two  or  three  scoters  riding  on  the  surf. 
Wanting  one  of  the  scoters  for  its  skin,  I 
shot  it  as  it  rode  the  first  breaker,  but,  instead 
of  hitting  the  bird  in  the  body  as  I  had  in- 
tended, the  dip  of  the  wave  threw  the  scoter's 
head  directly  in  line  with  the  bullet,  and  the 
skin  was  ruined.  This  taught  me  a  lesson 
and  the  next  one  of  the  birds  I  shot  was  well 
up  on  the  sand.  I  shot  him  clean  through  the 
body  at  something  like  seventy  feet,  and,  run- 
ning forward  to  pick  him  up,  found  a  ruddy 
duck  instead  of  a  scoter  I  had  thought  I  was 
shooting  at.  These  ruddies  are  rather  rare  on 
the  South  Coast  and  I  was  more  pleased  with 
this  kill  than  any  of  those  I  had  hitherto  made. 

From  here  I  cut  through  a  pasture  which 
runs  down  almost  to  the  sea,  crossed  a  couple 
of  wire  fences  and,  after  a  good  long  tramp, 
struck  the  car  line  again  on  the  crossing  of  a 
county  road.  Inside  of  an  hour  I  was  again 
within  the  limits  of  the  city,  and  very  shortly 
thereafter  was  in  my  home.  And  dinner,  a 
trifle  after  noon,  meant  ducks — well  killed  and 
with  quite  as  much  sport  as  though  I  had  had 
a  dog  to  help ;  with  much  more  pleasure  and 
an  infinitely  greater  sense  of  conquest  of  the 
wily  wild  things  than  if  I  had  lain  in  a  blind 
all  the  forenoon,  seeking  with  might  and  main 
to  be  "high  gun"  on  some  club  grounds. 

Shooting  ducks  in  this  manner,  however,  is 
usually  harder  than  was  this  particular  trip. 
I  have  tramped  through  the  marshes  and  river 
bottoms  of  Southern  California  for  many  a 
wet  morning  and  come  home  with  nothing  but 
a  ravenous  appetite  to  show  for  it.  Still  I 
am  as  ardent  an  advocate  of  this  kind  of  hunt- 
ing as  when  I  first  took  it  up,  and,  when  I 
get  the  price,  I  shall,  I  think,  instead  of  buy- 
ing a  share  in  a  gun  club,  take  a  trip  down  the 
Rio  Colorado ;  for  that  is  the  land  of  whose 
web-footed  hordes  that  old-time  California 
hunter,  T.  S.  Van  Dyke,  has  written  so  enter- 
tainingly and  so  often. 


By  T<>ii n  F.  Sugruf. 


Part 

HE  Skaguay  trail,  I  may  here  5ay, 
was  a  regular  little  hell.  Broken- 
down  horses  and  broken-hearted 
nun  were  an  every-day  occur- 
rence. One  specimen  of  the 
mean  man  came  to  view  at  this 
stage  of  the  game.  On  the  8th 
day  of  August.  1897,  a  young 
man  named  Folger  was  drowned 
while  crossing  a  log  across  the 
Skaguay  Rnver.  His  foot  slipped  and  the 
weight  of  his  pack  carried  his  head  first 
into  the  water.  Both  arms  being  pinioned 
by  the  weight  of  his  load,  he  never  had  a 
chance  for  his  life.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  his 
head  was  crushed  in,  over  the  right  eye,  on 
the  rocky  bottom ;  and  it  was  more  likely  the 
effects  of  the  blow  that  finished  him  than 
drowning.  Right  there  I  learned  to  never 
cross  a  log  with  both  arms  through  the  pack 
straps. 

His  body  having  been  recovered  by  his 
friends,  they  looked  for  some  way  of  taking 
the  poor  victim  back  to  camp.  A  freighter 
going  by  at  the  time  with  an  empty  wagon, 
they  placed  the  body  on  it  and  the  said  party 
returned  to  Skaguay,  maybe  a  little  over  a 
mile  distant.  On  reaching  camp,  the  freighter 
refused  to  allow  them  to  take  the  body  of 
their  dead  comrade  until  he  had  been  paid  the 
sum  of  ten  dollars.  The  money  may  or  may 
not  have  been  paid,  but  the  outcome  of  the 
affair  was  that  at  a  meeting  of  the  public  it 
was  decided  to  hang  the'  freighter  there  and 
then.  Cooler  heads  intervened  and  a  happy 
medium  was  arrived  at.  He  was  given  twelve 
hours  to  dispose  of  his  stock  in  trade  and 
leave  the  camp — or  hang.  He  left.  Some  have 
tried  to  excuse  the  man's  greediness  on  the 
ground  that  "he  did  not  think."  Quite  pos- 
sibly he  did  not ;  but  nobody  but  the  meanest 
would  need  time  to  think  on  a  like  occasion. 
It's  a  pity  the  same  spirit  did  not  exist  in 
Skaguay  a  year  later.  More  than  one  citizen 
would  have  come  under  the  twelve-hour  clause 


-( Concluded.) 

and  the  annals  of  the  trail  been  saved  many  a 
blot. 

Skaguay  was  in  much  the  same  state  as 
Dyca ;  goods  were  landed  on  the  beach  and 
hauled  away  on  any  sort  of  conveyance  that 
could  be  found.  One  young  man  I  saw  had 
a  bicycle  in  use.  He  would  sling  a  couple  of 
sacks  of  flour  or  beans  across  the  backbone  of 
the  machine  and  then  push  the  whole  business 
up  the  beach  till  beyond  high  water  mark. 
He  was  making  money  hand  over  hand,  and 
deserved  to  for  his  bright  idea. 

The  tent  house  was  the  most  common  at 
that  time  and  already  the  clink  of  glasses  and 
the  rattle  of  chips  could  he  heard  through  the 
canvas  walls.  Times  were  good  and  life  was 
strenuous  in  those  days.  Skaguay  contained 
in  a  short  space  of  time  all  the  conveniences 
and  all  the  vices  of  any  large  city.  She  was 
wild  and  woolly  and  would  be  a  good  subject 
to  write  on — full  of  color,  full  of  incident ! 
One  might  fill  pages  in  attempting  to  portray 
the  characters  developed  on  this  particular 
part  of  the  trail,  but  we  have  already  got  our 
outfit  as  far  as  the  "head  of  navigation"  and 
delay  is  fatal.  "Excelsior !"  is  the  cry.  From 
the  head  of  navigation  the  mode  of  trans- 
portation was  confined  to  pack  mules,  horses 
and  men ;  the  men  were  in  the  majority.  The 
greater  number  here  set  to  work  to  carry  over 
their  own  stuff,  and  a  killing  job  it  was.  I 
may  say  right  here — and  I  am  somewhat  of  an 
authority  on  the  matter — that  the  "human  form 
divine"  was  never  meant  to  carry  great 
weights  for  any  length  of  time.  "Packing",  as 
it  is  called,  is  an  ingenious  form  of  torture, 
and  should  be  reserved  for  criminals  only, 
and  those  of  the  very  worst  type.  A  light  pack, 
weighing  say  fifty  pounds  in  the  morning, 
grows  heavier  and  heavier  as  the  day  goes  on, 
and  may  be  safely  figured  in  tons  in  the  after- 
noon, especially  if  the  day  is  hot  and  the  trail 
rough.     Compound  interest  is  nothing  to  it. 

Tlie  trail  from  here  left  the  river  bank 
proper  and  wound  over  a  rocky  hill  for  three 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


187 


or  four  miles,  then  descended  again  to  the 
river,  which  was  crossed  several  times  before 
reaching  Sheep  Camp.  The  bridges  consisted 
of  single  logs  of  a  willowy  pattern  and  were 
at  times  sufficiently  perilous.  The  author 
made  the  trip  during  the  night,  as  it  was 
cooler.  In  company  with  a  wandering  Irish- 
man whose  name  I  now  forget,  I  started  at 
eight  o'clock.  Our  packs  averaged  about  one 
hundred  pounds  each. 

We  traveled  for  maybe  two  hours — climb- 
ing, slipping,  swearing  some,  and  occasionally 
stopping  to  rest  and  light  pipes.  Eventually 
being  wet,  tired,  and  in  momentary  danger  of 
breaking  our  legs  or  necks  or.  both,  we  decided 
to  camp  for  the  night.  A  faint  glow  being 
visible  through  the  timber,  we  pushed  on  till 
we  found  a  lone  Indian  sleeping  at  a  camp- 
fire  by  the  trail,  and  here  we  decided  to  quit 
work  for  a  few  hours.  When  one  is  tired  it 
does  not  take  long  to  make  arrangements  for 
bed.  Wet  clothes  and  all,  we  just  rolled  up  in 
our  blankets,  put  our  heads  on  our  packs  and 
joined  in  the  concert  which  was  being  carried 
on  singlehanded  by  the  Siwash  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  fire. 

During  the  night  we  were  somewhat  dis- 
turbed by  our  dusky  friend  who  persisted  in 
rolling  round  to  our  side  of  the  fire  and 
snuggling  as  close  as  we  would  let  him.  I 
suppose  the  poor  devil  was  cold,  as  the  nights 
were  a  trifle  chilly;  but  it's  a  very  good  prac- 
tice when  sleeping  anywhere  near  one  of  these 
specimens  to  keep  a  wide  space  of  cold  air  be- 
tween your  respective  bodies.  "There  are 
more  things  in  heaven  and  earth  than  are 
dreamt,"  etc.,  is  an  old  saying.  There  are 
also  more  forms  of  life  concealed  about  the 
person  of  a  traveling  Indian  than  are  cata- 
logued in  the  British  Museum.  The  conse- 
quence of  his  eagerness  to  share  our  bed  was 
that  as  the  Indian  rolled  over  towards  us,  we 
rolled  in  the  opposite  direction,  till  at  last  all 
three  were  merrily  revolving  around  the  camp- 
fire.  This  is  a  splendid  form  of  exercise,  but 
a  poor  way  to  gst  rest,  so  getting  tired  of  it,  a 
well  directed  kick  from  one  of  the  Irishmen — 
we  were  both  from  the  Emerald  Isle — put 
the  Siwash  out  of  business. 

You  see,  it  was  the  only  way  to  settle  things. 
The  camp-fire  was  his,  so  we  could  not  very 
well  turn  him  out  altogether,  and  we  could 
not  make  him  understand  that  we  had  any 
valid  objection. to  sharing  our  blankets.  An 
Indian   rather  likes  a  few  pets  in  his  clothes 


and  cannot  appreciate  the  finer  feelings  of  a 
white  man  on  this  subject.  After  a  fitful 
night's  "rest"  we  started  like  giants  refreshed 
and,  impelled  by  a  gnawing  appetite,  soon 
made  Sheep  Camp  where  we  introduced  our- 
selves to  a  hearty  breakfast.  Sheep  Camp 
should  have  a  story  of  its  own.  It  was  a  sort 
of  half-way  house  where  people  rested  before 
attacking  the  Summit  proper.  In  '97  it  was 
little  more  than  a  collection  of .  tents,  but 
in  the  spring  of  '98  some  more  substantial 
cabins  and  hotels  were  erected  and  it  became 
a  busy  center.  It  might  well  have  been  called 
"Rumor"  city. 

When  the  writer  was  there  in  August,  '97, 
stories  flew  around  as  to  what  was  doing  in  a 
most  promiscuous  fashion.  The  events'  of  the 
outer  world  Were  of  very  little  importance  to 
any  of  us  just  then,  but  the  condition  of  the 
trail  at  either  end  and  the  price  of  packing 
were  the  two  all-engrossing  topics.  Each  new 
arrival  brought  his  own  version,  and  as  there 
were  no  means  to  verify  any  one's  statement, 
each  was  believed  until  some  later  traveler 
brought  a  different  story. 

The  rush  and  bustle  was  surprising  and 
would  have  made  cities  of  far  greater  im- 
portance die  of  envy.  Every  one  in  those  days 
was  a  "hustler"  and  a  constant  string  of  men 
could  be  seen  coming  in  to  Sheep  Camp  from 
the  coast,  and  going  out  towards  the  Summit. 
All  laden,  and  mostly  weary  and  sore  all  over, 
we  certainly  worked.  A  pot  hole  surrounded 
by  mountains  with  a  mountain  torrent  run- 
ning through  the  center,  hot  as  hades  and 
mostly  rock.  Here  I  stopped  to  round  up  my 
baggage  and  spent  just  two  days  before  start- 
ing again.  Nothing  of  incident  occurred.  I  met 
Sugden,  the  doctor,  again  and  he  and  I  set  and 
bandaged  a  man's  leg.  The  poor  fellow  had 
broken  it  on  the  trail  and  his  partners  had 
brought  him  back  to  the  hotel  and  then  gone 
on  their  way.  The  beggar  was  grit  clean 
through.  We  offered  to  bring  his  stuff  back 
to  him  or  trade  him  an  equal  amount,  but 
he  said  to  leave  the  stuff  where  it  was — at  the 
lakes  and  he  would  catch  up  with  us  before 
long.  He  came  through  that  "fall''.  Rigged 
up  some  crutches,  got  sledded  over  the  Pass 
and  came  down  the  river  the  following 
spring.  I  met  him  in  Dawson,  but  after- 
wards lost  track  of  him.  He  deserved  to  do 
well,  but  I  don't  think  he  did. 

From  Sheep   Camp  to  the  lakes  was  about 

fifteen    miles.     The    Summit    was    bad,    d 

bad !    To  walk  over  it  once  was  all  right,  but 


II  ESTERN  FIELD 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


189 


to  have  to  tackle  it  twice  a  day  for  a  week 
with  one  hundred  pounds  on  one's  back  took 
the  edge  off  any  appetite  one  might  have  had 
for  mountaineering.  The  climb  was  mostly 
over  broken  rock,  slippery,  sharp,  hard  on  the 
feet  and  bad  for  the  temper.  However,  it  had 
to  be.  Every  one  took  it  as  a  matter  of  course 
and  it  was  soon  left  behind.  Then  round 
Crater  Lake,  Long  Lake,  Deep  Lake,  and  over 
another  steep  summit  to  Linderman  and  the 
worst  of  the  trip  was  over. 

Boys,  it  was  no  Sunday-school  treat.  Strong 
men  ruined  themselves,  weak  men  killed  them- 
selves, and  good-tempered  men  became  sadly 
changed  before  that  part  of  the  journey  was 
passed.  After  I  came  through,  some  enter- 
prising spirits  packed  boats  over  the  summit 
and  went  into  the  Ferry  business  on  Long 
and  Deep  lakes  where  they  made  many  an 
honest    dollar. 

I  found  my  partner  at  Linderman  and  all 
our  stuff  safe,  the  tent  set  up  and  a  good 
meal  cooking.  Those  meals  on  the  trail ! 
They  are  pleasant  memories  now,  though  at 
the  time  I  speak  of  they  were  remarkably  solid 
facts.  New  York,  London,  and  Paris  could 
skin  our  "menu"  to  death  for  variety,  but 
the  trail  appetite — the  appetite — that  was  a 
revelation.  Epicures,  those  suffering  from  in- 
digestion, just  try  a  course  of  the  trail  and  all 
other  patent  medicines  will  beckon  to  you  in 
vain.  Bacon,  beans,  hot  biscuits,  evaporated 
potatoes,  strong  tea  and  plenty  of  sugar.  The 
table  your  lap,  and  the  surrounding  land- 
scape your  limit — -when  every  thing  in  sight 
is  finished.  Then  roll  over  on  your  back, 
stick  your  pipe  between  your  teeth,  and  a 
feeling  of  rest  and  content  steals  over  you  that 
is  unequaled  in  any  other  place  or  at  any 
other  time. 

Say,  boys,  it  is  good  to  be  young  and  strong ; 
to  be  out  in  the  fresh  air  morning,  noon  and 
night ;  to  have  plenty  to  do,  plenty  to  eat  and 
an  object  in  view  such  as  we  had  in  those 
days.  No  thoughts  of  rheumatism,  no  heart, 
head  or  stomach  aches ;  nothing — not  even 
mosquitoes,  to  bother  us.  The  Lakes  at  last. 
It  seemed  easy  from  now  on. 

At  last  the  journey  by  land  is  done.- 
Standing  on  the  shore  of  Lake  Bennet, 
our  boat  loaded,  our  troubles  all  behind 
us,  nothing  to  do  but  sail  over  unknown 
seas,  glide  down  unknown  rivers  and  land 
safe  and  sound  at  the  Holy  City.  Dawson 
was    our    Mecca; "and     we,     pilgrims     to     the 


Shrine  of  Mammon.  One  August  day  we 
three  partners  bade  farewell  to  our  camp 
mates,  and  in  company  with  the  Magec 
outfit,  a  millionaire  from  Frisco's  crowd, 
•  started  with  a  fair  wind  at  about  four 
o'clock. 

Our  passage  down  the  lake  was  a  stormy 
one,  and  as  our  craft  was  .not  registered 
A  1  at  Lloyds  it  was  wet  and  somewhat 
risky.  Lake  Bennet,  twenty-seven  miles, 
then  Cariboo  Crossing,  lakes  Maves  and 
Tagish  and  the  famous  Windy  Arm.  Here 
we  were  caught  in  a  nasty  squall  and  had 
a  hand-pull  for  shelter.  We  made  our 
second  camp  here  and  it  was  chiefly 
noticeable  for  the  number  of  trout  we 
caught  and  ate.  The  rocky  beach  here 
seemed  a  sort  of  preparatory  school  -and 
the  trout  were  nearly  all  from  one-quarter 
to  one-half  pounders,  lively,  game  and  ex- 
cellent  eating. 

Then  on  to  the  Indian  graveyards  at 
Tagish.  This  was  where  the  Custom  Post 
was  afterwards  placed,  but  when  we  passed 
there  was  no  one  there.  A  mile  of  river 
separates  Tagish.  from  Lake  Marsh.  It  is 
full  of  trout  and  is  a  good  spot  for  sport 
of  all  kinds.  Our  trip  over  Lake  Marsh 
was  a  stormy  and  hard  one.  It  took  us 
two  and  a  half  days  pulling  against  a 
head  wind  and  the  blisters  and  curses 
were  in  proportion.  Rowing  against  a 
head  wind  is  hard  work  at  any  time,  but 
in  boats  like  ours  it  was  the  work  of 
galley  slaves. 

Our  boats  may  here  be  described.  About 
twenty-five  feet  over  all — four  feet  beam 
on  the  floor,  and  flaring  sides ;  flat  bot- 
tomed. Made  from  green  lumber,  rough 
and  unpainted,  clinker  built,  and  the  seams 
plugged  roughly  with  oakum  and  tar.  The 
oars  were  two  poles  of  green  fir  with  flat 
blades  let  in  and  nailed,  poorly  balanced 
and  stiff  as  a  rod  of  iron.  Loaded  down 
with  a  ton  and  a  half,  and  leaking  con- 
tinually they  were  built  neither  for  beauty, 
sea-worthiness  nor  speed.  The  sail,  used 
when  the  wind  was  favorable,  was  a 
blanket  spread  on  a  square  yard.  They 
were,  however,  the  best  we  could  do  and 
they  answered  our  purpose.  These  craft 
were  valued  all  the  way  from  $100  to  $600 
a   piece,   the   price   being   regulated    by   the 


190 


Jl  /  sniRN  FIELD 


amount   you  bad  in  your  pocket   and  your 
desire  t"  gel   t<  i   I  lawson. 

We  were  now  at  the  bottom  of  Lake 
Marsh  and  after  a  determined  attempt  to 
go  up  the  McCIintoch  River,  which  runs 
in  close  to  the  outlet  of  the  lake,  we  at 
last  Struck  running  water  and  were  able 
to  lie  back  and  smoke  a  pipe  without  losing 
ground.  The  McCIintoch  River  was  where 
Some  white  men  were  murdered  by  Indians 
the  following  spring.  The  Indians  were 
caught  and  hung — a  most  necessarj 
The  example  was  a  good  one  and  very 
little  trouble  has  ever  been  given  by  the 
natives  in  the  Yukon. 

We  were  now  in  what  is  known  as  the 
Sixty  Mile  River,  running  between  Lake 
Marsh  and  La  Barge,  and  which  contains 
the  Canon  and  Whitchorse  Rapids.  It  is 
needless  to  say  that  this  was  one  of  the 
most  interesting  and  exciting  parts  of  the 
journey.  Knowing  as  we  do  now  the  exact 
locality  and  the  size  and  dangers  of  these 
two  impediments  to  navigation,  we  ap- 
proached them  as  a  matter  of  course  and 
run  them  for  amusement.  In  those  days 
it  was  different.  The  descriptions  we  had 
heard  of  them  were  lurid  and  vague.  We 
had  our  all  in  our  boats  in  the  shape  of 
provisions  and  tools,  and  scattered  as  we 
were  along  the  river  each  outfit  had  to 
look  out  for  itself  and  rely  upon  its  own 
exertions.  It's  the  fashion  nowadays  to 
make  light  of  these  dangers,  but  in  view 
of  these  facts  and  circumstances,  running 
the  Canon  and  Rapids  was  an  exciting 
piece  of  work. 

Our  two  boats  got  to  the  Canon  about 
four  in  the  afternoon  and  after  looking 
over  the  ground  we  took  out  some  of  the 
goods  and  joined  forces  in  running  the 
two  boats.  Young  Magee  took  the  helm, 
I  rowed  bow  and  old  Magee  (he  was 
nearly  sixty  years  old)  rowed  stroke.  We 
took  off  all  superfluous  clothing  in  case  of 
accidents,  and  pushed  off  from  the  shore. 
\\  hen  we  got  in  midstream  we  lay  on  our 
oars  and  drifted  down  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Canon.  The  river  plunges  between,  two 
rock  walls,  drops  about  six  feet  smooth  as 
glass,  and  then  breaks  up  in  waves  and 
whirlpools.  It  is  divided  into  two  sections. 
and  opens  out  in  the  center  into  a  large 
circle.      In    this    pit    the    water    runs    wildly 


to  right  and  left,  clashing  against  the  cliffs, 
and  to  make  a  successful  "shoot"  one  must 
keep  in  the  broken  water  in  the  middle. 
Then  you  dive  once  more  between  narrow, 
frowning  walls  of  basalt  and  in  a  smother 
of  foam  shoot  out  into  the  river  below. 
It  is  not  really  dangerous  in  a  good  boat, 
but  the  roaring  of  the  waves,  the  lightning 
rapidity  of  the  movement,  and  the  frown- 
ing cliffs  on  either  side  make  it  a  stirring 
minute  and  a  half.  It's  nearly  a  mile  long 
and  that  is  all  the  time  it  takes  so  you 
can  see  it's  not  too  slow. 

We  ran  both  boats  successfully,  getting 
a  little  wet  in  the  first  but  got  the  second 
through  dry  as  a  bone;  Exfcricntia  docet — 
freely  translated:  "Experience  does  it." 
We  spent  the  evening  packing  the  rest  of 
our  goods  round  the  portage  and  camped 
at  the  foot  of  the  Canon  that  night.  The 
day  had  been  a  busy  and  exciting  one.  We 
were  all  rather  pleased  with  ourselves  at 
our  successful  navigation,  and  lulled  by 
the  racing  waters  we  slept  the  sleep  of 
the  just  and  weary. 

Next  morning  we  were  up  bright  and 
early,  loaded  up  the  boats  and  ran  the 
"Squaw"  rapids.  This  is  a  piece  of  swift 
water  studded  with  rocks,  about  two  miles 
long  and  lying  between  the  Canon  and  the 
Rapids.  Not  very  dangerous  in  a  small 
boat,  but  a  bad  piece  of  water  for  heavy- 
laden  scows.  The  bones  of  many  a  one 
lie  whitening  there  now  to  tell  the  tale. 
It  was  raining  heavily  so  we  did  not  un- 
load the  boats.  Just  set  up  our  tents  and 
took  a  look  at  the  rapids.  There  were 
several  outfits  here.  Some  packing  round 
boats  and  all,  some  packing  round  their 
provisions  and  letting  their  boats  through 
with  ropes,  and  others  sitting  down  wait- 
ing for  some  one. to  tell  them  what  to  do. 

Running  the  rapids  was  not  favored  and 
when  we  determined  to  "take  it  flying"  we 
were  cautioned,  warned,  sympathized  with 
and  finally  given  up  as  crazy.  Many  had 
no  doubt  run  the  rapids  before  we  did, 
and  I  know  many  ran  it  afterwards ;  but 
out  of  twenty  outfits  none  would  try  it 
when  we  were  there.  It  was  usual  to  pack 
the  grub  around  and  line  the  boats  down 
empty.  The  marks  of  the  ropes  were  visi- 
ble on  trees  that  had  been  used  as  snub- 
bing posts.    It  was  the  "chee-chaco"  that  made 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


191 


running  the  Whitehorse  a  usual  occurrence. 
The  following  morning  we  unloaded 
some  of  the  stuff  and  amidst  the  applause 
of  an  admiring  but  dubious  audience  started 
our  first  boat.  Three  big  waves  and  the 
first  part  was  over  and  we  were  fairly  in 
for  it.  The  water  runs  swiftly  for  a  half 
mile,  and  then  a  reef  of  rocks  runs  out 
from  the  left  bank  and  makes  the  passage 
very  narrow  and  rough  indeed. 

Holding  her  nose  straight  for  the 
combers  we  "gave  way"  and  then  fairly 
disappeared  in  a  smother.  I  did  not  see 
much  of  the  first  trip,  as  we  shipped  a  sea 
that  caught  me  fair  between  the  shoulder 
blades,  taking  my  breath  and  eyesight  at 
one  and  the  same  time.  It  was  icy  cold 
and  rather  unexpected.  We  got  through 
with  very  little  trouble  and  with  great 
rapidity.  Pulling  in  below  the  whirlpool 
on  the  left  bank  we  shook  hands  all  round 
and  started  back  for  the  second  boat. 

Our  audience  this  time  asked  us  to  wait 
till  they  could  get  to  the  lower  end,  which 
was  the  roughest,  and  see  all  the  fun.  We 
told  them  to  hurry  up  as  we  were  anxious 
to  get  through,  being  all  more  or  less  wet 
and  chilly.  They  hurried  and  from  their 
remarks  afterward  had  as  good  a  time 
as  we  did.  Some  of  them  ran  their  own 
boats  after  this  and  Magee  and  I  piloted 
several  that  day. 

Next  day,  everything  being  dry  and  re- 
packed, clothes  washed  and  patched,  we 
set  out  again.  Down  stream,  it  was  easy 
going.  Thirty  miles  to  Lake  La  Barge. 
Here  we  found  a  strong  head-wind  blowing 
and  too  heavy  a  sea  to  attempt  the  cross- 
ing. La  Barge  is  twenty-eight  to  thirty 
miles  long  and,  being  wide,  is  open  to 
heavy  winds.  At  times  it  is  very  rough 
indeed  and  dangerous  for  large  and  small 
boats.  We  waited  two  days  for  the  wind 
to  moderate  and  then  took  four  days  buck- 
ing headseas  to  get  to  the  other  end.  It 
was  a  stiff  pull  and  when  we  struck  the 
head  of  the  Thirty  Mile  we  were  more 
than  pleased.  From  here  on  it  was  an  un- 
broken current  to  Dawson  and  we  were 
well  pleased  to  let  the  stream  do  most  of 
the  work. 

We  camped  out  every  night  and  one 
camp     was     very     like     another.      Landing 


about  six  o'clock,  we  would  set  up  a 
tent  and  stove.  Some  got  fire-wood,  others 
brush  where  we  could.  A  hearty  meal, 
generally  bacon,  sometimes  fish,  and  once 
a  great  luxury — an  oyster  stew!  Old 
Magee  was  responsible  for  this,  as  our 
outfit  did  not  run  to  delicacies. 

Then  the  tobacco  pipe  was  passed  round, 
bread  baked  for  the  next  day,  and  con- 
fidential chats  as  to  where  we  would  go 
first  and  what  we  would  do  with  our 
money  "when  we  got  it".  Then  as  Pepys 
says  in  his  diary,  "so  to  bed." 

But  the  trip  is  drawing  to  an  end. 
Hootalinqua  is  passed,  Stewart  River, 
Indian  River,  Baker,  Montana;  and  at  last, 
sweeping  round  the  Klondike  City  Bluff, 
we  come  in  full  sight  of  the  "golden  city" 
almost  before  we  expected  it.  Then  a  wild 
pull  for  the  shore,  a  scramble  through  the 
mud   and   we   make  fast   for  the   last   time. 

Before  long  we  are  inspecting  the  one 
long  street — mostly  saloons — looking  over 
people's  shoulders  at  the  faro  layout,  gaz- 
ing curiously  at  the  tumblers  filled  with 
gold  dust  behind  the  bars,  and  generally 
drinking  in  our  first  experience  of  a  wild 
and  woolly  mining  camp  in  its  zenith.  I 
will  not  attempt  to  describe  it  all  in  this 
rambling  series.  It  should  be  a  work  of 
its  own  and  would  take  a  more  descriptive 
pen  than  mine  to  do  it  justice.  Suffice  it  to 
say  it  was  in  every  way  up  to  our  expecta- 
tions. All  we  had  read  in  Bret  Harte 
was  before  us,  only  living.  It's  true  there 
were  no  "dead  men  for  breakfast."  That 
was  not  on  the  bill-of-fare  and  was  not 
expected.  But  there  was  everything  else — 
gambling,  dance  halls,  muddy  streets, 
miners  with  "pokes"  which  they  spent 
lavishly.  Everything  wide  open  day  and 
night,  week  days  and  Sundays.  New  ar- 
rivals continually  pouring  in  from  the  outer 
world  and  old  timers  arriving  daily  from 
the  creeks  with  stories  of  rich  strikes  and 
the  yellow  dust  in  bags  to  vouch  for  their 
statements.  It  was  great!  It  was  human, 
and  we  were  glad  to  be  a  part  of  it.  We 
had  dared  the  dangers  and  were  now  pre- 
pared to  reap  the  harvest.  Good-by,  reader. 
We  are  off  to  stake  a  claim  somewhere  in  the 
morning,  and  will  tell  you  more  about  it  in 
the  future. 


SONNET 


"TONIGHT  the  moon  sails  o'er  the  placid  lake 
'       And  gilds  the  crest  of  every  fretted  wave; 
The  reeds  along  the  shore  their  lances  shake 

Like   marshalled   hosts  of   long    forgotten   brave; 
A  thousand  songs  from  out  a  thousand  throats 

Lilt  through   the  air  and  lyric  make  the  scene. 
How  wondrous  sweet  are  all  the  reedy  notes? 

How  golden-clad  the   wave  crest's  jeweled  sheen? 

Sail  on,  O,  Moon,  amid  the  starry  isles; 

O,  wavy  lips,  sweet  kiss  the  ravished  shore; 
O,   reedy  ranks,  break  not  your  martial  files 

But  guard  this  peaceful  scene  for  ever-more. 
Sing  low,  Sweet  Pan,  your  thousand  throated  song 
Deep  in  my  heart  the  future  years  along. 

—Sam  Exton  Foulds. 


CTW5 

ANIMAL  COURAGE 

By  F.  W.  Reid. 

4> 

Part   I. 


F   ONE   could   line   up    the   wild 
beasts   on   parade,   as   Adam   is 
fabled    to    have    done    in    Eden 
when   he   gave   them   names,   in 
what  order  should  they  be  ar- 
ranged  from  the  view-point  of 
courage?    Should  the  first  place 
be   assigned   to   the   lion,   tiger, 
bear,   or   elephant?     A   difficult 
problem  this  to  solve.     Still  the 
pursuit  of  its   solution  will  lead  us  over  the 
most  interesting  territory  in  the  province  of 
natural  history. 

For  ages  past,  wild  animals  have  been 
matched  against  one  another  in  the  struggle 
for  existence.  Hence  there  has  arisen  an  es- 
tablished order  of  things ;  and  the  animal 
world  can  be  roughly  divided  into  beasts  that 
prey  and  beasts  that  are  preyed  upon.  In  their 
mutual  struggle  is  displayed  defensive  as  well 
as  aggressive  courage.  Man  has  been  some- 
times a  witness  of  these  brute  combats  in  the 
jungle.  In  the  Roman  amphitheatre  wild 
beasts  were  pitted  against  one  another.  But 
little  is  to  be  learned  as  regards  their  relative 
prowess  from  battles  so  conditioned,  for  cap- 
tivity profoundly  alters  the  nature  of  wild 
animals.     Moreover  man,   in   the  case  of  the 


matador,  has  stepped  himself  into  the  ring  to 
test  the  prowess  of  one  among  his  reputed  in- 
feriors. 

It  is  from  the  behavior  of  savage  beasts  in 
face  of  their  natural  enemy  that  we  can  most 
easily  infer  their  courage.  As  regards  this 
there  is  a  vast  quantity  of  floating  tradition  in 
all  countries  where  big  game  exists.  There 
are  the  relations  and  personal  anecdotes,  more 
or  less  reliable,  of  hunters,  trappers,  and  men 
of  the  wilderness.  More  important  is  the  large 
body  of  evidence  collected  in  the  writings  of 
famous  explorers  and  sportsmen,  of  such  men 
as  Hornaday  and  Roosevelt,  Samuel  Baker  and 
Gordon  Cumming,  to  pick  only  a  few  noted 
names. 

Let  us  take  the  case  of  the  elephant  first. 
Has  he,  the  "biggest  born  of  earth",  a  heart  in 
proportion  to  his  enormous  bulk?  Elephants, 
both  African  and  Indian,  have  been  hunted 
almost  to  the  point  of  extermination  for  the 
sake  of  their  ivory.  Though  admirably 
equipped  by  nature  both  for  offence  and  de- 
fence, protected  by  a  thick  hide  and  armed 
with  long  tusks,  they  have  not  been  able  to 
hold  their  own  against  the  cunning  of  man. 
Even  without  firearms  the  savages  of  Africa 
destroy  great  numbers  of  them. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


193 


The  Asiatic  elephant  has  been  longest  under 
observation.  It  has  been  trained  to  the  service 
of  man  from  time  immemorial — as  carriage  of 
state,  traction  engine,  even  as  a  piler  of  lum- 
ber. The  monster  has  proved  docile,  tractable, 
and  intelligent.  As  the  ally  of  man  on  his 
hunting  expeditions,  its  staunchness  has  often 
been  put  to  the  test.  Now  it  is  a  fact  well 
known  to  all  Indian  hunters,  and  attested  by 
such  celebrities  as  Sanderson  and  Sir  Samuel 
Baker,  that  the  steadiness  of  the  shikar  ele- 
phant is  a  very  uncertain  quantity. 

Baker  relates  some  annoying  experiences  he 
met  with  while  riding  on  trained  elephants  of 
excellent  reputation.  Some  bolted  as  soon  as 
they  smelt  or  saw  a  tiger,  and  tore  through  the 
jungle,  subjecting  him  to  the  risk  of  being 
knocked  off  his  seat  by  the  branch  of  a  tree. 
On  one  occasion  the  hunter  lost  the  chance  of 
an  easy  shot  at  close  range  at  a  tigress  be- 
cause his  elephant  began  to  quake  like  a  moun- 
tain of  jelly,  throwing  him  from  one  side  of 
the  howdah  to  the  other.  The  weak  point  of 
the  apparently  invulnerable  creature  is  its 
trunk.  This  sensitive  organ  of  touch  can  only 
be  partly  coiled  out  of  harm's  way,  and  the 
wounds  inflicted  on  its  exposed  surface  by  a 
charging  tiger  are  very  painful  and  apt  to  be 
remembered  long.  An  elephant  that  has  once 
been  badly  clawed  about  the  trunk  loses  its 
value  for  hunting  purposes. 

That  a  battle-scarred  animal  should  "funk" 
is  comprehensible,  but  how  shall  we  account 
for  the  peculiar  timidity  which  the  elephant 
exhibits  in  the  presence  of  dogs?  The  active 
movements  of  its  nimble  aggressor  seem  to 
disconcert  the  mammoth,  and  to  inspire  it  with 
the  same  feelings  that  oppress  a  woman  when 
a  mouse  scurries  towards  the  haven  of  her 
skirts.  Elephants  dislike  to  have  little  dogs 
get  between  their  legs,  where  they  cannot  see 
them  and  do  not  know  what  tricks  they  may 
play.  A  yapping  fox-terrier  will  drive  the 
huge  creature  to  retreat  in  a  most  undignified 
manner. 

More  remarkable  still  is  the  case,  recorded 
in  the  annals  of  Indian  sport,  of  the  elephant 
which  ran  away  from  a  hare.  It  was  a  sen- 
sitive female,  whose  nerves  had  been  shaken 
by  the  din  made  by  the  beaters  and  by  the 
roaring  of  some  bears  which,  however,  did  not 
show  themselves  outside  the  jungle.  But  when 
the  little  harmless  creature  darted  out  of  the 
cover  and  fled  towards  the  elephant,  as  to  a 
tower  of  safety — the  tower  turned  tail.     Per- 


haps the  great  animal  is  too  intelligent  to  be 
perfectly  courageous ;  and  its  training  to  serv- 
ice may  develop  its  imagination  at  the  expense 
of  its  spirit.  It  may  think  too  much ;  and,  as 
Hamlet  says,  "Conscience  doth  make  cowards 
of  us  all." 

But  when  the  elephant's  sage  self-control  is 
destroyed  by  sexual  insanity — when  it  becomes 
what  is  called  musth — it  is  absolutely  fearless. 
The  mad  creature  runs  amok,  like  a  Malay.  It 
begins  its  career  of  destruction  by  killing  its 
keeper,  and  then  proceeds  to  trample  the  life 
out  of  every  human  being  that  crosses  its 
path.  The  "rogue" — a  mildish  name  for  such 
a  terror, — after  devouring  the  stores  of  grain 
in  the  village  it  has  stormed,  demolishes  the 
houses  out  of  sheer  devilment.  But  this  tem- 
pestuous fury  is  not  courage.  It  only  shows 
what  a  terrible  enemy  to  mankind  in  the 
tropics  the  elephant  would  be,  were  it  naturally 
aggressive. 

Fortunately  they  are  not.  In  the  jungle,  ele- 
phants are  only  dangerous  in  the  breeding  sea- 
son. As  a  rule  the  herds  retreat  when  they 
wind  a  hunter.  A  wounded  tusker  of  course 
waxes  furious  and  turns  on  his  pursuer,  but 
his  charge  can  usually  be  stopped  or  diverted 
by  a  shot. 

Elephants  and  tigers,  though  they  live  in  the 
same  jungles,  do  not  come  naturally  into  com- 
petition. The  former  feed  on  grass  and  leaves, 
the  latter  on  flesh.  But  "stripes"  when  prowl- 
ing walks  wide  of  the  herd  that  he  hears  tear- 
ing the  branches  down ;  not  that  he  fears  an 
assault,  but  because  he  must  seek  his  prey  in 
less  disturbed  places.  Sensible  animals  learn 
to  mind  their  own  business  in  the  jungle.  It 
is  man,  working  for  his  own  ends,  that  has 
brought  the  two  animals  into  the  field  against 
one  another. 

But  at  what  odds !  On  the  one  side  an  army, 
a  battle  line  of  forty  or  fifty  huge  brutes, 
weighing  tons,  with  the  communicated  courage 
that  comes  from  numbers  in  touch,  and  the 
support  and  encouragement  of  their  lord  and 
master.  On  the  other,  a  solitary  but  undaunted 
animal,  small  in  comparison  with  even  one  of 
its  opponents,  but,  oh!  how  stout  of  heart. 
Who  that  has  seen  a  royal  tiger  flash  past  the 
muzzles  of  an  array  of  elephants,  challenging 
them  with  a  ringing  roar,  waving  defiance  with 
his  tail,  can  deny  him  the  meed  of  superior 
bravery?  Of  the  opposing  horde  few  dare 
face  him  in  single  combat,  and  if  such  a  cham- 
pion be  found,  the  tiger  often  brings  the  mam- 


194 


WESTERN  FIELD 


moth  to  his  knees.  No  wonder  that  the  Indians 
honor  the  tiger  with  the  title  of  prince  and 
rajah  of  the  forest. 

But  how  does  the  great  cat  show  when  its 
mettle  is  tried  by  the  lord  of  creation?  The 
title  seems  to  beg  the  very  question,  but  is 
itself  open  to  dispute.  For  take  away  his  lire- 
arms,  or  other  means  of  killing  at  a  safe 
distance,  and  what  will  man's  naked  strength 
avail  against  a  brute  that  weighs  four  hun- 
dred pounds  and  is  armed  with  teeth  and 
claws?  Very  little.  Therefore  the  royal  beast 
denies  a  sovereignty  that  asserts  itself  so 
weakly,  and  cither  ignores  or  hunts  the  arro- 
gant biped.  Even  where  tigers  have  learned  to 
respect  the  mystery  of  the  armed  man,  the 
rifle  damps  but  does  not  daunt  their  courage. 
It  is  tempered  with  a  discretion  that  teaches 
them  not  to  seek  a  combat. 

A  tiger  rarely  attacks  a  white  man,  even 
when  unarmed.  A  friend  of  the  writer's,  tak- 
ing an  evening  stroll  away  from  his  hunting 
camp,  met  a  tiger  face  to  face  on  the  edge  of 
the  jungle.  The  two  killers  eyed  one  another 
for  an  instant,  the  man  remaining  quite  still ; 
then  each  went  his  own  way.  It  was  like  the 
chance  encounter  of  a  pair  of  rival  pugilists  on 
the  eve  of  a  match.  Yet  that  great  authority, 
Baker,  says  it  is  not  safe,  if  you  fall  in  with  a 
tiger,  to  trust  to  the  imagined  cowing  influence 
of  the  human  eye.  You  may  a/ouse  the  sus- 
picions of  the  animal.  Thinking  you  mean 
mischief,  he  may  take  the  initiative  and  charge. 
Again,  a  tigress  with  cubs  will  attack  anyone 
that  stumbles  upon  her  lair. 

A  case  of  this  kind  happened  some  years  ago 
in  Central  India.  A  young  man,  hearing  that 
a.  tiger  was  lodged  in  a  certain  ravine,  took  a 
gun  with  him  and  ventured  alone  on  the  dan- 
gerous risk  of  a  stillhunt.  Winding  him,  the 
animal  was  the  first  to  attack,  rushing  sud- 
denly from  cover  and  clawing  him  severely  be- 
fore he  could  handle  his  weapon.  This  was 
not  the  assault  of  a  man-eater,  but  of  a  tiger 
annoyed  at  being  disturbed.  It  was  a  warning 
to  "keep  out",  but  so  severely  punctuated  that 
the  intruder  died  from  the  shock. 

When  wounded,  the  natural  courage  of  the 
tiger  is  goaded  to  a  pitch  of  fury.  It  is  then 
that  the  fatal  accidents  inseparable  from  this 
dangerous  sport  occur.  They  were  often 
caused  by  the  hollow  "express"  bullet,  which 
exploded  in  the  muscles  and  irritated  without 
paralyzing  the  animal.  The  injured  tiger  de- 
termines to  go  down  to  hades,  like  a  hero  of 


old,  in  the  midst  of  a  heap  of  slain  foemen. 
He  springs  at  those  unlucky  beaters  who  have 
not  climbed  out  of  harm's  way,  and  smites 
them  perhaps  to  death.  Men  are  mauled  or 
killed  outright,  stately  elephants  dragged  to 
the  ground,  the  hunter  perhaps  wounded,  be- 
fore the  courageous  tiger  receives  the  finishing 
stroke. 

The  lion  has  long  been  the  accepted  type  of 
courage.  Heroes,  kings,  and  warriors  of  olden 
time  adopted  the  lion  as  their  emblem ;  and 
only  the  bravest  of  the  brave  were  hailed  with 
the  title  "lion  hearted."  The  noble  animal  has 
held  the  center  of  the  stage  so  long  because 
he  was  the  most  formidable  wild  beast  known 
to  the  writers  of  antiquity,  who  were  them- 
selves not  very  accurately  informed  about  his 
character.  In  Asiatic  literature  the  tiger  was 
equally  celebrated,  but  little  was  known  con- 
cerning him  to  Europeans  until  comparatively 
recent  times.  Before  then  painter,  poet,  and 
sculptor  had  securely  established  the  lion  on 
the  throne  as  king  of  the  beasts. 

Whatever  rivalry  fabulists  may  feign  to  ex- 
ist between  lion  and  tiger,  in  nature  there  is 
none.  One  lords  it  in  Asia,  the  other  in 
Africa.  Animal  suzerainty  indeed  belongs 
rather  in  the  realm  of  fancy  than  in  that  of 
fact.  And  whether  the  king  of  the  beasts  can 
even  be  said  to  hold  undisputed  sway  in  Africa 
cannot  be  determined  without  taking  into  ac- 
count the  records  of  some  other  denizens  of 
that  hunter's  paradise. 

The  human  natives  indeed,  whether  forest 
dwellers  or  inhabitants  of  the  sandy  wastes, 
are  not  afraid  to  match  themselves  with  lions. 
The  Hamram  Arabs  of  Abyssinia  hunt  the 
noble  quarry'  on  horseback,  sword  in  hand.  A 
common  practice  with  many  "bush"  tribes  is  to 
entangle  lions  in  a  labyrinth  of  nets  and  then 
rush  in  and  spear  them.  Hence  Leo  Africonus 
has  had  pounded  into  him  a  certain  respect  for 
Homo  sapiens,  and  as  a  rule  discreetly  refrains 
from  attacking  his  camps  north  of  the  equator. 

Regarding  his  boldness  in  South  Africa 
opinions  differ.  Livingstone,  the  celebrated 
missionary,  thought  that  there  was  no  danger 
of  an  attack  from  the  lions  in  the  Zambesi  dis- 
trict by  day.  On  dark  nights  they  would  ven- 
ture to  attack  his  oxen,  they  were  less  brave 
when  there  was  moonlight.  But  the  Boers  on 
their  "treks",  and  the  Mashonaland  explorers, 
used  to  surround  their  camps  with  a  strong 
zareeba  of  thorny  wood,  and  to  keep  fires 
burning  all  night  as  a  safeguard.     In  spite  of 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


195 


these  precautions  it  sometimes  happened  that  a 
lion  leaped  the  fence  and  carried  off  a  sleeping 
man.  Cumming,  the  lion-hunter,  met  with  such 
an  experience.  The  robber  moreover  had  the 
nerve  to  devour  his  victim  somewhere  out  in 
the  dark  beyond  the  camp,  for  the  crunching 
of  bones  was  distinctly  heard. 

This  readiness  to  attack  seems  to  argue  for 
the  superiority  of  the  lion  over  the  tiger,  as 
regards  courage.  For  the  latter,  although  a 
man-killer  in  a  furtive  occasional  way,  keeps 
respectfully  away  from  a  camp.  But  there  is  a 
considerable  difference  between  the  surround- 
ings of  the  two  animals.  India  is  a  civilized 
country  with  tracts  of  jungle  at  intervals;  and 
firearms  have  been  in  use  there  for  many  years. 
Africa  is  still  for  the  greater  part  a  jungle 
or  a  desert,  with  fringes  and  oases  of  civiliza- 
tion ;  and  guns  are  of  comparatively  recent  in- 
troduction there.  All  this  tells  on  the  habits  of 
the  animals.  The  tiger  has  been  longer  at  the 
school  of  caution.  But  when  a  tug-of-war  be- 
tween man  and  brute  is  unavoidable,  as  in  the 
case  of  following  up  a  wounded  animal,  the 
tiger  is  as  dangerous  every  way,  and  just  as 
likely  to  turn  on  and  rend  his  hunters  as  the 
lion. 

If  the  attitude  of  a  wild  beast  towards  man 
and  his  works  is  a  fair  test  of  courage,  the 
little  leopard  should  rank  high  among  the 
fighting  cats.  It  would  take  two  big  leopards, 
and  a  cub  thrown  in  the  scale,  to  balance  the 
weight  of  an  average  tiger.  Yet  the  smaller 
animal  shows  plenty  of  "spunk"  in  a  fight,  and 
in  addition  a  quality  of  nerve  perhaps  superior 
to  that  of  his  big  cousin.  "Spots"  will  take 
risks  at  which  "stripes"  looks  askance.  A 
tiger  is  very  suspicious  of  a  trap,  but  there  is 
no  keeping  a  leopard  out  of  the  grounds,  or 
even  the  veranda  of  a  house  where  dogs  are 
kept.  The  brutes'  mouths  water  for  a  tit-bit 
like  a  fat  little  pug  or  terrier,  and  their  tracks 
are  not  rarely  discovered  around  bungalows  in 
jungly  localities. 

I  have  seen  a  leopard  expose  itself  in  the 
day  time  quite  near  to  habitations.  The  at- 
traction in  this  case  was  a  big  retriever,  trot- 
ting cheerfully  along  a  wooded  hill-path  just 
beyond  Naini-Tal.  The  leopard  peered  over  a 
rock  not  many  feet  above  the  trail  and  seemed 
about  to  spring  down ;  but  the  approach  of  a 
party  of  pedestrians,  whom  the  dog  was  pre- 
ceding, caused  him  to  retreat  behind  the 
boulders  with  a  flirt  of  his  tail.  In  Africa  it 
is   not   uncommon    for   leopards    to   prowl   by 


night  into  the  porches  of  the  huts  of  solitary 
settlers  and  claw  at  the  shutters. 

Doubtless  the  smaller  size  of  the  leopard  and 
its  resourcefulness  in  hiding  fortify  its  heart. 
"Spots"  is  not  easy  to  hit  in  the  dark,  and  has 
a  hundred  dodges  for  escaping,  if  discovered, 
which  the  tiger  has  not,  being  arboreal  in  its 
native  haunts.  It  will  prowl  over  roofs  and 
outhouses  where  cattle  lie,  as  unconcernedly  as 
a  tom-cat.  The  leopard  is  a  venturesome  ani- 
mal that  seems  fully  persuaded  that  it  has  nine 
lives  to  risk. 

The  courage  of  the  great  cats  as  a  class  is 
such  as  one  would  infer  from  their  habits. 
They  are  hunters  and  killers,  armed  and 
active ;  they  feed  on  flesh  and  lap  blood.  In 
the  bears  we  have  a  tribe  that  is  only  preda- 
tory on  occasion.  They  seem  to  lead  a  double 
life.  Now  they  are  meat-eaters  for  the  nonce, 
like  those  vegetarians  who  find  it  hard  to 
wean  themselves  entirely  from  the  flesh-pots ; 
and  fatten  themselves  against  the  winter  on 
the  carcasses  of  deer.  Again,  they  satisfy  them- 
selves with  an  innocent  diet  of  honey,  nuts, 
berries,  and  insects.  With  all  this  they  are  not 
of  a  mild  disposition.  The  bear  is  the  type  of 
a  surly  man.  Samuel  Johnson  was  so  un- 
gracious, so  overbearing  when  crossed  in  dis- 
pute, that  he  was  nicknamed  "Ursa  Major." 
Bruin  is  solitary  in  his  habits,  morose  in  tem- 
per, and  his  growl  is  a  warning  that  he  is  best 
left  alone. 

Bears  are  of  patriotic  interest  to  Americans, 
not  indeed  on  account  of  their  temper,  but  be- 
cause the  finest  specimen  of  their  tribe  is 
peculiar  to  this  continent — the  grizzly.  The 
annals  of  the  West  abound  with  testimony  to 
the  courage  of  old  Ephraim — by  the  way,  who 
gave  him  that  name,  and  why?  They  are  full 
of  stories  of  terrific  fights  between  trappers 
and  big  bears.  But,  as  Roosevelt  has  pointed 
out,  the  pioneers,  though  good  marksmen,  were 
indifferently  armed  for  battle  with  a  large  ani- 
mal protected  by  a  shaggy  coat.  The  small 
bullet  used  was  only  occasionally  fatal.  Hence 
the  "moving  accidents",  the  hand-to-hand  en- 
counters, where  claws  were  matched  with 
knives.  From  these  tales  the  grizzly  bear  looms 
forth  an  ogre  of  the  mountains,  a  legendary 
and  terrible  creature. 

The  grizzly  of  the  present  day,  though  still 
formidable  enough,  is  not  surrounded  with 
such  a  halo  of  terror.  Improved  firearms 
have  taught  the  bear  discretion.  The  hailstorm 
of  lead  pumped  forth  from  a  modern  magazine 


196 


WESTERN  FIELD 


rifle  gives  pause  to  the  most  ferocious  temper. 
Grizzlies,  says  Roosevelt,  do  not  now  attack 
unprovoked,  but  if  cornered  they  come  on  with 
reckless  fury.  A  bear  in  a  tight  place,  boxed 
up  in  a  mountain  cleft  for  example,  is  nearly 
certain  to  turn  on  his  pursuers.  Wounded, 
he  will  fight  to  the  death  against  odds.  Wit- 
nes  the  fate  of  the  soldiers  who,  riding  back 
to  camp,  lightly  chased  and  wounded  a  grizzly. 
The  brute  clawed  one  assailant  off  his  horse, 
and,  when  the  other  dismounted  to  aid  his 
comrade  threw  him  down  and  bit  him  to  death. 
An  intrepid  gallantry  was  shown  by  that  bear 
of  whom  it  is  related  that,  after  being  worsted 
in  a  fight  with  a  stallion,  with  broken  jaw  and 
smashed  face  he  sallied  out  from  cover  to  meet 
the  cowboys  who  had  followed  up  his  tracks. 
There  is  no  questioning  the  courage  of  old 
Ephraim. 

The  black  bear  of  India  sustains  the  family 
character  for  pugnacity.  The  hot  climate  per- 
haps adds  a  dash  of  pepper  to  his  temper,  for 
he  does  not  always  wait  for  an  affront.     This 


variety  is  small  compared  with  the  grizzly, 
weighing  on  the  average  only  300  pounds,  but 
he  is  quite  as  plucky.  One  would  hardly  im- 
agine that  a  bear  would  face  the  huge  moving 
bulk  of  an  elephant.  Yet  they  have  been  ob- 
served to  leave  the  cover  of  the  jungle  and 
actually  stand,  fronting  the  colossus  in  a  de- 
fiant "Come-on !"  attitude,  and  the  giant  has 
taken  fright  and  backed  away  from  this  roar- 
ing David  of  the  woods.  It  is  dangerous  work 
following  one  of  these  bears  when  hit,  for  a 
shot  does  not  always  scare  them  from  charg- 
ing to  close  with  the  hunter.  The  ferocity  of 
the  grizzly  is  said  to  depend  upon  the  amount 
of  resistance  it  is  accustomed  to  meet  with. 
In  the  case  of  the  Indian  bear,  it  may  be  that 
familiarity  with  the  generally  harmless  native 
has  bred  contempt  for  men,  and  that  they  are 
slow  to  apprehend  the  white  man's  power  of 
offense.  Though  not  usually  aggressive,  there 
is  a  determined  quality  of  courage  in  this  bear 
that  makes  it  formidable. 


AUTUMN'S  COMING 


I   SAW  the 
•     A  red  le 


en  Autumn  come — 
her  hair, 

And  timbrels  in  her  hands  to  thrum 
A  wild  and  prankish  air. 


dev 


Her  eyes  were  starry-bright 

Upon  a  verdant  mere, 
Her  crimson  slippers  twinkled  new 

Adown  the   graying   year. 

Her   lips   were   carmine,   cupid-bowed, 

And  seeming,  made  to  kiss — 
If  one  but  knew  the  proper  code 

To  woo  the  madcap  miss! 

And  all  in  flaring  colors,  she 
Bowed  mocking  to  the  breeze, 

And  sang  a  hoiden's  song  to  me, 
And   romped   the  silvered   leas. 

I   saw  the  maiden   Autumn   come — 

A  gipsy  lass,  and  fair, 
With  timbrels  in  her  hands  to  thrum— 

A  red  leaf  in  her  hair. 

— Stacy  E.  Bike 


IN  THE  GOLDEN  DAYS 

THE  crimson  sumac  lims  the  purple  hills 
'       And  in  the  valleys  gleams  the  bundled  grain; 
All  down  the  wooded  way  the  blood-red  glows 
Where  the  queen  Autumn's  hectic  cheek  has  lain; 
And  where  her  hand  has  touched  the  wild  woodbin 
Its  leaves  are  tipped  with  brilliant,  scarlet  stain. 

Far  in  the  distance  yellow,  burnished  clouds 
Of  maple  rain  a  golden  shower-bath; 
All  through  the  stubble  glints  the  tender  green 
Of  grass,  the  meadow's   free-will  aftermath; 
A  whirling  dust  cloud  hazes  toward  the  sun 
Where  cattle  straggle  down  a  beaten  path. 

Down  through  its  golden  bars  the  great  sun  slips; 
The  still,  brief  twilight  hastens,  over-soon; 
A   faint  flush  heralds  from  the  eastern  hills 
And  lo! — she  comes,  the  glorious  Autumn  moon. 
She   comes — and   the   sweet,    radiant   silver   night 
Supplants   the   mellow   golden  afternoon. 

— Grace  G.    Crowell. 


(A 


^       THE  COUP  OF  W.  DUGAN 

4 


By  Maurice  Smiley. 


A- 


^ 


e 


. 


LD  Bill  Dugan  dropped  down  on 
the  diggin's  like  gettin'  money 
from  home.  We  wasn't  expect- 
in'  him,  that's  sure  as  shootin', 
but  he  was  mighty  welcome,  fer 
he  brought  the  finest  letter  o'  in- 
troduction that  the  Ashcroft 
mail  ever  hauled  into  Tincup. 

"Boys,"  says  Bill  after  we  had 
named  our  pizen,  Bill  only  takin' 
a  chaw,  "this  is  my  daughter.  Susan,  the 
boys ;  boys,  Susan."  Then  we  ast  him  to  name 
some  fer  Susan  and  that's  the  way  we  spent 
most  of  the  first  night  after  they  came. 

Bill  hadn't  been  in  the  camp  a  week  before 
every  galoot  was  dippy  over  Sue.  Bill  him- 
self was  as  crazy  as  a  bedbug,  we  could  soon 
see  that.  But  he  was  a  harmless  old  chap  and 
we  jist  sort  of  organized  ourselves  into  a 
committee  of  the  whole  to  see  that  there  was 
always  a  slab  o'  bacon  and  a  peck  or  two  of 
meal  in   Bill's  larder — fer   Susan's   sake. 

We  never  minded  nothin'  that  Bill  done, 
even  when  he  disappeared  at  times  fer  whole 
days.  We  jist  set  it  down  to  his  head.  He 
had  squatted  in  an  old  cabin  that  Bill  Cope- 
land     had     left     behind    because    he    couldn't 


take  it  with  him.  Cope  was  noted  fer  takin' 
about  everything  he  could  lay  his  hands  on. 
In  fact,  he  had  a  mighty  takin'  way  with 
him,   Cope  had. 

Bill  never  thought  to  show  us  any  of  his 
letters,  though  he  got  a  big  one  every  week 
from  Denver.  He  never  lickered  up  and  that 
was  sure  proof  that  he  was  to  the  bad  in  his 
upper  story.  He  had  the  queerest  ideas  about 
cussin'.  Nobody  could  say  nothin'  stronger 
than  "Durn  it!"  in  Bill's  presence  and  we 
soon  found  out  that  if  we  wanted  very  much 
of  Sue's  society  we  had  to  cut  out  the  naughty 
words.  One  day  when  Harve  Johnson  let 
out  a  few  kinks  in  the  blue  line  Bill  showed 
him  the  door  and  it  was  six  weeks  before  he 
seen  the  inside  o'  the  shack  again. 

That  put  a  big  flea  in  our  ears.  So  when- 
we  called  on  Sue  we  used  to  work  the 
religious  racket  overtime.  Some  of  us  got 
badly  mixed  up,  and  I  remember  that  I  came 
out  of  the  little  end  of  the  horn  one  day  when 
I  had  primed  myself  by  studyin'  an  old 
Denver  paper  that  had  a  copy  of  a  sermon  in 
it.  It  was  about  the  letter  to  the  Hebrews  and 
I  thought  I  was  holdin'  four  aces  when  I 
suddenly    ast    Bill    what    he    thought    Minne- 


193 


WESTERN  FIELD 


apolis  meant  in  her  letter  to  the  people  in 
Jerusalem. 

"1  guess  you  mean  St.  Paul,"  remarked 
Bill  and  even  Sue  smiled.  Then  wc  kind  o' 
quit  expoundin'  and  let  old  Bill  do  that  stunt 
hissclf.  Nothin'  seemed  to  please  him  better 
and  we  let  him  do  the  parson  act  while  we 
threw   eyes   at    Sue. 

But  Bill's  great  bughouse  speciality  was 
strikin'  it  rich  in  the  old  holes  in  the  hills 
around  town.  He'd  freeze  onto  some  old 
sewer  that  never  panned  $2  an  acre  and  peg 
away  fer  a  week.  "I'll  strike  it  yit,"  says 
Bill,  says  he.  Then  he'd  try  another.  He 
got  soured  as  this  thing  went  on  fer  a  month 
or  two  until  suddenly  the  wind  changed  to  the 
blizzard  quarter. 

I  thought  I  stood  about  ace  high  with  Sue. 
She  had  played  no  favorites  that  I  could  see, 
but  she  had  a  way  of  showin'  you  when  your 
chips  could  be  cashed  at  her  bank  and  when 
they  couldn't.  One  day  Bill  stood  at  the 
other  end  of  the  trail  I  had  worn  between 
my  shack  and  his.  "You've  tramped  that 
grass  down  and  I'd  kind  o'  like  to  see  it 
pushin'  its  green  head  thro'  the  dirt  again  for 
about  two  weeks,"  says  Bill,  says  he.  That 
meant  fer  me  to  hit  the  trail.  But  Sue  was 
a   brick. 

"Dad's  off,  you  know,"  says  Sue,  "because 
he  hain't  struck  nothin'.  Now  if  he  could 
only  find  a  little  pay  ore  in  one  o'  them  holes 
some  day — nothin'  much;  jist  a  little." 

So  the  next  day  I  kind  o'  quietly  recom- 
mended Bill  to  try  the  Bonnie  Belle,  an  old 
posthole  up  on  Pine  Creek.  Nobody  had  ever 
pulled  six  bits  out  of  it,  and  Bill  went  straight 
up  in  the  air  when  he  picked  up  a  nugget  of 
$200  ore.  Some  folks  wondered  how  it  got 
there  but  I  noticed  that  Bill  let  me  come 
around  the  front  way  some  more. 

Somebody  tipped  the  thing  off  and  soon  Bill 
was  pickin'  up  all  kinds  o'  nuggets.  Sue  give 
me  to  understand  that,  no  matter  how  many 
fellers  came  around,  I  was  the  card  that 
took  the  heart  trick.  But  so  far  as  Bill  was 
concerned  I  noticed  that  the  richer  the  ore 
recommendations  panned  out  the  more  he 
loosened  up  with  Sue,  and  when  I  sunk  $40 
worth  o'  gold-bearin'  porphyry  in  one  day  he 
let  me  take  Sue  to  a  show  down  in  Aspen. 

It  was  nip  an'  tuck  between  the  boys  from 
that  time  until  there  was  a  new  deal.  It  was 
all  good-natured,  though  a  bit  expensive,  as 
long  as  the  fight  was  between  the  old  settlers. 


But  when  the  Peance  gang  butted  in,  there 
was  trouble.  The  Peance  gang  was  a  hard 
crowd.  There  wasn't  more  than  half  a  dozen 
of  them  and  they  herded  pretty  much  to 
theirsclvcs.  When  Jim  Downing  begin  to 
shine  around  an'  dropped  a  hint  that  panned 
out  pretty  good  ore,  the  old  timers  began  to 
git  nervous.  We  always  suspicioned  Jim  of 
knowing  who  was  at  the  other  end  of  the 
rope  that  was  tied  around  Charley  Dailey's 
mare.  And  when  Lambert  Lowary  begin  to 
loosen  up,  two  or  three  of  us  put  a  few  extra 
under  our  belts  an'  begin  to  talk  of  ropes.  It 
was  only  suspicion  on  Jim  Downing,  but 
Lambert  had  once  dealt  me  four  queens  and 
had  a  royal  flush  left. 

That  was  the  kind  of  a  gang  the  Peance 
crowd  was  and  we  all  bucked  good  and  hard 
when  Doc  Eddy  capped  the  climax.  Doc  was 
the  king  pin  of  the  bunch  and  when  he  caught 
cold  the  rest  of  them  sneezed.  They  slept 
with  the  same  winder  open.  Doc  and  his 
bunch  hadn't  been  in  camp  a  week  before  the 
stage  was  shy  a  shipment  of  pay-money  for 
the  Smuggler.  It  was  stopped  three  times  in 
two  months.  Doc  always  had  what  the  lawyers 
call  an  alibi,  to  show  that  he  was  somewhere 
else  when  he  done  the  job.  But  we  all  would 
have  swore  on  a  pile  of  new  decks  that  the 
Peance  gang  was  at  the  bottom  of  it  and 
we  didn't  notice  that  Bill  was  usually  absent 
about  the  time  of  the  holdups.  We  was  so 
sure  we  didn't  try  no  detective  business  an' 
Sherlock  Holmes  couldn't  have  given  us  no 
pointers. 

Whenever  we  talked  of  the  general  cussed- 
ness  going  on  around  the  diggin's,  we  couldn't 
prove  nothin'  except  that  since  the  Peance 
crowd  came  over  the  range  there  had  been 
more  steers  cut  out,  more  horses  run  off, 
more  holdups  and  more  good  ore  stolen  than 
since  the  Hooper  gang  had  stopped  with  us 
a  few  weeks.  So  when  Doc  Eddy  began  to 
sow  pay  ore  like  No.  2  winter  wheat  in  a 
fonr-sided  draw,  we  all  kicked  like  a  maverick 
gittin'  branded.  I  used  to  be  a  justice  of  the 
peace's  constable  before  the  justice  started  a 
saloon,  so  I  was  deputized  to  call  on  Sue  on 
behalf  of  the  old  settlers  and  protest  against 
the  Peance  gang  bein'  allowed  to  buy  any 
chips  in  the  game.  I  got  a  frost  that  would 
have  kept  a  snowball  frappeed  in  hades. 

"You  return  to  your  companions,"  says  Sue, 
says  she,  as  near  as  I  kin  remember,  "and 
inform    them     that     the    best     bronco     buster 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


199 


among  'em  haint  got  no  cinch  on  me.  Dad  and 
me  will  do  just  as  we  please."  Then  Sue 
drawed  herself  up  like  we  seen  the  leadin' 
lady  do  in  the  show  at  Aspen.  Then  she  kind 
o'  thawed  out  after  a  while  an'  purred  like  a 
kitten  that's  just  scratched  a  chunk  of  hide 
out  of  you. 

"Don't  feel  bad,"  says  Sue,  says  she.  "It'll 
all  come  right  in  the  end.  Dad's  off,  you 
know,  but  nobody  can  take  my  heart  from  me 
while  I  ain't  looking  and  I've  got  my  lamps 
all  trimmed  and  burning."  So  that  give  me 
another  tip  an'  the  old  settlers  kind  o'  drawed 
off  an'  let  the  Peance  bunch  spend  their  good 
coin  buyin'  our  good  ore.  We  all  cleaned  up 
quite  a  bunch  out  of  the  Peance  crowd  an' 
that  give  us  another  idee. 

"Sue,"  says  I,  one  day,  "why  can't  you  put 
a  stop  to  this  whole  business?  We  all  can't 
git  you  an'  it  ain't  fair,  even  to  the  Peance 
gang,  to  make  'em  go  broke  in  a  skin  game." 
Which  is  all  a  beauty  contest  is,  any  way.  Sue 
knowed  what  I  meant  an'  tho'  she  tried  to  let 
on  it  was  all  very  sudden  she  never  fooled 
me.  But  it  took  her  a  long  time  to  come 
round  to  my  plan  to  git  married,  an'  cut  the 
whole  thing  out,  an'  go  east  an'  live  like  white 
folks.  She  wouldn't  git  married  in  Tincup  by 
a  magistrate,  but  stuck  out  fer  Ashcroft  where 
there  was  a  regular  sky  pilot. 

"Dad'd  shoot  the  top  of  your  head  off  if  he 
caught  us,"  says  Sue,  says  she.  "We  can 
send  for  him  after  it's  all  over."  It  wasn't 
nothin'  to  me,  so  I  agreed.  It  was  fixed  up 
that  I  should  bring  two  horses  an'  all  my 
belongings  to  Campbell's  bridge,  four  miles 
below  town,  at  eight  o'clock  on  a  certain  night. 
I  was  so  blamed  full  of  my  own  business  that 
I  didn't  suspect  nothin'  when  there  seemed  to 
be  a  regular  sellin'  out  an'  pullin'  up  of  stakes 
all  over  Tincup,  especially  among  the  Peance 
gang.  I  could  have  bought  a  Mexican  saddle 
fer  $2.25,  but  I  didn't  tumble.  Some  of  the 
old  settlers  got  the  Goldfield  fever  all  of  a 
sudden,  but  you  couldn't  have  tunneled  thro' 
my  head  with  a  diamond  drill.   You  can,  now. 

I  got  my  traps  together  an'  at  two  minutes 
to  eight  on  the  night  agreed  I  loped  down  to 
the  bridge.  I  passed  Jim  Downing  on  the  way, 
but  didn't  think  nothin'  of  it.  When  I  got 
to  the  bridge  I  whistled  twice  an'  Sue 
answered  it.     That  was  the  signal.    The  next 


instant  a  pair  of  arms  like  the  paws  of  a 
grizzly  bear  was  around  my  neck  an'  I  found 
myself  layin'  on  the  ground  with  Bill  Dugan's 
right  hand  over  my  mouth. 

"Not  a  word  or  you  will  spoil  it  all,"  he 
cried.  "This  is  a  matter  that  requires  the 
utmost  secrecy  and   I  can  take  no  chances." 

I  hadn't  never  heard  Bill  use  such  fine 
language  before  an'  all  I  done  was  to  stare. 
Purty  soon  I  seen  Sue  standin'  to  one  side 
laughin'  fit  to  kill. 

"I  don't  see  the  joke,"  says  I,  feelin'  like 
three   plugged   dimes. 

Sue  quit  givin'  me  the  laugh  an'  then  she 
talked  real  kind.  "There  will  be  no  elopement, 
Mr.  Simpson,"  says  Sue,  says  she.  "If  you 
will  assist  us  you  will  not  regret  it.  Other- 
wise we  shall  have  to  act  by  ourselves." 
When  I  heard  the  explanation  of  the  affair, 
I  promised  to  help  in  a  jiffy. 

There  was  a  whistle  out  in  the  road  just 
then  an'  five  minutes  later  we  had  Jim  Down- 
ing and  his  little  bundle  of  wordly  goods  lay- 
in'  alongside  of  each  other.  Jim  was  cussin' 
something  scandalous,  but  Bill  just  poked  a 
stick  of  wood  in  his  face.  Inside  of  half  an 
hour  every  blamed  galoot  in  the  Peance  crowd 
an'  two  or  three  of  the  old  settlers  was 
trussed  up  like  turkeys.  Sue  had  planned  an 
elopement   with   every  blasted  one   of  them ! 

Doc  Eddy  was  the  last  one  corraled  and  he 
made  the  air  blue  even  thro'  his  gag.  "I  am 
sure,  Mr.  Simpson,"  says  Bill,  "you  will 
excuse  the  inconvenience  to  which  we  have 
put  you,  but  we  could  take  absolutely  no  one 
into  our  confidence  and  we  could  not  discrim- 
inate in  favor  of  one  party  without  arousing 
suspicions.  We  were  after  the  Peance  gang 
and  simply  took  our  own  way  of  getting  them. 
We  have  kept  a  careful  estimate  of  the 
outlay  made  by  each  of  you  in  our  behalf  and 
it  will  be  refunded  to  you.  Dick  Bennett 
always  pays  his  debts." 

Dick  Bennet !  The  cleverest  detective  west 
of  Chicago! 

"Keep  the  change,"  says  I.  "It  was  worth 
it.  Sometimes  I  play  the  green  myself.  But 
I  really  think  you  might  a'  let  me  in,"  says  I, 
turnin'  to   Sue. 

"Well,  you  come  an'  see  us  when  you  come 
to  Denver,  and  we'll  both  let  you  in,"  says 
Mrs.  Dick,  says  she. 


SOUTH  COAST  SHOOTING 

^->  By  "Stiixhuntek." 


=0 


IX.    THE  BAND-TAILED  PIGEON. 


NE  of  the  least  known  game  birds 
of  California,  yet  one  of  the 
hardest  to  shoot,  and  a  fairly 
good  variation  of  the  usual 
game  diet  of  quail  and  rabbits 
and  deer  while  one  is  in  the 
mountains,  is  the  band-tailed 
pigeon  of  the  higher  hills. 

To  the  scattergun  man 
accustomed  to  stand  two  or 
three  hours  of  an  afternoon  in  the  shade  of  a 
sheltering  tree  at  the  edge  of  a  wheat  field, 
bringing  down  five  out  of  seven  of  the  doves 
that  pass  over  him  on  their  way  to  or  from 
their  feeding  grounds ;  to  the  quail  enthusiast 
or  the  snipe  shooter,  who  with  the  aid  of  his 
wide-ranging  dogs  can  find  good  sport  in 
almost  any  mesa  or  lowlying  marsh,  the 
shooting  of  these  mountain  pigeons  will  not 
appeal.  The  work  of  getting  them  is  out 
of  all  proportion  to  the  birds  obtained,  and 
it  is  practically  impossible  to  hunt  them  suc- 
cessfully alone,  two  great  orawbacks  to  any 
sort  of  hunting. 

But  the  band-tail  when  found,  high  in  the 
piney  slopes  of  the  real  mountains  or  driven 
down  to  the  oak  flats  by  the  constant  pres- 
sure of  deep  snows,  is  one  of  the  finest  of 
birds  for  the  hunter  who  has  the  stamina  to 
carry  a  heavy  duck  gun  through  the  canons 
all  day  and  to  shoot  three  and  a  half  drams  of 
powder  under  an  ounce  and  a  quarter  of  shot, 
and  do  it  every  time  he  sees  a  bird. 

Ten  of  these  hill  pigeons  is  a  good  day's 
bag  for  any  hunter,  I  care  not  how  ex- 
perienced he  is  or  how  well  he  knows  the 
California  mountains  through  which  he  hunts. 
And  the  birds  are  not  disappearing  through 
any  inroads  hunters  are  making  on  their 
ranks;  in  fact,  there  are  as  many  band-tails 
in  the  California  hills  today  as  there  were  the 
first  day  I  ever  saw  one  of  the  pigeons,  many 
years  ago  on  the  northern  face  of  old  Mount 
San  Antonio,  better  known  as  "Baldy." 

First  of  all,  this  bird  should  not  be  mixed 
with  the  common  turtle  or  mourning  dove, 
found   in    every   field   of   the    Southwest.      A 


much  larger  bird,  the  prevailing  tone  of  whose 
plumage  is  blue,  the  band-tail  is  seldom  if  ever 
seen  in  the  lowlands,  and  then  only  when,  as 
rarely  happens,  it  is  driven  out  of  the  moun- 
tains by  the  cold  and  heavy  snows  of  winter. 

Then  it  comes  down  only  so  far  as  may  be 
necessary  to  escape  the  rigors  of  its  summer 
home,  and  returns  just  as  soon  as  the  snow 
begins  to  melt  with  the  first  warm  days  of 
the  California  spring.  In  either  place  the 
birds  are  the  embodiment  of  life.  Gifted  with 
long,  splendidly  proportioned  wings,  and  sets 
of  thick,  stout  muscles  across  the  breast,  they 
can  hurl  themselves  through  the  air  at  a  speed 
rivaling  that  of  the  famed  teal  duck. 

Half  the  band  shot  at  on  the  wing  are 
missed ;  and  three-quarters  of  this  half  go  scot 
free,  not  because  the  shooter  has  not  estimated 
his  distance  correctly,  nor  allowed  enough  for 
their  speed,  but  because  the  birds  unless  hit 
in  a  vital  spot  can  carry  away  so  much  shot. 
In  the  Big  Tejunga,  up  above  the  San  Fer- 
nando valley,  I  have  seen  one  of  these  pigeons, 
hit  in  midair  with  a  charge  of  sixes,  turn  com- 
pletely over  and  keep  right  on  going,  being 
brought  down  about  two  hundred  yards 
further  up  the  canon  by  another  hunter. 

For  experiment,  the  carcass  of  this  bird  was 
cut  up  by  myself  and  another  equally  curious 
hunter.  In  the  muscles  were  lodged  twelve  of 
those  number  six  shot,  and  but  for  the  fact 
that  the  thirteenth,  presumably  fired  by  the 
second  man,  had  pierced  the  bird's  heart,  he 
probably  would  have  been  going  yet. 

There  is  no  law  on  the  band-tails,  and  now 
that  the  duck  season  is  over  and  the  quail  time 
still  to  come — I  am  writing  this  in  May — the 
big  blue  fellows  fill  in  an  agreeable  manner  a 
barren  niche  in  the  twelve  months'  round  of 
sports.  To  constant  residents  in  the  moun- 
tains they  furnish  an  unending  supply  of  game, 
and  can  be  kept  for  years  in  a  locality  by 
careful  shooting  and  the  use  of  good  judg- 
ment on  the  part  of  residents. 

They  certainly  are  an  attractive  addition 
to  the  avifauna  of  California  mountains,  and 
are  the  one  bird  which,  along  with  the  turkey 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


201 


yulture  in  the  lowlands,  is  in  no  danger — 
imminent  at  least — of  extinction.  Perched  in 
the  branches  of  a  pine  or  an  oak  tree  they 
are  practically  invisible  until  the  hunter  passes 
directly  under  the  tree.  Occasionally — two 
specific  instances  of  this  occurred  in  my  ex- 
perience— they  will  walk  around  a  tree  trunk, 
much  the  same  way  that  ruffed  grouse  are 
said  to  do  in  the  East,  keeping  the  trunk 
between  themselves  and  the  hunter,  making 
no  noise  but  refusing  to  fly. 

To  hunt  such  birds  as  these,  of  course,  a 
dog  is  of  but  little  use,  unless  it  be  to  retrieve 
dead  birds.  And  you  can  be  assured  that 
when  you  pull  one  of  these  band-tails  out  of 
the  air  with  your  load  of  sixes,  he  is  dead 
enough  to  lie  where  he  falls  for  all  the  rest 
of  time  else  he  had  never  come  to  earth.  The 
best  way  to  hunt  these  pigeons — and  I  speak 
not  so  much  from  my  own  experience,  which 
has  been  limited  to  a  few  weeks  with  them 
in  all  my  shooting  life,  as  from  that  of  others 
whom  I  have  known — is  in  company.  Two 
can  hunt  band-tails  better  than  one,  and  four 
can  have  better  success  than  two.  Beyond 
four,  however,  the  party  usually  becomes  un- 
wieldy and  the  game  is  not  as  good  as  it 
can  be  made  for  the  smaller  party. 

Coming  up  a  canon  in  the  mountains,  or 
going  down  some  north  slope,  you  will  see  a 
pigeon  dip  into  a  pine  tree ;  presently  you  will 
make  out  three  or  four  perched  in  the  upper 
branches  of  the  same  tree.  Carefully,  like  as 
you  would  stalk  a  black-tail  or  a  mountain 
sheep  or  a  feeding  sage  grouse,  you  creep  up 
the  canon,  keeping  in  the  shelter  of  the  slope 
or  in  the  shadow  of  the  pines.  Not  a  stone 
rolls  beneath  your  feet  if  you  are  lucky;  not  a 
twig  cracks  in  your  fingers  as  you  put  aside 
a  branch  here  and  there.  Suddenly  you  stand 
within  easy  range.  Up  comes  the  old  twelve- 
bore — for  you  are  after  pigeons  and  a  sitting 
shot  is  as  good  as  any.  Down  the  midrib  you 
see  one  of  the  blue  coated  fellows  sitting  up 
in  the  bright  light  of  the  afternoon  sun. 

You  press  the  trigger,  and  as  the  crack  of 
the  nitro  rings  out  through  the  hills  all  the 
way  from  six  to  a  hundred  pigeons  burst  from 
the  tree.  You  did  not  see  them,  not  before 
you  fired  at  any  rate;  quite  probably  they  did 
not  see  you,  but  they  were  there  all  the  same, 
and  the  way  they  got  out  of  that  pine  tangle 
would  have  put  a  teal  or  a  canvas-back  to 
shame  in  a  minute.  If  your  aim  has  been 
good,  your   load   heavy   enough   and  the   god 


of  Chance  on  your  side,  your  bird  comes 
tumbling  down  out  of  the  pine.  Possibly  he 
sticks  up  there  a  few  hundred  feet  from  the 
ground  on  a  pestiferous  little  branch  no  bigger 
than  your  finger,  and  you  have  to  shoot  him 
down  or  climb  the  tree,  the  latter  of  which  is 
no  cinch  and  generally  puts  some  little  crimp 
in  your  hunting  legs  for  the  remainder  of  the 
afternoon. 

Flights  of  these  pigeons  are  few  and  far 
between.  A  few  such  have  come  under  my 
notice,  however,  but  for  the  most  part  these 
were  across  small,  low-lying  valleys  and  the 
birds  flew  so  high  that  nothing  short  of  a 
rifle  could  reach  them  with  killing  force.  Up 
around  Newhall  and  over  in  the  Simi  valley 
there  was  at  one  time  such  a  flight;  whether 
it  still  maintains  its  customary  quota  of  morn- 
ing and  evening  band-tails,  I  do  not  know. 
This  year  the  best  sport  with  the  big  pigeons 
has  been  down  in  the  San  Diego  county 
mountains,  particularly  around  Fallbrook  and 
Escondido. 

In  Lower  California  there  are  more  of  the 
band-tails  than  anywhere  else  in  the  world, 
and  their  feeding  grounds  in  the  interior  of 
the  peninsula  are  said  to  resemble  those  of 
the  passenger  pigeons  in  the  old  days  in 
Minnesota  and  Ohio.  Occasionally  a  tall, 
dead  tree  can  be  found,  barren  of  leaves  and 
from  which  a  view  can  be  obtained  for  miles 
around.  Where  such  a  tree  stands  in  the  line 
of  flight  of  the  band-tails  a  good  bag  generally 
can  be  picked  from  it  by  a  hunter  hid  in  the 
brush  near  by.  For  this  sort  of  shooting, 
which  is  the  best  way  for  a  man  hunting 
alone  to  adopt,  a  small  bore  rifle,  .22  or  .25-20 
caliber,  is  the  arm  to  use  to  get  the  best 
results.  The  small  rifle  makes  less  noise  than 
the  shotgun ;  practically  all  the  hidden 
hunter's  shots  will  be  at  sitting  birds,  and 
he  can  make  a  clean  kill  practically  every 
time  he  pulls  the  trigger. 

One  such  tree  at  one  time  stood  at  the  head 
of  what  is  known  as  "Indian  Canon"  in  the 
San  Fernando  hills.  It  was  a  tall  pine,  guilt- 
less of  branches  save  for  one  which  sprang 
from  the  naked  trunk  about  three  feet  from 
the  top  and  a  good  seventy  feet  from  the 
ground.  At  a  distance  of  about  one  hundred 
feet  from  the  base  of  this  old  skeleton  there 
was  good  cover  on  practically  all  sides.  I  was 
encamped  with  my  father  at  his  bee  ranch  in 
the  bed  of  the  canon  at  this  time,  and  I  had 


202 


IVESTERX  FIELD 


the  best  pigeon  shooting  I  have  ever  seen  out 
of  this  old  tree. 

I  used  a  .22  rifle,  shooting  long  rifle 
cartridges,  and  any  bird  squarely  hit  by  one 
of  these  little  pellets  of  lead  was  as  good  as 
dead.  Now  and  then  one  of  them  would  fly 
a  couple  of  hundred  feet  down  over  the  canon 
and  then  drop,  but  they  all  flew  down  and  out, 
never  up,  and  all  were  stone  dead  when  they 
fell,  so  that  I  did  not  have  such  a  difficult 
time  getting  them. 

1  imagine  that  the  .25-20  rifle,  using  steel- 
jacketed  bullets  only  so  that  they  cut  a  clean 
hole  and  went  right  on  through  without  tear- 
ing the  bird  to  pieces,  would  be  even  a  surer 
weapon  for  this  game  than  the  .22,  but  for 
these  pigeons,  along  with  nine-tenths  of  the 
other  game  of  this  part  of  the  country,  the 
small  rifle  of  any  standard  make  is  the  prime 
weapon  for  the  man  who  merely  wants  to  kill 
enough  to  supply  his  needs  and  then  quit,  as 
every  shooter  should  do. 

The  fear  of  man  is  ingrained  more  deeply 
in  the  band-tailed  pigeon  than  in  any  other 
bird  or  mammal  of  the  Southwest.  This  alone 
puts  them  at  once  in  a  class  of  hard  creatures 
to  hunt,  and  the  man  who  can  go  out  into  the 
mountains  and  pick  up  a  good  bag  of  these 
birds  must  be  given  credit,  not  alone  for 
knowing  his  hunting  ground,  but  of  being  a 
mighty  clever  stalker  at  that. 

During  the  breeding  season,  which  begins 
late  in  May  and  runs  through  July,  the  band- 
tail  travel  in  pairs ;  at  other  times  of  the  year, 
notably  after  the  first  snowfall,  they  are  to 
be  found  in  bands  of  from  half  a  dozen  to 
several  hundred,  though  flocks  of  the  latter 
size  are  very  rare.  In  the  nesting  season  they 
retire  to  the  higher  mountains,  frequenting 
such  peaks  as  Waterman,  San  Gorgonio,  San 
Bernardino,  Wilson's,  San  Antonio,  and 
Smith  mountain  in  Southern  California. 
Many  are  said  to  breed  each  season  on 
Tehachapi  Peak,  and  around  the  headwaters 
of   the    Kern    River. 

The  nest  itself  is  a  rude  platform  of  sticks, 
like  that  of  the  mourning  dove  only  larger, 
and  has  little  or  no  rim  around  it.  This 
home  is  placed  on  the  horizontal  limb  of  a 
pine  or  an  oak,  in  a  crotch  formed  by 
vertical  branches  where  possible.  It  is  lined 
sparsely  with  bark  fibers  and  a  poorer  cradle 
of  finer  sticks  than  those  of  which  the  out- 
side is  composed. 

In  this  nest  are  laid  two  eggs,  nearly  equal 
ended   and   pure   white,   slightly   smaller   than 


those  of  the  domestic  pigeon  but  considerably 
larger  than  those  of  the  mourning  dove.  The 
period  of  incubation  is  between  two  and  three 
weeks,  and  the  young  when  newly  hatched 
are  the  same  feathcrless  ugly  birdlings  as  are 
the  young  of  the  mourner.  For  many  days 
they  are  fed  by  the  parent  birds  by  regurgi- 
tation— that  is,  the  food  is  first  swallowed, 
and  then,  when  partially  digested,  is  forced 
out  of  the  mouth  of  the  adults  into  the 
throat  of  the  young  pigeon.  This  is  the 
common  method  of  feeding  all  young  pigeons 
and  is  as  much  the  habit  of  the  tiny  Mexican 
ground  doves  as  of  the  huge  band-tails  with 
which  we  are  dealing. 

Most  of  the  food  of  these  pigeons  is  made 
up  of  acorns ;  this  gives  to  the  flesh,  except  of 
the  very  young  birds,  a  strong  flavor,  dis- 
agreeable to  many.  The  meat  itself  is  dark 
but  fine  grained,  and  when  prepared  in  the 
ordinary  manner  is  apt  to  be  passed  up  even 
by  the  most  enthusiastic  hunter  after  one 
taste.  If,  however,  the  birds  when  picked 
and  dressed  are  laid  over  night  in  strong  brine, 
flavored  with  vinegar  or  lemon  juice,  they 
are  as  good  broiled  or  in  a  pot  pie  as  any 
bird  on  the  hunter's  list.  Band-tail  squabs 
are  delicious,  and  for  those  who  like  squabs, 
(which  I  class  with  tripe,  kidneys,  brains, 
young  veal  and  other  indelicacies  of  the  human 
table,)  there  is  no  game  like  the  hunting  of 
the  nests  of  these  birds  and  the  taking  there- 
from  of   the   squabs. 

Once  robbed  the  birds  usually  fall  to  work 
on  another  nest  and  raise  a  second  brood,  even 
though  the  young  taken  were  almost  grown. 
This  tends  to  keep  the  band-tailed  population 
up  and  to  keep  the  pines  and  the  oaks  filled 
with  the  big  active  birds.  Their  call  is  deeper 
and  more  sonorous  than  that  of  the  mourn- 
ing dove,  approaching  in  volume  if  not  equal- 
ing that  of  the  tame  pigeon,  and  the  hunter 
who  goes  to  the  mountains  unacquainted  with 
the  band-tails,  is  apt  to  think  on  his  first  night 
or  two  out  that  he  is  not  so  very  far  from 
civilization  and  its  attendant  barnyards,  after 
all. 

With  no  more  apparent  reason  than  the 
old-time  flights  of  the  passenger  pigeon, 
flights  of  band-tails  occur  in  certain  portions 
of  their  range  during  almost  every  fall.  But 
there  is  this  difference  between  these  Cali- 
fornia birds  and  the  famed  passengers :  the 
former  do  not  come  in  such  large  numbers, 
and  their  flights  from  the  mountains  to  the 
oak  flats  and  back  again  are  very  irregular. 


0tp 

AN   INDIAN   CRY 

crab 

By  Emily  J.  Hamilton. 


HE  Anglo-Saxon  may  swell 
with  pride  and  imagine  him- 
self a  champion  of  the  weak, 
when  he  hears  voiced  his  own 
call  from  within  to  "Take  up 
the  White  Man's  Burden." 
But  if  he  wishes  from  the 
past  to  glean  wisdom  for  the 
future,  to  temper  his  great 
confidence  in  himself  as 
keeper  of  his  weaker  brother,  to  feel,  per- 
haps, the  galling  weight  of  that  burden,  let 
him  spend  one  terrible  night  at  an  Indian 
"Cry."  This  is  the  annual  funeral  of  a 
dying  race,  for  whom,  the  white  brother, 
by  his  own  acts,  has  made  himself  respon- 
sible. 

The  Indian  still  clings  to  his  ancestral 
soil,  living  close  to  Mother  Nature.  So 
that  the  white  man  of  poetic  sentiment 
often  tells  us  that  the  Indian  is  well  off 
as  he  is — that  he  is  happier  than  the  white 
man  disgusted  with  higher  civilization. 
This  worthy  citizen  will  tell  you  that  he 
wishes  that  he,  too,  might  "go  back  to  the 
blanket,"  forgetting  that  he  has  no  blanket 
to  go  back  to,  but  only  a  damp  cave,  per- 
haps, where  he  would  be  obliged  to  strangle 
and  skin  the  rival  occupant  to  get  its  pelt 
to  wear;  forgetting,  also,  that  black  melan- 
choly enshrouds  poor  Lo! 

The  types  range  from  the  stalwart,  giant 
Sioux,  with  strong,  often  Roman  face,  with 
his  smoldering  wrath  of  generations  madly 
breaking  forth  in  warfare  until  it  burns 
itself  out  and  surrenders  to  the  superior 
force  of  the  United  States  soldiery,  to  the 
tame  California  "Digger,"  with  his  big 
hulk  of  a  body,  his  slouching  gait,  his  occa- 
sional industry,  his  tendency  to  drunken- 
ness and  consumption,  and  his  hopeless  out- 
look. Their  tendency,  even  when  educated, 
to  revert  to  the  tepee,  only  proves  that  you 
cannot  make  an  oak  out  of  a  pine. 

Not  quite  two  miles  out  of  Nevada  City, 
California,  is  a  small  Indian  settlement 
called  "The  Campooda."    Here,  just  within 


the  limits  of  a  government  reservation,  a 
half  dozen  little  shacks  and  a  wood-bark 
tepee  shelter  the  remnant  of  a  once  pros- 
perous tribe.  The  men  now  work  at  odd 
jobs,  and  the  women  weave  baskets  or 
search  for  cast-off  gold  ore  in  the  dumps 
from  the  mines  or  in  the  creek  beds.  A 
few  years  ago  a  forest  fire  consumed  their 
huts,  but  charitable  citizens  raised  five  hun- 
dred dollars  and  rebuilt  their  present  cabins. 
Their  dusky  brothers  have  not  proved  un- 
grateful: a  case  of  their  stealing  from  the 
whites  has  not  been  known  for  years, 
though  they  are  poor  and  are  often  obliged 
to  beg. 

Late  in  October,  we  heard  that  the  In- 
dians were  coming  from  their  mountain 
camps  for  a  hundred  miles  around  to  the 
Indian  burial  ground  a  mile  beyond  the 
Campooda,  to  hold  their  annual  Cry.  They 
had  chosen  the  time  in  the  month  when 
the  moon  hid  her  face  from  men.  Two 
nights  and  a  day  they  would  camp  under 
the  trees,  huddling  close  to  the  dust  of 
their  loved  ones,  and  feast  and  cry.  When 
the  morning  star  should  arise  on  the  sec- 
ond night,  they  would  assuage  their  own 
grief  by  burning  their  baskets  and  winter 
clothing  as  a  sacrifice  and  comfort  to  those 
gone  beyond. 

Just  before  sunset  the  first  night,  a  party 
of  us  went  out  to  visit  them.  In  a  pic- 
turesque clearing — a  natural  amphitheatre, 
walled  about  with  pines  and  wooded  hills, 
and  roofed  over  by  its  dome  of  blue — we 
found  them  grouped  round  their  family 
camp-fires.  These  girdled  a  knoll  in  the 
center,  whose  half-dozen  mounds,  decorated 
with  carefully  planted  shrubs,  mutely  be- 
spoke their  inmates.  No  head-stone  with 
record  of  age  and  name  satisfied  our 
curiosity.  But  we  knew  that  hundreds  had 
been  buried  in  the  mound.  For  many  years 
ago,  they  used  to  cremate  the  bodies  and 
deposit  the  ashes  there;  while  now  they 
lay  their  dead  to  rest  in  cheap  coffins,  the  best 
that  they  can  afford.    And  where  a  remnant  of 


204 


WESTERN  FIELD 


thirty  mourners  now  gather  at  the  annual 
Cry,  in  the  'forties  five  hundred  met  in 
common  sorrow. 

The  young  men  had  gone  down  to  the 
stream  near  by  to  cut  more  of  the  slender, 
long  poles  to  serve  in  the  final  ceremony 
at  the  great  bonfire.  But  the  women, 
guarded  by  one  stalwart  buck,  placed  hot 
stones  in  their  beautiful  baskets  of  acorn 
soup  and  raked  strings  of  mutton  chops 
from  the  ashes.  They  eagerly  accepted 
our  proffer  of  sandwiches  and  apples  to 
add  to  their  meager  "feast."  They  had  not 
tarred  their  faces  after  the  old  custom,  but 
wore  black  or  red  handkerchiefs  closely 
tied  over  their  smooth,  coarse  hair  and 
about  their  ears ;  like  Gypsies,  they  sat  or  lay 
about  the  camp-fires. 

In  one  group  a  young  girl  giggled  when 
we  asked  her  name,  and  rolled  in  the  grass 
like  a  pleased  kitten.  We  learned  that  she 
was  the  bride  of  the  attentive  guard.  He 
removed  his  cigarette  from  his  lips  and 
waved  it  mournfully  toward  the  group  of 
women  where  his  undisciplined  little  squaw 
idled  in  the  red  glow  of  the  setting  sun. 
"That's  all  the  family  I've  got  left.  Brothers 
all  dead.  Indians  all  die,"  he  said,  with 
an  odd  choke  in  his  voice,  an  echo  of  the 
wail  that  I  have  heard  every  time  that  I 
had  visited   the   Campooda. 

In  a  sheltering  enclosure  of  logs  around 
another  fire  I  recognized,  in  a  haggard 
young  squaw,  the  widowed  mother  of  the 
cooing  papoose  that  I  had  coaxed  into  a 
smile  over  a  big  orange  two  years  before. 
She  sat  lone  and  silent  as  ever.  I  enquired 
for  him  but  her  quiet  answer,  "He  didn't 
come,"  failed  to  allay  my  fears.  The  only 
child  present,  a  little  pale  brown  maid  an- 
swering to  the  name  of  "Susie,"  flashed  a 
beautiful  smile  into  my  camera  while  she 
accepted  a  rosy  apple. 

In  the  center  of  this  group  sat  Betsy, 
the  mother  of  the  sad  li"  tie  widow,  and 
mother  of  the  Campooda.  It  is  she  who 
gathers  the  willows  and  ferns  and  makes 
the  finest  baskets.  She  alone  knows  all 
the  beautiful  nature  myths  that  are  woven 
as  symbols  into  their  artistic  designs.  Her 
fingers  are  growing  slow  and  her  eyes  peer 
dazed  out  of  her  withered  face,  for  they 
are  bleared  by  the  many  camp-fires.  She 
no  longer  sells  her  baskets.     She  is  saving 


them    all    for    their    burning    on    her    own 
grave. 

"Betsy,"  I  said,  "I  have  a  picture  of  you 
at  my  house.  I'll  bring  it  out  to  the 
Campooda  soon." 

"No,"  she  grunted,  "I  don't  care  for  the 
picture;  bring  me  an  old  dress."  And 
sadly  would  she  need  it  after  the  sacrifice. 
Seeing  that  they  considered  us  in- 
truders— rightly,  perhaps — I  ventured,  "We 
really  feel  very  sorry  for  your  people,  Betsy. 
We  don't  come  to  make  fun  nor  to  meddle." 

A  cynical  laugh  burst  from  her  aged 
throat.  She  passed  the  joke  around  in  her 
own  tongue.  The  shout  of  laughter  that 
rose  was  not  sweet  to  hear. 

Finding  that  their  first  all-night's  cry 
would  not  begin  until  every  one  had  ar- 
rived, we  retraced  our  steps  through  the 
glooming  shadows  of  the  green  pines,  and 
on  through  the  charred  forest,  where  the 
sun  glowed  like  the  heart  of  a  dying  fire 
in  a  barred  grate.  Here  we  met  the  belated 
pilgrims;  a  young  squaw  on  horseback, 
appareled  in  cheap  calico  gown  and  rose- 
decked  leghorn  hat,  rode  like  a  lady;  and 
at  another  turn,  a  large  spring  wagon,  laden 
with  Indian  men  of  all  shapes  and  sizes, 
the  .chief  in  the  center  driving  a  "flea-bit- 
ten" white  horse,  and  the  small  boy  prop- 
erly hanging  on  behind,  clattered  down 
upon  us;  we  had  barely  escaped  a  tragic 
scene  when  the  last  gray  veteran  from  the 
Campooda,  with  rifle  slung  across  his  back 
like  a  quiver  of  arrows,  accosted  us  with 
smiles  and  information,  and  moved  on  to- 
wards the  burying  ground. 

Three  o'clock,  two  mornings  later,  our  party, 
shrunken  to  a  small  group  composed  of  the 
six  most  intrepid,  silently  tramped  forth  under 
the  starlit,  moonless  sky.  The  great  dome 
glowed  above  us  white  as  mist  though  the 
mountain  air  was  perfectly  dry  and  clear.  At 
the  crest  of  the  hill  we  plunged  into  the  weird, 
blackened  forest  of  pines,  and  left  behind  us 
the  city  twinkling  with  many  lights  in  the 
deep  hollow  like  dying  ashes  in  a  volcanic 
crater. 

Suddenly  the  morning  star  gleamed  brilliant 
above  a  spiny  ridge,  as  if  conscious  that  it 
must  do  duty  for  the  moon,  and  darted  pris- 
matic rays  through  the  shadows.  Then  there 
burst  upon  the  stillness  a  dismal  wail,  not  un- 
like the  distant  cry  of  wolves.    We  scurried  on 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


205 


through  the  dead  forest,  the  skeletons  of  the 
trees  flinging  wild  arms  toward  the  steel- 
clad  heavens,  symbol  of  the  passing  race  that 
mourned  in  the  wood  beyond,  until  we  glided 
into  the  deeper  shadows  of  the  fresh  green 
pines.  Now  we  could  see  the  great  red  eye  of 
the  big  camp-fire  on  the  mound  glowing 
through  the  branches,  and  could  count  the 
swaying  forms  about  the  fire. 

Fearfully  we  slipped  out  of  the  tangle  of 
shadows,  across  the  open  fire-lit  space,  and 
ambushed  ourselves  behind  the  manzanita 
bushes  that  skirted  their  circle.  But  we  were 
not  sly  enough  for  them.  Dark  forms  began 
to  prowl  round  us,  hedging  us  in.  We  had 
hoped  not  to  disturb  their  ceremony  and  not 
till  it  was  over  did  the  dogs  hear  us  and  set 
up  a  yapping  that  sent  us  scuttling  homeward 
through  the  shadows  like  quail.  Even  then 
one  of  the  bucks  headed  us  off,  but  upon  one 
of  our  "braves"  boldly  venturing  a  "Good 
morning !"  he  apologized  that  he  "was  only 
looking  for  his  horses." 

From  our  ambush  we  saw  every  figure  dis- 
tinctly, from  the  dark-robed  priest  whose 
melancholy  chant  rose  to  meet  the  musical  wail 
and  bitter  sobbing  of  the  crouching  women,  to 
the  stoical  young  braves  who  stood  outlined 
against  the  red  fire  in  their  loose  shirts,  broad 
hats  and  belted  trousers. 

Partly  surrounding  the  group  and  forming 
a  brilliant  background,  were  the  tall  decorated 
poles  placed  upright  in  a  semicircle ;  they  were 
all  hung  with  pitiful  offerings  to  the  dead : 
cheap  white  shirts,  yet  better  than  the  living 
could  afford  to  wear,  were  spread  out  on 
frames  and  attached  to  the  mats  like  canvas 
sails;  calico  gowns  and  other  dangling  apparel 
swayed  to  the  current  of  the  roaring  fire;  the 
last  pole  was  decorated  from  op  to  base  with 
their  hoarded  baskets  and  interspersed  were 
broad  red  bandannas  like  bloody  sails.  The 
whole  resembled  a  many-masted  ship  with  its 
hopeless  crew,  glowing  in  the  light  of  its  own 
burning  hold  against  the  inky  blackness  of  the 
sea.  The  pine  boughs  floated  above  like  clouds 
in  a  dark  sky. 

The    long-draped    priest,    chanting    all    the 


while,  began  to  pull  down  the  poles,  one  by 
one,  and  cast  them  into  the  fire  as  if  he  were 
cutting  away  the  masts  to  save  a  ship  in  a 
storm.  First  came  the  offering  of  white  shirts, 
and  the  wailing  rose  louder  with  the  flying 
sparks ;  then  the  cheap  calico  gowns  and  the 
bright  shawls ;  a  pole  of  dangling  unmention- 
ables quivered  in  his  grasp  and  plunged  into 
the  flames ;  eight  or  ten  sacrificial  masts,  each 
with  its  ceremony  of  chanting  and  wailing, 
crashed  into  the  burning  hold.  Finally  only 
one  mast  remained — the  great  gift.  The  priest 
seized  it  with  strong  hands  and  its  freight  of 
artistic  baskets,  the  labor  of  years,  varying  in 
size  from  a  finger-bowl  to  a  wash-tub,  works 
of  art  worth  from  five  to  fifty  dollars  apiece, 
swung  towards  the  fire  from  the  swaying  pole 
as  if  eager  to  go  to  their  service  for  the  dead 
and  dove  crackling  into  the  burning  tide,  ris- 
ing anon  to  a  triumphant  chord  of  lamentation, 
in  a  million  red  stars  to  heaven,  and  were  ab- 
sorbed into  the  rosy  light  of  dawn. 

As  plain  cooking  utensils,  they  carried  to 
the  Happy  Hunting  Grounds  all  the  material 
comforts  of  home ;  but  in  their  higher  office 
they  conveyed  sweet  memories  of  the  mys- 
terious beauties  of  the  world,  and  of  legends 
told  about  the  warm  camp-fire. 

It  was  the  funeral  of  a  race — a  kind  of 
Christmas  funeral.  Was  it  not  as  worthy  of 
respect  and  sympathy  as  any  solemn  ceremony 
of  our  own?  And  would  not  the  Great  Spirit 
as  soon  hear  their  cry? 

We  turned  homeward  with  heavy  but  en- 
lightened hearts,  wishing  that  every  American 
might  have  seen  and  felt  their  sorrow.  And 
all  the  way  back  through  the  Gothic-spired 
forest  to  the  crest  of  the  hill,  where  we  re- 
gained our  vivacity  and  ate  our  breakfast  by 
the  glow  of  the  rising  sun,  there  rang  in  my 
ears,  deep-toned,  orchestral,  the  "conscience- 
awakening"  lines  of  Kipling's  Recessional : 

"God  of  our  Fathers,  known  of  old, — 

Lord  of  the  far-flung  battle  line, — 
Beneath  whose  awful  hand  we   hold 
Dominion   over   palm   and   pine — ■ 
Lord  God  of  Hosts,  be  with  us  yet, 
Lest  we  forget — lest  we  forget!" 


««&= 


WESTERN  FIELD 


WESTERN  FIELD 

The  Sportsman's  Magazine  of  the  West 


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and  the   California    Fish  and   Game 

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Offices: 
609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
Registered  at  the  San   Francisco  Postoffice  as  Second- 
Class  Matter 


PRANK  H.  MAYER 


Managing  Editor 


Matter  for  publication  should  be  addressed  "WEST- 
ERN FIELD,"  609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
San  Francisco.  Cal.,  and  not  to  individuals  connected 
with  the  magazine.  All  copy  for  new  advertisements, 
changes  or  discontinuances,  must  be  in  hand  not  later 
than  the  10th  of  the  month  preceding  date  of  issue,  in 
order  to  insure  attention. 

FOR  A  NON-SALE  LAW. 

In  the  name  of  the  People  of  California  we  de- 
mand at  the  hands  of  onr  Legislature,  at  its  nest 
session,  the  enactment  and  embodiment  in  onr  game 
law  of  a  statutory  clanse  prohibiting  the  sale  in 
this  State  of  any  game  bird  of  any  description  what- 
soever, and  fixing  a  commensurate  penalty  for  any 
violation  thereof. 

INTRODUCING  NEW  SPECIES 

THE  errors  made  by  the  State  board  of 
fish  commissioners  in  the  past,  should 
be  carefully  considered  by  the  present  board 
in  the  expenditure  of  the  large  sum  of 
money  now  placed  in  their  hands  by  the 
hunting  license  law,  enacted  by  the  last 
legislature.  From  present  indications  this 
license  law  will  place  in  the  hands  of  the 
board  not  less  than  $75,000,  this  year,  with 
fair  prospects  of  reaching  $100,000  annually 
in  the  near  future.  With  this  vast  sum, 
honestly  and  intelligently  expended,  as 
provided  by  the  act  creating  the  fund,  the 
game  conditions  of  California  should  soon 
be  ideal,  for  no  other  body  entrusted  with 
the  conservation  of  the  game,  where  the 
possibilities  are  one-half  as  great  as  in  Cali- 
fornia, has  one-half  so  large  an  amount  at 


ommand.  In  the  expenditure  of  this 
magnificent  sum  the  board  must  bear  in 
mind  that  this  license  is  a  tax  voluntarily 
imposed  upon  the  sportsmen  of  the  State 
for  the  sole  purpose  of  bettering  the  game 
conditions  of  the  State.  It  was  for  this 
purpose  that  the  sportsmen  of  the  State  at 
their  last  annual  convention,  held  at  Mon- 
terey, suggested  the  enactment  of  the  law, 
drafted  the  bill  and  urged  its  passage.  And, 
never  in  the  whole  history  of  game  legisla- 
tion has  any  law  of  whatever  character  been 
received  with  as  great  popular  favor  or  as 
willingly  obeyed.  And  this  because  they 
believe  that  this  large  sum  of  money,  which 
they  voluntarily  contribute,  if  intelligently 
used,  will  not  only  add  to  their  sport  but 
redound  to  the  lasting  benefit  of  the  whole 
people. 

The  errors  of  commissioners  in  the  past, 
while  made  no  doubt  with  the  best  of  in- 
tentions, resulted  in  the  waste  of  thousands 
of  dollars,  as  well,  as  in  some  cases,  result- 
ing in  positive  harm  to  the  State,  as  was, 
for  instance  the  introduction  of  carp  and 
catfish.  Such  blunders  as  these  can  easily 
be  repeated  in  good  faith  by  the  following 
of  ill  considered  advice  in  the  introduction 
of  new  varieties  of  game. 

The  experience  of  former  commissioners, 
as  shown  by  a  little  past  history  should  be 
carefully  considered  by  the  present  board. 
The  legislature  of  1877  appropriated  the 
sum  of  $2000  to  be  expended  by  the  board 
of  fish  commissioners  in  the  introduction  of 
new  varieties  of  game  birds.  The  commis- 
sioners very  properly  addressed  a  com- 
munication to  the  State  Sportsmen's  Asso- 
ciation asking  that  that  body  recommend  to 
the  board  the  variety  or  varieties  of  game 
birds  most  desired,  and  best  suited  to  the 
climatic  and  food  conditions  of  the  State. 
This  communication  was  exhaustively  dis- 
cussed at  the  meeting  of  the  Sportsmen's 
Association  held  at  San  Jose  in  the  fall  of 
1887.  At  this  meeting  it  was  found  that 
there  were  a  number  of  Sportsmen  present 
who  had  hunted  in  all  parts  of  the  world, 
and  who  had  been  careful  observers  of  both 
the  habits  and  habitat  of  almost  every 
variety  of  game  bird.  In  the  communication 
from  the  commissioners  the  association  was 
asked  to  consider  the  advisability  of  the  in- 
troduction of  the  Mongolian  pheasant  and 
the  Chinese  quail,  the  board  being  inclined 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


207 


to  the  expenditure  of  the  whole  appropria- 
tion on  these  two  species.  While  those  who 
knew  nothing  of  the  habitats  of  these  two 
birds  were  inclined  at  first  to  endorse  the 
opinion  of  the  board,  because  of  the  good 
reports  from  the  Mongolian  pheasant  in 
Oregon,  a  gentleman  who  had  studied  the 
pheasant  in  Oregon  and  two  gentlemen  who 
had  hunted  extensively  in  both  China  and 
Japan,  strongly  opposed  the  bringing  of 
either  of  these  species  to  the  State,  explain- 
ing in  the  clearest  manner  why  neither  of 
those  species  would  ever  become  acclimated 
in  California  with  its  radical  differences  in 
climate,  flora  and  food.  So  plain  were  their 
reasons  stated  that  the  association  wrote  the 
commissioners — giving  the  reasons  stated 
by  these  gentlemen — asking  that  the  money 
be  not  used  in  what  would  surely  prove  a 
failure. 

The  two  gentlemen  who  had  hunted  in 
Japan  urged  strongly  the  introduction  of  the 
small  Japanese  green  pheasant,  a  bird  about 
half  the  size  of  the  Mongolian,  whose 
habitat  was  the  low  brushy  hills,  and  brushy 
valleys  of  that  country.  Mr.  Payne,  who 
had  hunted  a  good  deal  in  Mexico,  and  Dr. 
St.  John,  who  had  resided  for  some  time 
in  central  Peru,  strongly  advocated  the  in- 
troduction of  the  tinamus,  an  upland  bird 
whose  habitat  is  much  the  same  as  the  Cali- 
fornia quail.  The  result  was  that  the  asso- 
ciation recommended  to  the  Commission 
the  importation  of  the  tinamus  first,  and, 
if  they  wish  to  try  any  species  of  pheasant, 
to  try  the  little  green  pheasant  of  Japan. 
But  while  the  board  of  commissioners  had 
very  wisely  and  very  properly  applied  to  the 
best  possible  source  of  information  for 
advice,  they  either  followed  in  the  end  their 
own  or  other  ill  advised  counsel  and  ex- 
pended the  whole  of  the  $2000  appropriation 
on  the  purchase  of  Mongolian  pheasants 
and  Chinese  quail.  Not  only  this,  but  still 
following  up  the  foolish  experiment  spent 
thousands  of  dollars  more  on  these  same 
birds,  which  they  had  been  shown  would 
never  exist  in  our  dry  climate. 

Among  the  sportsmen  of  the  State  there 
are  many  more  men  of  wide  experience 
with  the  game  of  other  countries,  men  who 
have  carefully  studied  the  soil  and  the  flora 
of  the  countries  these  various  species  in- 
habit, and  are  well  qualified  to  give  expres- 
sion   to    opinions    that   should   be   of   great 


service  to  the  commissioners  in  the  selec- 
tion of  new  species  for  introduction  into 
our  climate.  It  certainly  would  be  a  court- 
eous act  on  the  part  of  the  commission  to 
address  a  communication  to  the  California 
Game  and  Fish  Protective  Association — the 
men  who  are  responsible  for  the  license 
law,  and  who  contribute  the  money — during 
its  annual  meeting  at  Los  Angeles,  next 
November,  asking  the  advice  of  that  large 
association  of  active  sportsmen  as  to  what 
species  are  most  desired  and  most  likely 
in  the  opinion  of  those  of  wide  experience 
to  best  thrive  in  California. 

Because  a  given  species  of  game  bird 
or  animal  thrives  well  upon  its  native  heath, 
or  is  popular  with  the  sportsmen  of  its 
home  country,  is  no  argument  to  use  for  its 
introduction  into  another  country  of  entirely 
different  climate  and  food.  The  young  of 
nearly  all  the  species  of  the  tetraonidx  are 
reared  very  largely  on  insects.  This  food  is 
only  possible  in  damp  countries  producing 
rank  vegetation  in  the  spring.  With  the 
exception  of  the  Eastern  bobwhite,  that 
sub-family  of  the  tetraonidas  called 
adontophorinaa,  comprising  the  American 
partridge,  or  quail,  rears  its  young  very 
largely  upon  tender  grass  blades  and  shoots, 
and  young  buds  and  immature  seeds.  This 
is  the  case  with  all  of  the  blue  quail  as 
well  as  with  the  species  of  bobwhite  in- 
habiting northern  and  central  Mexico,  where 
the  climate  and  vegetation  are  similar  to 
this  state.  In  this,  nature  has  already  set 
us  an  example.  The  gamble  quail,  common 
to  the  driest  sections  of  Mexico  and 
Arizona,  have  found  no  difficulty  in  crossing 
the  Colorado  desert  and  working  north 
across  the  driest  stretches  of  California  and 
Nevada  as  far  as  the  northern  boundary  of 
Inyo  county.  But  the  ruffed  grouse,  quite 
plentiful  in  Oregon  and  with  no  apparent 
barrier  to  stop  its  progress,  has  ceased  its 
southern  migration  almost  at  the  northern 
boundary  of  this  state.  The  sooty  grouse, 
called  "native  pheasant"  in  Oregon,  common 
even  to  the  foot  hills  of  Washington  and 
Oregon,  is  only  seen  sparingly  in  the  high 
mountains  of  central  California,  and  seldom 
south  of  Tulare  county.  The  Columbia 
sharp-tail  grouse,  and  the  sage  grouse,  com- 
mon to  eastern  Oregon  and  Washington, 
barely  enter  the  northeastern  corner  of  Cali- 
fornia.    Only  one  of  the  numerous  species 


21  is 


WESTERN  FIELD 


of  ptarmigan  which  abound  in  large- 
numbers  in  British  Columbia  ranges  as  far 
south  as  the  northern  boundary  of  the 
United  States.  There  is  no  visible  barrier 
to  stop  the  southern  migrations  of  either 
the  ptarmigan  or  other  species  of  the 
grouse  family.  But  an  invisible  barrier 
found  in  our  climatic  conditions  has  proved 
an  effectual  check  on  the  range  of  these 
birds.  California,  therefore,  is  not  a  grouse 
country,  and  it  is  entirely  improbable  that 
any  species  of  grouse  from  either  hemis- 
phere can  ever  be  acclimated  in  the  state, 
except  possibly  one  or  two  of  the  species 
of  sand  grouse  of  southern  Europe  or  North 
Africa. 

In  the  selection  of  game  birds  or  animals 
for  introduction  into  the  state  the  opinions  of 
theoretical  naturalists  will  prove  unreliable. 
If  the  commission  hopes  to  be  successful  in 
the  introduction  of  new  species  it  will  find 
its  safest  advisers  among  the  practical 
sportsmen  of  wide  experience;  men  who 
have  hunted  in  various  lands  and  know  the 
climate  and  character  of  these  countries; 
and  the  coverts,  feeding  and  breeding 
grounds  of  the  species  desired. 


WHAT  WILL  IT  BE  USED  FOR? 

\Y/E  ARE  in  receipt  of  many  inquiries 
*  "  asking,  "What  is  this  large  sum  of 
license  money  to  be  used  for?"  Section 
six  of  the  law  reads:  "All  moneys  collected 
for  licenses  as  provided  herein,  and  all 
fines  collected  for  violations  of  the  provis- 
ions hereof,  shall  be  paid  into  the  State 
treasury  and  credited  to  the  game  preserva- 
tion fund." 

The  act  creating  the  game  preservation 
fund  provides  that  it  shall  be  used  for  "the 
preservation,  propagation  and  restoration  of 
the  game."  and  no  doubt  the  money  will 
be  used  for  these  purposes  and  no  other. 
That  is  for  the  salaries  and  expenses  of 
additional  patrolmen  to  enforce  the  game 
laws;  for  the  importation  of  new  species 
of  game  that  it  is  believed  will  readily 
become  acclimated  and  possibly,  to  a  limited 
extent,  for  the  propagation  of  some  species. 
It  should  also  be  used  freely  in  the  trapping 
of  our  native  quail  where  they  are  to  be 
found  in  great  numbers,  and  are  not  wanted; 
and  in  certain  jungles  where  they  are  to 
be  seen  in  flocks  of  thousands,  but  inacces- 


sible to  the  sportsman,  and  after  the  close 
of  the  season  distributed  in  the  more  thickly 
populated  sections  of  the  State  where  exces- 
sive hunting  has  depicted  the  supply.  There 
is  no  better  game  bird  than  the  California 
quail,  and  fortunately  the  law  stopping  their 
sale  has  left  us  enough  with  which  to  re- 
stock the  whole  State,  if  properly  handled. 
But  if  the  commission  expects  to  be  suc- 
cessful in  this,  they  must  begin  the  trapping 
as  soon  as  the  season  opens,  or  even  before, 
and  not  wait  as  the  former  board  did  in  an 
effort  in  this  line,  until  the  birds  cannot  be 
trapped  in  any  great  numbers.  Then  these 
birds  must  be  housed  and  fed  and  not  turned 
out  in  the  depleted  coverts  until  the  close 
of  the  season.  This  should  be  one  of  the 
first  uses  to  which  this  money  is  put,  and 
it  should  be  commenced  at  once,  and  thou- 
sands of  birds  turned  out  in  the  many  sec- 
tions of  the  State  in  which  they  have  all, 
or  nearly  all  been  killed. 

By  prompt  action  fine  shooting  can  be 
had  next  season  on  many  grounds  where 
hardly  a  bird  is  to  be  seen  today. 

In  this  work  the  board  must  remember 
that  we  have  two  species  of  what  are  com- 
monly called  valley  quail,  the  lophortyx 
calif  omicus,  and  the  lophortyx  californicus 
vallicola,  each  inhabiting  its  own  section 
of  the  State,  one  the  humid  sections  of  the 
northern  coast  and  the  other  the  drier  foot- 
hills and  interior  valleys  of  the  central  and 
southern  sections  of  the  State.  That  the 
birds  from  the  drier  sections  are  not 
adapted  to  the  damper  ones  was  fully  dem- 
onstrated a  few  years  ago  by  the  Country 
Club  .which  turned  loose  on  their  grounds 
a  large  number  of  the  lophortyx  gambeli 
from  Arizona.  In  less  than  two  years  not 
one  of  them  could  be  seen,  proving  their 
inadaptability  to  a  country  of  rank  under- 
growth. 


A  BIG  GATHERING 

THE  tenth  annual  meeting  of  the  Cali- 
'  fornia  Game  and  Fish  Protective 
Association  to  be  held  in  Los  Angeles,  on 
November  8th  and  9th  will  bring  together  the 
largest  gathering  of  sportsmen  that  have 
ever  convened  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  AH 
the  towns  of  Southern  California  are  noted 
for  their  large  number  of  active  sportsmen, 
and  these  will  be  strongly  represented  at 
the  meeting.  Advices  from  the  northern  and 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


209 


central  parts  of  the  State  report  large  dele- 
gations from  these  sections  already  making 
preparations  for  the  trip,  as  it  offers  a  fine 
opportunity  for  many  who  have  never 
visited  the  southern  counties  to  see  that 
section  of  peculiar  individuality  and  interest. 

The  sportsmen  of  Los  Angeles  have 
arranged  a  fine  program  of  entertainments 
for  the  visiting  delegates  and  none  who  are 
fortunate  enough  to  be  present  at  this 
grand  gathering  will  find  a  moment  when 
there  is  not  something  doing  to  add  to 
their   enjoyment. 

The  meeting  also  will  be  of  special 
interest  to  the  sportsmen  of  every  section, 
for  while  this  is  not  a  legislative  year  the 
association  intends  to  begin  at  once  its  prep- 
arations for  its  legislative  work  a  year 
hence,  and  therefore  at  this  coming  meet- 
ing its  forces  will  be  marshalled  and 
thoroughly  organized  for  the  work  it  will 
undertake  to  place  proper  restrictions  on 
the  further  destruction  of  our  game  supply. 
In  its  efforts  to  stop  the  unreasonable 
slaughter  of  game,  caused  by  its  open  sale 
in  the  markets,  it  has  had  in  the  past  the 
opposition  of  the  fish  commissioners  and 
during  the  last  gubernatorial  administra- 
tion the  opposition  of  the  governor.  The 
present  governor  is,  fortunately,  in  hearty 
accord  with  the  association  in  this  prohibi- 


tion, and  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  we  have 
seen  the  last  of  a  fish  and  game  commission 
opposing  the  only  law  that  has  ever  proved 
effective  in  preserving  the  game  birds  and 
animals   of   the   country. 

The  introduction  of  new  varieties  of  game 
will  also  be  an  important  subject  for  the 
deliberations  of  the  association,  and  in  this 
every  section  of  the  State  is  deeply  in- 
terested, for  with  its  great  latitudinal  and 
altitudinal  variations,  the  needs  of  each  sec- 
tion must  be  carefully  considered,  and  the 
active  sportsmen  residing  in  these  several 
sections  are  the  only  ones  who  can  speak 
intelligently  as  to  the  adaptability  of  any 
species  to  those  sections.  Of  course  the 
final  decision  as  to  what  shall  be  imported 
rests  with  the  commissioners,  but  it  is  to 
be  presumed  that  this  State  board  will  act 
very  largely  on  the  recommendations  of 
those  most  directly  interested  and  best 
qualified  to  judge  of  what  will  or  will  not 
prove  successful  undertakings.  It  is  a 
knowledge  of  this  fact,  and,  that  species 
well  suited  to  certain  sections  of  the  State 
would  be  entirely  unsuited  to  others,  that 
has  created  so  much  interest  in  the  Los 
Angeles  meeting,  and  gives  promise  of  so 
large  a  gathering  of  the  active  sportsmen  of 
the  whole  State. 


A  VAGABOND'S  RELIGION 

GIVE   me   the   heart  that's   ready  to   respond 
To  Nature's  ways,  in  church  not  made  by  hands, 
E'en    though    he    may   be    called    a    vagabond — 
The   one   who   ways   of   Master   understands; 
The    soul    that    sings   to    murmur    of   the   trees 
And    loves    the    touch    of    forest-tempered    breeze. 

The    one    that    rippling    stream    can    lull    to    sleep 
Who    listens    to    the    stories    birds    can    tell, 
And,    hearing    them,    can    well    their    secrets    keep, 
While    standing    'gainst    the    world    their    sentinel; 
The   one   that   pins   a   flower   wet   with    dew, 
Upon    a    heart    God's    creatures    know    is    true. 

A    vagabond    he    may    be,    but    the    breath 

That    comes    to    him    in    sermons    such    as    this 

Speaks    to    no    living   thing    the    lust    for    death. 

But    greets    the    Parson's    children    with    a    kiss. 

A   vagabond?      A   fool?     Well,    he   may   be. 

But    in    his    breast    there   beats    the    heart    for    me. 


-Ma 


N.   Bake 


•^•iJOw-^w^^H-^i^tASvdj 


210 


WESTERN  FIELD 


President, 
H.     T.     Payne,     725     Baker     Street,     San     Francisco. 

Vice-Presidents, 
C.  L.  Powell,   I'leasanton ;   Dr.   I.   W.   Hays,  Grass 
Valley;  A.  S.  Nichols,  Sierraville ;  H.  W.  Keller,  Los 
A»geles,   and    Chase   Littlejohn,   Redwood    City. 

Executive  Committee — C.  W.  Hibbard,  San  Fran- 
cisco; W.  W.  Richards,  Oakland;  A.  M.  Barker,  San 
Jose;  Frank  H.  Mayer,  San  Francisco,  and  J.  H. 
Schumacher,    Los    Angeles. 

Membership  Committee — E.  A.  Mocker,  Capitola; 
W.  C  Correll,  Riverside,  and  R.  H.  Kelly,  Santa 
Cniz. 

Committee  on  Legislation — H.  W.  Keller,  C.  W. 
Hibbard,  J.  B.  Hauer,  A.  R.  Orr,  and  W.  Scott  Way. 

Secretary- Treasurer. 
E.   A.  Mocker,   1316  Hayes  Street. 

County  Associations — Their  Secretaries  and  Ad- 
dresses; 

Alameda  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
— A.    L.    Henry,    Sec.-Treas.,   Livermore,   Cal. 

Alturas — R.  A.   Laird,  Sec,  Alturas,  Cal. 

Angels — Walter    Tryon,    Sec,    Angels    Camp,    Cal. 

Arroyo  Grande — S.  Clevenger,  Sec,  Arroyo 
Grande,    Cal. 

Auburn — E.   A.    Francis,   Sec,  Auburn,    Cal. 

Boulder  Creek — J.  H.  Aran,  Sec,  Boulder  Creek, 
Cal. 

Audubon  Society  of  California — W.  Scott  Way, 
Sec,  Pasadena,  Cal. 

California  Rod  and  Gun  Club  Association — 316 
Mills   Building,   San    Francisco,   Cal. 

Chico,  ,  Sec,  Chico,  Cal. 

Cloverdale— C.     H.     Smith,     Sec,     Cloverdale,    Cal. 

Colusa— S.    J.    Gilmour,    Sec,    Colusa,    Cal. 

Corning — Mason    Case,   Sec,   Corning,   Cal. 

Covelo— H.    W.    Schutler,    Sec,    Covelo,    Cal. 

Deer  Creek— Jos.  Mitchell,  Sec,  Hot  Springs,  Cal. 

Fort   Bragg— Thos.    Burns,   Sec,   Fort   Bragg,    Cal. 

Fresno — D.    Dismukes,    Sec,    Fresno,    Cal. 

Grass  Valley — John  Mulroy,  Sec,  Grass  Valley, 
Cal. 

Healdsburg  F.  and  G.  P.  Ass'n— J.  H.  Kruse, 
Secretary,    Healdsburg. 

Hollister— Wm.  Higby,  Sec,  Hollister,  Cal. 

Humboldt — Julius    Janssen,    Sec,    Humboldt,    Cal. 

Jackson— O.     H.     Reichling,     Sec,     Jackson,     Cal. 

Kelseyville— Chas.   H.   Pugh,  Sec,  Kelseyville,   Cal. 

Kern  County — E.  F.  Pueschel,  Sec,  Bakersfield, 
Cal. 

Kings  County — S.  S.  Mullins,  Sec,  Hanford, 
Cal. 


Lakeport— B,    P.    Mclntyre,    Sec,    Lakeport,    Cal. 

Laytonvillc — J.    G.    Dill,    Sec,    Laytonville,    Cal. 

Lodi — Greer    McDonald,    Sec,    Lodi,   Cal. 

Lompoc — W.    R.    Smith,    Sec,    Lompoc,    Cal. 

Los   Angeles — L.    Herzog,   Sec,   Los  Angeles,   Cal. 

Madera — Joe    Bancroft,    Sec,    Madera,    Cal. 

Marysville — R.    B.    Boyd,    Sec,    Marysville,   Cal. 
Mendocino    City — O.     L.    Stanley,    Sec,    Mendocino 
City,   Cal. 

Mohawk  Valley  F.  and  G.  P.  Association — Fred 
King,   Sec.-Treas.,   Clco,   Plumas   County. 

Monterey  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'a 
—  B.    Ramsey,   Sec,   Monterey. 

Napa — W.  West,  Sec,  Napa,  Cal. 

Nevada  City — Fred  C.  Brown,  Sec,  Nevada  City, 
Cal. 

Oroville— G.  T.  Graham,  Sec,  Oroville.  Cal. 

Oxnard — Roy    B.    Witman,    Sec,    Oxnard,    Cal. 

Paso  Robles — T.  W.  Henry,  Sec,  Paso  Robles, 
Cal. 

Petaluma — Jos.    Steiger,   Sec,    Petaluma,    Cal. 

1'escadero— C.   J.    Coburn,   Sec,   Pescadero,   Cal. 

Porterville — G.    R.    Lumley,    Sec,    Porterville,    Cat. 

Quincy — T.    F.    Spooner,    Sec,    Quincy,    Cal. 

Red    Bluff— W.    F.    Luning,    Sec,    Red    Bluff,    Cal. 

Redding— Dr.    B.    F.    Belt,    Sec,    Redding,    Cal. 

Redlands— Robert    Leith,    Sec,    Redlands,    Cal. 

Redwood  City — C.  Littlejohn,  Sec,  Redwood  City, 
Cal. 

Riverside — Joe    Shields,    Sec,    Riverside,    Cal. 

San  Andreas — Will  A.  Dower,  Sec,  San  Andreas, 
Cal. 

San  Rafael — H.  E.  Robertson,  Sec,  San  Rafael, 
Cal. 

Santa   Ana — J.    W.    Carlyle,   Sec,   Santa   Ana,    Cal. 

Santa  Barbara — E.  C.  Tallant,  Sec,  Santa  Bar- 
bara,   Cal. 

San  Bernardino — F.  C.  Moore,  Sec,  San  Bernar- 
dino,   Cal. 

Santa   Clara — J.   H.    Faull,   Sec,   San  Jose,  Cal. 

Santa    Cruz — R.    Miller,   Sec,    Santa    Cruz,   Cal. 

San    Diego — A.    D.    Jordan,    Sec,   San    Diego,    Cal. 

San  Francisco  Fly  Casting  Club— F.  W.  Brother- 
ton,  Sec,  29  Wells-Fargo  Building,  San  Francisco, 
Cal. 

Sanger — H.    C.    Coblentz,    Sec,    Sanger,    Cal. 

Santa  Maria — L.  J.  Morris,  Sec,  Santa  Maria, 
Cal. 

Santa  Rosa — Miles  Peerman,  Sec,  Santa  Rosa, 
Cal. 

San  Luis  Obispo — H.  C.  Knight,  Sec,  San  Luis 
Obispo,    Cal. 

Salinas — J.   J.    Kelley,    Sec,    Salinas,    Cal. 

Selma — J.    J.    Vanderburg,    Sec,    Selma,    Cal. 

Sierra — Dr.    S.    H.    Crow,   Sec,   Sierraville,   Cal. 

Sierra  Co.,  F.  and  G.  Association — F.  B.  Sparks, 
Sec,    Loyalton,   Cal. 

Siskiyou — W.    A.    Sharp,    Sec,    Sisson,    Cal. 

Santa  Paula — Dr.  R.  L.  Poplin,  Sec,  Santa  Paula, 
Cal. 

Sacramento  County — A.  Hertzey,  Sec,  Sacramen- 
to,   Cal. 

Sonora— J.    A.    Van    Harlingen,    Sec,    Sonora,    Cal. 

Stockton — R.    L.   Quisenberry,  Sec,   Stockton,  Cal. 

Susanville— R.    M.    Rankin,    Sec,    Susanville,    Cal. 

Sutter  Creek — L.  F.  Stinson,  Sec,  Three  Rivers, 
Cal. 

Truckee  River  F.  and  G.  Ass'n— A.  F.  Schlumpf, 
Truckee,   Cal. 

Ukiah — Sam    D.    Paxton,    Sec,    Ukiah,    Cal. 

Vallejo— J.   V.  O'Hara,  Sec,  Vallejo,  Cal. 

Ventura— M.    E.    V.    Bogart,    Sec,    Ventura,    Cal. 

Visalia — Thomas  A.    Chaten,   Sec,   Visalia,   Cal. 

Watsonville — Ed    Winkle,    Sec,    Watsonville,    Cal. 

Willits— Chester    Ware,    Sec,    Willits,    Cal. 

Woodland— W.   F.   Huston,  Sec,  Woodland,  Cal. 

West  Berkeley— Charles  Hadlan,  Sec,  West  Ber- 
keley,   Cal. 

Yreka— F.    E.    Autenreith,    Sec,    Yreka,    Cal. 


TWO  DAYS  WITH  THE  "CANS" 


By  E.  Van  Antwerp 


HAD  been  longing  for  some 
time  for  a  good  duck  hunt, 
and  when  Semon  K ,  in- 
vited   me   up    to    the    S 

Gun     Club    for     a    two-days' 

shoot   I   quickly   accepted   the 

bid,  and  promised  to  meet  him 

at    the    depot    next    morning. 

I  had  "blew"  myself  for  a  new 

Smith  Hammerless  a  few  days 

previous,  and  thought  of  no  better  way  to 

initiate    it    than    amongst    the    canvasbacks 

in  San  Pablo  Bay. 

Sunday  morning  found  me  up  bright  and 
early  and  down  to  the  depot  long  before 
train  time.  In  company  with  Semon  and 
his  brother  Sam  we  boarded  the  9:45  train 
at  Oakland,  and  twelve  o'clock  found  us 
comfortably  housed  in  the  cosy  little  club- 
house, rapidly  devouring  a  choice  "porter- 
house" and  some  delicious  coffee.  Dinner 
over;  white  shirts  were  replaced  by  warm 
jerseys,  and  hastily  jumping  into  hunting 
togs  we  started  for  the  boat. 

The  club  boasted  of  one  of  the  finest 
preserves  on  San  Pablo  Bay,  and  was  com- 
posed of  some  of  the  keenest  sportsmen 
I  ever  had  the  pleasure  to  meet.  It  was 
not  their  desire  to  slaughter  right  and  left, 
but  to  enjoy  a  few  days  shooting  once  or 
twice  a  month,  seemed  a  treat  after  being 
penned  up  in  offices  in  a  busy  city  day  in 
and  day  out. 

Sam,  unlike  his  brother,  cared  little  for 
hunting,  so  leaving  him  behind  to  keep 
house,  we  packed  our  decoys,  ammunition, 
and  guns  in  the  little  flat  bottomed  skiff, 
and  waving  a  farewell,  pulled  for  the  blind. 
The  day  was  ideal,  clouds  hung  over  the 
horizon,  and  there  was  just  enough  breeze 
to  make  the  water  choppy  and  keep  the 
birds  on  the  wing.  The  club  had  several 
"blinds"  on  the  preserve  and  were  built 
so  they  floated  low  on  the  water.  An  an- 
chor on  each  end  kept  them  in  position, 
and  the  sides  were  well  covered  with  tules, 
so  they  resembled  small  islands.  Two  of 
the   "boys"   had   come   down   the   night   be- 


fore, and  some  sharp  reports  in  the  direc- 
tion of  one  of  the  blinds,  was  evidence  of 
"something  doing." 

A  few  minutes  row,  and  we  were  busily 
employed  throwing  out  decoys,  for  it  was 
after  one  o'clock  and  the  birds  were  com- 
mencing to  work  inshore  looking  for  a 
good  place  to  feed.  Every  evening  during 
the  week  the  water  around  each  blind  is 
strewn  with  rolled  barley,  which  sinks  and 
tends  to  keep  the  birds  inshore.  Seated 
comfortably  in  the  blind,  we  lighted  our  pipes, 
and  prepared  for  the  sport  that  is  to  come. 

A  sharp  whisper,  and  a  "dig  in  the  ribs," 
warns  me  of  an  approaching  bunch  of 
"cans."  Looking  over  the  edge  of  the  tules, 
I  perceived  about  a  dozen  fine  birds  com- 
ing "dead  on"  for  the  decoys,  not  twenty 
feet  in  the  air.  On  they  came  and  as  a 
pair  of  lordly  old  drakes  swung  by  my 
end,  I  brought  my  sight  on  a  level  with 
the  chestnut  head  and  quickly  drawing  a 
foot  ahead  fired.  He  collapsed  like  a  "rag," 
while  the  other  one  withered  in  the  air, 
twenty  feet  beyond.  [My  Smith  was  in- 
itiated.] Semon  had  not  been  idle,  for 
over  on  his  quarter  a  couple  of  beauties 
lay  wildly  fanning  the  air  with  their  little 
black  legs. 

The  tide  was  running  out  like  a  mill- 
stream,  and  our  "kill"  were  some  hundred 
yards  away  before  we  picked  them  up. 
Looking  back  we  saw  a  couple  of  "blue- 
bills"  hover  over  our  decoys  for  an  in- 
stant, and  the  next  moment  drop  in 
amongst  them.  What  can  be  more  exas- 
perating than  to  have  a  bunch  of  ducks 
calmly  light  in  your  decoys  when  you  are 
completely  out  of  range  of  them?  They 
soon  saw  their  mistake  and  with  a  sharp 
whistle  they  were  off  for  some  feeding 
ground  more  neutral.  I  sent  a  charge  of 
fives  after  them  but  it  only  hastened  them 
on. 

We  had  just  reached  the  blind,  when  a 
saucy  little  butterball  came  skimming  over 
the  water  at  a  "2:40  clip."  He  probably 
had  a  pressing  engagement  in  some  choice 


WESTERN  FIELD 


feeding  ground,  and  was  loosing  no  time 
in  making  connections.  As  he  passed  by 
US  at  forty  yards,  Scmon  remarked.  "Watch 
me  pulverize  him."  Leveling  his  trusty 
old  "pump,"  he  gave  him  a  good  lead  and 
fired.  After  making  a  few  startling  somer- 
saults, our  webfooted  friend,  struck  the 
water  and  was  under  like  a  flash.  In  a 
few  seconds  he  came  up  like  a  rubber  ball, 
within  a  dozen  yards  of  us,  but  we  both 
decided  he  had  earned  his  liberty.  He  gave 
a  few  startled  glances  in  our  direction,  and 
was  up  and  off,  a  scared  but  wiser  indi- 
vidual. I  have  no  doubt  but  that  they 
are  the  hardest  birds  to  kill  in  the  whole 
duck  family.  I  have  hit  them  with  two 
charges  of  shot,  and  then  have  them  flop 
out  or  range  and  escape.  As  Semon  says, 
"All  they  are  made  of  is  a  'bunch  of 
feathers  and  a  piece  of  gall.'  " 

Towards  evening  we  had  some  fine  shoot- 
ing. Out  of  a  bunch  of  three  "bluebills" 
I  managed  to  drop  two,  but  when  a  flock 
of  "cans"  came  over  a  few  minutes  later, 
I  openly  made  a  clean  miss  out  of  both 
barrels,  which  made  me  think  of  that  old 
saying.  "To  miss  is  mystery.  To  hit  is 
history."  Semon  was  in  fine  form  that 
day,  killing  twenty-two  birds  out  of  a 
possible  twenty-six. 

About  five  o'clock  the  tide  was  running 
out  so  rapidly  that  we  decided  to  pull  for 
land.  Even  before  we  were  in  the  club- 
house our  blind  was  high  and  dry.  Sam 
had  prepared  a  fine  spread  for  us  and  when 
the  other  boys  came  in  we  certainly  did 
justice  to  it.  Lamb  chops,  fried  spuds, 
canned  corn,  hot  French  bread  and  coffee, 
was  the  menu,  and  it  could  not  have  tasted 
better  to  our  keen  appetites,  had  it  been 
served  in  the  best  grill  in  the  city. 

Supper  over,  we  "drew"  our  birds  and 
compared  strings.  Semon  and  I  totaled 
up  thirty-eight  "cans"  and  bluebills,  while 
the  other  two  fellows  went  us  fifteen  better. 
We  were  all  satisfied  with  the  day's  sport, 
and  hoped  the  morrow  would  net  us  as 
well.  Dishes  were  washed  and  put  away, 
and  all  hands  sat  down  to  a  friendly  game 
of  cards.  One  of  the  boys  opened  up  a 
box  of  cigars,  and  we  all  smoked  to  his 
health  "tul"  the  clock  striking  eleven 
warned  us  of  the  strenuous  day  before  us. 
The  club-house  was  a  two-storied  affair,  the 
whole   ground   floor  being  one   large   room 


(kitchen,  dining-room  and  storehouse), 
while  the  upstairs  was  fitted  with  bed- 
rooms. The  beds  were  not  of  the  usual 
kind  found  in  lots  of  amateur  clubs  (the 
soft  side  of  a  board  and  a  sheet  to  lie  on), 
but  was  fitted  with  spring  mattresses 
and  abundant  quilts  and  woolen  blankets. 
1  was  soon  asleep,  dreaming  of  all  kinds 
of  impossible  shots,  and  I  don't  think  I 
moved  till  I  heard  someone  calling  "break- 
fast." We  were  all  dressed  in  a  hurry, 
for  there  was  a  streak  of  dawn  over  towards 
the  eastern  hills.  Steaming  coffee,  ham 
and  eggs  and  hot  biscuits  put  us  in  good 
condition  for  the  day's  work.  It  was  just 
daylight  when  we  finished  placing  our  de- 
coys, but  there  was  not  a  breath  of  air 
stirring,  and  the  bay  was  as  smooth  as 
glass.  We  got  very  little  shooting  till  after 
nine  o'clock,  when  a  passing  launch 
frightened  a  few  flocks  towards  us.  A 
bunch  of  "cans"  drifted  in  and  hovered 
over  our  decoys,  presenting  a  beautiful 
shot.  We  poured  six  shots  into  them,  and 
they  departed  after  leaving  five  of  their 
members  in  a  hopeless  condition. 

That  ended  the  shooting  till  afternoon, 
when  we  shot  a  pair  of  sprig  that  gave 
us  a  chase  over  about  ten  acres  of  water 
before  we  managed  to  kill  them.  A  duck 
when  slightly  wounded  can  swim  under 
water  nearly  as  fast  as  a  man  can  row  a 
boat,  especially  against  the  tide.  There 
was  nothing  much  doing  the  rest  of  the 
afternoon  so  about  4:30  we  pulled  in  our 
decoys  and  rowed  for  the  shore.  We  had 
covered  about  half  the  distance,  when 
Semon  called  my  attention  to  a  lone  "blue- 
bill"  that  was  flying  over  us  at  a  height 
that  seemed  well  out  of  range.  Hastily 
slipping  in  fives  I  gave  him  a  good  lead 
and  pressed  the  trigger.  For  an  instant 
the  bird  seemed  to  hover  in  midair.  Then 
throwing  his  head  over  his  back  he  came 
down  like  a  chunk  of  lead.  On  examining 
him  we  found  where  a  single  shot  had 
penetrated  his  head.  That  was  the  only 
visible  mark  we  could  find.  It  was  a  chance 
shot,  but  the  drinks  were  on  Semon. 

The  other  boys  came  in  shortly  after 
we  landed,  and  then  it  was  a  hurry  scurry 
to  get  cleaned  and  catch  our  train.  "Old 
John,"  the  good-natured  keeper,  came  in 
just  as  we  were  leaving  and  helped  us  to 
the   train   with   our  game. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


2\i 


Semon  and  I  had  a  total  of  sixty-two 
birds,  while  the  other  two  fellows  had  a 
string  of  seventy-one  birds.  We  were  all 
satisfied  with  our  two-days'  sport,  and  there 
was  no  one  on  the  train  that  could  show 
3  better  bunch  than  we  carried  home.    After 


adieu,  and  wended  my  way  through  the 
crowded  streets.  I  don't  know  of  any- 
body that  could  have  been  prouder  than 
me,  as  I  swaggered  down  the  street  with 
my  string  of  thirty-one  birds  carelessly 
thrown  over  my  shoulder.    My  "Smith"  had 


a  hearty  handshake,  I  bid  my  good  friends       been  initiated. 


By  R.  Clapham 


T  MAKES  an  interesting  study 
for  the  sportsman  or  lover 
of  wild  life,  to  watch  the 
dodges  and  devices  which  are 
put  into  execution  by  a 
hunted  animal,  whether  its 
pursuers  be  human  or  canine. 
Some  few  of  the  wild  things 
trust  to  their  superior  speed 
to  carry  them  beyond  the 
hounds,  but  most  of  them  fall  back  on 
some  cunning  plan  to  avoid  the  danger. 

The  various  antelopes,  on  catching  a 
view  of  the  enemy,  will  often  show  intense 
curiosity  for  a  few  moments,  but  in  the 
long  run,  they  take  to  their  heels  and  very 
soon  widen  the  space  between  themselves 
and  the  object  of  their  curiosity.  Wolves, 
both  timber  and  coyote,  will  trust  in  their 
speed,  and  it  takes  a  fast  dog  to  overhaul 
them;  though  the  coyote  when  hard  pressed 
will  resort  to  stratagem  if  opportunity 
offers.  The  red-fox,  one  of  the  most  cun- 
ning of  his  kind,  can  show  a  clean  pair  of 
heels,  but  when  put  to  it,  at  the  end  of  a 
hard  run;  that  brain  of  his  is  requisitioned, 
and  more  often  than  not  carries  him  safely 
over  the  danger. 

I  have  heard  hare  hunting  with  hounds, 
often  run  down  as  heartless  cruelty,  by 
people  who  didn't  know  what  sport  was,  and 
yet  when  the  hounds  used  are  small  enough, 
it  is  ten  chances  to  one,  that  "puss"  will 
outwit  them.  She  is  a  dainty,  feeble 
creature  compared  to  "bold  reynard"  and 
others  of  his  kin;  but  for  all  that  she  can 
show  remarkable  strength,  as  'well  as  cun- 


ning, when  necessity  demands  it.  I  have 
seen  a  hunted  hare,  after  being  run  for 
more  than  an  hour,  by  a  pack  of  fifteen- 
inch  beagles;  swim  a  large  creek  in  full 
flood,  and  climb  up  the  further  bank,  nearly 
opposite  where  she  entered  the  water,  while 
the  body  of  the  pack  behind  her,  were 
washed  down  some  hundred  yards  before 
they  made  the  bank;  and  finally  she  beat 
them  on  the  other  side.  Those  powerful 
hind  legs  can  carry  her  over  a  good  height 
too,  when  hard  pressed. 

We  ran  a  hare  one  day  with  the  same 
pack,  and  she  squatted  in  the  corner  of  a 
field,  with  a  five-foot  stone  wall  fencing 
it  in.  She  lay  quiet  till  the  pack  was  al- 
most on  her,  then,  seeing  her  back  track 
was  utterly  impracticable,  she  made  one 
bound  at  the  wall,  turned  a  complete  somer- 
sault in  mid  air,  and  landed  in  the  field 
beyond. 

Often  have  I  seen  "puss,"  some  two  or 
three  fields  ahead  of  the  hounds,  stop,  sit 
up  and  listen;  and  then  proceed  most 
methodically  to  remove  the  mud  from  her 
feet  by  biting  and  rubbing  it  off.  She 
would  then  dodge  on  for  a  few  yards, 
spring  to  one  side  and  then  lie  down  and 
roll,  a  trick  which  would  puzzle  the  pack 
behind  her  more  than  a  little. 

Whatever  the  game  hunted  may  be,  as 
a  rule — if  the  pursuing  party  be  not  too 
fast — the  pursued  will  invariably  put  into 
execution  some  plan  or  plans  for  their  dis- 
comfiture. A  hare,  the  more  she  is  run,  the 
less  scent  she  gives,  and  on  that  account, 
when     she     begins     dodging    and     running 


214 


WESTERN  FIELD 


short,  it  needs  all  the  cunning  of  her 
pursuers  to  keep  the  trail.  A  fox  when 
pressed,  gives  an  undiminished  scent,  and 
for  that  reason  is  easier  to  hunt  than  hare, 
but  his  plans  to  escape  are  often  most 
craftily  laid,  and  very  often  succeed.  They 
will  choose  most  curious  places  to  take 
refuge  in,  and  I  have  known  of  more  than 
one  case,  where  a  fox  has  taken  refuge  in 
a  tree.  One  especially,  comes  to  mind, 
where  for  a  whole  season,  reynard  beat 
the  hounds  at  an  oak  tree  by  a  fence.  He 
was  finally  run  into;  and  his  dodge  was 
discovered.  He  would  run  through  the  rail 
fence  into  the  wood;  then  back  track  to 
the  fence,  climb  to  the  top  rail  and  creep 
along  it  to  the  tree  where  a  low  hanging, 
thick  limb  gave  him  access  to  a  hollow, 
some  distance  up  the  trunk,  and  in  that 
hollow  he  curled  up,  whilst  the  baying  pack 
scoured  on  below. 

The  red  deer,  which  can  jump  through 
the  thickest  of  timber  like  a  sky-rocket, 
will,  when  hunted  with  slow  hounds,  just 
keep  well  ahead  and  put  in  many  doubles 
and  back  tracks,  whilst  watching  the  hounds 
behind  it.  When  forced,  however,  by  fast 
dogs,  it  relies  on  its  ability  to  out  run 
them,  though  when  nearly  at  a  standstill, 
it  usually,  as  a  last  resource,  makes  for 
water,  and  being  a  strong  and  fast  swim- 
mer, can  then  often  baffle  the  hounds. 


The  common  cottontail,  when  run  with 
a  fairly  fast  dog,  will  as  a  rule  give  only 
a  short  run  and  then  "hole  up;"  but  if 
still  hunted  on  the  snow,  the  trail  will  show 
many  twists  and  turns  where  "molly"  has 
stopped  to  sit  up  and  listen  for  her  pursuers. 

In  the  case  of  dangerous  game,  these 
devices  often  lead  the  unwary  hunter  into 
places  where  he  stands  a  poor  chance  for 
his  life.  The  African  buffalo  is  a  dangerous 
customer  to  tackle  in  thick  brush;  for  he 
will  back  track  and  lie  in  wait  close  to 
his  own  trail,  to  catch  the  hunter  who 
rashly  follows  up  the  tracks,  without  keep- 
ing   a    good    look    out,    around    and    ahead. 

In  a  country  where  snow  falls  and  where 
both  the  animals  and  the  birds  leave  their 
trails  firmly  and  clearly  imprinted  in  the 
white  covering;  much  can  be  learned  of 
their  ways  and  devices.  One  can  learn 
more  in  a  week  by  following  tracks  on 
snow,  than  in  a  year,  when  the  ground  is 
green  and  dry.  Traces  of  both  furred  and 
feathered  things  are  then  met  with,  which 
at  any  other  time  of  year,  a  person  would 
not  believe  were  there;  and  much  amuse- 
ment and  instruction  may  be  had  by  mak- 
ing a  study  of  the  ways  of  the  animal 
world  for  protecting  themselves  from  their 
enemies,  and  making  good  their  escape 
when  pursued  by  man  or  beast. 


SCIOMACHY 

LIFE  has  many  shadows- 
Spectres  of  the  night; 
Youth  has  many  sorrows 

Mingled   with    delight; 
Hope  is  mocked  by  phantoms 

Leering  at  our  strife; 
Fame   is  as  a   rose-bud 

Withered  by  the  strife— 
Ere  its  petals  open 

We  have  ceased  to  seek — 
Fame  is  but  a  shadow 

Could  the  dead  but  speak! 


Life  has  many  heart-aches 

Throbbing  through   our  bliss, 
Oft   the  bane,   ophidian, 

Mingles  with  the  kiss; 
Wealth  is  as  a   rain-bow, 

Fortune  as   a   dream — 
Mortal's   hoarded   treasures 

Are  not  wnct  they  seem; 
Life  has  many  shadows — 

Spectres  of  the  night; 
Love,  alone,  dispels  them 

With    its    magic    light! 


Love,  alone,  is  monarch, 

Love,   alone,   is  sure — ■ 
Hatred    has   no    poison 

Love  will  fail  to  cure; 
Life  has  not  a  phantom 

That   its   power   can   prove 
Death  has  not  a  sorrow 

Love  can  not  remove; 
What    is    life    without    it? 

What  is  wealth  or  fame? 
Man  is  like  a  shadow — ■ 

Love  is  like  a  flame! 


-T.  Shelley  Sutto 


By  H.  H.  Muchall 


N  THE  rush  and  swirl  of 
modern  life  men  and  women 
are  working  at  high  pressure. 
The  machinery  of  the  human 
body  is  very  efficient  'and 
faithful  and  stands  the  strain 
of  working  in  a  remarkable 
manner,  but  like  all  machinery 
in  constant  use,  it  needs  a 
rest.  In  short  it  must  have  a 
rest,  otherwise  it  becomes  clogged,  runs 
slowly  and  while  performing  a  certain 
amount  of  work  this  is  done  at  the  expense 
of  the  vitality  and  energy  stored  up  in 
the  human  body,  and  an  ultimate  break- 
down will  be  the  result.  People  have  long 
since  recognized  this  truth,  and  so  when 
the  summer  comes  they  pack  their  grips 
and  betake  themselves  to  some  locality  to 
spend  a  few  weeks  and  recuperate — to  give 
the  machinery  a  rest — yet  it  is  not  too  much  to 
say  that  this  is  not  done  in  a  thinking, 
intelligent  manner.  The  best  breathing 
spots  are  not  as  a  rule  picked  out  with 
due  regard  to  their  adaptability  to  our 
needs,  but  we  rush  away  pell-mell,  any- 
where, just  so  we  can  get  away  from  our 
business  environment.  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  by  this  that  we  do  not  in  many  cases 
end  up  at  the  proper  vacation  spot  in  which 
lost  vitality  may  be  restored,  but  in  the 
main  this  is  not  the  case. 

The  choice  of  a  place  to  spend  our  va- 
cation should  be  given  as  much  intelligent 
thought  as  we  would  give  to  a  business 
proposition  involving  dollars  and  cents.  In 
fact  it  should  be  given  greater  considera- 
tion because  the  results  are  more  vital  to 
our  well  being  than  the  mere  question  of 
lucre.  Do  we  ever  stop  to  ponder  on  the 
significance  of  a  suitable  environment  in 
which  our  minds  and  bodies  may  be  re- 
stored to  that  healthy  condition  so  neces- 
sary to  our  welfare  and  happiness?  Not 
many  of  us.  We  all  realize  that  we  must 
get  away  from  the  grind  and  worry  of 
business  for  a  while  each  year,  but  as  a 
general  thing  we  do  not  select  the  locality 


best  adapted  to  accomplish  the  results  we 
seek.  The  city  worker  who  goes  to  Atlan- 
tic City,  New  York  City,  or  some  other 
congested  spot,  for  his  or  her  vacation, 
might  as  well  stay  at  home  for  all  the 
benefits  received  from  the  trip.  The  worn- 
out,  run-down  person  in  such  places  has 
no  chance  to  get  back  into  a  healthy  con- 
dition. The  tax  on  the  energies  are  as 
great  or  greater  than  before,  with  the  result 
that  he  or  she  returns  to  the  daily  routine 
of  work  without  having  received  any  bene- 
fit from  the  vacation  looked  forward  to 
with  so  much  pleasure  beforehand.  The 
city  workers  all  need  to  get  into  closer 
touch  with  nature.  Deep  down  in  our 
hearts  there  is  a  longing  for  that  rest  and 
quiet  which  can  only  be  found  among  the 
hills,  in  the  whispering  forests  and  along 
the  banks  of  the  dancing  waters;  but  in 
the  face  of  this  many  of  us  seek,  not  these 
places,  but  excitement  and  artificiality — 
the  modern  watering  place  or  large  city. 
Let  us  take  ourselves  to  task  and  stop 
the  practice.  In  this  great  land  of  ours 
there  are  thousands,  aye  tens  of  thousands, 
of  beautiful  breathing  spots  from  which  we 
can  choose  to  spend  our  vacations.  Some 
of  us  like  the  grandeur  of  the  mountains, 
others  the  quiet  of  some  pretty  inland  lake, 
gemmed  with  wooded  isles,  and  again  others 
the  eternal  boom  of  the  surf.  Take  your 
choice,  but  when  you  have  selected  that 
locality  which  appeals  to  your  nature  most, 
seek  out  the  quiet  restful  places — not  the 
crowded  resorts  with  their  hollow  sem- 
blance of  refinement  and  indolence  of  life — 
and  breathe  the  pure  air  you  will  find  there, 
gaze  upon  the  beauties  of  nature  with  which 
you  will  be  surrounded,  and  commune  with 
nature's  God.  Discard  the  clothes  of 
fashion  and  don  a  sensible  garb,  such  as 
Dame  Nature  likes,  and  you  will  then  be 
in  a  position  to  rollic  with  her,  join  with 
her  in  heart  to  heart  talks,  and  by  doing 
this  you  will  soon  feel  the  better  impulses 
of  .your  being  knocking  at  the  door  for 
entrance,  faintly  perhaps  at  first,  for  nature 


216 


WESTERN  FIELD 


in  her  workings  is  a  coy  maiden,  but  soon 
louder  then  louder  until  resistance  is  no  longer 
possible,  and  you  give  way  to  them  and 
your  whole  being  will  throb  and  tingle  with 
new  life,  new  emotions  and  lofty  thought. 
Try   the   remedy;   it   is   well   worth  it. 

If  you  are  a  lover  of  the  grand  and  awe- 
inspiring  in  nature,  go  to  the  mountains 
to  some  quiet  restful  spot  in  their  midst 
and  study  them.  Their  moods  are  fanciful. 
They  are  never  the  same  from  one  moment 
to  another.  The  lights  and  shadows  play 
upon  them  constantly,  changing  their  con- 
tour so  that  the  vista  upon  which  you  are 
looking  at  a  given  time  is  entirely  different 
from  that  upon  which  you  gazed  a  moment 
before.  You  cannot  catch  up  with  the 
mountains,  so  to  speak;  like  the  will-o'-the- 
wisp  they  elude  you  at  every  turn.  Yet, 
they  stand  there  impregnable,  grand,  in- 
spiring— concrete  matter  that  has  battled 
with  the  elements  for  countless  ages.  Geol- 
ogists tell  us  that  the  mountains  are  the 
resultant  of  an  uplift  of  the  strata  of  the 
earth,  produced  by  the  tremendous  forces 
of  nature,  and  volcanic  action.  All  this 
took  place  thousands  of  years  ago,  and 
when  in  the  presence  of  the  mountains 
we  stop  and  think  of  their  age,  of  the  awful 
forces  which  produced  them,  of  their  mag- 
nitude as  they  rear  their  snow-crowned 
crests  far  up  into  the  heavens  and  the 
beauty  and  sublimity  of  their  ensemble,  we 
realize  that  we  are  very  insignificant  crea- 
tures, indeed.  The  lofty  opinion  of  our- 
selves gained  by  men's  flattery  (usually 
insincere)  soon  takes  wings  and  flies  away 
in  the  presence  of  the  mountains.  We 
realize  how  infinitesimal  we  are,  and  this  is 
a  step  in  the  right  direction  for  it  makes 
us  more  humble,  more  tolerant  of  the  views 
of  others,  and  above  all,  we  are  impressed 
with  the  compelling  thought  of  a  deeper 
meaning  to  life  than  we  have  dreamed  of 
in  our  artificial  city  existence.  Communion 
with  the  mountains  will  bring  relief  to  the 
fagged-out  brain  and  rest  to  the  tired  body. 
But,  you  must  seek  the  solitude  of  the 
mountains  if  you  wish  to  get  what  is  best 
out  of  them.  In  their  deep  recesses,  where 
the  silence  of  the  ages  prevails,  you  can 
drink  in  their  mystery,  their  grandeur  and 
their  solemnity,  and  catch  something  of  the 
inspiration  which  is  all  about  you — can  en- 
joy the  mountains  as  they  ought  to.  be 
enjoyed.     This   you   cannot   do,   if   you  are 


possessed  of  the  true  spirit,  by  lingering 
with    the   throng. 

If,  perchance,  your  tastes  run  to  the  more 
subdued  beauties  of  nature,  then  while 
away  your  spare  time  where  the  forests 
murmur,  the  brooks  run  peacefully  along 
and  the  sleepy  cows  stands  in  the  cool  re- 
freshing waters  to  escape  the  noontide 
heat.  Let  your  soul  go  forth  and  meet 
the  soul  of  nature  in  her  many  hued  garb. 
Talk  to  her  as  you  would  to  your  dearest 
friend.  You  will  find  her  a  good  listener, 
and  all  the  while  the  music  of  her  many 
throated  choir  will  pour  into  your  ear,  and 
before  you  know  it  her  mystic  spell  will 
be  upon  you  and  heart,  soul,  eye  and  sense 
will  be  her  willing  captive. 

And  now  in  conclusion,  a  word  about 
the  flowers.  If  you  are  a  lover  of  them — 
and  who  is  not! — search  for  them  in  the 
green  fields  or  on  the  mountain  sides,  or 
in  the  gloom  of  the  forest.  You  will  find 
them  everywhere,  beautiful,  fragile,  fra- 
grant. You  will  be  surprised  that  they 
grow  in  such  profusion.  Alas,  you  have 
overlooked  this  for  many  years.  You  have 
been  ignorant  of  the  bounties  of  nature. 
The  crowded  city  with  its  dirty,  noisy  con- 
gested streets  has  been  good  enough  for 
you  and  the  golden  gifts  of  nature  have 
been  overlooked.  You  have  done  this  not 
wilfully,  because  there  is  still  good  in  your 
heart,  but  carelessly,  because  you  have  been 
so  engrossed  in  sordid  things  that  you 
have  not  had  time.  But  now  you  have 
called  a  halt,  you  are  thinking  along  higher 
and  better  lines.  See  the  flowers  all  around 
you,  right  at  your  feet,  pretty  fragrant 
things  pure  as  the  dreams  of  angels,  they 
nod  and  smile  in  your  face  and  seem  to 
say  to  you  "Now  we  are  friends.  We  have 
been  strangers  long,  too  long,  but  that  time 
has  passed  and  we  both  meet  on  common 
ground,  each  with  our  mission  to  perform 
in  the  world.  You,  strong  man,  to  go 
forth  and  fight  for  right  and  better  citizen- 
ship and  the  uplifting  of  the  human  race. 
We,  by  our  beauty  and  fragrance  to  creep 
into  the  little  dark  recesses  of  the  human 
heart  and  help  to  cheer  and  make  men 
better  and  nobler  by  our  refining  in- 
fluences." When  you  go  to  the  mountains, 
the  forest  or  the  fields  do  not  overlook  the 
flowers  for  they  are  one  of  the  fairest  works 
of  the  Creator. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


217 


BROKE   THE   RECORD 

Editor  Western  Field:— The  albicore  record  in  the 
South  Coast  Rod  and  Reel  Club's  Tournament  has 
been  broken.  For  a  long  time  W.  Vaughn  Scott 
held  the  record  at  28^4  pounds  until  Ed.  Winfield 
went  out  in  the  good  launch  Unome  and  brought 
a  thirty-five  pounder  to  gaff  after  a  twenty-five- 
minute  fight. 

Winfield  used  a  nine  ounce  rod  and  a  sufficiently 
small  line  to  get  him  in  the  list.  The  catch  was 
made  off  San  Pedro,  on  the  edge  of  the  great  kelp 
forest  which  runs  around  the  point  north  of  that 
port. 

Other  records  are  being  broken  right  along.  M.  C. 
Little  took  a  seventeen-pound  striped  bass  south  of 
Redondo  a  few  days  ago.  Little  was  fishing  in  the 
surf  and  fought  the  huge  bass  for  more  than  twenty 
minutes.  When  landed  the  fish  was  something  like 
six  inches  in  width  across  the  thickest  part  of  its 
back  and   was   more  than   two   feet   in   length. 

The  capture  of  the  bass,  however,  is  more  than 
a  mere  record;  it  shows  that  the  work  of  the 
Rod  and  Reel  Club  in  planting  these  desirable  game 
fish  is  bearing  fruit.  Several  striped  bass  have 
been  taken  lately,  none  of  them  much  over  five 
pounds,  however,  and  the  new  record  fish  shows  the 
size  to  which  they  will  attain  when  given  an  oppor- 
tunity. 

The  captor  of  the  record  albicore,  to  return  to 
the  first  story,  has  made  a  novel  spoon  with  which 
he   is   taking   yellowtail    every   time   he   goes    out. 

While  trolling  one  day  off  Portuguese  Bend,  Win- 
field lost  a  spoon — one  for  which  he  had  just  paid 
$1.50.  When  he  went  home  he  took  a  small  table- 
spoon, soldered  a  hook  into  the  bowl,  bored  a  hole 
through  the  handle,  strung  it  on  a  piano  wire  leader, 
and  had  a  lure  which  has  worked  just  as  good  as 
the  one  he  lost.  In  fact,  one  afternoon  when  half 
a  dozen  boats  were  out,  fishing  with  regulation  spoons 
and  bone  jigs,  where  plenty  of  yellowtail  were  to 
be  seen,  Winfield  with  his  home-made  spoon  was 
the   only  one  to  take  a  fish. 

He  figures  that  the  spoon  cost  him  between  five 
and  twenty-five  cents,  probably  about  fifteen.  The 
regular  spoon,  sold  by*  sporting  goods  houses  costs 
$1.60.  The  benefits  accruing  from  the  home-made 
spoon    are    obvious. 

"STILLHUNTER." 


BLACK   BASS 

Editor  Western  Field — Has  it  ever  appeared  to 
you  or  to  any  of  the  sportsmen  of  the  state  that 
it  is  all  wrong  to  plant  black  bass  in  the  trout 
and  salmon  streams?  Such  for  instance  as  the 
Russian  River  and  its  feeders.  Thousands  of  steel- 
heads  go  up  these  streams  late  in  the  fall  to  spawn, 
as  well  as  its  tributaries — Mark  West,  Santa  Rosa 
and  others  that  are  fine  trout  streams.  Everyone 
who  is  familiar  with  the  habits  of  the  black  bass 
knows  that  he  is  a  fast,  active  fish  in  the  water 
and  that  his  principal  food  is  the  young  of  the 
other  fishes.  Now  it  seems  to  me  that  it  is  all 
wrong  to  plant  this  species  among  the  little,  delicate 
trout  and  especially  those  that  descend  to  the  salt 
water  every  spring,  as  the  steelhead,  and  as  it  is 
claimed,  the  rainbow  do  also,  and  be  devoured  by 
the  fast,  voracious  bass  lying  in  wait  for  them 
in  all  the  still  pools.  When  a  bass  catches  sight 
of  a  trout  even  up  to  eight  or  ten  inches  in 
length  it  is  all  up  with  the  trout,  and  the  bass 
will  soon  have  the  stream  to  himself.  Of  course 
the  bass  is  a  gamy  fish,  and  a  nice  table  fish, 
but  I  think  the  plan  is  all  wrong  to  plant  them 
in  any  but  land-locked  ponds  or  waters  where  the 
trout  will  not  thrive.  The  lagoons  of  Santa  Rosa 
valley  are  a  fine  home  for  the  black  bass  and  cat- 
fish, but  many  of  the  good  trout  streams  enter  into 
them  and  from  there  into  the  Russian  River. — 
W.    B.    COUTTS. 

(We  think  our  correspondent  is  unnecessarily 
alarmed  over  the  voraciousness  of  the  black  bass. 
There  seems  to  be  no  evidence  that  the  black  bass 
are  reducing  the  trout  supply.  We  should  be 
pleased  to  hear  from  others  who  have  made  a  care- 
ful   study    of    this    subject. — Ed.) 


GOOD   WORK 

THE  splendid  work  being  done  by  Game  Warden 
Welsh  in  Santa  Cruz  County  is  doing  a  world 
of  good  for  the  protection  of  our  game  and 
fish.  Mr.  Welsh  is  an  enthusiastic  game  and  fish 
protectionist  at  heart,  as  well  as  an  untiring  worker, 
fearless  and  impartial  in  the  performance  of  his 
duty  and  the  enforcement  of  the  fish  and  game 
laws.  He  is  constantly  in  the  field,  often  sleeping 
out  in  the  mountains  or  along  the  streams  ready 
to  apprehend  the  violators  of  the  law.  Many  a 
man  who  thought  that  he  was  out  of  the  reach 
of  the  game  warden,  and  therefore  safe  in  his  dis- 
regard of  the  laws  enacted  for  the  preservation  of 
our  game,  has  found,  just  when  he  thought  no 
eye  was  upon  him,  that  Game  Warden  Welsh  had  full 
cognizance  of  his  movements  and  was  just  out 
of  sight  waiting  for  him  to  begin  violations.  Then 
when  the  unmistakable  evidence  was  in  his  pos- 
session an  unexpected  tap  on  the  shoulder  re- 
minded him  that  the  omnipresent  Welsh  had  caught 
him  in  the  act.  Welsh  is  making  a  splendid  record 
as  game  warden,  and  few  violations  take  place  in 
any  part  of  the  county  that  sooner  or  later  are 
not  detected  by  our  efficient  warden,  the  arrest 
made  and  the  offender  convicted.  With  such  an 
active    man    in    charge    of    the    enforcement    of    the 


218 


WESTERN  FIELD 


laws  for  the  protection  of  our  fish  and  game,  Santa 
Cruz  County  will  long  remain  one  of  the  very 
best    game   and    fish    counties    in    the    State. 

SANTA    CRUZ   SPORTSMAN". 


WHAT    I   WANT   TO    KNOW 

I  MAY  want  to  know  more  things  than  Western 
Field  can  answer,  some  things  that  nobody  can 
answer,  and  yet  other  things  that  nobody  will 
answer,   still: 

I  want  to  know  when  the  secretary  of  the  field 
trial   club  is  going  to  publish  the  derby  entries? 

1  want  to  know  what  the  cxmembers  of  the  fish 
commission  think  now  of  their  assertion  that  the 
hunting  license  would  not  bring  in  more  than 
$7000    at    the    most?    and, 

I  want  to  know  if  they  don't  think  now  that 
they  had  a  very  poor  knowledge  of,  and  limited 
acquaintance  with  the  sportsmen  of  the  State  for 
men    incumbering   the   official   position   they   filled? 

I  want  to  know  how  long  Otto  Feudner  had 
been  stall-feeding  that  big  buck  he  recently  killed 
on    the    McCloud? 

I  want  to  know  if  the  new  fish  commissioners 
are  going  to  allow  their  chief  deputy  to  wink  at 
the  constant  violation  of  the  game  law  by  the 
game  dealers  and  restaurant  keepers  of  San  Fran- 
cisco?   and, 

I  want  to  know  if  the  present  commissioners  are 
going  to  believe  him  when  he  tells  them  that  the 
justice  courts  will  not  grant  search  warrants  to 
enter    the    store    rooms    of    these    people? 

I  want  to  know  if  the  members  of  the  field  trial 
club  are  not  beginning  to  think  that  it  is  about 
time  for  them  to  put  a  check-cord  on  the  "classy" 
wild  handlers,  and  compel  them  to  break  their  dogs 
in    the    future? 

I  want  to  know  if  the  new  fish  commissioners 
are  going  to  arrest  a  poor  man  who  has  thirty-six 
ducks  in  his  possession,  and  still  allow  the  game 
dealers  and  restaurant  keepers  to  sell  from  100  to 
5000   a   day?  and, 

I  want  to  know  why,  with  all  the  money  they 
now  have,  they  don't  put  a  stop  to  the  killing  of 
young  ducks  on  the  Stockton  and  other  marshes,  and 
the  seining  of  black  bass  up  the  Sacramento  and 
Russian    Rivers  ? 

I  want  to  know  if  President  Payne  of  the 
Game  Association,  "sot  on"  that  big  salmon,  that 
he  recently  landed  at  Capitola,  with  the  same  skill 
he  flattened  out  Alden  Anderson's  parliamentary 
tactics    at    Monterey? 


1  want  to  know  if  some  of  the  members  of  the 
fiy-casting  club  are  not  sorry  now  that  they  did 
not   enter   the    National   contests   back   East? 

1  want  to  know  if  the  present  fish  commission 
are  going  to  try  and  get  into  touch  with  the  sports- 
men of  the  State  and  secure  their  co-operation  in 
the  performance  of  the  duties  devolving  upon  the 
board,  or  if  they  intend  to  allow  their  chief  deputy 
to  continue  bis  policy  of  opposition  to  them,  and 
insult  every  one  who  does  not  agree  with  his 
peculiar  methods? 

I  want  to  know  what  the  late  Senate  fish  and 
game  committee  think  now  of  its  recommendation 
that    the    hunting    license    bill    "do    not    pass"? 

I  want  to  know  what  Cheap  John  brain  is  re- 
sponsible for  the  flimsy,  twenty-seven- for-a-nickel 
hunting  license  tags,  that  are  generally  considered 
an  insult  to  the  sportsmen  and  a  disgrace  to  the 
State? 

I  want  to  know  if  Otto  Feudner  has  caught  any 
salmon  on  those  exquisite  flies  that  a  prominent 
amateur  fly-maker  presented  to  him? 

I  want  to  know  why  all  the  deer  that  were  shot 
at  this  season  were  wounded  by  the  first  shot  and 
the  dogs  sent  after  them?  Then  I  want  to  know 
just  what  the  deer  hunters  did  to  improve  their 
marksmanship    so    rapidly? 

I  want  to  know  a  good  many  other  things  but 
I  guess  I'll  wait  until  the  editor  of  Western  Field 
gets  back  from  his  bear  hunt  in  British  Columbia. 
He'll   be   full   of   things  to   tell   then. 

Yours   in   search  of  the  truth, 

INQUISITIVE   IKE. 


A   CHANCE   FOR   ANGLERS 

AT  A  meeting  of  the  Directors  of  the  Tuna 
Club  held  at  Avalon  on  August  24th,  it  was 
decided  to  award  a  diamond  button  to  the 
angler  (male  only)  taking  upon  light  tackle,  a 
tuna  of  not  less  than  eighty  pounds  weight.  This 
requires  a  rod  the  tip  of  which  must  not  measure 
less  than  five  feet  nor  weigh  more  than  six  ounces, 
no  restriction  upon  weight  or  size  of  the  butt. 
Line    to    be    standard    nine    strand. 

Here  is  a  chance  for  the  expert  angler  to  demon- 
strate his  skill,  have  his  name  heralded  all  over 
the  country,  and  at  the  same  time  secure  a  hand- 
some trophy  commemorative  of  his  achievement. 
Gentlemen  of  the  rod  and  reel  don't  over  work  the 
jewelers  in  the  manufacture  of  these  buttons — just 
keep    them    reasonably    busy. 


GOD'S   COUNTRY 

THE  Gods  live  here,  along  the  mountain  side — 
At  least  my  Gods  among  such  scenes  abide; 
Down  by  the   river,  or  in  wooded  glen, 
In  trees  with  songbirds,  or  in  wild  beasts'  den. 
The    Deity    that    beckons    me    above 
Is  nature's  God — the  God  that's  always  Love. 

I  hear  the  voices  calling  in  the  streams; 
I  hear  the  wisdom  of  a  sage,   it  seems, 
In  tales  of  love  told  by  the  forest  trees, 
In    rustling    whisper    of    the    Autumn    leaves. 
God  made  the  country;  let  me  then  abide 
Along  with  Him,  by  brook  or  mountain  side. 

— Marion  .V.   Baker. 


NORTHWEST  DEPARTMENT 


Devoted  to  Sport  in  Washington,  Oregon  and  British  Columbia 


SPRAY   FROM   SPOKANE 


By  August  Wolf 


ILDER  DE  DAVIE,  scout,  hunter 
and  trapper,  70  years  of  age,  and, 
as  he  says,  "still  too  young  to  be 
married,"  who  came  out  of  the  wilds 
of  the  Colville  Indian  reservation 
with  his  dogs,  horses,  guns  and  a 
few  untamed  things,  passed  the  sum- 
mer with  friends  in  Spokane.  This 
was  his  first  visit  in  fifteen  years. 
He  wanted  to  make  the  trip  from 
Northport  to  Spokane,  130  miles,  on 
horseback,  but  his  shack  mate  pre- 
i  vailed  upon  to  try  the  cushions,  his  first  trip  in 
!  a  railroad  train.  "Davie,"  as  he  is  best  known, 
is  one  of  the  famous  characters  of  the  Pacific 
Northwest.  He  wears  his  hair  long,  in  hunter 
fashion,  but  he  has  discarded  his  buckskin  suit. 
•  When  asked  where  he  was  born  Davie  says  it  never 
happened ;  that  he  just  grew  like  a  mushroom.  He 
lis  a  native  of  Scotland,  where  he  learned  the  art 
■preservative  of  arts  fifty-six  years  ago.  He  has  a 
i case  of  type  in  his  shack  and  frequently  sets  up 
'letters  to  his  acquaintances.  The  veteran  trap- 
■per's  chief  interest  is  centered  in  nature  study, 
and  in  the  secret  craft  of  the  forest  he  could 
teach  the  masters.  He  came  overland  through  the 
Sioux  country,  and  few  men  living  have  seen  the 
phases  of  border  life  that  went  to  make  up  his 
experience.  The  old  heroes  of  the  frontier  are  all 
familiar  figures  in  his  memory,  and  he  carries  a 
gold   watch,   given   for   service   in    the   Oregon   Indian 


Joseph  Goeller  of  Spokane,  Dr.  S.  Weider  of 
Fairbury,  Neb.,  and  a  party  of  eastern  Washing- 
ton and  Nebraska  men  left  Spokane  early  in  Sep- 
tember on  a  hunt  for  bears,  mountain  lions  and 
elk  in  the  mountains,  200  miles  north  of  Spokane, 
under  the  guidance  of  Tom  Hopper,  bear  hunter. 
They  will  remain  out  three  weeks.  Camping  in 
the  foothills.  Hopper  took  with  him  his  pack  of 
bear  and  wolf  hounds,  which  have  achieved  re- 
markable  things   in   the   last  two   years. 


Hunters  in  eastern  Washington  report  good  sport 
hooting  grouse  in  the  Okanogan  country,  north- 
ast  of  Spokane,  where  the  season  opened  August 
5th.  The  season  is  now  on  for  all  upland  birds 
xcept     quail.       Game     Warden     J.     A.     Uhlig     says 

e    birds    have    been    well    protected    and    that    there 


1 


has  been  little  or  no  shooting  out  of  season.  Sev- 
eral hundred  licenses  were  issued  by  the  auditor 
of  Spokane  county.  It  will  close  November  15th. 
For  elk,  moose,  antelope,  mountain  sheep,  the  sea- 
son is  from  September  15th  to  November  15th. 
For  cariboo,  September  15th  to  December  15th. 
Water  fowls,  ducks,  geese,  swan,  brant,  sandhill 
crane  and  snipe  can  be  shot  from  September  1st 
to  March  1st.  The  Mongolian  pheasant  season 
closed   September   15th. 

William  Stillson  and  William  Duval,  farmers  liv- 
ing near  Summit,  Wash.,  sent  to  Elma,  north  of 
Spokane,  the  lergest  cougar  killed  in  years.  The 
animal  was  six  feet  three  inches  in  length,  and 
was  noted  for  the  unusual  muscular  body,  particu- 
larly the  legs.  Sheep  and  young  stock  were  killed 
for  weeks  and  efforts  were  made  to  find  the  de- 
stroyer without  success  until  Stillson  and  Duval 
trapped  the  cougar.  They  found  the  animal  with 
its  hind  foot  in  one  trap  and  its  front  one  in 
another.  They  had  no  weapon  and  one  hurried 
to  the  house  for  a  gun,  the  other  remaining  on 
guard.  The  animal  succeeded  in  tearing  its 
hind  foot  from  the  trap,  and  this  gave  it  greater 
freedom  to  work  the  other  one  loose.  Before  the 
animal  could  liberate  itself  the  man  returned  with 
the  rifle  and  three  shots  through  the  animal's  head 
laid    it    low. 


For  the  three  months  ending  J  ne  30th  the  state 
of  Washington  paid  $7691  for  wild  animal  boun- 
ties. Bounty  was  paid  on  4546  coyotes  at  $1  each, 
14  cougars  at  $5  each  and  830  wildcats  at  $2.50 
each.  In  Spotcane  county  309  coyotes  and  10  wild- 
cats were  shown  to  have  had  their  leases  of  life 
shortened.  In  Adams  county  476  coyotes  and  three 
wildcats  bit  the  dust  in  death.  Douglas  county 
accounted  for  661  coyotes  and  29  wildcats,  in  Ferry 
20  coyotes  and  12  wildcats,  in  Franklin  11  coyotes 
and  four  wildcats,  Garfield  291  coyotes  and  one 
lone  wildcat,  Stevens  58  coyotes  and  7  wildcats. 
Cougars  were  killed  in  Chelan,  Cowlitz,  Lewis, 
Mason,    Skamania    arid    Stevens    counties. 


The  biggest  rainbow  trout  ever  taken  in  the 
Crow's  Nest  Pass  district  of  East  Kootenay,  north 
of  Spokane,  was  captured  recently  by  Elenore 
Latdlaw,   daughter   of   Andrew    Laidlaw,   of   Spokane. 


220 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Miss  Laidlaw,  who  is  sixteen  years  old,  caught  the 
trout  with  an  eight-ounce  rod.  It  weighed  four 
and  a  half  pounds,  measuring  26  inches  in  length, 
Hid  12  inches  in  girth.  The  fish  was  taken  in 
Crow's  Nest  lake,  a  beautiful  sheet  of  water  located 
on  the  peak  of  the  divide  between  the  provinces 
of  British  Columbia  and  Alberta.  The  lake  is 
fed  from  a  great  stream  which  gushes  forth  from 
the  side  of  a  steep  mountain,  and  constitutes  one 
of   the  scenic   features  of  the    Boundary   country. 


Six  pounds  13  2-3  ounces  was  the  weight  of  a 
black  bass  caught  by  Justice  G.  W.  Stocker  while 
on  a  fishing  trip  to  Fish  Trap  Lake,  west  of  here, 
with  O.  B.  Galloway,  Fred  H.  Witt  and  Lewis 
Martin  of  Spokane.  The  finny  monster  cut  many 
a  caper  with  the  tall,  stalwart  dispenser  of  jus- 
tice, and  for  a  time  it  looked  as  though  a  minia- 
ture whale  was  nibbling  the  end  of  the  judge's 
strong  line.  Sixty  pounds  of  fish  was  caught  by 
the  party.  Black  bass  and  perch  predominated  and 
many  fine  specimens  of  each  were  brought  back  by 
the    bunch. 


George  T.  Crane,  president  of  the  board  of  trus- 
tees of  the  Spokane  Interstate  Fair  Association, 
made  a  catch  of  eleven  big  bass,  one  of  which 
weighed  seven  pounds,  in  Clem  King's  private  lake 
near  Hayden  lake,  Ida.,  east  of  Spokane.  Mr.  Crane 
was  informed  by  Homer  King  that  the  fish  were 
not  biting  well  in  his  lake,  but  he  wanted  to  try 
his  hand  at  it  at  any  rate  and  as  a  result  he 
secured   nearly    a   dozen    of   the   finny   beauties. 


Sportsmen  in  the  Spokane  country  are  looking 
forward  to  the  best  duck  shooting  in  years  in 
the  Inland  Empire  of  the  Pacific  Northwest  when 
the  season  opens  the  first  of  September.  Reports 
from  the  various  feeding  grounds  are  that  ducks 
are  breeding  by  the  thousands,  and  there  has  been 
a  big  influx  of  birds  from  the  North  lands.  Prep- 
arations are  already  being  made  by  a  number  of 
shooting  organizations  to  invade  the  lake  and  marsh 
districts    and    the    crack    of    powder    and    the    rattle 


Of  ihot  on  the  cranebrakes  will  break  the  still- 
ness m  the  isolated  spots  and  afford  sport  not 
equaled    in    years. 

There  are  several  private  preserves  near  Spokane 
wnerc  teal  and  mallard  are  plentiful,  but  for  sports- 
men who  do  not  belong  to  the  clubs  controlling 
the  grounds  or  are  not  fortunate  enough  to  get 
invitations,  there  are  dozens  of  places  in  the  Spo- 
kane country,  called  "the  land  of  a  thousand  lakes," 
where  any  one  holding  a  hunting  license  can  shoot. 
Among  these  places  are  Downs  and  Colville  and 
a  number  of  small  lakes  near  Sprague,  in  which 
is  probably  the  best  open  shooting.  Calispel  lake 
and  the  Pend  d'Oreille  river  are  also  good  resorts. 
The  best  shooting  on  the  river,  however,  does  not 
come  till  November,  when  the  lake  takes  on  a 
thin   coat   of   ice. 

Up  the  Grand  Coulee  from  Coulee  City,  on  the 
old  bed  of  the  Columbia  river,  is  one  of  the  most 
picturesque  duck  lake  regions  in  the  country,  but 
shooting  is  difficult  owing  to  the  lack  of  cover. 
As  far  north  as  Steamboat  rock  and  Steamboat  lake 
the  ducks  are  thickest. 

Spokane  sportsmen  are  interested  in  two  of  the 
finest  duck  preserves  in  the  Pacific  Northwest.  One 
is  at  Moses  lake,  which  is  controlled  by  the  Blue 
Wing  Duck  Club.  Among  its  members,  who  never 
number  more  than  a  dozen,  are  Dr.  and  Mrs.  C.  P. 
Thomas,  R.  J.  Danson,  C.  B.  Hopkins,  George  T. 
Crane,  Alfred  Coolidge  and  M.  J.  Gordon.  Moses 
lake  is  on  the  railroad  near  Ephrata,  Wash.,  west 
of  Spokane,  taking  a  ten-mile  drive  across  the 
country.  There  is  a  fifty-mile  shore  line  on  this 
lake,  fully  half  of  which  is  an  ideal  marsh  for 
duck    shooting. 

Another  preserve  is  controlled  by  a  club  of  six, 
including  Fred  H.  Mason,  E.  J.  Roberts,  Michael 
Lang,  Austin  Corbin,  II.,  Col.  I.  N.  Peyton  and 
B.  L.  Gordon.  This  preserve  is  near  Odessa,  Wash. 
There  are  3000  acres  of  marsh.  This  club  is 
liberal    in    its    invitations    to    visiting    sportsmen. 

The  native  ducks  are  the  teal  and  the  mallard. 
The  northern  ducks  do  not  begin  to  come  down 
till  about  the  middle  or  latter  part  of  October,  when 
the  rainy  season  opens.  Then  practically  every  kind 
of  duck,  including  the  well-known  canvasback  and 
the   redheads,    can    be   found. 


•  •• 


ANTICIPATION 


I    SMELL  the  smoke  of  the  old  camp-fire, 

■    And  my  nostrils  welcome  the  tang; 

As  the  leaves  grow   sere,   and  the  snow   con 

I   rehearse  the  old  songs   we  sang; 

For  the  hunting  ground  in  the  forest   free 

Is  the  brightest  spot  in  the  past  for  me. 


A    comrade    or    two,    in    a    shady    nook, 

Where  the   snow   flakes   fall   soft   and  light; 

With  a  turn  at  the  chase,  and  a  day  to  cook— 

And   an   appetite   j  ust   right ; 

A  trout  through  the  ice  from  the  stream  near  by. 

And   a   nightcap  built   from  the  golden   rye. 


A  bed  on  the  boughs  of  spruce  or  pine, 

(Not  an  envelope  filled  with  air) 

A  sleep  on  a  couch  of  my  own  design 

Fills  the  heart  with  a  nature-prayer; 

And  I  feast  even  now,  as  the  snow  comes  nigher, 

On  the  smell  of  the  smoke  of  the  old  camp-fire. 

— Marion  N.  Baker. 


THE    1907    RACE   FOR   THE   PERPETUAL   CHALLENGE  CUP 

By  Arthur  Inkersley. 


HE  blue  ribbon  of  yachting  on  San 
Francisco  Bay  is  the  winning  of  the 
Perpetual  Challenge  Cup,  which  was 
bought  by  subscription  in  1894  and 
placed  in  care  of  the  Encinal  Yacht 
Club,  then  a  more  active  element  of 
yachting  than  it  has  been  for  many 
years  past.  The  deed  of  gift  pro- 
vides that  the  race  must  take  place 
between  April  and  September,  that  is, 
during  the  regular  San  Francisco 
yachting  season,  when  the  winds  are 
strong  and  almost  absolutely  certain  to  blow  in  the 
afternoon.  After  a  challenge  has  been  sent  in  and 
accepted,  the  race  must  be  held  over  the  course  of 
the  challenged  club  not  earlier  than  thirty  days  nor 
later  than  sixty  days  after  the  date  of  the  challenge. 
The  first  race  was  held  in  1895,  the  San  Francisco 
Yacht  Club  challenging  with  the  sloop  Queen,  then  (I 
believe)  owned  by  Charles  Morrell,  but  later  by  Frank 
A.  Bartlett.  The  Encinal  Yacht  Club  defended  with 
Commodore  Leonard's  sloop  El  Sueno,  which  won 
by  the  ample  margin  of  8  minutes  25  seconds.  The 
race  was  held  over  the  Encinal  Yacht  Club's  course 
on  August  31,  later  in  the  season  than  any  subse- 
quent contest  for  the  Perpetual  Cup. 

In  1896  the  San  Francisco  Yacht  Club  challenged 
with  the  Sutherland  Brothers'  sloop  Catherine,  the 
Encinal  Yacht  Club  defending  with  the  sloop  Fawn, 
owned  by  a  syndicate  of  members.  The  race  took 
place  on  August  15,  the  sloop  Catherine  being  beaten 
by  7  minutes  55  seconds,  owing  in  great  part  to 
clumsy  handling  of  the  topsail,  which  remained  up 
long  after  it  had  become  a  hindrance  to  the  progress 
of  the  boat. 

In  1897  the  Corinthian  Yacht  Club  first  took  a 
hand  in  the  contest  in  which  it  has  ever  since  played 
an  important,  and  nearly  always  a  victorious,  part, 
challenging  with  Westerfeld  and  Morrow's  sloop 
Aeolus.  The  Encinal  Yacht  Club  defended  with  the 
Fawn,  which  was  beaten  by  6  minutes  47  seconds,  the 
race  being  held  on  June  26. 

In  1898  there  was  no  race  for  the  trophy,  which 
remained  in  the  possession  of  the  Corinthians.  In 
1899  the  San  Francisco  Yacht  Club  challenged  with 
Matthew  Turner's  sloop  Gadder,  which  had  estab- 
lished a  high  reputation  for  speed  in  the  waters  near 
Benicia  and  Vallejo.  The  Corinthians  defended  with 
Commodore    J.    W.    Pew's    sloop    Truant,    which    was 


beaten  by  1  minute  58  seconds,  the  trophy  passing 
into  the  custody  of  the  San  Francisco  Yacht  Club. 

In  1900  the  Corinthians  challenged  with  the  Aeolus, 
the  San  Francisco  Yacht  Club  defending  with  the 
Gadder,  which  was  beaten  by  the  large  margin  of  25 
minutes  30  seconds.     The  race  took  place  on  August  4. 

In  1901  the  Vallejo  Yacht  Club  challenged  with 
Commodore  A.  E.  ("Charlie")  Chapman's  sloop  Helen, 
which  was  defeated  by  the  Corinthian  defender,  Frank 
Stone's  Presto,  by  the  narrow  margin  of  40  6-10  sec- 
onds.    The  race  took  place  on  August  10. 

In  1902  the  San  Francisco  Yacht  Club  built  the 
sloop  Challenger,  designed  by  B.  B.  Crowninshield 
and  constructed  by  John  Twigg  and  Sons  of  San 
Francisco.  She  defeated  the  Corinthian  defender 
Harpoon  by  a  margin  of  10  minutes  54  seconds  on 
May  31,  and  regained  the  coveted  trophy. 

The  Corinthians,  determined  to  legain  the  Cup, 
had  a  design  prepared  by  Burgess  and  Packard  of 
Boston.  Believing  that  the  Challenger  is  as  good  a 
fin-keel  boat  of  her  dimensions  as  they  could  hope  to 
get,  the  Corinthians  decided  to  have  a  boat  of  an 
entirely  different  type.  The  Corinthian  (as  she  was 
named)  is  a  very  beamy,  flat-floored,  shallow  craft, 
consisting  of  a  wooden  skin  on  a  steel  frame.  She 
has  no  interior  accommodations,  no  cock-pits  and  not 
even  an  apology  for  a  rail,  but  she  can  carry  a 
good  deal  of  canvas,  points  high  and  foots  fast. 
Owing  to  delay  in  getting  the  steel  framework  from 
the  Eastern  States,  it  was  not  possible  to  have  the 
boat  built  and  tried  for  a  race  in  1903,  but  in  1904,  on 
July  9,  the  Corinthian  (challenger)  and  the  Chal- 
lenger (defender)  met,  the  Corinthian  winning  by  the 
narrow  margin   of  41   seconds. 

In  1905  it  was  the  turn  of  the  San  Francisco  Yacht 
Club  to  challenge  with  the  Challenger,  which  had 
passed  into  the  ownership  of  W.  G.  Morrow,  who 
had  been  very  active  in  gathering  the  subscriptions  to 
build  her  and  had  sailed  her  in  the  race  of  1902,  when 
she  defeated  J.  H.  Sharpe's  sloop  Harpoon.  The  race 
took  place  on  July  7  and  was  won  by  the  Corinthian 
by  8  minutes  26  seconds,  on  a  breezy  day.  The  win- 
ning boat  showed  her  superiority  in  every  point  of 
sailing,  though  the  members  of  the  San  Francisco 
Yacht  Club  had  hoped  that  their  lepresentative  would 
make  better  speed  when  close-hauled  in  a  strong 
breeze  and  choppy  sea.  As  a  re*rtilt  of  this  race,  W. 
G.  Morrow  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  Challenger, 
fast    and   handy   though   she   is,    is   not   a   match    in   a 


222 


WESTERN  FIELD 


mcc  f»r  the  Corinthian.  In  1906  the  earthquake  and 
tire  upset  any  arrangements  that  might  have  been  made 
for  a  race. 

The  races  for  the  Perpetual  Challenge  Cup  between 
the  representative  boats  of  the  Corinthian  and  the  San 
Francisco  Yacht  Clubs  all  took  place  between  30- 
footers,  though  nothing  in  the  deed  of  gift  of  the 
trophy  renders  this  necessary,  the  only  provision  being 
that  the  defender  must  be  within  ten  per  cent  of  the 
racing  measurement  of  the  challenger.  Towards  the 
end  of  last  year's  yachting  season  there  was  some 
talk  among  the  members  of  the  San  Francisco  Yacht 
Club  about  challenging  in  another  class,  but  nothing 
came  of  it,  for  the  challenge  of  the  South  Coast  Yacht 
Club,  with  A.  M.  Squire's  sloop  Valkyrie  as  its  cham- 
pion, was  accepted  by  the  Corinthians.  The  Valkyrie 
was  brought  up  from  San  Pedro  harbor  towards  the 
end  of  July  and  first  appeared  under  sail  in  San 
Francisco  Bay  in  the  fourth  week  of  that  month. 
Her  captain  was  W.  C.  Folsom  and  her  crew  was 
made  up  of  R.  M.  Fulton,  J.  Norman  Densham  and 
Oscar  Freitag.  The  Valkyrie  was  designed  by  Crow- 
ninshield  of  Boston  and  showed  great  speed  in  her 
trials  in  the  waters  of  Southern  California,  beating 
the  Merlin,  a  sister  boat,  also  owned  by  A.  M. 
Squire,  handily.  The  Corinthians  selected  as  the 
cup-defender  John  E.  McFarlane's  sloop  Discovery, 
which  was  designed  and  built  by  her  owner  and  skip- 
per. The  race  took  place  on  Saturday,.  August  3, 
over  the  Corinthian  course  in  the  Bay  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, the  arrangements  being  in  the  hands  of  a  com- 
mittee consisting  of  T.  J.  Kavanagh,  Charles  Gerlach 
and  Douglas  Erskine,  representing  the  Corinthian 
Yacht  Club,  and  A.  Lester  Best,  L.  K.  Small  and  W. 
G.   Morrow  representing  the  South  Coast  Yacht  Club. 

The  starting-signal  was  given  at  1:30:00  p.  m.,  the 
Discovery,  which  was  in  a  good  position  when  the 
gun  was  fired,  crossing  the  line  first  at  1:30:37,  and 
the  Valkyrie  following,  51  seconds  later,  at  1:31:28. 
There  was  a  strong,  steady  breeze  and  the  tide  was 
just  beginning  to  run  flood.  The  Discovery,  as  is 
usual  in  flood  tide  races  over  the  channel  course, 
made  short  tacks  along  the  Presidio  shore,  with  sheets 
started,  and  gained  4  minutes  23  seconds  on  the  first 
leg  to  windward.  The  skipper  of  the  Valkyrie  stood 
out,  hoping  to  gain  the  benefit  of  the  last  of  the 
ebb  tide,  but  he  kept  his  sheets  hauled  too  close,  his 
main-boom  being  over  the  cockpit.  On  the  3-mile  run 
to  Goat  Island  Shoal  buoy  the  Southern  yacht  gained 
a  little,  both  skippers  keeping  their  spinnakers  set 
too  long.  When  abreast  of  the  buoy  the  Discovery 
gybed  the  Valkyrie,  gybing  while  still  at  some  distance 
from  the  mark  and  having  to  gybe  again  on  reaching 
for  it.  This  cost  the  Valkyrie  some  time  but,  not- 
withstanding, she  gained  28  seconds  on  the  reach  to 
Southampton  Shoal.  When  the  boats  rounded  the 
stakeboat  at  the  shoal  there  was  only  1  minute  17 
seconds  between  them,  allowing  for  the  Valkyrie's 
handicap  of  2  minutes  13  seconds.  On  the  second 
beat  out  to  Presidio  Shoal  Buoy  the  Discovery  footed 
fast,  while  the  Valkyrie  made  slow  headway  in  the 
heavy  sea.  Discovery  rounded  the  Presidio  Shoal 
Buoy  for  the  second  time  more  than  26  minutes  ahead 
of  Valkyrie  and  crossed  the  finishing-line  25  minutes 
10  seconds  in  front  of  her  rival.  The  elapsed  and 
corrected  time  of  Discovery  was  3:03:11,  while  the 
elapsed  time  of  Valkyrie  was  3:27:30,  and  her  cor- 
rected time  (after  deducting  her  time  allowance  of 
2:13)   was  3:25:17.     Discovery  thus  won  the  race  by 


a  margin  of  22  minutes  6  seconds  over  a  course  esti- 
mated at  fourteen  miles  and  retained  the  San  Fran- 
cisco Perpetual  Challenge  Cup  for  the  Corinthian 
Yacht  Club.  It  is  probable  that  the  Discovery's  skip- 
per could  have  won  by  an  even  larger  margin,  but, 
having  the  race  well  in  hand,  he  wisely  ran  no  risks 
and  tried  no  experiments.  John  E.  McFarlane  was 
skipper  of  the  winning  boat,  his  crew  consisting  of  his 
brother  Alexander  McFarlane,  J.  Stack,  E.  Ham- 
bcrgcr  and  S.   S.   Marshal). 

The  race  made  it  evident  that  the  Valkyrie  is  a 
smart,  handy  boat,  but  unsuited  to  the  strong  breezes 
and  heavy  seas  prevailing  in  San  Francisco  Bay  dur- 
ing the  summer.  Her  skipper  and  crew  were  not 
accustomed  to  handling  their  craft  in  rough  water 
and  did  not  get  the  best  speed  of  which  she  is  capable 
out  of  her.  But  nothing  could  have  changed  the  result 
of  the  race,  though  the  margin  by  which  the  Dis- 
covery won  might  have  been  reduced  somewhat  had 
the  Valkyrie's  skipper  been  more  familiar  than  he  is 
with  the  peculiar  conditions  of  San  Francisco  Bay. 
Though  the  Valkyrie  stood  up  well,  she  did  not  foot 
fast  to  windward.  Her  skipper  did  not  know  that  it 
is  not  possible  to  make  speed  to  windward  against  an 
incoming  tide  if  the  craft  is  close-hauled.  A.  M. 
Squire,  the  owner  of  Valkyrie,  accepted  the  defeat  of 
his   boat    in    good   part    and    showed   himself    a    sports- 

At  the  annual  regatta  of  the  Corinthian  Yacht  Club 
on  Decoration  Day  J.  E.  McFarlane's  Discovery  took 
first  place  in  Class  II,  receiving  a  handicap  of  seven 
minutes  and  beating  the  Kathleen,  Emma,  Edna  and 
Meteor,  each  of  which  received  two  minutes,  the 
Aloha,  which  received  2:30,  the  yawl  Truant,  which 
received  3  minutes;  the  sloop  Edith,  which  received 
9}4  minutes,  and  the  sloop  Freda,  which  received  10 
minutes.  The  remarkable  thing  about  the  result  of 
the  race  is  that  Discovery  was  built  seven  years  ago 
by  her  owner,  a  carpenter,  while  the  Valkyrie  is  one 
of  the  most  recent  creations  of  the  famous  Boston 
designer,  B.  B.  Crowninshield.  At  the  regatta  at 
Santa  Barbara  during  the  thiid  week  of  August  the 
Valkyrie  showed  much  better  form  than  in  San  Fran- 
cisco Bay  and  won  the  arbitrary  handicap  race. 
Though  it  must  have  been  disappointing  to  the  South- 
ern yachtsmen  to  make  so  long  a  journey  and  not 
even  experience  the  excitement  of  a  close  race,  the 
event  passed  off  well  and  did  a  good  deal  to  promote 
kindly  feeling  between  the  amateur  sailors  of  the 
northern  and  southern  parts  of  California.  The 
southerners  were  well  pleased  with  their  reception  by 
the  yachtsmen  of  San  Francisco  Bay  and  will  be 
glad  to  meet  them  in  friendly  rivalry  on  salt  water 
again. 

The  times  of  the  Discovery  and  the  Valkyrie  on  the 
various  legs  of  the  course  are  given  below: 

H.  M.  S. 

Discovery  crossed  starting  line  at 1 :  30 :  37 

Valkyrie  crossed  starting  line   at 1 :  3 1 :  28 

:51 

Discovery  crossed   finishing  line   at 4:33:48 

Valkyrie   crossed   finishing  line   at 4:58:58 

25:  10 

Valkyrie's    corrected    time    was 3 :  25 :  17 

Discovery's   corrected   time    was 3 :  03 :  11 

Discovery    won    by    22 :  06 


GUNSHYNESS 


CO 

/ 

HEN  the  season  opens  on  the 
ISth  instant,  and  the  young 
sportsman  takes  his  setter  or 
pointer  afield  for  the  first  time, 
he  may  be  sadly  disappointed, 
and  annoyed  to  find  that  he  is 
gimshy.  But  gunshyness  in 
highly-bred  puppies  is  not  at  all 
uncommon,  nor  should  the 
handler  be  seriously  worried 
over   its   appearance   in  his  young   dog. 

As  there  are  various  degrees  of  gunshyness 
so  also  are  there  various  causes  for  its  ex- 
istence. Generally  it  is  the  result  of  a  highly- 
nervous  development,  often  caused  by  too 
close  interbreeding.  Some  times  it  is  the 
result  of  some  physical  malady  of  which  the 
puppy  is  suffering  at  the  time.  Often  gun- 
shyness has  been  caused  by  the  pure  thought- 
lessness of  the  trainer  in  firing  a  heavy  charge 
right  over  the  puppy's  head,  this  being  the 
first  time  he  ever  heard  the  report  of  a  gun. 
The  unexpected  report  of  a  gun  will  startle 
anything,  even  the  confirmed  sportsman, 
should  it  be  very  near  him.  Is  it  strange, 
then,  that  a  highly  nervous  puppy  should  be 
startled  and  badly  scared  when  he  hears  for 
the  first  time  this  startling  noise?  I  believe 
more  puppies  are  made  gunshy  through  such 
thoughtless  practices  than  prove  to  be  gunshy 
through  other  or  natural  causes.  It  is  safe, 
then,  to  lay  down  this  rule :  never  fire  the 
gun  when  dose  to  your  puppy  until  you  are 
sure   that  he  is  not  afraid  of  the  report. 

When  you  first  take  your  puppy  into  the 
field,  if  you  are  not  living  where  you  have 
had  an  opportunity  to  get  him  used  to  the 
report  before  putting  him  on  game,  let  him 
get  as  far  away  from  you  as  possible,  and 
while  he  is  busy  hunting  fire  your  gun.    No- 


tice the  manner  in  which  it  attracts  his  at- 
tention. If  he  is  startled  in  a  way  that  indi- 
cates a  nervous  annoyance,  even  though  very 
slightly,  you  must  be  very  careful  with  him 
for  some  time,  and  not  discharge  your  gun 
close  to  him  until  all  signs  of  fear  have  dis- 
appeared. If  he  goes  on  with  his  work 
oblivious  to  the  noise,  or  throws  his  head  and 
tail  up  as  if  anxious  to  learn  the  source 
and  reason  for  it,  just  "give  him  the  other 
barrel"  with  perfect  confidence, -but  even  then 
shoot  two  or  three  times  with  him  reason- 
ably close  to  you  before  shooting  directly 
over   him. 

As  there  are  many  reasons  for  gunshy- 
ness so  are  there  many  cures  and  many  pro- 
cedures advocated.  I  knew  one  bad  case  of 
gunshyness  that  was  promptly  cured  with  a 
good  dose  of  areca  nut.  The  puppy  was  suf- 
fering from  a  bad  case  of  worms.  Naturally 
he  was  debilitated,  and  being  of  a  high 
nervous  temperament  this  physical  derange- 
ment intensified  his  predisposition  to  nervous 
excitement.  During  a  three-days  hunt  he 
was  chained  to  the  belt  of  his  owner,  but 
made  no  improvement.  I  saw  that  the  puppy 
was  suffering  with  worms  and  suggested  a 
vermifuge.  At  first  I  was  laughed  at,  but 
finally  the  medicine  was  given.  He  was  given 
a  couple  of  days'  rest  after  this,  and  to  the 
delight  of  his  owner  when  taken  into  the 
field  the  morning  of  the  third  day  after  be- 
ing freed  from  the  worms,  he  showed  no 
more  fear  of  the  gun  than  if  he  had  been 
so  deaf  he  couldn't  hear  the  report. 

Some  puppies  are  actually  afraid  of  the 
noise,  but  gunshyness  is  not  always  fear. 
This  is  often  demonstrated  in  the  dog's 
plainly-shown  love  for  the  gun,  and  his  anxiety 
to   go   afield    the    moment   he   is    shown   one. 


224 


WESTERN  FIELD 


I  remember  a  case  where  a  puppy  would 
almost  go  into  fits  when  a  gun  was  fired 
mar  him,  and  while  he  knew  the  gun  made 
the  noise  that  so  disturbed  his  nerves,  the 
minute  he  recovered  he  would  come  to  tl.j 
gun  in  his  owner's  hands  and  lap  it  with  his 
tongue.  Cases  of  this  kind  are  really  pitiable 
ones,  and  the  best  treatment  is  to  get  them 
used  to  the  gun  when  they  are  away  from 
the  excitement  of  the  field,  and  when  their 
nerves  are  in  the  most  quiet  condition  pos- 
sible. This  is  best  done  by  firing  the  gun 
some  distance  away  while  ihey  are  resting 
quietly  in  the  kennel  or  while  they  are  feed- 
ing, coming  closer  each  day  until  their  nerves 
become  used  to  it. 

Other  cases  can  be  cured  in  the  field,  often 
in  one  day,  by  paying  no  attention  to  them. 
Let  the  dog  lie  down  or  hide  as  he  pleases, 
and  go  on  with  your  shooting  the  same  as 
if  you  had  no  dog  with  you.  He  will  be 
pretty  sure  to  follow  you  up,  getting  closer 
and  closer,  and  finally,  becoming  used  to  the 
noise,  will  begin  to  hunt  some  distance  from 
you.  Should  he  establish  a  point  go  to  him 
and  flush  his  bird,  but  do  not  shoot  at  it 
unless  he  is  behind  you. 

The  habit  which  many  have  of  chaining 
a  gunshy  dog  to  their  belt  and  dragging  him 
behind  them  all  day  is  a  bad  one,  and  gen- 
erally increases  the  trouble  by  leading  the  dog 
to  believe  that  the  irritating  report  of  the 
gun  is  a  part  of  his  punishment  for  doing 
something  which  he  cannot  understand.  Better 
leave  him  in  the  shade  of  some  bush  until. 
believing  himself  deserted,  he  will  crawl  out 
and  come  sneaking  after  you. 

There  is  one  method  of  curing  gunshyness 
that  I  have  never  known  to  fail,  even  in  the 
most  confirmed  cases  with  old  dogs.  It  is 
severe  but  may  be  resorted  to  when  others 
fail.  Shut  your  dog  up  in  some  isolated  place 
where  he  will  neither  see  any  person  or 
other  dogs.  Leave  him  there  for  twenty-four 
hours.  Then  take  his  food  in  one  hand  and 
a  pistol  with  blank  cartridges  in  the  other. 
When  you  reach  the  door  of  the  place  of  his 
confinement,  fire  a  shot.  Open  the  door, 
reaching  his  food  in  first,  and  as  you  do  so 
fire  again.  Most  likely  he  will  try  to  hide 
his  head  in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room. 
If  so,  close  the  door  and  leave  him.  saying 
nothing  to  him,  and  be  sure  to  carry  his 
food  away  with  you.  Leave  him  alone  for 
another     twentv-four     hours,     and     then     go 


through  the  same  performance.  Let  him  have 
a  smell  of  the  food  and  place  it  in  the  middle 
of  the  room.  If  he  comes  toward  it  fire 
your  pistol  before  he  reaches  it.  If  he  runs 
back  to  hide  pick  up  the  food  and  walk  out, 
leaving  him  for  twelve  hours  more  before 
trying  again.  Keep  this  up  until  he  eats  while 
you  are  firing  the  pistol  over  him.  From  two 
to  four  days  of  this  treatment  will  be  found 
sufficient.  He  must  not  be  allowed  to  c.t 
anything,  except  under  the  firing  of  the  pistol 
for  the  next  week.  Finally  give  him  nothing 
to  eat  for  twenty-four  hours.  Then  take 
him  afield  and  his  food  with  him.  Set  it 
down  for  him  and  commence  firing  your  gun. 
If  he  should  refuse  to  eat  through  fear  of 
the  gun,  allow  him.  nothing  to  eat  until  the 
next  day  and  try  him  again.  The  second 
day's  trial  will  rarely  be  found  necessary. 
Of  course  you  must  be  careful  that  your 
more  tender-hearted  wife  is  not  slipping  some- 
thing for  him  to  eat  into  his  prison  and 
thus  defeating  your  purpose. 

Because  your  puppy  should  be  gunshy  do 
not  think  him  the  less  valuable.  You  are 
neither  training  a  pit  bull  terrier  nor  a  bear 
dog,  but  a  mild  dispositioned  hunting  com- 
panion ;  and  the  fact  that  he  does  not  show 
reckless  courage  is  nothing  against  him.  Have 
patience  and  give  him  a  little  time.  Many 
of  our  best  field   dogs  were  gunshy  puppies. 


A  NEW  WAY  OF  JUDGING 

An  English  fancier  has  evolved  a  new  j 
method  of  judging  dog  shows  that  seems  to 
have  considerable  merit.  The  new  plan  is- 
to  bring  all  the  dogs  of  the  same  sex  of  a  J 
breed  into  the  ring  at  the  same  time,  no 
matter  what  class  they  are  entered  in,  and 
judge  them  all  together,  marking  them  con- 
secutively from  one  to  ten,  fifteen  or  twenty 
as  the  number  entered  may  be,  the  judge 
of  course  not  to  know  what  classes  they  are 
entered  in.  From  this  list,  where  each  dog 
is  given  his  number  or  rating  of  merit.  each_ 
dog's  position  in  the  several  classes  he  is 
entered  in  is  marked. 

Like  with  all  other  innovations  there  are 
a  good  many  who  claim  to  see  serious  ob- 
jections to  the  new  method.  These  hov.ever 
are  the  professional  breeders  and  exhibitors 
who  have  been  getting  the  long  end  of  the 
rope  by   the  present   scheme   of  judging.     Of 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


225 


the  objections  they  have  put  forth,  there  is 
but  one  that  has  any  merit,  and  that  is  un- 
important. It  is  the  claim  that  if  the  whole 
breed  of  one  sex  is  judged  together,  an  ex- 
hibitor who  has  more  than  one  entry  will 
have  to  trust  the  showing  of  all  but  one  dog 
to  the  attendants. 

There  is  but  little  in  this,  for  unless  the 
same  exhibitor  owned  all  the  good  ones  the 
judge  would  weed  them  out  from  one  end 
of  the  string  or  the  other,  and  as  soon  as 
one  dog  was  disposed  of  he  could  take  charge 
of    another. 

But  to  far  overbalance  this  objection  is 
the  fact  that  judges  will  have  less  opportunity 
to  know  who  owns  .each  dog,  and  not  know- 
ing the  classes  they  are  entered  in  they  will  be 
more  likely  to  judge  the  dogs  purely  on 
their  merits  than  to  award  the  prizes  to  the 
other  end  of  the  chain,  as  is,  alas,  too  often 
done  under  the  present  system.  It  will  also 
prevent  the  judge  from  picking  out  a  few 
favorites  and  sending  the  balance  out  in  a 
lump  of  V.  H.  C's.  It  will  also  save  time 
in  judging  and  handling,  thus  giving  the  judge 
plenty  of  time  to  thoroughly  examine  each 
entry,  and  relieve  him  of  the  too  prevalent 
practice  of  carrying  certain  dogs  right  through 
all  the  classes  for  fear  of  reversing  himself. 
Taken  altogether  the  scheme  is  certainly 
a  good  one  and  a  big  step  in  advance  of  the 
present  method.  This  of  course  is  not  as 
perfect  as  the  score-card  system,  but  there 
is  little  hopes  of  the  score  card  being  adopted, 
for  the  reason  that  judging  by  the  score 
card  necessitates  a  better  knowledge  of  the 
several  breeds  than  our  professional  judges 
have,  and  under  it  judges  could  not  jump 
into  the  ring  after  attending  a  show  or  two, 
look  wise  and  do  their  guessing  at  random. 
Nor  would  any  one  judge,  except  after  years 
of  the  most  careful  and  intelligent  study,  be 
able  to  handle  all  breeds.  Therefore,  if 
,  score-card  judging  ever  becomes  popular,  it 
1  will  come  into  use  by  applying  it  to  one 
breed  at  a  time  and  employing  only  careful 
:   students  of  the  breed   to   do  the   scoring. 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  POINTER 

A  writer  in  Field  and  Fancy  says  of  the 
English  pointer: 

The  English  pointer,  which  is  almost  in  uni- 
versal   use    today;     -as    probably    brought    to    perfec- 


tion about  150  years  ago,  ami  is  the  result  <>f  a 
cross  between  the  Spanish  pointers  of  those  days 
and  the  English  foxhound,  or  even  the  Talbot 
hound  of  the  same  period.  There  were  also  pointers 
in  France  and  Portugal,  and  perhaps  Italy,  before 
they  were  in  England.  It  is  curiously  on  record 
that  about  the  first,  if  not  the  first,  "Spanish" 
pointer  was  introduced  into  Britain  by  a  merchant 
trading  with  Portugal.  This  sportsman,  who  re- 
sided in  Norfolk,  England,  was  so  advanced  in 
the  art  of  fowling  and  firearms  that  he  could  kill 
game  on  the  wing.  This  points  to  the  first  use 
of  pellets  of  lead,  now  called  shot.  So  the  first 
pointer  to  arrive  in  England  from  Portugal  was 
the  one  imported  by  the  Norfolk  merchant  about 
1730. 

It  was  found  that  the  double-nosed  Spanish 
pointer  was  not  at  all  good  tempered,  and  the 
English  did  not  like  him  for  this  reason.  Indeed, 
he  was  not  to  be  compared  with  their  own  fawn- 
ing setter,  which  did  exactly  the  same  work  as 
the  newly  imported  pointer,  save  that  the  former 
"set"  on  his  haunches  or  lay  on  his  belly  when 
he  got  close  to  the  game,  whereas  the  latter  stood 
boldly  up  and  "pointed."  Hence  the  names  of  the 
setter   and   pointer. 

But  to  return  to  the  variety  from  Spain  or 
Portugal,  which  it  was  thought  well  to  cross  with 
the  foxhound.  There  was  a  celebrated  sportsman 
of  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Colonel 
Thornton  by  name.  It  was  said  that  the  York- 
shire gentleman  was  the  first  to  use  the  strange 
blood,  but  whether  he  did  or  not,  he  possessed 
some    wonderful    dogs    early    in    1800. 

There  was  one  particularly  good  dog  by  the 
name  of  Dash.  He  was  produced  by  a  cross  of 
the  foxhound  with  a  high-bred  pointer  bitch,  this 
bitch  being  probably  a  descendant  of  the  old  and 
early  cross  between  the  Spanish  breed  and  the 
English    hound. 

While  it  has  been  denied  that  the  pointer 
contained  a  foxhound  cross,  every  indication 
points  to  the  truth  of  the  above.  To  anyone 
familiar  with  the  type  of  the  Spanish  pointer 
nothing  looks  more  reasonable  than  that  the 
present  so-called  English  pointer  is  the  result 
of  a  hound  cross  on  the  Spanish  breed. 

This  is  especially  apparent  in  the  differentia- 
tion in  skull,  muzzle  and  ears.  The  mark 
of  the  hound  is  often  seen  in  the  eyes,  and 
in  the  comparatively  long  hair  on  the  under 
side  of  the  tail.  That  very  few  of  the  exist- 
ing breeds  of  dogs  are  original  species  and 
that  most  of  the  breeds  we  have  today  are 
the  result  of  innumerable  crosses,  cannot  be 
denied.  For  all  time  the  dog  has  been  the 
close  companion  of  man  and  the  real  origin 
of  the  various  breeds  will  ever  remain  as 
great  a  mystery  as  that  of  the  several  races 
of  men. 


WESTERN  FIELD 


but  three.  English  setters  but  eleven,  ana 
Irish  and  c.i.rilon  Imt  six  each.  Water 
spaniels  but  four.  Even  collies  fell  short 
nf  the  u>ual  percentage  and  only  nuna 
bered  twenty.  The  pet  varieties,  however] 
showed  up  strong.  Cocker  spaniels  led 
the  list  with  a  total  "f  forty  dogs  on  the 
benches.     Boston  terriers  were  a  good  seel 

ond  with  twenty-eight,  followed  by  nine- 
teen each  bull  terriers  and  fox  terrier-,  of 
the  smooth  variety,  and  eleven  of  the  wire- 
haired.  There  were  twelve  English  and 
six  French  bull  dogs.  The  balance  con- 
sisted of  from  one  to  three  each  of  the  lest 
popular  pet  breeds  from  poodles  down  to 
the   usual   alleged    Chihuahua. 

The    club    was    more    than    liberal    in    its 
specials,     consisting     of     cups     and     other 


THE  SAN  MATEO  CLUB'S  SHOW 

The  San  Mateo  Kennel  Club  held  a  one- 
day,  open-air  show  mi  the  grounds  of  F.  J. 
Carolan  at  Burlingame  on  September  9th. 
There  were  entered  altogether  317  dogs,  of 
which  60  were  absent,  making  257  dogs 
actually  benched,  a  very  good  showing  in- 
deed for  a  one-day  show.  The  show 
brought  out  a  large  delegation  of  Bur- 
lingame society  as  well  as  a  strong  repre- 
sentation of  the  San  Francisco  and  San 
Mateo  fanciers.  Of  the  larger  breeds  there 
were  few  entries.  St.  Bernards  and  Great 
Danes  had  but  three  each.  Greyhounds  but 
two.  Russian  wolfhounds,  American  and 
English  foxhounds  but  one  each.     Pointers 


Ralston's    "Delvcrto 

it  and  2nd  Parti-coloi 

San     Mateo    Show. 


i    Dolores" 
Open  Bitche 


trophies  of  a  valuable  nature,  and  which 
had  been  selected  with  better  than  thej 
usual  taste  for  such  functions. 

The  judges  were  all  local  and  were  as-| 
signed  as   follows: 

Mrs.  H.  H.  Carlton,  Berkeley,  Boston! 
terriers  and  French  bull  dogs. 

J.  L.  Cunningham,  San  Francisco,  Great 
Danes. 

F.  P.  Butler,  San  Francisco,  pointers  and- 
all  setters. 

Chas.  K.  Harley.  Ross  Valley,  fox  ter- 
riers, Irish  terriers,  Scottish  terriers,  Skye 
terriers,  Manchester  terriers  and  American 
foxhounds. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


227 


Norman  J.  Stewart,  San  Jose,  collies,  Old 
English  sheep  dogs  and  Airedale  terriers. 
Edmund  Attridge,  San  Francisco,  hull  ter- 
riers   and    Yorkshire    terriers. 

T.  J.  Blight,  San  Francisco,  cocker,  clum- 
ber,  field   and    Irish   water   spaniels. 

Geo.  A.  Cranfield,  Yountville,  grey- 
hounds, Russian  wolfhounds,  English  fox- 
hjounds  and  chows. 

Irving  C.  Ackerman,  San  Francisco,  St. 
Bernards,  bulldogs,  dachshunds,  Dalma- 
tians, poodles,  toys  and  all  other  breeds. 

Most  of  the  judges  donned  the  ermine 
Ifor  the  first  time  on  this  occasion,  and  can- 
Idor  compels  me  to  say  that  while  some 
[of    them    made    errors,    the    judging    as    a 


A.    Cummings'    Italian    Greyhound,    "Zelda 
Winners  1st  Puppies,  San  Mateo  Show. 


idiole    was    fully    as    well    done,    and    with 

ss  serious  blunders  than  has  very  gen- 
rally  followed  the  importation  of  costly 
rofessionals.  One  thing  was  very  plain: 
he  exhibitors  received  the  awards  with 
le  best  of  good  feeling,  and  expressed  the 
lost  general  satisfaction.  The  reason  was, 
iey  knew  the  judges;  had  the  fullest  con- 
dence  in  their  integrity  and  knew  the 
ecisions     to    be    honestly    made,     without 

vor  or  prospective  commissions  on  sales 
esulting   therefrom. 

The  true  sportsman — and  all  fanciers 
'ossess  more  or  less  of  the  sportsman's 
istinct — would    rather    accept    a    bad    de- 

sion    honestly    made,    than    a    good    one 


;.     W.     C.     Ralston's    "Delverton     Dolores" — 1st 
Open    Bitches    (Parti-color).      1st    Winners 


prompted  by  crookedness,   or  the   expecta- 
tion of  personal  reward. 

While  the  management  was  not  as  per- 
fect or  smooth-running  as  it  might  have 
been,  the  show,  taken  all  in  all,  was  a 
success'  and  reflects  credit  on  the  San 
Mateo   Club. 

THE  VENICE  DOG  SHOW 

The  Venice  of  America  Kennel  Club  held 
its  first  annual  show  at  Venice,  one  of  the 
numerous  beach  resorts  of  Los  Angeles 
county,  on  August  29th  to  31st.  The  initial 
effort  of  the  club  proved  a  success  both  in 


Bitches,  San  Mate 


A  Group  of  Bostons  and  Their  Fanciers.     Venice  Show. 


Russian  Wolfhound,  "Kubilek  II,"  Winner  1st,  Venice,  and  "Olga,"  His  Kennel  Mate. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


229 


number  of  entries  and  in  attendance.  This 
was  due  to  the  good  work  done  by  the 
officers  of  the  club  and  the  bench  show 
committee,  who  were  all  untiring  in  their 
efforts  to  make  the  show  one  of  the  best 
ever  held  in  the  southern  part  of  the  State. 
In  this  they  were  certainly  successful. 
There  were  even  200  dogs  entered,  and  with 
the  very  small  percentage  of  absentees — 
only  sixteen  in  number — there  were  184  dogs 
on  the  benches.  Like  at  all  the  recent 
shows  in  California  the  larger  breeds,  ex- 
cept collies,  were  conspicuous  by  their 
almost  total  absence;  there  being  but  three 
St.  Bernards,  'three  Great  Danes,  and  one 
Russian  wolfhound.  Of  the  sporting  dogs 
proper,  there  were  but  very  few.  The  show- 
ing of  field  dogs   in   California,  however,  has 


Champion  "Boylston  Prince  II,"  1st  Venice 

become  very  near  a  thing  of  the  past,  all  the 
result  of  the  employment  generally  of 
judges  with  no  practical  knowledge  of  the 
breed.  Pointers,  English  and  Irish  setters, 
had  but  seven  representatives  each,  a  poor 
showing  for  a  country  full  of  good  hunting 
dogs.  Boston  terriers  was  the  banner  entry 
of  the  show,  there  being  twenty-nine  of 
these  pert  little  fellows  to  enter  the  ring. 
Fox  terriers  of  the  two  varieties  were  next 
in  number  with  nineteen,  followed  closely 
with  collies  numbering  eighteen  and  bull 
dogs,  sixteen,  a  very  large  entry  for  that 
breed.  Bull  terriers  were  fairly  well  repre- 
sented by  ten  entries,  while  cockers,  usually 
numerous  at  all  California  shows,  only  num- 
bered eight.  The  rest  of  the  show  was  made 
up    of    the    smaller    pet    breeds    with    entries 


ranging  from  a  single  representative  to  five 
or  six  of  a  breed. 

The  judging,  which  gave  very  general 
satisfaction — as  is  usually  the  case  when  the 
awards  are  made  by  local  men — was  done 
by  the  following  gentlemen:  George  L. 
Waring,  collies,  bull  terriers,  greyhounds, 
foxhounds,  and  Scottish  terriers.  John  P. 
Brown,  pointers,  setters,  spaniels,  and 
dachshunds.  L.  W.  Young,  Boston  terriers, 
and  French  bull  dogs.  Irving  C.  Ackerman, 
all  other  breeds. 


A  NATIONAL  KENNEL  CLUB 

The  dictatorial  spirit  and  self-interest 
policy  of  the  close  corporation  of  dog  brokers, 
yclept  the  American  Kennel  Club,  has  at 
last  exhausted  the  patience  of  American  dog- 
dom.  A  movement  is  now  on  foot,  headed 
by  the  fanciers  of  the  West,  to  organize  a 
truly  National  Kennel  Club  as  the  central 
sun  around  which  the  kennel  interests  of 
America  shall  revolve.  The  new  organization 
is  to  be  all  for  the  dog;  something  really 
national  in  scope  and  national  in  character; 
something  the  so-called  American  Kennel 
Club  never  has  been,  or  ever  can  be  while 
run  as  a  close  corporation  by  professional  dog 
brokers,  professional  dog  judges  and  profes- 
sional dog  breeders.  During  the  last  twenty- 
five  years  this  little  coterie  of  professionals 
have  bled  the  fanciers  of  America  out  of  over 
a  quarter  of  a  million  of  dollars,  which  has 
been  absorbed  in  salaries  and  junketing  ex- 
penses of  themselves,  never  spending  one 
dollar  for  the  betterment  of  the  dog,  or 
giving  anything  back  to  the  fancy  except  a 
very   few   cheap   bronze  medals. 

Can  it  be  wondered,  then,  that  the  fancy 
h ,.s  grown  tired  of  this  constant  drain  with 
no  resulting  benefit,  and  is  at  last  deter- 
mined to  take  things  in  their  own  hands, 
ar  1  organize  what  shall  be  in  fact  a  com- 
monwealth organization  of  an  emphatic 
national  character. 

The  following  from  the  Kansas  City 
Kennel  Review  will  be  found  of  interest 
to  all  who  believe  in  a  national  organiza- 
tion to  oversee  the  kennel  interests  of 
America,  and  are  opposed  to  the  selfish 
dictation  of  a  few  dog  brokers  of  Xew 
York  City. 


-0 


WESTERN  III  l  D 


"To  tin  Editor:  There  are  many  rumors 
among  some  of  the  best  fanciers  about 
forming  a  National  Kennel  Club.  It  i> 
the  purpose  of  these  men,  who  have  tired 

of  the  ways  nl'  the  A.  K.  C.  to  have  a 
club    for    the    fancier   ami    the   dog,    They 

will  open  registration  books  and  will 
sanction  shows  under  their  rule--.  These 
fanciers  hope  to  have  the  support  of  many 
dissatisfied  fanciers  in  both  the  United 
States  and  Canada.  More  anon.  Those 
interested   in   the   perfecting  of  the  new  club 

are  asked  to  address  Mr.   Frank  Buchanan, 
No.  152  South  Main  street.  .Memphis.  Tcnn. 
FAIR   PLAY. 

(The  above  has  been  received  from  a 
well  known  Southern  Collie  breeder  and  is 
but  one  of  many  similar  communications 
we  have  received  on  the  subject.  Since 
Eastern  breeders  appear  to  be  sleeping  it 
looks  as  if  it  would  be  up  to  our  hustling 
Westerners  to  get  busy  and  launch  a  new 
club  that  is  all  for  the  dog.  and  just  as 
sure  as  the  sun  will  rise  tomorrow  morning, 
just  that  sure  will  these  Western  men  or- 
ganize this  new  club,  and  they  will  not  be 
put  out  of  business  by  the  "trust"  either. 
Are  you  with  this  movement  or  are  you 
satisfied  with  the  old  regime?  Don't  hesi- 
tate— act  now. — Editor.)" 


AN  ENGLISH  SETTER  CLUB 

A  MOVEMENT  has  been  started  by  a  number  of 
the  English  setter  fanciers  of  San  Francisco 
and  vicinity,  for  the  organization  of  an  English 
Setter  Club.  The  object  of  the  proposed  club  is  the 
improvement  of  the  bieed,  and  ultimately  to  hold 
shows  where  these  dogs  can  be  judged  by  men  with 
a  proper  knowledge  of  the  true  English  setter  type. 
There  is  a  wide  field  for  such  a  club,  and  if  con- 
ducted on  the  right  lines  it  can  accomplish  a  world 
of  good.  As  I  have  repeatedly  said  in  these  columns, 
silly  fads  on  the  part  of  the  field  trial  men,  and 
bad  judging  in  the  show  ring  have  destroyed  the 
beauty  of  the  English  setter,  and  robbed  him  of 
many  of  his  best  characteristics  as  a  shooting  com- 
panion. These,  it  is  the  belief  of  the  gentlemen 
engaged  in  the  new  movement,  can  be  recovered  by 
proper  breeding,  and  it  is  for  the  purpose  of  en- 
couraging this  breeding  along  the  right  lines  that  the 
new  club  is  to  be  formed.  Success  to  the  enterpris- 
ing  gentlemen   engaged   in  the  movement. 


FIELD  TRIAL  RECORDS 

THE    new    book,    or    rather   second    volume    of    Major 
Taylor's    "Field   Trial    Records/'    has    just    been 
issued    from  the  picss  of   Nicholson  Printing  Co., 
..f    Pittsburg,    Pa.      This    new    book    contains    a    com- 
plete   list    of    all    the    field    trial    winners    of    America, 
together  with   their  breeding,   handler,   owner,  etc.      It 

th ntains    a    complete    list    of    the    sires    and    dams 

ot"  all  field  trial  winners  together  with  the  performance 
of  the  progeny  of  each.  To  the  lover  of  field  trials 
or  the  Student  of  the  setter  or  pointer  the  new  book 
is  invaluable. 

If   reports  are  correct  Tacoma  will  hold  a  dog  show 
this    fall.      It    is    a    good    while    since    Tacoma    held    a 
show,    but   at   one   time  it    was  an   important    factor 
the  northwestern  circuit. 

The  fad  for  the  long,  low,  and  light  weight  in 
cockers  that  came  into  existence  a  few  years  ago,  has 
reached  its  height  and  is  now  on  the  ebb.  Like  every 
foolish  fad,  encouraged  by  pliable  judges,  this  for  the 
long  and  low  duck-legged  cocker  has  left  its  damning 
mark  on  the  breed.  Now,  the  true  friends  of  this 
bright  little  dog  are  actively  at  work  trying  to  undo 
the  damage  wrought  by  this  silly  fad.  They  have  a 
job  on  their  hands  that  will  take  years  of  hard, 
earnest  work  to  accomplish,  and  all  the  result  of 
action,  when  prompt  action  was  imperative.  They 
have  one  consolation,  however, — that  they  are  not 
the  only  fanciers  who  nave  stood  idly  by  and  let  a 
breed  be  spoiled  when  a  little  resolution  used 
plucking  out  the  blighting  weed  of  fadism  at  the  be- 
ginning of  its  germinature  would  have  saved  years  of 
sadder  labor. 

THE  next  Coast  dog  show  will  be  held  at  Stockton 
on  October  14,  15  and  16.  With  the  recent 
success  of  the  Venice  and  San  Mateo  shows  it 
begins  to  look  as  if  fall  shows  in  California  are  the 
ones  that  draw  the  entries.  Stockton  is  a  good  show 
point  and  no  doubt  will  receive  a  most  liberal  pat- 
ronage from  the  fancy  of  the  State.  The  gentlemen 
in  charge  are  untiring  in  their  efforts  to  make  this 
show  one  of  the  very  best  ever  held  in  the  State  out- 
side of  San  Francisco.  Already  the  list  of  specials 
has  assumed  grand  proportions  and  is  still  growing. 
At  Burlingame  during  the  San  Mateo  show  the  air 
was  full  of  Stockton  talk.  Everybody  it  seemed  was 
going,  and  all  the  best  dogs  were  to  be  entered;  many 
of  those  defeated  under  the  San  Mateo  judges  ex- 
pecting to  turn  the  table  on  their  competitors  at 
Stockton.  At  any  rate.  Stock:  on  will  have  a  good 
entry  and  a  fine  show. 

MR.  GEO.  M.  COOK,  well  and  favorably  known 
to  the  sportsmen  of  the  central  part  of  the 
State,  has  located  at  Healdsburg  and 
tends  to  take  a  small  string  of  dogs  to  break  for 
upland  or  marsh  shooting.  Mr.  Cook  has  the  right 
ideas  about  breaking  young  dogs,  and  is  withal 
a  careful  handler.  Those  who  entrust  the  educa- 
tion of  their  young  dogs  to  Geo.  Cook  may  rest 
assured  that  when  he  is  through  with  them  the 
puppies  will  know  what  they  are  turned  down  for, 
do  their  work  cheerfully,  and  be  obedient  to 
commands. 


ADVERTISEMEXTS 


TradeTopics 


D 


A   NEW    SIGHT 

D  you  ever  make  a  quick  shot  at  a 
jumped  suddenlv  at  close  range  ?  Missed 
clean!     Why?    Cut   off  too  much   bead 


ill     not     do 


ith 


Stanbr 


It    el 

any 


block  are  made  of  steel  and  in 
bead  is  of  gold  and  is  attached 
r  that  it  is  impossible  to  break 
in  ad.  which  are  exact  size, 
ot  designed  for  target  work,  but 
hunting  sight  where  very  quick 
ary.  The  broad  block 
he  game  when  the  sight  is  held  too  high, 
nates  the  high  shots  and  when  used  with 
of    the    rear    combination    peep    sights 


:    piece. 

such    a    manner 

aff.      See   cuts   ir 

This    sight    is    no 

intended    for    a 

and    accurate    work 


sight,  makes 
sight  on  the 
mce  that  the 
very  libe 
be  to  th« 
to    put 


best, 
narket. 
retail  price 
il  discount 
interest  of 
n    a    stock 


Daniel's     new     concentric 

quickest  and  most  accurate 
The  manufacturers  annou 
i  $1.50  while  to  the  trade 
'ill    be    given    so    that    it    w 

all     dealers     in     sporting     go 

and    push    them. 

This  new  sight  is  a  great  boon  to  the  sportsman 
ho  wishes  to  keep  abreast  of  the  times  and  get 
is  share  of  the  game.  As  game  gets  more  wary 
nd  the  season  is  made  shorter  it  is  very  necessary 
)  get  every  appliance  to  make  a  fair  showing, 
his  sight  is  for  a  front  sight  what  Lyman's  com- 
ination  was  for  a  rear  sight  and  we  predict  for 
as  great  a  sale.  Mention  Western  Field  and 
•rite    for    a    supply. 

STEVENS'  CATALOG 

THE     Stevens    Arms    and    Tool    Co.,    of    Chicopee 
Falls,     Massachusetts,     has     recently     issued     an 
extremely     handsome     catalog     of     the     popular 
shotguns    manufactured   by    that    firm.      To    begii 


catalog 
s    beautifully 
of    all    the    variov 

factory,     and 
a    sportsman    can 


high  order, 
cecuted  in  colors,  with  half-tones 
patterns  of  guns  turned  out  of 
fully  describing  every  particular 
ant  to  know  about  these  guns. 
Company  calls  special  attention  to  a  new  ham- 
merless,  known  as  No.  325  and  fully  described  in 
the  catalog.  This  gun  is  constructed  on  lines  similar 
heir  No.  225  Double  Barrel  Hammer  Gun, 
nuch  as  it  also  embodies  in  principle,  the  cele- 
brated check-hook,  which  has  proven  a  positive  suc- 
cess during  the  past  season.  The  action  is  of  the 
Anson  &  Deeley  type  and  made  in  as  simple  a  way 
possible,  with  an  independent,  automatic  safety 
and  case-hardened  frame.  The  gun  has  a  double 
bolt — one  in  the  through-lump  and  one  in  the  ex- 
on  rib — and  these  two  fastenings,  together  with 
check-hook,  make  this  model  one  of  the  best 
of  its  kind  on  the  market  at  the  price.  The  barrels 
are  of  especially  prepared  high  pressure  steel,  choke- 
bored  for  nitro  powder;  extension  matted  rib  with 
nforced  breech;  oiled.  English  walnut  stock,  pistol- 
grip  checked;  and  patent  snap  fore-arm  checked. 
Adapted  for  any  standard  make  of  ammunition  loaded 
with  either  black  or  smokeless  powders.  Made  in 
12-gauge.  with  28,  30  and  32-inch  barrels  and  16- 
gauge,  with  28  and  JO-inch  barrels.  Weight,  7%  to 
SI/2    pounds.     Price,    $20. 


W.&J.SLOANE&CO. 


Complete  stock 

CARPETS 
ORIENTAL  RUGS 
FURNITURE 
DRAPERIES,  Etc. 


Sutter    and    Van   Ness 


The  Best 

Champagne 

is  Veuve 
Clicquot 

Sec  and  Brut 


Cruse  and  Fils  Freres 

Red  and  White 

Wines 


Ami  Vignier 

Pacific  Coast  Agency 

Southeast  corner 
Battery  and  Broadway  Sts. 

San  Francisco,  Cal. 


When   Writing  Advertisers   Please   Mention   "WESTERN*    FIELD.' 


I  RA    I;IEI.D 


r 


Hi 


Now  Furnished 

with 

Automatic  Ejector 


Money  cannot  buy  nor  skill  make  a  better  gun 
than  the  A.  H.  Fox  Gun.  We  are  proud  of  it.  When 
\ve  started  in  business  our  aim  was  to  make  a  better  gun 
than  had  ever  been  made  before,  and  we  did  it.  We  employ 
the  most  skilled  workmen  it's  possible  to  hire,  and  pay  a  higher  scale  of 
wages  than  any  other  gun  factory.  We  get  in  return  a  higher  grade  of 
work.     Our  policy  is — "Quality  first ;  cost  afterwards." 

This  combination  of  finest  materials  and  best  workmanship,  with 
the  most  advanced  and  simplified  mechanical  principle,  is  what  makes  the 


A.H.Fox  Gun 


"The   Finest  Gun  in  the  World."     The   Fox  Gun   has  fewer  parts 

in  its  mechanism  than  any  other  double  hammerless  gun  made.  These 
parts  are  therefore  larger  and  stronger,  which  makes  it  impossible  to 
break  them,  or  for  the  gun  to  get  out  of  order.  This  gives  a  less  com 
plicated  action,  greater  simplicity,  added  strength  and  more  graceful  lines. 
It  also  enables  us  to  build  a  much  lighter  gun  without  sacrificing  the 
weight  in  the  barrels. 

The  Fox  Gun  is  doubly  inspected.  Each  part  receives  the  most 
exact  testing  and  gauging,  and  after  the  gun  is  assembled  it  is  finally 
tested  by  an  expert  trap  and  field  shooter. 

Every  Fox  Gun  is  absolutely  guaranteed.  Ask  your  dealer  to 
show  you  the  "Ansley  H.  Fox"  Gun. 

A.  H.  FOX  GUN  CO.,  4652  North  18th  Street,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 


When  Writing  Advertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD.' 


NOVEMBER,   1907         $1.50  the  year 


-  jw 


o  -c* 


Western  Agencies  &  Manufacturing  Co. 


A.  J.  BURTON,  MGR. 1 

Manufacturers  oj 

LEATHER     AND     CANVAS     SPORTING     GOODS. 

LEGGINS. 

BELTS.    TRAVELERS'    SAMPLE 

ROLLS. 

CASES,    AUTOMOBILE    TIRE 

COVERS.    ETC. 

Sole    Agents  for 

"FABRIKOID"      The  best  artificial 

leather  made. 

Successor  to  PEGAMOID. 

Phone  Market  2427 

Office  and  Factory 

1785  15th  Street  near  Guerrero 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA. 

LOADED  SHELLS 

CANNOT  BE  BEATEN  FOR  FIELD  OR  TRAP  SHOOTING 

They  are  strong,  sure-killing  loads — yet  do  not  "kick"  excessively. 

They  give  a  splendid  shot  pattern,  and  no  bird  can  ever  get  through  it. 

They  are  quick  as  lightning,  leave  the  gun  barrel  clean,  and  best  of  all  — 
every  shell  of  a  given  load  is  exactly  like  every  other — no  disconcerting  "punk" 
or  heavy  charges.     You.  can  depend  upon  them  absolutely. 


If  : 


-  cannot  supply 


THE  PETERS  CARTRIDGE  COMPANY 


CINCINNATI 


WESTERN  FIELD 


PUBLISHED  AT  GREATER  SAN  FRANCISCO    CALIFORNIA 


70L.  11  NOVEMBER,    1907  No.   4 

CONTENTS  OF  THIS    NUMBER 

Frontispiece — Thanksgiving  Dinner  (In  color). 

fhe  Kubaivat  of  Omar  the  Hum.;-   (Verse) Thomas   Maitland    Marshall 

II:.    (  ountry   of   Big   Bear. . , ..Henry  P.  Pullet, 

Sk    Fr. .ntiersman    (Verse) ■  -  •    ^'.'f!,'"'  Brumbaugh 

l-he   Angler    (Verse) Lulu    Whedon  Mitchell 

riie   Buffalo  and  Pat   Ryan -John    B.    Haas 

Mm    Shall   I   Read  Tonight'     (Verse) L„t,a  M,rr,elees 

'anvasback  '  om    '  e'tcli 

[•he  Lowland'  (Verse) Grace    G.    Crowell 

■dish   Sport— Part   IV.— With  the  Otter   Hounds •*■   Clapham 

girth's   Humbler   Ones   >    ,  ,  Alma    Mar,,,, 

(  \  erse -    I ,,a    /(  right  Hanson 

Moon  i  '  Mary    I'aughan 

south   Coast    Shooting— Part   X.— After   Wild   Cats ••..••    "Stillhunter 

I  Cruise  to  Drake's  Bav — ,/     ft   ij'V     l1  '* 

Wemher   (Verse)  Percy  M.  Cushwg 

Tb    "-t^-d  SttaP Pa-  C~    R     "      ShKffiii 

P-inoi  Lo--  H •--)"  II  alter  S~ctt  Haskell 

.    Fahles   (>'erse)'  '  Charles  E.   Jenney 

Dr.  the  Rodeo    (Verse) Sadie   Bowman   Metcalfe 

\niirrd   Courage Part   II  t •   "  •   Reu 

Alfalfa    (Verse)    '.'.'.'. .'.'.' >V^",M  }Vhedo"    W&f" 

That  Tenderfoot  Charlton   Lawrence  Edholtn 

Some  Baits  I  Have  Used -  -  •  -Harry  H.  U„„n 

Light-Tackle  Sea-Fishing    irthur  Jerome  Eddy 

The  Smell  of  the  Heather  (Verse) •  •  Maurtce    Smiley 

Av.av  from  the  Mart   (Cerse) Sam  Ext  on  Foulds 

Pheasant  Breeding   ;■  -Forrest  Cnssey 

Golf         I  i  Arthur  Inkersley 

■nnis     C    '       , 

The  Fashion    in   Dogs  I  )  H.  T.  Payne 

The  Campbell   Setters  I „_      .  _  < 

1 7— DEPARTMENTS— !  7 


LOOK!     LOOK!     LOOK! 


...WON  ... 

First 

Second 

Third 

Fifth 

Sixth 

Seventh 

at  the  first  tournament  of  the 

Pacific  Coast  Trap  Shooters'   League 

Held  at  Ingleside,  San  Francisco 

February  22,  23,  24,  1906 

with 

Selby  Shells 

Manufactured  by  the  Selby  Smelting  and  Lead  Co. 


WESTERS  FIELD 


Goldberg,  Bowen  &  Co, 


G 


rocers 


m 


FOUNDED 
.  .  .1850.  .  . 


FIFTY-SEVEN  YEARS  of  conscientious  attention 
to  the  demands  of  those  who  appreciate  good  goods  at  reasonable 
prices,  coupled  with  excellent  service,  three  daily  deliveries  and  the 
acme  of  perfetl  store  attention  are  the  reasons  why  we  to-day  enjoy 
and  ask    the    continued   patronage    of    the    San    Francisco    public 


PERMANENT  LOCATIONS 

1244  Van  ^SCess,   near  Sutter 

2829   California,   near    T)evisadero 

1 401   Haigbt,   comer  Jltasonic 

1 3th  and  Clay,    Oakland 


VENICE  OF  AMERICA 

FINEST  BEACH  RESORT  IN  THE  WORLD. 


-    ONLY  THIRTY   MINUTES  FROM    LOS  ANGELES 

Blessed  by  Nature,  but  Beautified  by  Man. 

The  good  ship  Cabrillo  and  Auditorium  newly  opened  under 
our    own    management.     Meals   a    la    carte    at    all  hours. 


Daily  Concerts  and  Dancing 


First -Class    accommodations    at    Hotel   Windward, 
also  villas  and  bungalows  TO  LET  REASONABLY 

200-yard  Rifle  Range.  Trap  Shooting  Grounds. 

Practice  Shooting  every  Sunday  under  the  auspices  of  Crescent  Bay  Gun  Club. 


When  Writing  Advertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD 


A  Thanksgiving  Dinner 


■ 


WESTERN    FIELD 


M 


IUNTER 
NX 

vv 


V 


m 


I  '  I 


ft  I    WESTERN    F  ELD      M 


PUBLISHED    AT    GREATER    SAN    FRANCISCO 


NOVEMBER,    1907 


No.   4 


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w 


Ah 


HEN    old    Boreas   opes 
And  tender  flow'rets  mourn 
When  Autumn  shivers  'mid  the 
then    'tis   time   to   take   your 


frosty    gate 

i  their  sorry  fate; 
rling  leaves, 
isky    straight. 


A  vaunt !    thou    poet,    with    thy    jug    of    wine, 

Thy   loaf  of  bread   grown  stale  and  song  of  vine; 

A    tent,    a    pot    of    coffee    on    the    fire, 
Some    bacon    and    a     flap-jack,    please,     for    mine. 

What    of   this    piping    of   the    potter's   clay? 

No    flagon    for    my    bones    when    through,    I    pray; 

Rather  into  clay  pipes  please  model  me 
And   warm    me    up   some    dozen    times   a   day. 

And    why    these   questions   of   the    now   and   then? 
Why   hash   thy   troubles   o'er   and   o'er   again? 

Come,    poet,    get    thy   gun    and   don    thy    boots — ■ 
A    rifle    is    far    mightier    than    the    pen. 

Place   in    thy   hunting   coat   thy   flask   of    rye; 
A   jolt   or   two  and   soon  thou  shalt   espy 

The  joy  of  living,  gamboling  'neath  the  trees, 
Nor    wilt    thou    ask    the    wherefore    nor    the    why. 

Thy    friendly    pipe    hold    close    between    thy    teeth, 
Joy    lingers    in    each    puff    and    snowy    wreath, 

Save    when    the    mixture    is    too    vile    a    brand. 
Grown    may  haps    on    the    Duke    of    Durham's    heath. 

Oh,    poet,    let    us    find    thy    wilderness 

Where   game   is   plenty,   and   there   is   no   press 

Of    many    Nimrods;    there    we'll    find    the    bliss 
Of    hungry    hunters    o'er    a    bounteous    mess. 

When    the    bright    firelight    gleahis    on    ghostly    trees. 
And    howls    of    night    things    all    thy    slumbers    tease, 

Content    thyself,    and    smoke    thy    evening    pipe, 
And   pass   the   flask,   and   let  thy  conscience  ease. 

— Thomas   Maitland   Marshall. 


I',\     I  I  l  \l;\     F,    PULLEN. 


1 1  E  Pacific  (  loasl  •  ountrj  between 
the  north  of  Vancouver  Island 
and  Alaska  is  essentially  a 
bear  country.  Everywhere  the 
hills  and  valleys  arc  wooded 
except  lure  and  there  where 
the  rocks  are  SO  hare  that  not 
even  a  cedar  or  hemlock  can 
take  root  Sometimi  s,  espei  ially 
of  late  years,  tin  carelessness  of 
a  white  camper  has  started  a  fire  which  lias 
burned  both  the  trees  and  the  thin  layer  of 
soil  which  filled  the  crevices  and  provided  the 
necessary  nourishment  for  them,  thus  leaving 
the   mountain   an   immense   bare   rock. 

There  are  plenty  of  deer  in  the  woods  as 
well  as  bear,  but  nobody  thinks  of  going  that 
far  to  shoot  deer.  There  are  plenty  of  black- 
tails  anywhere  along  the  coast.  On  Vancouver 
Island,  even  within  a  few  miles  of  the  city 
of  Victoria,  deer  are  so  plentiful  that  any 
hunter  who  can  shoot  and  who  has  any  knowl- 
edge of  woodcraft  can  bring  home  one  hundred 
pounds  of  venison  after  a  short  hunt.  The 
deer  are,  however;  useful  to  provide  food  for 
the  bear  hunter,  miner,  or  trapper  during  the 
winter  season  when  other  kinds  of  food  are 
scarce. 

It  is  customary  when  going  into  that  country 
to  try  for  a  grizzly,  to  engage  one  or  two  In- 
dians to  pole  up  the  rivers.  They  charge  all 
sorts  of  prices  for  this  service,  for  the  Indian 
is  never  a  cheap  man,  always  wanting  the 
highest  price  that  is  going.  When  they  think 
they  can  get  it  they  charge  five  dollars  a  day 
each  and  seventy-five  cents  a  day  for  the 
canoe.  Besides  this  they  will  ask  five  dollars 
.apiece  for  every  black  or  brown  bear  killed 
and  ten  dollars  for  each  grizzly.  It  is  not 
usually  necessary  to  pay  anything  like  that 
much,  though.  Some  Indians  will  do  the  same 
work  for  half  the  price  rather  than  miss  the 
job,  and  even  then  they  are  well  paid. 

The  better  way,  perhaps,  is  to  engage  a  white 
trapper  if  one  can  be  secured.  The  white  man 
is  more  sociable,  understands  the  habits  of  the 


game  just  as  well,  often  better,  bul  he  can  not 
use  a  pole  like  the  Indian  when  going  up  a 
river  against  a  swift  current. 

A  short  time  ago  in  a  newspaper  article  I 
advised  bunting  bear  in  the  autumn:  I  was 
soon  told  by  many  who  professed  to  know 
that  the  spring  was  the  best  season  for  the 
sport,  as  the  pelts  are  better  then  and  the  bears 
are  easier  to  kill.  The  pelts  arc  certainly  more 
woolly  and  the  hair  longer  in  the  spring,  and 
at  that  time  of  year  the  bear  are  out  on  the 
slides  just  below  the  snow  line ;  but  in  the 
autumn  about  the  end  of  October  the  hides 
are  pretty  good  and  the  bears  may  then  be 
shot  from  a  canoe  as  they  are  feeding  on  the 
salmon  that  have  gone  up  the  streams  to  spawn 
and  died  there.  That  is  the  only  way  in  which 
an  Indian  will  tackle  a  grizzly.  He  is  afraid  to 
go  very  near  him  on  land. 

Grizzlies  are  very  plentiful  everywhere,  but 
their  pelts  are  not  anything  like  as  good  as 
those  of  the  interior.  They  are  very  large  and 
have  fine  heads  but  the  rugs  are  not  thick. 
There  are  also  a  few  of  the  inland  white 
bears  ( Ursus  kermodei )  but  curiously  enough 
they  are  usually  found  on  the  small  islands 
along  the  coast.  A  short  time  ago  one  was 
found  on  Gribble  Island  and  the  skin  is  now 
in  the  possession  of  Mr.  Francis  Kermode, 
curator  of  the  Victoria  museum.  The  bear  is 
rather  smaller  than  the  black  bear  and  of  a 
creamy  white  color.  There  are  already  four 
specimens  mounted  in  the  Victoria  museum. 

An  illustration  of  the  kind  of  story  one 
hears  in  travelling  along  the  coast  is  that  of  a 
young  Englishman  who  had  been  some  time  in 
the  country  and  was  a  pretty  good  shot,  but 
who  so  far  had  failed  to  kill  one  of  the  big 
grizzlies.  He  wanted  to  take  a  pelt  home  with 
him  to  show  the  people  back  there  the  kind  of 
game  that  is  found  in  the  country.  He  was  ' 
working,  or  supposed  to  be  working,  in  a 
lumber  camp.  None  of  his  fellows  would  leave 
their  work  to  go  with  him  on  the  morning  in 
question,  so  he  shouldered  his  "thirty-thirty" 
and  climbed  the  mountain  back  of  the   camp. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


237 


Falls  on  the  Crab  River,  Gardner's  Inlet 


238 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Looking   Up  Gardner's  Canal 


When  near  the  top  he  came  out  on  to  a  swamp, 
and  there  right  in  front  of  him  were  six  big 
grizzlies,   enough   surely  for  one  hunt. 

Six  grizzlies  to  one  man  seemed  hardly  a 
fair  contest,  but  he  had  come  out  for  bear  and 
here  they  were.  It  would  be  poor  sportsman- 
ship to  return  home  to  camp  without  so  much 
as  a  shot.  Steadying  himself  for  a  few  min- 
utes to  get  his  nerves  under  control,,  he  took 
steady  aim  and  the  first  and  biggest  of  the 
bunch  fell  with  a  bullet  through  his  brain. 
The  other  five  charged  and  now  was  the  time 
the  nerve  was  needed.  One  after  another  the 
big  fellows  were  dropped  and  the  last  one  fell 
when  only  five  yards  distant  from  the  man. 

He  then  went  to  his  fellow  workmen  to  help 
get  the  bears  to  camp.  They  would  not  believe 
his  story  until  they  saw  the  half  dozen  car- 
casses. Then  they  Voted  him  a  good  fellow 
and  the  king  of  trumps. 

Every  year  during  July  and  August  a  large 
number  of  the  Indian  tribes  go  away  to  Rivers 
Inlet  or  one  of  the  other  fishing  grounds  to 
fish  and  work  in  the  canneries.  At  some  of  the 
villages  they  leave  en  masse  and  nothing  is  left 
but  the  dogs.  These  are  left  to  look  after 
themselves  for  the  two  months.  They  now 
and  then  catch  a  small  animal  or  bird,  enough 
to  keep  them  alive,  but  they  become  very  thin 
and  emaciated.  At  one  village  that  I  visited 
last  July  at  the  mouth  of  the  Kemano  River, 
ten  dogs  came  out  to  meet  me.     They  were 


thin  and  hungry  and  gave  every  expression  of 
delight  at  the  approach  of  the  boat.  Evidently 
they  had  been  out  porcupine  hunting,  for  one, 
a  half-bred  bull  dog.  had  his  nose  stuck  full  of 
quills.  The  poor  creature  would  not  let  us 
pull  them  out  so  the  only  alternative  was  to 
put  him  out  of  his  misery.  He  must  have  died 
anyway  before  the  return  of  the  Indians,  so  my 
companion  brained  him  with  a  blow  of  the 
axe.  Only  one  of  the  other  dogs  had  quills  in 
his  nose  and  that  one  had  but  two.  The  brave 
English  dog  had  killed  the  game  and  taken 
the  punishment  while  the  others  shared  the 
feast. 

The  only  game  birds  that  I  saw  up  there 
were  a  few  grouse,  several  varieties  of  ducks, 
and  a  few  geese.  Guillemots  and  grebes  are 
very  common  in  the  water,  especially  the 
former.  Overhead  the  bald  eagle  is  very  much 
in  evidence.  Sometimes  he  is  seen  perching  in 
a  lofty  spruce  or  hemlock  near  the  water's 
edge  accompanied  by  his  mate  or  he  is  soaring 
in  search  of  food.  The  nests  are  usually  in 
the  tops  of  tall  and  inaccessible  trees  close  to 
the  water.  Sometimes  two  nests  were  seen 
close  together  but  one  may  have  been  an  old 
one.  There  did  not  seem  to  be  any  ospreys  up 
there  so  the  eagles  are  compelled  to  catch  their 
own  food. 

The  commonest  of  all  the  small  birds  was 
the  little  northern  wren  which  seemed  to  be 
everywhere.      No    matter    if   it    was    morning, 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


239 


noon,  or  night,  we  had  never  been  ashore  more 
than  five  minutes  before  we  were  greeted  by 
this  cheery  little  songster  who  with  both  head 
and  tail  erect  poured  forth  with  all  his  might 
the  song  of  welcome.  This  wren  seems  to 
never  tire  of  singing.  Whether  he  sings  all 
the  time  I  cannot  say,  but  he  always  sings 
when  anyone  is  around.  The  other  birds  in 
evidence  were  the  water  ousels,  Alaska  yel- 
low warblers,  humming  birds,  a  few  crows, 
and  the  everpresent  ravens  that  croaked 
around  the  camp  mornings  and  evenings. 
Once,  too,  I  saw  a  large  pine  grosbeak. 

As  one  passes  over  the  beaches  in  that  part 
of  the  country  there  is  no  scrambling  be- 
neath the  rocks  by  the  noisy  crabs.  There 
seemed  to  be  none  of  these  creatures  there  and 
only  once  I  noticed  a  starfish.  Probably  the 
water  is  too  cold  for  them.  There  were  plenty 
of  barnacles  below  tide  water,  just  as  there 
are  to  the  south. 

The  timber  of  the  country  is  mostly  cedar, 
hemlock,  spruce,  and  a  few  firs,  but  the  most 
striking  plant  to  anyone  who  essays  to  find  a 
new   trail   through   the   woods   is   the   "devil's 


club."  Both  leaves  and  branches  of  this  shrub 
are  covered  with  prickles  that  pierce  the  skin 
and  remain  in  the  flesh.  They  do  not  feel 
very  painful  until  the  day  after  the  battle. 
Then  the  poison  has  done  its  work  and  the 
person  who  has  fought  with  them  is  glad  to  sit 
down  and  extract  the  thorns.  It  is  not  an 
uncommon  thing  when  climbing  through  the 
woods  to  begin  to  slide  down  a  hillside  or  into 
a  creek.  There  is  a  bough  within  reach  with 
which  to  save  oneself.  The  first  time  the 
climber  seizes  the  bough  and  then  swears.  On 
the  next  occasion  he  slides  downward  instead 
and  takes  his  chances  of  breaking  his  neck. 
The  latter  is  preferable  to  tackling  a  devil's 
club. 

Throughout  all  this  country  there  is  no 
spot  that  compares  for  picturesque  scenery 
with  Gardner's  canal,  an  inlet  which  runs  forty 
miles  between  snow-capped  mountains  yet  is 
seldom  more  than  two  miles  in  width,  often 
not  more  than  half  that  distance.  Cataracts 
and  cascades  vie  with  each  other  for  beauty 
and  grandeur.  Some  of  them  fall  hundreds  of 
feet  from   the   foot  of  ghostly  glaciers,   while 


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Montezuma  Creek,   Gribble   Island 


240 


II  I  STERh   FIE1  D 


others  msli  between  the  rugged  sides  oi 

with  the  roar  of  thunder  as  irresistible 
as  the  coming  of  night.  The  time  will  come 
when   tourists  will  visii  this  favored  spot  by 

the  hundred.  It  will  always  he  a  wild  place, 
for  there  is  nothing  there  to  attract  the  specu- 
lator, except  perchance  there  lie  precious  metal 
in  the  rocks.  A  thousand  feet  and  more  above 
the  sea  the  goats  browse  on  the  mountain 
crags,   safe   because   of   the   inaccessibility   of 

their   retreat. 


The  person  who  would  really  enjoy  this 
country  must  leave  the  route  of  the  steamers, 
and  with  a  launch  or  sloop,  and  a  guide  who 
knows  the  country,  take  his  time  meandering 
among  the  inlets  and  rivers.  Everywhere  he 
will  find  something  new  and  delightful.  The 
mineral  springs  which  abound  (having  an 
average  temperature  of  120  degrees),  the  scen- 
ery, the  natives,  the  animal  and  bird  life,  all 
are  delightful  and  novel  to  the  city  dweller  of 
the  south. 


Indian   Shack 


THE  FRONTIERSMAN 

E    KNOWS   the    fresh,    unbroken 
;    deadly    forest    creatures 
His    hands    are    rough    with    patient    to 
His   constant    friends   the   wind   and 

Though   all   the    forces   of   the   earth 
Give    battle    for    the    right    of    way. 

He   claims   the   rich   land   of   his   birth. 
And   tights   to   win   it   day  by   day. 

No    hero    quite    so    fine    as    he 

Within  the  leaves  that  thousands  tu 

His    daily    life    is    bravery. 

Which  we  have  found  it  hard  to  1 

But   where  the  wildest   storm-win 
The  lovelorn  veeries  call  and  call; 

And    through    the    open    cabin    door 
He   hears   the   sweetest    song   of   all 
— Roscoe  Bru 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


241 


THE  ANGLER 


THE  sky  is  overcast,  a  soft  wind  blow 
'  The  bright  faced  cowslip  lights  the  m; 
The  Mayflies  skim  the  stream  that  wil 
Beside    the   bittern's   rough   nest    in   the   s 


:dge. 


\\  iih    all    youth's   ardor,    all  man's    practised    ar 

He    throws    the    supple    line  aslant    the    brook, 

Where    'neath    the    drooping  alders,    in    the    coo 

Translucent     shadows    of    a  silent    nook, 


With  rod  and  creel  the  fisher  takes  his  way, 
Beyond    the   smoke   and   noises   of  the   town. 
None    plumb    so    deep    as    he    the    joys    of    earth, 
Strolling  the  banks   until  the  sun   goes   down. 


Lurks    the    sleek,    spotted    beauty    of    his    i 
Shyest    and    wisest    of    the    finny    host; 
Sharp-eyed,    suspicious,    wary    and    alert — ■ 
A    prize    full    worthy    of   an    Angler's    boast. 


Between    those    reedy    banks    with    flags    beset, 
The    twisting    waters    slide    toward    the    sea — ■ 
Each    flashing    wave    with    iris    gleams    alight. 
And    dancing    to    its    own    blithe    melody. 


By    many    a    patient    wile    he    fills    his    creel. 
And    with    the    waning     light     goes    whistling     hoi 
Watching    the    birds    fly    up    and    darkling    wheel, 
Breathing    the    odors    of    the    new-turned    loam. 


The    poetry    of    Spring    is    in    his    heart. 
It    beats    with    fresh    delight    and    careless    mirth, 
Of    all    the    heirs    of    Nature,    gay    and    free. 
None    plumb    so    deep    as    he    the    joys    of    earth. 

— Lulu   Whedon  Mitchell. 


By  Job  n  B,  Haas 


NE  of  our  companions  on  the 
plains,  Pat  Ryan,  as  good  a 
man  as  ever  shouted  "Wo- 
haw!"  to  a  contrary  team  of 
oxen,  was  forever  getting  into 
scrapes  and  ever  getting  out 
of  them,  although  sometimes 
by  a  mere  scratch.  Listen  to 
reason?  He  just  would  not; 
and  was  never  happier  than 
when  he  could  force  any  one  into  an  argu- 
ment. At  first  the  boys  would  argue  with 
him  and  strive  to  convince  him,  but  as 
Pat  never  tired,  and  would  never  give  in 
that  he  was  wrong,  they  soon  quit  on  that 
line.  They  were  actually  afraid  of  his 
arguing  forever  and  would  say  "Yes"  to 
every  one  of  his  assertions,  were  they  ever 
so   preposterous. 

That  was  not  what  he  wanted  and  he 
would  turn  away,  grumbling  and  saying: 
"Faith !  What  can  ye  expect  of  men  who 
have  never  been  away  from  the  Mississippi 
bottoms?" 

We  had  camped  pretty  early  one  day 
near  the  bluffs  on  the  South  Platte.  Ex- 
perience had  taught  us  not  to  camp  near 
the  river,  although  it  forced  us  to  carry 
water  a  longer  distance.  The  mosquitoes 
and  gnats  were  terrible  bad  on  the  river 
bottom,  even  in  day  time.  We  were  often 
compelled  to  make  smudges  (smoke  with 
buffalo  chips)  around  the  camp  to  protect 
ourselves.  They  were  the  bloodthirstiest 
insects  we  had  ever  encountered.  They 
even  attacked  the  cattle,  so  that  the  poor 
brutes  quit  grazing  and  run  around  almost 
frantic.  As  soon  as  we  had  lighted  the 
smudges,  they  crowded  one  another  to  gut 
to  stand  in  the  smoke  for  relief.  Higher 
up,  near  the  bluffs,  these  plagues  were 
not  nearly  so  bad.  One  would  wonder  how 
they  could  sting  through  an  ox's  thick 
hide.      When    we    went    down    to    the    river 


[or  water  we  were  sure  to  tie  handkerchiefs 
over  our  faces. 

We  never  felt  lonesome.  There  was  a 
great  emigration  to  California  in  1853.  It 
was  no  uncommon  sight  to  behold  strings 
of  canvas-covered  wagons — ox  and  horse 
teams — on  both  sides  of  the  Platte,  all 
going  towards  the  setting  sun;  so  many  in- 
deed, that  a  man  on  horseback  could  have 
camped  every  night  with  a  different  train. 
It  was  a  common  occurrence  for  small 
trains  to  camp  near  each  other,  especially 
where  the  feed  was  good. 

One  evening  a  train  of  three  horse  teams 
camped  about  two  hundred  yards  from  us. 
It  was  Pat's  and  my  turn  to  go  down 
to  the  river  for  water,  each  of  us  carrying 
two  tin  buckets.  There  was  not  a  tree 
or  bush  in  sight.  Bluegrass,  a  splendid 
meadow  of  it,  clean  down  to  the  river  bank. 
We  had  climbed  down  the  steep  bank  and 
filled  our  buckets,  Pat  getting  up  on  top 
again  first. 

"Holy  Moses!"  Pat  exclaimed.  "What 
a  beast!     Sure  it's  a  grizzly!" 

"Pat  had  heard  of  grizzlies.  They  were 
fresh  in  his  memory,  as  Nason  had  related 
a  heartrending  story  the  evening  before 
at  the  campfire,  especially  for  his  benefit. 
I  climbed  u,p  on  the  bank.  '  "That's  a 
buffalo,  Pat !  There're  no  grizzlies  here." 
I  told  him.  The  buffalo  was  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  river,  quietly  feed- 
ing. For  once  Pat  was  too  excited  to 
argue. 

"If  I  only  had  me  gun!  he  exclaimed. 
"Let's  hurry  and  get  to  camp."  ■ 

•Hurry !  With  two  buckets  of  water ! 
Pretty  hard  to  do,  and  I  took  my  time. 
But  Pat  wouldn't.  He  carried  his  buckets 
a  step  or  two  further.  "Oh,  go  on,  they 
want  die  water  for  supper;  that  buffalo 
is  there  yet."  I  said,  as  I  saw  him  looking 
over   his   shoulder.      Without   another  word 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


243 


Pal  set  down  the  buckets  and  started  on 
a  dead  run  for  camp. 

I  met  him  coming  back,  armed  with  one 
of  those  old  army  guns  that  used  to  he 
called  "Mississippi  Yagers,"  and  whose 
regular  charge  was  a  ball  and  three  buck- 
shot. 

"Faith,  and  I  will  have  that  buffalo,"  he 
said    as    he   hurried    past. 

"Going  afoot,"  I  asked.  "Why  didn't 
you  mount  one  of  the  ponies?" 

"The  devil  a  one  in  camp!"  he  shouted 
back   to   me. 

When  I  got  into  camp  all  hands  were 
standing  on  the  wagon  wheels  watching 
him  going  for  the  buffalo,  and  so  were 
the  men  of  the  horse  train.  On  he  went, 
never  hesitating  or  faltering  until  he  got 
within  the  distance  he  called  "handy." 

The  buffalo  was  quietly  feeding,  never 
suspecting  that  danger  in  the  shape  of  a 
wild  Irishman  and  a  Mississippi  Yager 
was  threatening  him,  as  the  wind  was  blow- 
ing toward   Pat. 

We  saw  Pat  halt  and  take  aim.  A  puff 
of  smoke  and  a  faint  report  assured  us 
that   he   had    fired.      He   was   cocksure   that 


the  buffalo  would  fall  and  stood  there  wait- 
ing for  it.  But  the  animal  had  no  notion 
of  doing  go.  but  instead,  had  raised  its 
head,  saw  the  smoke  and  made  a  guess 
that  the  pain  in  the  fleshy  part  of  the 
shoulder  was  caused  by  that  queer-looking 
animal  on  two  legs  standing  there  staring 
at  it.  If  the  old  bull,  who  may  have  been 
worsted  in  a  battle  with  one  stronger  than 
he  and  driven  from  the  herd,  had  ever 
seen  a  man  before — white  or  Indian — that 
man  was  horseback,  and  then  it  was  good 
buffalo  policy  to  get  away.  But — run 
from  that  thing  on  two  legs?  Nary  time. 
Maddened  with  pain  the  buffalo  made  for 
Pat,  and  the  latter  took  in  the  situation 
at  a  glance  and.  thought  he  didn't  want  to 
wait  longer.  Dropping  his  gun  Pat  ran, 
and  it  was  one  of  the  most  exciting  races 
we  ever  beheld.  Pat  made  for  camp  and 
so  did  the  bull,  but  Pat  beat  him,  for  men 
from  both  camps  started  out  and  pestered 
the  buffalo  by  shooting  at  him — just  shoot- 
ing at  him,  for  apparently  not  one  of  them 
hit  him  and  he  made  his  escape  by  running 
to  the  bluffs  between  the  two  camps.  Pat 
would    never    argue    about    that    buffalo. 


(T 


^ 


^ 


WHAT  SHALL  I  READ  TONIGHT? 


WHAA 


HAT  shall   I   read  tonight, 
I    scan    my    bookcase 


A  sonnet,  a   lay   or  a   rondeau   light 
Or    a    scrap    of    old    folk-lore  ? 


Blackstone  i 
Consorting  i 
But  neither 
That  a  list! 
Across  from 
Half  hid  in 
Are   Ibsen  a 


;   up    on    the    shelf 
,-ith    Huffcutt    lean. 


fancy 


the    changing    light 
rid   Shaw  and  the  great   Molii 


they    hold   my    fancy    tonight? 


Back    to    the    pine- wood    forest- 
There's 


ere   it 

With  only  the  drip  of  the 
Or  the  needles  that  und( 
And  the  woodpecker's  qu 
On    some   once    lonely    tre 


•ozing  sap 
my    footfall    snap 


What    shall    I    read    tonight? 
Ah  J      I   turn    from   my   bookish 
From  sonnet,  from  lay  and  froi 
To  dream  of  the  woods  once  r 
— Luc 


J* 


CANVASBACK 


By  Tom   Veitch 


HEN  the  leaden  clouds  and  the 
sweeping,  swishing  rainstorms 
of  our  late  fall  have  taken  the 
place  of  the  golden  sunshine  and 
azure  skies  of  early  September ; 
when  the  browns  and  golds  of 
the  once-flaming  woods  are 
deadening  to  dull  grays ;  when 
the  parched  land  has  had  its  fill 
of  moisture  and  the  great  rivers 
are  slowly  rising,  and  shallow  ponds  are  form- 
ing in  all  the  depressions  and  rough  gullies  of 
the  lowlands ;  then  it  is  that  a  few  lordly  can- 
vasback,  the  forerunners  of  the  hosts  to  come, 
begin  to  make  their  appearance  on  our  reed- 
fringed  ponds  and  broad  bays,  and  in  our 
winding  sloughs.  Hundreds  of  miles  from  the 
far  north  they  come,  swinging  southward 
away  from  the  white  winter  in  increasing 
numbers  day  by  day,  to  spend  the  stormy 
days  and  months  with  thousands  of  their  web- 
footed  brethren  along  our  shores  and  in  our 
broad  marshes.  Every  day  of  the  advancing 
rainy  season  finds  more  of  them  with  us,  until 
when  two  weeks  of  our  calendar  winter  have 
passed  they  form  the  majority  of  the  birds  in 
many  portions  of  our  state  where  aquatic 
feathered  folk  congregate. 

Most  of  the  ducks  we  are  familiar  with — 
widgeon,  teal,  golden-eye,  blue-bill,  gadwall, 
mallard,  sprigtail  and  spoonbill — precede  the 
canvasback  in  our  marshes  and  markets;  but 
when  the  sportsmen's  straploads  begin  to  show 
here  and  there  the  white  back  or  red  head  of  a 
great  drake  "can",  a  commotion  starts  that 
runs  through  the  entire  ducking  fraternity — 
from  the  man  who  shoots  from  his  com- 
fortable blind  over  decoys  on  a  baited,  private 
pond,  to  the  fellow  who  braves  a  wetting  on 
a  tossing,  wind-swept  bay  in  a  small  skiff  for 
a  chance  to  scull  within  gunshot  of  a  dozen 
birds.  For,  although  our  coast  canvasback  are 
not  up  to  the  table  standard  set  by  their  val- 
lisneria-fed  brethren  of  the  Chesapeake,  they 
are  still  highly  edible,  except  when  they  have 
been  living  on  a  shellfish  diet  in  shallow  bay 
waters  for  some  weeks ;  further,  they  are  the 
largest  and  mast   imposing  of  all  our  ducks, 


and  the  man  who  kills  a  string  of  canvasback 
ducks  gets  a  much  wider  hearing  than  he  who 
only  brings  home  ducks.  Not  necessarily 
among  old  sportsmen  who  know  the  true  value 
of  every  game  bird,  as  such,  but  among  those 
who  judge  the  wiliness  of  a  bird  by  its  price 
on  a  menu. 

The  old  sportsmen  would  only  give  him 
half  the  credit  for  a  string  of  canvasback  that 
they  would  give  him  for  the  same  number  of 
little  teal  or  bright  mallard.  For  the  can- 
vasback is  often  a  foolish  bird,  and  when  a 
gunner  is  once  in  the  line  of  a  flight  it  is  no 
trick  for  him  to  bag  the  large  birds  in  num- 
bers. They  decoy  perhaps  more  readily  than 
any  other  duck,  and  when  their  attention  is 
once  fixed  on  the  lures  it  takes  a  marked  lack 
of  caution  to  drive  them  out  of  shot.  In  fact, 
over  a  baited  pond  when  an  evening  flight  was- 
on  I  have  kneeled  in  open  sight  of  my  decoys, 
some  twenty  yards  from  them,  and  killed  bird 
after  bird.  And  I  have  seen  several  of  the  un- 
hit  birds  of  a  flock  which  has  pitched  to  the 
decoys  and  been  shot  at,  settle  in  the  water 
with  a  surprised  air  long  enough  to  give  one 
who  was  so  inclined  an  opportunity  to  shoot 
them  on  the  sit.  Not  once  have  I  seen  this, 
but  several  times.  And  I  have  seen  a  man 
with  a  small  bore  rifle  kill  almost  an  entire 
small  flock  of  feeding  canvasbacks  without  a 
single  bird  taking  alarm.  He  simply  waited 
for  them  to  dive  and  the  last  bird  to  decide  to 
go  in  search  of  a  meal  found  himself  suddenly 
in  no  need  of  one.  But  when  I  say  that  a  can- 
vasback is  a  fool  I  only  mean  comparatively — 
he  learns  in  time  to  care  for  himself  and  when 
he  does  learn  somebody  else  plays  the  fool. 
But  the  great  majority  still  know  nothing. 

I  thoroughly  enjoy  canvasback  shooting,  be- 
cause when  my  strap  is  filled  I  have  a  bunch 
of  the  most  sought  after  game  birds  of  our 
coast — and  then  maybe  because  the  canvas- 
back is  not  the  hardest  bird  in  the  world  to 
hunt.  I  honestly  admit  that  an  all-day  tramp 
for  two  quail,  or  a  seven-hour  hunt  for  a 
jacksnipe  does  not  particularly  appeal  to  me. 
I  am   somewhat  of  a  depraved   creature   who 


246 


WESTERN  111  I  n 


fu1    n   nit.    obtained    in   a 
legal  manner. 

I  like  i"  once  or  twice  during  the 
obtain  a  limit  bag  of  birds.  I  can  rcmembi  r 
distinctly  the  shortest  time  it  took  me  to  kill 
my  limit,  then  fifty,  of  canvasbacks.  It  was 
on  a  private  preserve  in  southern  Sonoma 
County,  a  great  wheat  ranch  of  some  four 
thousand  acres  of  reclaimed  land,  surrounded 
and  traversed  by  tule-fringed  sloughs.  One  of 
these,  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  in  length, 
which  ran  across  the  ranch,  contained  the 
heavily  baited  ponds  over  which  we  shot. 
There  were  no  tides  in  it.  the  water  being 
controlled  by  a  great  flood  gate.  It  was  deep- 
est at  the  west  end  and  here  the  canvasback 
blinds  were  bidden  in  the  tales  which  were 
thickly  ranked  along  either  bank,  looking  from 
a  distance  like  brown  walls  rising  from  the 
newly-sown  fields.  About  a  half  mile  from 
the  blinds  was  the  duck  house,  where  scores  of 
different  kinds  of  decoys  and  several  boats 
were  kept  in  order  by  a  keeper.  This  man 
also  put  out  wheat  in  the  ponds  for  the  birds 
every  evening  and  kept  off  trespassers,  as 
well  as  setting  out  the  decoys  for  the  gunners 
and  acting  as  instructor  for  any  green  hand. 
The  keeper  lived  at  the  farmhouse'  set  down 
behind  a  large  broad  dike,  alongside  of  the 
slough-like  Sonoma  Creek.  Here  the  visiting 
sportsmen  put  up,  and  many  time  have  I 
dressed  and  undressed  winter  mornings  and 
nights  in  that  house  by  the  light  furnished  by 
natural  gas  from  a  well  in  back  of  the  barn. 
But,  although  they  have  a  great  convenience 
in  the  natural  gas,  they  are  handicapped  by  a 
lack  of  drinking  water,  the  solution  from  the 
wells  being  too  salty  to  be  palatable.  All  of 
their  aqua  pura  is  imported  from  external 
points. 

It  was  a  Saturday  noon  we  arrived  at  the 
"island"  on  the  hunt  I  have  in  mind,  and  when 
we  had  climbed  into  our  shooting  togs  and 
were  eating  lunch,  the  keeper  came  in  and 
assured  us  that  the  prospects  for  an  excellent 
evening  flight  of  "cans"  were  never  better. 
Xo  one  had  shot  over  the  ponds  for  seven 
days  and  he  had  been  feeding  the  birds  con- 
tinually. With  the  outlook  for  a  good  shoot 
ahead  of  us  it  was  hard  work  to  wait  until 
even  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  before  we 
made  our  way  to  the  blinds.  But  when  we 
were  finally  comfortably  ensconced  in  the 
sliooting  boxes  our  impatience  had  its  reward 
in  the  form  of  a  tiresome  two-hour  wait  for 


the  flight — for.  with  the  exception  of  a  few' 
ruddy  ducks  and  numberless  black  coots  that 
skittered  away  at  our  approach,  nothing  had 

i i  the  ponds  when  we  arrived.     About 

foul  "duck  the  first  shots  came — two  birds 
from  the  southwest,  canvasback  from  the  bay — . 
but  it  was  not  I  that  killed  them.  In  my  im- 
patience 1  bad  left  my  blind  an  hour  previously 
in  pursuit  of  two  widgeon  that  bad  pitched 
into  a  far  slough,  and  I  had  become  thoroughly 
lost  in  a  maze  of  small,  winding,  ooze-bot- 
tomed  salt  rivers.  Shots  continued  to  come 
from  the  direction  of  the  blinds  at  intervals, 
and  when  I  had  finally  struggled  and  fought 
my  way  back  through  mud  and  water  it  was 
five  o'clock,  and  my  companion  and  the 
keeper  had  eighteen  birds,  all  canvasback. 

There  was  a  lull  in  the  flight  for  about 
fifteen  minutes  after  my  arrival,  and  then  of  a 
sudden  I  saw  five  birds,  far  up  the  slough, 
coming  my  way.  They  were  flying  close  to 
the  water  and  I  crouched  in  the  blind  until 
they  were  forty  feet  from  the  decoys.  A 
quick  shot  downed  one  of  the  center  birds,  and 
as  they  soared  the  second  barrel  crumpled  up 
another.  One  of  the  remaining  three  birds 
niade  a  wide  circle,  and  almost  before  I  was 
aware  of  it  was  over  the  decoys  again.  This 
time   he    stayed. 

Perhaps  now  I  was  down  three  minutes,  per- 
haps one.  I  was  becoming  excited  and  could 
not  tell.  Anyway,  I  heard  a  quick,  sharp 
whish-sh  overhead  and  in  back  of  me,  and 
then  into  my  line  of  sight  swung  two  "cans" 
with  their  wings  fixed.  My  gun  shot  to  my 
shoulder,  and  just  as  one  was  settling  into  the 
decoys  it  spoke,  and  he  turned  over  and  kicked 
for  a  moment.  When  I  fired  the  other  soared 
and  the  second  barrel  only  seemed  to.  recall  to 
his  mind  some  distant  appointment  that  he 
was  already  late  in  keeping.  Next  three  or 
four  single  shots  swung  down  the  slough,  and 
some  were  killed  and  some  were  allowed  to  go 
their  way,  with  some  haste  but  no  hindrance. 
The  sun  was  going  down  in  a  great  blaze  of 
golden  glory,  and  the  whishing  of  the  birds' 
wings  as  they  swung  over  the  still  ponds  in 
wide  circles  was  becoming  almost  continuous. 
My  gun  barrels  were  getting  decidedly  warm, 
and  I  was  dimly  aware  of  the  frequent  reports 
of  the  other  gun.  Just  after  I  had  killed  three 
out  of  a  small  flock  that  had  settled  in  the 
decoys  and  risen  when  I  lifted  over  the  tules, 
the  keeper  slipped  into  the  blind.  He  reported 
the  other  gun  as  doing  very  well  farther  down 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


247 


the  slough,  and  said  that  he  came  to  call  in 
the  ducks  for  me. 

It  was  well  he  did,  for  just  then  high  over 
us  a  band  of  about  twenty  started  circling. 
Lower  and  lower,  closer  and  closer,  they  came, 
every  once  in  a  while  answering  the  hoarse 
calls  of  the  keeper.  Then  of  a  sudden  they 
pitched  toward  the  decoys,  their  wings  hissing. 
The  keeper  motioned  to  let  them  settle  and  I 
did.  Then  my  pot-hunting  instincts  arose,  and 
when  they  were  well  bunched  we  lifted  over 
the  edge  of  the  blind  and  tore  loose.  I  verily 
believe  we  killed  half  the  flock  before  they 
were  fairly  into  the  air.  Anyhow  when  the 
noise  ceased  there  seemed  a  great  many  more 
dead  ducks  bobbing  over  toward  the  tules  on 
the  other  bank.  Following  the  keeper's  orders 
I  had  retrieved  none  of  my  birds,  but  had 
kept  well  covered  in  the  blind. 

I  continued  shooting  for  the  next  twenty 
minutes  at  birds  that  literally  poured  into  the 
ponds  to  feed,  and  when  I  stopped  there  were 
but  a  few  of  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  shells 
left  which  I  had  brought  out — but  the  tules 
across  the  slough,  opposite  the  decoys,  were 
lined  with  dead  birds. 

We  now  started  in  our  boats  to  retrieve, 
and  as  we  were  picking  dead  canvasback  after 


canvasback  from  the  water,  numbers  of  live 
ones  were  dropping  into  the  distant  corners  of 
the  ponds,  while  the  hissing  of  their  wings 
overhead   was  almost  continuous. 

When  we  finally  piled  tin-  bird-,  up  in  the 
duck  house  and  counted  them  by  lantern  light 
there  were  ninety-six,  practically  a  limit  for 
each  gun — all  shot  in  an  hour  and  a  half  by 
two  only  medium  marksmen;  and,  with  the 
exception  of  a  brace,  they  were  all  canvasback. 
But  this,  I  was  told,  was  an  exceptional  flight 
for  even  these  remarkably  excellent  canvas- 
back ponds. 

I  have  shot  canvasback  under  conditions 
which  cannot  be  compared  with  those  attend- 
ant on  this  big  shoot — shot  them  from  a  brush 
blind  along  a  bay  shore  in  cold  rainy  weather, 
and  gone  home  with  half  a  dozen;  and  I  have 
shot  them  on  the  salt  marsh,  when  they  were 
extremely  wary  from  much  hunting;  and  I 
have  sculled  on  them  in  a  brush-covered  boat 
— but  whenever  I  have  swung  my  gun  on  a 
lordly  canvasback  a  peculiar  thrill  has  run 
through  me  which  has  always  been  absent 
when  I  aimed  at  any  other  duck ;  and  I  think 
this  will  always  be  the  case — for  to  me  the 
canvasback  stands  pre-eminent  in  the  duck 
world. 


THE 

LOW  LAND 

THE  clouds  hang  clo 
'     A    misty    rain    dr 

se  above  the  darkening  U 

w  land 

|is    through    the    ragged 

weeds; 

The   fall  wind  stirs   tr 

e  bristling  wire  grasses 

And    shivers    in    and 

DUt    among    the    reeds; 

A  startled  water  fowl 

beats  from  the  rushes, 

Low    to    the    earth    he 

wings    his    certain    way 

m 

A    kildee    chirriips    fr< 

m    tne    little    willows; 

A    frog    monotonously 

whirs   his   lay. 

And,    printed    dark    against    the    west    horizon 

Where   glows   a    faint 

light    of   the    hidden    sui 

A     solitary    figure    trt 

dging    homeward — 

A    weary    hunter    with 

his   dog   and   gun. 

The    grey    mist    closes 

nearer,    nearer    over 

The    wide    low    land, 

and    dimming    from    the 

sight 

The    distant    highlands 

;    while  the   rain   comes 

falling, 

A     steady     drip,     drip 

through     the     gathering 

night. 

— Grace   G.    Cro 

well. 

ENGLISH  SPORT 


By  R.  Claim 


Pari   IV.    With  thk  Ottkr  Hounds. 


N  ENGLAND  today  the  otter  is 
one  of  the  few  remaining  wild 
animals  which  still  leads  the 
same  free,  independent  life  that 
his  ancestors  used  to  lead.  He 
haunts  the  brooks  and  streams 
in  almost  every  county,  travel- 
ling by  night  and  living  upon  the 
finny  tribe  which  glide  beneath 
the  waters  of  the  mountain 
streams  or  the  deep,  dark  pools  of  the  larger 
rivers. 

The  otters  still  seem  to  hold  their  own,  in 
spite  of  the  legitimate  otter-hound  packs  which 
pursue  them  in  the  summer  months,  and  it  is 
to  their  secretive  ways  and  the  fact  that  they 
use  the  night  time  for  their  peregrinations  that 
they  mainly  owe  their  safety,  and  are  enabled 
to  breed  and  increase  their  kind.  On  most  of 
the  rivers  the  otter  is  looked  upon  much  in  the 
same  light  as  the  fox — namely  as  an  animal  to 
afford  sport  for  the  hounds— and  in  conse- 
quence, he  is  usually  free  from  molestation  ex- 
cept when  the  otter  pack  visits  the  water.  Most 
forms  of  hunting  in  England  have  become  too 
scientific  and  artificial  in  modern  times,  but  it 
is  not  so  with  otter  hunting,  for  one  of  its  great 
charms  is  that  it  is  entirely  free  from  any 
such  artificiality.  It  is  conducted  amid  lovely 
surroundings,  all  the  glories  of  spring  are  rife 
as  the  hunter  wends  his  way  by  the  rippling 
stream  in  May,  or  the  late  summer  months. 

The  deep  mouthed  hounds  awake  the  echoes 
with  their  chorus,  and  the  sound  floats  along 
the  water  as  the  pack  swim  the  quarry's  line. 
There  is  variety  in  the  sport,  for  no  two  hunts 
are  ever  alike,  which  adds  still  more  to  its  at- 
tractiveness, and  the  ever-changing  scenery  is 
an  additional  charm. 

The  hounds  are  followed  on  foot,  and  every- 
one shares  the  same  toils  of  the  chase,  which 
brings  forward  the  best  of  camaraderie  and 
good-fellowship  amongst  the  ardent  devotees  of 
the  sport. 

Some  few  of  the   English  packs  commence 


the  season  in  the  latter  pari  of  the  month  of 

April,  but  the  middle  of  May  is  the  best  period 
at  which  to  make  a  start,  for  earlier  in  the 
spring  the  water  is  too  cold  and  hounds  be- 
come chilled  with  swimming. 

The  only  impedimenta  necessary  for  the 
equipment  of  the  hunter  is  a  long,  light  pole 
of  bamboo  or  hazel  wood,  which  is  used  as  a 
jumping  pole  and  support  when  crossing  deep, 
swift-running  places  in  the  river,  and  which  in 
olden  times  was  also  used  as  a  spear  on  which 
to  impale  the  otter  when  dead-beat  at  the  end 
of  a  long  chase — a  custom  which  has  since 
been  cast  aside  as  too  barbarous  for  the  more 
humane  hunting  of  the  present  day. 

The  clothing  of  those  partaking  in  the  sport 
should  consist  as  much  as  possible  of  woollen 
or  flannel  stuffs,  for  the  hunter  often  has  to 
wade  for  hours  in  the  water — that  is,  if  he  is 
keen  to  follow  every  move  and  manoeuvre  of 
the  hounds. 

Rich  and  poor,  old  and  young,  men  and  girls 
all  join  in  hunting  with  the  otter-hounds,  for 
the  expense  is  nil  and  nothing  is  required  but  a 
stout  heart  and  a  love  of  hunting  to  enable 
every  member  of  the  field  to  view  a  hunt  from 
the  find  to  the  kill. 

The  following  may  give  the  reader  some 
idea  as  to  what  sport  can  be  had  by  following 
in  the  wake  of  one  of  our  present-day  North 
Country  packs  of  otter-hounds,  which  hunt 
the  streams  of  Yorkshire,  a  county  wdiich  has 
produced  some  of  the  best  of  sportsmen  and 
sportswomen. 

Imagine  a  swift,  deep-pooled  and  rocky 
stream,  tributary  to  a  well-known  North  Coun- 
try salmon  river,  running  through  a  wooded 
valley,  the  sides  of  'arhich  in  places  rise  steeply 
upwards  from  the  river's  edge. 

It  is  a  glorious  morning  in  the  middle  of 
May  as  we  mount  our  licycles,  the  otter  poles 
strapped  lengthwise  on  the  machines,  and  ride 
down  the  hard  white  iiimestone  road  towards 
the  little  village  some  ten  miles  distant,  where 
we  are  to  meet  the  otter-hounds. 

It  is  just  9  o'clock  as    we  roll  over  the  old 


THE  PACIFIC  CO. 1ST  MACAZINE 


249 


With  the  Otter  Hounds 


1 — Hounds   Swimming  the   Lit 
3— Hunting  the  Ditch 


5— Ready  to  Cast  Off 


2 — Weighing  the  Otter 

4— Cutting  the  "Pads"  and  "Pole" 


IVESTERh   III  I  /> 


stone  It  it  Iiii-  spanning  (lie  river  and  dismount 
.it  the  Red  Lion  bm,  where  other  arrivals  are 
already  in  waiting. 

The  earlier  a  start  can  be  made  when  in  pur- 
suit « •  f  the  otter,  the  better;  for,  as  he  travels 
by  nighf,  it  behooves  the  huntsman  to  get  his 
hounds  onto  the  night's  trail  a^  SOOn  as  pos- 
sible and  before  the  sun's  rays  have  had  time 
to  dispel  the  scent.  We  light  our  pipes  and 
saunter  to  the  parapet  of  the  bridge,  where  a 
deep,  clear  pool  gives  us  a  \ic\\  of  sundry 
trout,  idly  waving  their  tails  as  they  lie  be- 
neath the  water,  heads  up-stream,  ready  for 
any  dainty  morsel  which  the  current  above  may 
iwn  to  them. 

As  we  watch  the  tobacco  smoke  curl  slowly 
upwards  in  the  still  morning  air.  the  note  of  a 
horn  rings  out  and  as  we  look  up.  there,  round 
an  angle  of  the  road,  come  the  hounds  with 
their  huntsman  and  a  small  crowd  of  followers 
in  the  rear. 

They  draw  up  in  front  of  the  inn  and  greet- 
ings are  exchanged,  not  to  mention  one  or  two 
glasses  of  home-brewed  ale.  which  the  sport- 
ing landlord  is  ever  ready  to  dispense  to  his 
friends. 

The  master,  who  hunts  the  pack  himself,  is 
a  well-known  member  of  the  district — a  thor- 
ough hound  lover  and  sportsman. 

He  is  clad  in  the  hunt  uniform  of  blue;  a 
gold-mounted  otter-pad  in  the  front  of  his 
fore  and  aft  cap.  and  wide  blue  knickerbockers, 
below  which  are  a  pair  of  well-nailed  shooting 
boots.  Other  members  and  subscribers  to  the 
hunt  wear  a  similar  uniform,  and  nearly  all 
carry  long  poles  of  bamboo,  ash,  or  hazel. 

A  farmer  from  the  adjoining  land  informs 
us  that  an  otter  is  known  to  be  haunting  the 
stream  about  a  mile  or  more  above  the  bridge, 
so  the  master  gives  one  short  toot  upon  the 
horn  and  we  move  off  in  that  direction. 

A  word  as  to  the  hounds  we  are  following  is 
necessary  to  enlighten  the  uninitiated.  The 
pack  consists  of  twelve  couple  of  mixed 
hounds,  eight  couple  of  the  pure,  rough-coated 
otter-hounds  and  four  couple  of  fox-hounds ; 
also  the  kennel  terriers.  Vengeance.  Vixen,  and 
Dreadnaught,  who  play  their  part  when  the 
otter  has  to  be  bolted  from  some  stronghold 
amongst  the  rocks  and  roots.  We  wend  our 
way  some  distance  upstream ;  then  turn 
through  a  gate  and  cross  a  pasture  field 
towards  the  water.  The  pack  dash  eagerly 
forward,  but  a  note  on  the  horn  and'  a  word 
or  two,  accompanied  by  a  crack  of  the  whip, 


soon  curbs  their  exuberance  of  spirits,  and 
they  settle  down  to  hunt  along  the  gravelly 
sides  and  amongst  the  stones  for  an)  sign  of 
that  enticing  scent  which  they  know  so  well. 
Busily  they  nose  about,  trying  every  patch  of 
sand  where  the  otter  may  have  come  out  of 
the  water  on  his  nightly  fishing  excursion;  but 
as  yet  no  welcome  voice  proclaims  a  find. 

We  move  farther  up-stream,  and.  as  we 
reach  a  dark  pool  overhung  by  willow-.  Blue- 
bell, a  knowing  old  hound,  swims  out  to  a 
large  stone  near  the  center  of  the  pool. 

As  he  reaches  it.  the  valley  resounds  to  his 
deep-mouthed  cry,  and  the  rest  of  the  pack 
fly  to  him.  churning  the  water  into  foam  as 
they  swim  towards  the  rock;  for  well  they 
know,  when  he  speaks,  our  quarry  has  been 
there  not  very  long  before.  As  the  pack 
around,  a  chorus  of  hound  voices  proclaims 
the  old  hound's  find  and  they  swim  eagerly  up 
the  pool,  keeping  along  the  right  bank.  Strik- 
ing the  sfiallows  above  they  dash  through  the 
water,  where  again  on  the  gravelly  shore  they 
own  the  line,  and  run  best  pace  up-strearri 
amongst  the  sand  and  stones. 

We  follow  along  the  banks,  our  best  foot 
foremost,  and  catch  up  with  them  just  as  they 
cluster  beneath  the  roots  of  a  giant  willow- 
tree  which  overhangs  the  banks  of  a  pool 
some  distance  higher  up.  Here  they  bay  con- 
tinually, making  the  rocks  re-echo  to  the 
sound :  sure  sign  that  our  quarry  is  in  the 
"holt"  beneath  the  tree.  The  master  comes 
up  and  the  whipper-in.  with  the  assistance  of 
one  of  the  members  of  the  field,  takes  the 
almost  unmanageable  pack  some  distance  from 
the  tree,  to  give  our  otter  a  fair  chance,  if  we 
can  bolt  him. 

The  water  below  the  tangle  of  willow  roots 
is  waist  deep,  so  the  master  picks  up  little 
Vixen,  the  terrier,  and  wades  across  with  the 
dog  under  his  arm.  The  game  little  dog  knows 
her  business,  for  no  sooner  is  she  placed 
among  the  roots  than  she  disappears  from 
view  and  the  master  moves  a  few  yards  up- 
stream to  await  events.  For  some  seconds  all 
is  silence ;  then  a  muffled  barking  from  some- 
where beneath  the  bank  testifies  that  the  fight 
is  on  and  our  otter  is  surely  at  home. 

In  the  meantime  some  of  the  field  are  lined 
up  across  the  shallows  below  the  pool  and  the 
upper  reaches  of  the  water,  where  there  are 
some  more  long,  deep  pools  are  left  un- 
guarded ;  for  if  we  can  get  our  quarry  up- 
stream we  are  nearly  sure  of  a  good  hunt. 


/'///:'  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


251 


Another  burst  of  muffled  barking  sounds 
from  somewhere  underground;  then  suddenly 
8  dark  form  slips  from  out  the  roots,  and, 
with  a  long,  quick  dive,  which  hardly  makes 
a  ripple,  disappears  beneath  the  dark  waters  of 
the  pool,  just  as  the  terrier,  looking  wet  and 
draggled,  makes  her  appearance. 

"Twang!  twang!  twang!"  goes  the  mas- 
tor's  horn,  and  the  eager  hounds  dash  pell- 
mell  for  the  river,  their  deep-mouthed  baying 
sounding  beautifully  as  they  swim  the  otter's 
line  upon  the  water.  They  swim  straight  down 
the  pool;  the  cunning  "varmint"  has  evidently 
tried  to  pass  the  watchers  guarding  the  lower 
shallows,  but  his  attempt  is  a  failure,  for  their 
long  poles,  splashing  the  water,  effectually 
turn  him.  Coming  to  the  surface  his  head 
just  appears;  he  takes  one  look,  a  breath  of 
air  and  then  sinks  like  a  stone.  The  music 
ceases  and  the  pack  swim  round  the  pool  to 
the  tree  again,  where  they  once  more  mark 
him. 

Again  the  terrier  dislodges  him  and  he  takes 
the  water  in  full  view  of  the  assembled  field, 
leaving  a  long  train  of  bubbles  in  his  wake. 
The  pack  opens  again  as  the  otter  is  "gazed" 
in  making  his  way  up  the  rapids,  and  they 
dash  in  pursuit  and  drive  him  up  the  long 
reach  ahead.  Once  more  willing  hands  man 
the  lower  end  of  this  pool  and  the  pack  keep 
hard  after  their  quarry.  Again  the  otter  takes 
momentary  refuge  under  the  bank,  but  is 
driven  out  and  once  more  takes  the  water.  He 
now  "vents"  oftener  and  his  head  appears  in 
view  again  and  again  as  he  comes  up  for  air. 
The  pack  catch  a  view  and  swim  fast  in  pur- 
suit, an  angry  ring  in  their  voices,  for  they 
know  full  well  the  end  is  fast  approaching. 
The  otter  tries  the  lower  shallows,  but  the 
watchers  turn  him  and  he  swings  back  up- 
stream ;  his  breath  is  getting  short  and  he 
rises  almost  in  the  middle  of  the  swimming 
pack — diving  rapidly,  to  reappear  nearer  to  the 
bank.  The  terrier,  Dreadnaught,  sees  him  and  ' 
springs  from  the  bank,  seizes  him  and  dog  and 
otter  disappear  from  view.  The  water  is 
tinged  with  blood  as  the  terrier  reappears, 
his  cheek  gashed  and  bleeding  from  the  otter's 
powerful  teeth.  One  more  attempt  to  gain  a 
refuge,  and  the  otter  dives  for  nearly  the  last 


time.  He  can  keep  down  no  longer  and  reap- 
pears oftener  and  oftener,  till  at  last  the  pack 
are  almost  on  him  and  death  is  not  far  off. 
He  dives — one  last  despairing  dive — only  to 
rise  with  the  fast  closing  pack  around  him, 
every  hound  straining  for  his  blood.  Reckless 
seizes  him,  but  is  shaken  off;  Dauntless  makes 
a  rush  and  holds  hint  for  a  moment,  when 
Ravagcr,  Sportsman,  Nimble  and  the  rest  of 
the  pack  close  in,  hiding  our  quarry  beneath  a 
seething  mass  of  hounds  and  foaming  water. 

A  shrill  woo-whoop !  rings  out,  as  the 
master  wades  in  more  than  waist  deep,  seizes 
the  otter  by  the  tail  and  turns  for  the  bank, 
the  houndb  surging  after  him. 

The  quarry  is  thrown  on  the  grass  and  the 
end  soon  comes;  for  though  the  otter  is  a 
grim  and  desperate  fighter,  his  enemies  arc 
too  much  for  him  and  he  breathes  his  last — 
not,  however,  without  leaving  his  mark  on 
several  of  the  pack  and  more  especially  the  ter- 
riers. 

The  obsequies  are  soon  performed,  the  mas- 
ter giving  the  "pads,"  "mask,"  and  "pole"  to 
those  whom  he  may  wish  to  honor  with  sou- 
venirs of  the  exciting  chase.  The  dismem- 
bered body  is  thrown  to  the  waiting  pack,  the 
horn  sounding  the  long  drawn-out  note  of  the 
"kill."  Home  is  the  next  feature  of  the  pro- 
ceedings. The  pack  are  a  long  distance  from 
their  kennels,  and  as  it  is  nearly  three  o'clock 
they  have  done  quite  enough.  We  tramp  back 
with  them  to  the  inn,  mount  our  wheels,  and, 
bidding  them  adieu,  turn  up  the  road  hoping 
to  meet  them  on  the  next  hunting  morning. 
Such  is  a  good  day's  sport  with  a  pack  of 
otter-hounds,  in  pursuit  of  an  animal  which  to- 
day in  England  is  the  only  one  not  preserved 
artificially  for  purposes  of  the  chase.  Unlike 
the  pursuit  of  other  animals,  the  chase  of  the 
otter  is  purely  that  of  an  entirely  wild  crea- 
ture, who  owes  his  existence  to  his  own  cun- 
ning and  the  fact  that  the  darkness  of  night 
hides  him  from  view  in  his  wanderings. 

There  is  a  charm  all  its  own  about  the  sport : 
the  green  woods  and  rushing  water,  the  clear, 
sunny  weather,  and,  to  cap  all,  the  glorious 
music  of  the  pack,  give  the  hunter  a  zest  for 
it  above  all  other  sports. 


252 


II  I  STERN  I  ll-.l  D 


Should  then-  straight  droop,  with  wounded  pi  Mr, 

Because  it   blooms  less   fair  and 

And    front    the    world    its    graces    hi<lc. 

The    dainty    blossom    at    her    feet? 

\n.l    should    the    modest    warbler's    note 
Greet  us  no  more  from  wood  01    lea, 
Because    sonic    tuneful    regal    throat 
Floods    heaven    with    fervid   melody? 

Ah,    who    indeed   would   have   it    so. 
If   lightest    word   might   e'en   prevail: 
That    every    flower    should    bloom,    a    rose, 
And    each    bird    sing,    a    nightingale! 

— Alma    Martin. 


it  bin 


FORBIDDEN 

spacious    concert    hall, 


I   SIT 
Where  music,  beauty,  fragrance — happy  trine — 
All  work   in   harmony  with   sweet  design 
To    hold   my    senses   in    a   golden   thrall. 
And   yet,    I    hear   no    organ — but   the   call 

Of   mountain    waters,    hedged    with    fern    and    vine. 
I    see    no    stately    dames    but    one,    the    wine 
Of   whose    sweet    lips    might    cause   a    saint    to    fall. 
A   thought   defiant   of   one   stolen    day: 
A   fnemory   as   rare   as   the   perfume 

Of    some    strange    tree    in    wild,    untrolden    glade. 
The    fancy    goes — I    may   not    bid    it    stay — ■ 
I    sigh   and   wake   to    find   an    emptying   room. 
While  on  my  arm  my  wife's  fair  hand  is  laid. 
—  Ina    Wright   Hanson. 

THE  FULL  MOON 

LIKE    silver   bubble,    blown   by    some   great   god. 
The  moon   floats  up  above  the  world's  wide  rim; 
Pauses  a  moment, — as  it  were  to  nod 
A  brief  farewell  to  darkness  and  to  him. 

And  then  she  floods  the   earth   with   magic  light; 
Lays    shining    path    across    the    waters    wide; 
Glows   amid   stars,   that   quiver  at  the  sight, 
And   wheel   in    rapturous   circles  at   her  side. 

O   silver  bubble,   on  your  trackless   way, 
Saving  a  world  from  darkness  by  your  light; 
Let  me  con  well,   ere  comes  another  day, 
The  lesson   of  your   shining   in   the   night; 

And,    faring    forth   tomorrow    on   Life's   way, 
That  leads — I  know  not  where,  or  to  what  end — 
Still  trusting,  let  me  cast  my  little  ray, 
Perchance   'twill    light   the    footsteps   of   a    friend. 
— Mary    Va  ughan . 


A   South  Coast  Lyr 


SOUTH  COAST  SHOOTING 


By  "Stillhunter." 
Part  X.     After  Wild  Cats. 


ROBABLY  there  is  no  sport  in 
all  outdoors  which  equals  that 
of  riding  to  hounds — surely 
there  is  none  which  has  been 
more  written  about,  more  praised 
by  those  who  have  participated 
in  it  and  by  those  who  have 
watched  the  chase  from  afar. 

Beside  it  the  stalker,  whose 
work  in  the  killing  of  deer  or 
other  wild  game  is  in  reality  the  most  arduous 
of  all  the  games  of  the  hunting  field,  pales 
into  insignificance  in  the  public  mind.  In 
comparison,  the  man  who  can  bring  out  of  the 
air  the  swiftest  flying  teal  or  pigeon  is  an 
amateur,  while. he  who  bestrides  some  lank 
hunter  in  the  long  pursuit  of  Reynard  or 
Lobo  to  his  form  in  the  dark  earth  has  at- 
tained to  the  highest  notch  of  fame  as  a 
Nimrod. 

In  the  East,  particularly  in  the  Southeast, 
riding  to  hounds,  which  has  become  an  estab- 
lished institution,  is  a  society  event  of  the 
first  water  as  well.  Here  in  the  West  it  is  as 
yet  a  matter  of  business,  of  hunting  for  the 
hunt,  and  not  for  the  society  lights  one  meets 
or  the  pretty  girls  who  attend  because  it  is 
good  form. 

Corduroys  and  khaki  here  have  not  as  yet 
given  place  to  red  coats  and  ducks,  and  the 
high  double  cinch  saddle  is  as  yet  the  thing 
despite  the  introduction  of  the  "jockey  seat" 
in  eastern  hunts.  Where  the  fox  is  the  gamt 
in  the  blue  grass  country,  the  coyote  and  the 


wild  cat,  with  an  occasional  mountain  lion  i, 
the  game  here,  but  the  hunting  and  the  hunters 
are  altogether  different. 

North  of  the  Tehachapi  I  am  told  they  have 
good  hunts  for  the  bob  cats  which  infest  the 
higher  hills;  in  fact  I  think  I  have  seen  ac- 
counts of  such  hunts  in  Western  Field,  but  of 
them  I  am  not  privileged  to  speak,  seldom  hav- 
ing been  north  of  the  line  which  divides  the 
faunal  zones  of  the  state  so  accurately.  Here 
in  the  South,  however,  around  Los  Angeles, 
where  I  am  so  fortunate  as  to  live,  we  occa- 
sionally have  a  good  chase  on  the  ponies 
through  the  hills,  and  those  who  belong  to  the 
one  hunt  club  which  is  worth  while  in  the 
Southwest— the  Santa  Ana  Valley  organiza- 
tion,— have  sport  every  spring. 

There  are  two  species  of  wild  cats  in  South- 
ern California — the  big  gray  lynx  and  the 
little  red  plateau  lynx,  both  called  "wild  cats," 
and  the  larger  dubbed  "bob  cat"  to  distinguish 
it  in  the  vernacular  from  the  more  common 
small  variety. 

As  a  rule  I  am  opposed  to  hunting  any  sort 
of  wild  animal  with  hounds.  It  admits  in  itself 
an  inferiority  of  the  hunter  to  the  hunted,  but 
— and.  here's  the  rub — there  is  positively  no 
other  way  to  follow  a  wild  cat  of  any  species 
with  any  hope  of  success  among  the  hills  of 
the  Southwest. 

I  have  spent  hours  trying  to  stalk  a  wild 
cat  with  a  rifle  and  never  succeeded  but  once — 
and  then  it  was  not  my  fault.  I  saw  the  gray 
form  slip  through  the  underbrush,  hunger  hav- 


254 


WESTERN  FIELD 


ing  driven  the  cat  out  to  take  a  chance  with 
a  band  of  quail — and  to  net  one.  Of  course  I 
had  no  K"n  ;  indeed,  I  doubt  very  much  if  I 
should  have  used  it  after  the  exhibition  of 
stalking  which  that  lynx  put  up.  But  all  of 
these  things  are  merely  incidental  t'>  the  main 
issue,  which  is  wild  cat  hunting. 

Unlike  the  coyotes  of  the  West,  the  wild 
cats  are  commonly  found  in  the  foothills.  The 
little  wolves  range  over  the  Hat  lands,  wher- 
ever there  are  ranches  and  a  possibility  of 
poultry  or  rabbits  or  even  ground  squirrels, 
but  the  cats  love  the  brushy  tangles  of  the 
hills  and  the  rocky  ledges  with  their  scat- 
tered caves  which  here  and  there  scar  the 
foothills. 

To  get  the  cats  out  of  these  hills,  where  they 
are  as  well  hidden  as  the  proverbial  needle  in 
the  haystack,  nothing  but  the  sharp  nose  of  a 
dog,  and  a  dog  who  knows  the  cats  he  hunts, 
will  suffice.  Provided  with  such  dogs,  which 
are  gradually  coming  into  high  demand  all 
over  the  southern  end  of  the  state  as  sports- 
men realize  that  this  is  one  of  the  real  games 
of  the  outdoors,  the  hunter  rides  out  early  in 
the  morning,  while  the  fog  and  the  dew  still 
lie  heavy  on  the  chamisal  and  sage  brush,  into 
the  hills,  if  possible,  where  there  are  no  fences 
to  obstruct  the  running  of  his  horse  or  his 
dogs. 

Then,  we,  for  now  I  am  going  to  take  up 
one  of  th?  hunts  in  which  I  have  been  a 
participant,  release,  say,  six  of  ten  dogs,  hold- 
ing the  best  in  leash  for  the  time  when  the 
trailers  break  into  voice.  A  pup  working  far 
ahead  and  overrunning  the  trail,  as  is  usual 
with  young  humans  and  young  dogs,  breaks 
out;  Spot,  moving  leisurely  and  just  fast 
enough  to  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  horse- 
man who  is  holding  his  leash,  sniffs  the  air, 
gets  a  tip  on  a  sure  thing  and  lets  out  a  noise 
which  is  neither  bark  nor  bay,  but  yet  a 
sort  of  inquisitive  "woof?  woof?"  sort  of 
asking  for  confirmation,  as  it  were. 

We  let  him  go  and  he  rushes  over  to  the 
young  dog,  snuffs  along  the  ground,  finds  it 
a  false  alarm  and  slips  away  into  the  brush  on 
the  side  of  a  steep  canon,  which,  in  this  case, 
happens  to  be  a  branch  of  Santiago  Canon, 
down  in  Orange  county. 

Silently  the  dogs  and  the  horses  and  the 
men  work,  each  drenched  with  the  wetness 
of  the  early  day;  half  an  hour  passes;  we 
have  moved,  possibly,  a  mile.  And,  then, 
suddenly,  yet  with  that  deep-toned  intonatiot/ 


which  denotes  confidence,  Spot,  dimly  and  far 
away,  lets  go  of  a  bay,  following  it  up  with 
still  deeper  and  stronger  calls. 

His  voice  comes  to  us  muffled  and  we 
suspect  that  he  is  down  under  the  wall  of  the 
canon,  where  he  cannot  be  heard  well  enough 
to  tell  in  which  direction  he  is  working. 

The  young  dogs  already  are  well  ahead, 
but  we  loose  the  leash  hounds,  and  led  by 
them  we  plunge  over  the  canon  rim,  down, 
down,  through  brush,  over  loose  boulders, 
around  scanty  patches  of  cactus,  at  length 
to  see  Spot's  white  back  vanishing  on  the 
run  through  the  chamisal  on  the  far  side  of 
the  gorge. 

It  seems  that  the  dogs  see  him,  too,  for 
by  the  time  we  have  reached  the  bottom, 
having  some  little  respect  for  our  necks,  if 
not  for  our  horses,  the  older  dogs  are  in 
full  cry,  while  the  youngsters  are  cutting 
across  the  canon  half  a  mile  above,  to  join 
the  working  pack. 

Then  it  is  every  fellow  for  himself,  and  the 
Devil  take  the  hindmost ;  for  while  a  chase 
after  a  wild  cat  is  not  long,  it  is  sometimes 
very  strenuous.  Over  the  ridge  the  dogs 
go,  and  after  tfrem  we  trail,  not  in  a  compact 
body  now,  for  the  slip  and  slide  down  the 
side  of  the  gorge  set  some  so  far  back  that 
there  is  little  prospect  of  their"  being  in  at 
the  death. 

Up  the  hill  we  drive  our  horses ;  half  a 
mile  has  been  traversed,  down  the  far  side 
of  that  same  hill,  and  we  have  covered  very 
near  a  full  mile.  We  drop  down  into  the  bed 
of  still  a  larger  canon,  where  there  has  once 
been  a  stream,  but  where  now  there  is  but  the 
faintest  trickle  of  water.  Instead  of  crossing 
this  creek  bed,  the  cat  took  straight  up  it.  By 
this  time  he  must  have  heard  the  dogs,  and 
have  known  that  behind  them  were  men,  for 
we  made  no  pretense  at  concealing  any  noise 
we  cared  to  make. 

A  quarter  of  a  mile  further  we  came  to  a 
fallen  sycamore  which  lays  well  across  the 
canon.  Its  top  rests  on  a  ledge  in  a  grey 
conglomerate  cliff  which  rises  at  least  fifty 
feet  from  the  bed  of  the  stream ;  its  roots 
completely  upturned  to  the  air.  Here  the 
hounds  lose  the  trail ;  twice  they  circle  the 
butt  of  the  fallen  tree,  twice  they  swing  the 
upper  loop  of  a  figure  eight  in  the  bed  of 
the  gorge  above  the  tree,  but  to  no  avail. 

To  the  pack  the  sprawling  roots  of  the  tree 
present  such  a  tangled  face  that  they  can  not 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


255 


Good   Cat   Country 


scale  it,  though  they  try  manfully,  and  we 
lift  the  smallest  of  them  up  so  that  she  can 
get  a  foothold  on  the  slippery  trunk. 

Failing  in  this,  though  why  we  had  not 
thought  of  it  before  seems  almost  a  mystery, 
we  glanced  along  the  cliff.  There,  crouched 
on  a  ledge  some  two  or  three  feet  above  the 
highest  limb  of  the  tree  lies  the  cat,  a  little 
red  lynx,  so  small  he  seems  hardly  worth  so 
long  a  chase. 

The  dogs  are  useless  now ;  they  have  done 
their  work  and  brought  us  to  the  cat;  now 
it  is  up  to  the  men  on  the  horses  to  kill  it, 
or  to  bring  it  down  to  where  the  dogs  can 
finish  the  task  they  had  set  out  upon.  The 
little  .25-20  carbine,  without  which  the  man 
who  happens  to  head  this  particular  hunt 
seldom  goes  out  either  on  horseback  or  afoot, 
cracks  and  the  cat  falls,  quite  dead  ere  he 
reaches  the  ground,  among  the  dogs.  For  a 
moment  they  worry  it,  then  go  on,  down  to 
the  little  stream  where  they  wallow  and  roll ; 
but  they  drink  very  little  despite  the  fact  that 
they  are  very  thirsty  from  so  long  a  run  after 


a  wild  cat.  Coyote  chases  are  more  gruelling, 
and  there  are  few  fox-hounds  who  can  stand 
the  game.  Most  of  them  drop  out  in  the  first 
three  miles,  so  stiff  is  the  gait  the  little  wolf 
is  wont  to  set  for  them. 

But  this  is  one  of  the  longest,  if  not  quite 
the  longest  run  after  a  wild  cat  in  which  I 
have  ever  participated,  and  the  little  lynx 
which  made  it  must  have  been  in  prime  condi- 
tion, else  he  never  could  have  covered  that 
mile  and  a  half  or  two  miles  which  he  did 
before  becoming  so  short  winded  that  he 
had  to  take  to  a  tree  and  then  to  the  cliff. 
In  this  chase,  though,  it  should  be  remembered 
that  there  are  no  trees  handy  which  the  cat 
could  climb.  The  country  is  practically  bare 
except  for  boulders  and  ledges,  most  of  the 
former  low,  and  most  of  the  latter  in  such 
shape  that  the  dogs  can  walk  up  to  them  or 
at  best  drop  down  from  the  top. 

A  wild  cat  which  has  been  chased  once  or 
twice  becomes  very  wise  in  the  ways  of  hounds 
and  knows  to  an  inch  of  how  high  a  dog  can 
jump   or   how   far   up  he   can   climb   to   reach 


256 


H  I     I  BRN  1UEI.D 


# 

k 

1 

1  **  v> 

^ 

3 

1  * 

"He  Seems  Hardly  Worth  So  Long  a  Chase." 

a  limb  or  a  shelf  on  some  cliff.  Frequently  a 
cat  will  pass  by  a  tree  which  looks  good  to 
the  human  hunter  following  him,  but  which, 
when  measured,  shows  that  there  was  a  fatal 
defect  somewhere  which  would  have  let  the 
dogs  or  the  men  too  close  to  the  hunted. 

There  is,  however,  one  factor  which  the 
lynx  never  takes  into  consideration,  and  that 
is  the  carrying  power  of  a  rifle  ball.  The 
coyote  and  the  fox  know  this  to  a  fraction  of 
a  foot,  and  can  keep  just  out  of  range,  but 
the  wild  cat,  if  he  knew  as  much  as  either  the 
wolf  or  the  fox,  would  keep  on  running,  in- 
stead of  climbing  some  convenient  tree  to  be 
made  the  target  for  the  hunter's  bullets. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  a  wild  cat — and  some 
mountain  lions,  though  the  lion  is  not  so 
good  a  distance  runner  as  the  lynx — could 
distance  a  dog  in  an  ordinary  run  if  they 
would  but  stay  with  the  ground,  though  I 
have  never  seen  one  try  it.  Hounds  occasion- 
ally run  down  coyotes,  but  they  do  not  get 
one  in  ten  of  those  they  chase,  and  the  wild 
cat  is  a  better  trickster  than  is  the  coyote, 
though  not  so  good  as  the  fox. 

The  average  dweller  in  the  Southwest  has 
no  idea  of  the  number  of  wild  cats  which  are 
to  be  found  even  in  settled  parts  of  California. 
While  hunting  the  nest  and  eggs  of  a  certain 
warbler  in  the  swamps  of  Orange  county  for 
an  eastern  museum  a  few  years  ago,  I  saw  in 
one   day   three   of   the   little   red   cats,   getting 


of    course    only    Heeling    glimpses    of    then] 

.•inning  the  willows,  where  they  are  imt  usually 
supposed      I"     be     plentiful     and      where     they 

frequent  only  such  willow  grown  lands  ai 
border  the  dairy  and  beet  ranches. 

Every  one  of  these  cats  saw  me  first,  as  is 
their  business  to  do,  and  all  I  saw  of  each  one 
was  such  a  section  of  red  flank  as  could  be 
framed  between  two  of  the  close  grown 
willows.  These  lowland  cats  seem  to  be 
slightly  redder  and  darker  than  those  of  the 
same  species  which  are  found  in  the  Hills, 
presumably  for  the  same  reason  that  the  low- 
lands have  produced  the  so-called  "black 
rattlesnake"  and  the  hills  the  "diamond-back". 

Song  sparrows  of  the  Coastwise  marshes 
also  are  darker  than  those  which  frequent 
the  occasional  pools  and  swamps  in  the  hills ; 
those  '  which  I  have  seen  at  Elizabeth  Lake 
and  similar  places  being  noticeably  lighter  than 
those  around  Wilmington,  San  Pedro  and 
Alamitos,  though  all  are,  I  believe,  supposed 
to  be  of  the  same  species. 

At  Saratoga  Springs,  Coyote  Holes,  Owl 
Holes,  and  other  desert  watering  places,  where 
there  are  always  song  sparrows,  the  birds  are 
lighter  colored  even  than  those  at  Elizabeth 
Lake.  There  evidently  is  a  wide  field  for  the 
study,  not  so  much  of  protective  coloration  as 
of  adaptive  feather  growth,  between  the 
desert  and  the  coastal  region  in  the  bird  world. 
There  is  not  less  a  similar  field  among  the 
mammals,  and  one  which  is  even  less  well 
known. 

Smith  Mountain,  in  San  Diego  county, 
which  locality  I  believe  I  have  mentioned 
before  in  these  chronicles,  is  one  of  the  best 
places  to  hunt  wild  cats  in  California,  as  it 
is  the  home  of  many  a  lank  mountain  lion. 
But  the  low  brush-covered  foothills  of  Orange, 
Riverside,  Los  Angeles  and  Ventura  counties 
also  are  good  grounds  for  the  chase  of  the 
lynxes,  both  gray  and  red,  so  that  the  man 
who  likes  riding  to  hounds  has  no  need  to 
miss  his  favorite  sport  out  here  in  the  West, 
only  it  will  be  more  strenuous,  longer  drawn 
out  and  infinitely  more  exciting  when  he 
really  does  hit  the  trail  of  a  stayer  among  the 
wild  cat  tribe.  These  cats  however,  are  a 
good  deal  like  humans ;  some  of  them  are 
bound  to  stick  to  whatever  they  start  through 
thick  or  thin,  and  others  are  quitters  from 
the  start,  so  that  it  depends  not  alone  on  the 
hunter  but  on  the  hunted  as  well  for  the 
amount  of  sport  one  gets  out  of  the  game. 


A  CRUISE  TO  DRAKE'S  BAY 


By  Charles  Royce  Barney. 


T  WAS  a  cold  gray  morning 
with  a  light  southeasterly  wind 
blowing,  as  we  took  a  line 
aboard  from  the  launch  off  the 
Club  House  at  Sausalito  and 
towed  out  to  Point  Bonita  to 
get  all  the  advantage  of  the  ebb 
tide,  which  turned  at  7  :30.  Point 
Reyes  lay  west  by  north  about 
thirty  statute  miles  from  Mile 
Rock  Light,  and  we  accordingly  headed  that 
way  as  the  line  was  cast  off  and  the  sails 
filled,  over  a  dull-colored,  tumbling  cross  sea, 
kicked  up  by  a  light  southeasterly  wind. 

There  were  four  of  us,  two  business  and  two 
professional  men  in  civil  life,  all  members  of 
the  San  Francisco  Yacht  Club,  and  we  had 
grasped  eagerly  at  the  opportunity  offered  by 
Saturday  and  two  holidays  coming  in  succes- 
sion, to  make  this  long  projected  trip  and  get 
close  to  nature  for  a  little  while,  forgetting 
the  cares  and  anxieties  of  a  work-day  life. 

As  the  day  advanced  the  wind  freshened 
some  and  the  fog  thickened  almost  to  rain. 
The  coast  line  was  dimly  discernible  to  the 
north  and  we  could  make  out  the  blue-green 
slopes  of  Tamalpais.  Had  we  not  known  that 
it  was  the  31st  of  August  we  could  easily 
have  believed  it.  to  be  mid-winter,  as  all 
weather  indications  gave  promise  of  a  storm. 


We  were  pretty  well  fixed  for  anything  that 
should  come,  however,  and  we  knew  that  once 
under  the  shelter  of  the  Hook  at  Point  Reyes 
we  could  ride  out  anything  that  might  blow 
up ;  so  we  raced  along  with  the  rising  wind, 
up  and  down  the  green  slopes,  the  old  boat 
spearing  an  occasional  comber  with  her  bow- 
sprit as  she  settled  into  the  hollows  and  pre- 
pared herself  for  another  rise.  She  was  the 
"Jester",  of  the  San  Francisco  Yacht  Club 
fleet,  a  yawl  rig  keel  boat — a  very  able  rig 
for  outside  cruising — and  we  appreciated  the 
steady  pace  that  she  maintained  o.ver  the 
watery  stretches.  As  we  ran  outside  the  in- 
fluence of  the  tide  and  hit  the  black  water 
which  always  serves  to  remind  you  that  you 
are  really  at  sea,  we  ran  into  a  school  of 
whales  cruising  with  mouths  open  and  break- 
fasting leisurely  on  swarms  of  small  fish 
through  which  they  swam.  Occasionally  there 
would  come  an  oily  burst  of  spray  accom- 
panied by  a  prodigious  snore  and  an  insuf- 
ferable odor,  as  one  would  break  water,  ex- 
posing his  huge  bulk  only  to  disappear  again 
with  a  flirt  of  his  broad  tail.  They  were 
accompanied  in  their  progress  by  flocks  of 
chattering  gulls  and  _  other  sea  birds,  who 
quarreled  with  one  another  for  a  chance  to 
snatch  some  fishy  morsel  which  had  escaped 
the    whales,    one    of    whom    rose    within    a 


2S8 


WESTERh   FIELD 


hundred  Feel  of  the  boat,  showing  his  barnacle 
incrusted   sides  and  making  our  eyes   bulge; 

hut   the)    seemed   g 1   natured,   and,   a>   the 

Feeding  was  no  doubt  good,  did  not  molest 
us. 

Almost  before  we  knew  it  we  had  slipped 
past  the  moaning,  whistling  buoy  that  marks 
Duxbur)  Reef,  then  Bolinas  Point,  with  the 
low    flat    mesa   stretching  inland,  marked  with 

an  occasional  dairy  ranch  house,  and  had 
raised  the  1  >«  >1<  1  outlines  of  Pt.  Reyes  merging 
off   into   the   chalk)    cliffs   which    reminded    Sir 

Francis    Drake   of   his   home    in    Old   Albion 

when  he  first  sailed  into  this  hay  in  1579. 

With  the  wind  and  sea  rising,  and  the  yawl 
swinging  vigorously  from  one  crest  to  another, 
we  hire  along,  with  our  desired  haven  only  a 
few  miles  off,  and  presently  slid  from  the 
tumultuous  sea  around  a  little  head  land  and 
dropped  anchor  in  a  sheltered  cove  of  Drake's 
Bay,  as  smooth  as  a  mountain  lake,  the  water 
fully  as  clear.  We  made  the  run  from  Mile 
Rock,  about  30  miles,  in  four  hours  and  a 
half;  good  time  considering  conditions.  A 
small  baud  of  sea  lions  heralded  our  approach 
with  deep  guttural  barkings,  and  swam  towards 
US  with  outstretched  necks,  examining  us  in- 
quisitively with  their  big  brown  eyes.  There 
is  hardly  anything  more  inquisitive  than  a  sea 
lion,  and  he  will  jeopardize  his  own  safety  to 
the  limit  to  satisfy  his  curiosity.  As  they  feed 
exclusively  on  fish  and  are  consequently  much 
hated  by  the  fishermen,  they  often  fall  a  victim 
to  their  temerity,  notwithstanding  that  the  law 
forbids   killing   them. 

After  making  everything  snug,  and  putting 
out  our  heavy  anchor,  we  exchanged  our 
rubber  soled  yachting  shoes  for  heavy  tramp- 
ing boots  and  hit  the  trail  for  the  Pt.  Reyes 
Light  House,  about  three  miles  from  our 
anchorage.  Pt.  Reyes  light  is  one  of  the  most, 
if  not  the  most,  important  light  on  the  Coast, 
and  is  rated  by  the  Department  as  a  light  of 
the  First  Class.  Established  in  1870,  it  is 
located — to  state  it  accurately — in  latitude  37° 
59'  39"  North,  longitude  123°  01'  24"  West. 
That  is  the  way  the  Government  puts  it  in  its 
instructions  for  the  guidance  of  navigators. 
To  the  casual  visitor  the  most  striking  feature 
is  the  height  of  the  headland  and  the  bold 
and  rugged  appearance  of  the  cliffs.  Any  ship 
that  touches  on  the  stern  forbidding  coast  in 
rough  weather  is  almost  certainly  doomed  to 
destruction  and  her  crew  to  almost  certain 
death,   as,   except    for   some   half   mile    to   the 


north,  where  a  long,  sandy  beach  begins,  the 
lurks  are  so  high  and  precipitous  as  to  afford 
no  fool  hold  "i-  shelter  of  any  kind,  and  the 
prevailing  wind  is  generally  towards  shore, 
Kvcn  should  they  lie  able  to  reach  the  beach 
beyond,    the    surf    there    is    so    heavy    and    the 

undei  tow  so  strong,  that  the  chances  would 
be  very  much  against  them.  Consequently  the 
Government  has  erected  an  unusually  line 
light  house,  ecptipped  with  a  splendid  light 
which  is  one  of  the  best  in  the  world.  The 
height  of  the  light  house  proper  is  294  feet 
above  high  water  mark.  The  equipment  con- 
sists- of  a  splendid  lens  made  up  of  a  series 
of  prisms,  and  cylindrical  in  form,  surround- 
ing the  lamp  inside.  The  lens  is  rotated  by  a 
mechanical  clock-work  device,  at  a  speed  which 
at  any  given  point  causes  a  flash  of  white 
light  of  five  seconds  duration.  Seen  from  the 
outside  on  a  dark  night,  it  reminds  one  of 
nothing  more  than  the  spokes  of  a  gigantic 
wheel  piercing  the  darkness  for  miles.  The 
lens  was  purchased  in  Paris,  the  work  of 
French  manufacturers,  and  won  the  first  prize 
in  the  Exposition  of  1868.  Its  approximate 
cost  was  $18,000,  and  the  light  thrown  through 
it  is  visible  for  twenty-four  nautical  miles. 
It  has  been  stated  that  if  the  cloth  with  which 
it  is  covered  during  the  daytime  were  left  off, 
the  heat  gathered  and  focused  on  the  lamp 
inside  would  be  sufficient  to  melt  it  in  less  than 
half  an  hour.  It  is  in  turn  protected  by  the 
plate-glass  windows  of  the  tower  proper.  This 
lamp  reminds  one  of  an  immense  student  lamp 
equipped  with  seven  circular  wicks.  It  burns 
a  very  high  grade  of  kerosene  oil  manufactured 
for  this  purpose  exclusively,  which  is  forced 
in  under  pressure  regulated  by  a  float  feed.  So 
large  are  lens  and  lamp  that  five  men  can 
easily  stand  inside  the  lens  and  around  the 
lamp  upon  the  circular  platform  about  it.  Some 
fifteen  feet  below,  at  the  base  of  the  tower,  the 
mechanism  which  rotates  the  lens  is  situated, 
and  in  this  little  chamber  the  keeper  and  his 
assistants  maintain  a  tireless  watch  of  three 
hour  shifts  on  the  light ;  for  it  must  not  be 
allowed  to  play  any  tricks  on  the  sailor,  and 
every  evening  its  mechanism  is  regulated  by 
stop  watch  to  see  that  the  exact  interval  of 
flash  is  maintained. 

Some  hundred  feet  lower  than  the  light  is 
located  a  fog  signal,  which  toots  its  warning 
from  its  twelve  inch  throat  in  five  second 
blasts  with  intervals  of  seventy  seconds  silence. 
Like  the  light,  it  is  operated  automatically,  and 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


259 


1 — Tennessee  Beach 
J— Point  Bonita  Light 


3— S.  F.  Yacht  Club  Ho 
4 — Lime  Point 
7 — Giolis  Beach 


Sausalito      5 — Port  Baker 

6— "Jester",  oft  Bolii 


260 


WESTERN  FIELD 


attended  b)  the  keeper  and  assistants,  in  shifts. 

High  above,  on  the  cresl  of  the  point,  con 

nected  with  a  flight  of  72X  steps,  ace  the  cosy 

little  dwellings  which  house  the  keepers  and 

their  families,  all  painted  white,  and  with  thai 
peculiar  cleanliness  of  air  about  them  which 
characterizes  the  homes  of  Uncle  Sam's  official 

children     wherever     they     are     found.      White 

board  bulk-heads  protect  them  from  drifting 
sand,   and   a    wide   cemented    watershed   area 

catches  the  rain  water  and  delivers  it  into  cis- 
terns for  domestic  use  and  for  the  generation 
of  steam  for  the  signal. 

Wind  is  something  that  Pt.  Reyes  abounds 
in,  Whatever  may  be  the  weather  reports  from 
other  parts  of  the  Coast,  Pt.  Reyes  may  be 
relied  upon  to  register  during  a  majority  of 
the  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  days  of  the 
year  a  good  high  velocity  of  wind.  The  anemo- 
meter has  turned  fast  enough  there  to  show  a 
rate  of  130  miles  an  hour,  and  has  often  been 
carried  away  completely  by  the  dizzy  speed  at 
which  it  was  compelled  to  record  the  air 
currents.  Telephonic  communication  is  main- 
tained with  the  Farallone  Islands  by  cable  'at 
that  point,  and  observations  wired  to  San 
Francisco.  The  weather  observer  is  kept  busy 
reporting  weather  conditions  and  prospects, 
so  that  the  sailor,  farmer  and  merchant  may 
know  what  kind  of  weather  to  expect  and 
prepare   for. 

It  was  late  that  night  when  we  stumbled 
down  the  trail  on  the  return  trip  to  the  beach 
where  our  dingey  lay,  and  rowed  out  and 
turned  in  on  the  old  Jester,  who  lay  like  a 
monster  sea-bird  chained  by  the  beak  and 
rocking  easily  on  the  light  swells  of  the  bay. 

Sunday,  September  2nd,  broke  bright  and 
clear,  and  after  breakfasting  heartily  and  stow- 
ing everything,  we  heaved  up  our  hook  and 
set  sail  for  Drake's  Estero,  or  Limanture  Bay, 
as  it  is  commonly  called,  which  is  an  inner 
lagoon  of  Drake's  Bay  proper.  The  pure  green 
water  rippled  before  our  bows  as  the  boat  felt 
the  influence  of  the  still  southeasterly  breeze, 
and  we  were  shortly  off  the  entrance,  finding 
to  our  disappointment,  however,  that  the  bar 
was  breaking  clear  across,  and  as  we  did  not 
possess  sufficient  local  knowledge  to  follow  the 
channel,  and  the  chart  did  not  tell  us,  we  con- 
cluded that  the  small  boat  would  furnish  the 
best  method  of  exploration.  We  accordingly 
divested  ourselves  of  all  superfluous  clothing, 
took  what  we  wanted  to  eat  and  our  rifles 
and  cameras,  and  with  Dr.  B at  the  oars 


and  Dr.  C as  coxswain,  drove  through  the 

breakers  al  H"  psychological  moment  and 
I'll  hid  in  through  the  shallow  water,  all 
hands  overboard,  pulling  the  dingey  by  the 
gunwale  before  the  next  comber  came  in. 
After  a  short  lunch  we  trailed  up  the  shores 
of  Limanture  Bay  as  far  as  we  had  time  to  go, 
and  furnished  an  object  of  interest  to  the 
kind-faced  cows  that  looked  at  us  in  mild 
surprise  as  they  stood  chewing  their  cuds  iri 
the  marshy  flats  which  adjoin  the  bay.  Pt. 
Reyes,  which  is  bounded  by  Drake's  Bay  on 
the  south,  Tomales  Bay  on  the  north,  and  the 
Pacific  Ocean  on  the  west,  and  is  cut  by 
various  lagoons,  of  which  Limanture  is  the 
largest,  is  a  rich  dairy  country,  considered  the 
richest  in  the  world  for  dairying  purposes,  and 
in  the  old  days  from  1860  to  1880  was  the 
field  where  many  an  active  dairyman  made  a 
fortune  and  retired.  Those  remaining  still 
live  as  of  old  the  same  easy  going  life,  the 
hired  men  doing  the  work  wdiile  the  proprietor 
supervises  and  keeps  the  accounts.  The 
ranchers  are  hospitable  in  the  extreme,  and 
as  there  are  no  hotels  on  the  Point,  the 
traveler  may  put  up  at  any  ranch  that  he  sees 
fit,  enjoying  hospitality,  for  which  no  charge 
is  ever  made;  this  is  the  custom  of  the 
country.  Many  a  pleasurable  recollection  I 
have  of  evenings  spent  as  the  guest  of  these 
kindly  people,  who  are  for  the  most  part  well 
educated  in  a  practical  sense,  and  broad- 
minded. 

The  entire  stretch  of  land  composing  the 
Point  proper  comprises  about  45,000  acres 
of  land,  owned  practically  by  two  people  in 
two  large  separate  holdings,  divided  into  about 
25  ranches,  which  are  leased  to  the  tenants 
just  mentioned.  It  is  a  lordly  estate  indeed, 
and  looks  the  part  to  any  one  who  has 
traveled  over  it. 

As  we  turned  our  faces  again  toward  the 
ocean,  the  smoke  of  a  distant  steamer  met 
our  gaze,  stretching  in  a  straight  line  toward 
the  east  and  proclaiming  that  we  had  a  fair 
wind  for  the  return  trip.  As  our  time  for  this 
excursion  was  limited,  we  hurried  back  to  the 
beach,  loaded  our  small  boat,  and  running  the 
surf  without  any  mishap  were  soon  under  way; 

time   about   three   p.    m.     With    B at   the 

wheel  and  a  freshening  westerly  wind  follow- 
ing, we  slid  quickly  down  by  the  chalky  cliffs 
some  two  miles  off  shore,  past  the  mouth  of 
Bear  Valley  and  the  landmarks  which  fringed 
the  lakes  in  the  beautiful  game  preserve  of  the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


261 


1 — Ingersoll's  Crab  Boat 
2— The  Hook,  Pt.  Reyes 


3— Washing   Down 

4 — Mile  Rock  Light 

7 — Bolinas  Bathing  Beach 


262 


WESTERN  l  III  D 


Country  Club,  raised  Double  Point,  its  face 
clefl  .1-  with  a  gigantic  ax,  and  slid  oul  and 
around  the  crashing  surf  on  Duxburj  Reef, 
dropping  anchor  for  the  night  just  at  dusk  off 

the     bath     houses     and     entrance     to     I'.nliiia- 

I  agoon.   The  swell  of  the  Pacific  rocked  four 

tired  but  happy  men  to  sleep  to  the  music  of 
the  booming  surf,  until  morning  stole  through 
the  cabin  « indows. 

After  morning  chores,  we  again  rode  the 
surf  in  the  small  boat,  much  to  the  interest 
of  the  bathers  on  the  beach  who  emitted 
several  feminine  shrieks  at  our  supposed 
danger.  Forenoon  passed  with  a  stroll  around 
the  town  of  Bolinas,  sleepy,  cosy  and  delight- 
ful, as  it  has  been  for  years,  with  its  goodly 
quota  of  octogenarian  inhabitants  who  never 
seem  to  get  more  than  just  so  old;  a  town  of 
healthy  children  and  grown  ups,  so  free  from 
physical  ills  that  the  doctor  of  the  place  has 
to  do  something  else  besides  the  practice  of 
his  profession  to  make  life  a  financial  success. 
This  he  does  with  good  natured  understand- 
ing, for  he  is  a  native  born  himself 

It  is  only  a  matter  of  time  when  the  steam 
engine  will  be  snorting  into  this  quiet  little 
burgh,  or  the  hum  of  the  trolley  betoken  a 
new  era  for  the  place,  but  while  it  will  doubt- 
less bring  prosperity  to  many,  and  must  be 
accepted  as  the  inevitable  march  of  progress, 
the  old  sojourner  within  its  precints  will  often 
think  regretfully  of  the  peace  and  pleasure 
that  was  his  in  days  gone  by  when,  after  a 
rough  stage  ride  over  the  mountains,  he 
stretched  his  weary  stiffened  limbs  in  this 
soothing,  restful  atmosphere  of  sea,  sea  sur- 
roundings and  all  that  belong  to  it,  and  was 
lulled  to  the  "sleep  of  the  just"  by  the  gurg- 
ling tide  in  the  old  rookery  of  a  hotel,  which 


tottered  Over  tin  lagoon  until  the  April  18th 
earthquake,  with  a  kindly  push  sent  it  to  slum- 
ber in  tin'  mud,  like  an  old  used  up  ship,  for 
a  well  deserved  rest  after  the  many  years  of 
faithful  service;  of  the  smelt  fishing  under 
the  guidance  of  "Chicken  Charlie"  of  "Joe 
Wilson",  on  the  silvery  waters  of  the  lagoon 
or  along  the  Reef,  while  they  told  him  of 
their  past  experiences  of  the  early  sixties. 
I  1h  day  that  brings  modern  progress  to  that 
ideal  retreat  by  the  sea  will  banish  the  pos- 
sibilities  of  those   old   delights   forever. 

1 1  was  noon  when  we  again  found  ourselves 
on  the  beach  by  the  yawl  boat,  and  with  a 
good,  concerted  heave  ran  her  through  the 
froth  and  shot  her  out  between  the  breaking 
points  of  on  coming  swells,  and  at  twelve- 
thirty  we  were  under  way,  with  the  wind  aft, 
and  taking  lunch  in  the  cockpit,  after  which 
we  dangled  our  feet  over  the  sides  of  the  boat 
and  snapped  the  different  landmarks  as  they 
slipped   by. 

All  good  things  seem  to  end  only  too  quickly, 
and  before  we  knew  it  we  had  reviewed  Dipsea, 
Willow  Camp,  Steep  Ravine,  Big  Lagoon  and 
Tennessee  Beach,  as  they  passed  by  in  quick 
succession,  and  the  batteries  on  the  north  side 
of  the  Golden  Gate  frowned  down  upon  us 
while  we  ran  up  with  the  tide  and  picked 
up  our  moorings  off  the  Club  House  at 
Sausalito  as  the  jib  came  rattling  down.  We 
had  all  spent  three  of  the  best  days  we  had 
ever  experienced,  getting  right  close  to  nature, 
and  felt  tuned  up  again  for  the  battle  of 
life.  I  would  advise  any  one  else  who  lives 
in  a  city,  and  whose  work  and  himself  seem 
to  have  had  a  falling  out,  to  do  likewise  and 
note  the  result. 


NOVEMBER 


G 


RAY  are  the  skies;   the  rivers,  too,  are  gray; 

A   ghostly   silence   seems   to   hold  the  land; 
rief    spell   autumn    tarries   on   her   way, 
len   leaves    the    world    to    winter's   cheerless    hand. 
— Percy    M.    Cu  siting. 


THE  PACIFIC  CO. 1ST  MAGAZINE 


263 


The  Spotted  Sting  Ray  (Seen  from  direct  front  view,  and  greatly  reduced). 

THE  SPOTTED  STING  RAY 

By  Dr.  R.  W.  Shufeldt 


MONG  my  collection  of  photo- 
graphs of  fishes  I  find  one  of 
this  ray  which  has  not  hereto- 
fore been  published,  and  as  the 
species  is  not  abundant  on  our 
coasts,  and  the  drawings  of  it 
that  have  appeared  are  more  or 
less  faulty,  it  has  occurred  to 
me  that  the  reproduction  of  a 
photograph  of  an  unusually  fine 
specimen  of  it  might  not  be  altogether  devoid 
of  interest  to  ichthyologists  and  others.  Such 
a  reproduction  illustrates  the  present  brief 
paper. 

Jordan  and  Evermann  describe  the  Spotted 
Sting  Ray  (Actobatus  narinari,  (Euphrasen)  ), 
as  follows :"  "Disk  twice  as  broad  as  long,  its 
anterior  borders  a  little  convex,  posterior  con- 
cave, outer  angles  pointed.  Cephalic  fin  about 
one-third  broader  than  long.  Teeth  of  the 
lower  jaw  straight  or  more  or  less  angularly 
bent.  Tail  three  or  four  times  length  of  disk. 
Brown,  with  small  round  pale  spots.  (Du- 
meril.)  Tropical  seas,  north  on  the  Atlantic 
coast  to  Virginia ;  not  very  common  on  our 
shores.     {Narinari,  a  Brazilian  name.)" 

This  species  has  all  the  general  characters  of 
the  genus  A'etobatus  of  Blainville.  There  is 
another  species  found  on  the  Pacific  Coast  {A. 
laticeps),  that  Dr.  Jordan  believes  may  not 
be  different.     It  was  described  by  Gill   (Ann. 


Lye.  Nat.  Hist.,  N.  Y.  1865,  137),  nad  various 
other  authors  have  furnished  descriptions  (,i. 
narinari.) 

The  individual  here  figured  was  caught  in 
a  seine  by  a  fisherman  off  the  Chandeleur 
Islands  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  In  the  photo- 
graph shown  in  Figure  1  the  tail  was  lacking, 
and  I  restored  it,  being  guided  by  the  tail  in 
Figure  2,  and  other  data  in  my  possession  of  a 
reliable  character. 

The  photographs  were  sent  to  me  on  June 
12,  1901,  by  Mr.  Richard  Hines,  Jr.,  the  then 
City  Editor  of  the  Mobile  Register,  Mobile, 
Alabama,  and  in  the  letter  which  accompanied 
them  he  said  in  part : 

"I  have  read  with  so  much  interest  your  many 
articles  in  the  Photographic  Times  and  elsewhere 
about  your  photographic  experience  with  birds,  ani- 
mals and  fishes  that  I  feel  that  I  almost  know 
you    personally. 

"My  interest  in  anrateur  photography  and  natural 
history — for  I  am  an  amateur  in  both — must  be  my 
excuse  for  taking  the  liberty  of  addressing  you 
this  letter;  but  as  one  touch  of  nature  makes  the 
whole  world  kin,  so  one  touch  of  common  interest 
makes   many    of    us   feel    like   we   are   kin. 

"I  am  sending  you  a  couple  of  photographs  (I 
wish  they  were  as  good  as  yours)  which  I  took 
yesterday  of  a  large  fish  evidently  of  the  ray  species. 
I  have  not  many  standard  works  on  natural  history, 
but  the  one  I  have  led  me  to  believe  this  fish  is 
what    is    known    to    naturalists    as    a    whip    ray. 

"The  fish  weighed  sixty-five  pounds,  and  measured 
4  feet  8  inches  wide,  and  2  feet  4  inches  long. 
His    long    slender    tail    was    within    a    few    inches    of 


JM 


WESTERN  FILLD 


The  Spotted   Sting   Ray    (Seen  from  above  and  greatly  reduced). 


being  six  feet,  and  the  base  of  the  tail  vas  armed 
with  a  couple  of  short  spines  about  three  or  four 
inches  long,  like  the  spine  of  the  sting  ray,  though 
shorter  and  not  so  formidable.  The  fish  is  a  greyish 
white  underneath  and  a  muddy  tan  with  bluish 
white    spots    on    top. 

"I  promised  the  fish  man,  who  was  kind  enough 
to  pose  him  for  me  in  the  best  place  we  could 
find,  that  I  would  try  to  get  the  fish  identified.  It 
was  caught  in  a  seine  off  the  Chandeleur  Islands 
in    the   Gulf   of    Mexico. 

Hoping  that  the  photographs  will  interest  you, 
I  am  very  sincerely  yours." 

Upon  comparing  Figure  1  of  the  present 
article  with   the   reproduction   of   the   drawing 


of  the  Spotted  Sting  Ray  in  Jordan  and  Ever- 
mann's  work,  "Fishes  of  Northern  and  Mid- 
dle America"  (Pt.  IV.,  PI.  XV.,  Fig.  37),  it 
will  be  observed  that  considerable  difference 
exists  in  the  outline  of  the  two.  In  the  latter 
the  outer  angles  of  the  pectorals  are  far  more 
acute ;  the  distal  margins  of  the  ventrals  are 
rounded,  instead  of  being  nearly  square  across 
as  in  Figure  1  above ;  and,  finally,  the  spots 
more  numerous. 

The  figures  here  presented  give  a  correct 
idea  of  the  form  of  this  very  remarkable  and 
handsome  representative  of  the  Rajidcr. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


2§5 


PRIMAL  LOVE 


TIIK  Mammoth  and  the  Mastodon 
Roamed    o'er    this    field    so    green, 
Just    where    we    now     are    standii 
Back   in  the  Miocene. 
The    three-clawed    Dinosauria    splashed 

And   waded    in   the   slime, 
While    Petrodoctyls    flapped    their    wings 
In    that    dear    primal   time. 

Perhaps   you   don't    remember,    Lil, 

That   you   and    I    were   there; 
True    Science    tells    us    that    'tis    so. 

And  that  we'd  coats  of  hair. 
Mayhap    we   climbed   among    the   trees 

And   fraternized   with  apes. 
Or    traced    our    trail    with    caudal    mail 

In    mudflats   on    the    Capes. 

We    may    have    lived    in    caverns    deep. 

And    slept    on    forest    leaves, 
And   killed   the   great   cave   bear   with    sloi 

And     Ictitherion    thieves. 
Perchance    I    found    you    in    the    Fen, 

And    drew    you   to   my    side; 
While    big-tusked    Dinotherium    roared 

I    made    you    my    cave    bride. 


Oh! 


Lil, 


u  think  of  me, 

As  in  that  long  ago, 
When   my  strong   arm   protected   you 

Against    the    forest    foe? 
And   will   you   come  to  my  big   cave 

That    stands    upon   the   hill? 
It   cost   a    million   dollars   flat, 

And   only   you   can   fill. 


I    have    the    same    red    blood    in    me 

As    when    I    swung    stone    ax 
On    hard-shelled    crabs    or    saurian    heads, 

And    made    Deluvian    tracks. 
I'm  just  the  same  old  five-toed  beast 

That    tro'd    the    Permian    slime; 
And  you  are  my  Iguanodon, 

And  I'm  your  Hippo  every  time. 

—Walter  Scott   Haskell. 


MILKSOP'S  FABLES 


"A 


THING    so   white   dolh   surely    mo 

And    show    itself    but    to    provok 

So    said   the    Crows,    and   held 

Of   which   the   cause    was   just   a   ci 


The    Bull-frog   at   some    length   explains 
The    reason    why    he's    always    croaking : 

Although  he  stays  in  when  it  rains, 
He's  always  sure  to  get  a  soaking. 

Said    Bunny,    "All's    not    what    it    seems 
As    you    may    learn    from    Uncle    Remus 

Although  we're  Welsh   and  bring  bad  drea 
Our  left  hind  foot  surely  '11  redeem  us." 


Perhaps   to    people    orthodox 

To   see   a    Stork  bare-legged   is   shocking, 
But    when    upon    your    roof    he    stalks, 

They  need  below   each   extra  stocking. 

A    midnight    raider,    like    Ku    Klux, 

The  shy   Fox  waits   for   his  cue — clucking— 

But   though   he's   very   fond   of   ducks. 
He    never    kindly    takes    a    ducking. 

The    Turkeys    gobble,    saucy,    perky, 
Before  Thanksgiving  thins  their  posse, 

But    on    that    day    we    gobble    turkey, 

And   no   one   but   the   cranberry   's   saucy. 
— Charles   E.   Jenney. 


I'.\   ]    \\  1 1  i.  \i;i>  Schultz 
Author  of  "My  Life  as  an  Indian.' 


IGHT  came  and  with  it  a  driz- 
zling rain.  It  was  very  (lark;  I 
was  thinly  clothed  and  our  trad- 
ing post  was  still  a  number  of 
miles  distant.  No  wonder  then 
that  my  heart  was  cheered  by 
the  sight  of  a  good-sized  Indian 
camp  not  far  ahead,  the  lodges 
all  aglow  from  the  comfortable 
little  fires  within  them.  My 
tired  horse  turned  toward  the  camp  of  his  own 
accord,  nickering,  and  hastening  his  steps. 
The  camp  horses  answered  his  call.  Door 
flaps  were  hastily  thrust  aside  and  men  came 
forth,  guns  in  hand  to  see  who  might  be  ap- 
proaching, for  those  were  troublous  times :  the 
country  was  overrun  with,  parties  of  Sioux, 
Crows,  Cheyennes,  Crees,  Assinnaboines,  all  at 
war  with  one  another  and  with  my  friends, 
the  Blackfeet,  whose  camp  I  entered. 

"It  is  I,  Spotted  Robe,"  I  exclaimed,  and 
from  all  sides  friendly  voices  cried :  "Wel- 
come !    Spotted  Robe." 

I  dismounted  in  front  of  old  Eagle  Head's 
lodge,  and  he  bade  me  enter,  gave  me  the  seat 
of  honor  on  his  left;  some  of  his  women  hop- 
pled my  horse  and  brought  in  my  saddle, 
bridle  and  blankets,  while  others  set  before 
me  a  bowl  of  hot  soup,  another  of  boiled  buf- 
falo boss  ribs.  My  host  leisurely  cut  and 
mixed  some  tobacco  and  I'hcrb,  and  loading  a 
great  long-stemmed  black  stone  pipe,  laid  it 
ready  to  light  as  soon  as  I  should  finish  eating. 
One  by  one  men  came  in  from  the  other  lodges 
and  were  made  welcome.  I  lit  the  big  pipe, 
drew  a  few  fragrant  whiffs  from  it,  and  passed 
it  on ;  and  while  it  went  forth  and  back  around 
the  circle,  and  was  replenished  from  time  to 
time,  we  talked  of  various  things :  of  the  game, 


of  war  parties  gone  out  or  returned,  and  of 
plans   for   the   coming  winter. 

At  last  Eagle  Head  ostentatiously  knocked 
the  ashes  from  the  pipe  bowl  and  exclaimed, 
" Kyi-it-sin' -i-ka!"  (It  is  finished)  whereupon 
the  visitors  arose  and  filed  out  to  their  several 
homes.  Tired  and  sleepy^  I  laid  down  on  the 
soft  robe  couch,  drew  a  blanket  over  me  and 
was  soon  in  dreamland. 

After  an  hour  or  so  I  was  awakened  by  the 
shrill  neighing  of  a  horse  near  by.  The  fire 
had  been  covered  up  and  all  was  dark  within. 
The  people  on  the  other  couches  were  peace- 
fully sleeping.  A  light  rain  still  pattered  on 
the  lodge  skin.  The  horse — my  horse,  I  knew 
— did  not  nicker  again  and  in  a  few  moments 
I  again  fell  asleep.  Some  time  later  I  was 
re-awakened  by  the  snapping  and  cracking  of 
dry  willow  wood.  Old  Eagle  Head  had  arisen, 
raked  out  the  live  coals  buried  in-  the  ashes, 
and  built  a  little  fire. 

He  was  muttering  a  prayer :  "Oh,  Sun,"  I 
heard,  "Oh,  you  above  people !  pity  me,  give  me 
power  to  perform  my  dream's  command."  He 
seemed  to  be  highly  excited,  building  up  the 
little  fire  with  trembling  hands,  then  sitting 
back  on  his  couch  and  nervously  fumbling 
about  for  his  tobacco,  pipe,  and  cutting  board, 
never  ceasing  to  pray,  however.  "Hai'-yul 
Hai'-yu!"  he  entreated:  "I  am  old;  so  old! 
You  gods  above,  and  you  inhabiting  the  dark, 
deep  waters,  give  me  strength,  make  my  heart 
strong  to  do  this  thing!" 

"What  is  it,  friend?"  I  asked,  raising  up  on 
one  elbow  and  facing  him,  "What  has  dis- 
turbed you?" 

"Listen.  This  is  it,"  he  exclaimed.  "My 
dream  has  commanded  me  to  kill  a  bear,  a  real 
bear," — meaning  a  grizzly. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


267 


"That  is  a  hard  task,"  I  said,  sympathetically, 
"a  very  hard  task  for  a  man  of  your  age  and 
infirmity.     Of  course  you  will  not  attempt  it." 

''I  must !"  he  cried.  "I  must !  No  one  may 
evade  doing  what  his  dream  commands  him  to 
do,  else  ill  luck,  the  death  of  some  relative — 
perhaps  his  own  death,  soon  comes  as  a  pun- 
ishment for  his  neglect." 

He  began  praying  again  as  he  lit  his  pipe 
and  blew  the  smoke  ceremonially  toward  the 
heavens  and  the  earth,  "Our  Mother",  as  the 
latter  is  called.  I  kept  silent  and  waited  for 
him  to  speak  to  me  again,  and  ere  I  realized  it 
for  a  third  time  fell  asleep.  When  I  next 
awoke  the  sun  was  an  hour  or  more  high.  My 
breakfast  ready  cooked  was  awaiting  me.  Old 
Eagle  Head  was  bending  over  a  gun  in  his 
lap,  a  cap  lock,  smooth  bore  of  ancient  make, 
furbishing  it  with  a  wad  of  greased  buffalo 
hair. 

"Do  you  really  intend  to  hunt  a  grizzly?"  I 
asked,  "and  with  that  gun?" 

"Of  course  I  do,"  he  replied,  surprised,  ap- 
parently that  I  should  ask  such  a  question. 
"Didn't  I  tell  you  that  one  must  always,  no 
matter  how  hard  the  task,  obey  his  dream? 
And  isn't  this  gun  good  enough?  You  have 
no  idea  what  a  fine,  strong  shooter  it  is !  I've 
had  it  these  thirty  winters  and  more.  The 
game  that  I  have  killed  with  it !  Yes,  and  ene- 
mies, too ! — four  Crees,  an  Assinnaboine,  three 
Sioux  and  two  Crows  have  fallen  from  the 
bullets  of  this  good  weapon.  Bears,  also — both 
black  and  real  ones ;  and  buffalo,  elk,  moose,  all 
the  cloven-footed  runners ;  oh,  how  many  hun- 
dreds, I  wonder!" 

"Friend,"  I  said,  realizing  that  the  old  man 
was  not  to  be  talked  out  of  his  purpose,  "yes- 
terday evening,  only  a  short  distance  above 
here,  I  saw  the  tracks  of  a  very  large  real  bear 
in  the  trail.  Perhaps  he  has  killed  something 
near  there,  or  is  lying  by  a  carcass  he  has 
found.  Anyhow,  you  might  go  up  there  and 
look  for  him,"  and  I  described  the  place 
minutely. 

"I  will  go  there,"  he  exclaimed  when  I  had 
done.  "As  well  that  way  as  any  other.  If  he 
is  a  real  big  one,  and  I  kill  him,  then  all  the 
better ;  the  greater  will  be  my  medicine." 

I  went  out,  saddled  my  horse  and  went  home 
to  our  trading  post  situated  at  the  junction  of 
the  Musselshell  and  Missouri  rivers,  some  two 
hundred  miles  by  the  channel  below  Fort  Ben- 
ton. I  was  returning  from  a  visit  to  another 
trading  post  of  ours  away  up  the  Musselshell, 


at  the  mouth  of  Flat  Willow  creek,  when  over- 
taken by  the  night  and  the  rain.  Several  weeks 
afterward  Eagle  Head  and  his  band  moved 
down  and  pitched  their  lodges  near  by  us.  In 
the  evening  the  old  man  came  to  visit  me.  I 
produced  pipe,  tobacco  and  I'herb  and  we 
smoked  together ;  but  I  asked  no  questions, 
knowing  full  well  that  in  his  own  good  time  he 
would  tell  me  the  result  of  his  bear  hunt. 

"You  remember  the  night  my  dream  com- 
manded me  to  kill  a  real  bear,"  he  began,  "to 
kill  one  and  take  a  strip  of  its  hide  for  a  wrap- 
ping of  my  sacred  pipe!  Yes,  and  you  told  me 
where  to  go  to  find  one.  After  you  rode  away 
I  was  soon  ready  to  start,  but  not  a  man  in  all 
the  camp  would  accompany  me.  You  know 
how  we  regard  the  bear:  he  is  our  kin  in  a 
way,  an  animal  partly  human,  and  not  to  be 
killed  except  in  self  defense  or  at  the  com- 
mand of  the  gods  for  sacred  purposes.  None 
of  the  hunters  had  received  any  such  command, 
so  I  was  obliged  to  go  alone. 

"I  had  not  travelled  far  when  I  heard  steps 
behind  me,  and  turning,  there  was  Kak-sim'-i, 
my  youngest  wife.    'Where  go  you  ?'  I  asked. 

"  'With  you,  of  course,'  she  replied.  'If  the 
men  of  this  camp  are  cowards,  I,  just  a  weak 
woman,  am  not.  I  am  going  with  you  even  if 
I  have  nothing  but  the  dull  knife  for  a  weapon.' 

"I  kissed  her.  'You  were  always  my  brave 
little  woman,'  I  told  her.  'Come,  then;  you 
give  me  fresh  courage;  you  lighten  my  heart 
by  your  company.' 

"I  went  on,  she  following,  and  in  a  little 
while  found  the  tracks  you  had  seen.  The  rain 
had  washed  them  out  in  places,  but  the  trail 
could  still  be  followed.  It  led  to  the  river  and 
when  I  had  traced  it  to  the  shore,  there,  for 
the  first  time  I  realized  how  large  an  animal  I 
was  following.  Deep  sunk  in  the  mud  were 
the  plain  outlines  and  impression  of  its  feet  and 
I  measured  them.  Those  of  its  hind  feet  were 
three  and  a  half  hands  long!"  (about  four- 
teen inches)  "of  its  front  feet  a  little  more 
than  two  hands  wide!  The  length  of  its  fore 
claws  more  than  a  hand !" 

"  'Oh !  turn  back,'  Kak-sim-i'  cried  when  she 
saw  them.  'Never  before  was  such  a  bear  as 
this;  it  must  be  as  large  as  a  buffalo  bull.  It 
is  useless  to  try  to  kill  it;  let  us  go  home,  or 
seek  a  smaller  one  of  its  kind.' 

"  'No,'  I  told  her,  'we  cannot  go  back.  This 
is  a  part  of  it  all  that  was  planned  by  my 
dream.  No  doubt  it  was  intended  that  I 
should  trail  this  very  bear — to  what  end  I  know 


268 


WESTERS  FIELD 


JK-r  YHPTTSo 


"The    great    bear     *     *     *       pawed  her  over  on  her  side." 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


269 


not — but  trail  it  I  must  until  I  find  it  or  lose 
its  tracks  completely.' 

"  'Go  on,  then,'  said  she,  'I  follow  you.' 

"The  bear  had  gone  through  the  mud,  then 
across  a  wide  sand  bar  and  into  the  water. 
We  pulled  off  our  clothing  and  holding  it 
above  our  heads  forded  the  stream.  Sure 
enough,  on  the  other  side  we  picked  up  the 
trail  on  a  sand  bar.  Not  only  that,  but  here 
were  fresh  tracks  of  the  bear,  many  tracks, 
where  it  had  come  time  and  again  to  water. 
Bordering  the  river  here  was  a  grove  of  cot- 
tonwoods  and  willows,  with  thick,  high  clumps 
of  rosebrush  in  between.  In  this  grove  I  was 
sure  the  bear  was  staying,  and  my  heart  sank. 
It  is  one  thing  to  see  and  approach  such  a 
terrible,  strong,  savage  animal  in  the  open ; 
another  thing  to  seek  him  in  a  tangle  of  wil- 
lows and  brush.  Kak-sim-i'  realized  that,  too, 
and  again  she  begged  me  to  turn  back.  She 
even  cried,  and  clasping  her  arms  about  my 
neck  besought  me  as  a  woman  will — you  know 
how  it  is  for  you  are  a  married  man — for  her 
sake  to  turn  back.  But  I  could  not  do  that: 
something  kept  urging  me  on.  'Stay  here,'  I 
told  her,  'and  await  my  return.  I  must  go  in 
there  and  seek  him.' 

"But  I — I  must  tell  you  all ;  I  was  afraid ;  so 
scared  that  my  heart  seemed  to  beat  away  up 
in  my  throat  and  my  body  was  chilled.  I  took 
the  cap  from  the  nipple  of  my  gun  and  replaced 
it  with  a  fresh  one,  first  pricking  a  little  fine 
powder  down  into  the  hole  in  the  tube.  Then 
I  cocked  the  gun  and,  crossing  the  bar,  climbed 
the  steep  bank  and  entered  the  grove.  Did  she 
remain  there  on  the  sands  weeping,  awaiting 
the  outcome  of  my  venture?  No;  she  followed 
me,  brave,  strong-hearted  woman  that  she  is, 
and  I  did  not  motion  her  to  stop,  I  was  proud 
of  her. 

"It  was  easy  enough  to  follow  the  trail  of 
the  bear,  as  he  had  tramped  the  brush  down 
flat  going  to  and  from  the  water,  making  a 
plain,  wide  beaten  path.  I  sneaked  along  it 
step  by  step,  as  quietly,  as  cautiously  as  does  a 
coyote  aproaching  a  sleeping  rabbit.  The  wind 
was  in  my  face  and  after  a  time  I  caught  the 
odor  of  decaying  meat.  A  few  more  steps  and 
then,  not  far  ahead,  I  saw  the  partly  eaten  car- 
cass of  a  buffalo  cow.  I  went  on  more  care- 
fully than  ever  now,  stopping  at  every  step 
to  look  and  listen.  I  prayed.  Oh !  how  I 
prayed,  prayed  to  all  the  gods,  to  my  dream, 
for    strength,     for    courage,    for    success.      I 


prayed  to  my  dream :  'You  commanded  to  do 
this,'  I  said,  'now  help  me  in  this  great  trial  of 
my  old  years.' 

"I  turned  and  beckoned  to  Kak-sim-i',  who 
was  some  steps  behind.  She  came  stealing  up 
to  me,  her  face  grey,  her  eyes  wide  with  fear. 
'My  woman,'  I  whispered,  'my  true,  brave 
sweetheart,  stand  you  here  against  this  tree  and 
on  no  account,  no  matter  what  you  see,  make 
any  move  or  outcry.  See,  there  is  his  kill  and 
the  bear  lies  close  by.  I  will  go  on  alone  and 
find  him.  'I  take  your  words,  my  chief,'  she 
whispered  back.    'Go.    I  will  pray  for  you.' 

"And  so  I  left  her  and  moved  on  still  more 
silently  and  cautiously,  if  that  were  possible. 
At  last  I  saw  him :  he  was  lying  in  a  dark, 
shady  place,  his  head  resting  on  his  paws,  fast 
asleep.  I  made  a  couple  of  steps  more  and 
got  behind  a  good-sized  tree.  He  was  broad- 
side to  me.  I  aimed  at  the  base  of  his  head, 
where  it  joins  the  neck;  then,  thinking  it  too 
small  a  mark,  I  sighted  at  his  chest  just  back 
of  the  shoulder  and  low  down,  and  fired. 
Through  the  powder  smoke  I  saw,  dimly,  the 
huge  animal  spring  high  in  the  air.  roaring  so 
terribly  that  I  fairly  shook  with  terror.  When 
he  struck  the  ground  he  fell  over,  clawing 
madly,  biting  madly  at  the  hole  in  his  side.  And 
then  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  ran,  whither  he 
knew  not,  but  in  search  of  this  thing  that  had 
so  grievously  wounded  him,  of  course,  and 
running,  bawling,  he  went  straight  toward  my 
woman.  He  was  a  fearful  sight,  his  long  top 
hair  bristling  forward  like  that  of  an  angry 
dog,  his  great  white  teeth  glistening  and  klick- 
ing,  blood  streaming  from  his  mouth,  his  little 
eyes  flashing  green-red  fire.  The  sight  of  him 
was  more  than  Kak-sim-i'  could  bear ;  she  for- 
got my  caution  to  her  to  stand  perfectly  still — 
and  shrieking,  turned  and  ran.  The  bear,  see- 
ing her,  charged  and  ran  after  her  with  tre- 
mendous bounding  leaps.  I  was  reloading  my 
gun  as  rapidly  as  possible,  but  I  knew  that  I 
could  never  have  it  ready  before  she  was  over- 
taken, and  cold  sweat  streamed  from  my  body. 
I  tried  to  pray,  but  all  I  could  say  was  'Oh ! 
sun —  Oh !  sun —  Oh  !  sun — '  He  heard  me, 
though,  he  heard —  he  heard !  Kak-sim-i' 
stumbled  over  a  fallen  tree  limb,  fell  flat  to 
the  ground  and  lay  like  one  dead;  she  had 
fainted.  The  great  bear  came  up  to  her  and 
seemed  not  to  understand;  he  smelled  of  her, 
pawed  her  over  on  her  side ;  smelled  of  her 
again,  his  blood  dripping  down  on  her  face 
and  bosom.     I  had  now  reloaded.     There  was 


270 


WESTERN  FIELD 


a  terrible  pain  in  my  heart.  I  could  not 
breathe,  my  sight  became  dim,  or  as  if  I  were 
trying  to  Bee  through  a  thick  fog.  With  great 
effort  I  managed  to  raise  the  gun,  sight  at  the 
base  of  the  great  one's  ear,  and  pull  the  trig- 
ger. Then  it  seemed  that  night  suddenly  came ; 
all  was  dark  about  me;  there  was  a  roaring  in 
my  ears,  a  sharp,  sharp  pain  in  my  bosom. 
'My  heart,  my  heart,'  I  said,  'this  is  the  end; 
I  die.'  And  I  knew  no  more.  Yes,  I  was 
dying,  my  shadow  was  starting  for  the  Sand- 
hills, but  the  gods  once  more  took  pity  on 
Kak-sim-i',  and  on  me. 

"She  had  recovered  from  her  faint  at  once, 
ran  over  to  where  I  had  fallen  and  raised  me 
in  her  lap,  calling  me  to  return  to  life — to  re- 
turn to  life  and  arise.  I  heard  her  as  from 
afar,  and  a  great  struggle  went  on  between  my 
body  and  my  shadow"  (i.  e.  what  we  call  the 
spirit;  the  soul.)  "Oh,  it  was  a  terrible  strug- 
gle,  and   it   seemed   at   first   that   my   shadow 


would  win  and  depart  for  those  dreary  sand- 
hills. But  she.  favored  of  the  gods,  aided  my 
body  to  hold  fast  to  my  shadow,  and  at  last  I 
opened  my  eyes  and  called  her  by  name,  and 
we  cried  together  for  very  joy,  and  then,  after 
a  time,  I  arose  and  cut  the  strip  of  fur  from 
the  back  of  the  great  bear,  and  my  faithful 
woman  helped  homeward  over  the  trail. 

"But  I  am  well  now,  friend  Spotted  Robe, 
well,  and  strong,  and  happy.  And  best  of  all,  I 
have  had  another  dream.  In  it  I  saw  green 
growing  grass.  You  know  what  that  means :  I 
shall  live  to  see  another  summer  at  least,"  and 
with  that  he  arose  and  went  out  of  the  door, 
and  home  to  his  lodge.  Dear  old  Eagle  Head ! 
He  lived  to  see  the  buffalo  swept  from  the 
plains,  and  then  with  his  wives  perished  miser- 
ably from  starvation  on  the  tribal  reservation 
that  dreadful  winter  when  so  many  died 
through  the  fault  of  a  lying,  thieving  Govern- 
ment Agent. 


ON  THE  RODEO 

NO, — 'taint    that    I'm    queered    on    the    roundup, 
Or    balk    at    the    irons, — but    it's    strange, 
When    I'm    feelin'    so    fit    from    the    ground    up, 

To    rope    the   best    steer    on    the    range — 
It's    queer    how    some    nights    and    some    places. 

That    the   sound    of   the    hoofs    at   the   bars 
Don't    quite    seem    to    fill    all    the    spaces 
That    hovers    'twixt    me   an*   the    stars. 

God    knows    that    I've    roughed    it    a-plenty, 

Since     I     answered    the    Cattle-call; 
An'    Girls  ? — I  f    there's    one    there's    been    twenty, 

Since    the    days    when    Hallie    was    all. 
But    today    there    was    that    in    the    Valley,— 

An'    tonight    in    the    moonshine    is    this, 
That    steals    'round    my    heart    like    Hallie, 

With    her    smile,    an'    her    tears    an'    her   kiss. 


Pride?      God!      She    was    proud.      How    t 

Hid    the    tears    that    her    heart    let    fall! 

Bah!      The    rest   of    'em   seems   but   ashes 


lashes 


Of  the  days  wi 
An'    she    said     . 

Just  because  I 
But    the   best    of 

When 


i    Hallie    was    all. 

.     "Don't    think    I'm 
ust   lose   you,   Joe, — 

both    is    a-leavin' 


letting     each     othe 


go. 


If    the    pesky    moon    wouldn't    shine    so, 

Or  the  wild  flowers  droop  on  the  hill — 
If   the    rain-dove's    mate    wouldn't    pine    so, 

When    the    cattle    is    kind    o'    still — 
Might    be    I    could    rest    in    such    places. 

When    the    sound    of   the    hoofs    at    the    bars 
Don't    seem    to    fill    up    all    the    spaces 

That    hovers    'twixt    me   an*   the    stars. 

— Sadie  Bowman  Metcalfe. 


ANIMAL  COURAGE 

By  F.  W.  Reid. 


Part  II. 


ET  us  pass  on  now  to  the  beasts 
of  the  field,  the  eaters  of  grass. 
The  great  elephant,  which  has 
already  been  considered,  is  in- 
deed graminivorous,  but  he  be- 
longs to  the  forest,  not  the 
prairie.  There  are  fanciful 
theorists  who  believe  that  diet 
regulates  the  temper  of  man  and 
animals :  that  "We  are  what  we 
eat."  Ferocity  they  think  is  founded  on 
meat,  and  kindled  by  uric  acid  and  other 
derivates  of  flesh.  True,  courage  and 
carnivore  both  begin  with  a  c,  and  mush 
and  meekness  have  the  same  initial  letters ; 
but  alliteration  begins  and  ends  the  matter. 
The  tissues  of  the  animal  body  are  built 
up  from  its  food;  but  who  shall  say  what 
nourishes   the   spirit? 

Certain  it  is  that  herbs  alone  form  the 
nutriment  of  some  of  the  fiercest  creatures 
in  existence.  Ordinary  bulls,  whether  in  a 
china-shop  or  a  corral,  may  not  be  affronted 
lightly  by  theorists  on  dietetics.  But  what 
of  the  wild  buffalo?  Hunting  this  grand 
animal  is  a  very  dangerous  sport.  The  bull 
advances  to  meet  the  challenge  of  the 
hunter,  pawing  and  snorting,  the  very 
picture  of  a  courageous  champion.  He  is 
hard  to  hit  mortally,  when  he  comes  on 
with  nose  uplifted.  A  mortal  wound  will  not 
check  his  inflexible  and  determined  onset. 
If  he  overtakes  his  enemy,  he  gores  and 
tramples  him  to  death.  Here  is  shown  a 
high  degree  of  defensive  courage. 

The  natural  enemy  of  the  African  buffalo 
is  the  lion.  Wiser  than  certain  British 
generals  "showed  themselves  in  the  Boer 
war,  the  feline  hunter  never  risks  a  frontal 
attack,  but  trusts  in  flank  movements,  or  a 
leap  out  of  the  dark  of  an  ambush.  Even 
then  he  may  have  to  pay  for  his  untasted 
dinner  with  his  life.  For  buffaloes  are 
quick  to  rescue  a  herd-fellow  who  has  been 
taken  at  a  disadvantage,  and  charging  will 
easily    knock     over     the     marauding     lion. 


Thereupon  ensues  a  very  lively  melee,  or 
"mix-up"  as  the  knightly  term  is  rendered 
in  the  jargon  of  the  prize-ring. 

A  South  African  hunter  named  Vardon 
was  fortunate  enough  to  witness  the 
spectacle  of  a  buffalo  defending  itself 
against  the  concerted  attack  of  three  lions.  It 
was  a  case  of  "butting-in"  on  their  part,  for 
Vardon  had  wounded  and  was  following  up  the 
animal,  when  the  lions  smelt  out  the  sport  and 
jumped  in  to  rob  him  of  the  meat.  But  the 
bull  defended  itself  gallantly.  It  gored  its 
foes  as  they  came  on  and  held  up  its  end 
of  the  running  fight,  till  it  dropped  dead  of 
the  bullet  wound  it  had  received.  This  is 
hard  to  beat  for  an  example  of  sheer  animal 
courage. 

Fearless  indeed  must  this  creature  be. 
Thirty  African  native  hunters,  armed  with 
guns  of  a  poor  quality,  went  in  pursuit  of  a 
buffalo.  They  came  suddenly  upon  the 
animal,  which  was  wallowing  in  marshy 
ground.  But  neither  the  numbers  of  the 
band  nor  the  noise  of  their  volley  fire 
daunted  the  brave  bull.  The  leading  hunter 
discharged  his  piece  almost  in  the  buffalo's 
face,  missed,  and  was  hooked  by  the  in- 
furiated animal,  who  danced  a  triumph  on 
his  mangled  body,  while  the  remainder  of 
the  affrighted  hunters  bolted  for  their  lives. 

There  is  no  need  to  multiply  instances  of 
the  valor  of  the  buffalo.  It  is  of  a  dogged, 
inflexible,  unreflecting  quality,  like  that  of 
the  famous  British  infantry  of  whom 
Napoleon  remarked  that  they  did  not  know 
when  they  were  beaten.  The  French  spoke 
more  wisely  than  they  knew  when  they 
nicknamed  their  adversaries  "John  Bulls." 
All  the  family  of  Bos,  whether  Africanus  or 
Asiaticus,  possess  this  soldierly  courage,  the 
spirit  of  the  champion  who  fights  for  the 
herd.  For  the  buffalo  kind  are  not  beasts  of 
prey  like  the  cats ;  it  is  not  their  part  to 
wantonly  assume  the  offensive.  But  woe  to 
those  that  provoke  their  slow-moving  indomit- 
able courage. 


272 


WESTERN  FIELD 


There  is  another  grass  eater  and  fellow 
denizen  of  wild  Africa  that  ranks  near  the 
buffalo — the  rhinoceros.  But  though  the  bull 
has  a  stout  hide  to  shield  his  brave  heart, 
the  rhino  is  much  better  protected.  He  is 
plated  with  thick  armor  that  is  almost  spear 
proof,  and  his  frontal  bone  is  extremely  thick. 
The  consciousness  of  being  mail-clad  steels  the 
heart  of  this  formidable  animal,  and  his  temper 
is  extremely  aggressive. 

In  Africa  there  are  two  kinds  of  rhinoceros : 
the  Cape  or  white  rhino,  and  the  Ketloa,  which 
is  black  in  color.  The  latter  is  the  gladiator 
of  the  family.  His  blood  is  up  at  the  sight  of 
strangers  in  the  jungle,  and  he  goes  for  them 
on  general  principles.  Astor  Chanler's  caravan 
was  repeatedly  attacked  by  rhinos,  during  his 
march  through  East  Africa.  They  rushed 
from  the  grass  which  borders  the  narrow 
paths  that  lead  from  village  to  village,  and 
charged  the  line  of  porters  and  horsemen  as  if 
determined  to  drive  the  intruders  from  the 
country.  The  brutes  bore  down  with  blind 
fury  on  everything  in  their  way,  a  packing 
case  thrown  down  by  a  terrified  carrier  was 
smashed  into  pieces.  Carbine  fire  was  of  no 
avail  to  stop  their  rushes — a  pea-shooter  would 
have  been  as  effective.  The  natives  at  last 
became  so  demoralised  that  at  the  cry  "Faro!" 
they  fled  helter-skelter  to  the  nearest  trees. 
Where  this  heedless  hide-clad  bully  abounds 
he  is  far  more  troublesome  to  the  traveler  than 
the  warier  lion. 

It  must  be  a  nightmare  experience  to  be 
chased  by  an  unicorn.  In  dreams,  the  sleeper 
is  sometimes  between  the  rails,  fleeing  across 
a  trestle  before  a  roaring  locomotive.  But 
the  rider  who  is  pursued  by  a  brute,  plated 
like  a  "Mogul"  and  nearly  as  heavy,  is  in  a 
predicament  equally  hair-raising.  This  gro- 
tesque monster  charges  like  the  jobber wock, 
'"Whiffling  through  the  tulgy  wood;"  and  im- 
palement on  his  horn  is  death  in  a  hideous 
shape. 

The  rhinoceros  fears  no  foe,  brute  or  human. 
Secure  behind  his  solid  shields,  he  knows  that 
whatever  lions  may  do  to  the  deer  and  cattle, 
they  will  never  be  able  to  make  a  meal  off 
him.  He  is  too  tough — in  both  senses  of  the 
word —  for  them  to  attack.  If  lions  cross  his 
path,  he  plays  pitch  and  toss  with  them. 
Although  Leo  is  the  more  imposing  figure 
with  his  mane  and  his  roar,  the  rhino,  is  the 
real  boss  of  the   African  jungle.    The   small- 


brained,  irritable  monster  is  a  type  of  un- 
reasoning brutal  courage.  He  is  the  Giant 
Blundcrbore  of  his  country. 

What  the  rhino  is  on  land  the  hippopotamus 
is  in  the  water.  They  are  two  of  a  kind, 
equally  aggressive  and  stupidly  ferocious.  The 
amphibian  is  perhaps  the  better  protected  of 
the  two,  his  hide  is  so  dense  that  it  sinks  in 
water.  Crocodiles  try  in  vain  to  bite  their 
way  into  the  carcass  of  a  dead  hippopotamus. 
Why  the  Greeks  gave  the  animal  this  name, 
which  means  literally  "river-horse,"  is  not 
clear.  It  is  really  a  colossal  hog  in  armor, 
with  the  feet  and  shape  of  the  porcine  race. 

Hoggish,  too,  is  its  temper.  The  animal 
of  course  is  a  grass  feeder  and  has  no  use 
for  beef ;  yet  it  will  drag  cows  under  water 
and  drown  them,  as  they  swim  across  a  river. 
It  acts  as  though  it  considered  the  river  its 
peculiar  domain,  and  all  non-amphibians  tres- 
passers to  be  promptly  put  out  of  the  way. 
Canoes  and  boats  of  all  kinds  it  holds  in 
especial  hatred;  yet  it  is  not  hunted  from 
canoes  by  the  natives.  It  is  this  enmity  on  the 
part  of  the  hippo  that  makes  water  traveling 
in  Africa,  from  the  Niger  to  the  Zambesi, 
dangerous,  especially  at  night. 

Like  a  submarine,  the  hippo  shows  very  little 
of  its  surface  above  the  water.  It  comes  up 
to  breathe  and  look  out,  just  lifting  an  eye. 
A  snort  or  puff  perhaps  is  heard,  and  then 
bang !  crash !  your  boat  is  sinking,  crushed  like 
a  shell  between  the  brute's  harrow-teethed 
jaws.  Samuel  Baker  on  one  of  his  Nile  ex- 
peditions had  a  dinghy  sunk  and  his  big  sail- 
ing-vessel charged  by  a  hippo,  which  drove  its 
tusk  right  through  the  iron  sheathing.  But 
the  most  remarkable  naval  action  of  this  kind 
that  he  records  is  the  attack  on  his  steamer. 
As  a  rule  steam-vessels  put  to  flight,  or  rather 
diving,  all  aquatic  animals;  but  hippos  seem 
to  be  an  exception.  At  any  rate  a  champion 
of  the  Nile,  irritated  by  the  invasion  of  his 
domain,  attacked  and  broke  a  float  off  the  pad- 
dle-wheel of  the  explorer's  boat.  As  the 
French  general  said  of  the  charge  of  the  Light 
Brigade :  "This  is  magnificent, — but  it  is  not 
war."    But  what  superb,  if  blind  courage ! 

On  the  land  the  hippo  does  not  feel  so  sure 
of  himself  as  in  his  more  accustomed  element. 
Yet  it  is  not  safe  to  attack  this  pugnacious 
animal  when  sleeping  on  a  sand  bank  or  in  a 
riverside  melon-patch  to  which  he  may  have 
resorted  for  a  meal.  Fruit  diet  does  not  soften 
his   snappish   temper.     The  Arab  hunter  may 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


273 


approach  too  near  the  sluggish  monster,  which 
rousing  bites  him  in  two.  Being  a  bulky  ani- 
mal that  provides  meat  supply  on  a  wholesale 
scale,  the  hippo  is  hunted  in  an  elaborate  way 
by  natives  armed  with  harpoons  and  ropes.  But 
hunt  as  they  may,  there  seems  no  scaring  the 
pluck  out  of  this  thick-skinned,  thick-headed 
animal. 

In  spite  of  his  grandiloquent  name,  there  is  a 
good  deal  of  the  pig,  as  we  have  seen,  about 
the  hippopotamus.  But  to  appraise  the  courage 
of  the  actual  hog  seems  like  descending  to  the 
lowest  step  of  an  anti-climax,  especially  after 
questioning  the  spirit  of  the  nobler  game.  But 
there  is  much  in  names,  where  reputation  is 
concerned ;  witness  the  proverb  about  giving  a 
dog  a  bad  name.  The  hog  is  a  useful  but  un- 
savory animal,  and  to  call  a  man  "hog"  is  not 
to  pay  him  a  compliment.  But  the  word  "boar" 
carries  with  it  different  associations.  It  brings 
to  mind  the  wild  animal,  acorn-feeding  and 
forest-dwelling,  the  quarry  of  noble  Nimrods 
from  the  days  of  the  Norman  kings  to  the 
reign  of  the  present  German  Emperor,  who  is 
fond  of  shooting  wild  boars.  Baker,  who  fol- 
lowed his  hounds  on  foot  in  Ceylon  and  killed 
his  game  at  close  quarters  with  a  hunting 
knife,  calls  the  boar  "a  determined  fighter  who 
does  battle  for  the  love  of  the  thing." 

Against  this  forest  champion  man  sends  a 
pack  of  hounds.  All  the  boar  has  to  defend 
himself  with  is  his  thick,  bristly  hide,  and  a 
pair  of  razor-sharp  cutting  tusks.  Fierce  and 
bloodthirsty  are  his  enemies ;  and  their  number 
makes  the  combat  unequal.  But  when  the  boar 
stands  at  bay,  with  his  flanks  protected  by 
thorny  jungle,  facing  alone  a  ring  of  yelping, 
snapping  hounds,  he  shines  out  as  an  example 
of  stubborn  courage.  He  is  fixed  there,  de- 
termined in  his  inflexible  hog-mind  to  fight  the 
battle  out  on  that  spot,  end  how  it  may.  A 
terrible  scrimmage  takes  place.  Hounds  that 
rush  in,  too  eager  for  the  fray,  retreat  ripped 
and  slashed.  The  knowing  ones  wait  a  chance 
to  seize  the  boar  by  the  ear.  But  even  when 
overpowered  by  sheer  weight  of  numbers,  he 
dies  fighting. 

Indeed,  there  is  much  pluck  in  this  small 
animal.  A  horse  and  its  rider  armed  with  a 
long  spear  would  appear  formidable  enough  to 
cow  the  stoutest  boar.  But  no :  although  the 
attempt  seems  as  vain  as  Don  Quixote's  at- 
tack on  the  whirling  windmills,  he  charges  the 
"pig-sticker",  and  unable  to  reach  the  man 
wreaks  his  fury  on  the  horse's  legs.    In  coun- 


tries where  wild  pigs  roam  in  packs  the  tables 
are  sometimes  turned.  The  peccaries  of  South 
America  are  very  quarrelsome  and  bristle  up, 
even  when  no  offense  is  intended.  The  harm- 
less butterfly  chaser  who  comes  athwart  of  a 
pack  of  these  small  but  peppery  pigs  had  better 
climb  the  nearest  tree.  He  may  have  a  long 
time  to  wait  before  it  is  safe  to  come  down. 
For  their  temper  is  uncertain,  with  a  tendency 
towards  the  aggressively  pugnacious. 

If  the  weight  and  size  of  the  wild  boar  are 
balanced  against  the  weight  and  size  of  his 
enemies ;  if  the  handicap  of  the  hunt  is  taken 
into  account,  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  he 
ranks  high  in  the  roll  of  courageous  animals. 
Among  his  fellows  of  the  wild  he  is  respected 
for  his  tusks  and  his  temper. 

With  the  boar,  the  least  of  those  creatures 
that  stand  up  against  the  attacks  of  the  car- 
nivorous killers,  closes  this  incomplete  survey 
of  animal  fighters.  Deer,  indeed,  are  at  times 
pugnacious ;  and  some,  the  moose  for  example, 
show  much  defensive  courage.  But  it  hardly 
seems  worth  while  to  open  the  question  of  the 
bravery  of  animals  that,  although  horned,  rely 
mainly  upon  their  swiftness.  Their  valor  is  too 
much  tempered  by  discretion. 

Among  the  game  animals  enumerated  it 
seems  well-nigh  impossible  to  select  one  as 
indisputably  braver  than  the  rest.  Who  shall 
say  whether  the  lion  is  the  true  king  of  the 
cats,  or  the  tiger?  Nature  does  not  try  the 
question  out,  and  if  we  turn  to  man  for  an 
answer,  hunters  differ  considerably  in  opinion. 
The  experience  of  most  Nimrods  is  limited  to 
one  kind  of  fierce  game,  the  boldness  of  which 
they  are  apt  to  overrate  for  purely  personal 
reasons.  Talk  about  lions  to  a  veteran  hunter 
of  the  Rockies,  and  he  will  be  likely  to  say: 
"Aw,  lions!  Why,  a  grizzly  would  just  chaw 
up  a  lion,  claws  and  hide  and  all !"  Men  whose 
experience  has  been  world-wide  are  not  unan- 
imous in  their  estimates  of  animal  courage. 
Baker  seems  to  think  the  wild  buffalo  the  most 
formidable  of  big  game.  Sportsmen  feel  a 
chivalrous  respect  for  the  animal  that  has 
given  them  the  grandest  sport,  and  this  they 
vote  to  be  the  bravest  of  all.  Thus  opinions 
vary  and  the  question  remains  unsettled. 

A  quantitative  analysis,  as  chemists  call  it, 
must  then  be  abandoned  as  impracticable.  Still 
it  cannot  have  escaped  remark  that  the  quality 
of  brute  courage  varies  with  the  kind  of 
animal,  although  not  precisely  in  the  way  one 
would   imagine   beforehand.     Thus,   the   most 


274 


WESTERN  FIELD 


aggressive  animals  are  found  among  the  grass 
eaters.  The  surliness  of  the  bear  is  more  dom- 
inant than  that  of  the  irritable  rhinoceros.  The 
wary  and  aggressive  courage  of  the  predatory 
cats  differs  from  the  boldness  of  the  buffalo. 
In  the  character  of  the  leopard  there  is  a  trait 
of  cheeky  intrepidity  lacking  in  that  of  the 
tiger.  There  seem  to  be  shades  and  tints  in 
the  courage  of  animals  as  in  the  colors  of  their 
skins. 

Although  it  is  rash  to  argue  in  terms  of 
human  psychology  concerning  the  spirit  of 
animals,  yet  the  motives  of  their  courage  ap- 
pear in  some  instances  like  those  of  man's. 
Human  mobs  are  influenced  by  a  collective  or 
"crowd"  spirit  to  perform  acts  which  the  in- 
dividuals that  compose  them  would  not  dare 
to  attempt  single-handed.  Similarly  wild  cattle 
feel  the  contagion  of  the  crowd.  The  weaker 
members  are  heartened  by  the  example  of  the 
bulls,  and  by  the  shoulder-touch  of  their  neigh- 
bors, to  face  their  predatory  foes  with  a  ring 
fence  of  lowered  horns.  The  courage  of  ani- 
mals, like  that  of  men,  is  enhanced  by  special 
stimuli.  Alcohol,  indeed,  they  do  not  take  to 
inspirit  them  with  a  temporary,  or  "Dutch" 
courage;  but  they  are  pricked  on  to  bolder 
action  by  the  maternal  instinct  and  by  jealous 
excitement.    The  sharpest  spur  of  all  is  hunger. 

But  these  particular  incentives  are  a  matter 
of  times  and  seasons.  The  normal  everyday 
fighting  courage  of  a  wild  animal  is  based 
mainly  on  its  equipment  for  attack  and  defense. 
Where  it  is  used  to  meeting  man  as  an  enemy, 
it  is  influenced  by  its  experience  of  his  peculiar 
powers  of  offense.  For  while  the  creatures  of 
the  jungle  are  guided  by  immemorial  habits, 
while  they  instinctively  are  able  to  gauge  one 
another's  powers  of  resistance,  the  action  of 
man  as  a  factor  in  their  lives  is  forever  uncer- 
tain. He  is  inventive  and  progressive.  The 
weapons  with  which  he  attacks  in  one  genera- 
tion are  in  the  next  replaced  by  other  and  more 
destructive  ones.     As  spear  and  bow  are  re- 


placed by  gun  and  rifle,  as  country  that  was 
once  wild  becomes  settled  up,  the  native  ani- 
mals lose  their  boldness  and  retreat  before  the 
advance  of  civilization. 

Animal  courage,  when  seated  in  the  human 
breast,  is  the  complement  of  another  and 
higher  form  of  courage,  which  is  called  moral. 
In  this  the  wild  beasts  have  no  part.  But  that 
stoutheartedness  which  is  qualified  as  "brute," 
they  possess,  if  not  in  greater  amount,  then  in 
a  more  available  form  than  man  does.  Napo- 
leon said  that  the  rarest  kind  of  courage  was 
"three  o'clock  in  the  morning  courage."  He 
meant,  one  supposes,  that  at  that  chill  hour  a 
soldier's  nervous  energy  is  in  a  state  of  low 
tension ;  that  under  those  depressing  circum- 
stances his  spirit  is  weaker  than  when,  in  the 
heat  of  battle,  he  is  cheered  by  the  martial 
music  of  the  band  and  heartened  by  the  ex- 
ample of  his  comrades.  A  man  roused  from  a 
bivouac  slumber  has  to  summon  his  courage 
before  he  is  master  of  his  powers  of  offense. 
Civilized  man  has  departed  so  long  from  the 
wild  life  that  it  takes  some  years  of  training 
to  turn  him  into  a  first-class  fighter ;  and  even 
then  only  the  few  always  have  their  fighting 
wits  about  them. 

But  a  savage  animal  does  not  need  to  sum- 
mon his  courage.  He  needs  no  call  to  arms; 
his  armor  is  always  on,  his  weapons  ever 
ready.  His  is  a  nature  far  simpler  than  man's, 
at  whose  spirit  pull  the  cords  of  emotion  and 
reflective  thought.  Hence  a  ferocious  beast  is 
most  dangerous  when  surprised.  He  strikes 
without  hesitation,  without  calculating  conse- 
quences, automatically,  like  a  machine  keyed  up 
to  the  stress  of  a  never-ceasing  struggle. 

To  be  gifted  with  some  portion  of  brute 
courage  is  no  small  endowment  to  a  man  how- 
ever highly  civilized  he  be.  But  it  is  most 
prized  under  the  conditions  of  savage  life  and 
in  primitive  communities :  in  short,  where 
human  life  is  least  differentiated  from  animal. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


275 


(?Q\ 


bd 


ALFALFA 

PRAISE  as  you  will,  your  fairest  flower  of  all, 
I'll  not  dispute  a  special  charm,   but   mine 
So  richly  ornaments  the  breast   of  earth 
No    other    seems   so    fragrant    or    so    fine. 

And    stately,    too,    in    Summer    winds    asway. 
The  blossoms  purple   in   the  brilliant  sun, — 
Queen's    color, — and    the    fields    one    mass    of    it, 
A    carpet    fit    for    fairies,    spread    and    spun. 

And   ne'er   such    odors   steeped    in   light    were   known, 
Since    God    walked    in    his    gardens,    newly-made. 
In    primal    freshness    of    sweet    scents    and    dews, 
Surely    this    balm    from    heavenly    meadows    strayed, 

To    soothe    the    sharp,    vexatious    stings    of    life, 
To    calm    the    restlessness    of    anxious    care; 
The    night   winds   waft   it   round   us  as  they  swing 
Full-brimmed,    invisible    censers    everywhere. 

Mile  on  blue  mile  it  feeds  the  rancher's  herds, 
And  when  the  fresh  milk  fills  my  bowl,  I  wish 
That  it  were  e'en  like  thine,  good  Philemon, — 
Blest    of    the    gods,    a    never   empty    dish! 

— Lulu    Whedon    Mitchell. 


PQ 


bd 


By  Charlton  Lawrence  Edholm. 


1 

URLY  told  me  about  him  one 
night  in  the  Diamond  S.  ranch 
house,  and  as  the  foreman, 
Kinnear,  a  reliable  man,  Haw- 
kins, Reddy  and  Cock-eye 
George  Geoghegan  were  pres- 
ent and  verified  his  statement, 
far  be  it  from  me  to  doubt  its 
truth. 

The  ranch  house  was  a  flat, 
rambling  adobe  building,  or  collection  of  build- 
ings, not  old  but  with  as  many  traces  of  age 
as  a  factory-built  antique.  The  broad,  low 
room  in  which  we  loafed  after  supper  was  un- 
plastered  but,  in  some  fleeting  spasm  of  luxury, 
had  been  tinted  pale  blue  over  the  adobe  bricks. 
This  tint  had  chipped  off  in  some  places  and 
washed  off  in  others  until  in  the  flicker  from 
the  open  fireplace  the  walls  had  the  appear- 
ance of  an  impressionist  fresco  in  milk  blue 
and  umber. 

The  ceiling  was  low,  as  I  have  mentioned, 
but  to  be  exact  I  should  specify  that  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  it  was  four  feet  lower 
than  elsewhere,  and   everyone  who  knew  the 


place  either  circled  around  the  room  or  ducked 
his  head  in  the  nick  of  time  when  he  had  oc- 
casion to  cross  it. 

The  reason  for  this  freak  of  domestic  archi- 
tecture was  that  a  'dobe  brick  up  near  the 
roof  had  crumbled  into  clods  and  dropped  in 
on  the  dingy  cheesecloth  ceiling,  which  had 
been  bravely  supporting  this  twenty  pounds  of 
dried  mud  ever  since  the  big  rain  storm  three 
years  ago. 

Curly  sat  gazing  reflectively  at  the  taut 
cheesecloth  while  he  rolled  a  Durham  cigar- 
ette, till  noticing  that  my  eye  followed  his,  he 
was  obliging  enough  to  share  his  reminis- 
cences. 

"I  remember  when  that  Tenderfoot  made 
his  first  appearance  at  the  ranch  house.  It 
was  a  black  night  like  this,  an'  comin'  into  the 
light  he  couldn't  see  very  well  and  batted  his 
head  against  them  very  identical  chunks  of 
'dobe.  Not  bein'  accustomed  in  Manhat- 
tan, (as  he  called  Noo  York,)  to  a  ceiling 
that  sagged  in  the  middle  an'  laid  for 
strangers,  he  sized  up  the  man-trap  for  a  smart 
joke  of  ours  an'  tried  to  take  it  like  a  game 
one. 


276 


WESTERN  FIELD 


"  Wry  clever,  gentlemen,'  he  chirps,  brush- 
ing the  dust  from  his  bran  new  sombrero  an' 
straightening  his  rimless  eyeglasses.  As  he 
said  them  words  he  smiled  till  you  couldn't 
hardly  see  his  face  for  his  pretty  white  teeth. 
He  reminded  me  of  a  Susydon't  ad.  In  a  way 
he  was  soft.  He  had  big  blue  eyes  like  you 
don't  often  see  on  these  squintin'  range 
riders  and  his  face  was  all  pink  an'  white,  but 
on  a  second  look  I  made  up  my  mind  that  the 
softness  was  all  on  the  outside  of  his  head. 
I  sorta  took  to  him  at  the  second  look. 

"  'Why  stranger,  you  don't  reckon  we'd  be 
such  a  bunch  of  goats  as  to  put  up  a  job  like 
that  on  a  man !'  says  Kinnear.  'I've  been  car- 
latin'  to  fix  that  there  place  fer  months  and 
months,  but  I  jes'  kep'  fergettin'  until  at  last 
the  boys  learned  to  dodge  it,  an'  then  I  plumb 
fergot  it.  Take  a  chair,  sir,  an'  set  up  to  the 
fire.  Had  your  supper?  It  won't  take  but  a 
minute  to  git  you  some  coffee.' 

"The  Tenderfoot  said  he'd  a'ready  et  his 
supper,  but  when  he  heard  that  Mastadon  was 
eight  miles  further  down  the  San  Pedro  and 
on  the  wrong  side  of  the  river  he  said  yes, 
he'd  be  pleased  to  stay  all  night,  so  Kinnear 
told  Reddy  to  look  after  the  stranger's  pony. 

"He  was  not  ezackly  shy,  that  Tenderfoot, 
but  he  was  not  much  of  a  talker  neither,  so  he 
answered  short  an'  sweet  a  few  neighborly 
questions ;  he  'lowed  he  was  from  Manhattan, 
an'  out  here  to  size  up  the  country.  We  asked 
him  what  sort  of  a  place  Manhattan  was,  an' 
was  so  surprised  to  hear  of  a  town  of  that 
size  bein'  unbeknown  to  any  of  us, — till  he  let 
out  that  it  was  Noo  York  he  meant, — that  we 
clean  fergot  to  ask  what  his  business  might 
be.  We  sorta  judged  he  was  a  lawyer.  He 
gradually  settled  back  in  the  shadow  till  we 
a'most  fergot  he  was  there,  but  at  last  a 
story  called  'The  Roughest  Ride  of  Rough- 
Rider  Bill'  showed  up  the  real  stuff  there  was 
in  the  man. 

"Hawkins  was  readin'  us  the  yarn  from  a 
magazine  he'd  picked  up  in  Mastadon.  Same 
kind  of  a  cow-puncher  yarn  as  you  find  in 
every  magazine  an'  Sunday  paper  as  blows 
out  this  way.  It  was  wrote  by  a  man  named 
Botts.  Durin'  the  readin'  Reddy  squirms  in 
his  chair  and  at  last  says,  disgusted  like, 
'Shucks,  that  feller  hadn't  oughter  be  allowed 
to  write  them  things  about  us  folks  in  the 
Territory.  People  won't  think  as  how  we've 
got  good  sense  when  they  read  that  kinda 
doin's.     An'  look  at  the  way  he's  got  things 


twisted.  He  ain't  got  a  danged  thing  called 
by  its  name.  Listen  to  this:  'Rough-rider 
Bill  stood  on  the  marble  steps  of  his  alkali 
flat  listening  to  the  last  gasp  of  the  janitor 
whose  neglect  of  the  steam  heat  had  so  fatally 
annoyed  him.  When  the  death  rattle  had 
stilled  in  the  throat  of  his  victim,  he  carefully 
buttoned  on  his  spurs  and  bear-skin  chaparrals 
for  he  knew  a  long,  hot  ride  across  the  desert 
was  before  him.  With  a  parting  whoop  he 
threw  himself  on  the  back  of  his  pinto,  a  black 
poncho  with  not  a  single  white  hair  on  its 
wiry  little  body,  and  emptying  his  six-shooter 
defiantly  at  a  passing  street  car,  he  was  off 
like  a  shot  across  the  camisa.  Dashing  his 
cruel  sombreros  into  the  ribs  of  his  fiery 
animal  and  lashing  it  furiously  with  his  squirt, 
he  was  but  a  distant  speck  upon  the  wide 
suhuaro  when  the  sheriff  first  gave  chase.' 

"'Now  what  d'ye  think  o'  that!'  says  Reddy. 

"  'That  writer  man  was  sure  locoed,'  says 
Geoghegan,  takin'  a  bite  off  his  plug. 

"Then  the  Tenderfoot  spoke  up.  'What's 
the  matter  with  the  story?'  says  he.  'I  sh'd 
say  it  was  a  very  sperrited  description.' 

"  'Oh,  it's  sperrited,  all  right,'  answered 
Reddy;  'what  I  mean  ter  say  is  I  don't  think 
it's  quite  akkerate.  Fer  instance  a  alkali  flat 
with  marble  steps  an'  a  janitor,  even  a  dead 
one,  don't  seem  nateral  out  here.  An'  I  never 
heard  of  a  feller  buttoning  chaparral  brush 
onto  hisself  before  takin'  a  long  ride,  ner  of 
a  man  ridin'  a  poncho  nohow,  ner  of  a  pinto 
that  was  all  of  a  color.  Why,  man,  that's 
what  pinto  means :  a  spotted  critter.' 

"  'Oh,  these  are  mere  trifles,'  the  Tender- 
foot replied  waving  his  white  lily  fingers 
airily,  'I  presume  some  ponchos  are  tame 
enough  for  a  real  rough-rider  to  mount,  and  the 
pinto  in  question  may  have  been  spotted  in- 
ternally ;  the  author  says  nothing  to  the  con- 
trary.' 

"  'Yes,  but  stranger,  this  feller  goes  on  to 
state  that  Rough-rider  Bill,  as  darkness  falls, 
hitches  his  faithful  animal  to  the  limb  of  a 
maverick.  Do  you  realize  that  a  maverick 
ain't  a  tree  an'  it  ain't  a  hitchin'  post ;  it's  a 
name  we  Arizonians  and  Texicans  give  to 
wild,  unbranded  cattle.' 

"  'I  know,  I  know, — I  mean,  the  author 
knows,'  replied  the  Tenderfoot,  gettin'  red  in 
the  face.  'What  he  doubtless  meant  was  that 
Rough-rider  Bill  had  lassoed  a  maverick  by  a 
limb.  You  mustn't  take  literachure  too  liter- 
ally.' 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


277 


"  'But  wait  a  minute ;  he  goes  on  to  say- 
that  the  outlaw  made  his  frugal  supper  off  a 
few  prickly  pears  and  a  dried  olla,  from  which 
he  carefully  removed  the  podrida.  Now  I'll 
not  dispute  the  prickly  pears,  though  I've 
never  et  'em  myself,  but  when  you  happen  to 
know  that  a  olla  is  a  water  pot  made  of  clay,  I 
don't  see  how  you  can  expect  folks  to  believe 
that  a  man  et  a  dried  olla  for  supper.' 

"  'Look  here,  my  friend,'  says  the  Tender- 
foot, sharp  like,  'you  can't  jump  at  conclu- 
sions: I  don't  assert, — I  mean,  the  author 
don't  assert  that  the  outlaw  et  the  olla.  You 
admit  that  a  olla  may  be  dry,  don't  you?' 
"  'Sure,  when  there's  no  water  in  it.' 
"  'Exactly !  Well,  what  the  author  meant 
was  that  Rough-rider  Bill  had  no  water  to 
go  with  his  prickly  pears.  That's  reasonable 
[to  any   unprejudiced   mind.' 

"I  thought  to  myself  as  how  his  explana- 
tions was  perty  far  fetched,  an'  was  just 
opening  my  mouth  to  say  so,  when  Kinnear 
;says,  'Aw,  let  up,  Reddy,  what's  the  use  of  dis- 
putin'.  Any  one  can  see  as  how  that  writer 
man  was  never  in  these  parts.  Why  he  has 
the  spotless  pinto  go  locoed  on  sage  brush, 
an'  a  swarm  of  mesquites  singin'  an'  stingin' 
poor  Bill  till  he  can't  sleep,  an'  next  day  he 
gets  killed  in  a  saloon  kept  by  a  Indian.  Say, 
I  bet  that  feller  was  never  west  of  the  Missis- 
sippi.' 

"  'In  course  he  wa'n't,'  yaps  out  Reddy, 
Tve  got  ten  dollars  says  he  wa'n't  never  west 
of  Chicago.' 

"  'I've  got  twenty  says  he  wa'n't  never  west 
;f  Noo  Jersey,'  says  I. 

"  'Keep  your  small  change,'  says  the  Tender- 
foot, 'I've  got  two  hundred  dollars  says  the 
author  of  that  yarn  was  right  here  in  the 
Territory.' 

"We  all  yelled  an'  hooted  at  that  an'  was 
,crazy  to  take  him  up,  but  when  we  come  to 
dig  into  our  overalls  there  wa'n't  but  a  hun- 
dred ninety-seven  dollars  an'  thirty-five  cents 
between  us.  Howsomever  the  Tenderfoot 
said  he'd  let  it  go  at  that  an'  wrote  in  his 
pocket  book  what  each  man  had  chipped  in. 

"Then  he  gave  the  whole  works,  two  hun- 
dred-dollar bills  an'  a  double  handful  of  silver 
mixed  with  small  gold  an'  dirty  little  green- 
backs to  Cock-eye,  there,  to  hold,  he  bein'  the 
only  man  as  didn't  speculate,  havin'  blowed 
in  all  his  pay. 


" 'How'll  we  settle  this  bet?'  says  the 
Tenderfoot. 

"  'Write  to  the  magazine  editor,'  suggests 
Hawkins. 

"  T  wouldn't,'  says  the  Tenderfoot,  with  a 
sad,  sweet  smile.  'The  letter  would  go  among 
the  submitted  manuscripts  an'  you'd  be  a 
month  or  two  gettin'  an  answer,  an'  like  as 
not  when  you  did,  it  would  be  a  printed  slip 
sayin'  "The  return  of  your  MS.  is  not  to  be 
taken  as  a  reflection  on  its  literary  merits,  an' 
the  editor  desires  to  thank  you  for  the  privil- 
ege of  examining  the  same." ' 

"  'Sho,  now !  That's  no  way  to  answer  a 
man,'  says  Kinnear.  'An'  what's  more,  Cock- 
eye couldn't  keep  the  loose  change  fer  a  month. 
Not  but  what  he's  honest,  but  it's  agin  human 
natur.  How'd  it  do  to  communercate  with 
this  here  writer  man,  Mister  Botts?  Maybe 
he'd  be  some  quicker  an'  to  the  point.' 

"We  all  agreed  to  this,  an'  to  relieve  our 
minds  of  suspense,  an'  Cock-eye  of  temptation, 
we  decided  to  telegraph,  an'  Hawkins  was  fer 
ridin'  to  town  at  onct. 

"  'One  moment,  gentlemen !'   says   the  Ten- 
derfoot, "I  understand  you  wish  to  leave  the 
decision    with    the    author   as    to    whether    he 
was  ever  in  Arizona.' 
"  'Sure,  that's  it,'  we  answered. 
"  'And  his  word  will  be  considered  sufficient 
proof?' 
"  'It  will.' 

"  'In  that  case  I  can  save  you  the  trouble  of 
wiring,'  he  says,  an'  with  a  very  perlite  bow 
handed  Kinnear  his  pocket  book. 

"We  found  his  name  on  the  return  ticket, 
'Algernon  Oscar  Botts,'  an'  the  same  on  his 
letters  an'  callin'  cards,  which  Cock-eye  Geo- 
ghegan  thought  was  circumstantial  evidence 
enough  to  hang  a  man,  an'  passed  over  the 
stakes  accordin'. 

"In  the  course  of  the  evenin'  Mr.  Botts  ad- 
mitted that  the  story  of  'The  Roughest  Rough 
Ride  of  Rough-rider  Bill'  was  composed 
mostly  on  a  Fifth  Avenue  'Bus,  an'  he  thought 
some  of  correctin'  a  few  triflin'  errors  in  loco 
color  before  the  yarn  come  out  in  book  form. 
He  was  real  pleased  at  gettin'  the  hundred  an' 
ninety-seven  dollars  an'  thirty-five  cents,  said 
it  was  four  times  what  he'd  cleared  on  the 
story,  allowin'  for  paper,  ink  an'  stamps. 

'Fer  a  Tenderfoot,  an'  a  writer  man  at  that, 
he  was  perty  bright,  /  sh'd  say." 


By  Harry  H.  Dunn. 


HE  call  of  the  sea  has  been  very 
strong  in  my  veins  for  some 
weeks  now ;  I  have  wanted  to 
go  fishin',  to  lie  at  length  on 
the  hot  sand  while  the  lance- 
wood,  butt  set  in  beach  and  a 
hundred  feet  of  line  atrail 
through  the  surf,  throbbed  to 
the  rhythm  and  the  roll  of  the 
rim  of  the  sea  and  now  and 
again  bent  to  some  stronger  pull. 

But  if  wishes  came  true  all  beggars  would 
ride,  you  know,  and  I  haven't  been  able 
to  get  away  from  the  grind  long  enough  to 
try  the  surf  or  the  yellowfin  yet — and  as  I 
write  the  calendar  tells  me  it  is  near  the 
middle  of  June.  And  I'm  going  soon ;  maybe 
tomorrow,  maybe  not  for  a  week,  but  it  is 
bound  to  come  even  if  I  have  to  kill  off 
another  grandmother  (in  my  mind)  to  get 
away  from  the  office  for  a  day. 

When  I  can't  fish  I  think  of  fishing,  of  the 
fish  I  have  caught  and  how.  Not  the  least 
of  these  is  the  how;  and  of  the  hows,  the 
question  of  bait  is  uppermost  with  all  of  us 
who  catch  the  fish  we  go  after  and  do  not 
take  a  chance  on  catching  any  old  thing  from 
sculpin  to  yellowtail. 

Of  course,  I  am  talking  about  sea  fishing. 
The  trout  fisher's  game  I  don't  know  much 
about,  though  I  admit  it  is  all  he  claims  for 
it,  and  into  his  discussion  of  flies  and  spoons 
I  cannot  enter  with  vim  enough  to  give  him 
a  good  argument.  But  I  have  learned  some- 
thing, not  much  but  a  little,  about  the  luring 
of  sea  fish  to  the  hook,  and  when  I  have  time 
and  the  inclination  to  think  I  sometimes  think 
of  them. 
Taken    all    in    all,    given    their    habitat   and 


SOME  BAITS 

I    HAVE 

USED 


their  endowment  with  what  we  know  as  brains, 
fishes  are  about  as  wise  as  the  four-feet  when 
it  comes  to  outplaying  man  in  the  game  in 
which  their  lives  are  the  stake.  This  being 
the  case,  it  is  not  alone  necessary  that  the 
angler  who  would  be  successful  should  know 
what  baits  to  use,  but  how  to  use  them. 

There  is  a  right  way  and  a  wrong  way  to 
put  the  smelt  on  your  hook  when  you  go 
after  yellowtail;  there  is  a  right  way  and  a 
wrong  way  to  fasten  the  flying  fish  or  squid 
to  your  barbed  trap  when  you  want  to  get  a 
tuna  or  a  black  sea  bass,  and  for  every  kind 
of  fish  that  swims  the  sea  there  is  a  different 
bait;  nine  times  out  of  ten  it  is  the  only  bait 
he  will  touch,  being  the  food  for  which  he 
travels  many  miles  beneath  the  sea  in  order 
that  his  appetite  may  be  satisfied. 

For  instance :  I  went  fishing  for  mackerel 
one  day,  out  in  a  boat  about  half  a  mile  from 
shore.  I  had  clam,  live  sardines,  fresh  mack- 
erel for  bait.  Supposedly  a  strip  from  the 
side  of  a  freshly  killed  mackerel  is  the  best 
bait  in  the  world  for  other  mackerel.  I  found 
the  sea  full  of  the  blue-sided  fish,  all  lazily 
swimming  about,  doing  nothing,  going  no- 
where. 

I  tried  every  bait  I  had,  and  did  not  get  a 
strike.  Then  the  boatman  produced  a  strip  of 
red  flannel  from  a  locker  in  one  end  of  the 
launch,  tore  off  a  long,  narrow  pennon,  and 
said :  "Try  this."  I  did,  and  the  only  reason  I 
did  not  catch  all  the  mackerel  in  the  Pacific  was 
that  I  had  no  use  for  them  and  could  not  have 
pulled  them  in. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


279 


The  strike  of  the  mackerel  on  this  occasion 

I  was  almost  like  a  trout;  when  one  of  the  fish 
passed  up  the  red  rag  drawn  slowly  through 
the  water  past  his  nose,  another  seized  it  with 

\  a  rush  that  made  the  reel  sing.  Some  of 
these  weighed  up  to  five  pounds,  and  they  put 
up  a   right   lively  fight  out  there  in  the   sun- 

.  shine   and   the   sea. 

In  like  manner  I  have  taken  mackerel  on  a 
large  red  fly,  when  they  would  not  bite  at 
anything  else,  and  fly-fishing  in  the  sea  is  a 
novel  experience.  There  the  fly-caster,  fishing 
from  a  small  open  boat,  launch  or  rowboat, 
has  all  the  world,  practically,  in  which  to 
make  his  casts,  and  there  is  no  overhanging 
brush   to  entangle  the  fly  when  it  goes  back 

i  over  his  shoulder. 

This  kind  of  fishing,  however,  whether  it 
be  with  rag  or  with  fly,  requires  not  a  little 
work.    The  game  is  to  cast  out  and  reel  in, 

:  cast  out  and  reel  in,  until  you  get  a  strike. 
You  may  do  this  a  dozen  times  without  a 
single  note  from  the  reel,  and  then  on  the 
thirteenth  time  you  may  have  a  fight  of  half 
an  hour,  if  your  tackle  is  light  enough,  with 

[some  fat  old  cornfed  who  strenuously  objects 
to  being  hauled  in  head  first. 

I  I,  too,  like  the  bone  jig  as  a  lure.  There  is 
nothing   to   the   attaching   this   to   your   line; 

'you  merely  fasten  it  on,  trail  it  over  the  stern 
of  your  launch  at  the  speed  you  think  best 
and  if  a  hungry  barracuda  or  yellowtail  or 
bonita    comes    along    you    get    him,    provided 

jyou  know  how  to  play  the  fish  after  he  is 
hooked.  When  the  water  is  clear  and  the 
launch  is  not  running  too  fast,  the  strike  of 
the  barracuda  at  a  moving  bone  jig  is  one  of 
the  prettiest   sights   in   all   the   fishing  world. 

It  compares  with  the  drop  of  the  osprey  into 

:he  school  of  mackerel;   with  his   rise,  laden 

'With  a  fish  and  his  bronze  wings  shimmering 

;n  the  morning  sun. 

'  Like  a  ray  of  black  lightning — if  such 
inachronism  were  possible — the  barracuda 
tomes  out  of  the  sea,  never  pauses  an  instant 
n  his  rush,  snaps  up  the  jig  and  turns  away 
vith  it.  And  just  about  then  is  the  time  for 
he  fisherman  to  get  busy,  and  if  he  has  a  light 
od  he  is  apt  to  have  his  hands  full,  for  all 
he  contempt  sportsmen  fishermen  have  for 
his  long  gar  of  the  sea. 

But  when  it  comes  to  using  live  bait,  smelt 
*  anchovies  or  the  so-called  sardines,  there 
is  a  real  art  in  attaching  them  to  the  hook. 
The  small  fish  bait  should  be  entered  through 


the  mouth  with  the  hook,  which  should  be 
worked  down  through  him  until  the  tip  of  the 
barb  can  be  brought  out  of  his  belly.  Then 
close  the  mouth  of  your  bait  over  the  shank 
of  the  hook  and  wrap  with  a  turn  or  two  of 
silk  thread.  Some  anglers  use  wire,  I  prefer 
silk.  Your  fish  then  looks  and  moves  more 
like  life  than  any  bait  possibly  can  which 
is  hooked  through  the  back  or  the  side  of 
the  head  indiscriminately. 

The  squid  is  a  difficult  proposition  to  put  on 
any  hook,  big  or  little,  and  the  average  sea 
fisherman  can  take  a  lesson  worth  while  from 
the  market  anglers  who  frequent  Catalina 
or  San  Pedro  or  any  other  of  the  beaches 
whence  men  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships. 
Nine  times  out  of  ten  anyhow  your  squid 
comes  off  the  hook,  and  trolling  with  a  squid 
is  not  half  the  easy  trick  it  looks  when  you 
see  some  experienced  hand  take  a  line  and  go 
flying  down  the  channel  with  a  squid  atrail. 

There  isn't  much  to  the  hooking  of  a  hunk 
of  white  fish  or  a  whole  mackerel  on  your 
line  to  bait  a  black  sea  bass  up  out  of  the 
depths,  but  if  you  put  that  same  mackerel  on 
alive  and  go  after  a  shark  with  him,  you  will 
probably  have  your  hands  full,  not  alone  to 
land  the  shark,  but  to  keep  a  two  or  three 
pound  bait  on  your  hook  as  well. 

Even  for  the  little  fish,  comparatively  speak- 
ing, there  is  a  great  deal  in  the  way  you  put 
the  hook  into  your  bait,  whether  it  be  sand 
crab,  a  gob  of  clam,  or  a  bit  of  long-deceased 
lobster.  I  am  convinced  that  a  yellowfin,  run- 
ning in  surf,  will  bite  more  often  at  a  sand 
crab  which  completely  conceals  the  hook, 
presenting  at  the  same  time  an  appearance 
of  life,  than  it  will  at  the  same  sand  crab  with 
the  hook  stuck  roughly  through,  and  present- 
ing all  the  appearances  of  a  "dead  one." 

The  great  trick  with  lobster,  which  is  the 
best  bait  for  pompano  and  some  other  small 
fish,  is  to  keep  it  on  your  hook  at  all,  but  there 
are  days  when  the  pompano  are  running  when 
they  will  bite  at  nothing  but  lobster,  so  there 
you  are. 

The  flying  fish  as  a  bait  for  tuna — and  these 
gossamer  "winged"  fish  are  the  best  of  all 
bait  for  the  giant  leapers — is  often  dead  when 
used,  but  quite  as  often  alive.  Dead  or  alive, 
it  should  be  attached  to  the  hook  by  the  same 
process  as  described  for  the  smelt  and  the 
small  mackerel. 

Then,  when  drawn  through  the  water,  or 
allowed  to  go  down  into  the  depths,  the  flying 


280 


WESTERN  FIELD 


fish  presents  the  appearance  of  life  more 
closely  than  any  other  bait  fish.  And  when  the 
tuna  strikes,  the  angler  is  quite  sure  that  he 
has  something  very  much  alive  ahold  of  that 
flying  fish. 

A  list  of  the  baits  on  the  South  Coast  would 
be  practically  endless;  I  have  seen  grave  fisher- 
men using  angleworms,  and  they  told  me  that 
they  caught  fish  with  them,  too;  I  have  seen 


equally  grave  men  putting  anisesccd  oil  on 
their  bait,  and  I  remember  one  old  fellow  who 
would  never  cast  off  the  wharf  without  first 
spitting  on  his  lure,  so  strong  is  the  hold 
superstition  has  on  some  men. 

But  the  principal  list  of  baits,  and  the  fishes 
for  which  they  are  used,  is  about  as  follows: 
Clam — all  sorts  of  inshore  fish,  and  some  of 
the  rock  fish  of  deeper  waters;  flying  fish- 
tuna;  whitefish,  mackerel,  liver,  and  raw  meat 
— black  sea  bass;  smelt,  anchovies,  sardines, 
young  mackerel  (all  alive)— tuna,  white  sea 
bass,  yellowtail,  albicore,  barracuda,  halibut 
and  deep  sea  fish  of  other  and  rarer  kinds; 
sand  crabs— surf  fish  and  yellowfin,  with 
occasional  surf  perch,  which  latter  are  prac- 
tically worthless;  lobster,  shark,  stingray— 
pompano  and  jack  smelt. 


"Something  Very  Much  Alive. 


LIGHT-TACKLE  SEA-FISHING 


By  Arthur  Jerome   Eddy. 


ROM  the  narrow  street  below  my 
window  comes  a  sound  of 
voices;  a  group  of  men  are 
talking  fishing,  and  one  asks; 
"Do  you   use   light  tackle?" 

Another  replies ;  "You  bet 
your  life !  Bought  an  outfit  to- 
day." 

"That's     right,    nothing    else 
goes  here  now." 
On     the    hotel    verandah    this     morning    a 
woman  said  sharply  to  her  husband; 

"You  needn't  give  me  a  heavy  stick  again, 
I  want  to  fish  with  something  that  counts." 

Her  husband  had  given  her  heavy  tackle 
while  he  used  light ;  he  caught  a  "button"  fish 
and  was  greatly  elated ;  she  had  landed  a 
bigger  one,  but  got  no  button,  on  account  of 
her  tackle,  and  was  highly  indignant. 

On  the  boat  crossing  from  the  mainland  to 
Catalina  one  hears  nothing  but  light  tackle 
talk,  and  sees  nothing  but  light  tackle  equip- 
ment. The  dealers  handle  little  else,  and 
advertise  it  as  made  to  meet  the  requirements 
of  the  Light  Tackle  Club.  Each  autumn  before 
ordering  goods  for  the  following  season  they 
write  the  secretary  of  the  Club  asking  if  there 
will  be  any  changes  in  the  specifications. 

At  the  close  of  the  season  in  1907,  less  than 
one  year  and  six  months  after  its  organization, 
the  Catalina  Light  Tackle  Club  had  over  400 
members,  each  of  whom  had  duly  qualified  by 
landing  a  game  fish  of  not  less  than  twenty 
pounds  weight,  with  a  standard  nine-strand 
line,  and  a  wood  rod  not  exceeding  sixteen 
ounces  in  weight,  butt  included.  In  nearly 
every  instance  the  rod  did  not  exceed  nine 
ounces.  Of  these  members,  56  earned  a  silver 
button  by  landing  a  game  fish  the  weight  of 
which  was  not  less  than  45  lbs.,  and  15 
qualified  for  gold  buttons  by  getting  a  fish  of 
not  less  than  60  lbs. 

All  this  has  been  accomplished  and  the  sport 
of  sea-fishing  in  the  waters  of  Southern  Cali- 
fornia completely  revolutionized  in  a  little  over 
two  years ;   to  be  exact,   since   the   spring  of 


1905,  when  the  writer  gave  a  silver  cup  to  be 
contested  for  on  the  following  conditions ; 

Open  to  rods  (not  metal)  six  feet  and  over, 
weighing  not  more  than  sixteen  ounces  (butt 
included),  and  nine-thread  line  of  any  standard 
make.  For  rod  weighing  less  than  sixteen 
ounces  an  allowance  of  ten  per  cent,  added  to 
the  weight  of  fish  will  be  made  for  each  ounce 
under  the  sixteen  ounces,  so  that  a  rod  of 
twelve  ounces,  for  instance,  would  be  entitled 
to  an  addition  of  forty  per  cent,  to  the  weight 
of  the  catch,  and  so  on." 

The  following  year  when  the  club  was  orga- 
nized the  conditions  were  changed  so  as  to 
allow  only  five  per  cent,  for  each  ounce  the 
rod  weighed  under  sixteen,  and  the  following 
provision  added: 

"As  it  is  not  the  desire  to  encourage  the  use 
of  freak  tackle,  no  additional  allowance  will  be 
made  for  rods  under  nine  ounces,  but  if  used 
they  will  be  weighed  as  nine  ounces.  No  fish 
weighing  less  than  twenty  pounds  will  be 
weighed  in." 

That  was  the  beginning  of  systematic  light 
tackle  sea-fishing.  The  term  "systematic"  is 
used  advisedly,  for  many  a  big  sea-fish  has 
been  caught  on  rods  lighter  than  those  speci- 
fied. 

That  it  is  perfectly  easy  to  land  large  game 
fbh  with  a  very  light  fly-casting  rod  has  been 
demonstrated  again  and  again  in  Catalina 
waters  and  elsewhere.  Henshell  caught  a  tar- 
pon with  an  8  oz.  bass  casting  rod,  and  im- 
mediately set  the  "silver  king"  down  as  quite 
beneath  the  notice  of  a  real  sportsman — a 
bit  of  fresh  water  prejudice.  Most  of  these 
phenomenal  catches  have  been  made  when  the 
fisherman  was  after  small  game  and  un- 
expectedly hooked  onto  large. 

It  is  not  the  sporadic  landing  of  a  large  fish 
on  very  light  tackle  that  makes  a  man  a  light- 
tackle  fisherman.  The  status  of  the  angler  is 
determined,  not  by  what  he  uses  occasionally, 
or  in  competition,  but  by  what  he  likes  to  use 
and  habitually  does  use.  He  may  talk  light 
tackle,  but  if  he  uses  heavy,  no  matter  under 


282 


WESTERN  FIELD 


what  pretext,  he  belongs  to  the  heavy  tackle 
class.  In  other  words  a  man's  status  is  de- 
termined not  by  the  lightest  tackle  he  uses 
lint  bj  the  heaviest  If  he  fishes  with  a  ninc- 
thread  line  one  day  and  a  twenty-one  for  the 
same  fish  the  next,  the  latter  is  his  brand ;  or 
if  he  uses  a  9  oz.  rod  until  he  gets  a  'button' 
or  record  fish,  and  then  reverts  to  a  heavier 
rod,  the  latter  is  his  real  preference. 

Light-tackle  fishing  is  not  the  freak,  fluke, 
or  sporadic  use  of  lighter  equipment  than  a 
man  really  and  honestly  cares  for.  It  is  the 
systematic,  habitual  and  pleasurable  use  of 
tackle  so  proportioned  to  the  fish  sought  as  to 
give  the  latter  not  less  than  three  chances  out 
of  five  to  get  away  against  the  most  skillful 
work  on  the  part  of  the  angler. 

When  a  man  uses  light  tackle  systematically 
and  habitually,  and  gets  out  of  it  so  much 
pleasure  that  he  does  not  care  to  own  or  use 
heavy,  he  belongs  to  the  light  tackle  fraternity ; 
and  the  fraternity  is  confined  to  men  of  that 
sort. 

Two  years  ago  the  boatman  furnished  only 
heavy  tackle,  now  the  rent  of  the  launch  in- 
cludes the  use  of  very  good  light  tackle.  Need- 
less to  say,  if  the  inexperienced  angler  breaks 
rod  or  loses  line  he  is  expected  to  pay  for  it, 
and  now  and  then  a  tyro  pays  a  good  round 
price  for  a  worn  line  or  worthless  rod.  It 
is  astonishing,  however,  how  little  tackle  is 
lost.  The  boatmen  handle  their  launches  so 
skillfully  they  manage  to  relieve  the  strain  and 
assist  the  novice. 

The  requirement  of  only  a  20  lb.  fish  to 
secure  the  Club's  bronze  button  was  made  low 
and  easy  to  induce  everybody  to  try,  and  thus 
make  the  use  of  heavy  tackle  unpopular.  While 
many  have  qualified  for  membership  who  care 
little  or  nothing  about  fishing,  and  some  who, 
no  doubt,  will  revert  to  heavy  tackle  in  the 
desire  to  'catch  a  boat-load',  the  net  gain  in 
the  interest  of  sport  has  been  enormous.  The 
movement  has  made  such  marvellous  strides 
that  in  the  waters  about  Southern  California 
a  man  is  ashamed  to  confess  he  uses  larger 
than  a  nine-thread  line  for  any  fish  under 
100  pounds,  but  the  rod  is  still  a  burning 
question. 

A  line  is  simply  a  question  of  strength,  the 
rod  is  a  part  of  the  angler ;  and  many  a  man, 
accustomed  to  the  use  of  long  butts  and  almost 
unbreakable  tips,  cannot  handle  a  light  rod 
with  any  comfort  at  all. 

Tackle   is   the   connecting  link  between  the 


angler  and  the  fish,  and  as  such  it  bears  a 
double  relation.  It  must  be  properly  propor- 
tioned to  the  man  at  one  end  and  the  fish  at 
the  other.  Heretofore  the  man  consulted  his 
own  ease  and  pleasure,  with  the  result  that 
lines  were  made  so  strong,  rods  so  heavy,  and 
reels  so  automatic,  that  about  all  the  fisher- 
man had  to  do  was  sit  still  and  "hang  on",  the 
fish,  if  fairly  well  hooked,  had  scarce  one 
chance  in  a  hundred  to  get  away.  The  angler 
sat  in  a  comfortable  chair,  rested  the  long 
heavy  butt  of  the  rod  in  a  seat-socket  between 
his  legs,  grasped  the  handle  of  the  huge  reel — 
a  veritable  "winch"  as  the  English  call  them — 
and  literally  all  he  had  to  do  when  the  fish 
strikes  is  hang  on.  The  automatic  drag  in 
reel  or  handle  soon  checks  the  fish,  the  boat- 
man deftly  handles  the  boat  so  the  man  who 
thinks  he  is  doing  the  fishing  is  always  kept  in 
a  position  of  advantage,  and  the  unequal  con- 
test goes  on  between  two  men  equipped  with 
powerful  tackle  and  patent  mechanical  devices 
at  one  end  and  just  a  simple  fish  fighting  for 
his  life  at  the  other.  Now  that  is  neither  fair 
nor  sport;  it  comes  so  near  fishing  for 
market  that  the  market  fishermen  are  only  too 
glad  to  arrange  in  advance  for  the  fish  brought 
in.  It  is  easier  than  hand-lining,  slower  than 
seining. 

The  use  of  light  tackle  is  an  attempt  to  so 
proportion  the  connecting  link  between  man 
and  fish  that  the  latter  will  have  at  least  an 
even  chance,  while  the  true  sportsman  will  go 
a  step  farther  and  make  sure  the  odds  favor 
the  game. 

The  true  love  of  sport  is  a  matter  of  cultiva- 
tion, it  is  not  innate.  A  man's  natural  bent  is 
to  make  sure  of  his  game — to  kill — and  the 
natural  tendency  is  to  increase  and  develop 
the  efficiency  of  tools  and  means  until  the 
game  cannot  get  away,  and  this  tendency  is 
as  strong  and  obvious  in  hunting  as  in  fish- 
ing, it  is  the  animal  instinct  asserting  itself 
in  man's  pleasures.  Strictly  speaking  man  has 
no  sporting  instinct,  and  sportsmen  are  made, 
not  born.  The  more  a  boy  loves  hunting  and 
fishing  the  greater  the  necessity  for  taking 
him  in  hand  early  to  make,  if  possible,  a  true 
sportsman  out  of  him.  If  not  caught  and 
tamed  young  the  chances  are  he  will  remain 
a  slaughterer  all  his  life. 

One  has  but  to  read  the  books  and  narra- 
tives of  men — and  of  some  very  eminent  men — 
to  see  how  far  removed  they  are  from  being 
real     sportsmen,     how     they     revel    in     mere 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


283 


slaughter,  how  keen  they  are  to  fill  their 
bag,  to  kill  to  the  limit  of  the  law's  restric- 
tions. Their  pages  inspire  others  to  go  and 
do  likewise,  to  go  out  with  equipment  so 
perfect,  so  automatic,  so  deadly,  and  with 
guides  and  helpers  so  numerous  and  skilful 
that  the  game  once  sighted  has  no  chance 
whatsoever. 

The  sportsmanlike  instinct  is  a  refinement  of 
the  natural,  it  is  the  development  of  the  desire 
for  fair  play  in  contests  of  every  nature, 
whether  between  man  and  man  or  between 
man  and  bird,  or  beast,  or  fish. 

Sport  in  its  true  sense  implies  human  par- 
ticipation in  the  contest,  and  the  true  sports- 
man is  he  who  not  only  waives  every  advantage 
and  gives  his  opponent  the  odds,  but  in  the 
end  refrains  from  inflicting  any  greater  pain 
or  injury  than  is  necessarily  involved  in  the 
fair  persuit  of  the  game. 

To  return  to  the  subject  in  hand,  a  con- 
test between  angler  and  fish  upon  a  perfectly 
fair  basis  would  require  theoretically  the  re- 
adjustment of  the  tackle  to  each  fish  hooked, 
something  which  is  obviously  impossible.  Even 
when  reasonably  certain  of  hooking  but  one 
species  of  fish,  as  in  most  fresh-water  an- 
gling, conditions  vary  materially  with  every 
shifting  of  locality,  and  the  size  and  fighting 
qualities  of  the  fish  cannot  be  ascertained  be- 
forehand. In  salt-water  one  of  several 
varieties  of  fish  may  strike,  hence  the  greater 
the  difficulty  of  rightly  proportioning  the 
tackle. 

The  temptation  is  to  adapt  the  tackle  to  the 
heaviest  and  gamest  fish  that  may  by  any 
possibility  take  hold,  on  the  theory  that  it  is 
better  to  be  always  ready  for  the  "big  one", 
and  this  temptation  has  been  too  much  for  the 
great  fraternity  of  sea-anglers.  Many  talk 
light  tackle  but  they  use  heavy ;  they  decry 
handlines,  but  they  use  devices  which  make  the 
work  easier  than  hand-lining.  With  the 
ordinary  sea  rods,  reels  and  lines,  women  and 
children  who  have  never  fished  before  have  no 
trouble  in  landing  big  game  fish  which,  under 
fair  conditions,  would  cause  a  strong  and  skil- 
ful man  no  end  of  trouble. 

The  Tuna  Club  has  done  much  toward  the 
introduction  of  better  methods  in  the  taking 
of  large  game  fish;  it  does  not  permit  such 
heavy  tackle  as  is  often  used  for  tarpon,  and 
the  tuna  is  incomparably  the  stronger  fighter, 
though  not  so,  spectacular. 

But  the  tendency  to  proportion  tackle  to  the 


heaviest  possible  fish  prevails  in  the  waters 
where  the  tuna  and  black  sea-bass  (the 
monster  Jew-fish)  abound,  and  until  the  in- 
auguration of  the  light-tackle  movement  the 
boatmen  carried  only  clubs  and  21  or  24  strand 
lines,  and  people  visiting  Catalina  Island  fished 
for  such  superb  game  fish  as  yellow-tail,  white- 
sea-bass,  albicore,  and  even  white-fish  and 
rock-bass  with  these  ponderous  outfits.  It  was 
not  sport  but  slaughter.  It  was  a  common 
thing  for  boats  to  come  in  after  a  morning's 
work  with  forty  or  fifty  fine  fish,  all  taken 
by  tourists  who  made  no  pretense  of  being 
fishermen.  Children  would  land  fish  after  fish, 
without  losing  one,  until  their  arms  ached  and 
they  gave  up  from  exhaustion.  That  is  not 
fishing.  So  far  as  skill  is  concerned,  it  falls 
far  short  of  hand-lining  and  spearing. 

For  several  years  the  large  tuna  have  been 
scarce  in  Catalina  waters,  or  if  about,  they 
did  not  strike.  The  last  hundred-pounder  was 
landed  in  1904.  As  the  large  fish  disappeared, 
interest  in  fishing  died  out  to  an  appreciable 
extent.  Other  game  fish  were  plentiful  but 
people  soon  tired  of  taking  them  on  the  heavy 
tuna  tackle.  The  time  was  ripe  for  the  in- 
troduction of  the  systematic  use  of  light  tackle, 
and  with  its  introduction  the  sport  immediately 
revived.  Men  who  had  used  the  heavy  tackle 
all  their  lives  discovered,  to  their  surprise, 
that  even  tuna  could  be  landed  with  a  nine 
ounce  rod  and  a  nine-thread  line,  and  that  it 
was  incomparably  finer  sport  to  do  it.  Of 
course  four  out  of  five  of  the  larger  fish  may 
be  lost,  but  that  simply  adds  zest  to  the  game, 
for,  after  all,  the  fun  is  in  the  fishing  not  in 
catching  fish.  The  true  sportsman  salutes  the 
fish  that  gets  away,  gracefully  acknowledges 
his  defeat,  and  tries  again;  while  the  man  of 
professional  instincts  swears  at  the  escape  of 
his  prey. 

Up  to  a  certain  point  the  use  of  light,  as 
compared  with  heavy,  tackle  is  a  matter  of 
degree  rather  than  kind ;  beyond  a  certain  point 
it  is  a  departure  in  kind  rather  than  degree. 

Whether  a  man  uses  a  twenty-one,  a  twenty- 
four,  a  twenty-seven  or  a  larger  line;  or 
whether  he  uses  a  long  heavy  butt  with  a  tip 
of  twelve,  fourteen,  or  sixteen  ounces  is  all 
a  matter  of  taste,  the  differences  are  differences 
of  degree :  one  rod  is  lighter  than  another,  one 
line  smaller,  that  is  all;  the  manner  of  handling 
each  remains  essentially  the  same. 

The  use  of  a  nine  thread  line  and  a  nine 
ounce   rod   is,   however,   a   radical   departure, 


284 


WESTERN  FIELD 


radical  in  that  the  tackle  must  be  handled  in  a 
manner  fundamentally  different  from  that  in 
whicfa  the  heavy  is  handled.  A  light  rod  with 
a  short  butt  must  be  handled  with  a  free  hand  ; 
it  cannot  rest  in  a  seat  socket  and  much  of 
the  time  it  must  be  clear  of  even  a  belt-socket 
and  held  lightly,  free  of  the  body.  The  spring 
of  the  arms  is  as  important  as  the  spring  of 
the  rod  during  the  rushes  of  the  fish.  In  fight- 
ing a  big  game  fish  it  is  a  great  advantage  to 
stand  so  as  to  add  the  weight  and  flexibility  of 
the  body  to  the  strength  of  arms  and  rod. 
Muscles  are  brought  into  play  which  are  never 
called  upon  in  using  heavy  tackle,  the  strain 
is  greater,  the  fight  keener.  A  man  must  have 
not  only  far  greater  skill  and  judgment,  but  he 
must  have  a  quick  hand,  a  wrist  of  steel  and 
great  endurance  to  land  the  big  and  swift 
fish.  He  cannot  sit  still  and  hang  on,  he  must 
fight  his  fish  from  start  to  finish,  almost  un- 
aided by  the  manner  in  which  the  boatman 
handles  the  boat;  he  must  pass  his  rod  quickly 
from  side  to  side,  and  much  of  the  time  the 
tip  may  be  far  under  water  as  he  lowers  it 
either  to  pass  the  fish  under  the  boat  without 
releasing  pressure,  or  to  transfer  the  strain 
from  tip  to  line. 

The  use  of  light  tackle — as  distinguished 
from  the  use  of  merely  lighter  tackle — is  such 
a  fundamentally  different  sport  that  many  an 
old  sea-angler  balks  after  trying  it  for  a  time. 
His  habits  are  so  fixed  he  cannot  adjust  him- 
self with  any  comfort  to  the  altered  conditions ; 
he  tries  to  handle  a  nine  ounce  rod  as  he  did 
his  heavy,  and  complains  of  being  "all  cramped 
up",  the  short  butt  is  too  much  for  him ;  he 
misses  his  comfortable  seat,  his  long  heavy 
handle,  the  freedom  of  his  arms — in  short  the 
ease  with  which  he  used  to  take  his  fish ;  he 
tries  the  new  but  soon  reverts  to  the  old. 

It  is  the  fresh  water  angler  who  takes  most 
enthusiastically  to  the  short  butts  and  light 
rods ;  he  is  accustomed  to  them  and  they  appeal 
to  him ;  whereas  the  heavy  "billiard-cues" — as 
they  have  been  not  unappropriated  called — 
heretofore  used  in  sea-fishing  have  always 
struck  the  fresh  water  angler  as  crude  and 
barbarous  in  the  extreme,  so  crude  and  bar- 
barous that  he  has  always  been  inclined  to 
deny  that  salt-water  fishing  is  a  true  sport. 

Inasmuch,  however,  as  the  tackle  prescribed 
by  the  Light  Tackle  Club  for  powerful  game 
fish  is  lighter  than  the  tackle  commonly  used 
for  muskellonge,  and  as  light  as  that  often 
used  for  bass,  the  fresh-water  angler  is  now 


compelled  to  admit  that  sea-angling,  as  con- 
ducted in  the  waters  about  Catalina,  is  a  more 
"sporty"  proposition  than  a  good  deal  of  fresh 
water  angling  that  gets  into  print. 

The  use  of  a  nine  thread  line  for  such 
powerful  game  fish  as  abound  in  the  waters 
about  Catalina  is,  in  itself,  a  radical  departure; 
radical  in  that  the  line  requires  entirely  dif- 
ferent handling  from  that  required  by  the 
stronger  lines.  The  angler  cannot  "lie  back" 
on  it  and  just  pull,  he  cannot  snub  his  fish 
short,  or  even  perceptibly  check  a  fierce  rush. 
Throughout  the  contest  the  line  must  be 
humored,  the  spool  must  be  thumbed  with  the 
utmost  delicacy,  a  little  too  much  pressure  in- 
advertently applied  is  fatal,  an  automatic  drag 
is  a  dangerous  device.  Many  a  man  will  not 
use  a  leather  brake,  preferring  a  thin  thumb 
stall. 

Where  the  fish  are  so  strong  and  heavy  that 
300  yards  of  line  are  necessary,  and  hot  con- 
tests of  from  one  to  two  or  three  hours  are 
common,  it  goes  without  saying  the  line  is  a 
factor  to  be  considered,  and  a  line  so  light  as 
a  nine-thread  makes  all  the  difference  in  the 
world  in  the  sport. 

The  Southern  California  Rod  and  Reel  Club 
was  organized  in  1906.  As  its  enthusiastic 
secretary,  Mr.  Ellsworth  Salyer,  says  in  a  let- 
ter to  the  writer : 

"On  the  evening  of  Aug.  29,  1906,  a  little 
band  of  ardent  fishermen  met  in  the  music 
room  of  the  Los  Angeles  Athletic  Club  and 
organized  a  club  now  called  the  Southern 
California  Rod  &  Reel  Club.  Starting  with  a 
membership  of  a  little  more  than  twenty  it  has 
grown  to  the  magnificent  proportion  of  over 
two  hundred  members,  everyone  a  fisherman  to 
the  core."  Its  president  is  Mr.  Edw.  L.  Hed- 
derly,  who  never  loses  an  opportunity  to 
advance  the  cause  of  light  tackle  in  the 
columns  of  the  Los  Angeles  Times. 

As  its  members  are  scattered  along  the 
mainland  coast  where  conditions  in  fish  and 
fishing  are  very'  different,  the  Club  contented 
itself  with  prescribing  a  nine-strand  line,  leav- 
ing members  to  use  such  rods  as  they  pleased. 
It  was  believed,  and  with  no  little  reason,  that 
the  man  who  used  too  heavy  a  rod  handicapped 
himself  by  increasing  the  risk  of  parting  his 
line.  It  is  undoubtedly  true  that  unless  the 
correct  proportion  between  rod  and  line  is 
observed  the  chances  of  parting  the  line  are 
greatly  increased. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


285 


This  one  departure  has  revolutionized  fish- 
ing along  the  mainland,  and  much  credit  is 
due  the  club  for  the  manner  in  which  it  has 
handled  a  situation  difficult  on  account  of  the 
extraordinary  variety  of  fish  taken,  and  the 
different  conditions  under  which  they  are 
taken,  from  surf-casting  to  deep-sea  trolling. 
The  following  are  the  Club's  tournament  rules 
for  1907: 

"Class  1,  tuna.  Class  2,  yellowtail.  Class  3, 
white  sea  bass.  Class  4,  black  sea  bass.  Class 
5,  albicore.  Class  6,  striped  bass.  Class  7, 
spotfin  croaker.  Class  8,  corbina  (surf  fish). 
Class  9,  rock  bass.  Class  10,  yellowfin.  Class 
11,  mullet.    Class  12,  halibut. 

Light  tackle  is  defined  as  any  rod  measur- 
ing six  feet  in  length  or  over  when  set  up,  and 
a  standard  nine-thread  line  of  not  to  exceed 
20  pounds  breaking  strain.  Anglers  must  sub- 
mit fifteen  feet  of  their  line  for  testing  in  case 
of  question.   No  limit  on  weight  of  rods. 

At  Aransas  Pass  a  nine-thread  line  tarpon 
club  has  been  organized  and  the  movement  has 
spread  to  the  Atlantic  coast,  but  at  present  it 
flourishes  only  in  the  waters  of  Southern  Cali- 
fornia. 

The  nine-thread  line  has  been  selected  partly 
because  it  is  the  lightest  linen  line  commonly 
found  in  stock,  and  partly  because  it  more 
nearly  meets  the  widely  varying  requirements 
of  heavy  sea-fishing  than  any  other.  Since 
line  cannot  be  changed  for  every  fish  that 
strikes  it  is  necessary  to  select  one  that  will 
answer  fairly  well  for  the  fish  that  run  and  the 
conditions  which  prevail  in  any  given  locality. 

Conditions  are  so  favorable  about  Catalina 
that  a  six  thread  line  with  a  lifting  strength  of 
but  12  lbs.  would  be  amply  sufficient  for  most 
of  the  large  game  fish.  The  writer  used  all  one 
season  a  cheap  and  inferior  nine  thread  line 
which  never  tested  over  V/2  lbs.  to  the  strand 
and  had  no  trouble  in  landing  yellow-tail  up 
to  31  lbs.,  and  albicore  and  white  sea-bass 
much  heavier.  Of  course  more  fish  were  lost 
on  this  line,  but  the  sport  was  all  the  keener. 
For  all  but  tuna  and  the  very  large  fish  the 
standard  nine  strand  line  testing  not  less  than 
2  lbs.  to  the  strand  is  too  strong,  it  develops 
a  heavy  hand  and  encourages  coarse  methods. 
The  old  sea-angler  accustomed  to  his  24  or 
36  strand  line  looks  with  dismay  at  the  gossa- 
mer-like nine  strand,  but  until  a  man  has 
thoroughly  tested  it  he  has  no  idea  how  much 
it  will  stand. 


The  fact  is  a  line  which  will  lift  18  lbs.  is  a 
powerful  factor,  altogether  too  powerful  for 
nine-tenths  of  the  sea  fish  taken  on  a  hook. 
Most  of  them  do  not  have  a  "ghost  of  a  show" 
so  far  as  the  line  is  concerned ;  if  they  get 
away  it  is  due  to  rocks,  kelp,  or  something  of 
the  kind,  or  to  poor  work  on  the  part  of  the 
angler. 

While  the  adoption  of  the  nine  strand  line 
is  a  very  great  departure,  it  is  the  use  of  the 
nine  ounce  rod  that  works  the  more  radical 
change.  While  light  rods  have  been  sporadic- 
ally used  in  many  waters  they  have  not  been 
systematically  developed  and  devised  to  meet 
the  conditions  of  the  sport.  The  light  rods 
used  have  been  trout,  salmon,  bass  or  other 
fresh  water  rods  which  some  angler  happened 
to  have  with  him,  but  which  were  not  made 
for  sea-work,  and  therefore  afforded  little 
pleasure  in  use. 

As  already  stated  it  is  not  at  all  difficult  to 
land  a  big  game  fish  with  a  light  trout  rod. 
Mr.  G.  Pinchot,  Chief  of  Forest  Service  at 
Washington,  an  enthusiastic  angler,  has 
attempted  to  have  made  a  rod  which  will 
answer  for  all  fishing  from  fly-casting  to  heavy 
sea-trolling.  He  uses  a  ten  foot,  split  bamboo 
of  the  best  make,  that  weighs  8  oz.  and  when 
he  visited  Catalina  waters  for  the  first  time 
last  August,  he  had  no  difficulty  in  landing 
large  albicore  and  yellow-tail.  He  has  caught 
tarpon,  king  fish,  salmon,  and  trout  on  the 
rod,  and  it  seems  to  serve  his  purpose  well, 
one  recommendation  being  that  it  packs  in  a 
satchel  and  is  always  with  him. 

But  it  goes  without  saying  that  while  a 
rod  may  be  devised  that  will  cast  a  fly  fairly 
well  and  at  the  same  time  land  a  large  game 
salt-water  fish,  it  cannot  be  perfectly  adapted  to 
both,  it  must  necessarily  be  a  little  too  coarse 
for  the  trout  stream  and  a  little  too  fine  for 
the  sea.  Heretofore  sea-rods  have  been  so 
built  they  could  be  used  on  the  principle  of 
the  derrick,  and  that,  too,  whether  the  angler 
were  sitting  or  standing.  The  usual  method 
of  holding  them  naturaly  led  to  the  develop- 
ment of  long  powerful  butts;  which  run  from 
18  to  24  inches  in  length  and  were  neither 
more  nor  less  than  huge  pieces  of  wood.  The 
reels  were  correspondingly  heavy,  cumbersome 
masses  of  mechanism — veritable  'winches'. 

The  use  of  a  light  rod  with  a  short  butt 
makes  a  radical  change.  The  use  of  a  seat 
socket  is  out  of  the  question,  and  while  a  belt 
socket  is  a  great  convenience  it  is  not  used 


286 


WESTERN  FIELD 


in  the  same  way  as  with  a  long  butt.  In  all 
active  work  the  rod  must  be  handled  clear  of 
the  body,  the  angler  relying  upon  hand,  wrist 
and  arm.  It  is  free-hand  fishing  as  dis- 
tinguished  from  derrick  work. 

The  writer  has  tried  the  eighteen  inch  butt 
with  six  foot  six  ounce  tip  on  all  the  game 
fish  about  Catalina  except  the  tuna,  and  it  is 
like  catching  herrings  on  a  bamboo  pole.  The 
rod  was  all  out  of  proportion  to  the  nine- 
strand  line.  A  five  or  six  foot  tip  weighing  six 
ounces,  with  an  eighteen  inch  butt,  is  power- 
ful enough  for  a  fifteen  or  eighteen  thread 
line.  The  tip  may  seem  light,  but  it  is  the 
butt  which  gives  the  angler  the  leverage  and 
permits  him  to  play  his  catch  in  a  position  of 
such  ease  that  he  does  not  tire. 

It  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world 
whether  a  man  is  compelled  to  fight  the  fish 
with  his  left  hand  grasping  the  butt  close  to 
the  end,  or  whether  he  rests  the  butt  and  takes 
hold  eighteen  inches  higher  up.  Women  and 
children  have  no  trouble  whatsoever  in  hand- 
ling the  long  butts  even  though  the  tips  weigh 
only  four  or  five  ounces,  but  they  cannot  handle 
the  very  short  butts  on  big  fish  without  long 
practice. 

When  the  Light  Tackle  Club  formulated 
its  rules  it  was  expected  that  those  who  pre- 
ferred longer  and  heavier  butts  would  take 
advantage  of  the  right  to  use  rods  up  to  16 
ounces  and  have  their  tackle  made  accordingly, 
but  the  desire  to  win  records  and  prizes  was 
so  keen  that  nearly  every  man,  woman  and 
child  demanded  and  used,  as  best  they  could. 
a  9  ounce  rod  so  as  to  get  the  benefit  of  the 
allowance. 

For  instance,  with  a  16  ounce  rod  it  was 
necessary  to  land  a  60  pound  tuna,  white  sea 
bass  or  albicore,  or  a  50  pound  yellow-tail  to 
get  the  Club  gold  button;  w^hile  with  a  9 
ounce  rod  a  44  pound  fish  of  the  first  three 
species,  or  a  39  pound  yellow-tail  won  the 
coveted  button.  As  a  natural  result  there 
sprang  up  an  unprecedented  demand  for  9 
ounce  rods,  a  demand  which  was  felt  in  every 
factory  and  tackle  store  as  far  east  as  New 
York  and  Boston.  The  dealers  on  the  Pacific 
Coast  could  not  get  rods  enough. 

But  this  phenomenal  demand  was  not  for  9- 
ounce  rods  of  normal  proportions,  but  for  rods 
with  butts  as  long  and  large  as  the  old  heavy 
rods.  To  meet  this  demand  the  manufacturers 
turned  out  large  numbers  of  what  might  be 
justly  called  imitation  heavy  rods,  that  is  rods 
with  light  tips  and  long,  large  butts,  but  the 


butts  were  made  of  cork  with  small  cores  of 
light  soft  wood,  to  bring  the  rod  within  9 
ounces.  These  rods  looked  well  in  the  show- 
case, and  they  handled  well  until  a  fish  took 
hold,  then  the  butts  would  break,  sometimes 
just  above  the  reel,  sometimes  just  below, 
letting  reel  and  tip  drop  into  the  sea.  The 
writer  saw  four  of  these  cork  and  pine  or 
bass-wood  butts  that  were  broken  in  one  after- 
noon. The  parties  who  paid  thirteen  to  six- 
teen dollars  for  the  rods  were  indignant  when 
they  saw  how  flimsily  the  butts  were  made. 
The  dealers  passed  the  complaints  on  to  the 
manufacturers  who  retorted  they  could  not 
make  9  ounce  rods  with  16  inch  butts  unless 
they  made  the  butts  of  cork  and  punk, — all  of 
which  is  perfectly  true. 

These  conditions  produced,  during  the  past 
season,  a  reaction  in  favor  of  heavy  tackle. 
Some  of  the  manufacturers  and  dealers  clam- 
ored for  unlimited  butts, — for  a  return  to  the 
old  rule  which  provided  for  the  weighing  of 
tip  only,  allowing  a  man  to  use  any  butt  he 
pleased.  A  few  of  the  club  members  who  had 
been  accustomed  to  long,  heavy  butts  also 
favored  a  return  to  the  old  practice.  The 
Tuna  Club  provided  a  red  button  for  a  50 
pound  tuna  landed  wilth  a  9  strand  line  and 
a  rod  the  tip  of  which  should  be  not  less  than 
5  feet  in  length  and  weigh  not  to  exceed  6 
ounces,  any  butt  could  be  used.  The  pressure 
was  too  strong,  the  Light  Tackle  Club  yielded, 
against  the  judgment  of  the  writer,  but  a  sav- 
ing class  was  created  specially  for  those  who 
prefer  light  rods  and  habitually  use  them,  so 
that  the  Club  still  remains  a  light  tackle  club 
in  the  true  sense  of  the  term,  and  the  only 
sea-fishing  club  in  the  world,  so  far  as  known, 
which  has  a  class  that  calls  for  tackle  of  fresh 
water  dimensions  for  large  game  salt-water 
fish,  and  requires  that  the  entire  rod  be 
weighed   in. 

To  encourage  the  use  of  light  tackle  the 
Club  offers  its  gold  star  to  the  angler  who 
lands  the  requisite  fish  under  the  following 
conditions : 

Open  to  men  only.  Fee  $5.00.  Line — 
Standard  9  thread.  Rod — Wood,  with  detach- 
able butt,  tip  may  be  of  one  or  more  pieces. 
Length,  including  butt,  not  less  than  6  feet. 
Length  of  butt  not  to  exceed  12  in.  from  end 
to  end.  Weight,  including  butt,  not  to  exceed 
9  oz. 

1.  Tackle  must  be  submitted  to  some  officer 
of    club    or    member    of    weighing    committee 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


287 


before    they    begin    the    season's    fishing    (not 
each  time  they  go  out). 

2.  No  hand-lines  or  heavier  tackle  (whether 
owned  by  boatman  or  not)  can  be  carried  in 
the  boat.  Extra  rods  coming  within  above 
requirements  can  be  carried  for  use  in  case 
of  accident. 

3.  Only  one  rod  to  each  angler  out  at  a 
time.  If  two  or  more  anglers  are  fishing  from 
one  boat,  each  must  use  the  tackle  here  pre- 
scribed. 

4.  Boatman  under  no  circumstances  to  touch 
rod  or  line  when  hook  is  in  water;  he  may 
touch  wire  leader  to  steady  fish  for  gaffing. 

5.  Angler  may  use  the  ordinary  leather  belt 
socket,  but  he  cannot  use  any  pad,  grip, 
extension  or  device  of  any  kind  attached  in 
any  manner  to  rod,  unless  same  is  weighed  in 
as  part  of  rod. 

6.  A  broken  rod  disqualifies  catch. 

When  catch  is  weighed  in  both  boatman  and 
angler  must  certify  that  above  conditions  have 
been  fully  and  honestly  complied  with. 

The  object  being  to  promote  the  habitual 
use  of  very  light  tackle  a  Gold  Star  will  be 
given  the  angler  who,  under  above  conditions, 
lands  on  different  days,  two  fish  as  follows : 

2  tuna,  each  not  less  than  60  lbs. 
or 

1  60  lb.  tuna  and  any  one  of  the  following; 

A  40  lb.  albicore, 

A  40  lb.  yellow-tail, 

A  50  lb.  white-sea-bass, 
or 

One  fish  of  each  of  any  two  of  the  three 
last  named  species— that  is  a  40  lb.  albicore 
and  a  40  lb.  3'ellow-tail,  or  a  50  lb.  white-sea- 
bass  and  a  40  lb.  yellow-tail,  etc. 

A  fish  of  required  weight  caught  one  season 
will  stand  to  angler's  credit  during  subsequent 
seasons.  If  angler  lands  two  or  more  fish  of 
required  weights  on  same  day  only  one  will 
be  credited. 

It  will  be  observed  that  the  length  of  the 
butt  is  limited  to  12  inches.  This  is  to  dis- 
courage the  use  of  the  long  cork  and  pine  butts. 
The  writer  has  used  the  past  season  a  split 
bamboo  rod  of  the  following  description : 
Length  6  feet  5  inches.  Butt  12  inches.  Weight 
of  rod  8^4  ounces.  Weight  of  butt  ZYz  ounces. 
Butt  is  of  hickory  covered,  in  the  usual  man- 
ner, with  cork.  The  reel  seat  is  not  of  metal 
but  wood,  simply  the  hickory  of  the  right  di- 
ameter at  that  point.  Above  the  reel  is  a  2 
inch  cork  grip  which  is  very  convenient  in  a 
long  hard  contest. 


Although  the  tip  of  this  rod  weighs  less 
than  55^  ounces,  it  is  altogether  too  stiff  for 
any  fish  short  of  the  tuna ;  it  is  too  stiff  for  a 
9  strand  line,  it  is  too  stiff  to  be  graceful  and 
pretty  in  action.  It  should  be  at  least  six 
inches  longer  and  a  good  half  ounce  or  ounce 
lighter.  But  rods  of  different  makes  differ  so 
that  another  built  by  another  maker  to  pre- 
cisely the  same  specifications  might  not  be  half 
so  strong  and  stiff. 

Experience  has  proven  that  a  9  ounce  rod 
with  a  butt  not  to  exceed  12  inches  in  length 
can  be  built  which  will  handle  any  game  sea 
fish,  even  tuna  of  60  pounds  or  more.  When  it 
comes  to  tuna  the  trouble  is  not  in  the  rod, 
but  the  line.  They  take  out  line  so  fast  in 
their  long  rushes  that  a  9  strand  is  often 
parted  by  its  drag  in  the  water  while  running 
free  at  the  reel. 

Rock-bass  and  white-fish  from  one  pond  to 
eight  or  ten  pounds  afford  rare  sport  with  a 
light  bass  casting  rod,  a  small  quadruple  reel 
and  a  No.  3  silk  line.  Were  it  not  for  the  big 
fish  these  smaller  ones  would  be  highly  prized. 
As  it  is  a  man  now  and  then  turns  up  who 
scorns  the  "big  ones"  and  devotes  his  time 
to  the  little. 

Of  all  the  small  fish  about  Catalina  the  skip- 
jack, averaging  four  or  five  pounds,  are  the 
gamest.  Ounce  for  ounce  they  are  gamer  than 
any  of  the  large  fish  and  their  play  is  in- 
comparably prettier.  They  are  found  near  the 
surface  in  deep  water  and  once  among  them  it 
is  easy  to  keep  them  about  the  boat  all  day 
long  by  the  use  of  chum.  As  trimly  shaped  as 
the  tuna  and  more  beautifully  marked  than 
any  of  the  fish  named,  it  is  a  pleasure  to 
see  them  darting  through  the  water  after  the 
pieces  of  chum,  becoming  more  and  more 
excited  as  they  appear  in  greater  numbers  and 
fight  for  the  bait. 

The  skip-jack  dart  hither  and  thither  like  a 
trout.  They  do  not  often  come  clear  out  of 
water  but  they  frequently  break  the  surface 
and  make  wide  sweeps  just  beneath.  Their 
play  is  so  nervous  that  for  seconds  at  a  time 
the  tip  of  the  rod  quivers  as  if  it  were  attached 
to  some  electrical  vibrating  machine.  The 
rapidity  with  which  they  move — really  vibrate 
— the  tail  is  something  phenomenal.  As  they 
are  not  used  for  food  no  one  goes  fishing  for 
them,  but  as  they  can  be  easily  released  with- 
out gaffing  or  injury  there  is  no  reason  why 
they  should  not  be  sought  after  with  very  light 
bass  tackle,  and  certainly  no  bass  will  put  up 
any  such  lightning-like  fight. 


288 


WESTERN  FIELD 


WESTERN  FIELD 

The  Sportsman's  Magazine  of  the  West 


official  organ 

Olympic  Athletic  Club 

and  the   California    Fish  and   Game 

Protective   Associations 

PUBLISHED   MONTHLY    BY 

THE  WESTERN  FIELD  COMPANY 

(incorporated) 
SAN  FRANCISCO.  CAL. 
Offices: 
609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
Registered  at  the  San   Francisco  Postoffice  as  Second- 
Class  Matter 


FRANK  H.  MAYER 


Managing  Editor 


Matter  for  publication  should  be  addressed  "WEST- 
ERN FIELD."  609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
San  Francisco.  Cal..  and  not  to  individuals  connected 
with  the  magazine.  All  copy  for  new  advertisements, 
changes  or  discontinuances,  must  be  in  band  not  later 
than  the  10th  of  the  month  preceding  date  of  issue,  in 
order  to  insure  attention. 

FOR  A  NON-SALE  LAW. 
In  the  name  of  the  People  of  California  we  de 
mand  at  the  hands  of  onr  Legislature,  at  its  next 
session,  the  enactment  and  embodiment  in  onr  game 
law  of  a  statutory  elanse  prohibiting  the  sale  in 
this  State  of  any  game  bird  of  any  description  what- 
soever, and  fixing  a  commensurate  penalty  for  any 
violation  thereof. 

GAME  FUNDS  AND  GAME 

IN  A  well  considered  article  under  the  above 
caption,  the  A  merican  Field  says : 

"Fifty  thousand  to  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  a 
year — sucj  is  the  range  of  the  amount  of  money  paid 
to  individual  states  by  shooters  for  the  privilege  of 
hunting  game  birds  and  animals  during  legal,  open 
seasons.  In  ten  states  the  sum  total  would  exceed  a 
million  dollars  annually — an  amount  sufficient  to  stock 
the  states  with  an  everlasting  supply  of  game  birds! 
What  is  the  matter  with  the  people  of  this  country?" 

We  cannot  answer  for  other  communities, 
but  the  matter  with  the  people  of  California 
is  too  much  politics  in  the  appointment  of  a 
commission  that  can  only  be  effective  when  it 
is  absolutely  free  from  politics  both  in  its  ap- 
pointment and  its  management.  A  commission 
for  the  preservation  of  the  game  interests  of 
any  State,  to  fill  the  purposes  of  its  creation, 
must  be  composed  of  men  of  peculiar  attain- 
ments and  special  fitness. 


Of  these  the  first  and  most  important  is  that 
the  commissioner  must  be  a  practical  sports- 
man, fully  conversant  with  the  game  of  the 
State  and  its  general  condition.  He  must  have 
a  knowledge  of  the  value  of  the  game,  not 
alone  through  the  millions  of  dollars  spent 
annually  and  put  into  general  circulation  by 
those  who  are  able,  or  at  least  willing  to  pay 
dearly  for  the  pleasure  its  pursuit  affords  them, 
but  a  knowledge  as  well  of  its  value  as  a 
means  of  healthful  recreation  for  all  classes, 
lie  must  be  uncompromising  in  his  adherence 
to  the  most  advanced  thought  of  practical 
game  protection,  for  if  he  believes  that  one 
pound  of  any  species  of  this  game  which  forms 
one  of  the  most  valuable  resources  of  the 
State  should  be  allowed  to  become  an  article 
of  commerce  he  is  as  devoid  of  the  qualifications 
of  a  commissioner  as  a  wolf  would  be  for 
the  guardianship  of  a  band  of  sheep.  His 
business  connections  must  be  such  that  he  has 
plenty  of  time  to  personally  attend  to  the 
duties  of  the  office,  instead  of  depending  upon 
some  employe  whose  only  interest  in  the 
cause  is  the  salary  he  receives  for  a  perfunc- 
tory compliance  with  the  law  in  minor  cases 
and  an  occasional  arrest,  widely  heralded  in 
the  newspapers,  for  the  sake  of  making  a 
showing. 

A  game  commissioner  must  be  a  man  of 
iron  will  and  inflexible  purpose,  who  will 
ignore  the  ties  of  friendship,  of  business  as- 
sociations and  political  obligations  in  the  per- 
formance of  his  duties,  and  in  exacting  a  faith- 
ful service  from  his  employes.  Whenever  and 
wherever  politics  or  friendship  enters  into  the 
appointment  of  game  commissioners,  or  in  the 
hiring  of  their  employes,  these  most  necessary 
qualifications  are  very  generally  absent. 

The  appointing  power  if  actuated  by  politics 
will  look  to  the  political  claims  of  the  candi- 
date, instead  of  to  his  real  fitness  for  the  place. 
Then  the  political  appointee  will  have  political 
debts  to  pay  in  the  appointment  of  his  sub- 
ordinates, either  personal  or  through  his 
political  friends.  Then  again,  political  influ- 
ences will  be  brought  to  bear  upon  him  in  his 
administration  of  the  laws;  all  of  which  tend 
to  the  very  condition  our  contemporary  com- 
plains of  in  voicing  the  sentiments  of  the  great 
mass  of  sportsmen  of  the  land. 

It  is  a  deplorable  fact  that  the  great  majority 
of  men  elected  as  governors  of  our  States 
possess  far  more  of  the  elements  of  the  suc- 
cessful politician  than  of  the  true  statesman, 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


289 


and  therefore  cannot  rise  above  the  narrow 
plane  of  politics  in  the  selection  of  game  com- 
missioners whose  instincts  and  training  fit 
them  for  those  important  positions,  instead  of 
choosing  them  because  of  their  political  in- 
fluence. 

Once,  and  once  only,  has  a  governor  of  Cali- 
fornia ignored  all  political  influences  in  the 
appointment  of  game  commissioners.  Ex- 
Governor  Gage,  in  his  first  appointment,  went 
outside  of  his  party  and  selected  a  model  com- 
missioner— a  gentleman  who  has  spent  the 
best  years  of  his  life  in  the  field  and  possessed 
a  perfect  knowledge  of  the  game  and  game 
conditions  of  the  State.  Devoted  at  heart  to 
the  cause  of  game  protection,  with  no  business 
complications  to  warp  either  his  views  or  his 
actions,  and  with  the  moral  backbone  to  de- 
mand of  the  most  wealthy  citizen  or  influential 
corporation  a  strict  compliance  with  the  laws, 
while  his  health  permitted  he  gave  nearly  half 
of  his  time  to  the  duties  of  the  office,  and  ex- 
acted from  his  employes  a  faithful,  fearless 
and  impartial  performance  of  their  duties. 
During  his  short  administration  as  president 
of  the  board  he  did  more  for  genuine  game 
protection  than  all  of  his  predecessors  and  suc- 
cessors combined.  And  when,  after  an  illness 
of  eight  months,  he  resigned,  it  was  regretted 
by  every  sportsman  of  the  State.  In  the  same 
article  the  Field  asks  another  question  that  we 
of  California  can  answer  with  emphasis.  It 
asks : 

"But  where  are  the  state  game  protective  associa- 
tions; or,  to  be  specific,  where  is  the  state  game  pro- 
tective association  which  has  met  as  one  body,  of 
late  years,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  putting  its  shoulder 
to  the  wheel  of  game  protection,  appointed  a  numerous 
and  influential  committee  to  go  before  the  Legislature 
to  demand  that  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  dollars 
being  paid  into  the  state  game  fund  be  profitably  ex- 
pended and  accounted  for;  where  is  the  state  game 
protective  association  that  has  demanded  the  appoint- 
ment of  state  game  commissioners  and  wardens  be- 
cause of  special  fitness  and  aptitude  for  the  positions, 
and  then  backed  them  up  with  its  moral  and  public 
spirited  influence — yea,  even  political  influence?" 

The  California  Game  and  Fish  Protective 
Association  has  met  annually  since  its  organi- 
zation on  May  26,  1900,  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
"putting  its  shoulder  to  the  wheel  of  game  pro- 
tection," and  at  each  session  of  the  State  Legis- 
lature has,  in  the  face  of  difficulties  and  oppos- 
ing forces  that  would  have  discouraged  anyone 
but  a  Californian,  fought  through  the  legis- 
lature every  valuable  clause  now  in  the  game 
laws  of  the  State. 


At  the  first  session  after  its  organization,  it 
demanded  and  secured  the  passage  of  a  law 
placing  a  bag  limit,  not  alone  on  the  number 
of  birds  or  animals  one  might  kill,  but  as  well 
on  the  number  that  one  could  have  in  one's 
possession.  It  also  secured  the  enactment  of  a 
law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  quail,  and  shorten- 
ing the  open  season  on  all  game  one  month. 
In  this,  strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  association 
had  the  active  opposition  of  two  of  the  three 
members  then  of  the  commission. 

The  California  Game  and  Fish  Protective 
Association  has  each  legislative  year  carefully 
considered  the  necessary  changes  that  should 
be  made  in  the  laws,  and  at  each  session  of  the 
legislature  had  its  representatives  present  to 
urge  their  enactment.  And  while  for  the  last 
four  years  it  has  had  the  active  opposition  of 
the  full  board  of  commissioners  and  their 
chief  deputy,  it  has  secured  the  enactment  of 
the  following  laws  and  amendments : 

A  limit  on  deer  to  two  for  the  season  and 
making  it  a  misdemeanor  to  allow  dogs  to  run 
deer  in  the  close  season.  A  limit  of  twenty-five 
on  all  shore  birds  and  the  prohibition  of  the 
sale  of  all  game  except  ducks.  A  close  season 
on  English  snipe.  A  close  season  on  tree  squir- 
rels. A  shorter  season  on  doves  and  a  reduc- 
tion in  the  bag  limit  from  fifty  to  twenty-five, 
and  on  ducks  from  fifty  to  thirty-five.  A  limit 
on  the  number  and  size  of  trout,  and  the  pro- 
hibition of  their  sale  when  under  one  pound  in 
weight.  The  law  requiring  all  game  to  be 
shipped  in  open  view;  punishing  common  car- 
riers for  receiving  more  than  the  lawful  num- 
ber, and  prohibiting  the  shipment  of  all  game 
out  of  the  State.  And  last,  though  by  no  means 
least,  the  enactment  of  a  hunting  license  law, 
after  the  Senate  Fish  and  Game  Committee,  at 
the  instigation  of  the  commissioners,  had  re- 
ported "that  it  do  not  pass."  The  association 
also  defeated  before  the  legislature,  two  years 
ago,  an  infamous  bill,  introduced  at  the  request 
of  the  commission,  to  license  market  hunters, 
game  dealers,  hotels  and  restaurants  in  a  nom- 
inal sum,  and  exempt  them  from  the  provisions 
of  the  bag  limit  law. 

Besides  all  these  most  necessary  laws — none 
of  which  would  be  today  on  the  statute  books 
but  for  the  untiring  efforts  of  the  California 
Game  and  Fish  Protective  Association,  it  has 
through  its  educational  work  changed  the 
whole  trend  of  public  thought  regarding  the 
fish  and  game  laws,  making  convictions   easy 


290 


WESTERN  FIELD 


where  a  few  years  ago  they  were  impossible, 
and  a  license  law  popular  that  will  net  the 
State  not  less  than  $80,000  per  year. 

To  the  question  of  our  contemporary  the 
California  Association  can  further  answer  that 
it  has  demanded  of  the  governor  the  appoint- 
ment of  men  specially  qualified  for  the  posi- 
tions, men  whose  titness  stood  out  as  plain  as 
the  sun  in  a  clear  sky.  Hut  with  the  last  two 
governors  of  the  State  politics  has  been  dearer 
to  them  than  their  ante-election  pledges,  and 
they  turned  down  the  request — yea,  the  im- 
perative demand — of  over  75,000  voters.  One 
of  them  saw  the  effect  of  his  treachery,  when 
in  turn  he  was  turned  down  for  a  rcnomina- 
tion.  The  present  incumbent  apparently  has 
not  yet  realized  that  the  independent  sports- 
nun's  vote  is  greater  than  his  total  majority, 
and  was  given  him  because  of  his  promises. 
He  may  yet  redeem  them,  now  that  he  sees  that 
there  are  over  75,000  sportsmen  voters  in  the 
State,  the  majority  of  whom  are  ready  at  any 
time  to  throw  politics  to  the  wind  for  the  sake 
of  consistent  game  protection,  which  they  know 
from  past  experience  can  only  be  had  through 
the  appointment  of  active  sportsmen,  specially 
fitted  by  instinct  and  training  for  the  import- 
ant position  of  fish  and  game  commissioners. 


OUR  CONVENTION  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

EVERY  sportsman  in  California  who  is 
able  to  afford  the  time,  should  make  it 
a  point  to  attend  the  Annual  Convention  of 
the  California  Game  and  Fish  Protective 
Association  which  is  to  convene  at  Los  An- 
geles, November  8-10  inclusive.  This  will 
be  one  of  the  most  important  conventions 
in  the  history  of  the  association ;  there  are 
matters  of  weight  and  urgency  that  must  be 
settled  without  delay,  issues  of  vital  impor- 
tance that  affect  the  futurity  of  our  sport 
to  be  discussed,  new  conditions  to  be  met. 
Altogether  it  will  be  a  banner  meet  in  every 
respect — particularly  so  in  social  features  if 
Los  Angeles's  good  right  hand  has  not  lost 
its    cunning. 

Among  other  topics  of  paramount  interest 
will  be  the  discussion  of  the  expenditure  of 
the  large  amount  of  money  accruing  from 
the  collection  of  hunting  license  fees.  It  is 
logical  to  assume  that  if,  as  the  result  of  the 


careful  deliberations  of  our  State's  sportsmen 
in  convention  assembled,  we  arrive  at  a  unani- 
mous consensus  of  opinion  as  to  how  this 
money  should  be  expended  so  as  to  bring  the 
best  results  to  our  game  interests,  the  Board 
of  Fish  Commissioners  will  extend  such  a 
conclusion  their  careful  recognition.  It  is  the 
sportsmen  who  are  paying  the  fiddler  and 
they  are  justly  entitled,  under  the  circum- 
stances, to  some  voice  in  the  matter  of  what 
the   dance   shall  be. 

The  only  policy  to  be  pursued  with  good 
effect  is  one  of  harmonious  and  concerted 
action  between  the  Commission  and  the 
sportsmen,  and  we  earnestly  hope  that  such 
harmonious  relations  may  be  permanently 
established.  Should  any  other  conditions 
materialize,  it  will  not  be  the  fault  of  the 
sportsmen ;  we  are  eager  to  work  shoulder 
to  shoulder,  cheek  by  jowl,  with  the  Com- 
mission and  its  attaches;  but  we  J  re  entitled 
to — and  will  ftrenuously  demand — co-opera- 
tion that  will  be  not  only  genuine  and  effective 
but  courteous  and  cordial  as  well. 

A  measuie  that  we  strongly  advocate,  and 
one  that  we  will  introduce  and  champion  in 
the  convention,  is  that  of  a  seasonal  bag 
limit — that  is,  a  limit  to  be  placed  on  the 
number  of  birds  and  fishes  that  may  be  taken 
each  season  by  any  one;  this,  of  course,  being 
an  additional  restriction  to  the  present  daily 
bag  limit.  We  think  this  will  appeal  to  all 
genuine  sportsmen — and  the  other  kind  we 
don't  care  a  rap  about.  There  is  already  a 
seasonal  limit  on  deer ;  why  not  on  ducks, 
quail,  snipe,  trout  and  bass  as  well? 

At  the  coming  convention  each  local  pro- 
tective Association  registered  with  the  sec- 
retary of  the  State  association  will  be  entitled 
a  representation  of  five  delegates,  and  we 
earnestly  ask  that  such  representation  ma- 
terialize in  the  flesh  at  Los  Angeles.  The 
entertainment  menu  put  up  by  the  City  of 
Angels  includes  a  fishing  trip  to  the  wonder- 
ful Catalina  Islands,  duck,  snipe  and  quail 
shooting  galore,  and  a  hundred  and  one  other 
features  that  make  for  a  royal  time.  Reduced 
rates  will  be  extended  to  all  delegates,  their 
families  and  friends.  Simply  make  requisition 
with  Secretary  E.  A.  Mocker,  Capitola,  who 
will  make  all  arrangements  in  the  matter. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


291 


President, 

H.    T.     Payne,     725     Baker    Street,    San     Francisco. 

Vice-Presidents, 

C.   L.   Powell,  Pleasanton;   Dr.   I.  W.  Hays,  Grass 

Valley;  A.  S.  Nichols,  Sierraville;  H.  W.  Keller,  Los 

Angeles,    and    Chase    Littlejohn,    Redwood    City. 

Executive  Committee — C.  W.  Hibbard,  San  Fran- 
cisco; W.  W.  Richards,  Oakland;  A.  M.  Barker,  San 
Jose;  Frank  H.  Mayer,  San  Francisco,  and  J.  H. 
Schumacher,    Los    Angeles. 

Membership  Committee — E.  A.  Mocker,  Capitola; 
W.  C  Correll,  Riverside,  and  R.  H.  Kelly,  Santa 
Cruz. 

Committee  on  Legislation— H.  W.  Keller,  C.  W. 
Hibbard,  J.  B.  Hauer,  A.  R  Orr,  and  W.  Scott  Way. 

Secretary-Treasurer. 
E.   A.   Mocker,   1316   Hayes   Street. 

County  Associations — Their  Secretaries  and  Ad- 
dresses : 

Alameda  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
— A.    L.    Henry,    Sec.-Treas.,    Livermore,    Cal. 

Alturas— R.  A.   Laird,   Sec,  Alturas,   Cal. 

Angels — Walter    Tryon,    Sec,    Angels    Camp,    Cal. 

Arroyo  Grande — S.  Clevenger,  Sec,  Arroyo 
Grande,    Cal. 

Auburn — E.   A.    Francis,   Sec,  Auburn,   Cal. 

Boulder  Creek— J.  H.  Aran,  Sec,  Boulder  Creek, 
Cal. 

Audubon  Society  of  California — W.  Scott  Way, 
Sec,   Pasadena,   Cal. 

California  Rod  and  Gun  Club  Association — 316 
Mills   Building,   San   Francisco,   Cal. 

Chico,  ,  Sec,  Chico,   Cal. 

Cloverdale— C.    H.    Smith,    Sec,    Cloverdale,    Cal. 

Colusa— S.    J.    Gilmour,    Sec,    Colusa,    Cal. 

Corning— Mason    Case,    Sec,    Corning,    Cal. 

Covelo— H.    W.    Schutler,    Sec,    Covelo,    Cal. 

Deer  Creek— Jos.   Mitchell,  Sec,  Hot  Springs,  Cal. 

Fort    Bragg—  Thos.    Burns,   Sec,    Fort    Bragg,    Cal. 

Fresno — D.   Dismukes,   Sec,   Fresno,   Cal. 

Grass  Valley — John  Mulroy,  Sec,  Grass  Valley, 
Cal. 

Healdsburg  F.  and  G.  P.  Ass'n— J.  H.  Kruse, 
Secretary,    Healdsburg. 

Hollister— Wm.  Higby,  Sec,  Hollister,  Cal. 

Humboldt— Julius    Janssen,    Sec,    Humboldt,    Cal. 

Jackson— O.     H.     Reichling,     Sec,     Jackson,     Cal. 

Kelseyville — Chas.   H.   Pugh,   Sec,  Kelseyville,   Cal. 

Kern  County— E.  F.  Pueschel,  Sec,  Bakersfield, 
Cal. 

Kings  County— S.  S.  Mullins,  Sec,  Hanford, 
Cal. 


Lakeport — B.    F.    Mclntyre,    Sec,    Lakeport,    Cal. 

Laytonville— J.    G.    Dill,    Sec,    Laytonville,    CaJ. 

Lodi— Greer    McDonald,    Sec,    Lodi,    Cal. 

Lompoc— W.    R.    Smith,    Sec,    Lompoc,    Cal. 

Los  Angeles — L.    Herzog,   Sec,   Los  Angeles,   Cal. 

Madera— Joe    Bancroft,    Sec,    Madera,    Cal. 

Marysville — R.    B.    Boyd,    Sec,    Marysville,    Cal. 
Mendocino    City — O.     L.     Stanley,    Sec,    Mendocino 
City,    Cal. 

Mohawk  Valley  F.  and  G.  P.  Association— Fred 
King,   Sec.-Treas.,   Cleo,   Plumas   County. 

Monterey  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
— B.   Ramsey,   Sec,   Monterey. 

Napa— W.  West,  Sec,  Napa,  Cal. 

Nevada  City— Fred  C.  Brown,  Sec,  Nevada  City, 
Cal. 

Oroville— G.  T.  Graham,  Sec,  Oroville,   Cal. 

Oxnard— Roy    B.    Witman,    Sec,    Oxnard,    Cal. 

Paso  Robles— T.  W.  Henry,  Sec,  Paso  Robles, 
Cal. 

Petaluma— Jos.    Steiger,   Sec,   Petaluma,    Cal. 

Pescadero— C.   J.   Coburn,   Sec,   Pescadero,   Cal. 

Porterville— G.    R.    Lumley,    Sec,    Porterville,    Cal. 

Quincy— T.    F.    Spooner,    Sec,    Quincy,    Cal. 

Red    Bluff— W.    F.    Luning,    Sec,    Red    Bluff,    Cal. 

Redding— Dr.    B.    F.    Belt,    Sec,    Redding,    Cal. 

Redlands—  Robert     Leith,    Sec,    Redlands,     Cal. 

Redwood  City — C.  Littlejohn,  Sec,  Redwood  City, 
Cal. 

Riverside — Joe    Shields,    Sec,    Riverside,    Cal. 

San  Andreas — Will  A.  Dower,  Sec,  San  Andreas, 
Cal. 

San  Rafael — H.  E.  Robertson,  Sec,  San  Rafael, 
Cal. 

Santa   Ana — J.    W.    Carlyle,   Sec,   Santa  Ana,    Cal. 

Santa  Barbara— E.  C.  Tallant,  Sec,  Santa  Bar- 
bara,   Cal. 

San  Bernardino — F.  C.  Moore,  Sec,  San  Bernar- 
dino,   Cal. 

Santa   Clara— J.   H.   Faull,   Sec,   San  Jose,   Cal. 

Santa    Cruz— R.    Miller,    Sec,    Santa    Cruz,    Cal. 

San    Diego— A.    D.    Jordan,    Sec,    San    Diego,    Cal. 

San  Francisco  Fly  Casting  Club— F.  W.  Brother- 
ton,  Sec,  29  Wells-Fargo  Building,  San  Francisco, 
Cal. 

Sanger— H.    C.    Coblentz,    Sec,    Sanger,    Cal. 

Santa  Maria — L.  J.  Morris,  Sec,  Santa  Maria, 
Cal. 

Santa  Rosa — Miles  Peerman,  Sec,  Santa  Rosa, 
Cal. 

San  Luis  Obispo— H.  C.  Knight,  Sec,  San  Luis 
Obispo,    Cal. 

Salinas— J.    J.    Kelley,    Sec,    Salinas,    Cal. 

Selma— J.    J.    Vanderburg,    Sec,    Selma,    Cal. 

Sierra— Dr.    S.    H.    Crow,    Sec,    Sierraville,    Cal. 

Sierra  Co.,  F.  and  G.  Association— F.  B.  Sparks, 
Sec,    Loyalton,    Cal. 

Siskiyou — W.    A.    Sharp,    Sec,    Sisson,    Cal. 

Santa  Paula— Dr.  R.  L.  Poplin,  Sec,  Santa  Paula, 
Cal. 

Sacramento  County — A.  Hertzey,  Sec,  Sacramen- 
to,   Cal. 

Sonora— J.    A.    Van    Harlingen,    Sec,    Sonora,    Cal. 

Stockton— R.    L.    Quisenberry,   Sec,   Stockton,    Cal. 

Susanville— R.    M.    Rankin,    Sec,    Susanville,    Cal. 

Sutter  Creek— L.  F.  Stinson,  Sec,  Three  Rivers, 
Cal. 

Truckee  River  F.  and  G.  Ass'n— A.  F.  Schlumpf, 
Truckee,    Cal. 

Ukiah — Sam    D.    Paxton,    Sec,    Ukiah,    Cal. 

Vallejo— J.   V.   O'Hara,   Sec,  Vallejo,   Cal. 

Ventura — M.     E.    V.    Bogart,    Sec,    Ventura,    Cal. 

Visalia— Thomas  A.    Chaten,   Sec,   Visalia,  Cal. 

Watsonville— Ed    Winkle,    Sec,     Watsonville,    Cal. 

Willits— Chester    Ware,    Sec,    Willits,    Cal. 

Woodland — W.  F.  Huston,  Sec,  Woodland,  Cal. 

West  Berkeley — Charles  Hadlan,  Sec,  West  Ber- 
keley,   Cal. 

Yreka— F.    E.    Autenreith,    Sec,    Yreka.    Cal. 


292 

IT" 


WESTERN  FIELD 


California  Game  and  Fish  Laws  1907  1909 

HUNTING    1   ICBNBBS  —  Residents    ll.OO;    non-resident-. 
PS.00,     Licenses  must  be  carried 
■    Lenud, 

SALEuf  all  inline  ami  birds  prohibited  except  ducks,  geese 

Sale  of  Trout  under  one  (  1  )  pound  or  Striped  Bass 
uivW  tin.  nl'ited. 

\  HI  aw  ml  at  ALL  TiMKS  to  shoot  game  between  half 

ud  ball  hour  before  sunrise;   or  to  net  or 

tnpany  SUM  ialmih  or  birds,  or  to  take  the  eggs  or  destroy 

i  {tme  or  other  wild  birds ;  or  to  shoot  on  enclosed 

ed  grounds,  when    posted,  without  permission ;    or 

to  kill  Uy  I  lk.  Dm,  Pawn,  Antelope.  Mountain  Sheep.  Swan, 

Imported  Quail,  Grouse,  Sage-hen,  Blue  or  White 

HerOD    t     Crane  "),    Se,t-gidl  or  any  non-game  birds  except 

Geese,    Brant,    Sharp-shinned,  Cooper"s   and    Duck    Hawks, 

Great   Horned     Owl,     1-nglish    SparTOW,     Linnet.     Blue    Jay. 

Butcher  Bird  (Shrike}  ud    such  fish  eating  birds  as  are    not 

mentioned  above. 

SHIPPING  Gamb-A11  game  and  fish  must  be  sliipped  in 
open  view,  with  name  and  address  of  shipper. 

OPEN   SEASONS. 

DEER— (Bucks  only*  July  15  to  Oct.  1.  Limit  2  for  the 
season.     Dogs  can  only  be  used  for  trailing  wounded  deer. 

Valley  gt'AiL.  Curlew  and  other  Shore  Birds- 
Oct.  15  to  Feb.  15. 

Mountain  Qva 

DOVES— July  15  to  Oct.  15.     Limit  25  per  day. 

DUCKS— Oct.  1  to  Feb.  15.  Limit  35  per  day. 

Wilson  or  ""Jack'*  Snipe— Oct.  15  to  April  1. 


1  B  i 


SQUIB 


L— Sept.    1   to   Jan.    I.       Limit  12  i 


Salmon— Oct.  23  to  Sept.  17  of  the  following  year. 
(Closed  above  tide  water  from  Oct.  23  to  Nov.  15]. 

TROUT  AND  White  fish— (Hook  and  line  only),  May  1 
to  Nov.  15.  Limit  50  fish  (but  not  to  exceed  25  lbs.)  No  fish 
less  than  5  inches  in  length. 


r  ]     Limit  50  fish  not  less  than  5  inches  in  length. 
Black  Bass— (Hook  and  line  only,  )  June   1  to  Jan.  1. 
Limit  50  fish. 

Golden  Trout,  Sturgeon  and  Sacramento  perch 
--•NO  open  season. 

PENALTIES—  Killing  Elk,  imprisonment  from  1  to  2 
vears ;  killing  Does,    Fawns,    Antelope   or   Mountain   Sheep, 

j?0  to  Js r  imprisonment.     \  iolating  any  other  game  law. 

$25  to  $500  or  Imprisonment.  Violating  any  fish  law,  $20  to 
$500  or  imprisonment.  Using  any  explosives  for  killing  fish. 
$250  or  imprisonment.  Attempted  violation  punishable  same 
as  actual  violation. 


GAME  LAWS  IN  HANDY  FORM 

We  present  herewith  a  full  sized  cut  of  a  handsome 
aluminum  card,  issued  by  Western  Field  for  the 
benefit  of  Sportsmen,  which  gives  at  a  glance  a 
condensed,  yet  sufficiently  complete  resume  of  the 
game   laws   of   California. 

These  handsome  metal  cards — which  are  very  light 
and  of  a  convenient  size  to  carry  in  the  vest 
pocket — will  be  sent  to  anyone  free.  Simply  enclose 
two  cent  stamp  for  return  postage  and  same  will 
be  forwarded  without  delay.  Dealers  in  sporting 
goods  will  be  supplied  with  quantities  for  free  dis- 
tribution on  request.  Address  Western  Field  Co., 
609-10  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building,  San  Fran- 
cisco. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


293 


THE  DEER  THAT  WASN'T  SHOT 


THE  established  rule  of  the  hunt  declares  that  the 
quarry  must  lead  and  the  huntsman  follow ;  but 
all  rules  have  their  exceptions.  That  there  is  an 
exception  to  this  rule  of  the  hunt  I  am  certain,  for 
with  my  own  eyes  I  witnessed  the  amusing  occurrence 
in  which  the  process  was  reversed.  It  happened  this 
summer  while  a  friend  and  I  were  idling  away  a  few 
weeks  amid  the  mountains  in  the  northwestern  por- 
tion of  Sonoma  County. 

One  of  the  ranch-owners  near  where  we  were 
stopping  was  in  a  hurry  to  get  his  hay  under  cover, 
but  was  short-handed.  My  friend  and  I  volunteered 
our  services.  During  one  of  the  trips  with  the 
empty  hay  wagon  from  the  barn  to  the  field  from 
which  we  were  hauling  the  hay,  the  rancher  was 
telling  us  how  in  years  gone  by  he  had  killed 
a  great  many  deer  in  one  of  the  enclosures  which 
lay  on  the  hill,  a  hundred  yards  or  so  above  his 
house.  He  had  scarcely  finished  recounting  the 
story  of  hunting  in  other  days,  when  our  attention 
was  attracted  to  a  large  buck  which  made  its  way 
out  of  a  clump  of  bushes  in  the  very  field  of  which 
the  rancher  had  been  speaking.  It  was  a  magnifi- 
cent animal,  and  as  it  stood  some  two  hundred 
yards  off  furnished  a  target  that  was  more  than 
tempting,  even  for  a  poor  marksman.  But  as  hay 
is  handled  with  pitchforks  instead  of  firearms,  there 
was   not    a    rifle   on   the   wagon. 

Determined  to  have  a  shot  at  the  buck  if  possible 
the  rancher  dropped  from  the  wagon,  and  keeping 
well  concealed  from  the  sight  of  the  deer,  hastily 
ran  back  to  the  house  to  procure  his  rifle.  Still 
under  cover  of  the  brow  of  the  hill,  he  climbed 
upward,  taking  pains  to  keep  to  the  windward.  All 
the  while  the  deer  remained  in  plain  view  of  us. 
Just  as  the  rancher  got  in  a  position  where  he  could 
have  got  a  chance  to  display 
however,  the  buck,  seemingly  ur 
so  doing  it  had  undoubtedly  saved  his  life,  slowly 
sauntered  back  into  the  bushes  from  which  it  had 
come.  Not  discouraged  at  finding  the  buck  gone, 
the  rancher  continued  his  climb  upward  and  was 
soon  lost  to  sight  in  the  bushes. 

Scarcely  had  the  man  disappeared  from  view  when 
the  buck  reappeared,  slowly  walking  out  of  the 
bushes  a  few  yards  from  the  spot  where  it  kad 
entered.       Thinking     that     by     warning     the     rancher 


rksmanship, 
that   by 


he  might  retrace  his  steps  and  meet  the  deer  face 
to  face,  we  whistled.  As  the  sound  reached  him 
the  buck  trotted  along  the  hillside  until  it  came  to 
the  open  through  which  it  had  passed  at  first,  and 
was  again  lost  to  view.  The  rancher  upon  hearinf 
our  whistles  started  back,  but  instead  of  directly 
retracing  his  steps,  continued  around  the  hill  and 
in  so  doing  did  not  see  the  deer  the  second  time. 
By  going  around  the  hill  rather  than  coming  directly 
back,  he  was  practically  followed  by  the  deer  for 
which    he    was    hunting. 

BURTON  JACKSON  WYMAN. 


THE    REED-McMILLIN     COLLECTION 
OF  BIG   GAME  HEADS 

THE  founders  of  the  National  Collection  of  Heads 
and  Horns,  which  is  being  formed  by  the  sports- 
men of  America,  and  will  be  permanently  owned 
and  exhibited  in  the  New  York  Zoological  Park,  has 
recently  secured  a  notable  addition.  Through  the 
liberality  of  Emerson  McMillin,  Esq.,  of  New  York,  a 
member  of  the  Camp- Fire  Club,  an  art  connoisseur 
and  a  thorough  sportsman,  the  famous  collection 
which  for  several  years  past  has  been  exhibited  in  the 
Union  Club,  Victoria,  British  Columbia,  and  known  as 
the  "Reed  Collection,"  has  been  purchased,  shipped 
to  New  York,  and  temporarily  installed  in  the 
Lion  House  at  the  New  York  Zoological  Park. 
The  collection  consists  of  the  largest  and  finest 
heads  of  Alaskan  moose,  Alaskan  and  British  Colum- 
bian caribou,  big  brown  bears,  white  mountain 
sheep   and   walrus,   ever   brought   together. 

During  the  years  when  big  moose  and  caribou 
were  abundant  on  the  Kenai  Peninsula,  and  in 
other  accessible  districts  of  Alaska,  an  English 
sportsman,  Mr.  A.  S.  Reed,  then  residing  in  Victoria, 
British  Columbia,  made  many  hunting  trips  to  the 
best  game  districts  of  both  Alaska  and  British 
Columbia.  He  spent  several  winters  in  the  far 
Northwest,  with  the  Indians,  in  order  to  hunt  moose 
and  caribou  when  they  were  in  their  finest  condi- 
tion as  to  antlers,  and  to  hunt  the  big  brown 
bears  when  their  pelage  was  at  its  best.  In  fact, 
Mr.  Reed  had  his  pick  of  the  big  game  at  the 
time  when  it  was  most  plentiful ;  and  the  finest 
specimens  taken  by  him  were  saved  for  his  col- 
lection. 

It  is  very  doubtful  if  it  would  now  be  possible 
for  anyone  to  form  a  collection  of  heads  and  skins 
from  the  Northwest  which  in  size,  massiveness  and 
general  perfection  could  equal  the  great  gathering 
made  by  Mr.  Reed.  Today  the  caribou  has  entirely 
disappeared  from  the  Kenai  Peninsula,  and  the 
moose  of  that  peninsula  may  be  hunted  no  longer. 
Brown  bears  of  the  enormous  proportions  which 
once  were  obtained,  are  now  becoming  exceedingly 
rare, — the  great  majority  of  those  killed  weighing 
much  less  than  1000  pounds.  The  largest  bear 
skin  in  the  collection  is  not  only  of  very  great 
size,  but  its  pelage  is  unusually  long  and  fine.  Its 
value  has  recently  been  estimated  by  Mr.  Paul 
Niedieck,  a  German  sportsman  who  is  familiar  with 
Alaskan  animals  generally,  at  $1000.  When  last 
in  New  York,  he  declared  that  it  is  the  finest 
bear  skin  in  the  world.  Mr.  Niedieck  not  only 
estimated     the     value     of     the     Reed     Collection     at 


204 


WESTERN  FIELD 


$10,000  but  stated  that  had  it  not  been  purchased 
for  the  National  Collection,  he  would  willingly 
pay   that    sum    for    it. 

Of  the  six  moose  heads  which  the  collection  con- 
tains, the  largest  has  a  spread  of  76  inches,  with 
■  width  of  pnlmation  which  can  only  be  described 
as  enormous.  The  other  moose  heads  have  a  spread 
measure,    respectively,    of    74,    72,    67    and    64    inches. 

The  76-inch  head  is  regarded  by  some  experts 
•  ill.,  have  seen  it  as  the  finest  moose  head  in  the 
world, — at  least  so  far  as  known.  There  is  one 
other  head  which  has  a  spread  of  7S]/i  inches;  but 
its  width  of  palmation  is  much  less  than  that  of 
Mr.    Reed's    grand    prize. 

The  caribou  heads  are,  in  their  way,  as  fine  as 
the  moose  heads,  but  at  this  moment,  measurements 
are  not  available.  Perhaps  the  most  notable  speci- 
men is  that  representing  Osborn's  Caribou  (Rangifer 
osborni),  from  the  Cassiar  Mountains  of  British 
Columbia,  which  by  Mr.  Madison  Grant  is  regarded 
as  being  in  all  probability  the  finest  caribou  head 
in  the  world.  This  does  not  mean,  however,  that 
it    has    the    greatest    length    of    beam. 

The  Reed  Collection  was  secured  just  i„  time  to 
forestall  its  transfer  to  the  British  Museum.  Mr. 
Reed  had  already  concluded  to  present  it  to  that 
institution,  but  the  founding  of  the  National  Col- 
lection of  Heads  and  Horns  in  New  York  appealed 
to  him  so  strongly  that  he  was  prevailed  upon  to 
sell  his  collection  to  Mr.  McMillin's  agent  for 
exactly  half  its  value,— $5000.  The  negotiations  were 
conducted  by  Mr.  W.  T.  Hornaday,  who,  early  last 
spring,  secured  an  option  from  Mr.  Reed  on  his 
collection,  and  then  laid  the  matter  before  Mr. 
McMillin,  who  promptly  authorized  the  purchase 
of  it,  as  his  gift.  In  addition  to  the  purchase 
price,  Mr.  McMillin  contributed  $500,  to  cover 
the  cost  of  packing  the  collection  and  transporting 
it  to  New  York.  It  reached  New  York  on  October 
10th,  and  has  been  stored,  temporarily,  in  one  of 
the   storage  rooms   of   the    Lion    House. 

Next    year,    when    the    Administration    building    is 


ill  be  exhibited  in  the  picture  gallery, 
he     other     objects     in     the     National 
ELWIN  R.  SANBORN. 


OF   INTEREST   TO  ANGLERS 

A  CONFERENCE  of  anglers  is  to  be  held  in  New 
York  City  at  the  National  History  Museum  on 
November  11th,  at  8:15  p.  m.  Dr.  Henry  Van 
Dyke  will  preside  at  the  meeting,  when  general  dis- 
cussion will  be  invited  upon  topics  of  mutual  interest, 
particularly  existing  conditions  unsatisfactory  to 
fishermen  which  can  be  best  remedied  by  concerted 
action.  The  vicious  use  of  nets  and  spears,  pollution 
of  streams,  inadequate  game  laws,  unsportsman-like 
tackle,  etc.,  will  be  given  attention.  Papers  will  be 
read  by  Dr.  van  Dyke,  author  of  "Little  Rivers."  Dr. 
David  S.  Joidan,  President  of  Leland  Stanford,  Jr., 
University,  California,  Prof.  Barton  W.  Evermann, 
U.  S.  Fisheries  Bureau,  Prof.  Charles  F.  Holder, 
President  Santa  Catalina  Island  Tuna  Club  of  Cali- 
fornia, Mr.  Charles  Hallock,  Founder  of  "Forest  and 
Stream." 

Anglers  in  general  are  invited  to  attend  and  should 
find  the  proceedings  interesting  and  profitable.  Among 
the  prominent  Clubs  supporting  the  movement  are 
the  Santa  Catalina  Island  Tuna  Club,  National  Asso- 
ciation Scientific  Angling  Clubs,  Aransas  Pass  Tarpon 
Club,  several  State  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Asso- 
ciations, etc. 

ADVANCE   NOTICE 

THE  Fifth  Semi-Annual  Dinner  of  the  Canadian 
Camp  will  be  given  at  the  Hotel  Astor,  New 
York  City,  in  November  (date  to  be  determined 
shortly),  and  as  usual,  will  be  a  notable  affair.  The 
Committee  in  charge  is  working  to  outdo  all  previous 
occasions. 

This  customary  notice  is  sent  out  now,  inviting 
members  to  send  in  contributions  of  game,  fish, 
animals  or  birds.  All  such  should  be  shipped  direct 
to  Merchant's  Refrigerator  Co.,  Jersey  City,  N.  J., 
marked  "For  Canadian  Camp,"  and  should  reach 
there  before  November  10th.  Credit  will  be  given 
upon  the  menu  for  every  article  of  game  contributed. 


THE  SMELL  OF  THE  HEATHER 

'M  DREAMING  a  dream  of  the  sea  and  the  meadows. 
The  woodlands  and  mountains  where  firs  tower  tall; 

Of  dells  and  the  rest  in  their  cool,  quiet  shadows, 
But  the  smell  of  the  heather  is  over  them  all. 

I'm  dreaming  a  dream  of  the  lily's  caresses, 
Of  roses  like  censers  when  vesper-bells  call; 

The  perfume  that  breathes  in  a  loved  one's  tresses, 
But  the  smell  of  the  heather  is  over  it  all. 

So  over  each  bourne  whither  loving  thoughts  wander. 
O'er  flowers  that  are  fairest  when  their  petals  shall 
fall, 
As    the    dream    I    am    dreaming    grows    fond    and    yet 
fonder, 
Ah,  the  smell  of  the  heather  is  over  it  all. 

— Maurice  Smiley. 


EH 

NORTHWEST 
DERtftTMENT 

m 

Conducted  by  August  Wolf 


EER  and  bear  will  be  plentiful  in 
the  North  Fork  river  district  in 
northern  Idaho  this  fall  and  winter 
and  on  the  whole  the  season  should 
be  the  best  that  sportsmen  have  yet 
experienced  in  this  part  of  the 
country." 

Tuat  is  the  good  news  brought 
by  L.  T.  Wilson,  deputy  game 
warden  of  Idaho,  who  says  the 
hunting  season  has  been  the  best 
in  years,  as  the  mild  weather  of 
the  winter  and  summer  has  tended  to  increase  the 
game  abundantly.  Grouse  and  pheasants  are  also 
reported  to  be  plentiful  in  nearly  every  locality, 
while  Mr.  Wilson  reports  that  many  deer  and  bear 
have  been  seen  by  him  on  some  of  his  trips.  Ac- 
cording to  reports  from  the  ranchers  and  timber 
cruisers,  the  feeding  grounds  along  the  North 
Fork  river  show  signs  of  being  visited  by  these 
animals   in   great   numbers. 

Several  fishing  parties  returning  from  the  head- 
waters of  the  river  report  seeing  large  bands  of 
deer  and  one  fisherman  who  penetrated  far  up 
Independence  creek,  one  of  the  headwaters  of  the 
North  Fork,  says  he  ran  on  to  a  large  band  of 
elks  browsing  in  a  grassy  valley  in  the  heavily 
timbered  district  along  the  divide  between  the  Pend 
d'Oreille  district  and  the  Coeur  d'Alene  region.  He 
also  says  he  saw  evidences  of  many  more  elk  in 
that  neighborhood,  and  excellent  hunting  could  be 
had  there  if  the  snow  did  not  get  too  deep  to  make 
the  trip,  as  it  is  far  from  any  good  trails  and  can 
only  be  reached  by  following  the  streams  flowing 
south   to   the   river. 

The  belt  of  unexplored  land  northeast  of  Spokane, 
between  the  Kootenai  river  on  the  north  and  the 
Coeur  d'Alene  river  on  the  south,  is,  according  to 
the  reports  of  those  who  have  ever  traveled  through 
its  borders,  probably  the  greatest  fishing  and  hunt- 
ing grounds  in  the  Northwest  and  will  remain  so 
for  many  years  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of 
access.  Game  animals  of  all  kinds  inhabit  its 
mountains  and  valleys,  unmolested  by  hunters  in 
winter  on  account  of  the  deep  snows,  and  barely 
disturbed  in  summer  by  the  fisherman  or  timber 
s  probably  the  only  district  in  Idaho 
are  still  unmolested,  and  within  its 
;  many  small  lakes  and 
dustrious    animals,   which 


cruiser 

where    beaver 

great    timbered 

pools    inhabited    by   these 


still  enjoy  freedom  from  the  trapper  because  of 
their  secure  retreat  and  because  of  stringent  laws 
made   for   their   protection. 


Three  bears  in  a  day's  hunt,  all  taken  within 
fourteen  miles  of  Spokane,  is  the  new  record  of 
Tom  Hopper,  hunter  and  trapper.  Hopper,  ac- 
companied by  Ed  Hearst  and  Charles  Alsop  of 
England,  landed  his  game  in  the  foothills  northeast 
of  the  city  a  short  time  ago.  He  had  heard  of 
the  reports  of  annoyance  to  farmers  in  that  vicinity 
by  a  big  black  bear  which  was  in  the  habit  of 
robbing  orchards.  He  received  a  letter  from  his 
brother,  John  Hopper,  at  Foothill,  asking  him  to 
come  with  his  dogs  and  make  a  hunt  for  the  bear. 
The  trio  made  the  trip  and  hunted  one  day  without 
success,  but  the  following  day  Tom  bagged  the 
game.      Let   him    tell    it   in   his   own    words : 

"We  hunted  down  on  to  J.  D.  Judkin's  ranch, 
a  few  miles  east  of  Foothill.  The  dogs  struck  a 
scent  and  treed  a  big  black  bear.  After  disposing 
of  bruin  we  went  to  Smith's  ranch,  a  couple  of 
miles  north,  and  there  found  a  large  brown  bear 
busily  engaged  in  the  orchard.  The  dogs  sent  him 
up  a  tree,  too,  but  not  until  they  had  had  a  good 
fight.  After  we  had  killed  the  brown  bear  and 
gone  to  the  house,  I  concluded  that  there  must 
be  another  bear  around  there.  We  went  down,  and 
sure  enough,  we  landed  a  yearling.  All  of  the  bears 
wa  got  were  fat  and  in  good  condition." 


George  Ullery,  a  farmer  living  south  of  Palouse, 
and  brother  of  John  Ullery,  or  "Beaver  Jack,"  as 
he  was  best  known,  trapper  and  hunter  who  was 
lost  in  the  Bitter  Roots  on  the  middle  fork  of 
the  Clearwater  last  winter,  has  gone  in  search  of 
his  brother's  remains.  He  is  accompanied  by  State 
Senator  H.  M.  Boone,  C.  M.  Mecklem,  R.  T. 
Cox  and  J.  W.  Myers,  experienced  hunters.  The 
party  will  camp  at  the  summit  cabin,  which  was 
owned  by  "Beaver  Jack,"  and  conduct  their  search 
from  there.  Mr.  Ullery  has  no  hope  of  finding 
his  brother  alive,  but  is  anxious  to  locate  the  body 
and  give  it  decent  burial.  He  made  a  trip  into 
the  mountains  but  the  snow  was  too  deep  for 
him  to  accomplish  anything.  "Beaver  Jack"  left 
civilization  early  last  fall  for  his  cabin  in  the  moun- 
tains, intending  to  return  before  the  snows  came. 
He  did  not  return  and  during  the  winter  several 
searching  parties  went  into  the  mountains  to  look 
for    him,    but    could    find    no    trace    of    him    or    his 


Report  of  an  unusual  and  interesting  trial  for 
violation  of  the  Idaho  fish  and  game  law  has  been 
received     from     Chief     Deputy     W:arden     Livingston, 


296 


WESTERN  FIELD 


showing  that  it  was  held  in  the  woods,  and  the 
record  posted  on  a  tree  up  in  Fremont  county. 
Deputies  James  L.  Dunford  and  Theodore  France 
came  upon  a  fishing  party  near  Big  Springs  and 
intercepted  the  members.  One  man  produced  a 
license,  while  the  second  said  he  had  left  his 
license  at  camp  near  the  Stamp  ford,  eight  miles 
distant. 

The  deputies  agreed  to  go  to  C3mp  with  the 
man  to  get  the  license  and  had  covered  three  miles 
of  the  distance  when  the  man  confessed  he  had  none, 
and    was   placed   under   arrest. 

It  was  agreed  to  go  before  a  justice  of  the  peace 
and  give  the  prisoner  an  immediate  hearing,  when 
Mr.  Clark  of  St.  Anthony  rode  up  alongside.  He 
was  asked  where  was  the  nearest  justice  of  the 
peace.  He  replied  that  he  knew  of  none  closer 
than  himself,  and  said  that  he  was  prepared  to 
hold  court.  Formal  complaint  was  made,  court 
convened,  the  offender  pleaded  guilty  and  was  fined 
$10  and  costs,  which  he  paid,  and  was  dismissed, 
and,  paying  a  license,  returned  to  his  partner  short 
of  pocket  but  wiser.  On  a  tree  in  the  forest  is 
posted  a  copy  of  the  proceedings  of  the  case, 
wherein  J.  B.  Guttery  of  Nebraska  was  the  de- 
fendant,   that    all    offenders    may    beware. 

George  Gray  of  Silver  Lake,  near  Spokane,  caught 
one  of  the  largest  catfish  ever  taken  from  that  body 
of  water.  The  fish  was  of  the  blue  channel  variety, 
weighed  twenty  pounds,  and  was  more  than  two  feet 
in  length.  Mr.  Gray  was  fishing  for  carp,  and 
had  his  hook  baited  with  several  grains  of  sweet 
corn,  never  expecting  to  find  game  so  large.  This 
is  the  sixth  catfish  caught  in  Silver  Lake.  J.  M. 
Lathburn  brought  from  Eastern  points  fifty  each 
of  the  blue  channel,  and  mud  cat  and  the  flathead, 
ten  years  ago,  and  turned  tiiem  loose  in  the  lake, 
and   it    is   believed   there   are   no   others   in  the   State. 


The     fifth     one,     caught     two     weeks     ago,    weighed 
twenty-three  pounds. 

George  McMullin  of  Priest  lake,  has  returned 
to  Spokane.  He  says  fishing  at  the  lake  is  ex* 
cellent    and    the    fish    are    plentiful    and    biting    well. 

Sixty  thousand  trout  fry  are  on  the  way  to  the  lake. 
The  stock  is  not  depleted  but  it  is  the  intention  to 
keep  the  lake  fully  stocked.  It  will  require  three 
years  for  the  trout  to  mature  and  in  this  time 
there  will   be  thousands   of  fish  taken   from  the  lake. 

Seventy-five  varieties  of  northern  birds  have  just 
been  received  at  the  State  college  at  Pullman,  south 
of  Spokane.  They  were  captured  and  mounted  by 
Prof.  W.  T.  Shaw  of  the  college  faculty,  in  the 
last  two  months  in  the  neighborhood  of  Sitka.  The 
collection  contains  a  "surf  bird,"  which  is  rare, 
its   breeding  grounds   being  unknown. 

Henry  C.  Little,  George  Baker  and  Ralph  Spears, 
who  have  just  returned  from  their  annual  outing 
in  the  Cascade  mountains,  had  a  series  of  exciting 
and  interesting  experiences.  At  Wallow  Lake,  a 
small  body  far  up  in  the  hills,  they  began  their 
quest  for  mountain  trout,  which  they  found  in 
great  numbers  in  two  streams  flowing  into  the  lake, 
as  well  as  in  the  lake  itself.  During  the  last  day 
of  their  work  as  anglers  in  a  stream  called  Wasetka 
they  declare  they  succeeded  in  catching  132  speckled 
beauties  of  unusually  large  size,  the  aggregate  weight 
of  the  catch  being  one  hundred  pounds.  Two  black 
bears  were  despatched  on  the  trip  by  George 
Baker.  Mr.  Litt  killed  a  small  mountain  lion,  which, 
he  says,  he  shot  wholly  in  self-defense,  after  having 
backed  into  the  edge  of  the  lake  until  it  was  a 
case  of  drowning,  his  clothing  being  torn  to  shreds 
by   the   beast. 


AWAY  FROM  THE  MART 


l    WAY  from  the  mart!     Away  from  the  street! 
*    I'll  hie  to  the  greenwood  again; 
.way  from  the  bustle!     Away  from  the  heat! 
Where  I  may  build  castles  in  Spain — 
And  it's  O,  for  the  redwood  tree. 

And  it's  O,  for  the  babbling  brook, 
Where  I  may  read  God's  poetry 
From   His   unprinted  book. 


And  so  I'll  away!     Away! 

Away  to  the  heart  of  the  wood, 
And  live  again  a  perfect  day, 
In  the  midst  of  solitude — 

And  speak  to  the  redwood  tree 

That  shall  answer  me  never  a  word. 
And  O,  the  song  shall  be  sweet  to  me 
That  comes  from  the  throat  of  the  bird. 


I  am  sick  of  the  city's  grind, 

I  am  tired  of  the  city's  noise, 
I  long  again  for  the  fresh,  fresh  wind, 
And  the  whistle  of  barefooted  boys — 
And  it's  O,  for  the  singing  bird 

That  sways  on  the  swinging  limb, 
Where  this  soul  of  mine  may  be  sweetly  stirred 
In  joy,  'mid  blossoming. 


And  O,  my  heart,  my  heart, 

We'll  sit  by  the  babbling  stream, 
And  let  it  tell  us  we  are  part 
Of  Nature's  glorious  dream — 
And  so  I'll  away!     Away! 

Away  to  the  heart  of  the  wood. 
And  live  again  a  perfect  day, 
In  the  midst  of  solitude. 


-Sam  Exton  Foulds. 


G 
Q 
Q 


PHEASANT  BREEDING  FOR  STATE 
AND  PRIVATE  PURPOSES 


D 
D 


By  Forrest  Crissey, 

Author   of   "The   Country   Boy" 


HERE  was  one  irrepressible  subject 
of  discussion  and  conversation  at 
the  recent  convention  of  Game  Com- 
missioners and  Game  Wardens.  The 
future  of  the  English  pheasant  in 
America  was  the  topic  of  talk  con- 
stantly recurred  to,  both  in  conver- 
sation and  in  discussion  on  the 
floor.  Popular  interest  in  the  propa- 
gation of  this  splendid  game  bird  is 
bound  to  increase  for  many  years  to 
come.  This  is  inevitable.  Today, 
however,  the  question  is  mainly  vital  to  two  classes ; 
first,  game  commissioners  and  wardens,  whose 
official  duty  it  is  to  see  that  the  forests  and  prairies 
are  stocked  with  desirable  game  birds;  second, 
men  who  are  fortunate  to  own  or  control  private 
game  preserves  or  club  shooting  grounds.  These 
men  are  eager  for  the  fullest  and  the  clearest 
information  on  all  practical  phases  of  pheasant 
breeding.  To  meet  this  demand  for  definite  and 
reliable  details  it  is  necessary  to  keep  clearly  in 
mind  the  special  and  intensely  practical  view-point 
of  the  State  game  official  and  of  the  man  who  is 
trying  to  build  up   a  private  game  preserve. 

For  some  years  the  writer  has  been  a  constant 
visitor  at  the  game  farm  where  more  pheasants  are 
actually  hatched  and  reared  than  are  raised  at  any 
other  game  farm  in  America — probably  in  the 
world.  This  is  known  as  the  Wallace  Evans  Game 
Propagation  Farm,  four  miles  out  from  Oak  Park, 
Illinois,  and  only  fifteen  miles  from  the  Chicago 
City    Hall. 

A  dozen  or  fifteen  years  ago  when  serving  a 
Chicago  newspaper  as  a  special  feature  writer,  I 
found  a  boy  of  high-school  age  devoting  all  his 
spare  time  to  the  rearing  of  pheasants  in  the 
back  yard  of  his  father's  home  in  the  thickly 
populated  suburb  of  Oak  Park.  His  pens  and  run- 
ways were  only  a  few  hundred  square  feet  in  extent, 
but  he  raised  scores  of  these  beautiful  birds.  His 
father,  a  prosperous  manufacturer,  had  indulged 
in  pheasant  breeding  in  Wales,  and  the  boy  had 
come  naturally  by  his  passion   for  the   birds. 

Three  or  four  years  ago,  while  searching  for  an 
out-of-doors  "novelty  feature"  for  the  Saturday  Even- 
ing Post  of  Philadelphia,  I  thought  of  the  boy 
with  the  pheasants.  My  investigation  brought  as- 
tonishing disclosures.  His  back  yard  "pheasantry" 
had  grown  into  a  farm  of  one  hundred  acres,  devoted 
exclusively  to  the  propagation  of  game  birds — mainly 
pheasants.  Then  he  had  about  thirty-five  hundred 
birds. 

The  first  questfon  which  any  State  game  official 
will    ask    when    considering    his    course    with    regard 


to  the  breeding  of  English  pheasants  is  this:  "How 
much    does    the    public    care    about    the    birds?" 

The  publication  of  the  short  article  which  was 
written  after  my  first  visit  to  the  big  game  farm 
furnishes  a  very  definite  and  convincing  answer  to 
that  question.  More  than  four  thousand  letters 
were  received  as  a  direct  and  spontaneous  response 
to  the  article — which  called  for  no  response  what- 
ever. This  indicates  that  the  latent  popular  interest 
in  the  pheasant  in  America  is  almost  beyond  belief, 
and   not   easily   overestimated. 

A  visit  to  this  game  farm  today,  however,  dis- 
closes a  very  different  situation.  He  has  about 
four  thousand  staunch  young  English  pheasants, 
and  two  thousand  Goldens,  Reeves,  Silvers,  Amhersts 
and  Versicolors,  wild  ducks,  geese,  etc.,  practically 
all  of  them  in  the  pink  of  condition.  The  three 
fields  in  which  the  young  English  are  kept  occupy 
fully  fifteen  acres.  Standing  on  a  box  in  the  field 
in  which  the  young  English  of  the  first  hatch  of 
the  season  are  kept,  I  watched  sixteen  hundred 
birds  mass  themselves  in  a  swath  which  moved  in 
the  wake  of  the  feeder  as  he  came  towards  me, 
a  mobile,  living  wave  of  brown  atoms,  the  young 
cocks  just  showing  a  hint  of  the  gorgeous  plumage 
colors  which  will  be  theirs  after  they  have  passed 
the  period  of  adolescence.  Never  before  had  I 
looked  upon  such  a  sight,  and  I  do  not  believe 
there  is  another  place  in  this  country  where  it 
can  be  matched  or  even  approximated.  It  is  a 
visual  demonstration  of  the  fact  that  Wallace  Evans 
is  a  master  in  the  a-t  of  breeding  pheasants,  and 
that   these   birds   can    oe  raised   in    large   flocks. 

Some  pheasant  dealers — brokers  who  do  not  raise 
them — claim  that  it  is  as  easy  to  raise  pheasants 
as  to  rear  common  chickens.  This  is  not  true ; 
but  it  is  true  that  almost  any  person  who  can 
successfully  raise  chickens  in  large  quantities  can 
master  the  art  of  raising  pheasants.  The  young 
pheasant  is  more  highly  organized  and  more  sensi- 
tive to  defective  feeding  and  careless  handling  than 
are  chickens.  With  a  few  simple  suggestions  from 
an  experienced  breeder,  any  man  or  woman  who 
is  willing  to  take  pains  can  raise  a  flock  of 
pheasants  with  perhaps  as  small  a  percentage  of 
loss  as  with  thoroughbred  chickens.  But  the  trouble 
begins  when  the  breeding  is  done  on  anything  like 
a  large  scale.  I  would  trust  any  man  or  woman 
(especially  woman,  for  they  have  a  better  knack 
in  handling  young  and  delicate  creatures)  who  takes 
naturally  to  poultry  to  raise  a  flock  of  fifty  pheasants 
on  the  first  season's  trial  with  no  greater  a  per- 
centage of  loss  than  they  would  have  in  fancy 
chickens.  When  the  brood  goes  beyond  this  limit, 
and   you   are  dealing   with  them   in  masses,   the  ratio 


298 


WESTERN  FIELD 


of  hazard  and  loss  increases  greatly  ami  becomes 
cumulative,    as    it    were. 

There  is  no  disputing  the  fact  that  an  examination 
of  the  history  <>f  the  State  game  farms  of  this 
country  would  disdOM  a  rather  discouraging  array 
of  failures.  This  is  because  they  do  not  fortify 
themselves  with  practical  advice  from  practical 
breeders  familiar  with  our  American  conditions.  But 
let  me  make  the  point  with  emphasis  that  I  would 
rather  sell  five  trios  to  each  of  fifteen  private  indi- 
viduals in  any  given  State,  than  to  sell  five  hun- 
dred to  the  State  itself  to  be  massed  on  a  game 
farm  under  the  present  conditions  of  management 
which  obtain  on  most  State  game  farms.  First 
and  foremost  the  small  group  of  birds  will  escape 
the  plagues  and  ailments  which  are  almost  cer- 
tain to  come  as  a  result  of  segregation.  Next, 
the  private  individual  is  personally  and  directly 
interested  in  the  birds,  and  they  will  have  his 
personal  care  and  attention.  If  I  were  the  game 
commissioner  of  a  State  I  would  rather  take  my 
chances  on  dividing  up  a  thousand  stock  birds 
among  one  hundred  men  known  to  be  lovers  of 
game  and  sincerely  interested  in  stocking  the  State, 
than  I  would  to  keep  those  birds  massed  together 
on  a  State  game  farm  with  the  purpose  of  propa- 
gating enough  birds  to  stock  the  State  by  indis- 
criminate "liberation"  of  the  progeny.  In  other 
words,  a  far  better  percentage  of  success  can  be 
secured  from  a  dozen  birds  in  the  hands  of  an 
intelligent  amateur  vitally  interested  in  the  experi- 
ment than  by  a  thousand  birds  in  the  hands  of 
a  semi-professional  who  has  to  depend  upon  in- 
competent and  unreliable  help  to  assist  in  carrying 
out  his  plans.  Unless  he  has  had  years  of  actual 
experience  in  raising  pheasants  in  this  country  his 
plans  are  likely  to  be  theories  only.  Raising 
pheasants  in  England  is  a  very  different  matter 
from  raising  them  in  America — as  some  States  which 
have  imported  game-keepers  from  England  have 
found  out  by  sad  experience.  American  condi- 
tions present  distinctly  American  problems,  and 
certain  old  country  practices  that  work  well  there 
are   not   entirely    suitable   here   in   America. 

No  private  individual  having  a  liking  for  game 
birds  and  a  desire  to  see  his  own  country  place 
or  the  woods  of  his  locality  stocked  with  pheasants 
need  fear  to  start  the  breeding  of  these  birds  on  a 
small  scale.  The  smaller  his  flock  the  less  its 
liability  to  disease,  and  the  greater  the  assurance 
that  the  birds  will  find  an  abundance  of  the  varieties 
of  food  required  for  their  best  nourishment.  The 
moment  his  brood  flock  becomes  at  all  numerous 
he  will  do  well  to  begin  the  gradual  liberation  of 
his  surplus  birds.  By  this  method  he  will  not 
only  gradually  acquire  an  intimate  and  practical 
knowledge  of  the  details  and  dangers  of  pheasant 
breeding,  but  he  will  also  have  the  satisfaction  that 
comes  from  an  increasing  flock  of  birds  liberated 
under  right  conditions — and  that  satisfaction  is  not 
a  small  one  to  the  man  who  has  the  true  sports- 
man's   fondness    for    the   finest    of    game    birds. 

A  few  years  of  this  close  work  with  a  small 
flock  will  fit  the  amateur  to  handle  pheasants  in 
large  numbers.  What  would  be  the  result  if  men 
of  means  who  have  country  places  would  follow 
this  plan?  In  a  surprisingly  short  time  each  State 
would  have  a  corps  of  intelligent  pheasant  breeders — 


a  permanent  corps  whose  work  could  not  be  affected 
or  overturned  by  the  vicissitudes  of  politics  or  the 
changes   of    State    administration. 

Again,  it  is  natural  that  this  plan  would  afford  wide 
distribution  of  the  birds,  which  implies  not  only 
a  wider  distribution  of  the  pleasure  they  afford 
the  sportsmen  and  nature  lovers,  but  a  certainty 
of  a  greater  yearly   increase   in  the  State. 

There  is  no  State  in  the  Union  where  natural 
conditions  are  more  favorable  to  the  raising  of 
pheasants  than  California.  But  if  the  plan  of  indi- 
vidual action,  independent  of  the  State,  were  fol- 
followed  to  any  general  extent,  California  would  be 
richly  stocked  with  pheasants  in  almost  an  incredibly 
short  time,  and  there  would  be  certain  appropriate 
uses  in  the  movement.  California  is  the  State  of 
beauty;  there  is  no  bird,  it  seems  to  me,  more 
beautiful  than  the  pheasant,  and  to  have  the  fields 
and  woods  of  beautiful  California  stocked  with 
these  splendid  feathered  creatures  would  seem  to 
fulfil  a  natural  order  of  things.  Again,  California 
is  the  land  of  private  estates,  of  seats  of  wealth 
where  the  pleasures  of  the  out-of-doors  world  are 
legitimate  pursuits.  Hundreds — even  thousands — of 
men  in  California  are  amply  able  and  admirably 
situated  to  breed  small  flocks  of  pheasants  upon  their 
estates.  And  this  applies  to  those  country  places 
which  are,  perhaps,  too  modest  and  limited  to  be 
called  "estates."  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that 
a  considerable  stretch  of  timber  is  required  to  shelter 
successfully  a  colony  of  liberated  pheasants.  A  little 
grove  or  a  patch  of  undergrowth  will  serve.  And 
when  it  comes  to  rearing  a  small  flock  in  con- 
finement only  a  few  hundred  square  feet  of  "back 
yard"    or    a    garden    space    is    required. 

Thus  far  I  have  spoken  only  of  the  English 
pheasant,  as  the  greatest  public  interest  centers 
in  that  because  it  is  the  ideal  game  bird.  However, 
the  aviary  varieties  of  pheasants  should  not  be 
overlooked,  for  the  reason  that  they  may  be  raised 
at  high  prices,  compared  with  the  English,  and 
handled  on  a  very  small  space.  Any  person  having 
even  a  very  modest  back  yard  can  make  a  rea- 
sonably handsome  profit  raising  one  or  two  varieties 
of  "show"  pheasants.  A  pair  of  silver  or  golden 
pheasants,  in  full  plumage,  will  cost  the  beginner 
about  $16,  while  a  pair  not  in  full  plumage  can 
probably  be  had  for  $12.  Pure  bred  Amhersts,  not 
in  full  plumage,  but  right  for  the  next  breeding 
season,  can  be  bought  for  $25,  while  a  pair  of 
full  plumaged  Reeves  can  be  had  for  about  the 
same  price.  The  English  Ring  Neck  pheasants 
cost  $5  to  $6  per  pair  now,  but  the  price  advances 
each  month  up  to  the  commencement  of  the  breed- 
ing   season. 

Tht  beginner  in  pheasant  raising  should  adhere 
strictly  to  the  rule  of  avoiding  importing  birds  or 
eggs;  freshly  imported  birds  are  not  dependable 
for  breeding  the  first  season  after  importation, 
and  imported  eggs  are  generally  injured  by  the 
long  sea  journey,  the  chicks  hatching  from  them 
being  usually  too  weak  to  survive.  Another  thing 
to  be  avoided  is  that  of  buying  birds  from  brokers 
or  dealers  who  have  not  themselves  hatched  and 
reared  them.  There  are  numerous  dealers  of  this 
kind  who  pick  up  the  birds  anywhere  they  can  find 
them,  handle  them  as  they  would  merchandise,  and 
know    little    or    nothing    about    the    individual    birds 


ajS^^flJiij^mfc»^|i^^|^^^tt^^d|fcljfe 


.    ■ 


>«»& 


*3kJ* 


<*r 


*%—'■  ■ 


The  Wallace  Evans   Pheasant   Ru 


It  EST1  R      FU  LD 


which  they  sell  or  the  conditions  linger  which 
they  have  been  reared.  What  is  still  more  iraj 
they  are  unable  to  give  their  customers  any  prac- 
tical advice  or  suggestions  regarding  the  care  and 
propagation  of  the  birds.  And  right  here  it  should 
be   said    « ith    ■  that    the   man 

who     l.ii  will     alwaj       find     himself    in 

■  ntig  from  someone  who  is  a  profes- 
sional and  an  expert  in  the  art.  This  most  signifi- 
cant fact  has  been  impressed  upon  me  both  from 
my  own  experience  in  raising  a  flock  of  English 
and  Goldena  on  my  own  country  place,  and  from 
my  observations  as  a  visitor  at  the  great  pheasant 
farm  at  Oak  Park.  There  are  probably  very  few 
weeks  in  the  year  when  thai  place  is  not  visited 
bj  Government  and  State  Game  Commissioners  and 
Game  Wardens  who  have  found  themselves  facing 
s<. me  acute  emergency  or  difficult  problem  and  have 
come  tO  Mr.  Evans  for  consultation  with  regard 
to  the  details  of  breeding,  feeding,  housing,  hand- 
ling, and  liberating  birds.  Then,  too,  the  daily 
mail  coming  to  Mr.  Evans 
eral  letters  of  inquiry  and 
Who  hare  bought  birds  frc 
tion    is    always    freely    given 


seldom    without    sev- 

sultation    from    those 

him.      This    informa- 

it    is    of    course    to 


Mr.    Evan's    inti  from    the 

birds    which   he   has    sent    out. 

While,  as  1  have  said  before,  there  is  ni 
whatever  that  State  game  farms  for  tile  propa- 
gation of  pheasants  are  in  the  right  line  and  arc 
to  be  commended,  at  the  same  time  it  is  equally 
certain  that,  at  least,  at  the  beginning,  the  State 
would  find  it  less  expensive  to  secure  birds  for 
liberation,  with  a  view  to  stocking  the  State  as 
rapidly  as  possible,  from  reliable  breeders  who 
have  already  demonstrated  their  ability  to  raise  the 
birds  in  large  numbers.  In  other  words,  the  State 
Game  Commissioner  is  wise  who  decides  not  to 
go  into  pheasant  breeding  upon  too  large  a  scale 
at  first,  starting  in  on  a  comparatively  small  scale 
and  at  the  same  time  sending  out  for  liberation,  into 
well  selected  territory,  a  goodly  number  of  birds 
each  year  which  have  been  secured  from  a  di 
able  breeder,  whose  stock  is  strong,  sturdy  and 
adapted  to  that  particular  locality.  The  photographs 
reproduced  for  the  illustration  of  this  article  offer 
a  visnal  demonstration  of  the  fact  that  at  least 
one  breeder  in  this  country  has  mastered  the  art 
of   raising  pheasants    in    immense    numbers. 


LADIES'  CONTINUOUS  GOLF  TOURNAMENT   AT  DEL  MONTE 


By  Arthur  Inkersley 


HE  results  of  the  first  five  weekly 
contests  in  .the  Ladies'  Continuous 
Handicap  Golf  Tournament  on  the 
Del  Monte  links  during  the  months 
of  June,  July  and  August  have  al- 
ready been  given  in  full  in  the 
columns  of  Western  Field,  but,  for 
the  sake  of  clearness  and  complete- 
ness, may  be  recapitulated  briefly 
here.  The  first  contest,  on  Satur- 
day, June  1st,  was  won  by  Miss 
E.  A.  W.  Morgan ;  the  second,  on 
June  8th,  by  Mrs.  H.  R.  Warner;  the  third,  on 
June  1 5th,  by  Miss  Cornelia  W.  t  Armsby ;  the 
fourth,  on  June  22d,  by  Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser ;  the 
fifth,    on    June   29th,    by    Miss   Alice    M.    Warner. 

The     sixth     contest,     on     July     6th,     brought     out 
five    competitors,    whose   scores   were   as   follows : 

Ladies'  Continuous  Tournament. 
Sixth  Contest.  Saturday.  July  6,  1907. 


Competitors 

Out 

In 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser 

Miss  E.  A.  W.  Morgan.. 

Mrs.  H.  K.  Warner 

Miss  Maud  Bourn... 

61 

63 
63 

85 
99 

51 
59 

60 
67 
69 

112 
122 
123 
152 
168 

12 
14 
12 

12 
24 

100, 
108 

lit 
1411 
144 

As  shown  by  the  above  table,  Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser 
won.      On    Saturday,    July    13th,    there    was    no    con- 

:  test.  On  Saturday,  July  20th,  Miss  Armsby,  who 
played     from     scratch,     returning     a     gross     and     net 

!  score  of  102,  and  Mrs.  Warner,  120  less  IS  net 
102,  tied  for  first  place,  Mrs.  Loeser  beiiTg  third  with 
117  less  12  net  105.  The  tie  was  played  off  over 
eighteen  holes  on  Monday,  July  22,  Mrs.  Warner 
winning. 

On  Saturday,  July  27th,  there  were  four  com- 
petitors, a  new  one  being  Mrs.  William  Ely  of 
Xew  York,  who  was  on  her  way  home  after  a 
long  stay  at  Coronado.  Mrs.  Ely's  strength  being 
comparatively  unknown,  she  was  placed  at  scratch, 
but  was  evidently  treated  hardly  by  the  handi- 
capper,  for  her  gross  score  was  20  strokes  higher 
than  that  of  Mrs.  -  Loeser,  who  received  three 
strokes.      The    scores    are    shown    in    the    table: 


Miss    E.    A.    W.    Morgan 


Ladies'  Continuous  Tournament. 
Seventh  Contest,  Saturday.  July  '. 


Competitors 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Mrs.  R.  M.  Loeser 

101 
120 
126  ■ 

121 

3 
6 
9 

0 

98 

Mrs.  H.  R.  Warner 

114 

117 

Mrs.  W.  Elv.   . 

121 

As  shown  in  the  above  table,  Mrs.  Loeser  was 
treated  too  leniently  by  the  handicappers,  as  her 
gross  score  was  nineteen  strokes  and  her  net  score 
sixteen     strokes     better    than     those     of     her     nearest 


302 


U  I  SSTERN  FIELD 


Rita  West 


competitor.  The  fact  that  she  played  a  better  game 
than  she  had  hitherto  done  in  the  tournament  ac- 
counted, however,  for  more  than  half  of  the  nine- 
teen strokes.  The  winning  was  Mrs.  Loeser's  third 
and  placed  her  ahead  of  her  fellow-contestants  in 
the    struggle    for    the    stiver    pitcher. 

On  Saturday,  August  3d,  the  list  of  competitors 
was  swelled  by  the  addition  of  Mrs.  Herbert  Munn, 
woman  champion  of  the  Coronado  Country  Club 
and  of  the  Southern  California '  Golf  Association 
for  1907;  Mrs.  Wilbur  F.  George,  of  the  Sacra- 
mento Golf  Club  and  Monterey;  and  Mrs.  J.  Leroy 
Nickel  of  the  San  Francisco  Golf  and  Country 
Club.  Mrs.  Munn,  of  course,  played  from  scratch; 
Mrs.  George  received  22  and  Mrs.  Nickel  24 
strokes.  Mrs.  George's  handicap  proved  about 
right  but  Mrs.  Nickel's  was  altogether  too  liberal, 
as  her  gross  score  was  only  five  strokes  higher 
than  that  of  Mrs.  Munn,  from  whose  estimated 
score  of  99  (which  proved  to  be  exactly  the  score 
she  turned  in)  as  a  basis  the  handicaps  were 
calculated.  Mrs.  Nickel's  large  handicap  was  based 
on  her  high  qualifying  score  (72,  77,  total  149) 
in  the  competition  for  the  championship  of  the 
California  Women  Golfers'  Association  on  the  links 
of  the  Los  Angeles  Country  Club  in  April,  and 
on    the    fact    that    she    received    the    limit    handicap 


on  the  Inglcside  course  of  the  San  Francisco  Golf 
and  Country  Club.  The  scores  arc  shown  in  the 
table: 

1     WHi  1  |  .IKNAMI   \  r 

NlN  l  Ji   l  ONI  RSI  .  S  \  ruRD  M     \i  <.t  -  i    i 


Comp 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Mrs 

[04 
US 
lm 
99 
106 
130 
135 

24 

14 
0 

-'4 

Mr- 

Mr- 

Mrfl 

Mr- 

Mi- 

Mis 

As  shown  in  the  above  table,  Mrs.  Nickel's  net 
score  was  13  strokes  better  than  that  of  Mrs. 
George,  almost  equaling  Mrs.  Loeser's  run-away 
on    the   previous   Saturday. 

On  Saturday,  August  10th,  the  tenth  contest 
took  place,  there  being  four  competitors,  two  of 
whom,  Mrs.  Porter  and  Miss  Florence  Ives,  both 
members  of  the  San  Francisco  Golf  and  Country 
Club,  took  part  in  the  tournament  for  the  first 
time.  Profiting  by  the  experience  of  the  previous 
Saturday,  the  handicapper  gave  no  higher  handicap 
than  20  strokes.  The  winner,  as  shown  in  the 
table  below,  was  Miss  Morgan,  who  returned  the 
best     score     that     she     had    handed     in     during    the 


ladiks'  continuous  tol'rnamknt. 
Tenth   Contest.  Saturday.  Ai 


Competitors              Out 

In 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Mi--  Morgan 

Mrs.  Porter 

Mrs.  George 

5S 

M) 
53 

52 

", 
54 
56 

110 
113 
114 
(09 

20 
IS 
10 

90 
95 
104 

Miss   Morgan   won   for  the   second  time.     The  con- 
test   was    a    curious    one    from    the    fact    that,    had     I 
all    the     competitors    played    on    equal    terms,    their 
scores    would    have    been    nearer    together    than    their    i 
net   scores,  after  handicaps  had  been  deducted.     Miss 


Plaving    Out    of   a    Bunke 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZIXE 


303 


p?  If 

v  >T        P 

D 

htf     r*            raW 

Mr 


R.   M.   Loeser 


nd  Golf  Trophies  at  Del   Monte 


Ives'  score  for  the  eighteen  holes  should  have 
been  better,  for,  while  her  53  was  quite  the  best 
for  the  first  nine,  her  56  was  the  worst  for  the 
second    nine. 

On  Saturday,  August  17th,  Miss  Morgan  and  Mrs. 
George  were  the  only  two  competitors,  the  latter 
receiving  four  strokes.  On  the  first  nine  holes  Mrs. 
George's  score,  without  taking  account  of  her  handi- 
cap, was  ten  strokes  better  than  Miss  Morgan's ; 
but  on  the  second  nine  Miss  Morgan  played  more 
strongly,  until  at  the  17th  the  scores  of  both  were 
107.  With  her  handicap  of  four  strokes  still  un- 
touched and  only  one  hole  to  play,  the  match 
seemed  almost  a  certainty  for  Mrs  George,  but 
she  drove  from  the  18th  tee  into  the  ditch  and  took 
13   to  the  hole.     The  scores  were  as   follows: 

Ladies'  Continuous  Tournament. 
Eleventh  Contest.  Saturday.  August  17. 


Competitors 

Out 

In 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Mis 

Mr 

s  Morgan 

.  George 

63 

53 

SO 

67 

113 
120 

0 
4 

113 
116 

Miss  Morgan  won  for  the  third  time,  having  at 
this  point  the  same  number  of  victories  to  her 
credit  as   Mrs   Loeser. 

On  Saturday,  August  24th,  the  twelfth  contest 
took  place,  the  only  two  competitors  being  Miss 
E.  A.  W.  Morgan,  scratch,  and  Miss  Anita  Meyer, 
receiving  12  strokes.  Miss  Meyer  won  with  a  score 
122  less  12,  net  110,  Miss  Morgan's  gross  and  net 
score  being  120.  Miss  Morgan  drove  into  the  chap- 
arral to  the  right  of  the  tenth  tee  and  the  hole 
cost    her     14    strokes. 

On  Saturday,  August  31st  (the  opening  day  of 
the  Lawn  Tennis  Tournament),  the  thirteenth  and 
last  weekly  competition  of  the  Women's  Continuous 
Tournament  took  place,  the  number  of  competitors 
being  swelled  by  the  addition  of  Mrs.  J.  Leroy 
Nickel  of  the  Menlo  Golf  and  Country  Club,  and 
Miss  Rita  West,  of  the  Victoria  Club,  Riverside, 
who  had  come  to  take  part  in  "golf  week,"  which 
began  on  Monday,  September  2d.  The  other  three 
competitors  were  Mres  E.  A.  W.  Morgan,  Miss  Edna 
Bowman    of    San    Jose    and    Mrs.    W.    F.    George    of 


Monterey.  Miss  West,  who  is  the  strongest  woman 
golfer  of  Riverside,  was  placed  at  scratch,  but  she 
had  never  played  on  the  Del  Monte  course  before 
and  was  quite  unused  to  turfed  putting-greens.  The 
scores     were     as     follows : 

Ladies'  Continuous  Tournament. 
Thirteenth  Contest.  Saturday.  August  31. 


Competitors 

Out 

In 

Gross 

Handi- 
cap 

Net 

Mrs 
Mi- 
Mrs 

Mi- 
Mis 

J.  Leroy  Nickel. . . . 
E.  A.  W.  Morgan.. 

W.  F.  George 

Edna  Bowman 
Rita  West 

54 
53 
55 
72 
60 

45 

53 

59 
62 

99 

106 
110 
131 
122 

10 
10 
10 
0 

94 
96 
100 
121 
122 

Mrs.  Wm.   Ely,   New  York 


304 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Miss    £  caused   by    the 

fact  thai  !    into  the  county 

road  and  took  eighteen  to  the  hole.  .Mrs.  Nickel's 
name  was  engraved  on  the  silver  pitcher  for  the 
second  time,  she  having  won  the  only  other  com- 
petition in  which  she  plaj  i  d,  on  August  3d.  Her 
however,  jusl  i-*  Mrs.  Warner's  two, 
were  of  no  practical  use,  Miss  Morgan  and  Mrs. 
Loeser   each   having   three   wins   to  their  credit. 

The  tie  between  Mrs.  Loeser  and  Miss  Morgan 
for  first  prize  was  played  off  on  Saturday,  Sep- 
tember  7th,  the  List  day  of  "golf  week,"  Mrs. 
Loeser,  who  had  left  Del  Monte  a  month  or  so 
previously,  coming  down  from  Stanford  University 
especially  for  the  contest,  which  was  over  eighteen 
holes,    medal     score,    with     handicap.       Mrs.     Loeser, 


whose  best  score  during  the  tournament  was  I'll 
(made  on  July  27th)  played  from  scratch,  and 
Miss  Morgan,  whose  lowest  score  was  ]n  . 
on  August  31),  received  five  strokes.  Both  players 
were  nervous  and  off  their  game,  Mrs.  Loeser 
whining  with  a  gross  and  net  score  of  111.  Miss 
Morgan's  returns  being  121  less  5  net  116.  Mrs. 
Loeser  captured  the  silver  pitcher,  upon  which  are 
engraved  the  dates  of  the  thirteen  competitions  and 
the  names  of  the  winners.  Miss  Morgan  received 
a  handsome  silver  powder-box.  Thus  passed  into 
private  ownership  two  trophies  which  created  more 
commotion  than  any  ever  presented  by  the  famous 
Hotel  and  which  for  three  months  were  objects 
of    the    keenest    rivalry. 


^ 


THE  CHAMPIONSHIP  TOURNAMENT  OF    THE 

PACIFIC  STATES  LAWN  TENNIS  ASSOCIATION 

AT  DEL  MONTE 


By  Arthur  Inkersley. 


of     players 


OR  many  years  past  the  annual  cham- 
pionship tournaments  of  the  Pacific 
States  Lawn  Tennis  Association  have 
been  held  at  San  Rafael,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  the  heat  there  in 
the  first  and  second  weeks  of  Sep- 
tember is  often  so  great  as  to 
prostrate  the  players.  This  year 
it  was  decided  to  accept  the  offer 
of  the  management  of  Del  Monte 
and  to  hold  the  tournament  at  that 
beautiful  spot,  where  the  tempera- 
moderate  and  there  is  no  danger 
ng  oppressed  by  excessive  warmth. 
Two  new  bituminized  courts  were  constructed 
especially  for  the  tournament  on  a  large  round 
terrace  situated  between  the  east  annex  of  the 
hotel  and  the  Laguna  del  Rey.  The  terrace  was 
made  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  ago  for  a  fountain, 
which  was  never  erected,  and  supplied  an  ex- 
cellent site.  The  foundation  on  which  the  courts 
were  laid  is  solid  and  well  drained,  so  that  there 
is  no  fear  of  the  surface  cracking  from  the  swelling 
or  disturbance  of  the  ground  beneath.  The  bitu- 
minized surface  was  laid  by  the  San  Francisco  con- 
tractors. Fay  Brothers,  who  built  the  courts  in 
Golden  Gate  Park  and  at  several  clubs  and  private 
houses.  The  courts  are  well  and  evenly  lighted, 
the  players  standing  on  the  north  and  south  sides 
of  the  net.  As  the  trees  and  shrubs  round  the 
terrace  stand  some  distance  away  from  it  and  are 
not  tall  the  players  get  an  unobstructed  light 
and  no  confusing  shadows  are  cast  on  the  courts. 
For  a  short  time  during  the  day  the  slm  is  in 
the  eyes  of  a  player  serving  from  north  to  south, 
but  at  this  period  the  recess  is  taken  for  rest  and 
luncheon.  The  courts  are  nearly  surrounded  by 
grassy  slopes,  upon  which  spectators  can  sit  to 
watch  the  games.  The  gravel  walks  and  the  steps 
leading    from    the   higher    ground   to   the   terrace   pro- 


vide ample  space  for  chairs  and  benches,  on  which 
a  large  number  of  spectators  can  be  accommodated. 
Altogether,  from  the  point  of  view  of  players  and 
spectators,  the  courts  are  ideal ;  and,  when  the 
beauty  of  their  surroundings  is  taken  into  account, 
it  is  probable  that  no  courts  in  the  country  equal 
them. 

So  great  was  the  interest  felt  in  the  tournament 
that  almost  all  the  strongest  players  of  either  sex 
were  attracted  to  Del  Monte;  the  one  notable  ex- 
ception being  Miss  May  Sutton,  woman  champion 
of  All  England  and  also  of  Wales.  During  the 
tournament  Miss  May  Sutton,  fresh  from  her 
triumphant  British  tour,  was  winning  new  honors 
at  Niagara*on-the-Lake,  Ontario,  and  did  not  reach 
her  Pasadena  home  until  September  14th.  The 
famous  Sutton  family,  however,  was  well  represented 
by  Mrs.  B.  O.  Bruce  (Ethel  Sutton)  of  Santa 
Monica,  winner  of  the  woman's  championship  of 
Southern  California  in  1906,  and  Miss  Florence 
Sutton,  winner  in  1907.  Miss  Hazel  Hotchkiss, 
holder  of  the  championship  in  Women's  Singles, 
and  joint  holder  of  the  Championship  in  Women's 
Doubles  and  Mixed  Doubles;  Miss  Golda  Myer 
of  San  Francisco ;  Mrs.  Robert  Farquhar  (who 
as  Marion  Jones  was  woman  champion  of  the 
United  States),  and  Miss  Ethel  Ratcliffe,  co-holder 
of  the  championship  in  Women's  Doubles,  made 
up    a    most    interesting    group    of    women    players. 

The  list  of  men  included  Melville  Long  of  the 
California  Tennis  Club  of  San  Francisco,  holder  of 
half-a-dozen  championships;  Maurice  McLoughlin ; 
Charles  Foley,  holder  (with  Fred  Adams)  of  the 
championship  in  Men's  Doubles  and  (with  Miss 
Hazel  Hotchkiss)  of  the  championship  in  Mixed 
Doubles;  George  Janes,  Carl  Gardner,  Harold  Getz, 
Robert  Strachan  and  Robert  N.  Whitney  of  San 
Francisco;  A.  E.  Bell,  T.  C.  Bundy,  Simpson  Sinsa- 
baugh  and  Harold  Braly  from  Southern  California ; 
Reuben    G.    Hunt    and    Hamilton    Murdock    of    Ala- 


THE  PACIFIC  CO.  1ST  MAGAZINE 


305 


Doubles  on  the  Del   Monte  Courts 


meda:  Albert  Charlier,  a  German  cavalry  officer 
who  has  played  much  in  Europe,  and  Ramon  F. 
R.   de    Reyntiens   of    Belgium    and    San    Francisco. 

Play  began  on  Saturday,  August  31st,  and,  with 
the  exception  of  Tuesday  afternoon,  September  3d, 
when  heavy  rain  compelled  a  postponement,  and 
Sundays,  when  there  were  no  tournament  matches, 
continued  without  interruption  until  the  evening  of 
Admission  Day.  The  play  throughout  was  of  a 
high  class  and  the  struggle  for  the  championship 
in  Men's  Singles  between  Maurice  McLoughlin, 
challenger,  and  Melville  H.  Long,  holder,  for  the 
title,  was  one  of  the  most  brilliant  that  has  taken 
place  in  the  history  of  the  Pacific  States  Lawn 
Tennis  Association.  The  schedule  comprised  six 
events — the  championships  in  Men's  Singles,  Wo- 
men's Singles,  Men's  Doubles,  Women's  Doubles, 
Mixed  Doubles,  and  Junior  Singles.  When  the 
ent  ended  on  the  evening  of  September  9th, 
single  champion  of  1906  retained  his  title; 
all  had  made  gallant  struggles  to  keep  their 
Without  making  an  attempt  to  indicate 
:h  days  the  various  matches  were  played, 
ent  will  be  taken  separately  and  its  details 
followed    to    an    end. 

There  being  more  than  forty  entries  in  the  MEN'S 
SINGLES,  ten  men  were  drawn  in  the  preliminary 
round,  play  in  which  began  on  Saturday,  August 
31st.      The    results   were   as   follows : 

J.  F.  Cassell  beat  F.  K,  Hunt  7—5,  4—6,  6—4; 
Harold   Eraly  beat   E.   P.    Fmnega'n  6—2,  1—6,  6—0; 


tourn;i 


though 
honors. 


each 


Harold  Getz  beat  Ward  Dawson  6—4,  5—7,  6—1; 
T.  W.  Hendricks  beat  B.  F.  Nourse  6—3,  2—6, 
6 — 4 ;  and  Hamilton  Murdock  won  from  J.  A. 
Landsberger. 

In  the  first  round  George  J.  Janes  beat  W.  W. 
Bacon  6—2,  6—1  ;  E.  G.  Galusha  beat  R.  Cornell 
by  default ;  Maurice  McLoughlin  beat  Carl  Gardner 
11—9,  6 — 4;  G.  Guerin  won  from  A.  C.  Blumen- 
thal  by  default;  Herbert  Long  beat  Marius  Hotch- 
kiss  6—2,  11—13,  6—3;  R.  K.  Hunter  won  by 
default;  F.  R  Woodbury  beat  J.  F.  Cassell  6—2, 
2—6,  6—3;  Harold  Braly  beat  Harold  Getz  6—1, 
3—6,  6—2;  T.  W.  Hendricks  beat  Hamilton  Mur- 
dock ;  G.  Busch  beat  J.  Harper  6—0,  6—2  ;  T.  C. 
Bundy  beat  A.  C.  Spaulding,  1906  champion  of 
Yale;  R.  F.  R.  de  Reyntiens  beat  C.  B.  Hopper; 
Charles  Foley  beat  F.  Budgett  6 — 1.  6 — 4;  Simpson 
Sinsabaugh  won  from  Harry  Rolfe ;  R.  D.  Gatewood 
won  from  Albert  Charlier  by  default;  and  A.  E. 
Bell    won    from    Robert    N.    Whitney    by    default. 

In  the  second  round  Janes  beat  Galusha  6 — 1; 
6 — 1;  McLoughlin  won  from  Guerin  by  default; 
Long  beat  Hunter  6 — 3,  4 — 6,  6 — 1 ;  Braly  beat 
Woodbury  6—1,  6—1  ;  Hendricks  beat  Busch  7—5, 
6—1;  Bundy  beat  de  Reyntiens  2—6,  6 — t,  6—3; 
Sinsabaugh  beat  Foley  6 — 4,  6—4;  Bell  beat  Lieut. 
Gatewood    by    default. 

In  the  third  round  McLoughlin  beat  Janes  6 — 1, 
6—2;  Long  beat  Braly  0—6,  8—6,  6—4;  Bundy 
.beat  Hendricks  6—1.  6—4;  and  Bell  beat  Sinsa- 
baugh   6—3,    6 — 4. 


306 


U  I'M  lh'\    FIELD 


Miss  Florence  Sutton 


In  the  semi-final  round  McLoughlin  beat  Herbert 
Long  6—1,  6—2,  and  Bell  beat  Bundy  6—3,  5—7, 
6—4. 

The  final  round  in  Men's  Singles  was  played  on 
Saturday,  the  7th,  Maurice  McLoughlin  of  San 
Francisco  beating  Alonzo  E.  Bell,  former  champion 
of  the  Pacific  States,  6 — 4,  4—6,  6—4,  7—5,  and 
winning  the  All  Comers'  Tournament.  On  the  after- 
noon of  Admission  Day  there  was  a  large  and 
brilliant  gathering  to  watch  the  contest  between 
McLoughlin,  challenger,  and  Melville  Long,  holder 
of  the  title.  Both  played  excellent  tennis,  the 
first    set    requiring    twenty-four    games    to    decide    it. 

When  the  score  stood  11 — 10,  Long  had  ad- 
vantage three  times  but  could  not  make  the  point 
necessary  to  win  the  set.  McLaughlin  won  the 
11th,  12th  and  13th  games,  giving  him  the  first 
set  13 — 11.  The  second  set  was  keenly  contested 
and  went  to  McLaughlin  6 — 4.  Long  took  the 
third  set  6 — 4  and  the  fourth  7 — 5,  so  that  the 
score  stood  "two  sets  all."  Many  of  the  specta- 
tors were  inclined  then  to  favor  Long's  chances, 
but  his  determined  opponent,  though  suffering  from, 
a     chafed     foot,     took     the    first    five     games     of    the 


fifth    and    deciding     set     straight,       Long    took    the 
next     four,     the     score     reading     5 — 4     in     favor     of  . 
McLoughlin.      McLoughlin    won    the    last    game,    the 
match    and    the    title. 

Play  in  the  WOMEN'S  SINGLES  began  on 
Saturday,  August  31st,  the  entries  being  Mrs.  B.  0. 
Bruce,  Mrs.  Robert  Farquhar  and  Mrs.  J.  W. 
Hendricks  of  Santa  Monica;  Miss  Bessie  Valleau 
of  Alameda,  Miss  Golda  Myer  of  San  Francisco 
and  Miss  Florence  Sutton  of  Pasadena.  Mrs.  B.  O. 
Bruce  and  Miss  Golda  Myer  drew  byes.  In  the 
preliminary  round  Miss  Bessie  Valleau  beat  Mrs. 
Hendricks  3 — 6,  6 — 4,  6 — 3;  and  Miss  Florence 
Sutton  beat  Mrs.  Robert  Farquhar  7 — 5,  6 — 4  in 
a  most  inteersting  match.  Mrs.  Farquhar,  though 
she  had  not  competed  in  a  tournament  since  she 
lost  the  national  championship  five  years  ago,  played 
a  strong  game,  making  many  fine  returns,  but  was 
beaten  by  the  superior  steadiness  and  accuracy  of 
Miss    Florence    Sutton. 

In  the  first  round  of  Women's  Singles,  Miss 
Florence  Sutton  beat  her  sister,  Mrs.  B.  O.  Bruce, 
6 — 3,  6 — 1 ;  and  Miss  Golda  Myer  defeated  Miss 
Bessie  Valleau  6—0,  6—1.  This  brought  Miss 
Florence  Sutton  and  Miss  Golda  Myer  together 
in  the  final  round  on  Friday  morning,  the  6th. 
Miss  Sutton  proved  altogether  too  strong  for  Miss 
Myer,  beating  her  6 — 0,  6 — 0.  On  Monday  after- 
noon, September  9th,  Miss  Florence  Sutton,  chal- 
lenger, met  Miss  Hazel  Hotchkiss,  holder  of  the 
championship,  and,  though  Miss  Hotchkiss  is  a 
strong  girl  and  played  a  good  game,  having  a 
chop  stroke  that  is  hard  to  return.  Miss  Sutton 
wore  her  down,  beating  her  in  straight  sets  6 — 4, 
6 — 3     and    winning    the     1907     championship. 

Play  in  MEN'S  DOUBLES  began  on  Wednes- 
day, September  4th,  fifteen  couples  being  entered. 
In  the  first  round  Woodbury  and  Hopper  beat 
Landsberger  and  Guerin  6 — 2,  6 — 2;  Sinsabaugh. 
and  Hendricks  beat  Cassell  and  Gowan  3 — 6,  6 — 1, 
6 — 1 ;  M.  Long  and  Gardner  beat  Bacon  and  Dawson 
6 — 4,  6 — 4;  Rolfe  and  Herbert  Long  beat  Budgett 
and  Harper  6 — 3,  6 — 4  ;  Bundy  and  Spaulding  beat 
Gatewood  and  Murdock  by  default ;  Bell  and  Braly 
beat  Whitney  and  Driscoll  6 — 3,  6 — 3 ;  Janes  and 
McLoughlin  beat  de  Reyntiens  and  Blumenthal 
6 — 2,  6 — 1 ;  Weihe  and  Henry  drew  a  bye. 

In  the  second  round  Sinsabaugh  and  Hendricks 
beat  Woodbury  and  Hopper  6 — 4,  6 — 2 ;  M.  Long 
and  Gardner  beat  H.  Long  and  Rolfe  6—4,  6 — 4, 
3—6,  6— 3;  Bundy  and  Spaulding  defeated  Bell  and 
Braly  4—6,  9—7,  6—3;  and  Janes  and  McLoughlin 
won    from    Weihe   and    Henry    6 — 3,    6 — 4. 

In  the  semi-final  round  Sinsabaugh  and  Hen- 
dricks beat  M.  Long  and  Gardner  6 — 3,  2 — 6,  6 — 4; 
and  Janes  and  McLoughlin  defeated  Bundy  and 
Spaulding    7—5,    9—7. 

In  the  final  round  Janes  and  McLoughlin  beat 
Sinsabaugh  and  Hendricks  6—2,  4—6,  8—10,  6—3, 
6 — 0  and  won  the  All  Comers'  Tournament.  In  the 
challenge  match  for  the  title  of  champions  of 
1907  Janes  and  McLoughlin  were  too  strong  for 
Fred  Adams  and  Charles  Foley,  holders,  beating 
them  7 — 5,  6 — 2,  6 — 1.  Both  teams  played  an 
excellent  game,  but  the  speed  and  accuracy  of 
Janes  and  McLoughlin  proved  irresistible.  The 
champions  of  1906  held  out  well  against  their 
formidable    opponents    in    the    first    set    but    lost    the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


307 


next  two  by  large  margins.  This  match  was  played 
on   Saturday,   the    7th. 

In  the  WOMEN'S  DOUBLES  Miss  Golda  Myer 
and  Mrs.  Farquhar  beat  Miss  Valleau  and  Mrs. 
Hendricks  6—1,  6—4;  and  Miss  Florence  Sutton 
and  Mrs.  Bruce  defeated  Miss  Hazel  Hotchkiss  and 
Miss  Ethel  Ratcliffe,  the  champions  of  1906,  6—3, 
6 — 1.  In  the  final  round  on  Saturday,  the  7th, 
Miss  Florence  Sutton  and  Mrs.  B.  O.  Bruce  beat 
Mrs.  Robert  Farquhar  and  Miss  Golda  Myer  in 
straight  sets  6 — 1,  6 — 1,  winning  the  1907  cham- 
pionship   in    Women's    Doubles. 

Play  in  the  MIXED  DOUBLES  was  set  down 
to  begin  on  Tuesday,  September  3d,  but  the  heavy 
rain  that  fell  in  the  afternoon  caused  delay.  In 
the  preliminary  round  Miss  Valleau  and  Spaulding 
defeated  Miss  Daniels  and  Hopper  6 — 1,  6 — 2;  Mrs. 
Farquhar  and  Bell  beat  Mrs.  Bruce  and  Bandy 
6 — 4,  2 — 6,  6 — 0.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hunter  drew  a 
bye. 

In  the  first  round  Miss  Florence  Sutton  and 
Sinsabaugh  beat  Miss  Myer  and  Janes  6 — 3,  5 — 7, 
6 — 3 ;  Miss  Ratcliffe  and  McLoughlin  beat  Miss 
Valleau  and  Spaulding  6—3,  1—6,  6—3;  Mrs.  Far- 
quhar and  Bell  won  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hunter 
by  default;  Miss  Hotchkiss  and  Foley  defeated  Mr. 
and    Mrs.    Hendricks    6—1,    6—1. 

In  the  second  round  Mrs.  Farquhar  and  Bell  beat 
Miss  Hotchkiss  and  Foley  8 — 6,  1—6,  6 — 4;  and 
Miss  Sutton  and  Sinsabaugh  defeated  Miss  Ratchliffe 
and  McLoughlin  6 — 4,  6 — 0.  The  match  in  which 
Mrs.  Farquhar  and  Bell  were  pitted  against  Miss 
Hotchkiss  and  Foley  was  a  brilliant  and  keenly 
fought  contest,  the  winners  actually  taking  only 
fifteen    games    to    the    losers'    sixteen. 

In  the  final  match  on  Saturday  Miss  Florence 
Sutton  and  Simpson  Sinsabaugh  defeated  Mrs.  Far- 
quhar and  A.  C.  Bell  6—2,  1—6,  6 — 4  and  cap- 
tured  the   championship    in    Mixed    Doubles   for   1907. 

Play  for  the  championship  in  Junior  Singles,  open 
to  young  men  under  nineteen  years  of  age  who 
have  not  won  a  championship  in  an  open  tourna- 
ment, began  on  Thursday,  the  5th.  In  the  pre- 
liminary round  Ward  Dawson  beat  Fuchs  6 — 1, 
6—1,  and  Reigle  beat  Cawston  6—3,  6—8,  6—1. 
In  the  first  and  semi-final  round  Harold  Getz 
beat  Reigle  6 — 1,  6 — 1  and  Robert  Strachan,  the 
smallest  player  in  the  tournament,  defeated  Ward 
Dawson  of  Southern  California  7—5,  4—6,  6—4. 
In  the  final  round  on  Admission  Day  Robert 
Strachan  beat  Harold  Getz  in  a  closely-fought  five- 
set  match  6—3,  7—9,  2—6,  7—5.  Getz  won 
two  of  the  first  three  sets  and  had  a  lead  of 
30 — 0  on  the  fourth  but  the  steadiness  and  good 
judgment  of  Bobbie  Strachan  proved  too  strong 
for   him. 

On  the  night  of  Admission  Day  the  players 
gathered  at  a  dinner  in  the  private  dining-room  of 
the  Hotel  Del  Monte.  Judge  John  H.  Hunt  of  the 
Superior  Court  of  .San  Francisco  presided  and 
presented  the  trophies  to  the  winners,  to  each  of 
whom    he    made    pleasant    and    appropriate    remarks. 

The  whole  tournament  was  exceedingly  success- 
ful and  brought  out  some  of  the  best  play  that  has 
ever    been    seen    in    the    State.      With    the    exception 


of  Miss  May  Sutton  and  Nat  Browne,  all  the 
strong  players  from  Southern  California  were  on 
hand,  while,  except  Grant  Smith,  who  is  not  play- 
ing now,  Percy  Murdock  and  Sumner  Hardy,  nearly 
every  good  northerner  was  present.  The  honors 
of  the  tournament  were  divided  evenly  between 
Northern  and  Southern  California,  the  championships 
in  Men's  Singles,  Men's  Doubles  and  Junior  Singles 
being  won  by  San  Francisco;  while  the  champion- 
ships in  Women's  singles,  Women's  Doubles  and 
Mixed  Doubles  were  won  by  representatives  of 
Southern  California.  Miss  Florence  Sutton  and 
her  sister,  Mrs.  B.  O.  Bruce,  having  a  share  in 
all    the    Southern    championships. 

While  Del  Monte  is  further  from  San  Francisco 
than  San  Rafael  is.  it  is  nearer  to  Los  Angeles 
and  the  other  cities  of  Southern  California.  The 
climate  is  much  more  suitable  for  contests  of 
skill  and  endurance  than  that  of  Marin  County 
in  September  and  the  courts  are  not  to  be  excelled. 
The  management  of  the  Hotel  Del  Monte  treats 
all  who  come  there  to  take  part  in  sporting  events 
so  generously  that  there  is  little  doubt  that  the 
championship  tournaments  of  the  Pacific  States  Lawn 
Tennis  Association  will  be  held  there  for  many  years 
to  come.  No  place  better  adapted  and  certainly 
none    more    beautiful    can    be    found. 


i£e*3fc5fc*r:*:5taE3e* : 


I  THE 


DOG 


FASHIONS  IN  DOGS 


HERE  arc-  fashions  in  dogs  as 
well  as  in  ladies'  hats,  and 
while  the  "style"  does  not 
change  quite  so  often,  it 
nevertheless  changes  too  of- 
ten for  the  good  of  the  dogs. 
That  is,  for  the  good  of  some 
dogs. 

The  fashions  are  generally 
the  result  of  one  or  more  en- 
terprising dog  brokers  who  get  hold  of 
a  certain  breed  and  then  persistently  force 
it  into  favor  by  getting  one  or  two  into 
the  hands  of  the  "right  parties."  The  breed 
then  becomes  the  fad — until  the  same  or 
some  other  broker  sees  a  chance  to  make 
a  stake  by  working  the  scheme  on  some 
other  breed.  Then  if  the  "right  parties" 
take  up  the  new  dog  it  soon  becomes  the  rage, 
and  prices  go  up.  accordingly. 

One  of  the  peculiarities  connected  with 
fashions  in  dogs  is  the  fact  that  seldom 
have  the  handsome  breeds  been  favored 
by  being  the  fashion.  At  one  time  the 
whippet  or  small  greyhound  was  the  fashion 
in  England,  and  while  the  whippet  never 
gained  a  footing  in  America,  the  common 
greyhound  became  a  pronounced  favorite 
with  the  ladies  of  the  southern  states.  With 
these  dogs  "good  form"  required  that  the 
fancier  should  have  several  and  whether 
in  her  carriage,  on  horseback  or  afoot, 
she  must  be  attended  by  the  whole  pack. 
And,  as  fashions  generally  go  by  extremes, 
the  graceful,  clean-cut,  aristocratic  grey- 
hound was  sent  to  the  coursing  field  and 
the  unshapely,  sniffling  pug  became  the 
style.  The  pug,  possibly  because  of 
feminine  pity  for  his  deformity,  held  the 
carpet  for  a  long  time,  until  his  "friends," 
breeding  to  intensify  his  deformities,  made 


him  so  repulsive  that  even  the  most  de- 
praved tastes  had  to  discard  him.  For  a 
good  many  years  following  the  dethroning 
of  the  pug  there  was  no  breed  that  could 
lay  claim  to  being  the  real  fashion,  for 
during  these  years  poodles,  toy  terrier.*. 
St.  Bernards,  and  toy  spaniels  each  had 
their  fanciers;  and  each  strove,  with  vary- 
ing success,  for  the  mastery.  At  one  time 
it  looked  as  if  the  holy  breed  was  going 
to  become  the  rage.  But  his  size  was 
against  him  in  the  first  place,  and  secondly, 
as  grand  in  size  as  the  St.  Bernard  was, 
breeders  strove  for  still .  greater  size,  and 
judges  awarded  the  ribbons  to  size,  irre- 
spective of  quality  or  soundness.  With 
such  senseless  breeding  and  judging  it  only 
took  a  few  years  to  make  this  grand  breed 
a  pack  of  degenerate  cripples,  unworthy  of 
public  notice. 

In  England  the  Russian  wolfhound — a 
large  setter-coated  greyhound — gained  a 
considerable  popularity  through  the  favor 
of  the  Duchess  of  Newcastle,  and  bid  fair 
at  one  time  to  become  the  real  thing.  In 
America,  however,  the  breed  never  gained 
any  popularity,  and  soon  lost  its  favor 
even   in    England. 

Following  the  popularity  of  the  pug.  the 
foxterrier  was  the  first  that  could  lay  claim 
to  being  really  the  fashion.  This  smart 
little  dog  became  really  popular  with  the 
fanciers  of  both  sexes  and  for  years  formed 
one  of  the  largest  classes  at  our  shows. 
But  its  reign  was  not  a  protracted  one,  for 
the  cocker  spaniel  men  conceived  the  idea 
of  spoiling  a  useful  dog  in  order  to  find 
a  market  for  it  as  a  ladies'  pet.  The  cry 
for  the  "long  and  low"  was  taken  up  and 
of  course  the  professional  judges  had,  in 
order  to  curry  favor  with   the   breeder-,   to 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


309 


put  the  "long  and  low"  to  the  front.  But 
it  was  not  enough  to  make  a  lap  dog 
out  of  this  bright  little  breed,  and  so  the 
same  influences  put  another  nail  in  its  coffin 
by  reducing  the  weight  limit.  The  pert 
little  fellow  with  his  large,  speaking  eyes 
soon  gained  the  love  of  the  ladies,  and  he 
became  the  fashion  for  a  time.  But  his 
reign,  too,  was  short;  for  the  collie  was 
gaining  popularity  at  the  same  time,  to 
such  extent  that  he  was  able  to  take  his 
position   on   debatable   ground. 

During  all  this  time  Boston  had  been 
evolving  a  new  breed  with  designs  on  the 
spokes  of  the  universe,  and  strenuous  efforts 
were  being  made  to  force  the  Boston  cross- 
bred to  the  first  place  in  public  favor.  It 
was  a  long  time  before  the  wiseacres  of 
the  American  Kennel  Club  could  be  induced 
to  recognize  the  Boston  terrier  as  a  breed 
and  give  it  a  place  in  the  pedigree  register. 
But  even  after  this  was  accomplished  it' 
took  years  of  persistent  work  to  induce  the 
rest  of  the  country  to  follow  the  lead  of 
Boston  and  take  this  new  terrier  to  its 
heart.  While  the  Bostons  were  fighting 
their  campaign  in  America,  the  French  bull- 
dog, with  a  similar  origin  to  the  Boston 
terrier,  and  the  toy  Spitz  were  striving  for 
the  mastery  in  England,  and  in  the  mean 
time  gained  some  little  headway  in  Amer- 
ica.     But    as    the    spokes     radiate     from     the 


hull,  so  the  little  crooked-tailed  terrier 
radiated  from  Boston  into  the  public  fancy 
and  became  the  real  fashion,  a  place  it 
still  holds. 

An  effort  is  making  by  some  whose  tastes 
incline  to  the  outre  to  dethrone  the  little 
Boston  with  that  hideous  deformity  known 
as  the  English  bulldog.  But  there  is  no 
danger  of  this  effort  proving  successful. 
The  Boston  is  homely  enough  to  meet  the 
requirements  of  oddity,  whereas  the  bull- 
dog not  only  violates  every  law  of  beauty 
and  refinement  but  every  law  of  nature  as 
well.  The  eye  with  a  love  for  the  beautiful, 
the  symmetrical  and  refinement  in  lines,  will 
never  take  to  an  animal  that  has  been 
bred  into   a   hereditary  monstrosity. 

The  Boston  terrier  has  now  had  a  con- 
siderable reign,  and  under  the  laws  of  fash- 
ion's eccentricity  it  is  nearly  time  for  the 
heir  apparent  to  ascend  the  throne.  Just 
what  this  heir  apparent  will  be  remains . 
to  be  seen.  Present  indications  are  point- 
ing very  strongly  to  the  bull  terrier  as  the 
"next  of  kin."  If  the  bull  terrier  had  a 
more  pleasing  expression  and  a  handsome 
eye  he  would,  with  the  beautiful  lines  of 
his  body  and  limbs,  prove  a  worthy  suc- 
cessor. At  any  rate  let  lis  hope  that  the 
new  ruler  will  be  something  handsome  and 
sensible. 


THE  CAMPBELL  SETTER 


MR.  C.  B.  WHITFORD,  in  writing  of  the 
Campbell  strain  of  setters  common  in 
the  southern  states  in  the  early  seventies, 
says :  "These  dogs  did  not  have  a  very  long 
pedigree.  They  started  from  a  black  setter 
called  Mason's  Jeff  and  a  lemon  and  white 
setter  called  "Old  Fannie."  So  far  so  good. 
But  Mr.  Whitford's  article  in  simply  making 
this  statement  gives  little  idea  of  the  origin  of 
the  Campbell  strain. 

Mr.  YVhitford  will  remember  that  during  the 
early  nineties  there  was  a  long  discussion  in 
the  sporting  press — principally  the  American 
Field — regarding  the  origin  of  this  breed,  the 
principal  disputed  point  hinging  on  the  breed- 
ing of  "Old  Fannie"  or  McNair's  Fannie,  a 
lemon  and  wjhite  bitch  presented  to  McNair 
by   Colonel    Blanton   Duncan,   a   gentleman   at 


one  time  quite  prominent  in  sportsmen's  circles 
of  the  South.  Colonel  Duncan  was  at  that 
time  living  in  Los  Angeles.  The  writer  there- 
fore interviewed  him  on  the  subject  of  the  dis- 
cussion and  found  him  fully  posted,  both  on 
the  origin  bf  the  bitch  known  as  McNair's 
Fanny  and  the  dog  called  Mason's  Jeff.  Colonel 
Duncan  stated  that  Fannie,  the  bitch  he  pre- 
sented to  McNair,  was  a  daughter  of  a  brace 
of  Laverack  setters  imported  from  England  by 
a  gentleman  whose  name  I  cannot  now  recall. 
The  Colonel  declared  positively  that  there 
was  no  question  of  this ;  that  her  sire  and  dam 
were  known  as  Laverack  setters  in  .the  com- 
munity where  they  were  owned  and  that  he 
was  certain  that  their  owner  had  their  pedi- 
grees. The  Colonel  also  knew  Mason's  Jeff 
and  pronounced  him  nearly  if  not  quite  a  pure 


310 


l-RN  FIELD 


Gordon.  The  history  he  gave  of  Jeff,  as  near 
as  I  can  remember  at  this  late  day,  was  that 
he  was  sired  by  a  puppy  from  a  brace  of  Gor- 
dons brought  to  the  state  of  Georgia  by  one 
Sir  George  Gore,  and  that  the  dam  of  Jeff  was 
also  claimed  to  be  a  pure  Gordon. 

As  Colonel  Duncan  showed  perfect  famili- 
arity with  these  dogs,  their  breeders,  and  their 
work  afield,  there  can  be  little  doubt  of  the  cor- 
rectness of  his  statement.  He  described  Fannie 
as  a  wonderful  bird  finder,  untiring  in  her 
work,  as  staunch  as  a  rock  and  always  exer- 
cising wonderful  judgment  in  seeking  for 
birds. 

The  rest  of  Mr.  Whitford's  article  regarding 
the  various  outcrossing  on  the  progeny  of  Jeff 
and  Fannie  is  correct,  and  from  the  good 
record  of  the  first  of  the  Campbell  strain  I 
have  always  considered  it  very  unfortunate 
that  the  Campbells  did  not  try  and  keep  their 
Laverack-Gordon   nick   as    pure    as    possible. 


Thai  this  nick  was  an  excellent  one  is  proven, 
not  alone  by  its  record  in  our  early  field 
trials,  but  as  well  by  the  testimony  of  those 
who  have  seen  its  representatives  in  the  field 
before  the  good  effect  of  the  nick  had  become 
neutralized  by  pernicious  outcrosses. 

Had  this  nick,  or  the  result  of  combining  the 
individual  characteristics  of  Jeff  and  Fanny  ap- 
peared twenty  or  thirty  years  later,  when  more 
attention  was  being  given  to  the  breeding  of 
dogs  and  more  known  of  the  effects  of  strong 
hereditary  transmission  of  certain  faculties,  the 
Campbells  would  have  appreciated  the  ad- 
vantage of  keeping  the  strain  they  so  for- 
tunately fell  into,  as  near  in  its  purity  as  it 
could  be  maintained,  with  at  least  the  possible 
result  of  establishing  in  America  a  breed  of 
setters  equal  to  the  best,  and  one.  when 
crossed  in  its  purity  onto  the  Llewellin,  might 
have  produced  a  dog  better  than  either. 


PACIFIC  COAST  FIELD  TRIALS 


THE  next  meet  of  the  Pacific  Coast  Field 
Trials  Club  will  be  the  twenty-fifth  an- 
nual trials  of  the  club.  Beginning  in  a 
very  small  and  imperfect  way,  with  but  few 
dogs  of  any  merit  to  enter  the  competition  of 
the  field,  with  no  large  kennels  to  draw  from 
and  no  professional  handlers  to  train  for  those 
who  could  not  spend  the  time  to  develop  their 
own  dogs,  its  trials  at  first  were  crude  and  the 
competition  poor.  As  could  only  have  been 
expected  with  a  club  isolated  as  it  was,  and 
with  only  one  state  to  support  it,  the  club  met 
with  varying  success.  Errors  were  made,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  in  its  management,  and  at 
times  it  found  itself  under  financial  embarrass- 
ment. At  times,  too,  the  prospects  of  the 
future  looked  anything  but  encouraging. 

But  whatever  the  situation,  whatever  the  em- 
barrassment, the  club  in  the  main  has  always 
been  composed  of  true  sportsmen,  ready  and 
able  to  meet  any  contingency  that  arose  and 
sweep  away  any  obstacle  from  its  path  of 
progress.  Thus  for  twenty-five  years  it  has 
never  missed  holding  trials.  Death  has  taken 
away  many  of  its  early  members,  financial  re- 
verses caused  others  to  withdraw,  while  still 
others  have  lost  interest  in  the  sport  and 
ceased  their  attendance  and  membership.  Of 
its  charter  members  Judge  C.  N.  Post,  of  Sac- 


ramento, is  the  only  one  left,  and  there  are 
only  three  or  four  remaining  that  can  be 
classed  as  among  its  pioneers. 

But  there  has  always  been  just  as  good  new 
men  to  take  the  places  of  the  older  members 
who  from  various  causes  dropped  out,  and  the 
interest  in  the  trials  has  in  the  main  pro- 
gressed with  an  increasing  ratio. 

The  feature,  however,  that  needs  at  present 
the  earnest  attention  of  the  club  is  the  en- 
couragement of  the  one-dog  men.  who  have 
almost  ceased  to  be  patrons  of  the  trials.  The 
reason  for  this  is  obvious.  The  principle  on 
which  the  awards  have  been  made  in  late 
years  offers  no  inducement  to  the  sportsman 
to  have  his  future  hunting  companion 
(broken?)  for  the  kind  of  competition  he 
would  have  to  engage  in  if  entered  in  the  trials, 
and  it  is  not  reasonable  to  expect  that  he  will 
pay  a  professional  trainer  a  hundred  dollars  or 
so  to  instil  into  a  good  puppy  the  very  repre- 
hensible habits  that  it  will  take  months  of  hard 
work  to  break  him  of,  even  if  he  is  not  forever 
ruined. 

The  field  trial  education  of  a  dog  should  be 
upon  the  very  lines  that  makes  for  the  ideal 
shooting  companion.  He  should  be  taught 
obedience  to  command ;  to  work  to  the  whistle 
and   hand ;   to  be  absolutely  staunch  on  point 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


311 


and  back.  He  should  be  fast,  of  course,  but 
no  faster  than  his  nose.  He  should  range  wide 
in  search  of  birds  but  not  waste  his  time  on 
ground  that  even  a  greyhound  wouldn't  look 
for  a  jackrabbit  on. 

The  field  trial,  it  is  true,  is,  or  should  be,  to 
the  development  of  the  bird  dog  what  the 
race  course  is  to  the  development  of  the 
roadster.  We  expect  to  see  the  dog  that  is 
started  in  the  stake  keyed  up  to  concert  pitch, 
the  same  as  we  expect  to  see  the  trotter 
brought  to  the  score  strong  on  the  bit  and 
keen  for  the  word.  But  would  we  expect  the 
race-course  to  assist  in  the  development  of 
the  high-strung,  stylish  yet  tractable  driving 
horse,  if  his  lessons  on  the  track  were  to  kick 
himself  out  of  the  harness,  demolish  the  sulky 
and  bolt  the  track  and  the  whole  enclosure? 
Yet  the  very  counterpart  of  this  is  what  we  are 
teaching  our  field  trial  dogs  to  do,  and  by  the 
grace  of  our  judges  the  dog  that  will  not  do  it, 
no  matter  how  good  his  performance  as  a 
bird  finder,  is  relegated  to  the  rear.  It  is 
time,  therefore,  for  the  members  of  the  club 
to  ask  themselves  the  question,  "Will  the  in- 
terest in  the  club  continue  with  this  perversion 
of  the  real  purposes  of  a  trial?"     There  can 


be  but  one  answer,  for  the  sign  of  decadence 
is  already  to  be  seen.  Two  of  the  heaviest 
patrons  of  the  trials  have  already  dropped  out, 
one  making  the  statement  that  he  had  spent 
over  $20,000  on  field  trial  dogs  and  wasn't 
presently  in  possession  of  a  decent  dog  to 
shoot  over.  Here  is  the  proof  positive  of  the 
position  I  am  taking.  If  this  system  of  judg- 
ing the  trials  does  not  result  in  the  develop- 
ment of  one  shooting  dog  with  the  expenditure 
of  $20,000,  then  the  principle  is  wrong  and  is 
doing  an  injury  to  the  dogs  entered  for  com- 
petition, and  the  patrons  of  the  trials. 

If  the  present  interest  in  the  trials  is  to  be 
maintained  and  increased  in  the  future,  then 
the  system  of  judging  must  be  such  as  to 
bring  to  the  front  the  dogs  that  show  the 
greatest  ability  as  bird  finders,  the  best  judg- 
ment in  seeking  such  places  as  birds  are  wont 
to  use ;  dogs  that  work  to  the  gun,  are  staunch, 
and  show  a  disposition  that  is  easy  of  control. 
Such  dogs  can,  and  should,  be  fast  and  wide 
rangers,  but  without  these  other  qualifications 
in  a  marked  degree,  speed  and  range  is  only 
a  detriment,  destroying  what  little  usefulness 
they  may  possess. 


THE  AMERICAN    KENNEL   CLUB   MUDDLE 


THE  widespread  dissatisfaction  with  the  American 
Kennel  Club,  like  Banquo's  ghost,  will  not  down. 
The  harder  the  little  clique,  who  have  taken  it 
upon  themselves  to  run  all  the  dog  affairs  for  the  Am- 
erican people,  try  to  excuse  their  actions  and  justify 
their  dictatorial  ways,  the  more  widespread  the  general 
contempt  for  the  clique  becomes.  The  kennel  press, 
which  is  generally  an  excellent  mirror  of  public  sen- 
timent, is  now  unanimous  in  the  condemnation  of 
these  self-appointed  regulators  of  American  dogdom. 
The  Field  and  Fancy  has  the  following  to  say  regard- 
ing one  of  the  A.  K.  C.'s  "unexplained  explanations": 
"Driven  to  the  desperation  of  an  'official  denial'  the 
poor,  little,  innocent  and  much  persecuted  A.  K.  C. 
worm  has  turned  and  says  through  the  columns  of 
its  official  organ,  the  American  Kennel  Gazette,  that 
it  has  not  now  nor  did  it  ever  have  any  intentions  of 
building  a  club  house.  It  is  to  smile,  for  we  don't 
think  any  one  ever  for  a  moment  was  so  foolish  as  to 
suppose  that  the  A.  K.  C.  ever  thought  of  a  club 
house,  but  neither  is  there  any  one  who  does  not 
know  that  there  were — and  probably  are  still — a  few 
prominent  ones  in  the  A.  K.  C.  who  have  long  had  a 
deep  seated  desire  for  a  building  devoted  to  themselves. 
The  official  denial,  viewed  in  this  light,  is  a  farcical 
sidestep  that  will  be  useful  (possibly)  in  compounding 
the  bucket  of  whitewash  that  will  have  to  be  pretty 
freely  employed  before  the  moon  has  changed  her 
many  times.     The  official  reason  for  the  pub- 


lication of  the  official  denial  is  as  follows:  'As  long  as 
the  rumor  was  mere  banter  or  confined  to  the  ring  of 
prejudiced  spite  the  directorate  of  the  A.  K.  C.  saw 
fit  to  ignore  it.'  Fine  and  very  touchingly  forbearing 
that,  but  'there  is,  however,  another  side  to  the  ques- 
tion. It  is  possible  that  the  general  public,  whose 
affairs  are  faithfully  attended  to  by  the  American 
Kennel  Club,  may  take  the  reiterated  falsehood  as  an 
accomplished  fact.'  Selah!  Hence  the  official  denial. 
To  the  famous  'unexplaining  explanation*  has  been 
added  an  undenying  denial,  that  is  futile  and  foolish, 
and  only  useful  in  the  fact  that  it  contains  the  valu- 
able information  that  the  'general  public'  are  'faith- 
fully attended'  to  by  the  A.  K.  C." 

This  certainly  would  be  very  valuable  information 
if  it  were  true.  But  when  this  clique  has  mulcted  the 
American  fancy  out  of  something  like  $20,000,  over 
and  above  its  running  expenses,  junketing  trips  and 
big  salaries  for  its  officers,  it  looks  as  if  "general 
public  has  been  faithfully  attended  to"  in  about  the 
same  faithful  manner  that  the  footpad  attends  to  hit 
victims. 

The  North  Texas  Field  Trial  Association  has  been 
recently  organized  with  Fort  Worth  as  its  head- 
quarters. The  new  club  expects  to  hold  its  inaugural 
trials  during  the  week  beginning  December  10.  This 
makes    three    field    trial    clubs    now    in    the    state    of 


A  VOLUME  ON  SUPERSTITION  AND  EDUCATION. 


UPERSTITION  and  Education  is  the 
title  of  a  most  interesting  volume 
of  235  pages  issued  lately  from  the 
University  of  California  press.  The 
author  is  Professor  Fletcher  Bascom 
i  Ires&lar  of  the  department  of  edu- 
cation. The  importance  and  value 
of  a  study  of  this  character  will  be 
clear  when  one  reflects  how  large  a 
number  of  even  the  educated  classes 
cannot  declare  themselves  out  of  the 
bonds  of  superstitious  faith  and 
belief.  Owen  Wister  put  it  humorously  but  effectively 
in  the  Virginian  when  he  said  "I  expect  in  many 
growed-up  men  you'd  call  sensible  there's  a  little  boy 
sleepin' — the  little  kid  that  onced  was — that  still  keeps 
his  fear  of  the  dark."  The  conclusions  reached  in  the 
volume  are  based  upon  a  classified  list  of  superstitions 
prepared  in  the  following  manner.  The  work  began 
some  ten  years  ago,  and  was  carried  on  chiefly,  if 
not  altogether,  among  the  young  people  in  the  State 
Normal  Schools  at  Los  Angeles  and  Chico.  Blank 
slips  of  paper  were  handed  to  the  students  in  the  class 
room,  and  they  were  asked  to  write  out  with  care 
all  the  superstitions  they  knew,  relying  each  upon  his 
or  her  own  memory.  Following  the  statement  of  the 
superstition  the  author  was  instructed  to  indicate 
one  of  three  things:  no  belief,  partial  belief,  or  full 
belief.  In  this  way  specimens  were  gathered  from 
875  students.  The  list  used  by  the  writer  in  his 
pamphlet  was  compiled  on  the  basis  of  this  large 
collection  of  specimens.  They  have  been  grouped 
under  general  headings  determined  by  the  nature  of 
the  data  which  the  superstitions  themselves  claim  to 
interpret.  For  example,  the  first  group  has  to  do  with 
superstitions  regarding  salt,  the  second  regarding 
bread  and  butter,  the  third  tea  and  coffee,  the  fourth 
plants  and  fruit,  the  fifth  fire,  the  sixth  lightning. 
and  so  on  indefinitely,  some  of  the  remaining  groups 
being  the  rainbow,  the  moon,  stars,  birds,  owls,  pea- 
cocks, chickens,  cats,  dogs,  frogs  and  toads,  fish,  spiders, 
snakes,  mirrors,  spoons,  brooms,  horseshoes,  numbers, 
singing,  crying,  stepping  on  cracks,  sneezing,  precious 
stones,  wishbones,  death  and  funerals,  dreams,  and 
weddings.  In  each  group  the  specimens  are  so 
arranged  as  to  bring  together  those  most  alike,  always 
giving  precedence  to  the  general  or  generic,  the  list 
gradually  approaching  the  specific. 

BELIEF  AND  SUPERSTITION 

The  author's  comments  on  belief  and  superstitions 
are  most  instructive.  The  number  of  separate,  specific, 
and  reliable  confessions  made  by  875  different  in- 
dividuals was  7176.  Of  these  3951  are  frank  ex- 
pressions of  disbelief,  2132  of  partial  belief,  and  1093 
of  full  belief.  Combining  those  of  partial  and  full 
belief  we  have  3225  confessions  of  belief  as  against 
3951  of  disbelief,  or  55.1  per  cent  of  disbelief  to  44.9 
per  cent  of  belief.  The  natural  inclination,  perhaps, 
would    be    to    regard    the    number    of    beliefs    as    an 


exaggeration;  but  against  this  tendency  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  human  mind  is  disposed  to 
acknowledge  its  own  weaknesses  and  shortcomings 
very  sparingly,  so  that  it  may  safely  be  said  that  we 
have  here  an  underestimate  rather  than  an  exaggera- 
tion of  belief  in  su]  erstitions.  The  result  is,  there- 
fore, somewhat  disturbing  as  indicating  that  prev- 
alence of  superstition  among  those  who  pass  as 
educated  people,  many  of  whom  are  at  the  present 
moment,  as  graduates  of  the  normal  schools,  teachers 
in  our  public  schools.  We  may  well  conceive  that  a 
large  number  of  people  assume  the  same  attitude  as 
that  attributed  to  the  brilliant  French  writer  who  used 
the  following  words,  "I  do  not  believe  in  ghosts, 
but   I   am  afraid  of  them." 

USES  OF  SUPERSTITIONS 
Superstition,  according  to  Professor  Dresslar,  has 
several  uses;  but  he  is  careful  to  warn  the  reader 
that  the  good  ends  which  they  accomplish  might  have 
been  attained  more  profitably  in  other  ways.  First 
of  all,  superstitions  have  been  used  to  frighten  people 
into  good  behavior,  this  being  especially  true  of 
children.  The  following  instances  may  be  noted  by 
way  of  illustration:  "If  a  child  whirls  a  chair  around 
on  one  leg  he  will  have  a  whipping  before  night;" 
"if  he  whistles  at  the  dinner  table  it  will  bring  him 
sorrow;"  "if  he  takes  some  food  while  he  has  still 
some  of  the  same  kind  on  his  plate  he  will  some  day 
lack  for  that  food."  This  method  of  teaching,  the 
author  admits,  is  in  the  long  run  harmful,  but  no  one 
who  knows  child  life  can  doubt  its  temporary 
effectiveness.  Secondly,  superstitions  have  been  used 
as  devices  to  train  people  into  habits  of  carefulness 
and  economy.  "If  you  spill  salt  it  will  bring  bad . 
luck,"  hence  be  careful  of  the  salt;  "if  you  break 
a  mirror  you  will  have  seven  years  of  bad  luck," 
therefore  handle  mirrors  carefully.  Numerous  other 
uses  are  noted  by  the  writer. 

LUCK 
Professor  Dresslar  devotes  an  interesting  chapter 
to  a  discussion  of  luck  as  contrasted  with  those 
things  which  come  about  through  "natural  causes." 
He  tells  the  following  story  in  this  connection:  "It 
chanced  one  Sunday  that  an  habitue  of  the  casino 
found  his  way  to  the  English  church  in  the  vicinity, 
and  upon  hearing  the  number  of  the  hymn  announced 
was  'impressed  with  the  feeling'  that  this  was  a  'lucky' 
number  to  bet  on,  and  immediately  left  the  church  for 
the  gambling  table.  He  staked  heavily  on  this  number 
and  won.  Following  up  the  suggestion,  he  went  to 
church  the  next  Sunday  and  remained  long  enousb 
to  get  the  number  of  the  hymn  announced,  staked  on 
it,  and  won  again.  Upon  confiding  the  secret  of  his 
success  to  his  friends,  they,  too,  went  to  church.  The 
contagion  spread  until  the  exodus  after  the  hymn 
became  so  marked  that  the  rector  was  painfully  con- 
scious of  it,  and  on  learning  of  the  cause,  took  occa- 
sion to  protect  himself  and  the  good  name  if  his 
chnrch    by    announcing    from    his    pulpit    that    in    the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


313 


future  no  hymn  whose  number  was  less  than  thirty- 
seven  would  be  selected.  This  number  was  desig- 
nated because  on  the  roulette  table  the  highest  number 
was  thirty-six.  The  strangest  and  most  interesting 
thing  about  this  is  the  fact  that  it  is  true." 
"CHARMS"  AND  "CURES" 

It  seems  strangs,  Professor  Dresslar  remarks,  that 
while  medical  science  has  progressed  at  a  truly  won- 
derful rate  during  the  past  half-century  "superstitious 
healing"  has  become  conspicuously  common.  Per- 
haps it  has  always  been  so;  still  there  seems  now  to 
be  a  growing  boldness  about  such  practices  hitherto 
unnoticeable.  The  remedies  suggested  by  supersti- 
tion have  not,  it  would  seem,  any  real  efficiency,  and 
answer  for  a  cure  only  through  suggestion.  In  occa- 
sional specimens  only  has  there  seemed  to  be  any  im- 
mediate or  sufficient  relation  of  the  remedy  to  the 
disease. 

ANIMALS    AND    SUPERSTITIOUS    LORE 

The  appreciation  on  the  part  of  man  of  special 
supernatural  powers  attributed  to  the  lower  creatures 
seems  most  marked  in  relation  to  animals  possessed 
of  the  largest  amount  of  mental  powers.  Especially 
is  this  true  of  animals  which  have  capabilities  far 
surpassing  those  of  a  similar  kind  in  man.  The 
marvelous  vision  of  the  cat,  the  wonderful  power  of 
smell  which  the  dog  possesses,  and  the  unerring 
judgment  of  the  bees  are  illustrative.  To  these  ani- 
mals man  has  ascribed  occult  and  supernatural  powers. 
The  pamphlet  contains  a  table  indicating  the  number 
of  superstitions  collected  which  relates  to  various 
creatures.  A  glance  at  this  table  shows  that  most  of 
the  superstitions  originated  in  the  country  where  a 
closer  contact  is  afforded  with  animals  than  in  the 
modern  cities.  Of  all  animals  mentioned  the  cat  ap- 
pears oftenest,  and  after  her,  dogs,  chickens,  birds, 
rabbits,  horses,  spiders,  etc.,  in  the  order  named. 
REMEMBERING    SUPERSTITIONS 

Professor  Dresslar  gives  a  number  of  reasons  ac- 
counting for  the  fact  that  superstitions  are  usually 
easily  remembered;  first  they  are  well  adjusted  to  the 
memory  span,  i.  e.,  they  are  expressed  in  well  bal- 
anced sentences  of  such  length  that  they  can  be 
spoken  in'  one  breath;  second,  they  contain  material 
which,  when  presented  to  the  mind,  is  such  as  to 
awaken  an  instinctive  interest,  thus  satisfying  a 
prime  condit.on  of  lemembering;  and  third,  they  are 
very  frequently  put   into   rhymed  verse. 

SUPERSTITION    AND   EDUCATION 

The  concluding  chapter  deals  directly  with  the 
bearing  of  supei  stition  on  education  and  educational 
methods;  and  in  this  chapter  the  author  draws  con- 
clusions which  will  unquestionably  be  of  interest  and 
value  to  teachers  who  must  of  necessity  face  the 
problems  presented  by  an  unexpected  prevalence  of 
superstitious  belief  on  the  part  of  pupils.  Among 
these  conclusions  the  following  may  be  indicated 
briefly.  First,  the  popular  notion  of  what  constitutes 
scientific  evidence  is  sadly  in  error — great  masses  of 
the  people  have  only  a  vague  conception  of  what  is 
meant  by  proof.  It  is  observed,  secondly,  that  we 
carry  about  with  us  mental  remnants,  the  result  of 
evolution  from  a  type  of  mentality  far  be.low  the 
present  standard,  these  remnants  being  not  only  use- 
less, but  sources  of  positive  weakness  and  danger. 
In  the  third  place,  we  must  not  expect  the  education 
of    a    few    generations    to    eradicate    the    habits    and 


W.&J.SLOANE&CO. 


Complete  stock 

CARPETS 
ORIENTAL  RUGS 
FURNITURE 
DRAPERIES,  Etc. 


Sutter    and    Van    Ness 


The  Best 

Champagne 

is  Veuve 
Clicquot 

Sec  and  Brut 


Cruse  and  Fils  Freres 

Red  and  White 

Wines 


Ami  Vignier 

Pacific  Coast  Agency 

Southeast  corner 
Battery  and  Broadway  Sts. 

San  Francisco,  Cal. 


314 


!  ERN  FIELD 


red  during  the  unnumbered  ages  of 
barbarism.  No  system  of  education  can  he  devised 
that  will  reconstruct  humanity  in  a  decade  or  even  a 
century.  Fourth,  we  must  endeavor  so  to  shape  our 
mental  life  that  our  feelings  and  emotions,  like  our 
powers  of  observation  and  reason,  will  prompt  us  to 
worthy  and   useful  behavior. 


THE  NATIONAL  FORESTS  AND 
LUMBER  SUPPLY. 

A  PUBLICATION    just    issued    by    the    Department 
of     Sericulture,    entitled    "National    Forests   and 
, be   Lumber   Supply."  defines  the  important  part 
which    the    National    Forests    are    destined    to    play    in 

.;'^&d1or^p^^eC^ 
Timber  from  the  National  Forests  is  now  purchased 
by"  the  thousand  board  feet  and  payment  is  made 
u,»on  the  actual  scale  of  the  logs  when  cut.  1  wo  dot 
Fare  and  a  halt  per  thousand  feet  is  comparatively 
ow  as  present  charges  go,  but  since  *'<£"£*£ 
from  -.UUO  to  2U.000  feet  per  acre,  the  government 
recSves    from    five   to   twenty   times  as  much    for   the 

^^o^n^^^^^r^ove^ 

r'api-d.f  Aflsr«tf  .Sv™sy2n  g^SS 

S Tfeir  &sh^idbt^rfeon=e?y 
used  The  Government  has  been  forced  into  the  lum- 
her  business  solely  in  order  that  a  supply  of  forest 
nroducS  may  be  guaranteed  to  future  generations 
P  Probablv  65  per  cent  of  the  total  stand  ormerchant- 
able  timber  within  the  forests  is  located  on  the  Pacific 
(■•oast  where  for  a  long  time  the  enormous  supply  of 
privately  owned  timber  will  satisfy  most  of  the  de- 
mand This  more  accessible  private  Umbel ■  ™«£™£* 
the  forests  as  the  meat  of  an  apple  s""°""?.s'f  Xfe 
Tt  has  been  entirely  eaten  away  in  many  places,  wnue 
in  mhers  it  is  locked  up  by  speculators.  The  thing .to 
remember  then,  is  that  this  immense  body  of  public 
fimbe™  is  there  as  a  great  reserve  against  he  time 
whVn  private  timblrlands  will  be  depleted,  and  for  use 

a^\eWrs"^ffEeactn5ofmNa?ionayi    Forests  'upon    prices, 
particularly  where  there  is  still  a  great  deal  of  avad- 

aMe  K"  actual  rvaluehbyPwi thdra'wlnf  'he"  S 
u^ly  of  lo^pr  I  Air  froir i  the  marked  But 
later  as  the  suppy  of  timber  dwindles  and  values  are 
forced  upward  ^/speculative  holdings  the :  effect  of 
th^  forests  will  be  to  check  the  advance  ot  prices. 
th  In  the  virgin  forest,  growth  is  just  about  balanced 
Kv  Herav  In  the  western  forests,  however,  natural 
deterioration  is  greatly  augmented  by .  forest  fires. 
The  fires  -ually  dgo  molt  harm  by. damaging  me™h«rt- 
able  timber,  but,  great  as  this  mwy  is,  vastly  more 
actual  loss  in  forest  wealth  results  from  the  yearly 
burning  over  of  the  grass  and  undergrowth  of  the 
forest  Ground  fires  do  not  consume  the  large  trees 
out  they  destroy  seedlings  outright  and  injure  growing 
trees  so  that  they  quickly  decay.  F.nally^he  fores, 
floor,  composed  of  a  mold  of  needles,  twigs, 
mosses,  is  burned  away.  . 

Far  beyond  the  present  influence  of  the  National 
Forests  upon  the  lumber  supply  will  be  their  import- 
ance  in  the  future.  The  United  States  is  now  facing 
a  shortage  in  the  stock  of  available  timber.  The  yield 
from  the  National  Forests  will  aid  g"*''*  t0,  br'dge 
over  the  period  in  which  mature  timber  will  be  lacking, 
a  period  which  will  last  from  the  time  the  old  trees 
are  gone  until  the  young  trees  are  large  enough  to 
take  their  places.  ... 

The  definite  result,  therefore,  of  the  sale  of  timber 
from  the  forests  will  be  to  sustain  the  lumber  business, 
to  maintain  a  steady  range  of  timber  values  and  so 
discourage  speculation,  and,  far  more  important  still, 
steadily  to  further  the  uninterrupted  development  of 
the  great  industries  dependent  upon  wood. 


TWO  GOOD  BOOKS. 

TWO  books  of  especial  merit  came  to  our  desk 
this  month  from  Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  .New 
York: 
"The  Romance  of  an  Old-fashioned  Gentleman,"  by 
1  Hopkinson  Smith,  is  one  of  the  cleanest,  sweetest 
told  and  most  healthful  books  that  we  have  read 
in  many  years,  and  its  wholesomeness  alone  should 
insure  hundreds  of  thousands  of  readers.  It  is  the 
simple  tale,  more  simply  told,  of  the  love  of  a 
real  gentleman,  and  one  lays  it  down  with  the 
same  emotion  that  we  inhale  the  fragrance  of  a 
cluster  of  wood  violets.  And  the  illustrations  in 
color  by  A.  I.  Keller  are  a  marvel  in  their  artistic 
beauty  and  exquisite  composition.  They  may  be 
likened  to  the  daintily  colored  Sevres  bowls  contain- 
ing the  violets — a  fitting  setting  of  gems  for  the 
heart  blossoms  they  infold. 

"The  Crested  Seas,"  by  J.  B.  Connolly,  is  fully 
as  good  but  in  another  vein.  No  man  who  has 
a  soul,  through  some  small  soft  unsoldered  hole 
in  whose  callosity  one  glint  of  feeling  may  pene- 
trate, can  read  "The  Joy  of  a  Christmas  Passage" 
and  "The  Magnetic  Hearth"  without  shutting  his 
teeth  hard  as  he  looks  up  in  a  sudden  eye  mist. 
It'  is  good  reading — the  kind  that  makes  a  man 
stoop  to  kiss  for  the  second  time,  on  the  night  of 
its  reading,  the  little  face  in  the  crib  or  trundle  bed, 
and  to  follow  with  a  dog's  eyes  the  coming  and 
going  of  his  wife.  Full  of  local  color  of  an  unique 
kind,  full  of  the  better  humanity  and  broader,  if  a 
bit  humbler  understanding  of  the  human  heart, 
tnis  little  volume  of  sea  fisher's  tales  is  worth  a 
hundred  times  its  nominal  cost.  Read  it  aloud  to 
your  family,  some  night,  and  you  will  see  its  value 
in    their    wet    eyes. 


\&M0'i 


fire-a 


d  by  the 


Experienced  gun  users  every-' 
where  say  it  is  the  best  rust  preventative 
on  earth — on  water,  too. 

Being  a  light  oil  it  enters  the  pores  1 

of  the  metal  and  forms  an  impercept-| 

le  covering  that  is  moisture-proof  | 

without  making  the  gun  sticky  i 

greasy  to  handle.  Best  foroilingthe  [ 

fine  mechanisms  of  the  finest  gun, 

because  it  does  not  dry  < 

harden,  turn  rancid,  collect  dust^ 

1-,  sample.   G.W.Cole/ 

.Free  Company, 

HO.New  St.. 

York.  N.  Y. 


V    '    »  : 


Manuel  Lafee 


Martin  Euphrat 


MARTIN  EUPHRAT  &  CO. 

YELLOWSTONE  CIOAR  STORE 

Direct  Importers  and  Sole  Agents  El  Mas 


Noble  Cigars. 
22  Montgomery  St. 


trade  a  specialty 

SAN  FRANCISCO 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


315 


N" 


net,   died   suddenly  at   Oak   Bluffs 


79  years. 


in  Somerset,  August  18, 
entered  the  works  of  the 
d.,    in   Taunton,   where   he 


The  deceased  was  boi 
1828.  At  the  age  of  19, 
Dean    Cotton   &    Machine 

learned  the  machinist's  trade,  remaining  three  years. 
His  first  work  as  a  master  mechanic  was  with  George 
P.  Foster  &  Co.,  Taunton,  making  rifles  by  hand. 
Two  years  afterward  he  entered  the  shops  of  the 
Colt  Bristol  Co..  in  Hartford,  Ct.,  where  he  acquired 
a  general  knowledge  of  the  gun  business.  He  de- 
clined an  offer  to  join  in  the  establishment  of  a  branch 
of  the  Colt's  business  in  London,  Eng.,  and  went  to 
Providence,  where  he  was  employed  by  T.  R.  Brown. 
During  his  service  with  Mr.  Brown,  the  latter  in- 
vited him  to  unite  with  him  in  an  enterprise  which 
would  probably  have  been  known  later  as  Brown  & 
Davis  instead  of  Brown  &  Sharpe. 

On  Tuly  1,  1853,  Mr.  Davis  went  to  Assonet  and 
formed  a  oartnership  with  David  C.  Thresher,  of  that 
Village,  under  the  firm  name  of  N.  R.  Davis  &  Co., 
beginning  the  manufacture  of  muzzle-loading  rifles  at 
what  is  called  "The  Forge."  There,  with  an  engine- 
lathe,  run  by  water-poyer,  for  machinery,  and  five 
men,  the  firm  manufactured  about  150  rifles,  which 
were  sold  in  small  lots  to  hardware  dealers  in  New 
York.  In  the  following  year,  the  company  moved  to 
the  old  Thresher  building  near  the  foot  of  Water 
street,  where,  in  1858,  they  introduced  the  manu- 
facture of  the  muzzle-loading  shot  gun.  The  business 
slowly  developed  until  the  outbreak  of  the  Civil  war, 
in  1861,  closed  the  shop  for  awhile.  Later  that  year, 
under  sub-contract  with  the  federal  government,  N.  R. 
Davis  &  Co.  manufactured  parts  of  the  Springfield 
rifled  muskets,  the  arm  generally  used  throughout  the 

In  1862,  on  the  retirement  of  Mr.  Thresher  from 
the  firm.  Dr.  Thomas  G.  Nichols  became  Mr.  Davis' 
partner,  sharing  equal  interests  with  him.  The  plant 
was  enlarged  as  the  war  progressed,  employing  100 
men  and  running  day  and  night. 

On  May  19,  1S64,  the  gun-shop  was  destroyed  by 
fire,  probably  due  to  an  incendiary.  The  loss  was 
total,  there  being  no  insurance  on  the  plant.  But 
the  firm  had  established  valuable  credit,  and  was 
able  to  rally  and  re-establish  itself.  Operations  were 
resumed  in  the  old  Nichols  &  Sampson  store,  where, 
after  a  short  time,  musket  parts  were  turned  out  as 
before.  By  the  end  of  the  war  the  shop  had  finished, 
among  manv  other  parts,  600.000  rear  leaf  sights. 

The  rim-fire  breech-loading  double  guns  were  first 
made  in  1866.  Later  came  the  center-fire  top-action 
gun,  which,  improved  from  time  to  time,  is  still  the 
gun  usually  found  on  the  market.  In  the  winter  of 
1873-4,  the  business  of  N.  R.  Davis  &  Co.  was 
moved  to  the  building  formerly  occupied  by  the 
sonet  Machine  Co.  This  building  was  much 
larged,  some  years  ago,  and  refitted  to  meet  requ 
ments.  Dr.  Nicholas  died  in  1883,  and  in  the  foil 
ing  February,  Mr.  Davis  admitted  to  partnership 
sons,  W.  A.  and  N.  W.  Davis,  who  have  since 
mained  with  him,  the  firm  name  being  N.  R.  Davi: 


"It  Makes  the 

Best  Lemonade 

On  Earth!" 

Jackson's 
Napa  Soda 


EMIL  W.  HAGBOM 
Formerly  with  James 
W.  Bell  Son  &  Co. 
New  York 


EDWARD  MILLS 
Late  of 

Bullock  &  Jones 
San  Francisco 


MILLS  &  HAGBOM 


SMART 

CLOTHES 
MAKERS 


CORNER  FRANKLIN  AND 

O'FARRELL  STS. 

SAN  FRANCISCO,    CAL. 


Writing   Adverti: 


Mention  -WESTERN  FIELD." 


316 


WESTERN  FIELD 


GOOD  WORK 

THE  State  of  California  is  becoming  so  well  known 
all  over  the  world  through  the  continued  and 
persistent  efforts  of  The  California  Promotion 
Committee  that  the  demand  for  descriptive  literature 
of  the  various  localities  and  industries  of  the  State  has 
assumed  unprecedented  proportions.  Through  its 
Eastern  Bureau  in  New  York,  and  its  various  agencies 
over  the  world  the  Committee  is  distributing  an 
enormous  amount  of  California  literature,  and  the  de- 
mand has  been  so  great  that  the  supply  at  command 
of  the  Committee  is  constantly  depleted.  The  work 
of  the  Committee  along  this  line  has  borne  good  fruit, 
and  no  county  can  afford  to  let  its  supplv  of  litera- 
ture fall  short  of  the  demand.  The  Committee  does 
its  work  of  distribution  without  charge  to  the  local 
organizations  or  to  the  localities  furnishing  the  litera- 
ture, and  the  best  feature  of  its  work  is  the  fact  that 
no  literature  is  sent  out  in  a  haphazard  manner. 
Every  piece  that  is  distributed  is  sent  in  response  to 
an  inquiry  from  some  person  who  is  interested  in  the 
State,  consequently  no  literature  sent  to  The  Cali- 
fornia  Promotion    Committee   is  thrown   away. 

The  Committee  desires  that  every  locality  in  Cali- 
fornia be  represented  on  its  literature  counters  at 
headquarters  in  San  Francisco  and  at  its  Eastern 
Bureau,  and  there  is  no  question  that  there  can  be  no 
better  method  of  distributing  the  literature  of  the 
locality.  The  system  of  the  Committee  is  so  perfect 
in  this  respect  that  it  keeps  close  account  of  every 
piece  of  literature  received  and  distributed,  and  when 
it  notices  that  any  locality  is  falling  behind  it  sends 
a  letter  asking  for  more.  These  requests  should  be 
promptly  complied  with,  and  it  is  hoped  that  the  com- 
mercial organizations  of  the  county  will  see  to  it  that 
there  be  no  call  for  literature  from  this  county  that 
can  not  be  filled. 


T 


SOME  WIXCHESTER  WINS 

HE  shooters  of  Winchester  products  carried  off 
the  premier  honors  at  the  Interstate  Associa- 
tion's Third  Annual  Pacific  Coast  Handicap  Tour- 
ment   held   at    Spokane,    Washington,    September    10, 

and    12,  the   Seattle,   Washington,   tournament   held 


in  that  city  on  September  .15th,  and  the  Portland  tour- 
nament held  at  the  grounds  of  the  St.  Tohn  Gun 
Club,  Portland.  Oregon,  September  16  and  IT.  and  the 
tournament  of  the  Channel  Citv  Gun  Club  held  at 
Santa  Barbara,  Cal.,  September  23d  and  24th.  The 
summary  of  the  above  tournaments  follow: 

Interstate  Tournament.  —  Eighty-five  contestants, 
forty-seven  of  whom  used  Winchester  "Leader"  shot 
gun  shells  exclusively,  and  eight  who  used  the 
"Leader"  shells  in  connection  with  others  of  differ- 
ent makes.  Forty-one  of  the  eighty-five  shooters  shot 
the  Winchester  "pump"  guns  exclusivelv.  The  Pre- 
liminary Handicap  was  won  by  Frank  Bartos  with  a 
Winchester  "pump"  gun  on  the  score  of  88  out  of  100, 
high  professional  score  in  this  event  being  made  -by 
Fred  Gilbert  from  21  yards  rise,  91  out  of  100.  Mr. 
Gilbert  always  uses  the  "Leader"  shells  in  all  his  shoot- 
ing. High  expert  average  for  the  first  dav:  Fred 
Gilbert.  170  out  of  180,  first;  Harry  Ellis,  167  out  of 
180.  second,  and  D.  W.  King,  Jr.,  164  out  of  180. 
third.  All  the  above  gentlemen  used  the  "Leader" 
shells,  and  in  connection  Mr.  Ellis  shot  a  Winchester 
"pump"  gun.  The  high  amateur  average  for  this  day 
was  made  by  C.  M.  Powers  shooting  the  "Leader" 
shells,  score  174  out  of  180.  High  expert  average  for 
the  second  day:  Tie  between  T.  T.  Skelly  and  Harry 
Ellis.  93  out  of  100,  both  using  the  "Leader"  shells, 
and  Mr.  Ellis  a  Winchester  shotgun.  High  amateur 
average  for  this  day  made  by  E.  F.  Contarr  with  a 
Winchester  "pump"  gun  and  the  "Leader"  shells. 
Score,  94  out  of  100.  High  expert  average  for  the 
third  day  was  made  bv  Fred  Gilbert  with  "Leader" 
shells,  100  straight.  Pacific  Coast  Handicap  won  by 
Max  Ilensler  with  a  Winchester  "pump"  gun:  score 
93  out  of  100.  In  this  event  Mr.  Hensler  also  used 
Winchester  "Leader"  shells.  Longest  straight  run  of 
the  tournament  made  by  Fred  Gilbert,  using  "Leaders," 
123  consecutive  breaks,  eleven  of  which  were  made 
from  the  21  yard  mark.  The  first,  second  and  third 
high  professional  averages  of  the  entire  tournament 
were  made  by  shooters  using  Winchester  goods.  Fred 
Gilbert,  first,  360  out  of  3S0;  Harrv  Ellis,  second.  347 
out  of  380,  and  Chris.  Gottlieb,  third,  342  out  of  380. 
Mr.  Ellis  and  Mr.  Gottlieb  used  Winchester  guns  and 
"Leader"  shells,  and  Mr.  Gilbert  a  double  gun  and 
"Leaders." 


5  cents  DECEMBER,    1907         $1.50  the  year 


Greater  San  Francisco 


Western  Agencies  &  Manufacturing  Co. 


A.  J.  BURTON,  MGR. 

Manufacturers  oj 

LEATHER     AND     CANVAS     SPORTING     GOODS, 

LEGGINS. 

BELTS.    TRAVELERS'    SAMPLE 

ROLLS. 

CASES,    AUTOMOBILE    TIRE 

COVERS,    ETC. 

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WESTERN  FIELD 

PUBLISHED  AT  GREATER  SAN  FRANCISCO.  CALIFORNIA 

Vol.  11                                        DECEMBER,    1907 

No.    5 

CONTENTS  OF  THIS    NUMBER 

Frontispiece,  in  Colors,  from  Paiqting  by  R.  C.  Thompson 

Christmas  in  California  (Verse) Harry  T.  Fee 

Fall  Fishing  in  the  San  Oal.ri.-I F.  W.  Rcid 

Mountain   Rest   (Verse) Maurice  Smiley 

A  Day  on  the  Suisun "Montezuma" 

Morning  (Verse) F.  M,  Kellv 

English  Sport-Part  V— Fos  Hunting  in  the  Lake  District  A'.  Clapham 

Arch  Rock  (Verse) 1/.  faultnc  Scott 

The  Sun  Basket Fidela  Gould  Woodcock 

Winter  in  Victoria  /  {Donald  A.  Frazer 

To  the  Old  Vear  ■  Verse -  Grace  G.  Bost-wick 

Across  the  Wintry  Fields  \  (Grace  G.  Crowell 

The  Giant  'Gators  of  the  Guayas -)  u  drew  Com  stock  McKenzie 

A  Christmas  Dinner  in  Che  Mi's Edward  C.  Grossman 

Tales  of  the  Widgeon  Club Lindsay  Bancroft 

Mt.  Tamalpais  at  Sunset  (Verse) Genevieve  Berlolacci 

South  Coast  Shooting— Part  XI.— Some  Shore  Birds  I   Have  Met "Stillhunter" 

The  Mocking  Bird S.  A.   White 

Wintering  on  the  Noatak T.  Raymond  Stall! 

Season's  South  Coast  Yachting  Races  .  Herbert  E.  Carse 


ckton  Dog  Show 


1 7-DEPARTMENTS—  1 7 


LOOK!     LOOK!     LOOK! 


...WON  ... 

First 

Second 

Third 

Fifth 

Sixth 

Seventh 

at  the  first  tournament  of  the 

Pacific  Coast  Trap  Shooters'   League 

Held  at  Ingleside,  San  Francisco 

February  22,  23,  24,  1906 

with 

Selby  Shells 

Manufactured  by  the  Selby  Smelting  and  Lead  Co. 


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ONLY   THIRTY    MINUTES   FROM    LOS  ANGELES 


Blessed  by  Nature,  but  Beautified  by  Man. 

The  good  ship  Cabrillo  and  Auditorium  newly  opened  under 
cur   own    management.      Meals   a    la    carte    at    all  hours. 


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first -Class    accommodations    at    Hotel   Windward, 
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PUBLISHED    AT    GREATER    SAN    FRANCISCO 


DECEMBER,     1907 


No.   5 


V^ 


r 


CHRISTMAS  IN   CALIFORNIA 


WITH   spruce  and  gum  and  chaparral, 
With   fir  and   lordly   pine, 
Where   dim   woods  weave  their   mystic  spell- 
In     valleys     all     ashine; 
With    piping   quail    in   circling   droves, 

The   air   afill   with  cheer; 
With   sun-kissed   miles   of   orange   groves — 
Oh!  this  is  Christmas  here. 


With    snow-gemmed    peaks    that    shine 

With  all  the  vales  abloom; 
Like  some  lone  and  effulgent  star 

That  shames  the  winter's  gloom, 
This  teeming  land — this  golden  land — 

Unfolds    the    season's    cheer, 
With    merry   heart   and   willing   hand — 

For  this  is  Christmas  here. 

With  ne'er  a  sign  of  winter's  gloom 

By  winter  memories  stirred; 
With   roses   everywhere   abloom; 

With  chirp  and   song  of  bird. 
For  though  the  summer  long  has  fled. 

There  is  no  winter  near; 
With  blue  sky  gleaming  overhead — 

And    this    is    Christmas    here. 

Broad  stretches  of  the  fragrant  earth. 

Fairest  that   man   may   know; 
Great   mountains   grim,    of    fabled   worl 

With  holly  buds  aglow; 
Wnile  every  joy  of  Christmas  time 

That   one  mayhap  might  hear, 
E'er  told  in  prose  or  sung' in  rhyme — ■ 

Breathes:    "this  is  Christmas  here." 


afar 


B>    l'    W.  Hun 


HE  season  for  trout-fishing  in 
California,  as  by  law  estab- 
lished, docs  not  end  until  No- 
vember. This  must  strike  out- 
siders as  a  rather  prolonged 
campaign.  Fancy  whipping  the 
streams  in  the  land  of  Burns  in 
the  month  when, 

"Clustering    Boreas    fell    and    dour, 
Sharp-shivers     through     the     leafless 
bower." 

i  loot,  mon  ! 

(  Ither  climes,  other  customs.  In  Southern 
California,  the  bowers  are  leafy  all  the  year 
round,  and  winter  is  but  a  name,  a  term  of 
the  calendar.  Scotland  lies  in  the  cold  north: 
Los  Angeles  on  the  same  parallel  of  latitude 
as  Cairo.  We  are  at  the  limit,  the  farthest 
south  of  trout-fishing  in  the  United  States. 
Had  we  no  lofty  mountains  rising  above  our 
plains,  we  should  have  no  streams,  fit  for  trout 
to  live  in. 

The  chief  resort  of  anglers  in  the  southern 
half  of  the  state  is  the  San  Gabriel  river.  It 
is  eminently  a  mountain  stream.  Rising  be- 
hind that  barricade  of  rocky  heights,  of  which 
,\b  unit  Wilson  is  a  conspicuous  buttress  and 
"Old  Baldy",  or  Mt.  San  Antonio,  the  snow- 
crowned  king,  its  two  branches  unite  at  a 
spot  called  the  junction,  twelve  miles  from 
Azusa  on  the  Santa  Fe.  But  it  does  not  now 
flow  through  the  land  of  oranges  a  living  and 
gracious  presence,  glassing  the  trees  in  quiet 
pools.  Business  enterprise  has  spirited  it 
away  from  its  rocky  defile,  below  the  junction, 
and  serves  its  waters  out  to  the  irrigated 
farms  through  reservoirs  and  iron  conduits. 
So  San  Gabriel  lives  in  the  mountains  most  of 
the  time.  But  when,  waxing  high  with  melting 
snow  and  copious  rain,  he  blows  his  trump, 
they  must  let  him  forth  to  rush  down  the  rocky 
defile  towards  the  sea. 

Thus  it  often  happens  that  a  river,  unbridged 
and  unfordable, "cuts  off  the  angler  from  his 
sport  in  the  opening  month.  From  his  office 
window  in  the  Angel  City  he  can  see  the  hills 


of  his  heart's  desire.  Fain  would  he  fly  there, 
an  early  bird  with  an  early  worm — fit  lure  for 
the  unschooled  trout  in  May — but  floods  forbid. 
Our  climate,  however,  is  thoroughly  depend- 
able. Soon  the  rains  diminish  to  "a  trace"  in 
the  weather  observer's  tin  pot.  The  watery 
bars  of  the  canons  are  lowered ;  burros  are 
packed  for  the  trail;  the  great  holiday  hegira 
of  the  summer  sets  out.  And  if-  our  angler  is 
obliged  to  content  himself  with  the  latter  end 
of  the  season,  a  late  guest  at  the  feast,  here 
are  compensations  in  store  for  him.  He  leaves 
the  city  at  its  dustiest  and  driest.  The  clear 
waters  challenge  him  to  show  his  best  skill 
with  the  fly. 

And  the  San  Gabriel  is  the  "beau  ideal"  of  a 
fly-fisher's  stream.  In  Northern  California,  as 
far  as  my  experience  goes,  all  that  gives  grace 
and  finish  to  the  scenery,  the  beautiful  trees 
that  hide  the  rough  edges  of  the  hills,  grow 
so  thickly  as  to  hamper  the  play  of  rod  and 
line.  On  the  McCloud  long  stretches  of  allur- 
ing water  are  protected  from  the  flying  hook 
by  drooping  branches.  One  has  to  scale 'cliffs, 
to  walk  woodland  trails  to  where  openings 
have  been  cut  in  the  brushwood.  But  the 
southern  stream  rivals  in  ease  of  angling  cir- 
cumstances those  Highland  waters  where  the 
heather  offers  the  only  impediment  to  the 
foot,  and  the  slender  birch  tree  lifts  its  arms 
to  allow  free  passage  to  the  line.  The  hills 
are  not  thickly  forested :  it  is  a  rocky  country 
with  tall  timber  bristling  against  the  sky-line 
and  dense  deer-concealing  chaparral  covering 
the  declivities.  In  the  bed  of  the  narrow 
canons  grow  sycamores,  maples,  and  live  oaks. 
But  the  banks  of  the  stream  are  jealously  re- 
served to  themselves  by  the  alders. 

Now  this  most  accommodating  tree  not  only 
points  its  branches  upwards,  but  early  in  life 
loses  its  lower  limbs.  Growing  in  close  ranks 
by  the  water,  the  alders  form  an  arcade  of 
smooth  grey  trunks  and  meeting  branches, 
under  which  there  is  ample  space  for  the  rod 
to  play.  And  where  the  alders  find  no  soil 
there    are    wide    stretches    of    shingle,    granite 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


321 


On   the   San   Gabriel— The   First   Snowfall 


bowlders  of  all  shapes  and  sizes,  white  and 
gray,  over  and  among  which  the  stream  chafes 
and  struggles,  naked  to  sun  and  sky.  Free 
play  to  his  arm,  few  branches  to  snare  his 
tackle,  what  wider  scope  does  the  angler 
need? 

Visit  the  river  about  the  autumnal  equinox, 
and  you  find  it  sunk  considerably  below  its  pale 
glaring  beaches.  Several  feet  above  its  dry- 
weather  level,  stacks  of  driftwood  are  caught 
in  the  willow  bushes,  rude  piles  fit  for  the, 
nesting  of  Sinbad's  gigantic  roc.  The  water  is 
unspeakably  limpid.  Not  "Abana  and  Phar- 
phar,  lucid  streams,"  were  more  transparent. 
Under  the  trees  the  pools  are  stained  a  clear 
emerald,  slashed  with  amber  shadows.  Out 
from  the  ankle-deep  sandy  fording-places  the 
trout  flee  at  your  approach,  like  shadows  be- 
fore the  sunrise. 

Nature's  usual  handicap  confronts  the  fall 
fisher.  Things  are  smooth  on  one  side,  hard 
on  the  other.  You  can  travel  anywhere,  and 
without  difficulty;  but  the  clearness  of  the 
stream  calls  for  a  long  line  and  gossamer 
tackle.  Fish  "far  and  fine"  is  the  word.  But 
the  flies  commonly  sold  in  the  shops  for  use 
on   the    Pacific    Coast    are    tied    on    gut    of    a 


thickness  that  is  reserved  elsewhere  for  lake 
fishing.  Now  mountains  are  plenty,  but  lakes 
rare  in  California.  Along  the  San  Gabriel  we 
have  but  one;  a  delightful  little  tarn,  sunk  in 
a  dimple  of  the  mountains  and  hedged  round 
with  feathery  spruces.  "Crystal  Lake"  they 
call  it ;  and  there  you  can  lazy  in  a  boat,  and 
in  spite  of  its  name  troll  with  stout  tackle  and 
revolving  spoon.  In  the  more  crystalline  river 
waters,  small  hackle  flies,  mounted  on  drawn 
gut,  are  the  most  killing.  Drawn  gut  is  prac- 
tically invisible  in  water,  at  any  rate  to  the 
human  eye,  and  therefore  best  suited  for 
streams  that  are  low  and  clear. 

The  baits  most  easily  procurable  in  the  fall 
are  grasshoppers  and  frogs.  Hunting  the  lively 
"hopper"  is  an  art  ancillary  to  angling,  and 
one  that  all  who  aim  to  catch  big  trout  should 
acquire.  It  also  affords  some  exercise  and 
amusement  on  off-days.  A  fat  insect,  properly 
hooked,  is  a  tempting  lure  to  the  trout  in  the 
lean  months,  when  the  streams  are  filtered 
almost  clear  of  drowning  ephemerids.  Frog's 
leg,  tod,  is  a  delicacy  in  high  esteem  with  the 
epicures  of  the  pool.  In  the  autumn,  however, 
it  is  no  easy  matter,  even  with  these  dainties, 
to  land  a  string  of  seven  trout  weighing  ten 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Crystal    Like 


pounds  and  a  half,  as  the  lucky  angler  may 
hope  to  do  in  June. 

For  the  late  comer  is  like  a  guest  who  sits 
down  to  table  at  the  eleventh  hour.  Round 
about  the  resorts  to  which  city  folk  come  to 
pass  their  week  ends,  the  rods,  since  July 
opened,  have  been  rising  and  falling  regularly, 
like  flails  in  the  hands  of  the  harvester  of  the 
olden  time.  Xear  Rincon  and  Fallows,  where 
several  hundred  visitors  congregate  during  the 
lively  season,  the  river  is  "fished  out"'  early. 
At  any  rate  that  is  the  self-sparing  verdict  of 
the  unsuccessful  angler;  but  the  dictum  need 
not  preclude  the  expert  from  trying  his  luck 
there.  But  even  he  is  not  likely  to  bag  the 
legal  limit,  while  the  novice's  daily  report  in- 
variably runs :  "Nothing  doing." 

Xo  :  for  "results",  as  the  advertising  agencies 
have  it,  the  best  plan  after  the  end  of  August 
is  to  push  on  towards  the  sources  of  either 
fork  of  the  river. 

Its  waters  may  be  roughly  divided  into  three 
zones.  The  lowest  and  most  thoroughly  fished 
extends  upwards  for,  say,  ten  miles  from  the 
junction.  It  includes  the  permanent  camps, 
and  for  a  space  the  wagon  road,  as  it  is  called, 
but  it  is  a  mere  track.    Here  you  see  the  works 


of  the  paint-pot  men, — advertisements  defac- 
ing the  rocks  by  the  wayside,  bowlders  smeared 
with  such  trivialities  as  "Hello,  Bill !".  "Keep 
moving', — anything  to  catch  the  eye,  to  raise 
a  smile  or  perhaps  a  snort  of  contempt.  Xext 
comes  the  region  of  the  holiday  campers,  of 
those  nomads  who  make  for  themselves  lairs 
in  the  hills,  constructing  with  rude  art  tables 
of  shakes  and  wire,  benches  of  alder  logs,  mat- 
tresses of  sacking  stuffed  with  leaves,  and 
hanging  the  uncomplaining  trees  with  such 
strange  fruit  as  soap-boxes,  to  serve  as  larders. 
From  these  family  camps  the  exodus  home- 
wards and  schoolwards  is  generally  mid-Sep- 
tember. They  are  abandoned,  and  discarded 
frying-pans  and  old  magazines  are  left  behind 
for  the  curious  scrutiny  of  the  squirrels  and 
crows. 

Of  these  ready-made  resting  places,  they 
make  inns  for  the  night  who  climb  the  rugged 
granite  steps  of  the  third  degree,  "hiking"  ever 
onward  towards  the  ultimate  sources  of  the 
river.  Here  is  the  Ultima  Thule  of  the  ad- 
venturous camper,  walled  in  by  the  divide  and 
the  higher  mountains.  From  a  distant  survey, 
it  is  a  country'  of  white  granite  stencilled  with 
black  markings,  which  are  trees. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MACAZIXE 


323 


In  the  head  waters,  notably  in  Iron  Fork, 
there  are  pools  deep  enough  for  the  play  of 
spoon-baits.  Thereabouts  is  the  best  fishing 
in  the  fall, — Fish,  Iron,  or  Prairie  Fork.  The 
pilgrimage  is  long;  arduous  and  stony  the 
way ;  the  crowd  have  tailed  off  and  pitched 
their  tents  below.  Therefore  these  higher 
streams  are  in  no  wise  fished  out.  Indeed  few 
remain  to  fish  them  after  August,  and  a  gre- 
garious man  might  find  the  lonesomeness  of 
these  retreats  oppressive.  Deer-hunters  re- 
main in  camp  till  October  and  they  will  fish 
for  the  pot.  There  are,  besides  a  few  more  or 
less  permanent  residents,  the  miners  and 
prospectors  who  occupy  the^ough  cabins  built 
against  the  hillsides.  But  there  is  elbow  room 
enough  up  here  to  satisfy  the  most  exacting. 

For  your  inveterate  angler  is  by  no  means 
gregarious.  He  has  no  use  for  jolly  crowds 
by  the  riverside ;  he  prefers  the  solitary  pool. 
Few,  however,  carjry  their  jealousy  of  angling 
rivals  to  such  a  pitch  as  did  a  certain  Perth- 
shireman.  He  could  not  abide  the  sight  of 
another  rod  where  he  was  fishing,  even  though 
it  nodded  to  him  across  the  interval  of  half  a 
mile  of  water.  It  was  a  signal  to  him  to  put 
up  his  tackle  and  stalk  over  the  brae  to  the 
next  loch.  In  the  hills  where  he  lived,  there 
was  a  chain  of  small  lakes ;  and  his  neighbors 
conspired  against  his  captious  exclusiveness. 
One  Saturday  when  Mac,  disturbed  at  his 
first  selected  spot,  had  begun  to  fish  a  second 
loch,  a  "brither  Scot"  bobbed  up  from  the 
heather  to  share  or  dispute  the  solitude  with 
him.  Away  he  fled  in  dudgeon,  only  to  meet 
the  same  disconcerting  fate  at  the  next  loch. 
And  so  he  wasted  his  half-holiday,  dodging 
through  the  heather,  like  a  hunted  stag,  and 
never  finding  a  place  where  he  could  fish  all 
by  himself. 

That  is  an  example  of  the  ultra-selfish  in 
angling,  a  variety  of  that  widely  distributed 
genus,  the  Trout-hog.  But  the  pursuit  of  the 
contemplative  man's  recreation  does  not  nor- 
mally tend  towards  misanthropy.  It  is,  how- 
ever, a  safe  cure  for  lonesomeness;  and  one 
remarks  that  the  best  of  companions  can,  when 
the  fish  are  biting,  put  up  with  a  spacious 
solitude.  And  if  the  fish  are  shy,  your  versatile 
angler  of  the  modern  type  is  quite  content  to 
be  left  alone  with  nature.  He  is,  or  should  be, 
no  mere  killer  of  fish,  but  a  man  with  senses 
alert  and  apprehensive  of  Nature's  %ign- 
language. 

The  outward  indications  of  the   fall  season 


in  our  mountains  are  few,  but  significant.  The 
dense  chaparral  which  covers  the  lower  slopes 
as  with  a  rough  coat  of  frieze  has  changed  the 
facings  of  its  summer  uniform.  The  somber 
green  is  laced  and  streaked  with  rusty  red. 
with  patches  of  dun  color.  The  tall  shafts  of 
the  Yucca,  which  in  July  were  hung  around 
with  waxen  bells,  are  now  withered  and  ready 
to  fall.  The  alders  are  stripped  to  bare  poles, 
all  but  their  green-tufted  tops ;  blotches  of 
yellow  mar  the  green  of  sycamore  and  maple. 
But  in  the  south  leaf  decay  is  slow  and  pro- 
longed ;  and  so  many  trees  are  evergreens  that 
the  pageant  of  autumn  seems  dim  and  dull, 
when  one  remembers  the  glories  of  that  season 
farther  north,  where  the  forests  have  fixed 
in  their  foliage  the  fleeting  splendors  of  the 
sunset.  The  dusty  ground  is  bright  in  spots 
with  flowers, — a  scarlet  fuchsia,  yellow  and 
purple  Michaelmas  daisies.  But  the  only 
effective  leaf  pigment  is  that  of  the  clinging 
poison-oak,  which  flares  a  claret-red  over  the 
cold  gray  faces  of  the  cliffs. 

These  rocky  wilds  are  but  thinly  peopled 
with  bird  and  beast.  Rarely  does  the  angler 
check  his  footsteps  to  observe  the  stag  drink- 
ing unafraid  from  the  stream.  There  are 
signs  that  the  keen  eye  notes, — tracks  of  deer ; 
the  broad  "spoor"  of  the  mountain  lion  pricked 
out  on  the  sand.  But  how  rarely  are  the  ani- 
mals seen !  Occasionally  a  lynx  or  a  wildcat 
may  drop  lightly  onto  a  log.  stare  for  a  sec- 
ond at  the  intruder,  and  be  gone.  .Nor  is  the 
wanderer  beguiled  by  the  cheerful  company 
and  voices  of  many  birds.  The  squawk  of  the 
blue  jay  one  hears,  the  harsh  scream  of  the 
woodpecker;  the  shy  mountain  wren  slips  out 
of  her  hiding  place  and  in  again,  like  a  brownie 
of  the  wilds.  Kingfishers  do  not  seem  to  fre- 
quent the  San  Gabriel.  One  bird  alone  is  as 
constant  to  the  stream  as  the  devoted  angler, 
and  that  is  the  dipper.  Him  you  will  see  in 
his  weeds  of  sober  black,  flitting  from  rock  to 
rock  ahead  of  you,  bowing  and  peering  into 
the  deep.  The  spirit  of  the  "miner,  forty- 
niner",  who  "lost  his  Clementine"  in  such  a 
mountain  canon,  perhaps  inhabits  this  soli- 
tary brrd,  who  silently  quests  the  pools  as  if 
seeking  for  a  lost  mate. 

If  birds  are  scarce,  insects  are  plentiful 
enough :  gaudy  dragon-flies,  painted  with  red 
or  blue  enamel,  chirping  crickets,  grasshoppers 
skirling  like  pipers,  and  small  but  troublesome 
gnats.  If  a  comprehensive  anathema  could 
away  with  the  germs  Culex  in  all  its  varieties, 


324 


WESTERN  FIELD 


let  it  be  prpnounced.  The  black  atomies  circle 
round  one's  head,  piping  and  trumpeting;  they 
wind  closer  and  closer  till  they  dart  between 
the  eyelids.  What  they  want  there,  I  do  not 
know,  unless  it  is  to  sip  tears.  But  their 
swarms  are  a  plague  in  the  fall,  not  to  be 
stayed  except  by  tobacco  smoke.  Now  a  man 
cannot  smoke  like  a  chimney,  and  the  gnats 
simply  tag  after  him  until  his  cigar-butt  drops. 
The  tolerable  fly,  the  foolish  insect  that  attends 
to  its  ephemeral  business  of  falling  into  the 
water  and  the  mouth  of  a  hungry  fish,  is  not 
common.  Uncultivated  hills  are  not  prolific  in 
them.  Their  broods  teem  in  rich  arable  land ; 
they  spawn  in  water  meadows  fertilized  with 
animal  droppings.  But  store  of  hard,  shining 
beetles,  "gleaming  in  purple  and  gold",  live  in 
the  punky,  rotten  wood  that  litters  the  river 
banks.  That,  perhaps,  is  the  reason  why 
artificial  flies,  tied  with  tinsel  or  peacock's 
'herl,'  are  so  deadly  in  these  mountain  streams. 
They  are  meant  to  imitate  the  metallic  glitter 
of  beetles. 


The  mountain  air  is  genially  cool ;  neither 
touched  with  frost,  nor  oppressed  with  heat. 
In  the  canons  it  is  often  quite  still ;  at  sunset 
always  so.  Then  falls  an  eventide,  serene  and 
beautiful,  when  the  tracery  of  the  unshaken 
trees  stands  outlined  firm  against  a  primrose 
sky.  Even  in  late  September  the  nights  are 
surprisingly  warm;  and  if  benighted  one  can 
sleep  comfortably  alongside  a  fire  without 
needing  a  blanket.  It  is  an  autumn  of  the 
semi-tropics,   tranquil   and   mild. 

But  as  you  linger  amid  the  hills,  lapped  in 
this  sweet  serenity,  there  may  come  a  sudden 
change.  A  storm  of  wind  swoops  down  from 
the  high  peaks  by  night.  You  wake  to  hear 
the  rain  drumming  on  your  canvas  roof,  the 
crackle  of  falling  branches,  the  crash  of  a 
smitten  tree.  Next  morning  the  sunbeams 
play  on  an  amber-colored  stream  that  carries 
down  rafts  of  leaves  and  broken  twigs ;  and 
these'  form  weirs  at  the  lip  of  every  cascade. 
The  air  is  laden  with  the  fragrance  of  the 
grateful  earth. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


325 


And  through  the  water,  as  the  amher  clouds 
with  silt,  there  speeds  a  swift  message  to  the 
trout.  It  means  an  increased  supply  of  food, 
drowning  flies  and  other  insects, — a  change 
from  the  meager  diet  of  the  dry  season.  The 
fish  rise  to  its  summons ;  and  now,  if  ever  in 
the  fa^ll,  comes  your  chance  under  cover  of  the 
turbid  waters  to  basket  the  legal  limit. 

But  out  of  touch  as  you  needs  must  be 
with  weather  forecasts,  you  never  can  tell  but 
the  message  may  have  a  special  meaning  for 
yourself.  The  rainy  season  may  be  commenc- 
ing early.  Hidden  away  in  a  canon,  how  can 
the  angler  guess  what  depressions  are  form- 
ing out  on  the  Pacific  ocean? 

He  may  be  surprised  by  a  fall  of  snow,  and 
see  the  high  mountains  all  robed  in  gleaming 
white.  A  '  beautiful  spectacle,  this,  as  viewed 
from  an  orange-scented  garden  in  the  plains. 
But  up  in  the  hills  it  is  a  token  to  the  camper 


to  fold  up  his  tent.  Fall  fishing  is  over  ami 
done. 

For  the  season  is  warm ;  the  snow  will  melt 
rapidly  off  the  mountains  and  foul  the  waters. 
An  early  flood  may  swell  the  fords  and  cut  off 
egress  from  the  narrow  canons ;  the  angler  is 
then  weatherbound  and  perhaps  short  of  pro- 
visions. He  may  find  himself  stalled,  like  the 
rustic  in  the  Latin  phrase,  "waiting  with  gap- 
ing mouth  for  the  river  to  cease  flowing." 

The  clouds  roll  by,  the  sun  shines  warm ;  the 
heavy  rains  may  still  lie  unborn  in  the  womb 
of  the  Pacific.  But  it  is  wise  not  to  linger  in 
the  mountains  in  the  month  of  Thanksgiving ; 
better  pack  and  return  to  the  plains.  You  have 
caught  your  last  string  of  trout  at  a  time  when 
your  fellow-craftsmen  of  the  north  arc  spin- 
ning their  yarns,  and  warming  themselves  be- 
fore the  club  fire.  And  you  go  home  to  find 
the  earth  teeming  with  green  blades,  and  smil- 
ing with  the  promise  of  the  orange  harvest. 


t 


%:-. 


MOUNTAIN    REST 


*OD  send  to  every  hot  and 
The  rest  of  one  dear  can 
teeming    haunts    ofc   men    a 

shadowed    trail,    the    while 
walk    thro'    all    the    wonder 

stop    to    pluck    a    flower, 


To  feast  the  eye  on 
The  silver  ribbon  of 
Some  vista  of  the  vin 
Some  castled  crag  or 
How    sweet    to    rise    a 


GOD   send   to   every   hot   and   tossing   heart 
Th-     rf*et      nf     nr,*     H^r     rsnnn     night.        To     leave 

i    climb    some    cool 
the    world    recedes ; 
of    the    hills 
a    flower,    and    gather    here 
filigree    of    fern ; 
some    green    stretch    of    pines, 
some   prowling    stream, 
es,  the  plain  behind, 
pinnacle   of  peak  before, 
nd    go    my   way   until 
I   reach   the  spot   where   Nature  hath   prepared 
Her    guest-room    for    me,    hung 
The    windows    open    softly    thro'    the   trees; 
The    ceiling    is    the    canopy    of    blue; 
The    couch — ah,    who    shall    say    how    finely    sweet 
The    spiced    aroma    of    the    needles    is, 
How    soft    the    perfumed    tangle    I    arrange 
As    twilight    falls?— and    n< 
Are    lighting    me    to    slumber    and 
The    darkness    round    me    like 
I    feel    my    mother,    Nature,    tuck    me    in. — 
And    now    the    white    regattas    of   the    clouds 
Sail    past    me    as    the    moonbeams    gently    kiss 
My    closing   eyes   to   rest    and   happy    dreams. 


fern. 


tape 


stars 


coverlet ; 


-Maur 


Smiley. 


=% 


-.J 


A  ©ay  ©na 


■ 


^.K-v. 


N  IDEAL  day  for  ducks,  in  the 
mind  of  our  Eastern  brethren, 
is  one  invariably  associated 
with  cold,  blustering  weather, 
wind,  sleet,  snow  and  the  thou- 
sand and  one  other  discomforts 
usually  attendant  on  such  cli- 
matic conditions.  But  out  here 
in  favored  California  it  is 
usually — but  not  always — a  day 
of  balmy  sensuousness,  tempered  with  just 
enough  wind  to  suit  the  shortest-sheared  lamb 
that  ever  gamboled.  Here  it  is  generally  a 
day  of  blue  skies  and  mirror-placid  waters, 
ruffled  a  bit,  mayhap,  in  the  heel  of  the  after- 
noon, by  a  gentle  breeze  seldom  strong  enough 
to  disperse  the  swarms  of  gnats  and  mosquitos 
that  always  complement  a  seance  with  Nature 
in    the   marsh    lands. 

It  is  just  before  morning  of  such  a  day 
that  I  awake  in  the  soft  dusk  which  drapes 
the  famous  Suisun  marsh  as  with  a  velvet 
mantle ;  a  morning  redolent  with  the  subtle 
odors  of  fen  and  bog,  a  morning  clamorous 
with  the  marsh  voices — umph  of  mallard, 
squeak  of  teal  and  whistle  of  widgeon, 
punctuated  melodiously  every  few  bars  of 
this  enchanting  music  with  the  grunts  of 
gorging  canvasbacks,  the  querulous  protest  of 
pintails — "sprigs"  in  the  Pacific  nomen- 
clature— or  the  sonorous  honk  of  Canada 
geese. 

In  the  blackness  of  the  hour  just  before 
dawn  everything  breathes  of  indeterminate 
mystery;  the  Cordelia  slough's  ripples  reflect 
in  oily  undulations  the  noiseless  passage  of 
some  adventurous  fowl,  fossicking  about  after 


By  Montezuma" 


some  stray  morsel  from  the  store  of 
duck  delectables  scattered  broadcast  by 
the  lavish  hand  of  my  host,  who  would 
rather  see  one  lone,  live  wild  duck  in  his  door- 
yard  decoy  puddle  than  a  hundred  dead  ones 
in  his  game  lockers.  Over  the  whole  marsh 
lies  the  dusky  promise  of  delights' to  come 
at  its  unveiling,  the  same  sort  of  promise  that 
lurks  in  the  reboza-hidden  sable  eyes  of  a 
southland  senorita,  coquettishly  turned  upon 
one  through  the  glamour  of  a  moonlit  mid- 
night. And  that  voice  of  the  night-robed 
Suisun!  How  it  soothes,  saddens,  thrills, 
subdues  and  exhilarates  one  in  turn,  if  not 
indeed  all  at  one  and  the  same  time.  But 
under  all  its  inflections  there  lies  an  assurance 
of  joy,  for  the  refrain  of  its  song  is  "Ducks, 
Ducks,  Ducks" — and  the  world  knows  what 
these  words  mean  on  the  Suisun:  thousands 
of  them,  now  and  for  all  time  to  come  if  the 
preserve  owners  and  sportsmen  will  only 
judiciously  conserve  their  heritage.  It  is  a 
pleasure  to  note  that  they  are  doing  so  on 
this  greatest  of  Pacific  duck  pastures ;  for 
five  days  of  each  week  in  the  open  season, 
and  seven  days  in  closed,  here  is  sanctuary 
and  good  living  for  the  toothsome  wanderers. 
On  most,  if  indeed  not  all  Suisun  preserves, 
shooting  is  discontinued  after  five  o'clock  in 
the  afternoon  of  the  two  weekly  shooting  days 
as  well,  despite  the  fact  that  the  wise  birds, 
with  a  "most  miraculous  comprehension  of 
horology,  defer  their  heaviest  flights  into  the 
well  baited  ponds  until  after  that  hour,  tim- 
ing with  exasperating  nicety  their  incoming 
just  ten  minutes  after  you  have  regretfully 
lifted  your  last  decoy.  This,  too,  in  face  of 
the  legal  sanction  to  shoot  for  more  than  sixty 
more  delirious  minutes,  under  conditions  that 
would  almost  positively  assure  a  full  "limit" 
bag  to  every  gun,  after  the  ethics  of  Suisun 
forbids  your  denting  another  primer.  And  yet 
the  envious — or,  let  us  say  rather  uninitiated — 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


Mr.    Richards   Shot    He 


Poling  to  My  Blind 


caviling  at  that  of  which  they  know  nothing 
and  seem  to  appreciate  less,  call  these  pre- 
serve owners  "greedy  game-hogs,  selfish  shoot- 
ing fiends,"  etc.,  ad  nauseam,  forgetting  that 
the  generous  overflow  of  these  duck-preserving, 
fowl  feeding  and  breeding  sanctuaries  will 
alone  secure  their  own  shooting  in  these  days 
of  fast  decreasing,  because  market-butchered 
birds ! 

But  "enough  of  homilies.  This  is  "Green 
Lodge,"  the  preserve  of  that  prince  of  duck 
hunters,  Mr.  W.  W.  Richards ;  the  day — and 
all  days  are  glorious  in  such  company  on  the 
Suisun — is  before  me,  and  there  goes  the 
breakfast  bell,  dulcet  sound !  For  one's  appe- 
tite always  sharpens  with  expectation,  and 
I  know  from  experience  what  to  expect  at 
Green  Lodge,  both  on  the  mahogany  and  in 
the  blind.      *      *      * 

By  a  most  comfortable  road  of  tule-screened 
planking  we  reach  the  boat  slips  just  as  the 
sable  lightens  to  puce  and  the  reflections  turn 


bluish-grey  instead  of  black.  As  the  keeper 
precedes  me  in  his  "tule-splitter"  to  point  the 
way  to  my  blind  and  put  out  the  decoys, 
there  is  a  thunderous  whirling  of  wings — 
overhead,  around,  everywhere  about — as  the 
fowl  leave  their  nocturnal  feast  and  scurry 
horizon-ward  at  our  approach.  When  he  has 
finally  gone,  with  a  word  of  good  wishing 
and  a  last  loving  pat  to  the  tule  sheets  of 
my  reclining  place,  I  get  the  old  briar-root 
under  way  and  grunt  in  soulful  gasps  the 
enjoyment  I  am  too  full  to  voice.  Over  in 
the  East  there  comes  a  red  thread  in  the 
somber  fabric  of  the  sky;  then  a  band  of 
mauve  edged  with  rose  fringes  the  hem  of 
Night's  kirtle  and  the  pond  before  me  is 
a  bowl  of  pink  wine.  I  stoop  forward  to 
replace  a  box  of  shells  on  the  blind  shelf — 
Zis-s-c-z! 

I  laugh  deprecatingly  as  I  eject  the  empties 
and  close  the  little  sixteen  gauge.  "That's 
what  comes  of  star-gazing  instead  of  attend- 


&m*Bnm% 

mmffrsiMi-  fj 

Lodge 


328 


western  vuu.d 


ing  in  business."  Hut  all  the  same  I  am  glad 
that  never  a  single  feather  floats  down.  I  was 
fully  three  feet  behind  that  brace  of  teal  com- 
ing from  behind  me  al  a  sixty-mile  gait, 
and  I  am  content  Better  that  than  an  im- 
possible to  mark  cripple.  But  all  the  same 
I  button  my  shooting  coat  at  the  neck  and 
tentatively  swing  the  butt  to  my  shoulder  to 
ascertain  and  provide  against  any  possible 
future   interference. 

That  is  better,  even  if  I  had  to  give  him 
a  second  barrel  coup  and  the  big  sprig  drifts 
shoreward  in  a  way  that  leaves  me  no  con- 
cern.    Less  than  a  minute  later  he  is  one  of 


silent  until  a  single  straggler  from  the  bunch 
staggers  twice  to  my  shots  and  flares  away 
to  his  finish  at  Richard's  hands. 

It  is  lighter  now  and  the  next  three  ducks, 
a  single  widgeon  and  a  brace  of  teal,  come 
to  misfortune  in  the  air  before  me.  Then  a 
series  of  ensuing  mishaps — birds  dropping 
dead  hundreds  of  yards  away  in  the  impene- 
trable tules,  as  utterly  lost  as  the  proverbial 
needle  in  the  haystack;  the  swerving  aside, 
at  the  inopportune  discharge  of  Richard's  gun, 
of  the  banner  flock  of  sprigs  of  the  day,  just 
as  they  were  about  to  swing  into  range ;  the 
miraculous  coming  to  life  of  one  of  my  half- 


three,  a  double  on  widgeon  completing  the 
trio,  and  I  am  beginning  to  breed  a  conceit 
that  is  carried  out  of  me  and  away  on  the 
wings  of  a  pair  of  blue-bills  whose  distance 
and  speed  I  badly  miscalculate.  Again  that 
determined  grip  on  the  gun  and  a  hardening 
of  the  wrinkles.  Then  a  lightning  snap  at 
three  ghostly  teal  and  the  merciful  second 
barrel  on  that  one  of  the  two  who  is  still 
kicking. 

"Mark,  Sprigs!" — and  I  watch  to  see  if  my 
host  has  heard.  Over  his  blind  they  circle  and 
swing  a  couple  of  times,  and  then  out  of  the 
team  tie  two  leaders  drop  as  the  nitro  im- 
peratively  calls.     Both    dead,   for   his   gun    is 


"An  unexpected  right  and  left 

hour  dead  teal,  who  deliberately  possomed  his 
float  to  a  point  out  of  range  and  then  got 
up  and  just  flew  away! 

Doesn't  Richards  ever  miss  any  birds !  They 
are  staying  with  him  at  every  shot  and  only 
twice  do  I  hear  him  "crippling."  I  am 
devoutly  glad  of  his  work,  for  like  the  gen- 
erous fellow  that  he  is  he  insisted  on  giving 
me  the  best  blind  and  his  chances  are  few 
in  comparison.  Thrice  he  pulls  birds  out  of 
the  sky  from  distances  that  make  me  yell 
with  sheer  delight — birds  killed  so  dead  that 
they   fall    like   plummets    and    stay   down. 

At  eleven  o'clock  comes  the  keeper  with 
a  call  to  luncheon,- followed  later  by  my  host 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


329 


with  his  camera.  With  malice  prepense  he 
snaps  my  attempts  at  two  separate  stragglers 
who  venture  over  my  head  as  I  am  retrieving 
my  dead  hirds,  and  were  it  not  for  the  fear 
that  it  would  draw  down  upon  my  devoted 
head  the  cry  of  "nature  faker"  from  some 
hypercritical  Teddy  hear,  I  would  caption  the 
picture  results  as  "An  unexpected  right  and 
left  while  retrieving,"  for  the  temptation  is 
great.  But  they  are  mighty  good  pictures — 
even  if  my  shooting  was  "rotten" — and  they 
are  reproduced  here  with  no  apology,  for 
Mr.  Richards  is  as  clever  with  the  camera 
as    he    is    with    a   hreechloader,   and   generous 


with  my  own  luck  in  being  here  in  full  en- 
joyment of  the  whole  combination?  In  the 
lassitude  of  perfect  relaxation  I  give  it  up 
and  fall  asleep  under  the  opiate  of  Suisun's 
magic   croon.       *       *      * 

"If  you  are  quite  ready,"  says  my  host  with 
an  apologetic  deference  that  but  thinly  veils 
his  impatience  with  my  blessed  laziness,  "I'd 
like  to  rout  out  that  cloud  of  mallards  before 
they  clean  up  all  the  bait  in  the  ponds." 

Mallards !  I  am  out  of  my  slippers  and 
into  waders  before  he  has  done  talking  and 
he  chuckles  at  the  transformation.  We  have 
discarded  the  heavy  clothing  of  the  morning. 


ng''      (Both  misses) 


to  a  fault  with  the  proceeds  of  both.  *  *  * 
'  In  the  luxurious  half  hour  of  hammock  and 
cigars  that  succeeds  luncheon,  I  try  to  figure 
out  which  I  envy  most :  my  host  or  his  head 
keeper,  Ed.  Scott.  I  decide  at  length  on  the 
latter,  for  while  money,  brains  and  unlimited 
energy  will  attain  to  about  all  the  good  things 
there  are  going,  yet  they  don't  stand  deuce 
high  in  comparison  with  Scott's  luck  at  getting 
■  such  a  berth  as  he  so  admirably  fills.  Money 
can't  buy  true  loyalty  any  more  than  it  can  buy 
the  wag  of  a  dog's  tail  and  so,  after  all, 
the  luck  is  on  my  host's  side  again — and  it 
is  only  the  luck,  not  the  material  possessions 
that    I    envy.     And   then,    what's    the   matter 


and  clad  in  light  weights  more  compatible 
with  the  over-warm  air,  are  soon  in  our 
blinds  waiting  expectantly  for  the  unfailing 
two  o'clock  flight. 

For  some  reason  there  has  been  very  little 
shooting  on  adjacent  preserves  air  day,  and 
only  an  occasional  shot  at  long  intervals 
breaks  the  silence  of  the  SuisUn,  excepting 
always  the  continuous  clamor  of  thousands  of 
geese  overhead,  wedging  their  way  across  the 
blue  ether  with  contemptuous  disregard  of 
the  puny  mortals  beneath  their  feet.  Never 
by  any  chance,  on  a  fair  day  like  this,  do 
they  come  within  scatter-gun  range,  and  as 
I    lazily   watch    their   aerial    maneuvers    I    re- 


330 


WESTERN  FIELD 


solve — as  1  always  re- 
olvi  and  never  do — 
to  bring  ;i  small  bore 
rifle  :i  1<  >i i vc.  next  time, 
and  fool  some  of 
those  big  loafei  s 

"Mark!"  and  I 
swing  the  little  Le- 
fever  ahead  of  a  big 
sprig  who  tumbles 
almost  into  the  blind, 
his  team  mate  stand- 
ing on  his  tail  in  the 
effort  to  get  away 
from    that   mysterious 


effort  to  quietly  watch  the  incoming  horde 


and   at   last   the  hour 
of  five  arrives. 

When  we  count 
noses  and  bills  at  the 
slip  we  tally  up  better 
than  forty  birds  be- 
tween us — enough  and 
more  than  enough. 
Vet  it  takes  an  ef- 
fort to  stand  quietly 
watching  the  hordes 
of  incoming  birds 
hurtling  around  us  at 
easy  range,  secure  in 
their  knowledge,  how- 


hail  Which  always 
flies  upward  instead  of 
downward  and  stings 
so  viciously.  He  ac- 
complishes it  in  safety, 
but  makes  the  mistake 
of  swinging  across 
the  danger  zone  of  the 
heavy  twelve  gauge 
in  my  host's  blind, 
and  he  pays  the  pen- 
alty of  his  last  great 
mistake.  Then  anon 
there  come  flares  of 
widgeon  and  hailings 
of  teal  that  alike  pay 
toll   in    their    passing, 


'A  last  lingering  look" 


beit  mysteriously  ac- 
quired, that  it  is  five 
o'clock  and  all  danger 
is  over  for  a  half 
week  more. 

We  take  one  last 
lingering  look  at  a 
cloud  of  ducks  cir- 
cling above  the  blinds 
we  have  just  left, 
then  with  light  hearts 
but  heavy  game  straps 
we  bend  our  steps  to 
the  Lodge,  filled  with 
the  ineffable  content- 
ment born  of  a  good 
day    on    the    Suisun. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


331 


ENGLISH   SPORT 


By  R.  Clapham. 


PART   V.      Fox-hunting   in   the   Lake   District. 


HEN  summer  wanes  and  the 
turning  of  the  leaves  heralds 
the  approach  of  autumn,  then 
does  the  hunting  man  in  Eng- 
land begin  to  think  about  the 
coming  season  and  calculate 
on  ways  and  means  to  enable 
him  to  enjoy  his  favorite  sport 
with  hounds. 

If  he  be  a  wealthy  man 
and  happens  to  live  within  the  limits  of  one 
of  the  crack  hunt  territories,  he  will  keep 
up  a  stable  of  hunters  and  enjoy  sport  with 
the  best  of  them  in  the  Shires. 

Possibly  he  may  be  but  a  one-horse  man, 
and  if  so  he  will  probably  seek  out  some 
pack  of  harriers  or  less  fashionable  provincial 
fox-hound  pack  with  whom  to  enjoy  his  sport, 
or  it  may  be  that  he  relies  solely  on  his  own 
stout  legs  to  carry  him  during  the  day,  and 
if  so  he  can  choose  between  many  packs  both 
in  the  Nortli  and  South,  all  of  which  are 
patronized  entirely  by  foot-hunters,  and  which 
show  the  best  of  sport  to  their  fields. 

Most  of  these  foot-packs  consist  of  harriers, 
beagles  or  basset  hounds,  and  their  quarry 
is  the  hare,  but  should  our  Nimrod  still 
wish  to  hunt  'bold  Reynard',  he  will  be 
obliged  to  migrate  to  the  northern  district, 
amongst  the  crags,  mountains  and  moors  of 
Cumberland  and  Westmoreland ;  where  the 
foxhounds,  hunted  and  followed  on  foot,  run 
into  and  pull  down  the  wild  hill-foxes  of  the 
fells. 

To  follow  a  foxhound  pack  on  foot,  when 
the  huntsman  and  his  field  are  mounted,  is 
a  business  not  easy  of  accomplishment  in  the 
low-country,  unless  the  runner  be  extremely 
long  winded  and  have  an  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  district  and  the  run  of  the  foxes ; 
although  at  the  present  time  there  are  official 
hunt  "runners"  with  several  of  the  well- 
known  packs. 

The  writer  has  followed  and  run  with  both 
the  Braham  Moor  and  Badsworth  hounds 
in   Yorkshire,   on   off   days   when   he   was   not 


hunting  with  the  Beagles  or  Bassets,  and  has 
managed  to  see  considerable  sport  into  the 
bargain ;  but  the  strain  on  a  person  who 
regularly  hunts  on  foot  with  a  fast  pack  is 
rather  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  unless  that 
person  be  abnormally  keen  and  possesses  the 
above  mentioned  atrtibutes  also,  i.  e.,  good 
wind,  and  a  sound  constitution,  coupled 
with  great  powers  of  endurance. 

In  the  Lake  District  of  Cumberland  and 
Westmoreland  the  runner  can  find  his  ideal, 
for  in  this  mountainous  country  the  hounds 
are  all  hunted  and  followed  on  foot,  owing 
to  the  unrideable  nature  of  the  surroundings 
in  which  the  hill  foxes  live  and  carry  on  their 
depredations.  The  visitor  must  not  expect  to 
see  a  well  groomed  field  of  mounted  men, 
with  all  the  glories  of  pink  coats  and  snowy 
breeches,  but  instead  a  crowd  of  sporting 
farmers,  dalesmen  who  know  every  inch  of  the 
country  and  are  keen  and  eager  to  see  hounds 
run.  The  huntsman,  usually  a  weather- 
beaten,  sharp  featured  man,  hardy  as  the 
foxes  he  hunts,  is  the  only  person  who  dons 
the  scarlet  and  a  hunting  cap,  and  his  hounds 
and  terriers  are  a  hard-working,  hard-bitten 
pack,  game  to  run  all  day  and  all  night  if 
need  be,  over  a  country  which  is  one  of  the 
roughest  and  most  dangerous  in  England. 

Many  of  these  north  country  hounds  are 
the  direct  descendants  of  those  once  hunted 
by  that  most  famous  of  all  north  country 
huntsmen — John  Peel — of  whom  was  written 
the  well  known  song  'D'ye  ken  John  Peel' 
sung  at  all  hunt  dinners  and  other  jollifica- 
tions from  England  to  the  Antipodes,  where- 
ever  a  few  hunting  men  from  the  Old  Land 
foregather  in  the  interest  of  their  beloved 
sport  with  horn  and  hound.  The  writer  has 
heard  it  and  joined  in  the  chorus  both  in 
New  Zealand  and  Canada,  as  well  as  in  the 
district  in  which  the  famous  huntsman  once 
showed  such  excellent  sport  in  the  old  days. 

A  great  number  of  these  north  country 
hounds  are  of  lighter  build  than  those  in  use 
in    the    Shires    and    the    Provinces,    for    the 


334 


M  ESTERb   FIELD 


simple  reason  that  the  roiigh  country  they 
hunt  needs  a  lot  of  getting  over,  and  a 
moderately  light  hound  can  go  the  pace  better 
than  a  heavy  one  under  such  conditions. 

They  are  also,  many  of  them,  as  for  in- 
stance the  Eskdale  and  Enncrdalc  pack,  bred 
very  light  in  colour,  being  almost  white,  with 
but  few  dark  markings,  the  reason  for  which 
is    that    the    huntsman    can    see    them    at    a 


Coverts  are  few  and  far  between,  and 
amongst  the  higher  parts  of  the  district  there 
are  none  at  all,  the  foxes  living  amongst  the 
cliffs  and  masses  of  loose  rock  which  cover 
much  of  the  country. 

When  once  their  fox  is  unkenneled  and 
away,  the  pack  have  their  work  cut  out  to 
race  him  to  death  over  a  difficult  and  danger- 
ous country,  and  it  often  happens  that  hounds 


ng  the   Ulswatej^Pack  at   Ble 


End 


greater  distance  when  running  amongst  the 
hills,  than  he  could  if  they  were  dark  colored, 
as  the  white  shows  up  far  better  against  the 
dark  background  of  mountain  and  heather. 

The  methods  of  hunting  these  hill-foxes 
carry  us  back  in  fancy  to  the  old  days  when 
every  Squire  and  yeoman  kept  hounds  and 
trailed  up  to  their  fox  or  hare  very  early  in 
the  morning.  There  is  no  great  gathering 
at  11  o'clock  in  the  morning,  a  quick  draw,  a 
"Tally  O!  gone  away!"  with  the  pack  crashing 
out  of  cover  almost  on  the  back  of  their 
fox,  but  instead,  an  early  meet,  and  then  a 
long  draw  up  to  their  fox,  before  the  pack 
unkennel  him  and  start  to  force  him  along 
for  his  life. 


get  crag-bound  from  following  a  fox  onto 
some  almost  inaccessible  ledge  amongst  the 
cliffs,  from  which  there  is  no  return,  and  a 
rescue  has  to  be  effected  by  means  of  some 
hardy  dalesman  and  a  rope,  with  which  the 
adventurous  rescuer  is  lowered  over  the  rocks 
to  enable  him  to  save  the  hound  from  his 
precarious  position. 

A  fox  will  often  thus  take  temporary 
refuge  upon  some  ledge  or  other  position  on 
the  rocks  where  he  fancies  he  is  safe  from 
his  pursuers,  and  this,  in  the  parlance  of  the 
district  is  termed  "binking".  Usually,  how- 
ever, some  hound  is  about  as  good  a  climber 
as  the  fox,  and  Reynard  has  to  quickly 
evacuate  his  post  in  favor  of  some  other  and 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


335 


safer  position.  It  is  of  course  utterly  im- 
possible to  stop  any  earths  as  they  do  in 
the  low  country,  and  consequently  a  great 
many  foxes  are  run  to  ground  amongst  the 
rocks  and  have  to  be  bolted  by  the  terriers. 

Here  again,  danger  intrudes  upon  the  sport. 
The  terriers,  always  the  gamest  of  the  game, 
will  go  to  ground  in  any  hole  or  crevice  into 
which  they  can  squeeze  their  way,  and  even 
though  they  reach  their  fox,  at  times  they 
cannot  bolt  him,  and  by  moving  around  in  the 
subterranean  passages,  rocks  and  stones  are 
disturbed    and  their  outlet  is  cut  off. 

This  of  course  necessitates  a  rescue  by 
those  outside,  and  great  care  has  to  be  taken 
when  moving  rocks  so  as  to  get  near  the 
dogs,  that  no  stones  or  other  masses  of  rock 
become  loosened  and  fall  in  upon  them. 
Terriers   have   been   killed   by   such   accidents. 


Some  extraordinary  long  runs  have  been 
recorded  with  many  of  these  packs,  as  the 
annals  of  the  hunts  will  show;  and  at  the 
present  time,  the  runs  are  always  of  far  longer 
duration  than  any  that  take  place  in  the  low 
country. 

These  hill  packs  run  into  and  kill  their  fox 
but  do  not  break  him  up,  which  is  a  good 
thing  when  one  considers  the  difficulty  at- 
tached to  the  sport :  i.  e.  being  able  to  keep 
sufficiently  close  to  hounds,  to  be  up  at  the 
kill;  and  save  a  brush  or  a  mask  as  a 
memento  of  the  run. 

The  North  country,  like  the  "West 
Countree"  of  Devon  and  Somerset,  can  count 
amongst  its  Masters  of  Hounds  a  parson,  just 
as  the  famous  'Parson  Jack  Russell'  was  so 
well  known  with  the  staghounds  and  fox- 
hounds   over    the    heather    of    Dartmoor    and 


l  hi 


and  others  have  been  imprisoned  for  days  at 
a  time,  until  their  release  was  finally  effected. 
Should  the  fox  bolt  however,  the  pack  are 
in  waiting  outside,  and  it  is  usually  but  a 
short  lived  run  before  Reynard  is  bowled  over 
and  the  Woo-Whoop !  echoes  amongst  the 
hills. 


the  coombes  and  hills  of  the  south-west. 

The  Rev.  J.  C.  Reynolds  is  Master  of  the 
Coniston  Foxhounds  and  he  still  is  keen  on 
the  sport  he  loves  so  well.  The  Lake 
District  packs  retain  their  Masters  as  a  rule 
for  very  lengthy  periods,  as  witness  the  late 
Mr.  John   Crozier,   Master  of  the   Blencathra, 


336 


WESTERN  FIELD 


John   Peel— From   an   Old   Print 

who  carried  the  horn  for  a  period  of  over 
sixty  years  before  his  death,  a  record  to  be 
proud  of,  as  being  the  oldest  M.  F.  H.  in 
England. 

An  account  of  hill  fox-hunting  would  be 
hardly  complete  without  a  mention  of  John 
Peel,  the  once  famous  Cumberland  huntsman ; 
and  to  those  who  know  the  song  "D'ye  ken 
John  Peel",  a  few  facts  concerning  the 
famous  character  himself  may  be  of  interest. 
John  Peel  was  a  man  of  six  feet  and  more  in 
height,  and  his-  education,  beyond  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  hunting,  was  of  the  most  limited 
description.  He  was  born  at  Ruthwaite  near 
Treby.  and  lie  was  finally  laid  to  rest  in  the 
church-yard  of  Coldbeck,  at  the  foot  of  the 
hills  he  loved  so  well. 

No  wile  of  fox  or  hare  could  ever  escape 
him',  and  he  gave  up  everything  to  enjoy  the 
sport  he  loved.  It  is  said  of  him  that  no 
earthly  consideration,  not  even  the  death  of  a 
relative,  would  cause  him  to  leave  hounds 
once  they  were  on  their  quarry's  line.  He 
was  a  capital  runner  and  also  a  good  horse- 
man, and  like  many  other  old  time  hunts- 
man, he  was  fond  of  his  glass.  He  used  to 
ride  a  pony  which  would  always  carry  him 
safely  home  when  under  the  influence — which 


used  to  occur  rather  frequently  after  the 
excitement  of  a  good  run  was  over — and  hs 
had  retired  to  some  village  inn  to  pass  the 
evening,  and  hunt  the  fox  over  again  with 
his    special    cronies. 

It  is  said  of  him  that  he  rode  after  and 
caught  a  hare  with  his  whip-thong,  just  as 
Parson  Jack  Russell  once  rode  down  and 
captured  a  fawn  with  his  whip  in  a  park  on 
one  of  the  Devonshire  estates. 

Amongst  those  of  a  later  generation  who 
were  able  to  remember  him,  can  be  men- 
tioned Sir  Wilfred  Lawson,  who  was  entered 
by  him  with  his  own  hounds. 

Peel  died  in  the  year  1854,  and  in  1858, 
four  years  after  his  death,  an  extremely  long 
run  is  recorded  of  twenty  miles  from  Skiddaw 
to  Coniston. 

Peel  had  a  son  named  Peter,  who  took 
after  his  father  in  his  love  for  hounds  and 
hunting.  John  Woodcock  Graves,  who  wrote 
the  famous  hunting  song,  was  a  frequent 
visitor  to  Peel's  house  and  he  tells  us  that 
the  young  Peter,  instead  of  saying  his  prayers 
on  going  to  bed,  would  instead,  begin  by  a 
call  to  the  hounds.  He  would  speak  aloud, 
and  hunt  them  thus  by  name  from  the  quest 
upwards.  As  Graves  says  "Peel  would  look  at 
me  and  exclaim  'Damn  it!  Peter  has  her  off! 
Noo  he'll  gae  to  sleep !'  Peel  would  listen  to 
the  boy  as  he  spoke,  and  looking  to  the  reality 
of  the  supposed  hunt  would  exclaim,  now  and 
then  :  'Noo,  Peter,  that's  a  double,  try  back ! 
Hark  ye !'  etc.,  when  there  was  an  imaginary 
check ;  or  'That's  Mopsy  running  foil ;  run 
Peter,  run !'  etc.,  until  the  hunt  was  ended  and 
the  boy  fell  asleep.  Peel's  tombstone  in  Cold- 
beck  churchyard  is  decorated  with  designs  of  a 
hunting  horn  and  whip,  as  befits  the  memory 
of  such  an  accomplished  huntsman.  His  old 
pack,  after  his  death,  once  ran  their  fox 
through  the  churchyard  and  over  his  grave, 
pulling  their  quarry  down  close  to  the  last 
resting  place  of  the  man  who  could  give  the 
shrillest  view  hallo  and  was  the  finest  hunts- 
man in  the  north  country. 

The  correct  words  of  the  old  song  have 
from  time'  to  time  been  altered  from  the 
original,  and  it  does  not  read  quite  correctly 
according  to  the  first  copies  issued ;  as  for 
instance  the  line  'D'ye  ken  John  Peel  with 
his  coat  so  gay"  is  in  reality  'D'ye  ken  John 
Peel  with  his  coat  sae  gray'  as  Peel  did  not 
wear  scarlet  when  hunting. 

Of  the  present  day  packs  hunting  the  Lake 
District  the  following  list  is   I   think  correct. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


337 


Blencathra  (11 1/2  couple),  (Three  days  a 
week),   Kennels   Threlkeld,   Keswick. 

Coniston  (9J^  couple),  (vari9us),  Kennels 
The  Green,  Ambleside. 

Eskdale    and    Ennerdale    (15    couple),    (two 
days  a   week),   Kennels   Milkinstead,   Eskdale. 

Ullswater  (13  couple),  (Three  per  week), 
Kennels  Patterdale  Hall,  Pemith.. 

Windermere  Harriers  (fox  and  hare),  (16 
couple),  (Three  days  a  week),  Kennels 
Ambleside,  Windermere. 

There  are  other  huntsmen  who  follow  in  the 
steps  of  John  Peel,  as  for  instance  Joe  Bow- 


packs,  all  have  a  tendency  to  shorten  the 
life  of  the  sport;  and  though  it  cannot  lose,  at 
least  for  many  years,  its  hold  upon  the  people, 
it  is  yet  year  by  year  becoming  more  and 
more  the  sport  of  the  wealthy  inhabitants. 

To  those  who  love  hunting  for  hunting's 
sake,  and  who  like  to  see  hounds  work  ir- 
respective of  the  attractions  of  galloping  and 
jumping,  the  Lake  District  holds  out  a 
welcoming  hand ;  for  there  the  sport  is  really 
wild,  like  the  country  and  the  foxes  which 
inhabit  it,  and  so  it  will  be  for  years  to  come, 
for  the  simple  reason  that  building  operations, 


II 


man,  huntsman  to  the  Ullswater,  who  is  a 
great  favorite  and  an  acknowledge^  expert 
with  the  pack  he  hunts. 

It  is  not  an  easy  life,  and  a  man  who  would 
aspire  to  carrying  the  horn  with  a  Lakeland 
pack  must  be  inured  to  rough  weather  and 
long  tramps  o'er  hill  and  mountain. 

Fox-hunting  in  the  Shires  and  other  south- 
ern counties  is  not  what  it  used  to  be  in  our 
forefathers'  days.  The  increase  of  wire,  and 
the  gradual  encroachment  of  bricks  and 
mortar  into  various  districts  once  good  hunt- 
ing territory,  to  say  nothing  of  the  enormous 
fields  which  turn  out  to  meet  the  fashionable 


crowds  of  people  and  other  nuisances  will 
have  no  place  in  such  a  mountainous  and 
picturesque  environment. 

Now  foxes  may  prowl  in  the  wide  open  day, 

Nor  the  hare  out  so  lightly  need  steal ; 

For  the  hounds  have  all  singled  and  gone  far 

away, 
When  they  heard  of  the  death  of  John  Peel. 

Ye    foxes    that    prowl    in    the    churchyard    to 

howl, 
Beware  of  his  grave  as  you  go ; 
Or  to  your  surprise,  by  Jove  he  may  rise, 
With  a  screech  and  a  loud  Tally!  Ho. 


338 


WESTERN  FIELD 


~-^jT 


-? 


ARCH    ROCK 


XV/AS    it    a    thousand    years    in    building?1 
"     Or    myriad    ages   till    it   was    complete? 
How  many  waVes  were  at  work  in  the  forming. 
Treading   its   base   with   persistent    feet? 
How    many    tides    were    ebbing    and    flowing, 
Dashing,    and    smoothing    the    wall    away — 
As    adamant    seeming — with    gem-lights    flashing 
When  the  green  waves  broke  in  a  mist  of  spray? 
Billow     on     billow     forever    returning, 
Dying    mid    pearl-drops    in    efforts    faint. 
Spending   their    strength    at    the    unopened    portal 
That    ever    ignored    their    ceaseless*   plaint, 
Till,  all  of  a   sudden  it  oped — and  then 
The    entering    sea   merely    moaned  #gain. 

— M.   Pauline  Scott. 


N  THE  heart  of  the  Red  Earth 
country,  about  one  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  north  of  San 
Francisco,  today  one  may  see 
rancherias  of  Indian  villages 
called  pomos.  These  are  most 
numerous  in  Sonoma,  Lake  and 
Mendocino  counties,  where  the 
creeks  around  Russian  river 
abound  in  fish.  "Bam,"  the 
basket  plant,  either  grass,  vine  or  tree,  grows 
in  profusion  in  the  root  of  sedge,  wild  grape, 
or  willow  along  the  fringed  edges  of  lake  and 
stream.  The  sherry-brown-red  bark  of  the  root 
of  the  redwood  tree  and  the  brilliant  black 
covering  of  the  unpeeled  tule  root — especi- 
ally the  rare  species  known  as  "flowering 
tule,"  a  dioecious  plant  of  which  only  the  male 
variety  produces  the  blossom,  are  used  for 
patterns. 

The  Poma  clans  excel  in  the  art  of  basketry, 
and  although  their  art.  from  the  infusion  of 
Spanish  blood,  bears  the  stamp  of  European 
taste  and  refinement,  with  the  true  intuition  of 
her  race,  the  Poma  woman  shows  a  manipula- 
tion of  the  material  truly  aboriginal.    Feather 


basketry  reaches  the  acme  in  the  form  of  a 
little  red  basket,  Ta  sitol,  commonly  called 
the  "sun  basket."  Though  Indian  in  design 
and  intention,  this  basket  is  not  known  among 
aboriginal  tribes,  as  it  symbolizes  the  union  of 
two  races,  having  originated  with  the  half- 
breed  clans  who  crossed  the  plains  four  hun- 
dred years  ago  at  the  time  of  the  discovery  of 
the  Mississippi  river,  the  guides  of  De  Soto. 

The  stitch  is  on  a  three  rod  foundation  of 
the  bamshibu  or  coiled  type,  the  coils  being  wil- 
low rods  soaked  and  bound  in  the  form  of  a 
circle  to  give  them  shape.  These  rods  can  be 
extended  to  any  size  after  being  once  dried. 
For  weaving,  the  strand  used  is  the  root  of 
sedge  grass  {carex)  between  the  stitches  of 
which,  while  weaving,  feathers  of  the  red 
crested  woodpecker  are  laid  one  at  a  time. 
On  the  border  is  sometimes  a  band  of  yellow, 
made  of  the  feathers  of  the  yellow-throated 
lark,  edged  on  the  rim  with  a  row  of  kaya, 
flat  disks  of  shell  wampum.  These  white 
disks  have  given  the  Poma  woman  the  name 
of  "The  White  Bead  Woman  of  the  Far 
West,"  though  really  they  are  not  beads  at  all, 
but   are   made    in   different   sizes   representing 


Pinole  Bowl,  "Tee"  We 


Meal    Tray,    "Bamtush" 


340 


WES  rr.RN  FIELD 


Jewel    Baskets— "Bamshibu" 


the  value  of  silver  money.  Their  value  has 
much  depreciated  since  the  early  days  of 
California   history,    still,   at   present   they   are 


ick    Coiled    "Bamshibu 


worth  one  hundred  eighty,  one  hundred  sixty, 
and  one  hundred  twenty  to  the  American 
dollar  in  average  sizes.     The  largest  of  them 


Washoe    Jewel    Basket — Butterfly    Design 


are  worth  twenty  cents  each,  and  the  smallest 
two  hundred  and  twenty  to  the  dollar.  For 
gold,  a  hexagonal  prism  of  magnesite,  much 
resembling  meerschaum,  is  the  standard  of 
these  Indians,  used  in  trade  with  the  first 
Spanish  settlers. 

On  the  most  elaborate  sun  baskets  gold 
wampum  is  made  into  the  same  form  as  silver, 
and  differs  from  it  in  appearance  by  having  a 
tinge  in  veins  of  the  red  of  iron  pyrites  of  the 
red  earth  where  it  is  found.  On  baskets  made 
by  Lake  tribes,  whose  token  is  the  "kea"  or 
quail  plume,  sometimes  a  border  of  Tsai-kakh- 
kcyci  is  made  on  the  edge,  each  quail  top  held 
in  place  by  a  bead. 

Near  the  headwaters  of  Russian  river,  at 
Potter  Valley,  is  a  mound  of  red  earth  built 
by  the  Pomas  to  celebrate  the  feast  of  the 
sacrament.  Sun  offerings  of  bright  colored 
feather  baskets  are  made,  the  Yukis  decorat- 
ing theirs  with  ground  abalone  pendants  that 
add  richly  to  the  brilliant  setting,  every  touch 
of  sunlight  bringing  out  a  new  light  in  the 
nacre  of  the  shell. 

Modern  California  specimens  show  a  variety 
of  feathers  of  different  birds — the  green  head 
of  the  mallard,  the  golden  oriole,  the  Spanish 
robin,  and  the  jay,  each  contributing  with  its 
own  beautiful  plumage  an  added  hue. 

Though  just  restrictions  should  be  placed 
upon  the  slaughter  of  the  innocents  for  such 
a  purpose,  it  can  be  said  in  favor  of  the  Indian 
that  he  uses  judgment  in  the  number  and  kind 
of  birds  that  he  shoots,  and  most  of  the  baskets 
are  made  from  the  coats  of  edible  or  de- 
structive kinds.  Most  of  the  pattern  baskets 
are  simply  dotted  at  intervals  with  beads  and 
feathers,  and  these  are  truly  the  most  artistic 
— being  found  in  the  shape  cf  bowls,  boats, 
and  cones.  When  wrought  for  beauty 
alone  they  are  called  "jewel  baskets"  and 
have  figures  expressive  of  sentiment  or  tra- 
dition. Favorites  among  these  are  the  hoof 
of  the  running  deer,  of  the  standing  deer,  the 
rattlesnake,  the  mountain  brook,  and  the  wind. 

A  rare  and  sometimes  misinterpreted  de- 
sign is  that  known  as  the  "flame  pattern," 
symbolizing  the  death  fire  at  cremation.  This 
is  similar  to  the  U'a-sho  design,  the  departing 
spirit  of  life.  In  it  there  is  indication  among 
the  savages  of  a  belief  in  immortality.  Sad 
to  relate,  in  their  baskets  this  significant 
figure  has  barely  survived  the  custom  of  burn- 
ing the  body  in  a  funeral  pyre  built  upon  the 
hilltops,  and  is  sacred  to  seasons  of  mourning. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


341 


For  use  and  strength  the  different  weaves 
are  unsurpassed,  in  fact  they  are  carried  to 
perfection  by  Poma  weavers — the  cone  basket 
for  carrying  burdens,  the  pinole  bowls  for 
cooking  and  for  dishes,  acorn  gatherers  large 
and  small,  and  grain  vessels  for  storage  of  the 
winter  supplies.  Few  variations  from  regular 
types  occur.  The  shu-sct  is  the  oldest  twine 
weave.  Of  ornamental  baskets  the  bamshibu, 
called  three  stick,  takes  the  lead.  It  is  the 
foundation  weave  of  most  solid  feather  work; 
bam  tush  is  stronger,  coarser  material  of  the 
fibre  of  grape  vine,  making  a  dark  cream 
ground  with  horizontal  bands  of  cucis,  the 
red-bud  tree  known  as  mountain  birch.  This 
comes  to  perfection  after  the  fall  rains  when 
its  color  is  brightest,  only  the  root  bark  being 
used.  A  typical  old  stitch  is  the  tsai,  or  one 
stick,  delicate  and  graceful  of  plain  pattern  in 
black  and  white,  sometimes  profusely  inter- 
laid with  quail  tips.  The  tee  is  an  anomaly,  a 
double-faced  texture  with  the  firmness  and 
consistency  of  cloth.  Most  of  the  foundation 
material  is  willow-rod  and  sedge  root,  stained 
brown  or  black  for  the  pattern  by  burying  in 
mud  or  hot  ashes. 

I  watched  the  Poma  woman  at  her  work. 
The  method  was  so  simple  it  seemed  like  the 
following   of   an   intuition    rather    than   of.  an 


art,  deftly  coiling,  weaving,  twining.  Besides 
her  fingers  she  used  a  basin  of  water  and  an 
awl,  the  one  to  keep  the  root  pliable,  the  other 
to  hold  it  in  place.  With  bits  of  broken  glass 
she  scraped  the  thread,  sometimes  smoothing 
the  rough  places  by  drawing  the  weft  between 
the  teeth  with  patience  that  amounts  to  a 
passion.  Winter  finds  her  sitting  on  the  floor 
of  her  farm  house,  summer  out  in  a  cu,  that 
is  a  dwelling  made  of  any  kind  of  arbor- 
escence  that  she  prefers,  and  it  is  her  custom 
to  hang  the  jewelled  treasures  when  finished 
about  the  doorway  at  sunrise  as  a  peace  offer- 
ing to  the  great  life-giving  spirit,  Yu,  the  sun, 
Yii-ki  in  the  ancient  language  of  the  sun- 
worshipper  means  "sun  in  the  house,"  and  the 
sun-spirit  is  the  source  of  healing  power  to 
,  the  Yuki  medicine  man. 

Into  their  Indian  basket  they  have  woven  the 
life  blood  and  fortunes  of  another  race,  the 
red  and  the  gold  of  Spain — and  in  the  mesas 
and  mounds  of  California  from  time  to  time 
are  found  gifts  to  the  dead  in  wampum,  jars, 
and  baskets.  Far  from  civilization  the  abor- 
igines have  carried  into  their  art  the  true 
nature  of  their  being,  such  of  life  as  they  have 
seen  and  touched  and  felt,  and  there  is  a  noble 
instinct  in  the  sincerity  of  it. 


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•Shuset"    Burden    Basket— Twined   We 


WES  FERN  FIELD 


WINTER  IN  VICTORIA,  B.  C. 

HERE     is     no     sharp    extreme    of    biting    cold; 
No  deluge  drear  from  lowering  cloud  outpours; 

No    boisterous    rasping    wind    its    fury    roars; 
Nor    is    the    land    gripped    in    the    Frost    King's    hold. 
The    sky    is    green,    dull    green    the    grassy    wold, 

The    sable    crow    calls    loudly    as    he   soars 

From  the  dark  festooned  fir,  to  where,  in  scores, 
His  mates  the  gnarled  oak's  writhing  arms  enfold. 
The    rose    still    shows    late    hips    of    yesteryear, 

The    glistening    holly    flaunts    her    berries    red, 
Afar,    through    purple    mists,    the    hills    appear, 

While   smiles   the   warm,   benignant   Sun   o'er   head. 
Nature's    not    dead;    she   does   but   gently   sleep. 
List!      Spring's    sweet    call;    the   buds    begin    to*peep. 
— Donald   A.    Fraser. 


o 


TO  THE   OLD  YEAR 

LD  year,  we  thank  thee  for  thy  clouds  of  gray 
That  hovered  o'er  us;  though  thy  sunshine  bright 
as    gladdening    to    our    saddened    eyes    alway, 
Yet    from    thy    gloom    we    won    the    clearer    sight. 


Old    year,    we    thank    thee    for    our    sorrow's    pain 
More  than  all   else,   for  though  thy  joys  were  rar 

We    won    of    suffering    that    priceless    gain — ■ 

The    understanding    heart    that    yearns    to    share. 
—  Grate  G.  Bostivick. 


ACROSS  THE  WINTRY  FIELDS 

I    LOOK    far    out    across    the    wintry    fields— 
The  great  cold  fields,  with  all  their  grasses  dead. 
How   still  they   lie,   stretched   low   across  the  world 
Like"  vassals,  crushed  beneath  the  Frost  King's  tread. 

The    ponds    lie    hushed    within    a    leaden    thrall; 
I  hear  no  sound — save  where  the  wind  blows  through 
The    old,    dead    corn ;    and,    sent    by    unseen    force, 
A    tumble    weed    rolls    weirdly    into    view. 

The  sky  sends  forth  her  bitter  chilling  breath. 
And  here  and  there  spits  bits  of  stinging  snow; 
While  threateningly  from  out  the  brooding  west 
Huge    banks    of    heavy    darkening    clouds    hang    low. 

Dull-plumaged   snowbirds   flit   from   barren   boughs ; 
A    lonely    hawk    wings    forth    his    aimless    flight; 
An    early    lighted    lamp    gleams    from    afar. 
Bespeaking    friendly    cheer — and    it    is    night! 

—Grace    G.    Crowell. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


343 


WINTER  DELIGHTS  IN  CALIFORNIA. 


A  Well-known  Quartet  of  Los  Angeles  Sportsmen,  and  Their   Bag  of  Ducks,   Doves   and    Cottontails,  made 
in  the   Imperial   Valley 


Bv  Andrew  Comstock  McKenzie 


[M,  who  was  with  me  in  the 
iron  canoe  when  we  went 
gunning  for  the  great  'gators 
of  the  Guayas  River,  in 
Ecuador,  now  insists  my 
writing  it  down  in  the  begin- 
ning that  this  is  a  truthful 
narrative. 

"And  put  it  down,  mon," 
says  Jim,  who  is  a  young 
Scotch  baronet,  and  canny,  "that  we  are 
both  total  abstainers," — which  we  are  not. 
"Or,"  says  Jim,  "they'll  think  it  is  purely 
the  drink  when  you  tell  the  highly  improb- 
able strict  truth  that  we  saw  five  hundred 
'gators  in  a  couple  of  hours  of  paddling 
down  a  bit  creek  and  not  a  one  of  them  a 
slimy  inch  under  fifteen  foot.  And  if  you 
write  the  plain  truth  of  how  we  rode 
through  the  clouds  to  get  to  the  'gator 
ground,  nearly  freezing  on  the  equator, 
they'll  set  you  down  as  a  most  awful 
drunkard,  mon."  I  turn  to  my  writing. 
"And  put  in  the  four  foot  lizards  which 
that  bally  cholo  wanted  us  to  eat,"  he  adds, 
sarcastically.  "They  are  a  bit  more  im- 
probable a  truth  than  the  'gators." 

The  building  of  Ecuador's  first  railroad, 
from  the  port  of  Guayaquil,  across  a  range 
of  the  Andes,  up  the  plateau  to  the  ancient 
capital  of  Quito,  brought  Jim  and  me  to 
this  South  American  republic  a  little  more 
than  a  year  ago.  Jim  was  an  engineer  by 
statement,  and  his  uncle  who  was  chair- 
man of  the  directors  of  the  daring  road, 
sent  Jim  to  Ecuador  to  contemplate  the 
great  thing  for  the  good  of  his  lazy  soul.  I 
went  down  to  investigate  the  industrial 
possibilities  which  the  road  might  develop 
and  so  to  write  a  book  of  comfort  for 
anxious  stockholders.  Jim  had  preferred 
to  hike  up  country  with  me,  loving  adven- 
ture more  than  railroad  construction,  and 
had  ridden  his  brown  mule  behind  my 
white  one  for  many  hundreds  of  miles  be- 


fore we  had  turned  back  and  had  come 
down  the  plateau  again  to  the  city  of 
Riobamba,  en  route  to  the  construction 
camps  below  the  Palmira  Pass. 

At  the  hospitable  home  of  old  Don 
Domingo  Cordovez,  at  Riobamba,  we  planned 
our  great  'gator  hunt  on  the  upper 
reaches  of  the  Guayas  River.  The  Guayas 
is  a  large  river,  the  second  largest  on  the 
Pacific  side  of  North  or  South  America.  It 
makes  a  couple  of  hundred  miles  of  slant 
south  west  from  the  burly  back  of  Chim- 
borazo,  the  frozen  volcano  which  towers 
above  Riobamba.  At  the  port  of  Guayaquil, 
sixty  miles  above  its  mouth,  the  Guayas  is 
practically  an  estuary  of  the  sea.  At  the 
city  of  Babahoyo,  fifty  miles  above  Guaya- 
quil, the  tide  is  slightly  felt.  But  we 
planned  to  creep  off  the  Andes  by  a  certain 
faint  trail  that  led  back  of  Chimborazo  and 
to  come  down  into  the  jungle  near  the  head- 
waters of  the  Guayas,  paddling  in  a  Canoe 
down  to  Babahoyo.  Babahoyo  was  the  shipping 
point  for  most  of  the  imports  which  got  up 
country  by  a  horrible  trail  and  was  con- 
nected with  Guayaquil  by  a  line  of  ancient 
river  steamers.  For  many  miles  above 
Babahoyo  the  jungle  had  been  cleared  a 
couple  of  miles  back  from  the  banks  of  the 
Guayas.  Here  we  were  to  find  the  largest 
cacao  estates  in  the  world — and  the  giant 
'gators.  Miles  above  the  last  cacao  estate 
Don  Domingo  owned  an  immense  tract  of 
jungle,  six  hundred  square  miles,  more  or 
less.  It  was  uncleared,  unplanted  and  unin- 
habited, save  by  a  few  Indians,  who 
collected  rubber  and  quinine  bark  which 
they  brought  to  Don  Domingo's  overseer 
at  a  camp  called  La  Delecia.  Recently, 
however,  his  son,  Don  Cesar,  returned  from 
years  spent  in  London  and  Paris,  had 
settled  in  the  jungle  at  the  headwaters  of 
the  Guayas  and  had  begun  to  clear  the 
land  for  cacao,  much  oi  which,  planted  by 
the  monkeys,  already  grew  there  wild.    Don 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZISE 


345 


still  gleamed  on  the 


Domingo  said  that  Don  Cesar  had  an  iron 
canoe,  thirty-one  feet  long,  in  which  he 
took  down  rubber  to  Babahoyo  and 
brought  back  his  supplies.  Jim  was  really 
due  at  the  construction  camps,  but  Don 
Domingo  mentioned  the  enormous  alliga- 
tors. That  settled  Jim,  who  was  the  fond- 
est of  hunting  of  any  rotten  shot  I  know. 

"It  is  a  duty  man  owes  to  mankind," 
said  Jim,  "to  rid  the  earth  of  reptiles.  I 
sacrifice  my  profession  to  my  sense  of  duty 
and  go  with  you." 

Rafael,  a  half-breed  retainer  of  Don 
Domingo,  qualified  as  guide  through,  past 
experience  as  a  quinine  hunter.  The  Don 
kindly  beat  up  this  cholo  for  us  in  the  patio 
just  before  we  set  out,  informing  us  thought- 
fully that  he  did  not  think  it  would  be 
necessary  to  lick  him  again  until  we  had  been 
out  a  couple  of  days.  We  expected  to  make 
a  shepherd's  hut,  on  the  far  side  of  the 
great  plain,  that  night ;  to  sleep  the  next  night 
at  La  Delecia,  the  rubber  camp ;  and  to  reach 
Don  Cesar's  clearing  on  the  Guayas  the  third 
night.  We  carried  two  Marlin  30-30  rifles 
and  heavy  revolvers,  (Smith  and  Wesson  38 
Specials),  while  Rafael  had  a  rusty  double 
muzzle-loader  of  Belgian  make. 

We    started    while    the    moon    still    gleamed 


on  the  snows  of  Chimborazo ;  for  our  first 
day's  ride  was  to  be  an  exceedingly  severe 
one  of  seventy  miles.  We  climbed  from  the 
bowl  of  Riobamba  to  the  grassy  plain,  the 
paramo,  below  the  eastern  buttress  of  Chim- 
borazo. We  were  not  many  miles  south  of 
the  "line",  but,  at  that  altitude,  the  wind  blew 
cold.  Shepherds  were  crouching  in  the  tall 
coarse  grass  of  the  paramo.  Along  the  Baba- 
hoyo trail,  which  we  shortly  crossed,  mule- 
teers plodded,  shouting  through  muffled 
ponchos  at  shivering  burros.  Twenty  Indians 
passed  us,  staggering  under  a  platform  on 
wliich  they  were  carrying  a  piece  of  mill 
machinery  to  Otovalo  in  the  north. 

Chimborazo's  peak  loomed  closer.  We  could 
see  pinnacles  of  black  rock  thrusting  out  of  the 
snow,  ravines  full  of  drifts  and  the  ragged 
path  of  avalanches.  Clouds  crept  round  and 
round  the  peak  as  if  fascinated  by  its  stare. 
Below  us,  too,  clouds  were  banked;  for  the 
paramo  across  which  we  were  now  riding  was 
as  high  as  the  top  of  Mt.  Blanc. 

By  and  by  we  came  higher  than  even  the 
tough  paramo  grass  could  grow.  We  rode 
over  a  great  desolation,  a  weary  land,  where 
nothing  grew  but  a  gray  lichen  which  clung 
to  the  boulders  that  Chimborazo  had  spit  out 
in  the  ancient  days  of  its  wrath.    The  buzzards 


346 


WESTERN  FIELD 


had  gone.  In  their  places  we  saw  an  occa- 
sional condor, — the  bird  of  lofty  altitudes.  We 
met  no  men,  but  we  saw  the  graves  of  men, 
— cairns  of  stones  heaped  beside  the  faint  trail, 
where  were  buried  unfortunate  muleteers  who 
had  been  caught  in  the  sudden  and  fierce  bliz- 
zards which  howl  off  the  snow  fields,  at  the 
edge  of  which  our  faint  trail  ran.     Our  mules 


panted  as  if  in  agony.  A  great  distress  came 
upon  me,  like  to  seasickness.  I  was  attacked 
by  a  violent  nausea  and  my  heart  fluttered; 
but  1  dared  not  dismount.  Jim,  who  was 
miserably  seasick  on  the  voyage  to  Colon, 
was  as  cocky  as  a  sparrow  at  this  altitude. 
He  talked  carelessly  about  coming  back  for 
a  stroll  up  Chimborazo — the  mountain  which 
Humboldt  tried  in  vain  to  climb  after  weeks 
of  preparation.  A  blinding  squall  of  snow 
rushed  down  on  us.  Fortunately,  we  were 
near  a  stone  hut  which  the  government  had 
built  as  a  refuge  for  travellers. 

The  moon  had  risen  and  was  shining  with 
wonderful  radiance  when,  at  last,  we  had 
plodded  over  this  weird  plain,  the  one  frozen 
spot  on  the  equator.  We  reined  up  at  the 
top  of  a  sheer  cliff.  The  gulf  below  us  was 
full  of  clouds,  so  soft,  so  fleecy  in  the  moon- 
light that  it  looked  as  if  we  could  safely 
leap  down  into  them.  Rafael  urged  his  puffing 
mule  between  two  enormous  chunks  of  lava 
unto  the  upper  edge  of  a  shelf  that  slanted 
steeply   into   the   clouds   below. 

"Is  suicide  a  sin.  Jim?"  I  asked. 

"I'm  the  roaring,  ramping  lion  of  Scot- 
land," Jim  shouted,  "and  no  mere  greaser 
scares  me."  He  spurred  his  mule  after 
Rafael,  and  I  slid  my  white  mule  behind  him. 
The  trail  was  only  three  feet  wide.  In  places 
it  was  cut  out  of  solid  rock,  so  that  we 
seemed  to  be  riding  on  a  narrow  gallery. 
Soon  we  were  among  the  clouds,  which 
drenched  us  with  ice  water.  They  blotted 
out  the  moon.  By  and  by  we  came  down  to 
another  paramo.  Our  stirrups  brushed  through 
dripping  grass.  The  wind  bit  us  again  as  we 
came  out  from  the  shelter  of  the  cliff.  It 
was  bitterly  cold.  We  crossed  paramos  and 
edged  down  cliffs  to  other  grass  lands  in  a 
series  of  giant  steps.  Fantastic  rocks  loomed 
hugely  through  the  clouds  which  veiled  all 
things  and  drenched  all  things.  We  knew  our 
guide  had  lost  his  way,  and  and  we  cursed 
him  fearfully,  I  in  broken  Spanish,  Jim  in 
Gaelic,  which,  for  some  mysterious  reason, 
he  always  used  to  foreigners. 

At  last  we  came  to  the  shepherds'  hut  where 
some  kindly  Indians  comforted  us  with 
chocolate  boiled  in  brandy.  We  slept  there 
on  a  narrow  platform  of  bamboo,  hugging 
each  other  for  warmth ;  for  the  thatch  of  the 
hut  was  full  of  holes  through  which  the  wind 
blew.  The  Indians  gave  us  a  couple  of  sheep- 
skins to  sleep  on,  but  experience  had  taught 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


347 


us  to  examine  them  carefully  by  the  light  of 
a  candle  which  we  carried  for  such  purposes. 
Jim,  in  great  disgust  threw  the  skins  onto  the 
dirt  floor  and  slept  with  his  hat  on. 

There  was  a  couple  of  inches  of  snow 
on  this  paramo  when  we  made  our  start  the 
next  morning.  Six  hours  later,  we  entered  the 
upper  slopes  of  a  tropical  jungle,  clawing  off 
our  ponchos  and  batting  mosquitoes.  The 
trail  still  led  straight  down.  It  was  now  full 
of  "camellones"  which  added  greatly  to  its 
dangers  and  diffculties.  For  centuries,  the 
cautious  mules  had  stepped  exact  strides  until 
they  had  worn  holes  a  couple  of  feet  deep. 
Tropical  rains,  which  fell  incessantly  as  the 
warm  trade  winds  of  the  Pacific  met  the  chilly 
mountains,  had  kept  these  holes  full  of  mud 
and  water.  The  resemblance  of  the  ridges 
between  them  to  the  humps  of  camels  had 
given  them  their  name.  Our  guide  had  left 
his  mule  with  the  shepherds.  He  stepped 
swiftly  from  hump  to  hump,  while  our  mules 
floundered  in  the  holes.  We  were  now  in  a 
jungle  wilderness,  with  no  village  for 
hundreds  of  square  miles  and  only  the 
occasional  hut  of  a  rubber  hunter. 

After  our  months  in  the  treeless  plains  of 
the     Andes,     the     forests     seemed     singularly 


beautiful.  It  was  a  place  of  ten  foot  leaves, 
of  giant  ferns,  of  bamboo  underbrush,  of 
creepers  that  hung  like  cables  from  enormous 
trees,  whose  trunks  were  buttressed  with  im- 
mense roots.  It  was  a  place  of  brilliant  colors, 
garish  flowers,  rank  odors.  The  jungle  teemed 
with  animal  life,  but,  so  thick  was  it,  we 
seldom  saw  any  living  thing.  It  was  up- 
roarious with  discordant  sounds ;  monkeys 
chattered,  parrots  screamed,  wood  ducks 
fluttered.  Once  we  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
tawny  spots  of  a  jaguar,  tigre  Rafael  called 
it  in  a  whisper.  Every  flower  had  a  gay 
color  and  a  rank  odor.  Every  bird  had  a 
brilliant  plumage  and  shrieked.  In  gulches 
we  came  upon  fast,  clear  streams,  with  fish 
jumping  in  -the  pools.  At  noon  we  lunched  on 
tinned  stuff  at  the  foot  of  a  slender  water- 
fall that  came  down  the  mountains  six 
hundred  feet  in  a  couple  of  leaps.  So  densely 
grew  the  tropical  forests  that  enormous  trees 
bathed  their  boughs  in  this  shower  bath.  The 
usual  afternoon  downpour  came  suddenly, 
drenching  us  and  overflowing  the  camellones 
till  our  mules  could  flounder  only  a  few 
yards  and  then  must  rest.  The  sun  burst 
out  as  we  sweltered  in  our  muddy  ponchos. 
The  jungle  steamed.    It  smelt  of  strange,  damp 


came  to  the  shepherd's  hut" 


348 


WESTERS  FIELD 


odors.     From    bamboo    thickets    we    brushed 
swarms  of  tlies  and  mosquitoes  which  pursued 

tis  relentlessly. 

"I.osh,  but  you  have  a  beastly  temper,"  said 
Jim,  crossly.  I  had  not  spoken  a  word  for  an 
hour,  only  batted  and   scratched. 

That  night  we  came  to  "La  Delecia",  Don 
Domingo's  rubber  camp.  Here  we  found  a 
surprisingly  neat  cottage.  A  peremptory 
letter  from  the  old  Don,  apparently  quite 
unnecessary,  brought  us  respectful  homage. 
Our  guide,  who  had  lagged  behind,  came  stag- 


this  being  the  first  news  Don  Cesar  had  of 
our  approach.  Our  guide  was  too  spent  to 
continue,  but  we  decided  that  we  could  trail 
the  messengers  and  started  alone.  We  got 
fearfully  nervous,  however,  when  the  trail 
appeared  to  be  blotted  out  by  the  jungle. 
The  jungle  seemed  sweeping  in  on  us  with 
the  speed  of  a  prairie  fire.  It  meant  a  death  by 
tropical  torture  if  we  strayed  from  that  vague 
path.  The  only  glimpse  of  the  sky  we  got  in 
that  gloomy  ride  was  when  the  trail  led 
through  groves  of  wild  banana  palms.    Troops 


Our  Iron  Canoe,  31   Feet  Long 


gering  in  an  hour  later,  nearly  dead  with  fever. 
He  fainted  as  he  wobbled  up  the  steps.  Jim 
gave  him  a  handful  of  big  silver  pesos  when 
Rafael  came  around  after  his  faint.  "These 
sods  are  as  game  as  a  Highlander",  he  said, 
which  was  the  only  time  I  ever  heard  him 
speak  respectfully  of  an  Indian. 

It  was  now  only  one  day's  ride  to  Don 
Cesar's  clearing  at  "La  Mercedes".  (Most 
planters  name  their  places  after  their  wives.) 
At  daylight  a  couple  of  Indians  were  sent  in 
advance,  to  hack  out  the  trail  with  machetes 
and  to  carry  a  letter  saying  we  were  coming, 


of  angry  monkeys  chased  us  out  of  those 
groves,  throwing  everything  at  us  that  they 
could  lay  hand  to.  I  shot  one  big  chap,  but  he 
died  so  like  a  human  being  that  it  sickened 
us   both   of   that   "sport". 

"I'd  as  soon  shoot  a  little  Mick",  said  Jim, 
reproachfully. 

Just  as  the  quick  night  of  the  tropics  came, 
we  fairly  burst  out  of  the  jungle  into  a  clear- 
ing where  Don  Cesar  stood  on  the  ladder  of  a 
bamboo  hut  to  welcome  us  in  perfect  English. 
He  had  brought  a  cook  from  Paris.  He  had 
Apollonaris  and  French  wine.     He  took  us  to 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


349 


a  clear,  cqoI  stream,  the  Azumbi,  where  we 
washed  our  dirt  and  prickly  heat  away  in  a 
rapid  which  had  a  sandy  bottom  and  which 
emptied  into  a  clear,  deep  pool.  Jim,  who 
boasted  that  he  had  swum  some  Scotch  river 
"in  spate",  had  the  breath  knocked  out  of 
his  obstinate  body  a  dozen  times  before  he 
gave  up  and  wallowed  exhausted  in  the  pool 
at  the  bottom  of  the  rapids,  where  fishes 
nosed  him  like  friendly  dogs.  That  night  we 
slept  in  clean  hammocks  under  toldos,  listen- 
ing with  appreciative  grins  to  Don  Cesar's 
tales  of  his  amours  in  Paris. 

The  next  morning  we  boarded  an  iron 
canoe,  thirty-one  feet  long,  in  which  we  were 
to  be  paddled  and  poled  to  Babahoyo.  The 
canoe  was  loaded  so  heavily  with  bundles  of 
rubber  that  we  had  to  tie  balsa  logs,  as 
buoyant  as  cork,  along  the  sides  to  keep  it 
afloat.  Monkey-tail  leaves  were  thatched  in 
a  low  curve  over  the  stern  to  make  a  cabin 
just  big'  enough  for  the  three  of  us  to  stretch 
our  blankets  over  the  rubber.  Jose,  a  big 
half-breed,  handled  the  steering  paddle  behind 
the  cabin,  while  two  other  cholos,  Miguel  and 
Manuel,  tramped  with  poles'  along  a  board 
which  was  laid  over  the  rubber  for  the  greater 
length  of  the  canoe.  The  brown  faces  of  our 
boatmen  had  more  scars  than  you  could  find 
at  Heidelburg,  as  they  were  both  famous 
machete  fighters. 

Jim  and  I  got  into  pajamas.  Incidentally, 
Jim  burned  all  the  skin  off  his  feet  and  could 
not  toddle  for  a  week  after  we  got  to  Guaya- 
quil. While  at  Babahoyo  the  river  was  half 
a  mile  wide  and  as  muddy  as  the  Missouri, 
it  was  only  a  hundred  feet  wide  and  was  as 
clear  as  a  mountain  brook  at  "La  Mercedes". 
It  was  December,  the  end  of  the  less-wet 
season.  Our  canoe  drew  two  feet  of  water  and 
frequently  grounded  in  the  swift  shallows. 
The  moment  we  struck,  Jose  would  curse 
loudly,  and  Manuel  and  Miguel  would  jump 
overboard  to  drag  the  canoe.  The  water  fairly 
boiled  about  them,  but  they  clung  to  the 
craft.  It  was  easy  to  see  why  there  were  no 
alligators  here,  but  Jim,  fumbling  with  his 
30-30,  grumbled  as  if  he  had  been  cheated. 

"Please  to  wait,  honorable  sir,"  Don  Cesar 
would  say,  gently.  "Within  the  second  hour, 
you   shall   see  many  alligators   of  great  size." 

Jim  crawled  under  the  thatch  and  went  to 
sleep.  A  man  sleeps  much  and  easily  in  the 
tropics.  With  the  poles  and  the  current  we 
went  swiftly  between  the  banks  of  the  jungle. 


The  banks  were  noisy  with  the  sounds  which 
we  had  heard  during  our  ride.  Fish  jumped 
in  the  pools.  They  were  large  fish  and  the> 
jumped  gamily.  About  noon  we  suddenly 
came  upon  our  game. 

Jim,  waking  up  as  Jose  had  shouted  his 
men  over  the  side,  had  scrambled  out  with  a 
whoop  and  had  joined  the  cholos  in  the  water. 
The  water  was  so  comfortable  that  he  had 
struck  out  and  swam  beside  the  boat,  the  cur- 
rent taking  him  down  swiftly.  Soon  I  had 
joined  him.  We  were  in  and  out  the  water 
all  the  morning.  At  last  we  came  to  a  place 
in  the  river  where  the  water  ran  swiftly  over 
shallows  which  was  about  three  feet  deep. 
Jim  slipped  overboard  again  and  struck  out 
ahead  of  the  canoe.  I  swam  alongside.  The 
water  swooped  down  into  a  great  black  pool, 
shadowed  by  enormous  trees.  Don  Cesar 
napped  in  the  cabin.  As  we  approached  the 
pool,  Jose  began  telling  me  something 
earnestly.  Miguel  chipped  in  with  excited 
gestures,  while  Manuel,  who  was  something  of 
a  wag,  grinned  appreciatively.  But  the  sound 
of  running  water  was  loud  in  my  ears.  Be- 
sides, cholo  Spanish  is  as  hard  to  understand 
as  darky  English. 

Suddenly,  Jim,  fifty  feet  in  front  of  the 
canoe,  gave  a  yell  of  anguish.  He  dropped 
his  feet  and  tried  to  run  back  to  us  against 
the  current.  He  lost  his  footing,  disappeared 
with  a  gurgling  groan  but  came  up  close  as 
the  canoe  shot  down  to  him.  I  think  he 
scrambled  along  the  bottom.  "Oh,  the  sods !" 
he  yelled.  "  'Gators !  'Gators  as  big  as  gun 
boats!  Every  bloody  one  of  them  grabbing 
for  me !  Lemme  in  that  boat !  Get  aboard, 
mon,  or  you  are  a  dead  one.  Where's  my 
rifle?     God!  what  'gators!" 

I  already  had  hold  of  the  boat  and 
scrambled  on  board,  with  the  soles  of  my  feet 
itching  from  fright.  Jim  came  over  the  side 
like  a  gaffed  fish.  He  tumbled  under  the 
hatch  to  get  his  rifle,  planting  one  wet  foot 
in  Don  Cesar's  face.  Don  Cesar  woke  up 
politely  and  looked  forth. 

"Exactly,"  he  murmured.  "Here  are  a  few. 
They  get  larger  when  the  holes  get  deeper.  I 
would  not  shoot  here,  Don  Jim". 

But  Jim  was  already  blazing  from  under  the 
thatch.  To  hear  that  gun  sputter  you  would 
have  thought  the  headhunters  were  rushing  us. 
The  dark  water  was  swarming  with  'gators. 
A  dozen  lay  sunning  themselves  on  the  mud- 
banks  below  the  edge  of  the  jungle.    A  dozen 


350 


n  /•:\//-A'.v  run  i) 


others  were  pushing  tluir  ugly  snouts  across 
the  placid  pool.  There  was  something  weird 
about  the  silent  smoothness  with  which  these 
scaly,  knotted  beads,  lo«  and  rakish,  came 
across  the  current  with  no  more  ripple  than 
a  muskrat  makes.  They  were  all  about  us. 
Even  Jim  could  not  miss  a  shot  at  such  large 
targets  and  at  such  short  range;  for  the  pool 
was  not  more  than  thirty  yards  across  and  the 
heads  of  the  'gators  were  five  feet  long.  As 
he  fired,  the  'gator  he  blazed  at  lurched  up 
from  the  bank  and  wallowed  into  the  water; 
or  sank  without  a  ripple  when  they  were 
already  swimming.  Usually  they  moved 
sedately,  but  one  or  two  of  them,  stung  by  a 
bullet,  splashed  a  bit.  The  sight  fascinated 
me  so  much  with  the  uncanniness  of  it  that 
1  made  no  effort  to  get  my  own  rifle.  At 
the  sound  of  the  shooting,  and  at  the  approach 
of  the  canoe,  the  'gators  on  the  bars  and  banks 
heaved  themselves  up  and  moved  into  the 
water  like  ferry  boats  leaving  a  slip. 

"If  you  will  shoot  at  these  lesser  animals," 
said  Don  Cesar,  listlessly,  "shoot  at  those  on 
the  bank.  If  you  kill  them  in  the  water,  they 
die  at  the  bottom.  Though",  he  added,  "they 
will  catch  up  with  us  later." 

"There  was  not  a  'gator  under  ten  feet,"  de- 
clared Jim,  as  we  glided  out  of  the  pool  into 
swift  water. 

"But  they  grow  twenty  feet  long  and  more," 
said  the  Don.  "You  will  see  when  the  river 
gets  larger.    There  is  a  large  pool  coming." 

I  got  my  rifle  and  crowded  cartridges  into 
the  magazine.  "Twenty  centavos  apiece  in  this 
country,"  said  Don  Cesar,  looking  regretfully 
at  the  empty  shells  which  glistened  about 
Jim's  feet. 

"To  waste  them  on  'gators,"  Miguel  added, 
scornfully.     "Oh.  Mother  of  God!" 

Jim  was  boiling  with  excitement  as  he 
crammed  cartridges  into  his  Marlin.  "Shoot 
them  under  their  foreleg,  you  duffer,"  he 
whispered.  "Hit  them  in  their  eyes.  Their 
scales  turn  the  bullets." 

"But  not  at  all,"  interposed  Don  Cesar.  "The 
hides  of  even  the  greatest  'gator  do  not  turn 
the  bullets  from  such  rifles  as  yours.  It  is  a 
-  superstition  merely.  Not  even  the  bullets 
from  such  an  excellent  revolver  as  that  of  Don 
Andres.  You  have  but  to  shoot  them  in  the 
head  anywhere." 

In  ten  minutes  we  dropped  into  the  second 
pool,  larger  and  deeper  than  the  one  that  had 
so    excited    us.      This    pool,    too,    was    fairly 


alive  with  the  big  reptiles.  Being  less  excited, 
we  tired  at  the  largest  of  those  on  the  bank. 
Picking  out  a  monster  that  lay  sleeping  in  the 
sun  on  a  bar  about  thirty  yards  down  the  pool, 
I  drilled  his  head  a  couple  of  inches  back  of 
his  eye.  The  steel-jacketed  bullet  not  only 
penetrated  the  scales,  but  it  also  cut  through 
the  thick  skull  as  if  the  bone  were  cheese.  He 
was  sleeping  in  the  sun  with  his  mouth  gap- 
ing enormously.  They  all  seemed  to  sleep  that 
way ;  Don  Cesar  said  that  the  flies  and  gnats 
swarmed  into  that  trap  and  gave  the  'gator 
a  light  snack  when  he  awoke.  When  the 
bullet  struck  him,  the  'gator  threw  back  his 
head,  gave  ?.  deep,  bellowing  cough  and 
brought  his  jaws  together  with  a  loud  champ. 
He  struggled  desperately  to  get  into  deep 
water,  but  he  died  in  the  shallows.  With 
loud  shouts  the  cholos  swung  the  canoe  onto 
the  bar.  Meanwhile,  Jim  was  pumping  his 
rifle  at  the  other  big  brutes  which  were  lum- 
bering lazily  into  the  water  on  both  sides  of 
the  pool.  He  hit  one  every  shot,  as  was 
evinced  by  their  convulsive  struggles,  but  he 
failed  to  stop  one.  The  'gator  which  lay 
dead  in  a  few  inches  of  water  measured  six- 
teen feet  from  snout  to  tail. 

"I  want  some  of  his  teeth,"  declared  Jim. 

"All  right,  Doc,"  said  I.  handing  him 
Manuel's  machete.  "Here's  your  forceps." 
Don  Cesar  picked  up  a  revolver  and  shot  twice 
into  the  'gator's  head. 

"One  sweep  of  his  tail,"  said  Don  Cesar, 
gravely,  "and  he  breaks  your  two  legs." 

Jim  hacked  away,  breaking  the  teeth,  till 
Jose  took  the  machete  from  him  and  deftly 
cut  him  out  a  strip  of  yellow  fangs. 

All  the  rest  of  that  day  we  were  passing 
'gator  holes.  Indeed,  we  were  seldom  out  of 
sight  of  the  slimy  monsters.  Jim  got  one 
that  was  fourteen  feet  long  and  was  crazy  to 
take  the  skin;  but  Don  Cesar  vetoed  that 
proposition  on  the  score  of  the  weather. 

"He  will  make  one  grand  odor  shortly,"  de- 
clared the  Don.  The  odor  of  a  living  alli- 
gator was  enough  to  make  me  side  with  Don 
Cesar.  They  smell  worse  than  rattlesnakes. 
While  Jim  was  killing  his  big  one,  I  shot 
rapidly  at  three  others,  stopping  two  of  them. 
There  was  no  reason  why  a  moderately  good 
shot  could  not  kill  twenty  an  hour  on  the 
Guayas  and  not  bother  with  those  under  a 
dozen  feet  in  length.  Anywhere  along  the 
head,  level  with  the  eyes,  did  the  trick.  There 
was  no  difficulty  in  shooting  them  under  the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


351. 


foreleg  according  to  tradition ;  for  a  'gator 
heaves  himself  high  when  he  waddles  off  a 
hank,  giving  an  expansive  view  of  his  yellow 
bosom.  But  we  invariably  found  that  a  'gator 
shot  "in  the  yellow"  got  away,  no  matter  if 
he  was  shot  through  the  heart.  Neither  was 
it  any  use  to  shoot  them  when  they  were 
swimming.  They  merely  sank.  A  shot  placed 
back  of  the  eye,  however,  seemed  to  paralyze 
them.  But  we  took  the  precaution  to  shoot 
them  again  with  a  revolver  at  close  range  be- 
fore we  began  our  dentistry. 
We  shortly  grew  so  weary  of  our  easy  rifle" 


but  he  died  without  stirring.  Don  Cesar  urged 
me  to  shoot  him  again,  as  he  could  hardly  be- 
lieve one  revolver  shot  could  so  quickly  have 
killed  the  monster.  It  was  a  big  chap,  over 
eighteen  feet  long. 

The  hot  noon  had  come.  We  were  now 
gliding  between  glossy  groves  of  cacao.  Now 
and  then  we  passed  native  huts  of  split 
bamboo,  with  graceful  cocoanut  palms  and 
the  shorter  banana  palms  behind  them. 
These  huts  were  usually  situated  at  fords. 
The  alligators  were  numerous  at  these  fords, 
but  no  one   seemed  to  mind   them.     We   saw 


$^ft&k&l 


■*  m,* 


jjr  . 


' 


*       shot  twice  into  the  'gator's  head" 


practice  that  we  used  only  revolvers  at  long 
range.  I  killed  the  biggest  'gator  we  got  in 
this  way.  We  dropped  down  on  him  while 
he  was  sleeping  on  a  bar,  his  mouth  wide  open 
as  usual.  I  cut  down  on  him  with  my  re- 
volver when  we  were  about  twenty  yards 
away,  aiming  at  his  eye.  The  bullet  entered 
his  skull  half  an  inch  below  the  eye.  So  sud- 
denly did  that  'gator  die  that  he  did  not 
bother  even  to  close  his  mouth.  We  could 
see  the  red  blood  streaming  into  the  yellow 
cavern  of  his  throat.  After  a  couple  of  min- 
utes,  his    jaws   came   together   with    a   clump, 


women  washing  clothes  in  the  river,  and 
cattle  grazed  knee  deep  in  the  cane  brakes 
beside  the  bank.  Buzzard  and  herons  stood 
solemnly  on  the  bars,  and  flocks  of  birds, 
brilliantly  red,  pecked  about  them.  Ducks 
flew  low,  and  fish  splashed  up  the  rapids. 
Canoes,  piled  high  with  bananas,  paddled  by 
our  deeper  craft.  The  boatmen  cried  joy- 
ously to  each  other. 

"May  the  Holy  Sacrament  be  ever  raised 
to  your  lips,  Sehor,"  they  shouted  at  us. 

"And  to  yours,  also,"  Don  Cesar  answered 
politely. 


352 


ERN  FIELD 


Thatched  houseboats,  in  which  lived  the 
cacao  gatherers,  moving  up  and  down  from 
plantation  to  plantation  as  crops  were  to  be 
harvested,  were  tied  to  the  banks.  We  found 
fish  traps  before  the  huts,  made  of  bamboo 
driven  into  the  mud  at  the  edge  of  pools. 
Once  we  came  upon  a  'gator  crunching  the 
stake's  of  a  trap  to  get  at  the  fish  which  were 
splashing  inside.  So  busy  was  this  'gator  that 
he  let  us  drift  within  ten  feet  of  him.  Jim 
emptied  his  revolver  into  the  'gator.  "Take 
that,  you  bally  poacher,"  he  yelled.  Jim  has 
an  estate  in  Scotland  which  has  a  couple  of 
pheasants  on  it. 


among  the  solidly  built  adobes  of  the  treeless 
mountains.    At  Ventanas  we  saw  a  number  of 

dead  alligators  drifting  by  cm  their  backs,  with 
buzzards  cruising  on  their  yellow  bellies.  Our 
boatmen  jeered  at  them. 

"I  told  you,"  remarked  Don  Cesar.  "They 
have  died  at  the  bottom  of  the  river,  and  the 
current  has  swept  them  along." 

That  afternoon  we  paddled  on,  the  river  be- 
ing now  too  deep  for  the  poles.  We  slept 
under  the  thatch,  letting  hundreds  of  'gators 
pass  unnoticed.  It  took  a  monster  to  draw 
our  tire,  for  cartridges  were  getting  low,  and 
no  man  wants  to  have  his  revolver  empty  in 


'He  let  us  drift  within  ten  feet  of  him" 


The  cacao  trees  fringed  the  bank  in  un- 
broken ranks  for  miles.  "Chocolate  Creek" 
we  named  the  river.  At  intervals  a  planter's 
residence  appeared  on  a  high  bank,  a  pretty 
little  house  of  Moorish  architecture.  The 
cacao  planter  is  the  wealthiest  of  farmers, 
some  of  them  living  in  Paris  with  the  income 
of  princes.  Stop  at  the  poorest  cacao  hacienda, 
and  you  will  be  given  champagne  which  cost 
the  planter  twenty  dollars  a  bottle  in  gold. 

We  tied  up  for  lunch  at  the  village  of  Ven- 
tanas, a  river  town  which  thrives  on  cacao 
trade.  Its  bamboo  houses  and  its  tropical 
foliage   looked   odd   to   us   after    our   months 


Ecuador.  Jim  became  so  scornful  of  the  alli- 
gators that  he  went  overboard  again  when 
the  river  ran  fast,  and  I  followed  him.  The 
water  was  still  clear,  and  the  heat  was  great. 
We  both  scrambled  on  board  again  when  we 
reached  the  pools,  however.  There  is  some- 
thing very  like  a  nightmare  when  you  see 
'gators  pushing  their  long  snouts  towards 
you.  / 

The  iguanas  roused  our  enthusiasm,  how- 
ever. We  passed  whole  villages  of  these 
giant  lizards.  Colonies  of  them  had  holes  in 
sandy  banks.  They  do  much  damage  to  the 
cacao   crop.      Some   of   them   were   fully    four 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


353 


feet  long,  and  they  looked  hideously  ugly 
when  they  expanded  the  ruffles  which  fringe 
their  faces.  Their  terrifying  appearance  is 
their  only  defence  against  their  foes;  for  they 
are  quite  harmless.  We  saw  many  of  them, 
but  we  succeeded  in  potting  only  two.  They 
were  as  spry  as  prairie  dogs,  and  the  canoe 
ran  swiftly  by  them.  The  flesh  of  the  iguanas 
is  considered  a  dainty  dish.  Don  Cesar  said 
the  meat  was  as  palatable  as  chicken,  but  Jim 
was  so  sickened  by  their  appearance  that  he 
would  not  allow  Jose  to  take  on  board  the 
two  we  hit. 

"They  fair  turn  my  delicate  stomach,"  pro- 
tested the  Highlander.  "I  wasn't  brought  up 
to  relish  lizards.  Hump  yourself,  you  sods !" 
And  the  "sods"  took  to  their  paddles  again 
at  a  sharp  word  from  Don  Cesar.  Jim  took  a 
pull  at  his  flask  to  wash  the  taste  out  of  his 
mouth. 

At   dark   we   came   to   the   city   of   Carocal, 


lazily  prosperous,  with  some  attempt  to  dec- 
orate the  river  bank  in  imitation  of  the  Male- 
con  at  Guayaquil.  Steamboats  from  Guaya- 
quil come  up  as  far  as  Carocal  in  the  rainy 
season  when  the  river  is  high.  We  slept  in 
the  casa  of  a  store-keeping  friend  of  Don 
Cesar  and  had  tea  for  the  first  time  in  six 
months.  The  next  day  we  made  an  early  start 
in  the  canoe,  meaning  to  make  Babahoyo  that 
night.  We  saw  many  'gators  during  the  day, 
but  there  were  fewer  of  them  as  the  river 
deepened  and  broadened.  During  the  rainy 
season,  the  water  comes  under  the  stilted 
houses  at  Babahoyo,  and  the  'gators  come  with 
the  water  to  act  as  scavengers.  No  one  ap- 
pears to  mind  them.  That  night,  however, 
when  we  slept  on  a  raft  hotel,  moored  to  the 
levee  at  Babahoyo,  Jim  complained  that  he 
could  not  sleep  for  the  noise-  which  the  'gators 
made  scratching  their  backs  on  the  logs  be- 
neath his  hammock. 


J.   Morris,  J.   P.,  and  a  Big  Buck  Killed 
Peak,  September  14,  1907 


A  CHRISTMAS 
IN  THE  SIXTIES 


wwwm)  G.e»o&&MftN 


ROM  what  I  can  see,  you  boys 
are  purty  interested  in  huntin', 
and  I  suppose  when  one  of 
these  little  blue  quail  with 
the  pom-poms  on  his  head 
falls  before  the  crack  of  your 
gun,  you  sort  o'  feel  good 
all  over  and  that  one  bird 
makes  the  trip  seem  like  it's 
worth  while.  Ain't  that  so? 
But  I'll  bet  there  ain't  a  one  o'  you  ever 
went  out  huntin'  with  the  knowledge  that 
the  Christmas  dinner  of  your  good  wife 
and  two  kids  depended  on  your  findin' 
something  and  killin'  it  when  you  did  find 
it.  When  you  get  in  a  fix  like  that,  you 
will  certain  take  more  interest  in  huntin' 
than  you  thought  was  possible. 

"Not  long  after  the  War  I  got  discon- 
tented in  Pennsylvany  and  packed  up  and 
moved  out  to  Iowa.  I  got  hold  of  a  quarter 
section  of  good  prairie  land  about  twenty 
miles  from  the  Mississippi  and  settled 
down  to  make  a  new  home  for  us.  They 
was  four  of  us,  me,  my  wife, — she's  gone 
now — and  our  two  kids,  a  boy  of  eight 
and  girl  of  six.  They've  got  full  grown 
children  of  their  own  now  but  they  always 
seem  to  me  just  as  they  were  that  first 
lonesome  year  out  in  Iowa — I  s'pose 
because  they  and  the  wife  were  about  all 
the  company  I  had. 

''It  was  mighty  lonesome  round  there: 
mebbe  a  farmer  every  ten  miles  or  so, 
and  we  were  all  too  busy  to  do  much 
visitin'.  livin'  as  we  did  so  far  apart. 
Things   didn't   go   very   well   the   first   year; 


the  varmints  got  all  our  chickens  and  ducks 
we  brought  out  from  Pennsylvany  and  I 
was  too  busy  puttin'  in  my  crops,  after  I 
got  the  land  broken  up  the  first  spring, 
to  put  in  any  vegetables,  so  we  didn't 
have  any  great  shucks  along  the  eatin'  line. 
Come  Fall,  the  prairie  chicken  began  to 
attract  my  notice  though  I'd  seen  them  all 
through  the  summer,  but  when  September 
rolled  around  they  began  to  get  thicker'n 
these  Californy  fleas  on  a  fat  dog's  back. 

"Meat  was  mighty  scarce  with  us  and 
I  w-as  afraid*  it  would  be  scarcer  yet 
through  the  winter.  I  only  had  a  few 
head  of  stock  and  didn't  feel  like  killin'  any 
of  it,  and  I  didn't  have  time  to  do  much 
huntin';  but  the  prairie  chicken  looked  to 
me  like  the  manna  the  Good  Book  tells 
about.  I  drove  to  town,  twenty  miles 
north  of  us,  and  bought  three  or  four  big 
salt  pork  barrels,  empty  of  course,  about 
twenty  or  thirty  pounds  of  powder  and 
enough  shot  to  sink  a  flat  boat.  Then  for 
a  solid  week  I  didn't  do  a  blessed  thing 
but  kill  prairie  chickens  while  my  wife 
salted  them  down  in  the  barrels  against 
the  winter.  I  had  a  big  eight  bore  in  those 
days,  weighin'  fifteen  pounds.  I  used  to 
load  up  with  about  eight  drams  of  black 
powder  and  a  handful  of  shot,  and  when  I 
cut  that  gun  loose  at  a  flock  of  the  birds 
I  had  a  backload  to  carry  to  the  house. 

"No,  they  wasn't  any  sport  about  it,  and 
it  seems  pretty  tough  in  these  days;  but 
let  me  tell  you,  boys,  when  you're  scared 
stiff  for  fear  the  wife  and  kids  won't  have 
enough    to    eat    through    the    long    winter. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


355 


you'll  forget  all  about  sport  and  get  down 
to  business  like  I  did.  We  filled  the  four 
barrels  plumb  full  of  the  birds  and  had 
about  a  hundred  hung  up  to  smoke  into 
the  bargain. 

"Well  sir,  if  they's  anything  that  a  man 
can  get  more  tired  of  than  prairie  chickens, 
specially  salted  ones,  I  want  to  know  what 
it  is.  We  had  fresh  ones  for  quite  a  while 
and  then  we  turned  loose  on  the  salted 
ones,  and  of  all  the  sickenin'  things  you 
can  imagine,  a  steady  diet  of  one  kind  of 
game  is  the  worst. 

"Come  Christmas  time,  things  were 
pretty  tight  with  us.  I  drove  to  town  and 
got  a  few  things  to  help  out  for  Christmas 
but  fresh  meat  was  out  of  my  reach  with 
my  pocket  book  as  flat  as  a  herrin'.  I 
figured  that  I'd  get  out  and  get  a  few 
ducks  for  Christmas  dinner,  though  they 
looked  enough  like  those  everlastin' 
chickens  to  take  away  the  appetite  of  our 
little  family.  But  two  days  before  Christ- 
mas it  began  to  snow.  About  four  inches 
fell,  then  it  quit  and  turned  cold.  The 
marshes  froze  up  tight  and  that  meant  no 
ducks  for  us. 

"A  slough  ran  out  of  the  river  about 
ten  miles  above  us.  It  meandered  out  in 
the  prairie  about  six  miles  from  the  river 
and  then  ran  along  in  about  the  same 
direction  as  the  big  river,  runnin'  back  into 
the  Mississippi  some  fifteen  miles  below. 
They  was  a  heavy  belt  of  timber  running 
along  the  river,  about  three  miles  in  width, 
but  between  that  and  the  slough  was  nothin' 
but  marsh,  full  of  ducks  most  of  the 
time  but  not  when  it  was  froze  up  tight. 
Along  the  slough  was  another  strip  qf 
timber  about  half  a  mile  thick  but  this 
was  on  the  prairie  side.  Once  in  a  while 
a  man  could  run  into  wild  turkey  or  deer 
in  this  timber  by  the  slough,  and  I  decided 
that  if  we  were  goin'  to  have  a  Christmas 
dinner  worth  while,  one  with  some  thing 
besides  those  horrible  prairie  chicken,  I 
would  have  to  get  over  in  that  timber  and 
do  some  tall  huntin'. 

"The  day  before  Christmas  I  took  the 
big  gun  down  from  the  hooks  and  set 
out  from  our  palatial  mansion,  made 
mostly  of  some  logs  and  a  hole  in  the 
ground,  but  mighty  warm  and  comfortable 
just  the  same. 

"  'Daddy's  goin'  to  bring  something 
good   home   for   Christmas,  Johnny'   says    I 


to  my  little  boy,  who  was  watchin'  me  set 
out  and  wishin'  under  his  breath  that  he 
could    go   along. 

"'Something  beside  prairie  chicken,  Daddy?' 
and  I  nodded,  hopin'  with  all  my  heart  that  I 
could  make  my  word  good. 

"It  was  a  bit  far  to  walk  so  I  threw  a 
blanket  on  old  Nell,  my  black  mare,  and 
we  started  out  across  the  prairie.  An  hour 
or  so  later  we  pulled  up  at  the  edge  of  the 
timber  and  I  turned  the  mare  loose  to 
feed,  knowin'  she'd  be  there  or  there- 
abouts when  I  wanted  her. 

"Puttin'  fresh  caps  on  the  gun,  I  started 
out  through  the  timber,  hopin'  that  I  would 
run  into  a  flock  of  the  wild  turkeys  that 
I  knew  ran  in  those  woods,  or  maybe  a 
deer,  though  that  seemed  too  good  to  be 
true.  The  trees  were  mostly  big  hickory 
and  walnuts,  with  patches  of  hazel  bushes 
all  through  the  timber.  Of  course  the 
leaves  were  all  gone  but  it  seemed  mighty 
dark  and  lonesome  in  there,  the  day  it- 
self being  grey  and  overcast,  and  the 
gloom   began   to   get   on   my   spirits. 

"  'Shucks'  thinks  I,  'I  might  just  as  well 
turn  around  and  go  home,  they's  nothin' 
in  here'.  The  slough  lay  a  full  two  hundred 
feet  below  the  prairie  and  the  bluff  was 
steep  and  covered  with  bushes.  I  walked 
clean  through  the  half  mile  strip  of  timber 
without  seein'  a  thing  and  walked  up  to 
the  edge  of  the  bluff.  Below  me  was  the 
slough,  covered  with  ice  and  four  inches  of 
srow,  and  not  a  track  in  sight.  I  walked 
along  the  edge  of  the  bluff  lookin'  for  a 
good  place  to  get  down,  not  too  particular 
as  to  the  amount  of  nois:  I  made,  not 
really  believin'  that  there  was  any  game 
within  ten  miles. 

"Suddenly  below  me  they  was  a  rustle, 
and  before  I  could  think,  out  on  the  ice 
of  the  slough  jumped  a  big  buck,  takin' 
twenty  foot  jumps  for  the  marsh  on  the 
further    side. 

"'Blamm!'  went  the  old  eight  gauge  and  I, 
bein'  off  my  balance  sat  down  in  the  snow 
with  a  thump.  I  jumped  up  like  a  flash 
and  peered  down  through  the  curling 
smoke  but  no  deer  was  to  be  seen.  I 
s'pose  I  must  have  over-shot  him  with 
the  whole  handful  of  buckshot  I  had  in 
the  gun.  Well  sir,  you  should  o'  seen  me 
gettin'  down  that  two  hundred  foot  bluff 
and  takin'  after  that  deer.  The  deer  him- 
self couldn't   have  beat  my  time. 


356 


WESTERS  FIELD 


"dut  on  the  ice  I  went  and  'crash'  I 
wont  into  the  water;  and  let  me  tell  yon, 
boys,  a  bath  in  a  half  frozen  slough  in 
December  is  mighty  cold.  The  ice  was 
new  and  tough  and  while  it  let  the  buck 
over  all  right,  it  wouldn't  hold  me  and 
my  hundred  and  eighty  pounds.  The  water 
was  only  about  up  to  my  waist  so  on  I 
went,  brcakin'  the  ice  with  the  butt  of  my 
gun  and  ploughin'  right  along.  The  water 
was  about  eighty  yards  wide  so  I  was  soon 
across  and  out  on  the  frozen  mud  of  the 
marsh,  lyin'  between  the  slough  and  the 
strip  of  timber  along  the  river.  The  buck's 
tracks  were  in  plain  sight  but  not  a  drop 
of  blood  was  to  be  seen. 

"  'Well,'  thinks  I,  'it's  either  that  deer  or 
no  Christmas  dinner';  so  out  I  took  after 
the  buck.  The  marsh  was  covered  with 
patches  of  tules,  with  here  and  there  ridges 
of  pin  oaks,  and  bein'  frozen  made  the 
walkin'  easy.  When  I  was  about  two 
hundred  yards  from  the  edge  of  the  timber 
along  the  river,  something  jumped  out  of 
a  patch  of  hazel-nut  bushes  and  skipped 
off  into  the  woods.  It  was  my  buck  all 
right,  but  too  far  away  for  the  buckshot  to 
carry  with  any  show  of  hittin'  him. 

"Right  through  the  timber  by  the  river 
I  tracked  the  buck,  not  seein'  another  livin' 
thing  all  the  time.  Right  up  to  the  water's 
edge  ran  the  tracks  and  then  they  turned 
and  ran  north,  following  the  stream,  and  I 
plodded  right  along  without  a  stop.  It  was 
then  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
I  was  young  and  strong  and  tough  and  I 
was  goin'  to  have  that  deer  if  I  had  to  walk 
to   St.   Louey  to  get  him. 

"The  tracks  turned  off  back  through  the 
timber,  so  back  through  the  three  mile 
stretch  I  went,  walkin'  at  a  good  pace  and 
watchin'  sharp  for  signs  of  the  buck  tryin' 
to  double  or  shake  me  off  his  trail.  The 
tracks  led  out  on  the  marsh  again  and  I 
crossed  the  three  mile  strip  of  marsh  with- 
out gettin'  sight  of  the  deer.  The  contrary 
critter  had  gone  across  the  slough  again 
and  I  had  to  break  my  way  through  the 
ice  after  him.  It  only  made  me  all  the 
more  set  on  gettin'  him.  He  had  gone 
along  the  strip  between  the  slough  and  the 
bluff  and  evidently  bein'  afraid  to  climb 
up  the  bluff  in  plain  sight,  had  turned  and 
again  crossed  the  slough,  headin'  for  the 
marsh. 


"  'Old  boy'  thinks  I,  'if  you  had  to  break 
your  way  across  with  a  gun  butt  each  time, 
you'd  select  some  other  path'.  For  the 
third  time  I  battered  my  way  across  that 
slough.  I  didn't  mind  the  wettin'  as  the 
weather  was  moderatin'  and  the  exercise 
kept  me  warm,  but  what  made  me  mad  was 
to  have  that  pesky  deer  skip  lightly  across 
the  ice  and  me  have  to  batter  a  path 
through  it  before  I  could  follow. 

"Well,  sir,  we  did  our  little  stern  chase 
of  three  miles  across  the  marsh  and  three 
more  through  the  timber,  once  more.  Near 
the  river  the  tracks  led  into  a  thick  patch 
of  hazel  and,  thinkin'  that  maybe  the  buck 
was  lyin'  in  there  restin',  which  they  do 
when  they  are  hard  chased,  I  cocked  the 
old  gun  and  tip-toed  softly  around  to  the 
other  side,  but  the  tracks,  leading  away, 
showed  that  he  had  spotted  me  some  dis- 
tance away.  From  the  agitated  looks  of  the 
tracks  along  the  river,  the  buck  had  been 
thinkin'  strongly  about  jumpin'  in  and 
swimmin'  over  to  the  Illinois  bank  and  if  he 
had,  by  the  great  horn  spoon,  I'd  a'swum 
it  too,  I  was  so  wrought  up  about  that  deer. 
It  was  gettin'  to  be  more  than  just  a  ques- 
tion of  meat,  it  was  a  personal  affair,  him 
makin'  me  pound  ice  through  that  slough 
three  times,  besides  the  long  walk  back  and 
forth  across  the  marsh. 

"By  this  time  it  was  three  o'clock  and  I 
was  gettin'  might}-  tired.  We,  me  and  the 
buck,  had  walked  some  eighteen  miles 
across  rough  country  and  while  I  had  to 
carry  a  fifteen  pound  gun,  the  buck  had  to 
bear  up  under  a  load  of  worry  and  fright 
that  was  worse  than  three  or  four  heavy 
guns.  It  would  be  dark  enough  in  an  hour, 
it  bein'  December  and  a  dark  day  at  that, 
for  the  deer  to  give  me  the  slip,  and  I 
decided  that  I'd  finish  up  the  matter  if  it 
laid  me  up  for  a  week. 

"This  time  the  buck  had  turned  south  a 
piece  before  leavin'  the  river,  which  took 
him  to  about  the  same  place  where  we  had 
hit  the  river  on  our  first  trip.  The  tracks 
showed  that  he  didn't  feel  quite  so  springy 
and  he  had  laid  down  in  several  places  to 
rest.  He  seemed  to  be  afraid  to  keep  in  the 
timber  along  the  river  and  made  for  the 
same  old  marsh.  I  expect  the  wolves  had 
chased  him  out  of  the  timber  along  the 
river  and  he  still  remembered  them.  I  hit 
up  my  pace  to  a  good  fast  walk,  hopin'  to 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


357 


get  sight  of  the  buck  before  it  got  too  dark 
to  see  the  tracks.  He  wasn't  far  ahead  of 
me  by  this  time  and  once  I  caught  sight  of 
him  as  he  dodged  across  a  -low  ridge  in  the 
marsh  but  too  far  away  for  buck  shot. 

"  'Your  name  is  Christmas  Dinner'  says 
I  to  the  deer,  although  he  didn't  hear  me. 
By  this  time  the  buck  had  edged  down 
until  we  were  almost  walkin'  in  the  tracks 
we  made  when  we  first  crossed  the  slough. 

"On  I  plodded  through  the  light  snow, 
watchin'  those  little  prints  and  glancin'  up 
once  in  a  while  over  the  desolate  marsh 
with  its  bunches  of  grey,  frozen  tules  and 
ridges  covered  with  naked  pin-oak  trees.  It 
was  gettin'  warmer  all  the  time  and  I  knew 
that   most   likely   meant   more   snow. 

"I  had  got  within  half  a  mile  of  the 
slough  and  the  high  bluff  beyond  when 
suddenly,  as  i  crossed  a  little  ridge,  there 
was  a  rustle  in  the  tules  eighty  yards  beyond 
and  a  little  graceful  body  went  boundin' 
across  the  marsh.  I  Say  'boundin','  but  the 
bounds  were  mighty  tired  lookin'  and  dif- 
ferent from  the  springy  leaps  of  a  deer, 
just  aroused  from  his  home  in  the  forest. 
It  was  almost  dusk  and  a  light  snow  was 
beginnin'  to  fall.  'It's  either  a  case  to  get 
that  deer  or  lose  him  in  five  minutes'  says 
I,  and  I  started  in  on  a  dog  trot  in  the 
direction  of  the  slough  where  the  deer  had 
disappeared. 

"I  got  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the 
slough  and  no  deer.  My  heart  went  clear 
down  in  my  boots.  No  Christmas  dinner 
for  those  poor  kids  and  the  wife  back  there 
in  the  little  dugout.  But  I  trotted  on 
through  the  tules  that  lined  the  bank,  hopin' 
against  hope.  There  was  a  rustle  ahead  of 
me,  a  glimpse  of  a  dark  form  for  a  second 
and  then  the  sound  of  breaking  ice.  The 
truth  came  to  me  all  at  once.  The  buck  had 
started  in  to  cross  where  I  had  first  broken 
the    ice    and    the    new    coat    of    ice    wouldn't 


hold  him.  He  had  made  good  time,  even 
if  he  did  have  to  struggle  across  through 
thin  ice  and  by  the  time  I  got  to  the  bank, 
he  started  up  the  steep  face  of  the  bluff 
on  the  other  side  of  the  slough.  It  was 
almost  dark  but  against  the  light  snow  he 
showed  up  plain. 

"'Blamm!'  went  the  old  gun  and  'Blamm' 
went  the  second  barrel  for  good  measure. 
The  deer  disappeared  and  I  loaded  up  the 
rigTit  bairel  like  a  crazy  man  and  went 
across  that  slough  like  I  was  runnin'  on 
level  ground.  There  .was  no  need  to  hurry. 
The  deer  was  kickin'  his  last  kicks  on  the 
snow  at  the  foot  of  the  bluff,  hit  by  a 
dozen  buck  shot.  I  drew  my  knife  across 
his  throat  and  then  let  out  a  whoop  like  a 
Sioux  and  backed  it  up  by  a  war  dance, 
tired  as  I  was.  The  kids  should  have  a 
Christmas  dinner  worth  while,  and  last  but 
not  least,  I  had  beaten  the  buck  at  his 
own  game  of  travellin'. 

"It  was  plumb  dark  and  the  snow  was 
fallin'  by  the  time  I  reached  the  place  where 
I  had  left  the  old  mare  but  there  she  was, 
whinnyin'  for  joy  when  she  saw  me.  The 
old  girl  didn't  like  the  lonesome  woods  any 
more  than  any  other  female  would,  used  to 
civilization  and  the  comforts  of  home.  We 
went  back  after  the  buck,  goin'  slowly 
and  carefully  for  fear  of  over-hangin' 
limbs.  The  old  girl  snorted  a  couple  of 
times  as  I  put  the  buck  across  her  back, 
more  from  surprise  at  seein'  something  in 
the  meat  line  besides  prairie  chicken  than 
>fear,  and  climbin'  up  behind  the  deer,  we 
were  off.  Home  was  a  dozen  miles  off 
through  the  snow  and  darkness  but  I  didn't 
care  a  darn.  Our  Christmas  dinner,  a 
hundred  pounds  of  good  wholesome  deer 
meat,  was  across  the  old  mare's  back  where 
I  could  feel  it  and  make  sure  it  was  real, 
and  I  was  happy." 


wmmmcft 


bit  o'  travellin'."  and  "The  Professor",  who 
could  no  more  tell  you  what  he  professed  than 
he  could  analyse  an  Oriental  specimen  of 
chop  suey. 

Then  there  was  Charlie,  the  host — the  link 
between  old  San  Francisco  and  new :  famous 
today  among  the  younger  set  of  the  city's 
potentates,  and  with  memories  going  back  to 
their  fathers'  days,  more  years  than  he  cared 
to  admit.  • 


HE  night  was  enchanting.  The 
long  oily  stretch  of  boulevard, 
illumined  only  by  the  fitful  glare 
of  an  occasional  auto  or  the 
yellow  lights  from  scattered  cot- 
tages, died  away  to  the  south 
into  misty  infinity.  Over  the 
dunes  came  the  ceaseless  moan 
of  the  surf  of  old  Pacific,  roll- 
ing its  lazy  breakers  on  the 
sandy  shore.  The  Cliff  House  to  the  north, 
and  Mussel  Rock  on  the  south,  were  not  in 
the  picture — leaving  clear  but  a  league  or  so 
of  sandhills,  sea  and  sky. 

Round  the  open  fire  of  that  famous  hostelry 
known  as  "The  Bungalow,"  the  enchantment 
of  memory  held  sway,  for  it  was  the  after- 
dinner  period  of  one  of  those  evenings  when 
life  is  real  and  full. 

A  strange  group  we  were,  drawn  and  held 
together  by  the  bond  of  Bohemianism,  none 
the  less  potent  for  its  lack  of  conventionality. 
There  was  "The  Doctor,"  whose  sole  claim 
to  the  title  consisted  of  a  morning  coat  and 
a  Napoleonic  beard;  none  of  us  knew  who 
first  called  him  Doctor,  none  of  us  cared. 

Xext  was  Billy,  whose  parents  had  re- 
ligiously dubbed  him  Theodore,  but  who  was 
"Billy  frae  Boston,"  writ  large  in  Scotch,  first, 
last  and  all  the  time. 

The  British  element  was  represented  by- 
George,  a  practical  but  phlegmatic  Lancashire 
business  man  who,  arrived  at  forty  years  and 
a    competency    simultaneously,    was    "doin'    a 


The  "duck  dinner"  had  been  perfection.  No 
canvasbacks  for  mine  host ;  he  had  looked  over 
the  barrel  of  his  gun  at  too  many  of  the 
winged  beauties  to  bring  down  any  but  the 
birds  he  wanted. 

"Boys,"  said  he.  "compliments  are  all  right, 
but  forget  it !  I'm  not  denying  that  the  dinner 
was  good,  but  I've  had  many  a  better  in  the 
old  Widgeon  Club  house.  Those  were  times, 
I  tell  you.  Yes.  sir !  The  world  went  very 
well  then,  and  there's  maybe  a  dozen  old  fogies 
in  San  Francisco  tonight  whose  chief  delight 
is  living  again  the  old  days.  Good  lord !  The 
larks  we  had.  I've  a  few  bottles  in  the  cellar 
that  are  about  old  enough  to  vote,  and  we'll 
have  a  couple  up  now.  in  memory  of  the  good 
old  club." 

Just  how  to  get  Charlie  started  on  Widgeon 
yarns  it  was  difficult  to  decide,  but  the  blunt- 
ness  of  the  Britisher  did  the  trick. 

"Where  was  the  Widgeon  Club.  Charlie?" 
said  George,  when  some  of  the  choicest  Bur- 
gundy, imported  before  the  Italian  invasion 
of  California's  grape  lands,  had  received  our 
august  approval. 

"Where  was  it?  Where  was  the  Widgeon? 
That's  too  good !"  said  our  host.  "The  old 
club  had  a  sort  of  club-house,  it  is  true,  not  a 
hundred  miles  from  Sacramento,  nor  a  thou- 
sand from  the  Bay;  it  was  marked  on  the 
early  sportsmen's  maps  with  dotted  lines  on 
the  marshes  that  looked  like  a  bit  of  present- 
day  railroad  advertising.  But  the  locale 
proper  of  the  Widgeon  did  not  exist.     It  was 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


359 


the  life,  man ;  the  entity  of  the  club  as  a  whole ; 
the  dove-tailing  of  its  members'  idiosyncrasies, 
that  composed  the  club.  These  are  now  but 
memories,  yet  they  live  in  every  clime.  Some, 
too,  have  winged  their  flight  into  the  great 
beyond." 

An  awkward  silence,  broken  only  by  the 
crackling  of  burning  logs,  was  ended  at  last 
by  the  more  cheerful  resumption  of  our  host. 

"Did  you  fellows  ever  catch  clams?"  he 
asked. 

"I  have  seen  them  clam-catching,  or  hunting, 
or  what  you  call  it,  on  the  Mississippi,  near 
La  Crosse,"  said  the  Professor,  "with  a 
peculiar  contrivance  made  of  an  iron  rod  with 
trailing  chains  for  the  clams  to  hang  on  to — " 

"Aw,  rats !  I  don't  mean  like  those  petti- 
fogging pearlfishers  of  Wisconsin ;  but  fishing 
for  clams  in  a  sporting  way,  with  a  clam-trap, 
ha,  ha,  ha — !" 

Here  Charlie  gave  vent  to  an  ungovernable 
fit  of  laughter,  and  we  waited  patiently  to  be 
let  in  on  the  joke. 

"O,  ye  Gods !  I  can  see  him  now,  packing 
the  'beastly  old  clams'  to  the  cabin. 

"He  was  a  green  young  Englishman,  as 
green  as  they  make  'em,  but  no  piker.  He' 
could  take  a  joke,  and  he  could  make  one,  and 
whenever  he  did  get  one  on  us,  it  was  a 
stunner.  I'll  tell  you  of  how  he  had  me  once, 
but  not  just  now. 

"Jee-rusalem !     Bertie  and  his  clam  trap.    It 

happened     that    Judge  (it's    not    fair    to 

mention  names,  for  his  sort  never  dies  out, 
and  he  has  progeny  in  California),  Tom  Calla- 
ghan  and  a  few  others  of  the  old  stock,  were 
up  at  the  club  for  a  couple  of  weeks'  shooting 
— and  whatever  else  offered  in  the  way  of 
sport.  This  young  Britisher  blows  in  on  me 
just  as  I  was  leaving  the  city. 

"Britishers  of  the  right  sort  were  always 
welcome  with  the  Widgeons,  and  of  this  par- 
ticular type  there  were  too  few,  and  the  season 
for  bagging  them  never  closed. 

"Bertie  went  up  to  the  club  with  me,  and 
after  spending  the  night  in  the  cabin,  a  gun 
party  was  made  up  the  following  morning,  of 
which  the  Englishman  was  one.  I  remained 
behind  to  cook  the  breakfast. 

"You  know  those  beautiful  California  rivers, 
half  mud  and  half  reeds,  with  a  thin  stream 
of  clear  water  always  nearer  the  other  side 
than  the  one  you're  on.  We  had  run  out  a 
plank  above  the  sedge  for  some  fifty  yards, 
and  at  the  end  of  this  we  got  the  clear  water 


for  the  camp.  It  happened  that  I  was  just 
lowering  the  bucket  from  the  end  of  the  plank, 
when  I  spied  the  party  coming  in,  from  differ- 
ent directions,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away. 
Bertie  was,  as  I  made  it  out,  timed  to  arrive 
a  few  minutes  before  the  rest  of  the  party, 
for  he  had  stumbled  on  the  only  bit  of  straight 
path  that  didn't  end  in  a  bog  hole,  and  was 
striding  home  at  a  good  clip. 

"An  idea  occurred  to  me ;  I  ran  back  and 
found  four  or  five  big  rocks,  and  after  lugging 
them  to  the  end  of  the  plank,  dropped  them 
in  the  creek.  Then  I  went  to  the  cabin,  got 
an  old  stout  fishing  pole,  tied  a  two-prong 
carving  fork  to  the  end  of  it.  and  sat  on  the 
plank  end  with  this  weapon  over  my  shoulder, 
when  Johnny  Bull  comes  marching  home.  See- 
ing me  intent  on  my  work,  or  play,  he  walks 
leisurely  along  the  plank,  and  says : 

"'Aw.  well!     Fishing,  Charlie?' 

"  'Hello,  Bertie,'  says  I,  'didn't  see  you.  Glad 
you've  come,  though ;  you  can  watch  this  clam 
trap  while  I  get  the  coffee  going.  Here,  take 
this  spear  and  when  you  see  a  disturbance 
down  there' — (pointing  to  the  'trap') — jab  into 
it   for  all  you're  worth.' 

"This  was  something  quite  new.  and 
Bertie  fell  into  the  trap,  if  the  clams 
didn't.  Soon  after,  the  other  boys  came 
in,  and  if  those  had  been  kodak  days,  what  a 
fine  picture  we  could  have  got  of  the  Britisher, 
stolidly  indifferent  to  all  the  world,  waiting 
for  clams  with  a  carving  fork.  We  got  him 
in  for  breakfast,  and  then  had  him  fish  again 
for  clams  for  an  hour  or  so.  His  patience  was 
worthy  of  a  better  cause. 

"'They  aren't  running  very  well  this  morn- 
ing, Bertie,  so  we'll  try  and  fix  'em.  Just  go 
to  the  cabin  and  bring  a  chunk  of  raw  beef 
along  to  bait  the  trap,  and  we'll  try  again.' 
While  he  was  gone,  I  slipped  into  the  water 
half  a  dozen  of  the  biggest  clams  we  had — 
and  we  had  lots  of  them  in  camp.  Back  comes 
Bertie  with  the  beef. 

"By  jove,  I  believe  there's  a  bite,  Bert. 
Drop  in  that  venison  and  you'll  soon  see 
sport.'  Bertie  did  as  he  was  told  and  by  and 
by  we  saw  him  jabbing  at  the  trap  like  an 
Arab  fanatic. 

"  'I've  got  them  heah,  Chawlie,  but  I  cawn't 
stick  the  blamed  things,'  said  he.  We  all 
went  along  the  plank  to  inspect,  and  were  of 
course  amazed  at  his  success.  One  of  us 
went  back  for  rubber  boots  and  had  Bertie 
go    down    into    the    muddy    deep    and    scoop 


360 


WESTERN  FIELD 


out  the  clams,  which  he  bore  cabinwards  in 
triumph. 

"  It   w.is  only  with  great   difficulty  we  got 

him  to  abandon  his  clam-trap  for  the  unknown 
and  untried  delights  of  snipe  shooting.  He 
was  not  quite  green  enough  to  bite  at  the 
time  worn  snipe-catching  scheme,  so  we  let 
him  in  on  the  clam  joke,  and  he  laughed  like 
the  true  sportsman  he  was. 

"While  speaking  of  this  scion  of  a  noble  old 
English  house.  I  cannot  but  mention  his  im- 
perturbable good  nature,  and  coolness  during 
exciting  moments.  He  was  not  the  best  shot 
we  had,  but  he  made  the  best  bag,  because  he 
never  lost  his  head.  Once  we  gave  him  blanks 
which  we  had  carefully  loaded,  and  he  found 
out  the  dodge  after  the  second  shot.  He  said 
not  a  word  till  we  stopped  for  lunch,  then 
coming  over  to  me  he  said,  loud  enough  for  us 
all  to  hear: 


"  'Chawlie,  will  you  please  hand  the  caw- 
tridges  to  the  Majah;  they'll  make  better 
coffee  than  pawtridge  killers.'  The  laugh  on 
the  Major  was  loud  and  long,  for  thereby  hung 
a  tale. 

"After  one  of  our  hilarious  evenings  it  was 
the  Major's  turn  to  get  up  and  cook  the  coffee. 
His  mental  equilibrium  was  so  far  disturbed 
that  he  stood  over  the  hot  stove  with  cooking 
spoon  in  one  hand,  stirring  the  'coffee'  po*, 
while  with  the  other  he  emptied  half  the  con- 
tents of  a  two-pound  powder  can  into  it. 
Fortunately  he  aimed  straight,  and  managed 
to  miss  the  red-hot  stove-lid." 

When  the  laughter — as  much  at  the  old 
man's  grotesque  gestures  and  indescribable 
drawl  as  at  the  subject  matter  of  his  tales — 
had  ceased,  he  held  up  the  last  of  his  Bur- 
gundy and  we  instinctively  rose  to  his  toast: 

"Those  good  old  days!" 


iitt 


■  t-'Uf.ivli 

BM4 


MT.  TAMALPAIS  AT  SUNSET 

A    PURPLED   silhouette   'gainst   sunset   skies, 
**    A    trembling    star    above,    dark    sea    below, 
Drowsing    and   dreaming   Tamalpais    lies, 
Slow    blurring    into    evening's    dim    disguise, 
While  bright  and  brighter  doth  that  star's  shine  glow. 
Lighting    the    sunset,    on    its    path    to    go 
From   whence   it   came — Fayland    or   Paradise. 

—Genevieve  Beriolacci 


SOUTH  COAST  SHOOTING 


By  "Stillhunter" 


No.   XL— SOME   SHORE   BIRDS    I   HAVE  MET 


3F  ALL  the  feathered  tribes  that 
dwell  from  mainland  mountain 
crest  to  sandy  shore  of  channel 
island,  I  like  the  shorebirds 
best.  Clean  of  plumage,  almost 
military  in  their  bearing,  brave 
wanderers  from  north  or  south, 
they  win  their  way  to  us  hun- 
ters of  the  South  Coast  with 
that  regularity  of  migration 
which  is  nothing  less  than  wonderful. 

In  every  section  of  Southern  California, 
from  the  long  stretch  of  sandy  shore  at  Long 
Beach  back  to  the  damp  meadows  of  the 
mountains,  and  from  the  Malibu  and  the  Ven- 
tura county  line  down  to  the  sandy  river  bed 
at  Tia  Juana,  are  to  be  found  shore  birds. 
The  family  by  no  means  includes  only  the 
willets  and  the  sanderlings  and  the  curlew 
of  the  immediate  ocean  shore,  but  covers  as 
well  the  phalaropes,  mountain  plovers,  spotted 
sandpipers  and  a  host  of  others  which  never 
approach  the  beach. 

For  the  benerit  of  those  who  may  be  puzzled 
by  the  myriads  of  waders  which  throng  the 
mesas  of  the  interior,  the  ponds  of  the  coast 
belt  and  the  mud  flats  of  the  estuaries  as  well 
_as  the  beaches  below  the  sand  hills,  I  have 
made  up  the  following  list,  in  which  any 
shorebird  shot  on  the  south  coast  is  pretty 
sure  to  fall : 


Red  Phalarope, 

Occasional    migrant. 

Northern     Phalarope, 
Abundant    migrant. 

Wilson's    Snipe, 
Winter     migrant. 

Knot,* 

Rare  migrant. 

White-rumped    Sand- 
piper,* 
Rare    migrant. 


American    Avocet, 
Common    resident. 

Black-necked  Stilt, 

Found    in    spring    and 
fall. 

Long-billed    Dowitcher, 
Occasional    in    winter. 

Least    Sandpiper, 
Common   in   winter. 

Baird's    Sandpiper** 
Rare    winter    visitor. 


Red-backed    Sandpiper, 
Common   in   winter. 


Sanderling, 

Common  all  winter. 


Greater     Yellowlegs, 
Occasional   in  winter. 


Western    Solitary    Sand- 


Wandering    Tattler, 
Occasional    on    coast. 

Long-billed  Curlew, 
Common     in     winter. 

Black-bellied    Plover, 
Spring    and    fall 
migrant. 


Little    Ring    Plover,*     . 
Very   rare   migrant. 

Wilson's    Plover,* 
Rare   migrant. 

Surf   Bird,* 
Rare    migrant. 

Black   Turnstone, 

Occasional    in    winter. 


Western    Sandpiper, 

Abundant    in    fall    and 
spring. 

Marbled  Godwit, 
Fairly    common 
migrant. 

Yellowlegs,* 

Rare   in    winter. 

Western   Willet, 
Common    migrant. 

Spotted   Sandpiper, 
Common    in    interior. 

Hudsonian     Curlew, 

Common  in  spring  and 
fall. 

American    Golden 

Plover,* 

Rare   migrant. 

Semipalmated    Plover, 
Occasional    migrant. 

Snowy   Plover, 

Common     resident. 

Mountain    Plover, 

Common    on    mesas    in 
winter. 

Ruddy    Turnstone,* 
Occasional    migrant. 

Frazar's    Oyster- 
Catcher,* 
Rare     migrant. 


From  this  list  the  sportsman  will  select  at 
once  the  real  game  birds,  though  all  may  be 
and  are  shot  and  eaten  by  many  hunters,  in 
season  and  out.  Both  the  avocet  and  the  stilt 
are  legitimate  game ;  of  Wilson's  snipe  I  have 
written  already  in  these  pages ;  while  the  two 
curlew  are  probably  the  best  known  of  all  the 
migrant  waders  on  this  coast.  Of  sandpipers, 
the  red-backed  is  well  known  and,  while  not 
much  to  shoot  at,  being  too  easy  to  approach 
and  kill,  are  an  excellent  table  bird,  though 
small. 


*  Species    marked     with     t 
most    part    are    for    sections 
field  workers  for   what   they 


le  asterisk  are  records 
>f  the  state  outside  the 
ire   worth. 


given    by    one    of    the   opera   glass   squad  and    for   the 
coast  south  of  Ventura.     They  may  be  taken  by  real 


362 


WESTERN  FIELD 


The  phalaropes,  which  bead  the  list,  are  not 
game  birds  and  should  not  be  shot.  Though 
built  like  sandpipers,  they  may  be  recognized 
at  once  by  their  feet,  which  are  provided  with 
lobed  webs,  like  those  of  the  coots  and  grebes. 
None  of  the  other  shorebirds  are  so  prepared 
for  swimming,  and  the  phalaropes  frequently 
may  be  seen  swimming  in  some  coastal  pond 
in  the  edge  of  which  other  species  of  shore- 
birds  are  feeding. 

If  we  except  the  snowy  plover,  the  Ameri- 
can avocet  is  the  commonest  breeding  bird  of 
this  group  in  Southern  California  and  the 
black-necked  stilt  follows  it  a  close  second. 
I  have  shot  both  birds  in  years  gone  by,  and 
one  of  the  most  pleasant  days  of  my  shooting 
career  was  spent  with  the  avocets  and  stilts 
on  the  shallow  alkali  lakes  south  of  Santa 
Ana  in  Orange  county.  In  those  days,  twelve 
to  fifteen  years  ago,  the  waders  were  not  so 
shy  as  now,  and  it  was  a  beautiful  sight  to 
see  a  band  of  these  avocets  coming  in  to  their 
feeding  grounds  on  the  edge  of  the  lake. 
With  long,  slightly-upturned  bill  extended 
even  beyond  the  long,  slender  neck,  and  feet 
and  legs  trailing  behind,  they  settle  down  on 
the  mud  flats  like  a  cloud  of  huge  mosquitoes. 

The  grass  and  weeds  were  high ;  I  had  no 
blind,  but  crouched  in  a  "form"  I  had  hol- 
lowed out  in  the  tangle.  I  had  only  the  20- 
gauge  shotgun  and  it  was  a  case  of  wait  till 
the  birds  come  to  my  range,  rather  than  rise 
up  and  shoot  at  them  wild.  Through  the  grass 
blades  I  could  see  the  shimmering  birds 
dropping  down,  blotched  here  and  there  with 
the  darker  colors  of  a  band  of  black-necked 
stilts.  Pleasantly  they  chattered,  each  to 
each,  and  the  noise  of  their  calls  came  like  the 
distant  hum  of  human  conversation. 

Finally  one  solitary  avocet,  sloping  slowly 
from  the  height  of  full  flight  to  the  lake,  came 
across  my  line  of  fire,  dropping  in  good  range 
for  the  little  20-gauge.  Inexperienced  in  the 
gentle  pursuit  of  avocet  shooting,  I  gave  him 
about  a  foot  and  sent  a  load  of  chilled  sevens 
after  him.  He  ducked  as  though  struck  on 
the  back  of  the  head  with  a  club,  fluttered 
through  the  air  some  twenty  or  thirty  paces 
and  fell  into  the  grass,  where  he  immediately 
began  to  wail  out  his  troubles. 

This  was  the  luckiest  thing  that  could  have 
happened  for  me,  insofar  as  making  a  bag 
went.  In  three  minutes  the  air  was  full  of 
avocets  and  stilts,  rushing  to  answer  the  call 
of  their   wounded  tribesman.     As   I   came   to 


shoot  more  and  more  among  these  birds  1 
learned  to  give  them  but  very  little  headway 
in  flight:  often,  indeed,  drawing  directb  down 
on  the  bird.  I  learned  also  that  one  winged 
bird  at  the  outset  of  the  shooting  was  worth 
all  the  decoys  ever  made. 

With  the  aid  of  the  injured  avocet  I 
gathered  in  eight  more  of  his  kind  and  four 
stilts,  beautiful,  glossy-backed  birds,  of  some- 
what smaller  body  than  the  avocets  but  of 
about  as  good  flavor  out  of  the  pan.  Out  of  a 
blind,  in  country  where  these  waders  are  shot 
much,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  bag  any  of 
them.  They  are  one  of  the  few  game  birds 
which  are  too  wary,  even,  for  the  .22  rifle, 
one  of  the  best  weapons  for  the  curlew  and 
ducks  when  the  shooter  has  sense  and  decency 
enough  not  to  try  to  fill  a  wagon  with  the 
bodies  of  his  victims. 

The  American  avocet  has  a  webbed  foot — 
or,  rather,  a  partially  webbed  foot,  for  the 
webbing  does  not  extend  down  to  the  toes  as 
it  does  with  the  ducks  and  geese.  These 
long-legged  waders  swim  with  ease,  and  I 
have  on  several  occasions  seen  them  wade  out 
into  water  considerably  above  their  heads 
while  they  were  feeding,  and  calmly  swim 
across  to  a  mud  flat  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
pond. 

In  nests  and  home  life  the  avocets  and  the 
stilts  are  much  alike.  The  eggs  of  each  are 
similar  in  markings,  being  of  a  buff  to  green- 
ish-yellow ground  color  heavily  spotted  with 
brownish  black.  The  shape  is  pyriform  and 
the  eggs  of  the  avocet  are  larger  than  those 
of  the  stilt.  Three  or  four  is  the  full  setting 
and  the  time  was,  fifteen  years  ago,  when 
both  birds  were  common  nesters  along  the  * 
small  wet-weather  lakes  of  the  south  coast 
lowlands ;  but  they  have  been  steadily  de- 
creasing since,  until  now  the  breeding  pairs 
probably  can  be  counted  by  hundreds  from 
San  Diego  to  Ventura,  instead  of  by  thousands 
as  they  once  were. 

One  of  the  most  beautiful  sights  of  the 
old  days  in  the  lowdands,  and  one  which 
was  sure  to  greet  every  duck  hunter  return- 
ing home  at  nightfall,  was  the  sight  of 
myriads  of  avocets  and  stilts  flashing  in 
blotches-  of  black  and  white  along  the  marge 
of  some  shallow  pool.  In  those  days  no  one 
of  us  thought  of  shooting  the  slender,  grace- 
ful birds,  though  any  one  of  us  would  crawl 
a  hundred  yards  flat  on  his  belly  to  get  a 
shot  at  a  curlew. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


363 


But,  though  I  could  write  of  these  avocets 
and  stilts  for  an  hour,  so  much  have  I  fallen 
in  love  with  them,  enough  is  plenty  and  let  us 
consider  tiie  long-billed  dowitcher,  he  that  is 
miscalled  "Jack  snipe"  on  about  half  the  gun 
clubs  of  the  South  Coast. 

This  bird,  coming  among  the  first  migrants 
from  the  breeding  grounds  of  the  Yukon  and 
the  Aleutian  Islands,  is  found  occasionally  on 
the  South  Coast  in  small  bands  of  from  ten 
to  fifty  birds.  Now  and  again  one  or  two 
individuals  will  appear  among  the  members  of 
a  flock  of  willets  or  with  small  parties  of 
sandpipers.  Dowitchers  are  birds  of  the  river 
mouths  and  of  muddy  estuaries,  where  reced- 
ing tides  lay  bare  a  plentiful  food  supply. 

To  shoot  them  is  not  sport,  but  slaughter ; 
for  they  are  among  the  most  unsuspicious  of 
all  the  shorebirds,  lingering  on  the  beach 
long  after  the  warning  cries  of  other  waders 
have  told  them  that  man,  their  enemy,  is  ap- 
proaching. Over  decoys,  the  bag  of  the 
Dowitcher  hunter  is  limited  only  by  his  ability 
to  shoot.  They  decoy  readily  and  will  whirl 
in  distracted  circles  about  a  wounded  fellow- 
member  of  their  band  until  almost  every  one 
is  dead — shot  from  the  blind  without  effort  by 
the  gunner. 

Dowitchers  have  partially  webbed  feet  and 
can  swim  after  a  fashion,  though  not  so  well 
as  other  members  of  the  tribe.  I  have  seen 
small  bands  of  dowitchers  swimming  in  the 
lagoon  at  what  is  now  Playa  del  Rey,  but 
which  then  was  Ballona,  happy  home  of  the 
Mexican  fandango  and  of  the  care-free  cockle 
which  did  the  best  it  could  in  the  shallow 
waters  of  the  little  bay. 

For  exact  naturalists  and  hair  splitters  it 
may  be  said  that,  while  the  long-billed  dow- 
itcher is  a  well  sustained  species,  quite  dis- 
tinct from  the  dowitcher  of  the  Atlantic  sea- 
board, its  range  is  not  so  well  defined.  Pre- 
sumably the  western  form  inhabits  the  country 
from  the  Mississippi  to  the  Pacific  and  from 
the  equator  on  the  south  as  far  north  as 
man  has  dared  to  go.  According  to  Elliot, 
the  bird  breeds  in  Alaska  and  on  both  shores 
of  Behring  Sea,  while  probably  it  is  a  frequent 
nester  on  the  islands  which  dot  these  tem- 
pestuous waters. 

And  when  you  are  out  on  the  beach,  keep  a 
weather  eye  out  for  the  most-heard-of  and 
least  known  of  all  the  shorebirds — the  Knot. 
It  is  a  rare,  extremely  rare,  migrant  accord- 
ing to  the  books,  but  I  never  saw  one  on  the 


South  Coast,  nor  do  I  ever  expect  to  meet 
with  one  here;  so  if  you  thirst  after  further 
information  about  this  wader  go  read  Elliot 
or  Ridgway  or  Coues  or  the  records  of 
Greely's  expeditions,  on  one  of  which  the 
first  known  egg  of  the  Knot  was  procured. 

The  Least  Sandpiper,  smallest  of  all  its 
tribe,  deserves  mention  here  because  in  some 
seasons  it  visits  the  South  Coast  in  such 
numbers  that  the  flocks  seem  little  less  than 
clouds  of, birds.  Probably  hundreds  are  killed 
each  season  by  heartless  and  depraved  gunners 
who  shoot  into  the  flocks  merely  to  see  how 
many  they  can  kill.  The  birds,  barely  five 
and  a  half  inches  long,  are  too  small  for 
table  use  and  are  usually  left  to  lie  on  the 
beach  when  slain.  When  flying,  these  birds 
turn  half  way  over  in  the  air  and  back  again, 
thus  alternately  showing  the  white  of  their 
bellies  and  the  darker  shades  of  their  upper 
parts.  This  kaleidoscopic  showing  and  their 
cries  of  peep,  peep,  peep!  are  sure  marks  of 
identification  for  the  least  sandpiper,  whether 
found  along  the  kelp-strewn  beach,  on  the 
tide  flats  at  some  river's  mouth  or  inland  on 
the  edge  of  a  roadside  pool.  I  have  heard 
these  birds  called  "jack  snipe"  also,  but  they 
are  no  more  jack  snipe  than  Wilson's  snipe 
is  a  woodcock. 

Now  and  then,  it  is  reported,  though  I 
imagine  that  it  is  but  rarely,  a  white-rumped 
sandpiper  comes  to  the  South  Coast,  and 
with  equal  rarity,  Bairds'  sandpiper  wanders 
down  the  California  shore  to  puzzle  amateur 
naturalists  and  cause  a  great  digging  among 
reference  books.  But  neither  one  of  these 
are  real  additions  to  the  avifauna  of  the  South 
Coast  and  it  is  extremely  unlikely  that  either 
ever  will  fall  before  your  gun  or  mine. 
Peculiar  in  markings  if  not  in  action,  each 
would  attract  enough  attention  from  the 
shooter  to  warrant  his  looking  them  up.  Of  a 
surety,  he  would  hardly  bother  to  eat  either 
one. 

In  winter,  when  the  north  is  mantled  in 
snow  and  when  its  rivers  and  lakes  are  ice- 
bound, there  comes  to  the  South  Coast  one 
of  the  most  interesting  of  all  the  shorebird 
tribe — the  Redbacked  sandpiper.  This  is  the 
American  form  of  the  famous  Dunlin  of 
Europe  and  is  a  thoroughly  good  table  bird 
and  a  good  and  wary  game  bird  when  shot  to 
any  extent  in  one  locality.  Commonly  a  bird 
of  the  seashore,  this  wanderer  from  the  north 
comes  to  the  lower  end  of  the  state  in  flocks 


364 


WESTERN  FIELD 


of  from  a  score  to  half  a  thousand — though  I 
can  recall  but  one  so  large  flock  as  the  latter 
number. 

Probably  most  beach  hunters  know  them  as 
"Lead  Hack."  rather  than  as  the  Red-backed 
Sandpiper.  The  birds  are  rapid  flyers  and 
when  on  the  wing  perform  some  of  the 
prettiest  evolutions  known  to  shorebird  flight. 
They  are  not  such  easy  targets  as  are  the 
dowitchers  or  the  least  sandpipers,  and  do  not 
decoy  so  readily.  Thus,  the  shooter  of  the 
Red-backs  will  find  he  has  his  hands  full 
to  pile  up  a  respectable  bag  in  an  afternoon's 
shooting. 

I  remember  shooting  these  Winter  Snipe 
one  day  in  December,  not  very  many  years 
ago,  on  the  beach  at  what  is  now  Naples. 
There  were  two  of  us  in  the  game,  the  surf 
was  running  high  and  hard,  and  the  wind  was 
a  gale,  blowing  in  off  the  sea  laden  with  salt- 
water pellets  that  cut  like  a  knife  where  they 
hit  one's  face. 

We  separated,  each  walking  something  like 
half  a  mile  from  the  point  of  separation 
along  the  beach,  refraining  from  shooting 
until     each     reached     an     agreed-upon    point. 


Turning  at  these  places  we  hunted  back 
toward  a  common  center,  thus  driving  the 
birds  back  and  forth  and,  at  the  same  time, 
retrieving  our  own  birds. 

The  plan  worked  admirably;  as  fast  as  a 
band  got  up  in  front  of  my  companion  his 
shots  drove  them  to  me  and  I  was  able  to 
collect  one  or  two  from  the  band  and  then 
return  them  to  him  by  entirely  changing 
their  line  of  flight.  When  we  met  for  the 
first  time,  he  had  nine  birds  and  I  had  seven, 
a  good  showing  for  shorebird  hunters  who 
used  neither  decoys  nor  calls,  and  who  kept 
moving  all  the  time.  During  the  afternoon 
we  picked  up  something  like  48  or  50  birds 
to  the  two  guns,  and  went  home  well  satisfied 
with  the  Red-backed  Sandpiper  as  a  game  bird. 

In  my  next  paper  I  shall  deal  with  the  two 
dozen  (or  thereabouts)  species  of  shorebirds 
which  I  have  not  touched  upon  as  yet,  but 
which  come  to  the  South  Coast  every  winter. 
It  is  impossible  to  treat  so  huge  a  family  as 
the  shorebirds  even  briefly  in  one  paper,  and 
I  have  been  compelled  to  abandon  my  plan  so 
to  do,  as  laid  out  when  these  papers  were 
commenced. 


THE  MOCKING  BIRD 


HERE    this    bird    of    birds    is    singing,    with    his    liquid    tones   a-ringing 
Through  the  vales  of  Persian  roses,  with  the  vine-wreaths  twining  roi 
I    can    hear    his    music    pouring   through    the    twilight    gently    low'ring 

Till   the   stars   come   out  to   listen   to   the  trilling,    fluting   sound; 
And   my    fancy's   vag'ries   dwelling   on   his    full    notes    fuller    swelling, 

Seem  to  take   me   from  the  present   to   some  fairy   realm  of  old, 
Some    fair   land    in    some    fresh    season    far    beyond   the    range    of    reason, 
Where   the    Oriental    oceans   bask   in    sunlight    bright    as   gold. 


There   on   banks   of   clouds   upbuilded,    with   their   gleaming   edges   gilded 

With   the   halo   mist   of   morning  o'er  a   hectic   flush  of  mere, 
Seems    my    dreamy    senses    leave    me — seems    their    beds    of    down  receive    r 

And  my   spirit   slips   its   fetters,    for   the   gods   are   calling   clear! 
Nectar  sweet,  with  ambrose,  sipping,  while  all  weary    cares    are    slipping 

With    the    deep-born    current    billows    to    the    shore    of    nothingness, 
Leaving    neither    pain    or    sorrow,    leaving    me    no    secret    morrow, 

While   I   dream   'mid   incense   burning,   dream    in   peace   and   blessedness. 


Trill,  thou  whole-souled  voice  of  passion,  breathed  with  neither  form  nor  fashion 

Trill,   thou   solitary    maker    of   the   woodland    melody; 
Filled  with  latent  love  and  power  in  the  early  ev'ning  hour, 

When    the   earth    is   joined    with    heaven    in   a   bond   of   harmony. 
Trill!      And    cease    not    in    thy    numbers    lest    my    scenes    of    fancied    slumb 

Like   the   dewdrops   of   illusion,    vanish    in   the   sun   of   truth; 
Keep    thy    master    music    teeming,    lest    I    waken    from    my    dreaming, 

Waken   from   Lethean   visions   but    to    find   the   real   and   ruth. 

—S.   A.    White. 


WINTERING  ON  THE  NOATAK 


By  T.  Raymond  Stahl 


HE  acquisition  of  this  inhospi- 
table and  barren  waste  would 
never  add  one  dollar  to  the 
wealth  of  our  country  or  fur- 
nish homes  to  our  people. 
To  suppose  that  anyone 
would  leave  the  mild  climate 
and  fruitful  soil  of  the 
United  States,  with  its  news- 
papers and  colleges,  its  rail- 
roads and  commerce,  its  civilization  and  refine- 
ments, to  seek  a  home  among  the  Aleuts,  is 
simply  to  suppose  such  a  person  insane",  were 
the  words  of  Representative  Loan  of  Missouri 
in  United  States  Congress  forty  years  ago,  at 
the  time  that  the  United  States  purchased  from 
Russia  this  vast  territory  of  Alaska.  Even  as 
late  as  ten  years  ago  a  man  prophesying  that 
from  Alaska,  then  deemed  a  barren  and  worth- 
less waste  of  rock  and  ice,  could  be  evolved 
the  conditions  that  now  exist  throughout  the 
greater  part  of  the  territory,  would  be  con- 
sidered unquestionably  demented. 

The  transition  from  the  days  of  Aleutian 
barbarism  to  American  civilization  has  been 
more  rapid  than  any  other  movement  re- 
corded   in   history.     The    Romans    of    old,   by 


their  prowess  in  battle  and  genius  of  organiza- 
tion, conquered  and  surrounded  themselves 
with  a  vast  colony  of  Romanized  citizens 
within  the  lapse  of  two"  centuries.  A  hundred 
years  passed  by  before  the  conquerers  of 
America  established  upon  this  continent 
civilized  conditions,  supplanting  the  customs 
and  superstitions  of  the  redskin  with  their 
own  refined  and  cultured  ideas.  Yet,  in  less 
time  than  Rome  needed  to  lay  the  foundations 
of  empire,  in  less  time  than  America  required 
to  reveal  her  coming  greatness,  Alaska  has 
evolved  from  the  dreaded  region  of  Arctic 
cold  and  barren  rock  to  the  Alaska  of  promise 
and  activity. 

Alaska  has  been  traduced,  depreciated,  and 
totally  misunderstood.  For  a  quarter  of  a 
century  it  has  been  regarded  as  a  worthless 
waste  of  unfruitful  country  and  frozen 
glaciers,  smoking  volcanoes  and  yawning  ice- 
crevices  bordered  by  the  snow-capped,  cloud- 
piercing  mountains  that  formed  an  almost  im- 
pregnable barrier  to  a  seemingly  heaven-cursed 
interior,  incapable  of  furnishing  homes  for 
civilized  people. 

Alaska  has  an  area  of  591,000  square  miles, 
in  round  numbers;  that  is  to  say,  is  as  large 


M*> 


WESTERN  FIELD 


'Alaska  is  not  all  snow  and  ice"    (Unimak  Island) 


as  all  the  United  States  east  of  the  Mississippi 
exclusive  of  the  four  states,  Alabama,  Georgia, 
Florida,  and  Mississippi.  It  requires  an  effort 
of  the  mind  to  grasp  the  significance  of  this 
great  expanse  of  territory  extending  from  the 
Arctic  Ocean  on  the  north  to  the  Hecate 
Straits  on  the  south,  from  the  Klondike  Region 
on  the  east  to  Behring  Sea  on  the  west. 

There  has  never  been  a  greater  crime  than 
the  dissemination  of  false  facts  among  one's 
fellowmen  and  criminals  of  this  type  are 
seemingly  abundantly  produced  upon  the 
return  of  many  voyagers  from  the  Circle.  The 
popular  idea  of  Alaska  is  a  misconception,  for 
there  is  nothing  that  can  impress  one  more 
forcibly  than  the  abundance  of  vegetation  and 
the  agricultural  advantages  that  this  land 
affords.  One  can  travel  from  one  end  of 
Alaska  to  the  other,  following  the  course  of 
the  Yukon  during  the  summer  time,  and  never 
see  snow.  The  things  that  one  does  see  are 
masses  of  flourishing  vegetation,  dense 
expanses  of  forests  and  such  fruit  as  the 
raspberry,  currant,  huckleberry,  and  cranberry 
in  profusion.  Tourists  are  to  a  great  extent 
responsible  for  the  misconception ;  for  one 
who  sees  Alaska  from  the  deck  of  an  ocean 
steamer    is    apt    to    be    unfavorably    impressed 


with  the  country's  possibilities.  The  coast  is 
everywhere  lined  with  lofty  mountains 
mantled  with  snow  and  ice.  Its  rugged,  cold, 
forbidding  appearance  is  enough  to  ca-use  the 
chills  to  run  down  the  back  of  the  most 
warm  blooded.  The  trouble  comes,  however, 
when  one  thinks  that  he  can  pass  judgment 
upon  the  whole  territory  when  he  has  skirted 
the  shores  in  a  steamer  from  Seattle  to  Sitka ; 
while  as  a  matter  of  fact,  he  has  seen  but  a 
very  minute  portion  of  the  real  country.  Upon 
his  return  home  his  friends  readily  absorb  his 
story,  in  the  end  agreeing  with  him  that 
Greenland  would  have  been  a  far  better 
purchase  than  Alaska. 

To  speak  understandingly  and  appreciatively 
about  our  great  Arctic  territory  one  must  see 
the  interior,  the  heart  of  the  country,  and 
not  until  he  has  accomplished  that,  can  he  pass 
judgment  upon  Alaska. 

The  Williams  party,  about  which  our  story 
treats,  had  the  good  fortune  to  view  Alaska 
from  almost  every  viewpoint  and  their  unani- 
mous opinion  of  the  country  is  that  it  is  indeed 
a  realm  of  opportunity — a  land  of  agricultural 
and  industrial  promise. 

Captain  Williams,  under  whose  supervision 
the  party  was  organized,  was  by  no  means  a 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


367 


novice  in  Arctic  travel.  Previous  to  the  time 
of  our  story,  he  had  spent  three  years  within 
the  Arctic  Circle,  exploring  and  prospecting. 
During  his  stay  in  Alaska  he  had  investigated 
its  mineral  resources  and  agricultural  advan- 
tages, returning  with  a  goodly  amount  of  gold 
and  silver  as  well  as  obtaining  an  abundance 
of  valuable  information  about  the  country.  So 
enthusiastic  was  Williams  over  the  possibili- 
ties of  Alaskan  life  that  he  at  once  organized  a 
party  of  eight,  consisting  of  himself  and  wife, 
George  Tarrant  and  wife,  William  Bengamin, 
George  Taggert,  Malcom  Fay,  and  a  Mr. 
Keith,  and  on  the  6th  of  July,  1902,  the  party 
set  sail  from  Seattle  for  Teller,  Port  Clarence, 
on  the  steamer  Centennial.  Their  real  destina- 
tion was  the  Noatak  river,  one  of  Alaska's 
most  beautiful  streams,  at  whose  head  waters 
Capt.  Williams  had  prospected  with  great  suc- 
cess upon  his  previous  trips.  In  order  to 
ascend  the  Noatak,  the  party  had  taken  a 
steamer  in  "knock-down"  form  which  they 
would  assemble  at  Teller,  and  from  there  in 
the  steamer  make  their  way  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Noatak.  Eight  horses  were  taken  from 
Seattle  as  well  as  several  thousand  dollars 
worth  of  groceries  and  supplies. 

It  was  an  ideal  July  day  that  marked  their 
departure,  a  most  favorable  premonition  for 
the  voyage.  Scores  of  relatives,  friends,  and 
curious  ones  lined  the  wharves  to  bid  the  good 
ship  Centennial  "bon  voyage"  as  she  headed  for 
the  Straits  of  Fuca. 

In  a  few  hours  Vancouver  sank  beneath  the 
horizon  and  the  party  then  began  to  realize 
that  the  voyage  was  actually  begun.  The 
steamer  followed  the  "old  mail  route"  from 
Seattle  until  within  a  few  miles  of  Fox  Island, 
when  she  turned  to  the  starboard  and  headed 
for  the  famous  Unimak  Pass  which  separates 
Unimak  Island  and  Akun  Island. 

A  heavy  fog.  had  gathered  over  the  surface 
of  the  ocean,  so  dense  that  it  was  impossible 
for  the  pilot  to  see  distinctly  a  hundred  feet 
ahead.  The  ship  slowed  down,  finally  casting 
anchor  in  the  straits.  On  either  side  could  be 
heard  the  breakers  battling  with  the  sides  of 
the  cliff-bordered  islands,  but  the  cliffs  them- 
selves were  hidden  behind  the  curtain  of  fog. 
The  Centennial  lay  at  anchor  thus  enveloped 
for  eight  hours.  At  9  o'clock  on  the  day 
following,  the  fog  clouds  began  to  dissemble 
and  the  sun  rays,  like  darts  of  fire,  pierced  the 
vapory  shroud  and  played  upon  the  rocks  and 
waters.     Slowly,    gradually,    the    palisade-like 


sides  of  the  i'ass  revealed  themselves  through 
the  vanishing  mist  until  all  aboard  burst  forth 
into  a  cry  of  admiration  at  the  wonderful  sight 
presented  to  view. 

On  the  starboard  side  the  cliffs  raised  them- 
selves to  an  altitude  of  several  hundred  feet, 
resplendent  with  colorings,  orange,  purple, 
saffron,  crimson,  greens  galore,  varied  as  the 
colors  of  the  spectrum,  gaudy  as  the  armorial 
bearings  of  a  European  king,  dazzling  under 
the  golden  sunbeams.  It  was  Superior's 
pictured  rocks  transported  to  Alaska.  Sur- 
mounting the  rock  wall  on  the  Unimak  side 
a  tall  grey  mountain  peak  slowly  rolled  forth 
a  cloud  of  bluish  smoke  that  hovered  over 
the  crest  like  an  eagle  over  her  eyrie.  A 
ring  of  vapor  circled  around  the  volcano's 
base  and,  gradually  unwinding  itself,  vanished 
behind  the  cliff  and  out  of  sight.  The  deeply 
furrowed  sides  of  the  mountain,  worn  smooth 
by  glacial  and  volcanic  action,  glistened  in  the 
sunlight,  making  the  peak  look  more  like  an 
immense  uncut  jewel  projecting  out  from  the 
cliff  tops  than  a  volcano — for  this  was  Po- 
grumnol,  the  famous  smoking  mountain  of  the 
Aleutian  Islands. 

This  picture  will  always  be  impressed  upon 
the  memory  of  the  voyager  as  one  of  Alaska's 
most  beautiful  natural  wonders.  Pogrumnol 
and  the  Unimak  cliffs  can  be  appreciated  far 
more  if  the  Nome-bound  traveller  first  finds 
them  hidden  by  the  curtain  of  Behring  fog  and 
awaits  their  appearance  through  the  sun-dis- 
pelled veil. 

As  the  Centennial  heaved  anchor  and  steamed 
on  her  course  for  Nome,  all  eyes  were  fastened 
upon  the  isle  of  Unimak  until  the  last  blue 
smoke  hanging  over  the  volcano's  crater  was 
hidden  by  the  meeting  of  sky  and  water. 

After  an  uneventful  Behring  Sea  voyage  of 
two  and  a  half  days,  having  seen  land  but 
twice — Cape  Mohican  on  Nunivak  Island  and 
the  Punuk  Isles,  off  the  Island  of  St.  Law- 
rence— they  anchored  in  Norton  Sound  near 
Cape  Nome,  and  those  passengers  that  desired 
landing  were  "lightered"  to  the  mainland  to- 
gether with  their  baggage.  The  coast  of 
Alaska  at  this  point  is  so  treacherous  that 
landing  is  impossible,  and  every  thing  is 
carried  ashore  in  large  boats  called  "lighters" 
especially  adapted  to  battling  breakers.  In 
some  lands  the  lighter  consists  of  a  small 
staunch  canoe-like  craft  poled  ashore  by  the 
natives ;  but  in  Alaska  the  signs  of  civilization 
are  highly  in  evidence,  the  lighters  consisting 


368 


WESTERN  FIELD 


of  large  heavily  built  boats,  scow-shaped,  that 
are  towed  about  by  steam  ocean  tugs.  It 
requires  a  cool  head  and  a  steady  hand  to 
become  an  expert  "lighterman",  for  often- 
times valuable  cargoes  are  intrusted  to  these 
boatmen  and  the  breaking  of  the  tow-line,  or 
mismanagement  of  the  scow,  causing  it  to 
dash  upon  the  reefs  that  abound  on  Alaska's 
coasts,  will  mean  the  breaking  up  of  some 
prospecting  party,  for  all  supplies  are  carried 
from  Seattle.  The  "lighterman"  is  therefore 
an  actual  necessity  in  Alaskan  life,  and  because 
of  the  responsibility  of  his  position  can  demand 
the  most  arbitrary  wages. 

Along  with  these  "lighters"  paddled  scores  of 
natives  in  their  Omiaks  (large  canoes)  and 
kiaks  (small  canoes)  desirous  of  exchanging 
furs  and  fish  for  trinkets  and  sugar.  Kup-si- 
tuk  (sugar)  is  greatly  prized  by  the  Esquimaux 
of  North  America,  especially  in  Alaska;  and  if 
there  is  anything  that  they  possess  that  you 
are  desirous  of  securing,  kup-si-tuk  will 
purchase  it  where  other  things  fail.  These 
were  the  first  natives  that  the  Centennial  en- 
countered. 

When  all  the  Nome  passengers  and  freight- 
age had  been  taken  ashore,  the  steamer  lifted 
anchor  and  steamed  northward  for  Teller  on 
Port  Clarence.  The  20th  of  July  witnessed  her 
anchorage  in  the  bay  off  Teller.  It  took  about 
a  day  and  a  half  to  "lighter  off"  the  supplies 
and  equipment  of  the  Williams  party,  so  that 
by  the  22d  of  July  their  Alaskan  life  had 
actually  begun.  The  men  at  once  unpacked  the 
steamer  parts  preparatory  to  its  construction. 
A  large  space  was  cleared  on  the  beach  for 
the  purpose  of  building  the  craft.  On  the  24th 
her  keel  was  laid.  All  the  ribs,  planking,  skeg. 
gunwales,  decking,  etc.,  had  been  cut  and  fitted 
at  Seattle  so  the  work  merely  consisted  in  put- 
ting the  pieces  in  their  proper  places.  By  the 
1st  of  August  the  frame  work  of  the  hull  was 
nearly  finished  and  what  was  once  a  heap  of 
ribs  and  planks  began  to  assume  the  shape 
of  a  boat.  The  steamer  was  to  be  one 
hundred  feet  in  length  over  all  and  was  to 
have  an  eight  foot  beam.  Her  motive  power 
was  to  be  supplied  by  a  seventy-five  horse- 
power steam  engine  driving  a  nine  foot  stern 
paddle-wheel.  Sliding  easily  along  on  greased 
skids,  the  "Cabalona"  (white-man) — this  was 
the  name  of  the  craft — was  launched  into  the 
Bay  of  Clarence,  August  27.  She  rode  the 
waves  like  a  sea-nymph  and  the  men  were  more 
than  pleased  with  their  marine  production.     Her 


first  speed  trial  was  made  the  following  day 
and  the  Cabalona  against  a  moderate  wind  and 
sea  made  seven  miles  an  hour.  The  next  three 
days  were  occupied  in  the  stowing  of  supplies 
and  accoutrements  aboard,  the  steamer  was 
so  built  that  the  entire  hull  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  small  sleeping  space  tould  be  used 
for  freight  and  the  horses.  She  was  fitted  with 
a  canopy  top,  while  canvas  side  curtains, 
dropped  from  the  top  and  fastened  with  brass 
cleats,  excluded  all  rain  and  spray  from  the 
steamer's  interior.  The  steering  of  the  craft 
was  operated  from  the  roof  of  the  canopy  top 
where  a  pilot's  bridge   was   constructed. 

On  the  first  day  of  September,  1902,  with 
Capt.  Williams  at  the  Cabalona's  wheel,  the 
party  steamed  out  of  Port  Clarence  up  the  west 
coast  to  Noatak.  They  disliked  very  much 
the  idea  of  leaving  Teller,  for  the  weather  had 
been  ideal  during  the  entire  stay.  In  spite  of 
the  fact  that  the  Arctic  Circle  was  but  a  few 
score  miles  distant,  the  weather  conditions 
were  those  of  Michigan  and  Wisconsin  of  the 
Temperate  Zone.  One  could  not  believe  that 
such  clear  atmosphere,  such  balmy  weather,  such 
an  abundance  of  plant  life,  such  a  profusion 
of  wild  flowers  and  berries  could  exist  in 
Alaska,  had  he  not  seen  them  with  his  own 
eyes  and  appreciated  them  with  his  own  senses. 
The  magazines  and  periodicals  of  his  home 
land  had  impressed  him  with  the  coldness,  the 
dreariness,  the  uselessness  of  our  Russian 
purchase,  and  now  to  behold  these  unexpected, 
unreported  beauties,  these  advantageous  condi- 
tions in  Alaska  made  him  wonder  who  was  at 
fault,  the  magazine  writer  or  the  country? 
Certainly  not  the  country ;  for  with  his  own 
eyes  he  beheld  our  Arctic  possession  as  it 
really  was.  The  magazine  writer  had 
apparently  seen  the  country  from  the  coast, 
and  from  that  viewpoint  had  passed  criticism 
on  the  whole  country.  There  is- nothing  of  the 
ice-bound  or  frozen  in  Alaska's  interior  during 
the  summer.  When  it  is  viewed  from  that 
standpoint  a  great  change  overcomes  one's 
first  opinion  of  the  land.  There  lies  a  warm, 
responsive  soil  behind  the  cold  forbidding 
mountains  that  form  the  land's  frontier,  soil 
as  fertile  as  the  wheat  fields  of  Minnesota, 
soil  which  if  properly  nurtured  will  bristle  with 
rustling  corn  and  waving  wheat,  soil  that  can 
produce  farm  products  to  feed  a  million.  The 
first  great  agricultural  trek  to  the  Arctic  will 
bear  witness  to  these  words  of  appreciation 
for  Alaska. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


369 


Behring  Sea  was  in  a  calm  when  the  Cab- 
alona  left  Port  Clarence;  no  perceptible  breeze 
was  blowing,  not  a  ripple  disturbed  the  waters, 
the  cries  of  the  sea  gulls  could  be  heard  dis- 


thc  Diomede   Isles  in   Behring  Strait  just  off 
Cape  Prince  of  Wales. 

The  wind  was  slowly  waxing  in  force,  and 
moderately   sized   waves   were   beating  against 


Canon  at  the  Head  of  the  Noatak 


tinctly  as  they  swooped  over  the  ship  and 
hastened  back  to  their  homes  on  the  cliffs. 
This  favorable  condition  of  sea  and  wind  lasted 
until  the  steamer  was  within  forty  miles  from 


the  steamer's  sidas  as  she  headed  for  the  Cape. 

On     his     previous     trip,     the     year     before, 

Williams    left    supplies    and    luggage    at    Cape 

Prince  of  Wales  in  the  care  of  the  Presbyterian 


370 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Waterfall  on   the  Xoatak 

missionary  with  the  intention  of  securing  them 
when  the  party  came  up  the  following  fall. 
He,  consequently,  anchored  off  the  point  upon 
which  the  mission  was  located  and  fired  a 
signal  gun.  A  white  flag  being  hoisted  on  the 
station  signal  staff,  the  steamer's  whale-boat 
was  lowered  and  Williams,  Tarrent,  and  Keith 
went  ashore  to  secure  the  goods,  returning 
in  about  an  hour  and  a  half. 

Meanwhile,  the  sea  breezes  had  increased 
considerably  in  velocity  and  the  Straits  were 
tossing  with  foaming  white-caps.  A  heavy  pitch- 
black  cloud  rising  seemingly  from  the  Siberian 
coast  was  slowly  creeping  across  the  sky, 
casting  a  darkening  shadow  over  the  waters. 
The  sun,  previously  like  a  disk  of  gold,  dropped 
behind  the  pall  of  black  cloud  and  was  gone. 
The  breakers  dashed  tumultuously  against  the 
rock-bound    Cape ;    above    the    din    could    be 


heard  the  rumblings  and  rollings  of  distant 
thunder,  while  across  the  Alaskan  sky  leaped 
tin-  lightning  flashes.  The  Cabalona  had  un- 
expectedly  encountered  an  Arctic  storm.  With- 
in an  hour  the  storm  had  reached  its  full  in- 
tensity. The  cannonade  of  heaven  echoed 
from  cliff  to  cliff;  here  and  there  the  skies 
m  i'  semingly  rent  asunder,  opening  to  view 
a  realm  of  brightness  beyond.  A  single  flash 
with  the  force  of  a  meteorite  smote  the  cliff, 
hurling  into  the  sea  masses  of  rock,  which 
under  ordinary  conditions  would  have  caused 
great  commotion,  but  which  now  lost  their 
force  in  the  tumult  of  the  hurricane.  Rain 
in  torrents  b'eat  down  upon  the  steamer  and 
great  waves  crested  with  spray  threw  their 
volumes  of  briny  water  over  the  Cabalona's 
decks.  Already  she  had  dragged  anchor,  her 
engines  were  powerless;  at  the  mercy  of  the 
Behring  storm  she  helplessly  drifted  south- 
ward. All  day  the  sea  gulls  screeched  amid 
the  fury  of  the  wind  and  wave,  while  the 
cries  of  the  seals  and  sea-lions — human  in 
sound — were  heard  during  cessations  in  the 
battle  of  the  elements. 

Williams  endeavored  to  get  behind  the 
Diomede  Isles  for  protection,  but  the  waves, 
too  high  and  powerful,  prevented  him  from 
accomplishing  his  end;  had  he  persisted  in 
steaming  against  them  the  Cabalona  would 
have  been  swamped. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  ship  had  drifted 
out  of  the  main  storm  path,  but  she  was 
totally  disabled ;  her  engines  refused  to  turn 
over;  the  salt  water  had  leaked  through  the 
seams  in  the  side  curtains,  saturating  all  the 
provisions  and  supplies.  Loads  of  luggage  were 
thrown  overboard  to  lighten  the  ship  so  that 
she  would  ride  the  waves  easier.  The  engines 
being  useless,  the  only  means  of  reaching  land 
for  repairs  was  to  rig  up  sails  on  the  cabin 
top  and  head  for  the  east.  They  had  no  idea 
where  they  were;  the  storm  had  so  deranged 
their  bearings  that  sole  salvation  lay  in  the 
exactness  of  the  compass.  Rude  sails  were 
hoisted  on  deck  and  the  Cabalona  was  turned 
eastward.  By  that  time  the  fury  of  the  squall 
had  subsided,  the  sky  was  clearing  and  the 
sun  almost  at  setting  point  emerged  from  the 
fleeting  clouds.  A  peculiar  yellowish  haze  was 
cast  over  the  sea  as  if  a  powerful  calcium 
light  had  been  directed  upon  the  waters,  while 
to  the  south  arched  an  immense  rainbow 
dappled  with  coloring.  This  beautiful  sky- 
picture    lasted    until    the    sun    sank    into    the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


371 


distant  Strait  and  the  last  flash  of  crimson 
light  decked  the  horizon. 

After  twenty-four  hours  of  snail-like  mov- 
ing under  the  flimsily  erected  sails,  the  party 
could  see  what  they  thought  were  the  lights  of 
Nome.  The  Cabalona's  course  was  directed  to 
where  Sledge  Island  would  be,  were  these 
Nome's  lights  and  after  a  sixteen  hour  run  the 
steamer  was  anchored  off  Sledge  Island  for 
repairs.  The  stack  had  blown  down  and  the 
engines  needed  a  thorough  overhauling.  The 
men  at  once  went  to  work  on  the  machinery, 
the  women  cleaning  out  the  boat's  interior.  It 
took  two  days  to  put  the  ship  in  shape  and 
not  until  detailed  inspection  had  pronounced 
her  in  first  class  condition  did  the  party  heave 
anchor  and  depart  from  Sledge  Island,  for 
Cape  Prince  of  Wales.  As  she  passed  the 
mission  point  for  a  second  time  the  missionary 
waved  a  white  flag  in  salute  and  signaled, 
asking  if  all  was  well. 

In  two  hours  the  ship  was  in  the  Arctic 
Ocean  en  route  for  the  mouth  of  the  Noatak. 
A  five  days  calm  sailing  in  Kotzebue  Sound 
found  the  Cabalona  anchored  off  Cape  Blossom 
for  supplies.  An  abundance  of  clothing  was 
secured  from  the  mission  station  at  this  point. 
We  might  say,  in  passing,  that  were  it  not 
for  the  mission  stations  which  serve  the  double 
purpose  of  converting  the  Esquimaux  and 
furnishing  the  needy  with  supplies,  many  pros- 
pecting parties  would  be  broken  up  before 
reaching  the  Noatak's  mouth.  The  Alaskan 
mission  stations  are  as  important  to  the  Arctic 
traveller  as  the  cities  of  refuge  were  to  the 
ancient  Hebrews.  The  main  source  of  supply 
for  the  missionary  is  the  native  who  brings 
furs  and  other  necessities  to  the  station  in 
exchange  for  trinkets  and  sugar. 

The  Cabalona  was  piloted  through  the  shoals 
and  banks  that  form  a  breakwater  at  the 
Noatak's  mouth  and  headed  up  the  river. 
The  Noatak  is  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile 
in  width  where  it  empties  into  the  sea,  being 
bordered  by  low  sandy  shores,  densely  spruced, 
that  extend  for  several  miles  up  the  river. 
Here  the  banks  assume  a  more  rocky  form, 
raising  themselves  to  precipitous  heights  like 
the  Palisades  of  the  Hudson,  through  which 
the  stream  cuts  and  washes.  This  is  the  first 
canon   of   the    Noatak. 

The  rapid  flowing  waters  of  the  river  are  as 
clear  as  crystal — a  striking  .characteristic  of  the 
majority  of  Alaskan  streams — the  bottom  be- 
ing  everywhere    visible,    flecked    with    salmon 


and  grayling  gliding  over  sand  and  pebble 
patches. 

Seventy  miles  up  stream  two  log  cabins 
could  be  seen  through  the  Cottonwood  trees 
that  bordered  the  west  bank  of  the  river.  The 
Cabalona  was  run  as  near  shore  as  possible 
and  anchored  at  the  mouth  of  a  bordering 
slough ;  the  men  went  ashore  in  a  whale  boat, 
carrying  a  heavy  cable,  one  end  of  which  was 
fastened  to  the  steamer's  bow,  the  other  to  a 
large  spruce  a  few  yards  from  the  water's 
edge.  Upon  investigation  it  was  found  that 
the  huts  were  forsaken  so  the  women  were 
given  one,  the  men  taking  the  other.  It  took 
some  time  to  unload  the  steamer,  for  as  fast 
as  the  freightage  was  removed  from  the  boat 
it  was  placed  in  a  permanent  place.  The  stack 
was  taken  ashore  and  from  it  was  fashioned  a 
large  fireplace  for  the  ladies'  cabin.  The  men 
at  once  set  to  work  building  a  large  log  hut 
to  accomodate  the  horses.  By  the  13th  of 
October  the  party  was  comfortably  settled  in 
the  cabins,  the  Cabalona  beached  high  and 
dry,  and  all  preparations  made  for  the 
approaching  winter. 

The  winter  was  by  no  means  as  severe  as 
the  party  anticipated  it  would  be.  The 
splendid  opportunities  for  fishing  and  hunting, 
the  abundance  of  fish  and  game,  together  with 
the  chance  to  study  Esquimaux  life  made  the 
winter  pass  exceedingly  fast. 

The  horses  caused  considerable  consternation 
among  the  natives  when  they  first  beheld  the 
animals  and  it  took  some  time  for  them  to 
become  accustomed  to  the  tu-tu,  as  they  called 
the  horses.  The  Esquimaux  were  very  hos- 
pitable and  friendly,  coming  to  the  log  huts — 
"Cabalona's  Rest" — every  day  bringing  fish 
and  furs  in  order  to  secure  sugar,  hardtack 
and  soap.  The  native's  fondness  for  kup-si- 
tuk  has  been  referred  to  before,  but 
he  has  the  same  regard  for  hardtack 
and  soap,  especially  the  latter.  He  greatly 
enjoys  lathering  himself  with  the  white  suds, 
thinking  that  it  will  make  him  look  like  the 
Ca-ba-lo-na  (white  man).  The  Alaskan 
Esquimaux  is  a  great  lover  and  admirer  of 
personal  cleanliness.  The  general  impression 
given  one  by  the  first  sight  of  the  Alaskan 
native  is  that  he  is  a  dirty,  greasy  creature, 
caring  little  or  nothing  about  keeping  clean. 
The  Williams  party,  however,  found  the 
reverse  to  be  true ;  viz,  that  if  opportunities 
for  washing  are  offered  the  Esquimaux  he 
takes  great  pride  in  keeping  clean,  exactly  as 


372 


IVESTERh    I  li  I. li 


Xoatak   in    Spring    Flood 


much  so  as  his  white  brother — oftentimes 
more  so,  for  many  of  the  prospectors  that  one 
meets  in  the  interior  of  Alaska  look  as  if 
soap  and  water  were  unknown  substances  to 
them. 

The  Esquimaux  is  scrupulously  honest  and 
he  expects  the  white  man  to  be  so  in  return. 
As  a  striking  example  of  the  uprightness  of 
the  Alaskan  native  let  me  cite  the  following ; 
One  Saturday  morning  Williams,  Keith  and 
Fay  went  out  on  a  hunting  expedition  across 
country.  On  the  way  out  Fay  accidentally 
dropped  his  handkerchief,  a  gaudy  affair,  and 
did  not  miss  it  until  some  hours  afterwards. 
While  he  was  away,  an  Esquimaux  happened 
along  and  seeing  the  handkerchief,  instead  of 
stuffing  in  into  his  pocket  as  thousands  of 
white  men  would  have  done,  he  found  a  stone 
and  taking  the  handkerchief  by  the  corner 
weighted  it  down  with  the  stone  so  that  its 
owner  would  find  it  in  case  he  came  back 
that  way — which  Fay  did.  This  is  but  a 
single  instance ;  scores  of  them  occurred  during 
the  winter  each  revealing  the  integrity  of  the 
Esquimaux. 

The  natives  showed  the  men  the  most 
efficient  way  of  catching  fish  and  game,  so  that 
the     table     was     constantly     supplied      with 


ptarmigan,  geese,  ducks,  salmon,  trout,  grayling 
and  other  fish  and  fowl.  Rabbits  were  captured 
by  traps  called  dead-falls,  very  similar  to  the 
dead-falls  used  by  the  American  trapper. 
Ptarmigan,  geese  and  ducks  were  plentiful 
during  breeding  days,  for  at  that  time  thous- 
ands of  them  would  come  out  and  sun  them- 
selves upon  the  cliffs,  so  that  one  man  under 
the  protection  of  movable  snow  houses  for 
"blinds"  could  kill  as  many  as  forty  birds  in 
a  half  hour  with  a  Winchester.  The  fish  were 
obtained  by  various  methods,  some  with  nets, 
others  with  lines  and  hooks  fashioned  out  of 
whalebone.  Since  there  were  no  canning 
factories  in  Alaska  the  natives  dried  all  the 
fish  for  southern  shipment.  Many  varieties 
of  these  dried  fish  were  secured  from  the 
Esquimaux  in  exchange  for  soap  and  sugar. 

The  regular  weekly  bill  of  fare  as  regards 
meat  was  something  along  this  line ;  Sunday — 
Ptarmigan  breasts,  fried  :  Monday — Ptarmigan, 
stewed :  Tuesday — Fish  :  Wednesday — Rabbit : 
Thursday — Ptarmigan  :  Friday — Fish  :  Satur- 
day— Rabbit.  Caribou  meat,  when  procurable 
was  generally  reserved  until  some  day  of 
celebration. 

The  home  of  the  Esquimaux  is  a  very 
unique    form   of   residence.     It    resembles   the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


373 


Indian  wigwam  in  that  it  is  constructed  on 
poles  stuck  upright  in  the  ground  so  as  to 
form  a  circle  over  which  is  stretched  tough 
hides.  Afterwards,  sand,  snow  and  ice  are 
packed  around  the  house  of  skins  to  assure 
warmth  and  solidity.  At  the  top  is  left  a 
hole  about  three  feet  in  diameter  over  which 
is  stretched  the  intestine  of  some  large  animal; 
this  gut  is  partly  transparent  and  allows  a 
moderate  amount  of  light  to  penetrate  the 
hut's  interior.  The  form  of  the  finished 
igloe  resembles  a  tea-cup  turned  upside 
down.  The  floor  of  the  home  is  below  the 
ground  level  as  the  igloe  is  raised  over  a 
hole  in  the  earth,  the  only  entrance  being  a 
small  door  so  low  that  one  must  kneel  to 
enter.  The  interior  consists  of  a  single  room 
which  is  used  interchangeably  for  cooking, 
eating,  and  sleeping.  Numerous  shelves  serve 
the  purpose  of  cupboards  and  pantry.  In  the 
center  of  the  room  is  a  low  stationary  table 
around  which  the  family — seldom  very  large — ■ 
sit  and  eat  their  staple  meal  of  fish  and  seal- 
oil. 

It  is  said  that  in  the  poorer  districts  of 
Ireland  the  peasants  hung  a  large  fish  in  the 
center  of  the  table ;  each  one  of  the  family 
taking  a  potato  from  the  dish  would  point  it 
at  the  fish  and  then  eat  it.  This  fare  was 
called  "potatoes  and  point".  The  Esquimaux, 
however,  actually  dipped  the  fish  into  the  seal 
oil  and  then  ate  it.  Fish  when  eaten  by  the 
native  is  very  rarely  cooked,  raw  meat  being 
much  preferred.  The  Alaskan  is  not  very 
refined  in  the  act  of  eating,  a  dinner  resem- 
bling in  sound  the  action  of  a  suction  pump. 
When  bed-time  arrives  the  family  or  families, 
as  the  case  may  be  all  lie  on  the  floor  of  the 
igloe,  their  heads  toward  the  wall,  their 
feet  in  the  center,  forming  a  complete  circle; 
as  many  as  ten  and  twelve  people  have  lived 
in  one  of  these  small  huts. 

The  besetting  sin  of  the  Esquimaux  is  the 
crime  of  adultery,  but  through  the  refining  work 
and  influence  of  the  missionaries  this  evil  is 
being  gradually  wiped  out.  The  native  dance 
is  very  much  like  the  oriental  houtche-coutche 
— the  bane  of  the  harem ;  because  of  its  vulgar 
and  degrading  character  it  has  been  forbidden 
by  the  missions.  At  present  not  even  kup-si- 
tuk  can  induce  the  native  to  perform  his  or  her 
dance.  "Missionary  no  want  us  dance,"  is  the 
only  response  received. 

The  native  ag-an-ok  (woman)  carries  her 
mik-in-in-ie   (baby)   very  much  like  the  squaw 


of  the  American  Indian,  the  child  being  placed 
in  a  pocket  of  warm  fur  and  carried  in  the 
back  of  the  mother's  fur  coat.  Reindeer  milk  is 
the  principal  food  for  infant  sustenance  in  the 
Arctic  zone,  but  when  a  milk  famine  occurs  the 
Esquimaux  mother  has  a  very  unique  way  of 
nourishing  her  babe.  A  small  bag  of  deer-skin 
is  made  resembling  the  army  canteen  in  shape 
but  a  trifle  larger  in  size ;  into  this  skin-bag 
is  placed  a  mushy  preparation  of  raw  fish  and 
seal  oil  mortared  to  a  pulp-like  condition 
between  two  rocks.  The  end  of  this  bag  is 
slit  open  and  the  infant  sucks  this  slotted  end, 
enjoying  the  raw  fish  as  much  as  an  American 
baby  enjoys  its  bottle. 

By  January  20  the  suk-in-ik  (sun)  was  seen 
but  a  half  hour  each  day,  for  this  was  the 
climax  of  the  period  of  long  nights,  the 
season  that  the  seal-oil  lamp  with  its  wick  of 
moss  saw  extensive  service. 

May  18,  Tarrant,  Taggart,  and  Keith  left 
Cabalona's  Rest  for  the  heart  of  the  country, 
taking  with  them  three  horses  and  an 
abundance  of  provisions.  The  oats  and  other 
provender  carried  from  Seattle  had  been  so 
brine-soaked  in  the  storm  that  they  were 
getting  musty.  With  the  exception  of  a  small 
supply  of  moss  and  lichens  taken  from  the 
rocks  it  was  the  only  feed  the  party  could 
secure  for  the  horses,  and  rather  than  have 
the  animals  starve  the  spoiled  grain  was  given 
them.  A  skin  disease,  brought  on  by  the  eat- 
ing of  the  decaying  feed,  broke  out  among  the 
three  taken  into  the  interior  and  they  died 
after  a  week's  tramp  toward  Mt.  Kelley.  The 
men  struck  a  valuable  gold  vein  south  of  the 
foothills  that  skirted  Mt.  Kelley's  base,  and 
were  employed  in  staking  out  a  claim  when 
Keith,  who  was  a  very  portly  man,  succumbed 
to  dropsy.  His  body  after  being  wrapped  in 
canvas  and  blankets  was  lifted  up  from  the 
ground  on  two  poles  crotched  about  ten  feet 
from  the  earth  in  order  to  prevent  the  wild 
beasts  from  destroying  it.  This  is  the  native 
way  of  disposing  of  corpses.  Tarrant  and 
Taggert  after  finishing  staking  made  their 
way  back  to  the  cabins  down  the  Noatak  with 
a  dog  team  purchased  from  the  natives. 

The  country  by  this  time  began  to  assume 
the  habit  of  spring — and  no  sight  is  more 
welcome  to  the  Alaskan  prospector  than  the 
passing  of  the  snow  and  ice.  Mantles  of 
redolent  sweet  peas,  variegated  in  colorings, 
were  thrown  over  the  hills  in  their  wild,  un- 
cultured  abundance.    The    tundras    (swamps) 


374 


IVESTERX  FIELD 


,,::. ,   more  burst  forth  into  toli  ig 

fruit,  while  the  spruce  trees  assumed  a  more 

pro  of  g I  he  « tiffs  redoubled  their 

coverings  of  lichens;  here  and  there  black, 
strange!}  formed  rocks  jutted  from  the  cm- 
bankment  of  moss  like  the  gargoyles  on  the 
cathedral  of  Notre  Dame;  mountain 
dashing  over  and  around  the  boulders  inter- 
wovi  themselves  among  the  hillocks  and 
passed  on  and  into  the  Noatak;  the  marshes 
rose  almost  to  the  tundras'  nigger-heads— 
resplendent  with  the  treasured  cranberry  and 
currant,  while  over  their  muddy  waters 
hovered  myriads  of  gnats  and  mosquitoes — the 
insect  pests  of  the  Arctic  summer. 

The  Noatak,  which  had  been  ice-bound  all 
winter,  was  gradually  breaking  up  and  by  the 
middle  of  June  had  assumed  its  most  glacial 
aspect.  The  river  had  risen  extensively 
because  of  the  spring  thaws  and  mountain 
freshets  .that  poured  into  it  on  its  down- 
ward course  to  the  sea.  Opposite  Cabalona's 
Rest  the  ice  was  jammed — yes  piled,  cake  upon 
cake,  berg  upon  berg,  until  it  formed  an 
immense  barricade  of  crystal  lofty  as  the  tower 
of  Trinity  Church.  Pinnacles  of  ice  tottering 
under  the  movement  of  the  river  swayed  back 
and  forth,  at  last  falling  with  a  resounding 
crash  against  the  rocks.  Boulders,  timbers,  and 
ice   grinding  one  against   the  other  were  cast 


up  by  the  stream  as  if  spewed  furth  by  the 
river  god;  then  descending,  floated  a  pulp-like 
mass  oceanward.  The  action  was  never  twice 
alike.  The  waters  would  How  along  quietly  for 
a  few  minutes,  then  with  no  apparent  cause 
would  unheave  and  cast  out  waves  from  their 
depths,  and  grind  and  crash  and  groan.  It 
seemed  as  if  Noatak  were  a  creature,  teeming 
with  life,  a  creature  of  the  wild,  untamed,  un- 
restricted. The  river-bends  were  jamming 
with  the  rush  of  ice  and  wailing  beneath  the 
water's  surges.  By  the  first  of  July,  the  "June 
rise"  was  off  and  the  stream  was  the  same 
crystal  Noatak  that  greeted  the  party  the 
previous   autumn. 

As  soon  as  the  ground  was  softened  and  the 
last  traces  of  frost  had  disappeared,  the  women 
turned  the  earth  behind  the  cabins  and  planted 
radishes,  lettuce,  beans,  carrots,  and  almost 
every  common  garden  vegetable.  In  two  weeks 
the  table  was  laden  with  sweet,  crisp  radishes 
with  their  glistening  coats  of  carmine,  tender 
leaves  of  lettuce,  and  carrots  and  beets  galore; 
other  vegetables  followed  in  abundance. 
Alaska  proved  to  be  as  fruitful  as  the  virgin 
soil  of  Caanan.  Think  of  it!  Raising  radishes 
and  lettuce  as  large  and  tender  as  the  products 
of  the  hot-house.  150  miles  north  of  the  Arctic 
Circle ! 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


375 


WESTERN  FIELD 

The  Sportsman's  Magazine  of  the  West 

official  organ 
The  California  Fish  and  Game  Pro- 
tective   Associations 

PUBLISHED   MONTHLY   BY 

THE  WESTERN  FIELD  COMPANY 

(incorporated) 
SAN  FRANCISCO.  CAL. 

Offices.- 

609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 

Registered  at  the  San   Francisco  Po.stoffice  as  Second- 
Class  Matter 


FRANK  H.  MAYER 


Managing  Editor 


Matter  for  publication  should  be  addressed  "WEST- 
ERN FIELD."  60*610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
San  Francisco.  Cal..  and  not  to  individuals  connected 
with  the  magazine.  All  copy  for  new  advertisements, 
changes  or  discontinuances,  must  be  in  hand  not  later 
than  the  10th  of  the  month  preceding  date  of  issue,  in 
order  to  insure  attention. 


FOR  A  NON-SALE  LAW. 
In  the  name  of  the  People  of  California  we  <le 
mand  at  the  hands  of  our  Legislature,  at  its  next 
session,  the  enactment  and  embodiment  in  our  game 
law  of  a  statntory  clause  prohibiting  the  sale  in 
this  State  of  any  game  bird  of  any  description  what- 
soever, and  fixing  a  commensurate  penalty  for  any 
violation  thereof. 


THE  SILVER  LINING 

IN  THESE  troubulous  times  of  financial 
'  unsteadiness  it  is  a  comfort  to  know 
that  if  legal  tender  is  a  bit  shy,  ducks, 
quail,  steelheads,  striped  bass  and  other 
game  delectables  are  plentiful  in  the  land, 
awaiting  the  pleasure  and  convenience  of 
many  thousands  of  good  fellows  who  would 
be  infinitely  better  off  if  they  walked  the 
fields  a  little  more  and  the  floor  a  little  less. 

Fellow  sportsmen,  we  are  all  in  the  same 
boat  these  choppy  days.  No  one.  has  the 
edge  on  us;  for  be  you  millionaire  or 
market-hunter,  potentate  or  pauper,  your 
checks  at  the  bank  have  just  the  same 
value  in  coin  of  the  realm — you  can't  raise 

single  dollar  of  our  daddies'  on  them, 
.■"herefore,  for  the  anomalous  time  being  we 
are  for  once  exemplifying  that  ambiguous 
old  saying  that  all  men  are  equal— which 
is  a  lie  on  the  face  of  it,  for  some  fellows 
are  better  shots  and  fishermen  than  others 
and  the  inequality  will  be  apparent  at 
the  end  of  an  equal  day's  sport.  But  for 
one  thing,  Heaven  be  thanked:    we  all  have 


an   equal  whack  at  the   birds  and  the   fish, 
and  the  best   man  gets  the  biggest  bag. 

There  is  a  silver  lining  to  every  cloud 
if  we  will  only  go  far  enough  afield  to 
see  it,  and  pessimism  never  yet  filled  an 
empty  purse.  Of  course  you  can  stay 
at  home  and  hang  around  the  Stock  Ex- 
changes and  catch  fish — if  you  have  the 
expertness  peculiarly  required  in  such  a 
divertisement;  but  suckers — even  those  with 
golden  scales — are  a  poor  substitute  for 
the  nobler  fish  of  our  heaven-kissed  waters. 
You  can  still-hunt  the  winged  dollar  in 
the  sloughs  of  your  counting  room — and 
sordid  souls  will  doubtlessly  find  their  full 
account  in  the  bursting  bags  of  filthy 
lucre — but  give  us  rather  the  clarity  and 
lustre  of  the  eye  undimmed  by  looking  over 
the  ledger  barrels  at  the  nondescript  buz- 
zard in  pantalettes  which  doesn't  trust  in 
God  any  more.  Give  us  the  waking  glories 
and  the  sleeping  delights  of  days  in  the 
open  and  nights  of  perfect  rest,  earned 
by  the  genuine  sportsmen  in  the  pursuit  of 
man's  natural  ordained  avocation.  For  in 
the  sweat  of  his  brow  he  was  ordained 
to  earn  his  bread,  and  there  is  no  sweat 
like  unto  that  which  oozes  from  the  tanned 
forehead  beneath  the  battered  old  corduroy 
or  canvas  hat. 

Therefore,  oh!  ye  men  of  deep  lined  faces 
and  haggard  aspect,  forget  for  a  blessed 
season  the  miseries  of  Midas  and  go  out 
to  pipe  with  Pan.  Take  down  the  old 
muzzle-loader  and  "soft  coal"  horn,  or  the 
thousand-dollar  ejector  as  your  means  and 
ways  elect,  and  hike  out  to  the  round-up 
of  the  elusive  birds  that  fill  the  hours  and 
the  pan  so  satisfyingly.  Joint  up  the  old 
ash  pole  or  dainty  split  bamboo  and  have 
a  seance  with  old  gipsy  Nature;  in  her 
water  mirror  you  will  read  the  fortune 
you  desire  for  you  compel  it  to  be  as 
you  like— if  you  are  to  the  manner  (not 
necessarily  Manor)   born. 

At  all  events  stop  growling  and  whining. 
Swearing  at  the  conditions  won't  catch  you 
any  fish,  and  hunting  for  troubles  that  will 
flock  all  the  faster  if  your  liver  gets  out 
of  whack  by  staying  indoors,  scheming  how 
to  live  on  the  interests  of  your  debts,  won't 
fill  the  larder  with  toothsome  largess  of 
fen  and  upland.  Borrow  only  one  thing 
from  the  "Street" — its  language: 

"Forget   it!" 

And  go  fishing  or  hunting  in  order  to 
be  able  to. 


376 


WESTERN  FIELD 


California  Game  and  Fish  Laws  1907  1909 


>  shoot  game  between  half 
hour  after  sunset  and  hall  hour  before  sunrise;  or  to  net  or 
trap  any  panic  animals  or  birds,  or  to  take  the  eggs  or  destroy 
the  nests  of  game  or  other  w  lid  birds ;  or  to  shoot  on  enclosed 
or  cultivated  grounds,  when  posted,  without  permission;  or 
to  kill  any  I-lk,  Doe,  Faun,  Antelope,  Mountain  Sheep,  Swan, 
Pheasant,  Imported  Quail,  Grouse.  Sage-hen,  Blue  or  White 
Heron  ("Crane"),  Sea-gull  or  any  non-game  birds  except 
Geese,  Brant,  Sharp-shinned,  Cooper's  and  Duck  Hawks, 
Great  Horned  Owl,  English  Sparrow,  Linnet,  Blue  Jay, 
Butcher  Bird  (Shrike)  and  such  fish  eating  birds  as  are  not 
mentioned  above. 

Shipping  Game— All  game  and  fish  must  be  shipped  in 
open  view,  with  name  and  address  of  shipper. 

OPEN   SEASONS. 

DEER— (Bucks  only)  July  15  to  Oct.  1.  Limit  2  for  the 
Season.     Dogs  can  only  be  used  for  trailing  wounded  deer. 

VALLEY  QUAIL,  CURLEW  and  other  SHORE  BIRDS  — 
Oct.  15  to  Feb.  15.     Limit  25  per  day. 

MOUNTAIN  Quail— Sept.  1  to  Feb.  15.  *Limit  25  per  day. 

DOVES— July  15  to  Oct.  15.     Limit  25  per  day. 


SQUIRREL— Sept.    1    to   Ja 


-(Hook  and  line  only),  May  1 
to  Nov.  15.  Limit  50  fish  (but  not  to  exceed  25  lbs.)  No  fish 
less  than  5  inches  in  length. 

Steelhead  TROUT— (Hook  and  line  only,)    May   1  to 
Sept.  17  and  Oct.  23  to  Feb.  1,     [April  is  also  an  open  month 
■  ]    Ljmit  50  fish  not  less  than  5  inches  in  length. 

;>  Sacramento  perch 

--•NO  open  season. 

PENALTIES—  Killing  Elk.  imprisonment  from  1  to  2 
years;  killing  Does.  Fawns,  Antelope  or  Mountain  Sheep, 
fSO  to  $500  or  imprisonment.  Violating  any  other  game  law. 
$J5  to  $500  or  imprisonment.  Violating  any  fish  law,  $20  to 
$500  or  imprisonment.  Using  any  explosives  for  killing  fish, 
$250  or  imprisonment.  Attempted  violation  punishable  same 
as  actual  violation. 


Black  Bass— <  Hook  and  line  only. )  Jun 
-irnit  50  fish. 


GAME  LAWS  IN  HANDY  FORM 

We  present  herewith  a  full  sized  cut  of  a  handsome 
aluminum  card,  issued  by  Western  rield  for  the 
benefit  of  Sportsmen,  which  gives  at  a  glance  a 
condensed,  yet  sufficiently  complete  resume  of  the 
game  laws  of  California. 

These  handsome  metal  cards — which  are  very  light 
and  of  a  convenient  size  to  carry  in  the  vest 
pocket — will  be  sent  to  anyone  free.  Simply  enclose 
two  cent  stamp  for  return  postage  and  same  will 
be  forwarded  without  delay.  Dealers  in  sporting 
goods  will  be  supplied  with  quantities  for  free  dis- 
tribution on  request.  Address  Western  Field  Co., 
609-10    Mutual    Savings    Bank    Building,    San    Fran- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


377 


President, 

H.     T.     Payne,     725     Baker     Street,     San     Francisco. 

Vice-Presidents, 

C.   L.   Powell,   Pleasanton;    Dr.    I.   W.   Hays,   Grass 

Valley;  A.  S.  Nichols,  Sierraville ;  H.  W.  Keller,  Los 

Angeles,   and    Chase    Littlejohn,    Redwood    City. 

Executive  Committee — C.  W.  Hibbard,  San  Fran- 
cisco; W.  W.  Richards,  Oakland;  A.  M.  Barker,  San 
Jose;  Frank  H.  Mayer,  San  Francisco,  and  J.  H. 
Schumacher,    Los    Angeles. 

Membership  Committee — E.  A.  Mocker,  Capitola ; 
W.  C  Correll,  Riverside,  and  R.  H.  Kelly,  Santa 
Cruz. 

Committee  on  Legislation— H.  W.  Keller,  C.  W. 
Hibbard,  J.  B.  Hauer,  A.  R.  Orr,  and  W.  Scott  Way. 

Secretary-Treasurer. 
E.   A.   Mocker,   1316   Hayes   Street. 

County  Associations — Their  Secretaries  and  Ad- 
dresses: 

Alameda  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
— A.    L.    Henry,    Sec.-Treas.,    Livermore,    Cal. 

Alturas — R.  A.   Laird,  Sec,  Alturas,  Cal. 

Angels — Walter    Tryon,    Sec,    Angels    Camp,    Cal. 

Arroyo  Grande — S.  Clevenger,  Sec,  Arroyo 
Grande,    Cal. 

Auburn — E.    A.    Francis,    Sec,   Auburn,   Cal. 

Boulder  Creek — J.  H.  Aran,  Sec,  Boulder  Creek, 
Cal. 

Audubon  Society  of  California — W.  Scott  Way, 
Sec,  Pasadena,  Cal. 

California  Rod  and  Gun  Club  Association — 316 
Mills    Building,    San    Francisco,    Cal. 

Chico,   ,  Sec,   Chico,   Cal. 

Cloverdale— C.    H.    Smith,    Sec,    Cloverdale,    Cal. 

Colusa — S.    J.    Gilmour,    Sec,    Colusa,    Cal. 

Corning— Mason    Case,    Sec,    Corning,    Cal. 

Covelo— H.    W.    Schutler,    Sec,    Covelo,    Cal. 

Deer  Creek— Jos.   Mitchell,  Sec,  Hot  Springs,  Cal. 

Fort    Bragg — Thos.    Burns,   Sec,    Fort    Bragg,    Cal. 

Fresno — D.    Dismukes,   Sec,    Fresno,    Cal. 

Grass  Valley — John  Mulroy,  Sec,  Grass  Valley, 
Cal. 

Healdsburg  F.  and  G.  P.  Ass'n— J.  H.  Kruse, 
Secretary,    Healdsburg. 

Hollister— Wm.  Higby,  Sec,  Hollister,  Cal. 

Humboldt— Julius    Janssen,    Sec,    Humboldt,    Cal. 

Jackson — O.     H.     Reichling,     Sec,     Jackson,     Cal. 

Kelseyville — Chas.   H.   Pugh,  Sec,  Kelseyville,  Cal. 

Kern  County— E.  F.  Pueschel,  Sec,  Bakersfield, 
Cal. 

Kings  County— S.  S.  Mullins,  Sec,  Hanford, 
Cal. 


Lakeport — B.    F.    Mclntyre,    Sec,    Lakeport,    Cal. 

Laytonville— J.    G.    Dill,    Sec,    Laytonville,    Cal. 

Lodi — Greer    McDonald,    Sec,    Lodi,    Cal. 

Lompoc— W.    R.    Smith,    Sec,    Lompoc,    Cal. 

Los   Angeles— L.    Herzog,   Sec,   Los   Angeles,   Cal. 

Madera— Joe    Bancroft,    Sec,    Madera,    Cal. 

Marysville— R.    B.    Boyd,    Sec,    Marysville,    Cal. 
Mendocino     City— O.     L.     Stanley,     Sec,     Mendocino 
City,   Cal. 

Mohawk  Valley  F.  and  G.  P.  Association— Fred 
King,    Sec.-Treas.,   Cleo,    Plumas   County. 

Monterey  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
— B.    Ramsey,   Sec,    Monterey. 

Napa— W.   West,  Sec,  Napa,   Cal. 

Nevada   City— Fred    C.    Brown,   Sec,   Nevada   City, 

Oroville— G.  T.  Graham,  Sec,  Oroville,  Cal. 
Oxnard— Roy    B.    Witman,    Sec,    Oxnard     Cal 
Paso    Robles— T.    W.    Henry,    Sec,    Paso    Robles, 
Cal.  ' 

Petaluma— Jos.    Steiger,    Sec,    Petaluma,    Cal. 
Pescaderc— C.   J.    Coburn,    Sec,    Pescadero,   Cal 
Porterville— G.    R.    Lumley,    Sec,    Porterville,    Cal. 
Qumcy— T.     F.     Spooner,    Sec,    Quincy,    Cal 
Red    Bluff-W.    F.    Luning,    Sec,    Red    Bluff,    Cal. 
Redding— Dr.    B.    F.    Belt,    Sec,    Redding,    Cal 
Redlands— Robert     Leith,    Sec,     Redlands,    Cal 
Redwood   City— C.    Littlejohn,  Sec,   Redwood   City, 

Riverside— Joe    Shields,    Sec,    Riverside,    Cal. 

San  Andreas— Will  A.  Dower,  Sec,  San  Andreas 
Cal. 

San  Rafael— H.  E.  Robertson,  Sec,  San  Rafael 
Cal. 

Santa    Ana— J.    W.    Carlyle,   Sec,   Santa   Ana,    Cal 

Santa  Barbara— E.  C.  Tallant,  Sec,  Santa  Bar- 
bara,   Cal. 

San  Bernardino — F.  C.  Moore,  Sec,  San  Bernar- 
dino,   Cal. 

Santa   Clara— J.   H.   Faull,   Sec,   San  Jose,   Cal. 

Santa    Cruz— R.    Miller,    Sec,    Santa    Cruz,    Cal. 

San    Diego— A.    D.    Jordan,    Sec,    San    Diego,    Cal. 

San  Francisco  Fly  Casting  Club— F.  W.  Brother- 
ton,  Sec,  29  Wells-Fargo  Building.  San  Francisco, 
Cal. 

Sanger— H.    C.    Coblentz,    Sec,    Sanger,    Cal 

Santa    Maria— L.    J.    Morris,    Sec,    Santa    Maria, 

Sant 
Cal. 

San    Luis    Obispo— H.    C.    Knight,    Sec.    S 
Obispo,    Cal. 

Salinas— J.   J.    Kelley,   Sec,    Salinas,    Cal. 

Selma— J.    J.    Vanderburg,    Sec,    Selma,    Cal. 

Sierra— Dr.    S.    H.    Crow,    Sec,    Sierraville,    Cal. 

Sierra  Co.,  F.  and  G.  Association— F.  B.  Sparks 
Sec,    Loyalton,    Cal. 

Siskiyou— W.    A.    Sharp,    Sec,    Sisson,    Cal. 

Santa  Paula— Dr.  R.  L.  Poplin,  Sec,  Santa  Paula 
Cal. 

Sacramento    County — A.    Hertzey,    S< 
to,    Cal. 

Sonora — J.    A.    Van    Harlingen,    Sec. 

Stockton — R.    L.    Quisenberry,   Sec,    Stockt 

Susanville— R.    M.    Rankin,    Sec,    Susanvil 


Rosa— Miles     Peerman,     Sec,     Santa     Rosa, 


Luis 


Sacramen- 


Stii 


Sonora,  Cal. 
Cal. 
Cal. 


nd   G. 


Sec,    Three    Rivers, 
'n— A.    F.    Schlumpf, 


Sutter    Creek- 
Cal. 

Truckee    Rivei 
Truckee,   Cal. 

Ukiah— Sam    D.     Paxton,    Sec,    Ukiah,    Cal. 

Vallejo— J.  V.  O'Hara,  Sec,  Vallejo,  Cal. 

Ventura — M.     E.     V.     Bogart,    Sec,    Ventura,    Cal. 

Visalia— Thomas  A.    Chaten,   Sec,   Visalia,   Cal. 

Watsonville— Ed    Winkle,    Sec,    Watsonville,     Cal. 

Willits— Chester    Ware,    Sec,    Willits,    Cal. 

Woodland— W.   F.   Huston,  Sec,  Woodland,  Cal. 

West    Berkeley — Charles    Hadlan,    Sec,    West    Ber- 
keley,   Cal. 

Yreka— F.    E.    Autenreith,    Sec,    Yreka,    Cal. 


378 


WESTERN  FIELD 


A  STRANGE  FISH  FROM  THE  WATERS 
OF  THE  TAHSIS  CANAL 

EARLY  in  May  of  the  present  year,  I  happened 
to  be  at  Friendly  Cove,  the  English  name  for 
the  Siwash  village  of  Yuquot,  situated  near 
the  southern  extremity  of  Nootka  Island  at  the 
mouth  of  the  sound  of  the  same  name.  I  had 
returned  to  the  west  coast  from  a  trip  over  the 
divide  into  the  little-known  interior  of  Vancouver 
Island,  and  was  marking  time  until  the  good  ship 
"Tees"  should  chance  along  and  take  me  farther 
west.  As  I  had  just  missed  her,  there  were  ten 
days,  at  least,  to  be  whiled  away.  At  first,  time 
threatened  to  hang  heavy,  but  after  a  couple  of 
days  several  parties  of  timber  men  drifted  in  from 
their  cruising,  and  the  outlook  at  once  became 
brighter. 

As  we  could  not  camp  on  the  reserve,  our  tents 
were  pitched  on  the  only  available  place — the  beach 
directly  in  front  of  the  Mission.  One  day  an 
Indian  on  his  return  to  the  village  from  a  fishing 
trip  up  the  Tahsis,  seeing  our  tents,  ran  the  nose 
of  his  canoe  on  the  shore  below,  and  stepped  out. 
He  had  fish  to  sell — cod  and  halibut.  Had  the 
salmon  been  running  we  could  have  caught  our 
own  food,  but  it  was  too  early  3n  the  season  for 
this  royal  fish.  The  next  best  thing  was  to  buy 
halibut  from  the  Indian.  We  bargained  for  two, 
and  while  the  Indian  was  selecting  what  he  con- 
sidered was  no  less  than  our  money's  worth,  we 
noticed  among  the  pile  of  fish  in  the  bottom  of 
the  canoe  what  we  took  to  be  a  magnificent  salmon. 
We  asked  the  Indian  the  price.  He  told  us,  while 
a  beneficent  smile  played  over  his  much- wrinkled 
countenance,  that  he  would  potlach  the  fish — in  other 
words  give  it  to  us  gratis.  This  should  have  seemed 
strange  enough,  for  an  Indian  doesn't  generally 
give  things  away  to  strangers,  but  we  thought 
we  had  a  prize,  and  placed  it  on  the  beach 
alongside   our   purchases. 

The  canoe  and  its  occupant  departed.  Shortly 
after  there  came  a  procession  from  the  village. 
Rucks,  young  and  old,  gathered  about  our  fish. 
We  could  not  understand  it,  and  it  was  only  after 
much  questioning  that  I  managed  to  get  the  rea- 
sons for  their  interest.  It  seems  that  the  fish 
was    not    a    salmon    at    all.      Wj   could    see    that    it 


was  not  after  a  close  inspection.  What  was  it 
then?  A  buck  of  some  thirty-six  years  told  me 
it  was  the  first  of  its  kind  he  had  ever  seen, 
while  an  old  patriarch  explained,  with  much  native 
eloquence,  that  many,  many  winters  ago,  the  men 
of  the  village  had  taken  numbers  of  the  same 
kind  of  fish  from  the  waters  of  the  Tahsis  Canal, 
and  that  all  those  that  ate  of  them  at  the  time 
had    been    poisoned,    a   large    number   dying. 

Whether  the  story  is  true  or  not  I  cannot  attempt 
to  prove,  but  it  is  just  possible  that  at  the  particular 
time  the  natives  ate  of  the  fish  the  village  was 
visited  by  some  epidemic  which  was  responsible  for 
the  deaths  and  not  the  fish  as  imagined.  I  rather 
think  this  latter  is  correct,  for  in  July  I  got  ac- 
quainted with  a  Mr.  O.  Bergh,  of  Quatsino,  a 
gentleman  who  is  somewhat  observant  and  has 
some  knowledge  of  fish  and  such  things.  During 
my  stay  at  Quatsino,  I  mentioned  the  matter  of 
the  fish  to  Mr.  Bergh,  and  he  told  me  he  had 
bought  a  fish  from  an  Indian  in  the  spring  which 
the  Indian  declared  was  poison.  He  thought  the 
Indian  was  "putting  it  on,"  as  the  flesh  was  that 
of  a  clean  fish.  ±ie  decided  to  test  it  anyway,  and 
did  so.  Suffering  no  ill  effects,  he  divided  the 
fish,  as  it  weighed  about  forty  pounds,  among 
sor  e  of  the  settlers.  Nobody  was  poisoned.  From 
Mr.  Bergh's  description,  it  must  have  been  the 
same  species  of  fish  I  had  left  untouched  on  the 
beach  at  Xootka.  I  have  since  shown  the  ac- 
companying photograph  to  fishermen,  have  described 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


379 


the  fish  to  cannery  men  and  others.  They  have 
all  told  me  that  it  is  something  new  to  them.  Is  it 
possible  that   it    is   new   to   science? 

In  appearance,  the  fish  is  very  symmetrical,  as 
the  picture  shows.  It  was  caught  with  a  spoon. 
On  the  upper  jaw  the  teeth  were  all  bunched  in 
front;  while  on  the  lower  the  teeth  were  regular  and 
extended  for  the  full  length.  The  gills  were  of  a 
dull  red  color.  The  belly  was  somewhat  like  that 
of  a  cod-fish;  while  the  back  strongly  resembled  that 
of  a  salmon,  with  the  exception  of  the  dorsal  fin, 
which  was  of  a  spiny  character  continuing  along  the 
back  almost  to  the  tail,  which  was  also  much  like 
that  of  a  salmon.  On  the  whole,  the  coloring  was 
the  most  splendid  I  have  ever  observed  on  a  salt 
water  fish,  the  head  being  especially  notable  with 
its  rich  peacock  markings  on  top  and  the  soft  old 
gold  colors  of  its  sides.  The  flesh  was  very  similar 
to  the  flesh  of  a  cod-fish.  The  Indian  name  for  the 
fish  is  Mishoway.  It  is  just  possible  that  a  food 
fish,  as  yet  unknown  to  us,  may  be  a  spring-time 
visitor  to  the  inlets  of  western  Vancouver  Island. 
If  so.  and  whether  the  fish  came  in  sufficient 
numbers  to  be  of  commercial  value  are  matters  which 
might  be  worth  an  investigation. 
Victoria,  B.  C.  F.   M.  Kelly. 


A  NEW  NATIONAL  BUFFALO  HERD 

THE  buffalo  herd  which  was  presented  to  the 
national  government  by  the  New  York  Zoologi- 
cal Society  last  year,  to  form  the  nucleus  of  a 
great  southwestern  herd,  was  shipped  on  October 
11th,  to  the  new  range  of  76S.0  acres  that  has  been 
prepared  for  it  in  the  best  portion  of  the  Wichita 
Game  Reserve,  southwestern  Oklahoma.  On  Octo- 
ber 10th,  fifteen  fine  animals,  the  pick  of  the 
splendid  herd  of  forty-five  head  in  the  New 
York  Zoological  Park,  were  crated  for  shipment, 
each  in  a  roomy  and  comfortable  crate,  and  shipped 
to  Cache,  Oklahoma.  In  view  of  the  nature  and 
object  of  the  shipment — a  gift  to  the  people,  for 
the  express  purpose  of  helping  to  preserve  the 
American  Bison  from  ultimate  extinction — the 
American  Express  Company  and  the  New  York 
Central  Lines  transport  the  two  cars  free  of  charge 
from  New  York  to  St.  Louis,  and  the  Wells- 
Fargo  Express  Company  also  makes  a  free  gift 
of  the  transportation  over  the  'Frisco  road  from  St. 
Louis  to  Cache.  Both  these  favors  are  greatly 
appreciated  by  the  Z-oological  Society,  which  had 
undertaken    to    make    delivery    at    Cache. 

In  1906,  the  New  York  Zoological  Society  re- 
ceived from  the  Director  of  the  Zoological  Park 
a  suggestion  that  the  Society  offer  to  the  National 
oovernment,  as  a  gift,  a  herd  of  fifteen  buffaloes 
with  whicn  to  start  a  new  national  herd.  The 
proposal  was  warmly  endorsed  by  the  Executive 
Committee  of  the  Society.  The  offer  was  made 
to  the  Secretary  of  Agriculture,  who  immediately 
accepted  it,  and  invited  the  Society  to  select  a 
site  for  the  new  fenced  range  that  would  be 
necessary.  Forthwith  the  Society  despatched  a 
special  agent,  Mr.  J.  A.  Loring,  who  went  to 
the  U  ichita  Reserve,  and  with  Supervisor  E.  b . 
Morrissey,     carefully    examined    the    whole    available 


territory.  A  location  was  agreed  upon,  and  duly 
mapped  out.  Mr.  Loring  submitted  to  the  Society 
an  elaborate  and  thorough  report,  which  was  trans- 
mitted to  the  Department  of  Agriculture,  and  to 
Congress.  Secretary  Wilson  secured  a  special 
appropriation  of  $15,000  for  the  erection  of  a  wire 
fence  to  enclose  twelve  square  miles  of  range,  and 
to  erect  corrals,  sheds,  and  a  hay  barn.  This 
work  has  been  proceeding,  and  will  soon  be  com- 
pleted, under  the  direction  of  the  Forestry  Bureau 
of  the  Department  of  Agriculture,  whose  officers 
have  from  the  first  been  keenly  interested  in  the 
undertaking.  All  the  improvements  were  planned 
by  Mr.  Hornaday,  and  the  animals  for  the  nucleus 
herd    were   carefully    selected   by   him. 

The  Buffalo  herd  of  the  New  York  Zoological 
Park  has  for  a  long  time  been  one  of  the  finest 
sights  of  that  great  home  for  wild  animals.  Orig- 
inally planned  to  contain  twenty  head,  it  numbered 
previous  to  this  shipment  forty-five  as  handsome 
buffaloes  of  all  ages  as  ever  were  brought  to- 
gether. Ten  lusty  calves  have  been  born  this 
year. 

But,  nothwithstanding  the  fine  condition  of  this 
herd,  the  officers  of  the  Zoological  Society  know 
that  the  only  sure  way  by  which  the  American 
bison  can  be  preserved  in  full  vigor  for  the  next 
two  hundred  years,  or  more,  is  by  establishing 
herds  under  national  or  state  ownership,  on  public 
lands,  in  ranges  so  large  and  so  diversified  that 
the  animals  will  be  wild  and  free.  Under  such 
conditions,  Dr.  tiornaday  declares  that  no  ill 
effects    from    inbreeding    ever    need    be    feared. 

The  herd  forwarded  to  Oklahoma  is  composed 
as  follows :  Six  breeding  cows,  one  big  bull, 
"Comanche,"  five  years  old,  and  master  of  the  herd; 
one  bull  three  and  one-half  years  old ,  two  bulls 
and  one  cow  in  third  year,  one  bull  and  one  cow 
in  second  year,  and  one  pair  of  calves,  male  and 
female,  six  months  old.  In  this  collection,  four 
different  strains  of  blood  are  represented,  and  after 
this  succession  of  breeding  males  has  been'  ex- 
hausted, there  will  be  nothing  to  fear  from  in- 
breeding. 

The  shipment  went  forward  in  charge  of  Frank 
Rush,  Keeper  of  the  Wichita  Buffalo  Range,  and 
H.  Raymond  Mitchell,  Chief  Clerk  of  the  New 
York  Zoological  Park.  The  buffaloes  were  shipped 
in  two  patent  stock  cars,  and  travelled  in  pas- 
senger trains  the  whole  distance.  On  arriving  at 
Cache,  teams  were  in  readiness,  and  the  animals 
were  hauled,  crated  as  they  were,  twelve  miles 
to  the  new  range.  The  utmost  care  will  be  observed 
to  prevent  infection  by  the  Texas  fever  tick  that 
is   such    a   scourge   to   cattle   in   the   southwest. 


GOOD  WORK  WELL  DONE 

THE  first  annual  report  of  the  Audubon  Society 
of  California  is  as  creditable  a  bit  of  compila- 
tion and  printer's  work,  as  is  the  great  work 
done  in  the  cause  of  bird  protection  by  Secretary 
W.  Scott  Way  and  his  estimable  coadjutors.  Too 
much  cannot  be  said  in  praise  of  the  commendable 
labors    of    these    advanced    citizens;    by    their    efforts 


380 


WESTERN  FIELD 


they  have  educated  the  masses  up  to  the  apprecia- 
tion  of  what  our  feathered  friends  are  worth  to  us 
in  a  commercial  as  well  as  an  aesthetic  way,  and 
today  our  woods  arc  filled  with  the  music  of  thousands 
of  songsters  whose  vices  bid  fair  to  be  hushed  for- 
ever until  Mr.  Way  and  his  friends  came  to 
their  defense — a  defense  which  will  insure  to  pos- 
terity a  delight  that  would  forever  have  been  lost 
had  not  the  Audubon  Society  promptly  and  vigor 
ously    stepped    into    the    breach. 

All    honor    to    the    Audubon    Society    and    its    mag- 
nificent   work  I 


ANGLERS'   NATIONAL  CONVENTION 

THE  preservation  of  the  game  fishes  of  America, 
in  rivers,  lakes  and  the  sea.  and  their  increase 
by  proper  methods  of  protection  and  planting 
is  a  matter  in  which  the  anglers  of  the  United  States 
and  Canada  have  a  warm  and  common  interest.  They 
desire  not  only  to  save  such  an  important  source 
of  wholesome  and  delicious  food  for  the  people  from 
being  destroyed  by  carelessness,  ignorance  or  greed. 
but  also  to  preserve  the  healthful  and  manly  sport 
of  angling  as  a  means  of  popular  recreation.  They 
wish  to  promote  a  higher  standard  of  sportsmanship 
among  the  followers  of  rod  and  line;  to  encourage 
the  adoption  of  angling  methods  which  will  make 
the  wholesale  slaughter  of  fish  impossible  and  in- 
crease the  sport  of  taking  a  fair  number  in  a  fair 
way;  and  to  prevent  the  abuses  which  are  making 
so  many  of  our  streams  and  sea  coasts  barren,  such 
as  the  vicious  use  of  nets  and  spears,  the  pollution 
of  running  streams,   inadequate   game-laws,   etc. 

With  these  ends  in  view  a  con\ention  of  honest 
anglers  is  to  be  held  in  New  York  City  on  the 
eleventh  day  of  November,  1907,  at  8:15  p.  m.,  at 
the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History,  77th  Street 
and  Central  Park  West,  in  order  that  we  may  ex- 
change views,  obtain  information  and  unite  more 
closely  and  effectively  for  the  protection  of  the  game 
fishes   and   the    improvement   of   the   sport    of   angling. 

The  programme  of  addresses  and  papers  to  be 
heard  at  the  convention  is  not  yet  entirely  in  order, 
but  among  the  interesting  items  will  be  the  follow- 
ing: 

"The  True  Sporting  Spirit."  Address  by  Dr. 
Henry  van   Dyke,  of  Princeton  College.   X.    T. 

"The  Grayling."  Paper  by  Dr.  David  Starr  Jor- 
dan,  President   Stanford  University,   California. 

"To  the  Tip-Top  of  the  United  States  in  search  of 
the  Golden  Trout."  Paper  with  stereopticon  views 
by  Dr.  Barton  Warren  Evermann,  Ichthyologist  of 
the  United    States    Bureau   of   Fisheries. 

"The  Great  Game  Fishes  of  the  Pacific  Slope  and 
what  has  been  done  to  protect  them."  Paper  with 
stereopticon  views  by  Professor  Charles  Frederick 
Holder,  President  Santa  Catalina  Island  Tuna  Club, 
California. 

"The  Fish  Cultural  Work  of  the  New  York  Fish, 
Forest  and  Game  Commission."  Paper  by  Dr.  Tarle- 
ton  H.  Bean,  of  the  New  York  Commission. 

"Thaddeus  Norris  and  Bob  Roosevelt  in  Angling 
Literature  and  their  fish  protective  creeds."  Paper 
by  Mr.  Charles  Hallock,  founder  of  Forest  and 
Stream. 


Other  valuable  contributions  are  expected,  the 
nature  of  which   is  as  yet   undetermined. 

Interesting  papers  and  addresses  upon  topics  of 
mutual  importance  arc  expected  from  American  and 
Canadian    anglers. 

You  are  cordially  invited  to  be  a  member  of  this 
convention  and  to  participate  in  its  discussions  and 
in  any  action  that   may  follow  them. 

Dr.    Henry  van   Dyke,  Princeton  College. 

Dr.  David  Starr  Jordan,  Stanford  University, 
California. 

l>r.    Barton   W.   Evermann,  U.   S.   Fisheries  Bureau. 

Prof.  Charles  Frederick  Holder,  President  Tuna 
t  lub. 

Mr.   Charles  Hallock,   Washington,   D.   C. 

Dr.  Tarlton  H.   Bean,  New  York  City. 

Mr.   Arthur  J.   Eddy,  Avalon,  Cal. 

Mr.    Charles    Stewart    Davison,    New    York   City. 

Mr.   E.  L.  Hedderly.  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

Mr.   Robert   B,.   Lawrence,   New  York   City. 

Mr.    Lafayette  P.   Streeter,   Pasadena.  Cal. 

Mr     F.   Gray  Griswold,   New   York  City. 

Mr.  John   L.   Cadwalader,    New   York  City. 

Mr.   Walter  A.   Brackett,  Boston,  Mass. 

Mr.   Cyrus  S.   Detre.   Philadelphia,   Pa. 

Mr.   Seymour  E.   Locke,  New  York  City. 

Mr.  Thomas  S.   Manning,  Avalon,  Cal. 

Mr.   E.   R.   Perkins,  New  York  City. 

Col.   C.   P.  Morehous,  Pasadena,  Cal. 

Mr.    F.    L.    Harding,    Philadelphia,   Pa. 


INTERNATIONAL  FISHERY  CONGRESS 

THE  Fourth  International  Fishery  Congress  will 
convene  in  the  City  of  Washington,  United 
States  of  America,  in  accordance  with  the 
decision  of  the  Third  International  Fishery  Con- 
gress held  in  Vienna  in  1905.  The  meeting,  which 
will  be  under  the  auspices  of  the  United  States 
Bureau  of  Fisheries  and  the  American  Fisheries 
Society,  will  extend  from  the  22d  to  the  26th  of 
September,   1908. 

All  persons  interested  in  the  fisheries,  fish  culture, 
fishery  administration,  or  other  matters  within  the 
scope  of  the  Congress  are  invited  to  attend  the 
meeting  and  participate  in  the  proceedings.  National, 
state,  and  provincial  governments,  societies,  asso- 
ciations, clubs,  and  other  bodies  are  requested  to 
nominate  and  to  send  delegates. 

Persons  who  expect  to  attend  the  Congress  or  to 
submit  papers  are  asked  to  communicate  with  the 
secretary-general  as  soon  as  practicable ;  and  the 
secretaries  of  institutions  and  organizations  inter- 
ested in  the  work  of  the  Congress  are  requested  to 
register  their  official  designation  and  address  so  that 
they  may  receive  further  announcements,  programs, 
invitations,   etc. 

Competitive  Awards:  In  connection  with  the  Con- 
gress there  have  been  arranged  the  following  com- 
petitive awards  for  the  best  or  most  important  in- 
vestigations, discoveries,  inventions,  etc.,  relative  to 
fisheries,  aquiculture,  ichthyology,  fish  pathology, 
and  related  subjects  during  the  years  1906,  1907  and 
1908.  The  awards  will  be  in  the  form  of  money,  and 
aggregate      $2,200;      and,      although      the      individual 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


381 


amounts  are  not  large,  it  is  hoped  that  the  conferring 
of  the  awards  by  so  representative  a  body  as  the 
International  Fishery  Congress  will  induce  many 
persons  to  compete  and  will  result  in  much  benefit 
to  the  fisheries  and  fish  culture. 

1.  By  the  American  Fishery  Society:  For  a 
paper  embodying  the  most  important  original  ob- 
servations and  investigations  regarding  the  cause, 
treatment,  and  prevention  of  a  disease  affecting 
a  species  of  fish  under  cultivation,   $100   in  gold. 

2.  By  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  History, 
New  York  City :  For  an  original  paper  describing 
and  illustrating  by  specimens  the  best  method  of 
preparing  fishes  for  museum  and  exhibition  pur- 
poses, $100  in  gold. 

3.  By  "Forest  and  Stream,"  New  York  City; 
Mr.  George  Bird  Grinnell,  editor:  For  the  best 
paper  giving  description,  history  and  methods  of  ad- 
ministration of  a  water,  or  waters,  stocked  and  pre- 
served as  a  commercial  enterprise,  in  which  angling 
is  open  to  the  public  on  payment  of  a  fee,  $50  in 
gojd. 

4.  By  the  Museum  of  the  Brooklyn  Institute  of 
Arts  and  Sciences,  Brooklyn,  New  York;  Mr.  F.  A. 
Lucas,  curator-in-chief:  For  the  best  paper  setting 
forth  a  plan  for  an  educational  exhibit  of  fishes,  the 
species  and  specimens  that  should  be  shown,  the 
method  of  arrangement,  and  suggestions  for  making 
such  an  exhibit  instructive  and  attractive,  $100  in 
gold. 

5.  By  the  New  York  Aquarium  (under  the  man- 
agement of  the  New  York  Zoological  society),  New 
York  City;  Mr.  Charles  H.  Townsend,  director:  For 
an  exposition  of  the  best  methods  of  combating 
fungus  disease  in  fishes  in  captivity,  $150  in  gold. 

6.  By  the  New  York  Botanical  Garden,  New 
York  City;  Dr.  N.  L.  Britton,  director:  For  the 
best  essay  on  any  interrelation  between  marine 
plants  and  animals,  $100  in  gold. 

7.  By  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  Washington, 
D.  C. :  For  the  best  essay  or  treatise  on  "Interna- 
tional regulations  of  the  fisheries  -on  the  high  seas, 
their  history,  objects,  and  results."     $200  in  gold. 

8.  By  The  Fisheries  Company,  Philadelphia, 
Pennsylvania;  Mr.  Joseph  Wharton,  president:  For 
the  best  essay  treating  of  the  effects  of  fishing  on 
the  abundance  and  movements  of  surface-swimming 
fishes  which  go  in  schools,  particularly  *  the  men- 
haden and  similar  species,  and  the  influence  of  such 
fishing  on  the  fishes  which  may  prey  on  such  species. 
$250  in  gold. 

9.  By  the  United  States  Bureau  of  Fisheries, 
Washington,  D.  C. :  For  a  report  describing  the 
most  useful  new  and  original  principle,  method,  or 
apparatus  to  be  employed  in  fish  culture  or  in  trans- 
porting live  fishes  (competition  not  open  to  em- 
ployees of  the   Bureau).     $200   in   gold. 

10.  By  the  Wolverine  Fish  Company,  Detroit, 
Michigan:  For  the  best  plan  to  promote  the  white- 
fish  production  of  the  Great  Lakes.     $100  in  gold. 

11.  By  Mr.  Hayes  Bigelow,  Battleboro,  Vermont, 
member  of  the  American  Fisheries  Society:  For 
the  best  demonstration,  Dased  on  original  investi- 
gations and  experiments,  of  the  commercial  possi- 
bilities of  growing  sponges  from  eggs  or  cuttings. 
$100  in  gold. 

12.  By  Hon.  George  M.  Bowers,  United  States 
Commissioner  of  Fisheries,  Washington,  D.  C: 
For    the    best   demonstration    of   the    efficacy    of   arti- 


ficial  propagation    as   applied   to   marine  fishes.      $100 
in   gold. 

13.  By  Dr.  H.  C.  Bumpus,  director  of  the  Ameri- 
can Museum  of  Natural  History,  New  York  City: 
For  an  original  and  practical  method  of  lobster  cul- 
ture.    $100  in  gold. 

14.  By  Mr.  John  K.  Cheyney,  Tarpon  Springs, 
Florida,  member  of  the  American  Fisheries  Society: 
For  the  best  presentation  treating  of  the  methods  of 
the  world's  sponge  fisheries,  the  influence  of  such 
methods  on  the  supply  of  sponges,  and  the  most 
effective  means  of  conserving  the  sponge  grounds. 
$100  in  gold. 

15.  By  Prof.  Theodore  Gill,  honorary  associate 
in  zoology,  Smithsonian  Institution,  Washington, 
D.  C. :  For  the  best  methods  of  observing  the  habits 
and  recording  the  life  histories  of  fishes,  with  an 
illustrative  example.     $100  in  gold. 

16.  By  Dr.  F.  M.  Johnson,  Boston,  Massachusetts, 
member  of  the  American  Fisheries  Society:  For  the 
best  demonstration  of  the  comparative  value  of 
different  kinds  of  foods  for  use  in  rearing  young 
salmonoids,  taking  into  consideration  cheapness, 
availability,   and  potentiality.     $150  in  gold. 

17.  By  the  New  York  Academy  of  Sciences,  New 
York  City;  Dr.  N.  L.  Britton,  president:  For  the 
contribution,  not  entered  in  competition  for  any 
other  award,  which  shall  be  judged  to  have  the 
greatest  practical  value  to  the  fisheries  or  fish  cul- 
ture.    $100  in  gold. 

18.  By  Messrs.  Henry  Holt  &  Company,  pub- 
lishers. New  York  City :  For  the  best  series  of 
photographs,  with  brief  descriptions,  illustrating  the 
capture   of  food   or   game  fishes.      $100   in   gold. 

Conditions  governing  competition:  (1)  Any  per- 
son, association,  or  company  may  compete  for  any 
of  the  awards. 

(2)  Each  competitor  shall,  before  July  15,  1908, 
notify  the  general  secretary  of  the  Congress  as  to 
the  particular  award  for  which  he  competes ;  and 
he  shall  duly  qualify  himself  as  a  member  of  the 
Congress. 

(3)  Each  paper  or  exhibit  offered  in  competition 
shall  be  in  the  custody  of  the  secretary-general  on 
the  day   of  opening  of  the  Congress. 

(4)  Papers  may  be  written  in  English,  French, 
German,   or    Italian. 

(5)  Each  device,  apparatus,  process,  or  method 
for  which  an  award  is  asked  shall  be  represented  by 
a  sample,  a  model,  or  an  illustrated  description  ;  and 
each  shall  be  accompanied  by  a  complete  statement 
of  the  points  for  which  an  award  is  asked. 

(6)  The  Congress  reserves  the  right  to  publish, 
prior  to  their  publication  elsewhere,  any  papers  or 
photographs  submitted  in  competition,  whether  or 
not  such  papers  or  photographs  receive  awards ;  pro- 
vided, however,  that  in  the  event  of  the  Congress 
having  failed  to  publish  within  six  months  after  the 
session,  an  author  will  be  at  liberty  to  publish  when 
and  where  he  may  elect. 

Making  of  the  awards :  ( 1 )  The  papers,  appli- 
ances, exhibits,  etc.,  submitted  in  competition  for 
awards  will  be  examined  by  an  international  board 
to  be  designated  by  the  president  of  the  International 
Fishery  Congress. 

(2)  The  board  will  determine  the  competitors 
who  are  entitled  to  awards,  and  the  decisions  of  the 
board   will   be  final. 

(3)  The  board  may  call  before  it,  in  order  to  ob- 


382 


FIELD 


Mm     additional     information     v.       ■ 

who  may  have  entered  the  competition  and  al 

persons. 

<4>      The    hoard    may,     at     its    discretion,    withhold 
i lie    award    in    any    case    if    In    its    judgment    I 
ciently   worthy  competition   is   presented;   and    il    may 
divide   an    award   if  there   arc   two   Competitions   that    it 
i  equal  merit. 

(5)  The  board  will  make  its  report  to  the  Con- 
gress not  later  than  the  day  preceding  final  ad- 
journment. 

(6)  The  awards  will  be  announced  at  a  session 
of  the  Congress,  and  each  award  will  be  accom- 
panied   by    a    special    certificate    or    diploma    suitably 


inscribed  and  bearing  the  signatures  of  the  officers 
of  the  Congress. 

Communications  regarding  the  Congress  should 
be  addressed  to  Secretary-General,  International 
Fishery    Congress,    Washington,    I).    C,    U.    S.    A. 

For  the  United  States  Bureau  of  I'.sheries:  George 
M.   Bowers,  United  States  Commissioner  of  Fisheries. 

For  the  Committee  of  Organization  of  the  Fourth 
International  Fishery  Congress:  Hcrmon  C.  Humpus, 
Director  of  the  American  Museum  of  Natural  His- 
tory;   President   of   the   Congress. 

For  the  American  Fisheries  Society :  Hugh  M. 
Smith,  President  of  the  Society;  Secretary-General 
of  the   Congress. 


m 

NORTHWEST 
DErMTMENT 

m 

Conducted  by  August  Wolf 


ROXZED  like  a  pard  by  foreign  suns, 
and  bringing  with  him  six  silver 
trophies  presented  personally  by 
Wilhelm,  Emperor  of  Germany,  and 
Alphonso,  King  of  Spain,  F.  Lewis 
Clark,  first  vice-president  of  the 
Spokane  &  Inland  Empire  Railway 
Company,  and  vice-commodore  of 
the  Eastern  Yacht  Club,  known  to 
three  nations  as  the  builder  and 
owner  of  the  yacht  Spokane,  winner 
of  several  international  races  and 
America's  most  successful  competitor  in  Germany 
and  Spain,  has  returned  to  his  home  in  Spokane 
to  pass  the  winter.  Mr.  Clark  spoke  enthusiastically 
of  the  treatment  accorded  the  American  sailors  while 
abroad,  saying  that  the  German  and  Spanish  yachts- 
men and  the  people  in  general  outdid  themselves  in 
hospitality  and  sportsmanship.  The  party,  of  which 
he  was  a  member,  included  Henry  Howard,  chair- 
man of  the  American  committee  on  the  International 
Yacht  Racing  board,  and  nine  American  sailors, 
three  being  assigned  to  each  crew  of  the  three  boats. 
Speaking  of  the  races  Mr.  Clark  said: 

"The  Spokane  was  the  only  heavy  weather  racing 
boat  the  Americans  had.  Unfortunately,  at  Ger- 
many we  were  compelled  to  race  in  a  terrific  wind, 
and  so  we  had  only  one  chance  in  three  against 
the  Germans,  who  had  built  their  boats  in  a  fashion 
cleverly  adapted  to  the  winds  and  waters  of  the 
course    at    Kiel. 

"For  the  benefit  of  those  who  do  not  understand 
the  nature  of  the  international  races,  I  may  say 
that  they  are  for  what  the  Germans  call  sonderklasse 
boats  only.  The  sonderklasse  yacht  is  a  very  small 
boat,  patterned  after  the  favorite  yacht  of  the  Ger- 
man  Emperor.      Sonderklasse  means  special. 

"The  conditions  under  which  the  yachts  entered 
the    international   races,    which   were    for   the   Kaiser's 


cup  this  year,  were:  The  length,  breadth  and  draft 
of  the  boat  not  exceeding  35  feet.  By  that  is 
meant  you  may  make  your  boat  25  feet  long  and 
four  feet  wide.  That  only  leaves  you  six  feet  for 
draft.  You  may  alter  this  as  you  choose,  but  the 
total  of  the  length,  breadth  and  draft  must  not 
exceed  35  feet.  For  instance,  the  Doriga,  the 
Spanish  yacht,  which  in  a  light  wind  is,  I  believe, 
the  fastest  thing  I  have  ever  seen,  is  excessively 
long   and  narrow-. 

"The  boats  must  weigh  about  3500  pounds  and 
not  carry  550  feet  of  sail.  The  planking  every- 
where must  attain  a  certain  thickness.  Thus  it  will 
be  seen  that  the  sonderklasse  is  a  sort  of  a 
one-design  boat.  Taking  a  fleet  of  them  together, 
it  is  very  difficult  to  tell  one  from  the  other.  Being 
equal  in  size,  there  is  no  handicap  time  allowance, 
as   is   usually   the  case   with   the   larger   boats. 

"The  international  races  with  the  Germans  were 
started  several  years  ago.  largely  through  the  efforts 
of  Henry  Howard,  chairman  of  the  yachting  com- 
mittee of  the  Eastern  Yacht  Club,  who  corresponded 
and  consulted  at  great  length  with  the  Germans. 
Prince  Henry,  brother  of  the  Kaiser,  was  interested 
and  was  also  largely  instrumental  in  getting  the 
first    race. 

"The  Americans  won  easily  in  the  races  off  Marble- 
head,  our  boats  being  entirely  too  strong  for  the 
Germans  in  those  waters.  However,  I  believe  we 
could  have  beaten  the  boats  they  sent  over  last 
year  in  any  waters.  The  Germans  went  back  home 
to  rebuild  their  fleet.  We  loaned  them  our  designs 
for  all  the  little  details,  even  to  the  sails.  They  were 
quick  to  learn  and  cleverly  adapted  our  designs 
to  meet  their  own  wind  and  water  conditions.  I  guess 
we  were  a  little  too  good  to  them,  for  they 
certainly  gave  us  a  decisive  beating  at  Kiel  this  year. 

"At  Kiel  we  were  compelled  to  race  in  half  a 
gale     all     the     time.       The     bpokane     was     the     only 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


383 


heavy-weather  boat  of  our  three,  and  while  it  could 
take  care  of  one  German  boat  all  right  and  race 
on  even  terms  witu  any  of  them,  the  other  two 
American  boats  could  not  hold  their  own  with  their 
German  opponents,  and  one  of  these  generally  man- 
aged to  find  a  wind  advantage  and  finish  ahead 
of    the    Spokane. 

"I  am  not  certain  we  could  have  beaten  the 
Germans  under  different  conditions,  but  I  believe 
if  the  Americans  had  two  more  boats  like  the 
Spokane    we    could    have    done    so. 

"In  Spain  the  conditions  in  weather  and  water 
were  almost  diametrically  opposed  to  those  at  Kiel, 
and  here,  again,  the  Spaniards  had  cleverly  built  their 
boats  just  for  this  sort  of  sailing.  There  were 
17  entries  in  the  international  race  at  Balboa. 
The  first  day  the  wind  gave  out,  and  the  next 
it  blew'  so  hard  that  they  would  not  allow  our 
boats  to  go  out  on  the  sea,  although  we  were  eager 
to  do  so.  I  believe  if  the  race  had  been  run 
that   day  the  Americans  would  have  won. 

"That  day  they  held  two  races  inside  the  break- 
water, in  a  square  of  about  three  miles,  for  a 
special  cup  offered  by  the  Queen  of  Spain,  both 
«.f  which  races  the  Spokane  won.  On  the  third 
day,  in  a  light  wind,  we  came  in  second.  When 
the  wind  blew  with  any  great  force  the  American 
boats   easily   outraced   the   Spaniards. 

"At  San  Sebastian  the  course  runs  into  the  fojt 
of  some  steep  mountains,  and  the  wind  rises  from 
tne  sea  about  three  or  four  miles  out.  The  first 
day  there  was  a  little  strength  to  the  wind  and  the 
Spokane  won,  but  on  the  next  three  days  the  wind 
was  again  light  and  the  Doriga,  the  Spanish  yacht, 
was  easily  first. 

"In  summarizing,  it  might  be  said  that  it  would 
be  quite  an  impossibility  to  build  a  boat  that  would 
win  at  i\iarblehead,  then  at  Kiel  and  then  at  San 
Sebastian.  The  weather  and  water  conditions  are 
radically  different  in  each  place.  The  Germans  will 
probably  come  to  America  for  a  return  race  in 
1909." 


"Unless  more  stringent  laws  are  passed  for  their 
protection,  it  is  a  matter  of  only  a  few  years  when 
antelope  will  be  extinct  in  the  United  States;  in 
fact,  they  are  in  greater  danger  of  becoming  extinct 
than  the  buffalo." 

Dr.  Theodore  S.  Palmer,  head  of  the  division  of 
game  protection,  United  States  biological  survey, 
department  of  agriculture,  made  the  foregoing  state- 
ment on  his  tour  of  the  Pacific  Northwest  in  the 
interest   of   game  birds  and   animals,   adding: 

"In  the  state  of  Washington  the  hunter  is  allowed 
to  kill  only  one  antelope  during  the  season,  but 
even  this  is  too  much.  The  antelope  is  not  a  prolific 
animal.  Furthermore,  it  does  not  live  except  in 
the  arid  or  semi-arid  regions  or  on  certain  plains. 
It  does  not  thrive  in  confinement,  and  it  is  not 
easy  to  breed,  as  is  the  buffalo  or  bison.  The  con- 
sequence is  that  antelope  even  under  the  most 
favorable  conditions  do  not  become  very  numerous, 
and    are    rapidly   dying   out. 

"In  a  trip  through  Montana  and  Wyoming  I 
found  a  sentiment,  that  I  believe  is  strong  enough 
to  make  fairly  certain  the  passage  of  a  law  by  these 
states,   to   protect   the   antelope   absolutely   for   a   num- 


ber of  years.  Washington  will,  I  believe,  co-operate 
to  save  the  antelope  in  the  eastern  part  of  the 
state.  To  absolutely  prohibit  killing  antelope  for  at 
least    five   years   would    be   a   great    thing. 

"Another  thing  in  which  the  division  of  game 
protection  is  especially  interested  is  to  get  a  correct 
enumeration  of  the  game  animals  and  birds  killed 
each  year  in  the  United  States.  Until  we  can  do 
this,  we  can  not  tell  whether  the  rate  of  killing 
is  greater  than  the  rate  of  increase,  information 
on  which  laws  for  game  preservation  should  be 
based.  This  enumeration  can  be  secured  if  the 
states  would  make  a  change  in  the  license  laws,  re- 
quiring each  license  holder  to  report  to  the  state 
or  county  game  wardens  the  amount  of  game  killed. 
The  law  can  be  enforced  by  refusing  to  renew  the 
license   of   those    who    do    not    report   their   kills. 

I  hope  that  the  next  session  of  Congress  will 
pass  a  bill  for  a  game  preserve  in  the  Olympic 
mountains.  I  desire  to  get  some  definite  informa- 
tion on  the  number  of  elk  in  the  Olympics  and 
the  mortality  rate.  The  elk  should  be  preserved. 
We  should  have  preserves  for  the  antelope,  too, 
in    the    regions    where    they    are    found." 

Dr.  Palmer  pointed  out  that  the  division  of  game 
protection  aims  to  co-operate  with  state  and  county 
game  authorities,  natural  history  and  Audubon 
societies  and  individuals  interested  in  the  preserva- 
tion of  animals  and  birds. 


John  Crawford,  state  superintendent  of  fish  hatch- 
eries in  Washington,  tore  out  a  fishtrap  built  by 
Indians  across  the  Methow  river  at  Pateros,  Okano- 
gan county,  northwest  of  Spokane,  a  few  days  ago, 
while  thirty  armed  bucks  stood  on  the  shore  and 
threatened  him  with  all  kinds  of  vengeance.  Their 
threats  did  not  deter  Crawford  in  the  least,  for 
he  went  ahead  with  his  work  and,  to  make  sure 
that  tiie  same  material  was  not  used  again,  he 
waited  till  the  debris  of  the  trap  was  floated  down 
the  middle  of  the  river  and  smashed  on  the  rocks 
below. 

The  action  was  taken  as  a  result  of  the  refusal 
of  the  Indians  to  remove  the  trap.  They  built  it 
there  to  avoid  working,  as  they  sold  the  salmon 
and  bought  liquor  with  the  proceeds.  While  John 
McA.  Webster,  captain,  U.  S.  A.,  and  Indian  agent 
at  Colville,  Wash.,  wrote  to  State  Fish  Commissioner 
Richland  that  he  would  have  the  Indians  tear  out 
the  traps,  it  is  said  that  he  sent  a  letter  to  the 
Colville  Indians  telling  them  they  had  a  right  to 
protect    their    traps,    with    guns    if    necessary. 

The  Indians  built  a  trap  from  shore  to  shore, 
making  it  impossible  for  salmon  to  get  to  the  state 
hatchery,  thirty-four  miles  above.  This  was  objected 
to  by  the  state,  and  while  the  officials  admit  the 
Indians  have  a  right  to  fish  half  the  stream,  as 
the  reservation  touches  the  west  bank  of  the  river, 
it  is  declared  they  have  no  right  to  block  it  from 
shore  to  shore.  Crawford  tore  out  half  of  the 
dam  and  left  the  other  portion  standing.  He  says 
he   does   not   think  they   will   rebuild   it. 


Car  No.  3,  bureau  of  fisheries  of  the  department 
of  commerce  and  labor,  in  charge  of  Capt.  T.  C. 
Pierce,    was    in    Spokane    recently.      Others    attached 


WESTEM   FIELD 


to  the  cat  being  W.  H.  Britton,  S.  E.  Cranston, 
P,  ,\.  Laumen  and  II.  B.  Shorter.  The  »wk  con- 
sists .'i  distribution  of  bah  among  the  lakes  through- 
out this  part  of  the  country.  The  party  came 
i  mm  the  fishery  at  Bozeman  and  will  return 
to  that  city  before  starting  on  another  trip.  Thou- 
sands of  tish  were  sent  to  the  surrounding  lab 
Spokane  Saturday.  The  tank*  contain  iM.uk  spotted 
trout,  brook  trout,  rainbow  trout  and  black  bass. 
Bach  tank  contains  from  1500  to  3000  fish.  Thirty- 
five  thousand  small-mouthed  bass  and  10.000  bream 
(vainly  of  sun  fish),  have  been  deposit,-. I  in  Silver 
Lake,  fourteen  miles  west  of  Spokane.  The  stock- 
ing of  this  body  of  water  was  accomplished  by  the 
efforts  of  Spokane  sportsmen,  prominent  among  whom 
are  T.  B,  and  Al  Ware.  It  is  given  out  that 
Clear   Lake   is   to   be   stocked   this    fall   with   bass. 


A  deer  hunt  in  which  a  mayor,  an  attorney- 
general  and  several  timid  bystanders  figured,  fur- 
nished entertainment  at  Wenatchee,  Wash.,  west 
of  Spokane,  a  few  days  ago.  Attorney-General 
Atkinson  of  the  state  of  Washington  and  Mayor 
Scheble  of  Wenatchee  were  the  two  chief  players 
in  the  comedy,  and  the  deer  were  two  of  the  tame 
variety  owned  by  the  mayor.  Several  small  boys 
let  the  animals  out  of  an  enclosure  and  they  ran 
into  the  fields.  The  mayor  started  after  them  and 
Atkinson  hurled  words  of  encouragement  and  advice 
from    the    Scheble    piazza. 

"Lassoo  the  critter,"  shouted  Atkinson.  "I'm 
afraid  the  brute  will  throw  the  hooks  into  me," 
replied  Scheble.  "Put  some  salt  on  his  tail,"  ad- 
vised a  small  boy.  "Give  him  a  big,  red  apple," 
said  another  urchin.  Scheble  chased  the  deer  around 
until  he  was  hot  ana  tired,  and  finally  captured  the 
two  denizens  of  the  forest  and  placed  them  in  the 
stable. 


and  are  engaged  in  the  slaughtei  •  >(  <  Ik 
without     regard    to    the    closed    season    or    the    limita- 

the    law    which    provides    that    nol    more 

elk  shall  be  taken  during  the  year.  Reports 
of  the  wanton  slaughter  were  made  by  timber  men 
win,  have  been  cruising  in  the  upper  country  and 
have  purchased  a  large  number  of  elk  teeth  from 
the  Indians.  The  Idaho  law  establishes  the  open 
season  for  elk  from  September  15th  to  January 
Nt.  hut  it  was  reported  that  the  Indians  killed 
more    than    their    quota    out    of 


Russell  Picrpont,  a  forest  ranger,  recently  killed 
a  fine  specimen  of  big-horn  (mountain  sheep)  in 
the  Cascade  range,  just  south  of  the  British  Colum- 
bia line  and  northwest  of  Spokane.  He  sent  the 
head  to  Chelan,  Wash.,  and  received  $50  for  it. 
It  was  frequently  declared  there  are  no  mountain 
sheep  in  the  Cascades  south  of  the  line,  but  Mr. 
Pierpont's  trophy  proved  the  contrary  of  the  theory. 
They  roam  down  into  the  rugged  peaks  around  the 
head   of   Lake   Chelan. 

The  Kettle  Falls  Rod  and  Gun  Club  of  Kettle 
Falls.  Wash.,  elected  these  officers  at  the  close  of 
a  big  hunt,  under  Captains  J.  C.  Wilson  and  O.  W. 
Noble,  won  by  the  former:  President,  J.  C.  Wilson; 
vice-president,  D.  M.  Richards;  secretary,  E.  H. 
Vaughan;  treasurer.  Archie  R.  Squires.  J.  A.  Taylor 
of  Dunkirk,  X.  V..  who  is  passing  several  weeks 
in  the  district,  north  of  Spokane,  was  unanimously 
elected   an   honorary   member   of   the  club. 


Frank  Palmer.  George  F.  Brill,  Jr.,  Bert  Palmer, 
J.  N.  Braden  and  Calvin  Proctor  of  Spokane  and 
George  Weintte  of  Valparaiso,  Neb.,  have  gone  into 
the  Metaline  country,  where  they  will  hunt  bear 
in    the   foothills   of   the    Cabinet    mountains. 


Complaints  have  been  filed  with  Deputy  Game 
Warden  Harbaugh  against  Indians  who  are  now 
camped  in  the  Orogrande  and  Washington  creek  sec- 
tions    of     the     upper     Clearwater     country,     south     of 


W.  I.  Gordon,  X.  Ryan,  E.  C.  MacDonald  and 
D.  D.  McPhee  of  Spokane,  recently  passed  three 
days  near  Jennings,  Mont.,  where  they  secured 
three  black  bears  and  forty  chickens.  The  largest 
bear    weighed    250    pounds. 


SEASON'S   YACHT    RACING   OF  SOUTH    COAST   YACHT   CLUB 


By  Herbert  E.  Carse 


HE  program  of  the  South  Coast  Yacht 
Club  for  the  season  just  finished 
included  thirteen  races.  Four  classes 
were  represented.  The  20-foot,  25- 
foot,  30-foot,  and  35-foot  classes, 
with  the  strongest  interest  centering 
in   the   rivalry   of  the   30-footers. 

The  two  imported  scows,  "Detroit" 
and  "Yankee,"  made  up  the  35-foot 
class.  Detroit  was  brought  to  this 
coast  by  a  San  Diego  syndicate  to 
defend  the  Lipton  cup.  She  was 
brought  to  San  Pedro  by  the  South  Coast  member, 
Byron  Erkenbrecker,  but  did  nothing  her  first 
season.  Ex- Commodore  Dodge  handles  her  tiller. 
When  Messrs.  Spruance  and  Bronson  shipped 
Yankee  in  from  the  East,  it  was  expected  that 
Detroit  might  be  beaten.  When  she  first  came  to 
San  Diego  she  had  1000  pounds  of  lead  lying  in- 
side on  her  double  diagonal  planking.  This  season 
her  centerboard  including  well,  weighing  3200 
pounds,  was  removed  and  a  fin  put  on  weighted  with 
1550  pounds  of  ballast.  She  did  not  balance  and 
her  old  rudder  was  removed  and  a  skeg  rudder 
put  in.  A  new  suit  of  sails  was  made  and  she 
appeared      to      do      well.      Inside      bulkheads      were 


placed  an 
in  day  tr 
trailed   in 

the    time 


i  she  was  fitted  up  for  general  comfort 
ps  and  cruises  to  Catalina.  Yankee  split, 
the  water,  and  lost  her  balloon  jib  about 
of    her    first    trial    race    and    did    not    get 


another.  She  she 
owners  seemed  ur 
Jack  Densham,  o 
in  San  Francisco 
sailed  light,  then 
inside  ballast  and 
She  is  fast  before  the 
wonderfully  high  and  sail 


red    up    in    bad    condition.       Her 

billing    to    put    her    in    condition. 

2    of    the     crew     of    the     Valkyrie 

is     her     skipper.       Yankee     was 

weighted     down     with     a    lot     of 

still    something    was    the    matter. 

id,    at    times    she    points 

ell,  but  has  been  terribly 


beaten  by  Detroit  whenever  they 
gether,  except  in  the  race  off  Venice  when  Detroit 
broke  her  throat  halyards  and  went  a  long  way  out 
of  her  course  while  getting  in  shape  again.  Dodge 
does  not  consider  the  Detroit  equal  to  her  best 
speed  with  her  centerboard.  Yankee  is  a  disap- 
pointment. She  came  to  us  with  a  reputation  for 
speed,  but  so  far  has  not  been  able  to  hold  her 
own  boat  with  those  of  the  next  class  below  her. 
Detroit  is  47  feet  5*4  inches  O.  A.  and  28  feet 
8  inches  on  the  waterline;  Yankee,  44  feet  7H 
inches  O.  A.  and  30  feet  10J^  inches  on  the  water- 
line.  Detroit  carries  15  IS  feet  of  sail  against 
Yankee's    1627.      By    this    it    is    plain    that    the    latter 


WESTERN  FIELD 


boat  suffers  on  measurement  and  time  allowance. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  Yankee  went  over  35  feet 
racing  length,  but  was  made  scratch  on  her  length 
with    Detroit. 

In  the  30-foot  class  the  yawls  Minerva,  racing 
length  28.6,  and  Arrow,  29.7,  were  entered  on 
cruising  races  but  had  no  chance  with  the  sloops. 
Clement  Hebeler,  the  young  English  globe-trotter, 
owned  the  Minerva.  The  cleanliness  and  ship-shape 
condition  of  this  craft  is  proverbial.  To  touch  her 
snow  white  planking  was  the  signal  for  an  ex- 
plosion from  the  owner.  One  of  the  most  amusing 
occurrences  of  the  season  happened  when  she  was 
on  the  ways  being  overhauled  and  about  ready  for 
launching.  Joe  Fellows  drove  two  big  nails  into 
a  piece  of  plank  and  hung  this  block  by  two 
white  threads  from  the  rail.  When  Hebeler  appeared 
there  was  the  block  deliberately  nailed  to  his  spot- 
less planking  about  a  foot  above  the  water  line 
with  the  two  40d  nails.  The  explosion  is  his- 
toric and  for  once  the  genial  and  obliging  Hebeler 
removed  his  pipe  from  his  mouth  to  enable  him  to 
do  the  offence  justice.  The  Minerva  is  now  the 
property  of  Rufus  Spalding,  who  recently  purchased 
her.  Francis  Hay  owns  the  Arrow,  which  has 
auxiliary  power.  He  and  his  friends  are  daily 
cruising  about,  most  of  the  time  in  bathing  suits 
or  gymnasium  shirts  and  the  continual  exposure 
has    a    championship    tan. 

Columbine  of  the  racing  30-footers  has  carried 
away  more  cups  than  any  other  boat  in  the  fleet 
in  this  season's  races.  She  is  owned  and  sailed 
by  A.  J.  Mitchell.  Her  principal  rivals  were  the 
Monsoon,  owned  and  sailed  by  Jos.  Pugh,  lately 
sold  to  Commodore  Phillips  of  San  Francisco,  and 
Mischief  IT,  owned  by  Messrs.  Folsom  and  Birk. 
Mischief  I  came  out  a  few  times  in  this  class  and 
carried  away  first  prize  in  Santa  Barbara  in  one 
race,  being  sailed  there  by  Fritz  Whitney  of  the 
Columbine   crew.      Columbine   won   her  first   race   but 


showed  tack  of  Btability  with  the  1 000  pounds  on 
her  keel.  She  was  hauled  out  and  about  400 
pounds   mimic   lead   was   Bel    into  her   fin   in   squarea, 

After  this  she  stood  up  better.     Her  foreatay   c es 

to  her  stem  head,  the  floor  is  flat  with  rabbet 
curving  down  low,  short  water  line  and  good  beam 
with  a  low  freeboard  about  describes  her.  She 
does  well  on  the  wind  and  is  especially  fast  going 
before  it.  In  her  second  race  she  beat  Monsoon. 
Mischief  '•  broke  down.  In  her  third  race  Mis* 
chief  gave  her  a  terrible  beating.  The  wind  was 
a  good  stiff  one  and  Columbine  carried  a  reef. 
Her  deck  was  made  of  cedar  strips  and  the  crew 
laid  their  defeat  to  the  leaking  of  the  deck  keep- 
ing her  full  of  writer.  Her  deck  was  covered  with 
canvas  before  the  next  race.  Later  Mischief  took 
the  extra  lead  out  of  her  fin,  which  was  followed 
by  a  race  at  Venice  in  a  rough  sea.  She  sailed 
off  to  leeward  hopelessly  beaten  by  Columbine 
and  went  back  to  San  Pedro  refusing  to  enter 
the  race  next  day.  This  lead  was  immediately 
replaced  and  the  boat  came  back  to  good  work  again. 
Walter  Folsom  handles  Mischief  II.  Folsom 
sailed  the  Valkyrie  in  the  cup  race  on  San  Fran- 
cisco bay.  Monsoon  is  a  Gardner  design,  which 
Pugh  ordered  direct.  The  building  of  this  boat, 
and  its  likely  chance  of  beating  Mischief  I,  then 
the  champion,  caused  Fellows  and  Folsom  to  pro- 
duce Mischief  II,  which  has  proved  faster  than 
Monsoon  without  doubt  in  the  two  seasons  they 
have  been  out.  Mischief  II  and  Monsoon  both 
beat  Aeolus,  the  San  Diego  built  defender  in  the 
Lipton  race.  Mischief  II  was  champion  of  this 
class  until  Columbirte  appeared.  It  is  to  the 
credit  of  Monsoon  that  she  won  all  the  ocean 
races  against  all  of  her  class,  particularly  the  first 
race  around  Catalina  when  a  blow  was  encountered 
in  the  night.  She  is  better  than  the  other  boats 
in     extremely     rough     water,    has     more     ballast     and 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


387 


easier  form  for  dropping  in  a  heavy  sea.  Her 
specifications  are  far  better  than  those  of  any  other 
small  boat  ever  put  out  in  this  vicinity.  She  went 
ashore  at  Venice  at  S  o'clock  one  night  and  laid 
on  the  beach  that  night  and  all  through  the  next 
day  through  a  heavy  surf  till  4  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  when  a  tug  pulled  her  off.  She  did  not 
leak  a  drop,  and  sailed  next  day  in  a  race.  Few 
boats  would  have  stood  such  treatment  without 
going  to  pieces  and  the  way  Monsoon  stood  it 
was  a  great  tribute  to  strong  design  and  honest 
construction.  The  fin  wallowed  a  hole  in  the 
rather  soft  beach  and  this  immediate  space  of  slushy 
sand  and  water  undoubtedly  cased  her.  The  South 
Coast  yachtsmen  are  very  sorry  to  see  the  Mon- 
soon   leave    the    fleet. 

Skidoo  was  built  by  Chas.  Wedgwood  on  West 
Jfirst  street  in  Los  Angeles  and  hauled  to  San 
Pedro.  This  is  the  fourth  boat  that  has  been 
brought  out  by  this  yachting  enthusiast  in  this 
way;  Marie,  another  of  the  30-footers,  and  Helene — 
now  used  as  a  cruiser  only,  came  after  Defender 
Jr.,  long  since  in  the  boneyard.  Skidoo  had  her 
bottom  changed  early  in  the  season,  her  new  sails 
were  slow  in  arriving,  and  there  was  and  still 
is  trouble  with  her  gaff,  but  in  the  arbitary  handi- 
cap, October  13th,  she  took  first  prize.  The  fol- 
lowing are  the  measurements  of  the  four  leaders 
in    the    30-foot    class; 

Columbine  O.  A.  46  ft.  7  in.  W.L.  23ft.ll  in.  S.  A.  1169 
Mischief  II      "      42  "  10     "       "      24"    7SA  "        "     1194 

I      '•      37  "    2H  "       '"      25  "    V/,  "       "    1Q73 
i.      43  ..    6^  ..       ..      24  ..    9J6..       ..     ing 

Marie,  another  of  the  30-footers,  has  raced  but 
little     this     season.       Wedgwood     sold     her    to    three 


new  club  members  and  they  content  themselves 
with    cruising. 

In  the  25-foot  class,  Venus,  owned  and  sailed 
by  Knolly  Bradley,  has  really  nothing  to  compete 
with  her.  Valkyrie,  Merlin,  the  old  time  Osborn, 
and  Muriel  are  in  her  class,  but  no  one  expects 
any  of  them  to  come  near  her.  Merlin  was  built 
from  a  design  borrowed  from  Crowninshield,  and 
Valkyrie  is  the  Merlin  model  worked  over  by  Joe 
Fellows.  Valkyrie  is  better  than  Merlin  by  a  long 
margin.  Jerry  Squires  and  his  brother  own  these 
two  boats.  Osborn  formerly  had  for  her  skipper 
ex-Commodore  Dodge,  now  on  the  Detroit,  and  Jack 
Densham,  now  skipper  of  Yankee.  Herbert  Ash- 
bridge  owns  her  at  present,  and  handles  her  well. 
Muriel  belongs  to  Victor  Stewart,  present  Com- 
modore of  the  South  Coast  Club ;  she  is  more  of 
a   cruiser  than   anything  else  and  not   especially   fast. 

In  the  small  class  of  20-footers  Myth,  owned 
and  sailed  by  Richardson,  is  champion.  This  is 
a  little  ship,  as  she  can  go  anywhere  any  of  the 
fleet  can  go.  Portola  is  a  smaller,  lighter  boat 
which  does  very  well  in  moderate  weather.  Mr.  Mellen 
and  his  wife  handle  this  latter  boat  in  cruising  and 
racing.  Hilda  is  an  imported  boat  brought  from 
Holland  by  John  Bradbury.  She  is  sharp  at  both 
ends  and  a  deep  fin.  When  she  came  she  had  iron 
floor  frames,  was  planked  with  teak  and  carried 
a  flying  jib.  She  sails  very  well  and  is  owned 
by  Conrad  Smith,  who  gets  as  much  pleasure  for 
his  friends  and  himself  out  of  this  small  boat  as 
may  be  expected  of  an   owner  in  his  floating  palace. 

Next  year  the  Universal  racing  rule  goes  into 
effect,  which  means  new  handicaps,  and  the  measure- 
ments may  be  instrumental  in  shifting  the  honors. 


HAWAII   TO    HAVE   YACHT    DESIGNED   BY   CROWNINSHIELD    IN    RACE 

ACROSS   PACIFIC   OCEAN    FROM   CALIFORNIA   TO 

THE   DIAMOND   HEAD 

Bv  Harry  H.  Dunn 


YACHTSMEN  all  over  the  United  States  will 
be  interested  in  the  remrakable  entry  which 
Hawaii  will  make  in  the  coming  trans-Pacific 
race  which  will  begin  in  California  and  end  at 
Diamond  Head  in  the  far  off  isles  of  the  southern 
seas. 

And  Honolulu  yachtsmen,  who  propose  to  enter 
the  new  candidates  are  determined  that  California, 
Colorado,  British  Columbia  and  whatever  other 
states  make  entries,  shall  have  to  work  for  every 
trophy    they    win. 

With  the  result  of  last  year's  contest,  sailed  from 
San  Pedro  owing  to  the  fire  in  San  Francisco, 
the  Hawaiians  realized  that  the  Hawaii  Yacht 
Club  was  not  properly  represented  by  the  little 
"La  Paloma,"  which  was  practically  out  of  the 
race  from  the  start.  This  time  they  have  determined 
to  put  more  money  into  their  representative  and 
have    obtained    a    design    from    B.    B.    Crowninshield 


of  Boston.  F.  N.  Tandy,  who  represents  the 
Honolulu  syndicate,  is  now  in  Boston,  superintending 
the    deails    of    construction. 

It  seems  to  be  the  intention  of  the  coming  owners 
of  the  boat  to  take  a  large  time  allowance  with 
a  fast  craft  of  only  moderate  dimensions.  This 
plan  will  give  them  a  yacht  which  will  be  at  once 
seaworthy  and  salable,  no  matter  what  the  out- 
come of  the  race  may  be.  The  water  line  length 
of  the  new  boat  will  be  52  feet,  thus  providing 
a  schooner  which  a  small  crew  can  handle  easily. 
The  total  length  of  the  boat  will  be  only  68  feet 
and  all  of  this  length  will  be  boat,  while  the  over- 
hang is  the  same  at  both  ends — eight   feet. 

A  return  to  the  modelling  of  some  of  the  old 
time  yachts  such  as  the  "Genesta,"  "Galatea"  and 
"America,"  is  suggested  by  the  shape  of  the  new 
keel.  The  draught  is  about  ten  feet,  extending 
from    the    curve    at    the    heel    of    the    rudder    almost 


388 


WESTERN  FIELD 


tally    straight    till    it    turns    ;it    a    sharp    sngli 
to    inn    in    one    straighl    line    to    the    bobstay.      The 

flat  hut!. .in  i>f  the  keel  is  twenty  two  feet,  but, 
counting  the  curve,  is  t  w  enty-three  feet  long  on 
its  lowei  edge.  This  will  give  the  boat  a  trc- 
mendous    grip    on    the   water   for   windward   work. 

A  lateral  sketch  of  the  design  of  the  boat  the 
ll.tw.uiuns  are  to  have  resembles  to  a  great  extent 
the  keel  of  the  "Livonia,"  which  raced  for  the 
cup  in  1871,  more  than  it  does  that  of  any  other 
..f  the  great  yachts  which  have  sailed  in  American 
v\  .iti  i  ■;. 

The  distance  from  deck  to  main  truck  is  sixty- 
eight    feet,    and    to    the    fore    truck    sixty    feet,    while 


to  starboard.  On  the  port  side  arc  lockers,  charts 
and   toilet, 

The  main  cabin  has  a  sideboard,  together  with 
four  berths  and  seats,  and  extends  the  full  width 
of  the  ship.  In  the  galley  there  is  a  stove,  sink 
and  ice  chest  as  well  as  every  other  convenience 
for  the  cook.  The  forward  descent  is  through  a 
covered  hatch,  just  aft  of  the  foremast,  a  great 
convenience  when  heavy  seas  are  washing  over  the 
front    part    of   the   boat. 

Frank  Garbutt'a  new  schooner,  the  "Slridbaldnir," 
recently  launched,  is  supposed  to  measure  eighty- 
two  feet  on  the  water  line.  If  so,  she  will  have 
to  give  the   Honolulu   racer   fifteen   hours  in   the  total 


v"\      ~±'  ■ 


'Lurline"— H.    H.    Sinclaii 
ner  of  Last  Year's  Trans- 


Owner 

'acinc   Ra 


the  squaresail  yard  for  fair  weather  is  thirty-six 
feet.  These  figures  will  give  some  idea  of  the 
boat's  sail  area.  The  main  sail  luff  is  33  feet;  main 
boom,  37;  main  topmast  to  upper  sheave,  27,  and 
the  fore  boom,  17.  A  good  side  will  be  shown 
out  of  water,  about  six  feet  at  the  bows,  while 
the  lowest  freeboard  will  be  three  feet,  six  inches. 
The  extreme  beam  of  the  projected  boat  is 
seventeen  feet.  This  allows  eight  berths  aft  of 
the  galley  and  four  bunks  forward.  The  com- 
panionway  descends  near  the  main  mast  with  an 
easy  curve  into  a  vestibule,  from  which  opens  a 
large    stateroom    aft,    with    another    one    of    like    size 


run  of  approximately  2500  miles.  This  is  figured 
out  on  the  allowance  of  one  half  hour  for  every 
foot    of   water-line   length. 

The  "Lurline,"  winner  of  last  year's  race,  will 
take  about  five  hour's  allowance  from  Garbutt's 
boat.  Frank  Dorr's  ketch,  the  "Yankee  Girl,"  is 
about  the  same  size  as  the  boat  the  Hawaiians  are 
having  built  and  will  be  put  in  shape  for  the  race. 
The  "Lurline"  may  enter  again,  and  it  is  certain 
that  Charles  L.  Putt's  "Anemone,"  92  feet  on  the 
water-line,  and  which  won  second  prize  last  summer, 
will  be  in  the  contest  this  time.  In  all,  about 
ten  yachts  are  being  prominently  mentioned  as 
entries   for   the   race. 


FOR   A   GOOD    PURPOSE 


NUMBER  of  fanciers  of  the 
English  setter  and  the  pointer 
have  formed  a  setter  and 
pointer  club  for  the  improve- 
ment of  the  breeds  and  seeing 
that  they  get  better  treatment 
at  the  shows  than  have  been 
accorded  them  for  a  number 
of  years  past.  The  time  was 
when  the  setters  and  pointers 
formed  nearly  and  some  times  more  than  half 
of  the  entire  entry  to  our  shows,  but  the 
selecting  of  toy-dog  judges,  terrier  judges  and 
the  like  to  pass  upon  a  breed  of  which  they 
had  no  knowledge  drove  the  fanciers  of 
these  breeds  out  of  the  ring.  For  several 
years  past,  in  asking  setter  or  pointer  owners 
who  really  knew  what  these  breeds  were,  if 
they  were  going  to  show  their  dogs  the  com- 
mon answer  would  be  "Not  much !  My  dog 
is  too  good  to  be  shown  under  judges  that 
don't  know  anything  about  the  breed." 

These  men  are  willing  to  show  their  dogs 
if  they  know  that  the  judge  understands  what 
a  real  setter  or  pointer  is  or  should  look 
like,  but  they  are  certainly  right  in  refusing 
to  put  up  their  money  for  the  support  of  a 
show  that  cares  so  little  about  their  interests 
as  to  compel  them  to  show  under  a  terrier 
judge  and  submit  to  his  decisions. 

I  am  informed  that  the  plan  of  the  new 
club  is  to  show  in  strength  with  the  next 
Oakland  show  if  satisfactory  arrangements 
can  be  made  as  to  judges  and  other  matters, 
but  if  not  they  may  decide  to  hold  a  show 
themselves  composed  of  all  the  breeds  of 
bird  dogs. 

There  is  a  wide  field  for  the  energy  of 
the  young  club,  if  properly  directed.  There 
is  no  reason  why  the  best  field  dog  should 
not  be  the  best  show  dog,  and  I  don't  mean 
by  this  to  lower  the  standard  of  that  most 
beautiful  and  symmetrical  animal  by  elevating 


the  nondescript  racing  machines  of  the 
present  field  trial  fad  to  positions  of  winners 
on  the  bench.  Let  those  who  admire  these 
apple-headed,  long-legged  and  short-bodied 
dogs  breed  them  and  run  them  in  the  trials ; 
let  them  show  them,  too,  on  the  bench  if 
they  wish,  but  do  not  insult  the  beautifully 
formed  and  handsome  coated  English  setters 
by  calling  such  nondescripts  by  their  name. 
I  believe  it  is  the  intention  of  the  new 
club  to  make  a  strong  effort  to  re-establish 
the  true  type  of  the  English  setter.  There  are 
on  the  Coast  a  number  of  dogs  and  bitches 
which,  if  properly  selected  in  mating,  have 
sufficient  of  the  best  features  of  the  true 
type  to  give  a  good  foundation  for  this  re- 
habilitization.  Not  all,  or  even  many  of  these 
may  be  bred  on  what  is  termed  fashionable 
blood  lines  from  the  field  trial  standpoint, 
but  the  true,  undeteriorated  setter  blood  is 
there,  with  all  the  hunting  instinct  of  the 
race.  Eet  these  be  nicked  so  as  to  produce 
the  right  type  and  form,  and  we  will  have 
dogs  with  plenty  of  speed  and  more  endurance 
than  a  whole  corral  full  of  the  present  weedy 
degenerates.  Breeding  and  interbreeding  to 
the  "fashionable"  sires  has  not  developed 
better  bird  dogs  in  the  last  twenty  years,  but 
it  has  developed  more  legs,  more  nervousness, 
more  excitability  with  less  brains,  less  bird- 
sense,  less  staunchness,  less  nose,  less  stamina, 
less  endurance  and  less  beauty.  The  net  result, 
then,  is  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  ledger  and 
the  sooner  the  account  can  be  balanced  by 
getting  back  the  better  qualities  of  the  bird 
dog  that  have  been  lost,  the  better  it  will 
be  for  the  future  of  the  breed.  It  will  take 
years  of  patient  effort  and  careful  study  to 
accomplish  this  and  again  place  the  breed  in 
the  peerless  place  it  once  occupied,  but  it  can 
be  done  if  the  right  selections  are  made 
through  an  unselfish  study  of  true  type  and 
form. 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Brooklyn    Patsy 


A    RARE   GOOD   ONE 


BROOKLYN  PATSY,  that  grand  little  crack  bull 
terrier  owned  by  Mrs.  Horton  F.  Phipps  of 
the  Fairmont  Hotel,  San  Francisco,  has  added 
fresh  laurels  to  the  already  long  string  of  victories 
achieved  during  his  short  but  sensational  career  on 
the  bench,  and  has  again  demonstrated  his  high  class 
and  quality  by  winning  the  Special  Trophy  for  the 
best  dog,  any  breed,  at  the  recent  meeting  of  the 
Stockton  Kennel  Club.  As  a  stylish  shower  he  has 
received  compliments  and  commendations  from 
handlers  and  authorities  in  dogdom  wherever  he 
has  been  shown.  To  see  this  great  terrier  pose  in 
the  ring  is  a  real  treat.  His  mistress — who  always 
shows  him  in  the  ring  herself — does  not  have  to  hold 
him  with  a  leash  as  he  stands  like  a  marble  statue 
and  virtually  shows  himself.  Standing  in  the  ring 
with  his  little  slant  black  eyes  half  closed  and  licking 
his  pink  chops,  he  makes  a  picture  which  always 
creates  great  enthusiasm  among  the  spectators 
gathered  around  the  judging  ring.  At  the  Stockton 
Show,  under  Judge  George  W.  Clayton  of  Chicago, 
he  repeated  the  success  which  gave  him  the  coveted 
red,  white  and  blue  rosette  at  the  San  Francisco 
Show  under  Judge  George  Raper  of  England,  beating 


the  same  dogs.  Brooklyn  Patsy  is  two  years  old, 
a  pure  white  bull  terrier  with  all  the  dash,  fire  and 
substance  which  go  to  make  up  a  thoroughbred  of 
this  type.     He  weighs  forty-five  pounds. 

His  winnings  are  as  follows :  At  Oakland,  1907, 
Judge,  James  Mortimer  of  Hemstead,  N.  Y. — First 
in  Novice  Class;  first  in  Limit  Class;  winner  of 
the  Jennie  A.  Crocker  Cup  for  best  Novice  Bull 
Terrier  in  the  show.  Special — Winner  of  the  Chas. 
K.  Harley  Cup,  for  best  dog  or  bitch,  smooth  terrier 
variety  class.  This  cup  carries  an  exceptionally 
high  honor  with  it,  as  the  list  of  smooth-coated  ter- 
riers at  the  Oakland  Show  were  a  very  classy  lot, 
among  them  being  the  Hampshire  Kennels,  Fox 
Terriers  (Champion  Wandee  Knight)  and  Miss  Jennie 
A.  Crocker's  Boston  Terrier  Champion  Endcliffe 
Tortora. 

At  San  Francisco,  1907,  Judge,  George  Raper  of 
Gomersal,  England — First  Limit ;  first  Open ;  first 
Winners.  Special  for  best  Eastern  bred  bull  ter- 
rier in  the  show.  W.  W.  Richard's  cup  for  best 
bull  terrier  dog  in  the  show. 

At  Stockton,  Cal.,  Judge,  George  W.  Clayton  of 
Chicago — First     Limit;     first     Open;     first     Winners; 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


391 


special  for  Lest  dog  in  the  show;  the  McKay  and 
Leonard  Cup  for  best  terrier,  either  sex,  in  show ; 
A.  M.  Barnett  Cup  for  best  dog  owned  and  ex- 
hibited in  the  ring  by  a  lady;  L.  M.  Keagle  for  best 
bull  terrier;  E.  M.  Wolfe  Cup  for  best  bull  terrier 
bred   outside   of   California. 


HE'S   GOT   THEM   AT   LAST 

JUDGE  POST  of  Sacramento  is,  I  believe,  the  only 
charter  member  left  in  the  Pacific  Coast  Field 
Trial  Club,  and  has  at  various  times  owned  and 
bred  some  of  the  best  dogs  ever  seen  at  our  trials. 
Of  late  years  the  Judge's  ideas  on  dogs  have  under- 
gone a  considerable  change  and  he  has  not  started 
anything  in  the  trials  for  the  good  and  sufficient 
reason  that  he  has  not  been  able  to  get  hold  of  that 
combination  of  blood  that  would  produce  just  the 
kind  of  dog  to  meet  the  formula  which  his  new  ideas 
of  form,  character  and  disposition  had  evolved.  The 
Judge  is  not  only  a  great  lover  of  music,  but  he  is 
also  blessed  with  a  talent  in  this  line  of  no  mean 
degree,  as  is  well  known  to  the  older  members  of  the 
club,  whose  slumbers  have  often  been  broken,  in  the 
Judge's  younger  days,  by  the  sweet  notes  of  his  voice 
reverberating  through  the  halls  and  corridors  of  the 
"Southern."  What  is  more  natural  than  that  in 
evolving  a  new  setter  his  aesthetic  fancy  should  desire 
that  a  musical  qualification  should  be  a  part  of  the 
higher  merits  of  the  new  evolution,  and  stand  well 
up  in  the  score  of  points  on  the  card.  In  addition  to 
being  born  exceedingly  handsome,  nature  has  further 
endowed  the  Judge  with  his  full  share  of  luck,  and 
therefore  in  his  search  for  the  blood  lines  that  he 
wanted  in  order  to  produce  his  new  ideal,  his  luck 
has  played  an  important  part;  the  very  first  litter 
of  the  new  combination  has  filled  the  heart  of  the 
genial  Judge  with  unbounded  delight.  In  proof  of 
this  I  submit  as  "exhibits  A  and  B"  two  letters 
from  a  gentleman  in  the  country  who  had  for  a 
time  been  taking  care  of  a  couple  of  the  Judge's  new 
ideals : 

Dear  Judge: — Before  you  start  to  read  this  you 
will  know  just  about  the  contents,  for  you  are  already 
informed  that  I  have  never  succeeded  in  winning  the 
puppies'  confidence  sufficiently  to  get  them  to  allow 
any  suggestions  from  me  to  influence  their  move- 
ments. They  have  loped  over  these  hills  with  a 
light  heart  each,  scattering  live  stock  and  dismay 
and  doing  it  with  absolute  impartiality  as  to  whether 
it  was  me  or  one  of  the  neighbors  that  provided  the 
wherewithal  for  their  entertainment.  They  are  well 
if  not  favorably  known  at  all  points  within  five  miles 
of  the  ranch  here.  Don,  being  the  more  ambitious, 
always  took  the  lead  and  hunts  with  such  speed  that 
Gleam  usually  lost  sight  of  hira  before  they  had 
gone  a  quarter  of  a  mile;  but  Gleam  also  does  some 
things  promptly,  and  soon  as  it  permeated  his  being 
that  he  was  alone  he  would  squat  on  his  southern 
exposure  and  pointing  his  nose  skyward  wail  long 
and  loud,  and  do  it  again  and  again  until  Don  would 
return  for  him.  As  a  hunter  I  rate  Don  A  one,  and 
for  a  wailer  Gleam  is  my  one  best  bet.  In  spite  of 
the  frequency  with  which  Gleam  wails,  stock  in  his 
immediate  vicinity  when  he  is  wailing  seem  to  scare 
just  as  badly  now  as  they  did  at  the  first  vocal  out- 
pouring  of  his   grief-stricken   heart. 

When   it  has  been   a  quiet  day  and   Gleam  has  not 


been  lost  as  many  times  as  he  feels  is  his  due,  he  re- 
lieves his  pent-up  feelings  by  locating  near  the  house 
and  in  a  slow,  painstaking  way  running  the  scale 
of  his  mournful  tones.  He  is  conscientious;  and  if 
in  the  night  the  thought  occurs  to  him  that  his  day- 
light practice  was  not  sufficiently  done  he  promptly 
gets  under  way  again.  Since  Mrs.  Duke  went  to 
the  city  for  the  opera  season  the  puppies'  playfulness 
through  the  flower  beds  has  not  been  so  severely 
commented  on. 

Dear  Judge: — Your  cheerful  missive  came  today. 
Feel  sort  of  sneaking  on  sending  those  puppies  back 
for  your  defenseless  family  to  have  to  put  up  with, 
but  my  neighbors  are  developing  signs  of  doing 
something  really  rash  to  those  puppies,  so  it  is 
speed  them  away  or  miss  their  bright  faces  forever. 


FIELD   TRIAL    NOTES 

IN  THE  British  Columbia  trials  the  canny  Scotch- 
man, W.  B.  Coutts,  got  away  with  about  the 
whole  cheese  in  the  derby.  Winning  first  with 
S.  Christensen's  English  setter  St.  Ives,  second  with 
T.  E.  Terry's  Ell's  Linda,  and  E.  Courtney  Ford's 
Tiburon,  dividing.  J.  E.  Lucas  won  third  with  John 
W.  Considine's  Policy  Boy.  In  the  all-age,  Charley 
Coutts,  a  chip  off  the  old  block,  won  first  with 
H.  H.  Abbott's  Abbott's  Jock,  second  with  G.  W. 
Hutching's  Tony  Spot  and  half  of  third  with 
B.  &  B.  Kennel's  Queenie  (all  setters  but  Queenie). 
Then  Charley  put  a  fitting  finale  to  the  meeting  by 
winning  the  championship  stake  with  Abbott's 
Jock. 

In  the  Pacific  Northwest  trials  W.  B.  Coutts  and 
the  California  dogs  got  the  lion's  share  in  derby, 
E.  Courtney  Ford's  Tiburon  winning  first,  and  S. 
Christensen's  St.  Ives  third.  Silver  Lining,  owned 
by  Frank  Atkins,  handled  by  Hanson,  taking  sec- 
ond. In  the  all-age,  Lucas  of  the  California 
handlers  was  the  only  one  in  the  money  with  a 
California-bred  dog  owned  by  John  Considine  of 
Seattle,  "winning  first  with  McCloud  Boy.  D.  G. 
Macdonnell  owned  and  handled  Sport's  Rip  Rap 
and  Glee  Boy,  winners  respectively  of  second  and 
third. 

The  California  dogs  in  both  the  British  Columbia 
and  Pacific-Northwest  trials  showed  to  good  ad- 
vantage, even  though  in  the  latter  trials  some  of 
the  dogs  drank  some  water  that  played  havoc  with 
them  and  did  much  to  lessen  their  show  of  high 
quality. 

Now  that  T.  J.  A.  Tiedemann,  the  Secretary  of  the 
Pacific  Coast  Field  Trials  Club,  has  returned  from 
his  extended  trip  to  Europe,  we  may  expect  to  see 
something  doing  in  the  way  of  preparations  for  the 
twenty-fifth  trials  of  the  club.  Tiedemann  is  a 
hustler  when  he  gets  a-going,  and  he  is  pretty  sure 
to  get  a  full  head  of  steam  on  after  his  long  vaca- 
tion. The  quarter  century  trials  of  the  club  should 
be  marked  with  an  extra  degree  of  vigor  and  interest. 
From  the  reports  coming  from  the  young  dogs  that 
have  been  campaigning  through  the  trials  up  north, 
we  may  expect  to  see  clinkers  put  down  when  the 
word  is  given  at  Bakersfield.  Add  to  these  the 
dogs    in    the    hand    of    the    other    handlers    who    did 


392 


WESTERN  FIE1  D 


nol  tike  in  ill 
look  bright  (..,- 
..I  the  club. 


rthern    circuit) 


id   the  prospects 
B   in    the  history 


SAN    MATEO   CLUB   ELECTION 

THE  following  officers  have  been  elected  fur  the 
tiing  year  by  the  San  Mateo  Kennel  Club: 
W  \\  Stettheimer,  president;  Chas.  K.  Harley, 
first  vice-president;  Francis  Carolan,  second  vice-presi- 
denl ;  Irving  C  ^cki  rm  in  ecretary-tn  ssurer,  and 
Miss  leniii,  A.  Crocker  and  O.  A.  Hayes.  Jr.,  di- 
rectors. 

The    success    of    the    last    show    given    by    the    club 
insures  its  future  favor  by  the  show-going  public. 


CALLED   TO   ACCOUNT 

AFTER  a  good  deal  of  talk  and  a  strong  effort 
to  secure  some  kind  .»f  peaceful  settlement  by 
which  the  fanciers  of  America  might  have  some 
voice  in  the  government  of  their  affairs,  the  so-called 
"American  Kennel  Club,  Incorporated"  has  been 
brought  before  the  bar  of  justice,  a  receiver  ap- 
pointed to  take  possession  of  the  $20,000  now  in  the 
possession  of  the  incorporators,  and  contributed  by 
the  fancy,  the  Stud  Books  and  all  other  property 
illegally  Held  by  the  half  dozen  star-chamber  in- 
corporators. They  have  also  been  enjoined  from 
using  a  dollar  of  this  money  in  their  defense  or  for 
any  other  purpose,  and  from  performing  any  official 
acts  relating  to  the  duties  or  functions  of  the  old 
A.  K.  C. 

The  complaint  upon  which  his  action  was  based 
is  a  long  one,  containing  twenty  counts,  among 
which  are:  Secretly  and  illegally  incorporating; 
publishing  false  statements  regarding  the  provisions 
of  the  constitution  adopted  for  the  government  of 
the  alleged  incorporation;  obtaining  the  property  of 
the  regularly  organized  A.  K.  C.  by  deception  and 
fraud ;  electing  themselves  to  office  and  directors 
under  constitutional  provisions  which  would  per- 
petuate their  power  for  whatever  time  they  saw  fit 
to  maintain  it,  giving  to  the  eight  incorporators 
the  sole  power  of  making  whatever  rules  they  saw 
fit,  and  disqualifying  any  dog  or  any  person  without 
the  possibility  of  appeal  to  the  elected  delegates  of 
the  several  clubs  that  were  to  be  taxed  for  their 
support.     The  outcome  is  awaited  with  interest. 

SOUTHERN    DOG   SHOWS 

THE  spring  circuit  of  dog  shows  is  already  being 
mapped  out.  Pasadena  is  to  be  the  starting 
point  as  far  as  heard  from,  holding  a  show  on 
February  14th  and  15th.  Los  Angeles  is  to  follow 
this  on  the  19th  to  22d  of  the  same  month  with  the 
promise  of  a  big  entry,  and  as  it  will  be  held  in  the 
height  of  the  tourist  season  an  assured  large  attend- 
ance. The  club  promises  an  extra  fine  and  numerous 
array  of  specials  for  the  occasion  as  well  as  the 
large  list  of  trophies  always  offered  by  interested 
friends. 

The  question  of  judges  has  not  yet  been  settled, 
but  in  all  probability  they  will  be  from  the  East. 
The  bench  show  committee  is  a  strong  one  and  con- 
sists of  the  following  well  known  gentlemen :  Jaro 
\  on  Schmidt,  Kingsley  Stevens,  Kenneth  Preuss,  Dr. 


I     W,  Young,  C.  T.  Torrey,  Richard  Halsted,  \V.  K. 

Peasley,     Ernest     K<- ■,!>-,    R.    T.    Cochran,    Huron 

koclc,  Paul  Piepers,  1'.  N.  Nissen,  with  G.  F.  Hers 
as  chairman.  Mr.  J.  II.  Pearman  has  been  selected 
'    superintendent  and  secretary  of  the  show. 


SETTER  AND    POINTER   CLUB 

SEVERAL  of  the  owners  and  fanciers  of  those 
most  useful  of  all  dogs,  the  setters  and  pointers, 
living  in  and  near  to  San  Francisco,  recently 
organized  the  Pacific  Coast  Setter  and  Pointer  Club. 
The  officers  elected  are  as  follows:  R.  H.  Grover, 
president;  George  W.  Ellery  and  Fred  W.  Butler, 
vice-presidents;  Victor  Kuehn,  treasurer,  L.  W. 
Spriggs,  secretary,  and  T.  J.  Blight,  Wm.  McKay 
and  H.  B.  Knox,  bench  show  committee.  The  young 
club  starts  out  with  a  good  membership  and  a 
strong  resolution  to  push  these  breeds  to  the  front 
in  our  bench  shows,  by  breeding  the  proper  type 
and   then    having   it    properly  judged. 


MR.   BABCOCK    DEMURS 

Editor  Western  Field, 
San  Francisco. 
Dear  Sir: — In  reading  the  article  entitled  "Pacific 
Coast  Field  Trials"  in  your  issue  of  November,  it 
occurred  to  my  mind  that  several  statements  con- 
tained therein  are  hardly  borne  out  by  facts  and,  if 
taken  literally  by  those  not  in  a  position  to  know, 
could  not  but  work  harm  to  field  trials  in  general. 

Your  correspondent  would  give  the  impression  that 
the  handlers  teach  the  dogs  all  the  bad  habits  pos- 
sible, to  the  exclusion  of  what  should  be  taught 
them.  In  his  own  words  they  "instil  into  a  good 
puppy  the  very  reprehensible  habits  that  it  will  take 
months  of  hard  work  to  break  him  of."  He  then, 
to  make  sure  he  is  perfectly  understood,  likens  the 
dog  to  a  horse  and  says  he  has  been  taught  to  kick 
himself  out  of  the  harness,  demolish  the  sulky,  and 
some  more   of  like  nonsensical   statements. 

The  article  referred  to  begins  nicely,  ends  nicely, 
in  fact  the  last  paragraph  is  faultless  and  worthy  of 
re-reading,  but  the  balance  of  the  article  is  such  as 
to  give  the  impression  that  the  men  who  know  least 
about  handling  are  the  handlers,  and  those  who 
know  least  about  judging  are  the  judges.  Such 
being  the  case,  what  a  pity  that  the  author  could 
not  do  all  the  handling  and  judging  himself,  just  to 
give  us  an  example  of  a  faultless  field-trial. 

I  will  admit  that  not  all  puppies  have  worked  in  a 
faultless  manner,  "there  are  none  perfect,  no,  not 
one." 

There  is  a  time-honored  saying  that  "boys  will 
be  boys,"  and  in  an  experience  of  years,  in  which  I 
have  trained  a  good  many  dogs,  I  have  found  also 
that  "pups  will  be  pups";  and  the  most  foolish 
notion  that  I  ever  succeeded  in  dislodging  from 
under  my  hat  was  the  one  that  I  could  make  an  old 
dog  out  of  a  pup  in  the  season  allowed  us  in  Cali- 
fornia— from   October  to  January. 

There  is  some  hope  for  the  young  horse  "who 
kicks  himself  out  of  the  harness  and  sulky"  because 
he  has  not  had  time  to  learn  differently,  but — to  con- 
tinue the  metaphor  so  wisely  chosen  by  your  corre- 
spondent— there    is    little    hope    for    a    horse    who    has 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


393 


been    too    heavily   loaded   at   the   beginning)   abused,— 
balked,    because    his    driver    lacked    the   judgmenl    to 

go  slowly. 

The  balky  horse  and  the  dog  who  refuses  to 
work  are  in  the  same  class  and  both  likely  to  be 
products  of  too  much  haste. 

Break  your  pup  too  suddenly  from  chasing  rab- 
bits and  he  "blinks"  them.  Likewise  you  are  to  be 
congratulated  if  he  does  not  blink  his  birds  also; 
and,  if-  he  does  so  only  in  a  small  degree,  you  may 
say  good-bye  to  his  field-trial  prospects — his  nose 
does  not  appear  to  be  of  the  best  quality;  in  other 
words  he  doesn't  want  to  find  them. 

Make  him  stanch  and  steady  too  quickly  and  he 
becomes  over-cautious.  By  taking  proper  pains  you 
may  possibly  eradicate  this  habit  in  about  three 
years.  In  the  meantime  you  could  probably  have 
saved  about  two  years  of  a  hard  climb  by  not  sliding 
down  the  hill  in  the  first  place. 

So  far  this  has  referred  principally  to  puppies. 
Now  your  correspondent  would  have  us  believe  that 
an  up-to-date  field-trial  winner  cannot  make  a  good 
shooting-dog,  and  offers  in  proof  how  a  patron  says  he 
expended  thousands  and  didn't  even  get  a  good 
shooting  dog.  Perhaps  he  said  that,  but  I  feel  quite 
positive  it  was  not  in  this  connection  it  was  said,  for 
to  my  own  knowledge  and  to  the  knowledge  of  your 
correspondent,  said  patron  has  had  in  the  past 
eight  years  always  from  two  to  five  as  good  shooting 
dogs  at  his  command  as  any  man  need  ask,  and 
every    one    of    them    received    their    first    lessons    as 


field-trial     prospects,    and     nearly     all    of    them     were 

As  to  the  other  patron  who  is  falsely  represented 
as  dropping  out  of  the  game  for  the  same  reason : 
strange,  is  it  not,  that  he  has  shot  over  nothing  but 
winners  in  ten  years,  now  does  his  shooting  over 
two  field-trial  champions,  and  who  claims  that  "the 
better    the    field-trial    dog,    the    better    the    shooting 


If  I  were  to  point  to  the  reason  for  the  decadence 
of  the  Pacific  Coast  field  trials,  I  should  say  it  was 
for  lack  of  harmony. 

The  handlers  are  blamed  for  many  things  which 
are  due  entirely  to  natural  causes.  As  far  as  I  am 
able  to  judge  they  are  as  honest,  hardworking  a  lot 
as  can  be  found  anywhere.  They  are  honored  every- 
where but  at  home. 

Our  public  handlers  are  obliged  to  work  harder 
for  less  money  than  any  other  handlers  in  America. 
The  jackrabbits  alone  more  than  double  their  work, 
not  to  mention  the  many  other  drawbacks. 

If  the  management  would  do  as  all  other  clubs 
do — encourage  its  handlers  instead  of  handicapping 
them  by  obsolete  rules  and  uncalled-for  criticisms, 
and  pay  them  the  purses  for  which  they  have  run, 
we  might  yet  have  a  return  to  the  feeling  of  good- 
fellowship  and  the  days  of  prosperity  as  in  the 
years  past. 

C.  H.   BABCOCK. 
Del    Rey,   Cal. 


THE  STOCKTON    SHOW 


THE  Stockton  show,  held  on  October  14th  to 
16th,  proved  a  marked  success  in  management, 
i>ti  attendance  and  numbers  of  entries.  The  num- 
ber of  dogs  entered  was  219  with  but  few  absentees. 
The  officers  of  the  club  were  F.  N.  Vail,  president; 
W.  H.  Mackay  and  C.  E.  Owen,  vice-presidents; 
R.  H.  Groves,  treasurer,  and  A.  Mr  Barnett,  secre- 
tary. Thos.  J.  Blight  was  superintendent  and  filled 
the  position  to  perfection.  George  W.  Clayton 
judged  all  classes,  and  with  the  exception  of  some 
of  the  bull   terrier  class,   gave  general   satisfaction. 

The  large  breeds  were  few  in  numbers  and  with 
but  one  or  two  exceptions  lacking  in  desirable  qual- 
ity. Oakdene  Rex,  winners  in  St.  Bernards,  has  the 
body  and  bone  conformation,  but  is  lacking  in  head. 
In  Great  Danes  the  black  dog,  Nig,  winners,  and 
his  son,  Dick,  reserve  winners,  a  mouse-colored 
one  with  black  flecks  and  patches — it  would  be 
straining  a  point  to  call  him  a  harlequin — were  the 
two  best,  the  rest  being  mediocre.  Two  greyhounds, 
The  Widow  and  Mr.  Longers,  familiar  to  show- 
goers,  would  be  in  the  ribbons   at   any   show. 

American  foxhounds  brought  out  two  excellent  and 
workmanlike  entries,  Ned  and  Queenie.  Both  are  a 
good  type  and  were  shown  in  fine  condition. 

The  bird  dogs  were,  taking  them  generally,  a 
pleasing  lot.  Victor  Joaquin,  a  clean  headed  pointer 
dog  with  the  neck,  shoulders,  ribs,  loins  and  proper 
legs  and  feet,  could  not  be  denied  first  honors. 
Royal    Dan,   a  puppy,   reserve   winners,   has   the   head 


that  is  liked,  but  is  a  bit  too  light  in  body.  Uncle 
Det  beats  Mike  Geary  in  head  and  eyes.  Geary  has 
a  grand  body,  legs  and  feet.  Two  bitches,  Beauty 
Bell  and  Stockton  Belle,  placed  as  here  named,  are 
the  kind  that  lovers  of  the  gun  like. 

In  English  setters,  Tiverton  first  winners.  Fleet's 
Sargeant  reserve,  and  Mallwyd  Beau  first  puppy  and 
first  limit,  were  the  leaders.  Tiverton  goes  over 
Fleet  in  head  only.  Beau  shows  the  hall-marks  of 
his  sire  and  is  a  very  good  sort.  Lady  Dorrie  M.,  a 
litter  sitter  of  Beau,  was  the  sole  bitch  entry  and 
is   built   on   the  same  lines. 

Gordon  setters  were  hardly  up  to  the  average  of 
recent  shows.  Doc,  now  a  champion,  and  Mike  S, 
small  and  light  boned,  were  the  only  two  dogs 
shown.  In  bitches,  Pit,  a  rather  light  one,  but 
evenly  balanced  .and  with  good  color  markings, 
should  have  gone  over  Nellie  C.  if  for  nothing  else 
than  that  the  latter  was  much  undershot  and  had 
lower  teeth  like  a  bulldog.  The  balance  of  the  bitch 
classes  were   marked   absent. 

Halvern  Jerry,  in  for  exhibition  only,  was  the  best 
Irish  setter  benched.  Spudds,  winners  dogs,  is  the 
right  type  and  was  in  splendid  feather,  but  is  a  dog 
at  least  ten  pounds  too  light.  Phil  Law,  reserve 
winners,  a  strong-boned,  well-developed  puppy,  has 
excellent  coat  and  color,  but  gave  way  to  the  matured 
dog.  Red  and  Sport  are  both  too  light  boned.  St. 
Lambert  Phyllis,  alone  in  her  classes,  a  litter  sister  of 
Phil  Law,  is  a  very  pleasing  young  bitch. 


394 


WESTERN  FI1  i  D 


Queenie 


Champion  Ned — Judge  Carroll  Cook 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


395 


ches,    first    winners 
d   muzzle,   is  badly 


Irish  water  spaniels  were  a  good  lot  and  a  pleas- 
ing indication  of  the  growing  interest  in  this  most 
useful  breed.  In  the  absence  of  Ch.  The  Gossoon, 
Pat  won  first  winners  without  a  struggle.  Ch.  Rowdy 
Girl  and  her  daughter,  Frisco  Babe,  were  one,  two 
in  winners.  Girl  is  a  familiar  bench  and  a  grand 
producing  matron.  Babe  reflects  her  good  qualities. 
Irish  Lassie,  second  novice,  and  Elsie  L.,  second 
open,  are  also  the  right  sort.  There  was  a  general 
lack  of  coat  that  is  to  be  expected  in  this  breed  at 
this    season. 

Field  spaniels  turned  out  two  of  the  best  benched 
at  Coast  shows  in  years,  Inchkieth  Billie  and  Ches- 
terton Bess;  they  can  be  accepted  as  the  right  ma- 
terial in  working  spaniels.  The  balance  of  the  class 
were   fairly   good. 

Cocker  spaniels,  with  thirty-five  benched,  were  the 
largest  breed  represented.  In  these  classes  the 
judge  seemed  to  lose  his  grasp  on  the  standard  and 
type  requirements.  Leather  Br> 
and  puppies,  has  a  setter  head  ; 
off  in  hindquarters,  and  was  sadly  lacking  in  coat. 
Lagunitas  Judge,  with  a  better  cocker  head,  a  better 
body    and    legs,    should    have   gone   first    puppies    and 

notwithstanding  his  rather  long  body,  was  easily 
first  for  winners.  Searchlight  in  "for  specials," 
rightly  won  for  best  black.  Mepals  Saxon,  also  in 
"for  specials,"  was  absent.  In  black  bitches,  there 
was  another  mixup.  First  puppies  went  to  Lassie 
Kathleen,  a  very  light-boned  one  with  a  small  head, 
too  much  chiselled  out  under  the  eyes  and  narrow 
in  muzzle.  Cressella  Nell  has  the  better  head 
all  round,  with  a  well  set  up  body,  good  bone, 
proper  legs  and  feet.  The  rest  of  the  class 
fell  in  right.  In  novice  bitches  Cressella  Nan,  first, 
went  over  Juanita  III,  a  much  better  one  in  head, 
substance  and  finish  than  either  Nan  or  Lassie.  Cres- 
sella Nancy  and  Cricket  came  together  for  the  fourth 
time,  Nancy  winning  out;  this  makes  two  wins  for 
each  of  them.  This  pair,  both  good  ones,  are  in 
for  a  class  race  every  time  they  meet.  This  win 
gave    Nancy    her    championship.      Little    John    had    a 


for   first 
Ch.    Redlight,   a  red, 
made    good    for    best    show 
particolor,   might   not   have 
black,    had    the    judge    exa; 
land     Babbi. 
finish  and  substan 
Dachshunds  wer 


nners   in   other   than    black. 

for    "specials   only,"   handily 

>wn.      Delverton    Dolores,    a 

dinners,    other   than 


ined    her    . 

iers,     lacks 
of  either  Patience  or   Fant 
>nly  fair,  Nordica,  absent, 


general 


uld 


have  annexed  the  tri-color. 

Collies  turned  out  some  very  good  homebred 
youngsters.  Valverde  Veto  could  not  be  stopped 
for  first  winners.  He  is  a  young  sable  with  a  clean- 
cut,  symmetrical  head,  ears  properly  carried,  a  fine 
body  with  legs  and  feet  to  match.  Farallone  Rod- 
erick, reserve  winners,  was  in  better  coat  than 
valverde  Watch,  first  puppies  and  California-bred. 
Watch  is  a  coming  puppy,  good  now  and  will  im- 
prove. In  limit  Southport  Stephen,  second,  a  better 
dog  than  Farallone  Roderick,  w 
being    slightly    undershot. 

The    rest    of   the   dog   classes 
place.      Xantippe  of  Moreton  dist 
by  a  wide  margin.     Lodi  Bell  was  lucky.     She  is  only 
a  fairish  sort  with  faulty  ear  carriage. 

One  curly  poodle  shown,  Black,  is  a  very  good 
specimen.  Toodles,  a  toy  poodle,  Tutsiliffe,  a  toy 
terrier    (winner   of   special    for   smallest    in    the   show), 


it   do 


peg   for 


not    difficult    to 
d  her  competitor 


K    Langridge, 
int   Gun    Club,    and 
Leading    Fanciers 


Louie 


Ch. 


Snowball  and  Muff,  Pomerani; 
eral  De  La  Mare,  Ch.  Margot  De  Pantin,  three  very 
fine  French  bulldogs  were  the  talent  of  the  small 
breeds  and  easily  placed.  Other  small  breed  entries 
were  absent. 

Two  Airedales  were  both  on  the  lines  required. 
Moter  Dace  is  a  large,  up  standing  well  furnished 
dog  with  a  characteristic  terrier  head,  a  proper 
jacket  and  pleasing  color.  Pepper,  a  larger  dog  and 
a  good  one,  too,  gave  way  in  general   finish. 

Toreador  Venus  has  improved  materially  since  she 
made  her  debut  at  Los  Angeles,  April,  1906.  She 
is  teeming  with  bulldog  character  and  is  an  all- 
round  good  one.  Two  dogs,  Leeds  Caesar  and 
Margo's  Mowgli,  are  both  good  ones.  MowgH 
(Moston  Monarch — Naelcam  Bessie)  is  California- 
bred. 

In  bull  terriers  the  general  consensus  of  opinion 
seemed  to  be  that  Silkwood  Ben  AH  should  have 
won  over  Brooklyn  Patsey.  Ben  AH  has  the  head, 
eyes  and  jaws  that  are  built  for  work,  and  which 
modern  breeders  have  been  trying  to  develop.  In 
these  qualities  he  leads  Patsey  by  a  well  defined  mar- 
gin. In  body,  bone,  legs  and  feet,  tail  carriage 
Ben  has  a  shade  the  best.  Stiletto  Cold  Steel  and 
Stiletto     Tarquin    are    two     very    promising     puppies. 


WESTERN  FIELD 


-V.   A.   Kuehn,  (J 


Lady  Hazel— Mrs.   Geo.   Flexner,   Ov 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZIXE 


In  bitches  Lady  Hazel  first  open  over  Ch.  Edgewood 
Jean  II,  was  placed  first  winners.  Reserve  winners 
was  given  to  Hartford  Ted,  first  puppies  and  novice. 
Hartford  Ted  has  a  long  way  to  go  to  win  out 
over  Jean,  a  bitch  with  typical  head  and  eyes  and 
of  excellent  substance.  Brooklyn  Patsey  seemed  to 
be  in  rare  luck,  for  when  the  specials  for  best  terrier 
in  the  show  and  for  best  handled  and  exhibited  by 
a  lady,  were  awarded,  the  judge,  with  Solomon-like 
resourcefulness  awarded  Patsey  and  Ch.  Endcliffe 
Tortora — equal  firsts,  an  innovation  in  judging  that 
will  be  a  bad  precedent  to  follow.  Ch.  Dick 
Dazzler  was  also  snowed  under  in  this  class  by 
the  judge.  At  the  last  San  Francisco  show,  Ch. 
tndcliffe  Tortora  was  awarded  the  California  Jockey- 
Club  plate  special  over  Patsey,  by  Geo.  Raper,  an 
authority  on  terriers  and  a  judge  of  international 
acknowledged  abilities. 

In  Bostons  there  was  another  slight  jar  when 
Rainier  Dick,  with  wrinkled  muzzle,  out  at  shoulders 
and  light  in  ribs  and  loin,  was  placed  over  Frisco 
Cinders  (who  had  previously  beaten  Dick  at  San 
Mateo)  in  limit.  Cinders  was  in  far  better  condi- 
tion than  Dick  and  is  over  him  in  head,  body,  legs, 
feet  and  general  symmetry.  Ascot  Roseben,  first 
puppies,  limit  and  reserve  winners,  is  a  clean  cut 
dark  brindle  Boston  from  the  ground  up.  Ch.  Dick 
Dazzler,  put  down  in  grand  condition,  a  fine  ring 
shower  also,  won  out  in  open  and  winners.  Ch. 
Endcliffe  Tortora  and  Clancy  III,  first  and  reserve 
winners,  both  in  winning  condition,  were  properly- 
placed.  Baby  Rose,  a  light  brindle,  is  too  light  in 
muzzle  and  low  in  shoulders  and  could  have  given 
way  to  Wonderland  Venus  without  jarring  the  views 
of  observing  fanciers. 

Fox  terriers,  smooths  and  wires,  were  few  in  num- 
ber but  with  plenty  of  class  to  make  up.  In  novice, 
Tallac  Tallyho  was  first  over  Tallac  Smasher. 
Smasher  should  have  had  the  blue,  as  he  beats 
Tallyho  both  in  head  and  body.  Both  limit  dogs 
withheld,  if  the  purpose  of  dog 
and  improving  breeds  is  to  be 
inners  and  first  open  was  awarded 
!  Boy  over  Wandee  Resist.  Blue 
however  rejected  by  the  bench 
the  entry  was  sent  in,  it  was 
le  entries  had  closed.  Even  at  that 
better  fox  terrier  head,  and  should 
t    the    blue,    both    dogs    however    are 


should  have  beer 
shows  in  fosterin 
observed.  "First 
to  .Multnomah  Bl 
Boy's  entry  was 
show  committee; 
claimed,  after  the 
Resist  has  th 
have    been    gii 


the  kii 


like 


In  bitches,  that 
practically    alone. 


fettle. 


to  see  in  th 
good    one,    Tallac    Seabreeze 
Second   and   reserve   winners    should   have   been 
held. 

In  wires,  Humberstone  Record 
showed  up  to  his  past  show  career.  Reserve  winners 
went  to  Jack,  a  stylish  shower,  but  too  much  on  the 
lightweight  order.  Humberstone  came  in  properly 
for  a  second  in  open.  Humberstone  Hope,  first 
winners,  is  a  corking  good  wire.  Ch.  Maggie  the 
-Maid,  for  her  age  shows  the  style  and  quality  that 
her  breeding  is  expected  to  give,  but  she  should  be 
retired. 


DOG  poisoning  has  become  so  common  in   Salina 
that   the   fanciers   of   that    city   have   banded   tc 
gether,   put  up  the  money,   and  now  offer  a  re 
ward    of   $250    for    the    arrest    and    conviction    of   th 
fiendish   poisoner.      It    is   to   be   hoped   that   they   wil 
succeed  in  catching  him  and  giving  him  his  deserts. 


a 

a 


THE  CALIFORNIA  GAME  AND  FISH  PROTECTIVE 
ASSOCIATION  CONVENTION 


D 
D 


IE  eighth  annual  meeting  of  the 
California  Game  and  Fish  Protective 
ion,  held  at  Los  Angeles. 
November  8th  to  10th,  was  the 
largest  in  attendance  of  any  meeting 
yet  held  by  the  association,  there 
being  nearly  forty  local  clubs  rep- 
resented, as  well  as  a  large  number 
of  individual  members.  The  Los 
Angeles  association  had  arranged  so 
elaborate  a  program  of  entertain- 
ment, that  it  was  found  necessary  to 
change  the  regular  routine  of  business  in  order  that 
this  program  might  be  carried  out  and  the  visiting 
delegates  given  an  opportunity  to  enjoy  the  marked 
hospitality  of  the  southern  city.  The  first  business 
meeting  was  held,  therefore,  on  Friday  afternoon  at 
2  p.  m..  and  continued  again  on  Friday  night,  clos- 
ing after  the  banquet  at  Alpine  Tavern  on  Mount 
Lowe,   5000   feet    above  the   sea. 

Many  changes  in  the  laws  were  discussed  and 
many  admirable  suggestions  offered,  but  the  only 
action  taken  was  the  appointment  of  a  committee  of 
five  to  consider  these  and  other  changes  which  may- 
be suggested,  or  be  found  to  be  necessary,  and 
submit  them  in  legislative  form  to  the  association  at 
its  next  annual  meeting,  there  to  be  acted  upon. 

Resolutions  were  passed  asking  that  better  pro- 
tection be  given  to  the  game  thronugh  the  employ- 
ment of  at  least  one  active  deputy  in  each  game 
county  of  the  State,  and  a  committee  was  appointed 
consisting  of  M.  J.  Connell,  II.  W.  Keller,  C.  \V. 
Hibbard,  A.  R.  Orr  and  W.  Scott  Way,  to  present 
the  resolution  to  the  Board  of  Fish  Commissioners 
and  urge  its  prompt  action  in  the  matter.  Another 
resolution  was  also  adopted  requesting  the  Fish 
Commission  to  devote  the  money  at  present  avail- 
able through  the  splendid  results  of  the  hunting 
license  law,  to  the  redistribution  and  protection  of 
our  native  birds,  rather  than  to  experiments  with 
foreign  varieties,  until  after  such  time  as  the  merits 
of  foreign  varieties  can  be  carefully  and  properly 
considered. 


r  completing  the  usual  routine  business  the 
of  several  places  were  suggested  for  the  next 
annual  meeting,  but  so  strong  was  the  plea  of  Mr. 
Keating  for  the  seaside  city  of  Santa  Cruz,  that  the 
names  of  all  other  places  were  withdrawn  and  Santa 
Cruz  became  the  unanimous  selection. 

The  following  officers   were  elected: 

II.   T.    Payne,  president   (re-elected). 

F.dwin    A.    Mocker,    secretary-treasurer    (re-elected). 

Charles  L.  Powell  of  Pleasanton,  W.  A.  Correll  of 
Riverside.  \V.  I.  Keating  of  Santa  Cruz,  M.  J. 
Connell  of  Los  Angeles,  H.  A.  Green  of  Monterey, 
vice-presidents. 

Mr.  Payne,  in  returning  thanks  for  the  continued 
expression  of  confidence  in  his  administration, 
which  had  been  uninterrupted  from  the  organization 
of  the  association  to  the  present,  stated  that  he  had 
come  to  Los  Angeles  with  the  firm  intention  to 
refuse  another  term  of  the  presidency,  and  had  so 
advised  many  of  the  delegates  and  requested  them 
to  decide  upon  another  candidate,  but  that  in  every 
case  they  had  been  so  persistent  in  their  entreaties 
to  have  him  continue  that  he  had  been  compelled  to 
subordinate  his  own  wishes  to  theirs. 

On  Saturday  morning  sixty-five  delegates  went  to 
Mount  Lowe  over  one  of  the  most  remarkable  and 
most  picturesque  trolley  rides  in  the  world.  This 
road  climbs  nearly  five  thousand  feet  in  less  than 
six  miles,  and  overlooks  the  whole  of  the  valley 
lying  between  the  mountains  and  the  sea.  The 
party  was  treated  to  a  genuine  mountain  hailstorm 
on  the  trip  up,  which  added  much  to  the  varied 
scenes  and  experiences  of  the  trip.  At  the  Alpine 
Tavern  on  Mount  Lowe  a  banquet  was  served  and 
the  ride  up  through  the  invigorating  mountain  air 
furnished  the  whole  party  with  appetites  that  did 
more  than  ample  justice  to  the  spread.  Sunday 
many  of  the  delegates  visited  the  duck  preserve  of 
the  Los  Angeles  clubs  and  spent  the  day  shooting. 

The  old  delegates  who  have  never  missed  an  an- 
nual meeting,  are  of  one  mind  in  stating  that  the 
Los  Angeles  meeting  was  the  largest  and  most  en- 
joyable in   the  history   of  the  association. 


GRADE  B.S 


DAVIS 

QUINS. 


ASK 
YOUR  DEALER. 

Pacific  Coast  Agents 

THE  RALPH  BROWN  CO.,  si.  Fr.ncisco 


Write  lor  Catalog 


ADVERTISEMENTS 


AN   ART    GEM 

ONE  of  the  most  beautiful  souvenirs  of  the  season, 
and  a  gift  particularly  suitable  for  holiday 
presentation,  is  the  exquisite  portfolio  of 
rainbow  trout  pictures,  painted  by  California's  best 
painter  of  fish,   Mrs.  Nellie  Burrell  Scott. 

There  are  four  pictures,  nice-sized  reproductions 
of  her  famous  paintings,  "The  Rise,"  "The  Strike," 
"The  Finish"  and  "Landed."  They  are  absolutely 
exact  copies  of  the  originals,  but  are  done  in  water 
colors  instead  of  oils;  they  are  contained  in  very 
artistic  portfolios  of  the  new  "Alligator"  and  "Spider 
Web"  art  papers,  and  may  be  had  at  any  art  dealer's, 
or  direct  from  the  studio,  740  Shrader  street,  San 
Francisco,  at  the  modest  price  of  $10.00  per  port- 
folio. No  more  beautiful  gift  could  be  made  to  a 
sportsman  friend  and  we  earnestly  recommend  an 
early   examination  of  these   artistic  gems. 

DOES  NOT  AFFECT  SPORTSMEN 

THE  disastrous  explosion  of  the  Dupont  powder 
mills  at  Fontanet,  Ind.,  in  nowise  affects  the 
manufacture  of  their  sporting  powders,  either 
black  or  smokeless,  as  only  blasting  or  mining 
powder  was  made  at  Fontanet,  the  sporting  powders 
being  produced  at  Carney's  Point,  Haskell,  Oakland, 
N.  J.,  and  elsewhere. 

Therefore,  the  enthusiastic  users  of  "Dupont"  need 
not  have  any  fear  of  a  shortage  of  this  favorite 
brand.  We  congratulate  them  thereon,  for  if  there 
were  to  be  a  "Dupont"  famine  the  game  would  in- 
crease so  fast  as  to  actually  crowd  shooters  off  the 
earth.  *  *         * 

GOOD  GUNS  AT  LOW   PRICES 

THE  line  of  guns  manufactured  by  the  well-known 
N.  R.  Davis  &  Sons,  Assonet,  Mass.,  will  ap- 
peal very  strongly  to  that  great  class  of  sports- 
men who  care  very  little  for  gingerbread  and  fancy 
furnishings  so  long  as  their  guns  handle  well,  shoot 
satisfactory  and  are  durable  and  dependable  for  actual 
field  work. 

It  must  not  be  inferred  from  this  that  Davis  guns 
are  either  cheap  in  appointments  or  cheap  in  looks ; 
on  the  contrary,  they  embody  all  the  good  qualities 
found  in  high-priced  guns,  being  marvels  of  good 
workmanship,  excellent  material,  and  very  tasty 
lines.  They  simply  lack  the  useless  profusion  of 
ornamentation  that  costs  lots  of  money  and  don't 
increase  the  gun's  service,  utility  or  durability  in 
the  least.  They  are  made  to  sh'oot  well  and  to  wear 
well,  and  in  point  of  looks  they  compare  favorably 
to  guns  costing  twice  as  much.  Anyone  wanting  a 
gun  to  shoot  and  kill  things  with,  instead   of  merely 


keeping  it  to  1 
Davis. 

Call  on  the  Ralph  ] 
San  Francisco  agent 
them   to 


i  t  go 


rig  if  they  buy  a 


quality  will  surprise  you  at  th 


own  Co.,  224  Fifth  street  (the 
for  the  Davis  Co.),  and  ask 
tock   of   Davis   gjuns.      The 


inal  prices  asked. 


THE  IDEAL  CHRISTMAS  GIFT  FOR  MAN  OR 
BOY 

THERE  is  no  more  suitable  or  appropriate  present 
than   a   famous   Stevens  rifle,   shotgun   or  pistol. 
These  well-known  arms  have  been  on  the  market 
are  guaranteed  in  every  way  and  univer- 
ded   to   be   absolutely   the   best   at   popular 


since  186 
sally  con 
prices. 


W.&J.SLOANE&CO. 


Complete  stock 

CARPETS 
ORIENTAL  RUGS 
FURNITURE 
DRAPERIES,  Etc. 


Sutter    and    Van   Ness 


The  Best 

Champagne 

is  Veuve 
Clicquot 

Sec  and  Brut 


Cruse  and  Fils  Freres 

Red  and  White 

Wines 


Ami  Vignier 

Pacific  Coast  Acency 

Southeast  corner 
Battery  and  Broadway  Sts. 

San  Francisco,  Cal. 


When  Writing  Advertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD.' 


WESTERh   FIELD 


f \ 

The  A.  H.  Fox  Elector  Gun 

Actual  proof  in  the  gunner's  own  hands  is  the  final  test  of  gun  excellence. 
Here  is  where  the  Ansley  H.  Fox  double,  hammerless,  ejector  gun  "wins  out" 
over  all  competitors. 

Simpler  in  construction  and  with  fewer  parts  than  other  guns ;  stronger 
because  of  this  very  simplicity,  the  FOX  Citlll  actually  realizes  the  sportsman's 
ideal  of  perfect  balance  and  easy,  certain  operation. 

The  A.  H.  FOX  GLJISf  CO., 

4652  North  Eighteenth  Street,   Philadelphia,  F>a. 


a  Stevens  is  the  finest  de- 
aoy.  Learning  to  shoot  well 
of  self-control,  decision  and 
iriable     results     of     a     Stevens 


goods 


"Out-of-doors"  witl 
vclnper  for  a  growing 
and  acquiring  qualiti* 
manliness  are  the  ir 
Firearm  education. 

Progressive  hardws..  _ 
chants  carry  Stevens  arms  in  stock  and  can  supply 
individuals  at  attractive  prices.  Insist  on  Stevens 
when  purchasing — there  are  no  substitutes.  These 
meritorious  weapons  are  manufactured  in  all  sizes, 
gauges,  calibers,  weights,  lengths,  etc. 

Mention  Western  Field  and  send  five  cents  in 
stamps  to  the  J.  Stevens  Arms  and  Tool  Co.,  Chicopee 
Falls,  Mass.,  "for  160  page  illustrated  catalog.  Em- 
bodies detailed  descriptions  and  furnishes  the  most 
complete  number  of  Xmas  suggestions  in  the  fire- 
Remember — when  securing  your  gifts  for  the  merry 
Yule-tide  season — a  Stevens  rifle  or  shotgun  makes 
a  man  of  your  boy  and  no  mollycoddle! 

MARBLE'S  SIMPLEX  REAR  SIGHT 

For  .22  caliber  rifles  only. 
Not  ready   until  August,   1907. 

THE  sight  is  held  quite  firmly 
in  the  proper  position  for 
shooting  by  an  inside 
spring,  but  can  be  easily  folded 
down. 

A  large  and  small  aperture 
disc  is  furnished  with  each 
sight. 

The     stem     can     be    set     very 
quickly   in   any  position   by  rais- 
ing   the    lock    to     a    horizontal 
position    and    moving    the    stem 
up   or  down   with  the  fingers. 

The  lock  holds  stem  rigid  at  any  elevation.  (Stem 
cannot  drop  out  even  when  lock  is  open,  but  it  can 
be  removed  when  desired.) 

(The  lug  on  base  of  upright  prevents  sight  from 
being  folded  back  far  enough  to  interfere  with  ham- 
mer on  rifle.) 


Whe 


Writing  Adverti 


HE  IS  WITH  US  AGAIN 

MR.  A.  MULLER,  representing  the  great  Win- 
chester Repeating  Arms  Co.,  of  New  Haven, 
Conn.,  advises  us  that  he  has  removed  to  714 
Market  street,  San  Francisco,  where  he  will  be  glad 
to  see  his  old  friends  and  patrons.  The  trade  will  be 
glad  to  again  get  in  close  touch  with  Mr.  Muller,  who 
represents  not  only  the  highest  type  of  American 
sportsman  but  who  also  admirably  typifies  all  that 
is  admirable  in  the  guild  of  American  gentlemen— 
especially  of  that  particular  branch  who  are  making 
the  industries  of  America  and  their  conduction  the 
envy    of    the    world. 

DONE   WITH   DUPONT 

AT  Haynesburg,  O.,  on  September  19th  First 
Average  was  won  by  Mr.  J.  R.  Taylor,  who 
broke  the  entire  program  straight,  a  total 
of    ISO   targets,   using    Dupont   smokeless. 

Second  Average  was  won  by  Mr.  L.  J.  Squier, 
who  broke    173   out   of    180,   using   Dupont   smokeless. 

At  Rising  Sun,  Md.  on  October  1st,  Mr.  W.  M. 
Ford  of  Wilmington^  Del.,  won  First  Amateur  Aver- 
age  with   372   out   of  400,  using   Dupont   smokeless. 

At  Columbus,  O.,  on  October  2d  and  3d,  Mr. 
R.  O.  Heikes  and  Mr.  J.  R.  Taylor  won  First 
and  Second  General  Averages  with  387  and  383 
respectively  out  of  400,  using  Dupont  smokeless. 

Lon  Fisher  and  W.  A.  Fishinger  tied  for  First 
Amateur  Average  with  368  out  of  400.  F.  E. 
Foltz  tied  for  Second  Amateur  Average  with  366 
out  of  400.  Mr.  L.  M.  Bottenfield  won  Third  Ama- 
teur Average  with   364  out  of  400, 

All  of  the  above  gentlemen  used  Dupont  smoke- 
less. 

At  Dover,  Del.,  on  October  3d,  Mr.  L.  S.  Ger- 
man and  J.  M.  Hawkins  won  First  and  Second 
General  Averages  with  163  and  167  respect;  ely  out 
of  180.  Mr.  A.  B.  Richardson  won  First  Amateur 
Average  with  186.  Mr.  W.  M.  Foord  Seer  '  Ama- 
teur Average  with  174  and  Mr.  J.  A.  ?  elvey, 
Third    Amateur    Average    with    165. 

!  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD." 


li>  CENTS  JANUARY,     1908  $1.50  THE  YEAR 


Greater  San  Francisco 


Western  Agencies  &  Manufacturing  Co. 


A.  J.  BURTON,  MGR. 1 

Manufacturers  of 

LEATHER     AND     CANVAS     SPORTING     GOODS, 

LEGGINS, 

BELTS.    TRAVELERS'    SAMPLE 

ROLLS. 

CASES,    AUTOMOBILE    TIRE 

COVERS,    ETC. 

Sole    Agents  for 

"FABRIKOID'     The  best  artificial 

leather  made. 

Successor  to  PEGAMOID. 

Phone  Market  2427 

Office  and  Factory 

1785  15th  Street  near  Guerrero 

SAN  FRANCISCO,  CALIFORNIA. 

HOTEL    DEL    CORONADO 

MORGAN    ROSS,    IVlarlaeer 

American  Plan  First  Class  in  Every  Respect 


$4.00  Per  Day 
and  Upwards 


Special    Weekly 
Rates 

Most   Equable 

Climate  in  the 

World 


ON    ROOMS 


WRITE    OR    TELEGRAPH    (AT    OUR    EXPENSE)    FOR 

CORONADO     BEACH,     CALIFORNIA 


WESTERN  FIELD 

PUBLISHED  AT  GREATER  SAN  FRANCISCO.  CALIFORNIA 

Vol. 

11 

JANUARY,    1908 

No.   6 

CONTENTS  OF  THIS    NUMBER 

Frontispiece— A  New  White  Bear  (Ursus  kermodei) . 

Our  On.-  Sole  Meril  (Verse)  Clarence  H.  I'rncr 

Fresh  Pastures— Part  I "Montezuma' 

Voir.-  of  the  Desert  Silence  (Verse) Alice  Sptcer, 

Poems Maurice  Smiley 

Three  Davs  on  the  American  (Photos  by  Graham.  Los  Angeles) Will  B.  Wing 

The  Temple  (Verse) Sam  Extern.  Foulds 

Two  Hours  with  an  Albacore Harry  H.  Dunn 

The  Red  Bird's  Mission   I  ,,,  „„,  )       Marian  Phelps 

0(  Fish  We  Caught  f  ' N  erse' I  Marion  H.  Baker 

My  First  Tiger  Hunt Will  Frakes 

English  Sport— Part  VI.— Rabhits  and  the  Rook  Rifle P.  Clapham 

One  Wet  Jan  uary  Day Edward  C.  Crossman 

South  Coast  Shooting— Part  XII.— More  about  the  Shore  Birds " '  Stillhunter" 

Sport  With  the  Small  Rifle '. "Smallarms" 

Sonnets Clarence  Utner 

Rifle  Smoke "Smallarms" 

Rifle  Practice  in  the  Nayy Special  Correspondent 

The  Oldest  Field  Trials  Club  in  America H.  T.  Payne 

1 7— DEPARTMENTS—  1 7 


LOOK!     LOOK!    LOOK! 


...WON  ... 

First 

Second 

Third 

Fifth 

Sixth 

Seventh 

at  the  first  tournament  of  the 

Pacific  Coast  Trap  Shooters'   League 

Held  at  Ingleside,  San  Francisco 

February  22,  23,  24,  1906 

with 

Selby  Shells 

Manufactured  by  the  Selby  Smelting  and  Lead  Co. 


When  Writing  Advertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD.' 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Goldberg,  Bowen  &  Co. 


G 


rocers 


FOUNDED 
. .  .1850.  .  . 


FI FTY-  SEV  EN  YEARS  of  conscientious  attention 
to  the  demands  of  those  who  appreciate  good  goods  at  reasonable 
prices,  coupled  Taith  excellent  service,  three  daily  deliveries  and  the 
acme  of  perfect  store  attention  are  the  reasons  why  we  to-day  enjoy 
and  asfy    the    continued   patronage    of    the    San    Francisco    public 


PERMANENT  LOCATIONS 

1244  Van  S^ess,   near  Sutter 

2829  California,   near    *Deuisadero 

1401  Haight,  comer  JKCasonic 

13th  and  Clay.    Oakland 


When  Writing  Adyertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD.' 


1 


Vol.   11 


& 


r 


m  I    WESTERN    FIELD      « 


PUBLISHED    AT    GREATER    SAN    FRANCISCO 


JANUARY,     1908 


No.  6 


OUR  ONE  SOLE  MERIT 

THE  world,  from  fields  near  by  to  hills,  extreme, 
Appareled   in    its   garniture   of   snow,   forsakes 

Its  recent  look  of  sheer  distress,   and  takes 
The    distant    whiteness    of    a    Heavenly    gleam: 
Still    as    a    spectre    passing    through    a    dream 

Or    Time    soft    stealing   onward,    fall    the    flakes, 

While  in  the  soul  becalmed  a  thought  awakes 
Of  viewless  seraphs  round  the  Throne  Supreme. 
But    not    of   earth    the   beauty    of   the    snow 

Whose    ermine    ever    mocks    our    purest    thought 
With    speech    for    mortal    gasp    too    faint    and    low : 

Our    one    sole    merit    is,    that    Hope    hath    wrought 
The   trust   that   God's   good   future   may   bestow 

Robes  white  as  angel  plumes,  unearned,  unbought. 
— Clarence  H.  Urner. 


FRESH  PASTURES 


] 


By  "Montezuma" 
PART  I. 


ETTEN  is  entitled  to  ;ill  the 
credit.  For  six  months  previous 
to  our  hegira  he  used  to  come 
frequently  into  my  office  with  a 
cock-and-bull  story  about  a  mys- 
terious country,  somewhere  up 
in  the  unknown  North,  which 
was  just  swarming  with  all 
kinds  of  red.  white  and  blue 
bears,  all  new  to  science.  With 
a  dreamy,  far-away  look  in  his  liquid,  fawn- 
like eyes,  he  would  expatiate  by  the  hour  upon 
the  glories  of  the  aurora  borealis,  the  tinkling 
of  glacial  waterfalls,  the  soft  music  of  the 
incognite  -spheres  which  awaited  the  explorer 
who  would  accept  his  tip  and  his  companion- 
ship and  hike  to  the  high  places  where  exalta- 
tion— and  bears — awaited. 

Now,  bears  are  my  chief  failing,  but  one 
wouldn't  have  thought  Betten  was  fully  aware 
of  that  fact,  seeing  how  cleverly  and  diplo- 
matically he  only  referred  to  them  casually  and 
incidentally  throughout  his  entire  onslaught  on 
my  peace  of  mind.  Wise  man !  He  knew-  that 
a  burned  cat  shuns  the  fire,  and  that  honey 
offered  in  great  gobs  is  apt  to  cloy  and  satiate 
before  it  is  tasted.  So  he  dwelt  far  more  upon 
the  scenery  and  fishing,  the  elk,  deer,  sheep. 
goats  and  caribou  that  peopled  his  dreamland, 
and  only  lugged  bear  in  by  the  ears  semi-oc- 
casionally. 

For  a  while  his  most  insidious  efforts  only- 
provoked  a  grin  of  amusement,  but  when,  one 
day,  he  brought  in  a  pamphlet  issued  by  the 
authorities  of  British  Columbia,  in  which  was 
catalogued  a  new  white  bear  said  to  inhabit  a 
certain  Gribble  Island.  I  began  to  set  up  and 
take  notice.  Then  atop  of  that  came  a  letter, 
with  photographs,  from  one  of  our  most  trust- 
worthy northern  correspondents.  Mr.  F.  M. 
Kelly,  describing  this  very  brute :  "white,  even 
to  his  toenails" — and  I  fell  to  the  seduction  as 


precipitately  as  the  'coon  came  down  to  Davy 
Crockett. 
"Let's  start  next  week,"  said  Betten. 
"We'll  go  day  after  tomorrow,"  said  I,  and 
the  die  was  cast. 

An  old-timer's  preparations  are  soon  made — 
and  Betten  and  I  are  no  tenderfeet.  A  few- 
little  nick-nacks  to  fill  up  gaps  in  the  battered 
old  camp  outfit  were  purchased;  an  extra  hun- 
dred cartridges  for  my  rifles,  a  folding  pocket 
lantern,  waterproof  match  box,  etc.,  and  in 
the  evening  of  September  third  I  was  on  my 
way  to  Seattle,  where  I  was  to  meet  Betten, 
who  had  gone  on  ahead  with  his  family,  their 
intention  being  to  visit  relatives  on  Whidby 
Island  until  our  return. 

At  Seattle  we  encountered  a  bit  of  bad  luck 
which  cost  us  a  week's  delay.  Our  boat  had  not 
arrived  from  „the  East,  although  ordered  in 
ample  time  ahead,  and  to  alleviate  the  tedium 
of  waiting  for  it  we  went  over  to  Whidby 
Island,  where  we  passed  four  very  pleasant 
days,  and,  what  was  infinitely  better,  managed 
to  hornswoggle  Ned  McCrohan  into  going 
along  with  us  on  our  exploring  trip. 

Be  it  known  that  Ned  has  been  a  licensed 
mate  in  good  standing  for  more  years  than  a 
badger  has  ticks ;  that  he  is  the  Prince  of  Sour- 
doughs, being  an  old  Alaskan  musher,  and 
knows  beans — and  the  best  ways  of  cooking 
them.  A  splendid  oarsman,  good  shot,  genial 
companion  and  all  around  good  fellow — 
although  he  can't  play  cribbage,  old  sledge.  <>r 
"Black  jack"  worth  talking  about — Ned  was 
the  most  valued  acquisition  to  our  outfit,  and 
in  the  making  of  his  acquaintance  I  was  more 
than  repaid  for  the  time  and  expense  of  the 
whole  trip. 

On  our  return  to  Seattle  the  boat  was  still 
nou  est,  so  with  a  cordial  anathema  on  its 
derelict  builder  we  railroaded  it  into  Van- 
couver, where  fickle  Fortune  made  up  for  her 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


405 


previous  cussedness  by  giving  us  the  oppor- 
tunity of  meeting  one  of  British  Columbia's 
typical  sportsmen,  Mr.  John  Hardy  Wrigley, 
the  assistant  managing  director  of  the  Union 
Steamship  Company,  whose  kindness  put  us 
under  more  obligations  to  him  than  we  can 
ever  repay.  An  enthusiastic  sportsman  him- 
self— as  indeed  are  most  of  our  English 
cousins — Mr.  Wrigley  left  no  stone  unturned, 
no  little  courteous  service  unrendered,  that 
would  contribute  to  our  pleasure  and  success. 
He  went  out  of  his  way  to  be  good  to  us, 
and  to  his  generosity  and  forethought  much 
of  our  enjoyment  of  the  trip  is  due.  Any 
American  sportsman  of  the  right  sort  is  always 
assured  of  Mr.  YVrigley's  interest,  and  will 
meet  with  a  cordial  reception  at  his  hands. 
And  it  is  only  fair  to  say  en  passant  that  all 
the  officials  and  employees  of  the  company 
whose  interests  he  so  ably  represents,  from 
Mr.  Wrigley  down  to  the  stevedores  of  his 
respective  crafts,  are  courteous,  obliging  men, 
the  officers  of  the  "Camosun."  on  which  boat 
our  trip  from  Vancouver  northward  was  made, 
being  particularly  affable  gentlemen. 

At  Vancouver  we  purchased  such  supplies 
as  were  needed — thereby  making  the  one  great 
mistake  of  the  trip.  For  we  found,  even  at 
the  muchly  vaunted  stores  of  the  notorious 
(  I  use  the  word  advisedly)  Hudson  Bay  Com- 
pany, the  worst  job  lot  of  ill-assorted  and  poor 
qualitied  junk  that  was  ever  foisted  off  on  a 
helpless  purchaser.  This  company  has  evi- 
dently been  doing  business  so  long  with  In- 
dians and  half-breeds  that  it  has  forgotten — or 
else  never  did  learn — how  to  decently  treat  a 
white  man.  The  so-called  "waterproof" (  !) 
coats  we  bought  at  extravagant  prices  were 
so  porous  and  honeycombed  with  uselessness 
that  they  leaked  at  every  pore  in  the  most 
trivial  mists,  to  say  nothing  of  rain  storms, 
and  we  actually  had  to  paraffine  them  to  keep 
dry.  The  groceries  which  we  ordered  packed 
in  air-tight  tin  cases,  we  paying  an  extra 
charge  for  such  packing  and  cases,  were  de- 
livered to  us  at  the  last  possible  moment  before 
sailing  (an  old  trick  of  theirs,  I  have  learned 
since)  in  the  flimsiest  of  flimsy  paper  wrap- 
pings, with  results  imaginable.  Added  to  this, 
we  found  prices  from  twenty  to  thirty  per  cent 
uniformly  higher  than  for  much  better  articles 
here  in  the  States.  My  earnest  advice,  there- 
fore, is  to  outfit  completely  in  the  United 
States,  shipping  directly  to  your  point  of  final 
disembarkment,    the    excellence    and    assured 


H.  L.  Betten— who  gets  the  credit  and  who  got  a  bear 

good  condition  of  your  supplies  being  worth 
ten  times  the  small  customs  duty  exacted. 

Firearms  and  ammunition  should  be  taken 
along  as  personal  baggage  and  promptly  "de- 
clared'' when  crossing  the  line.  The  former, 
in  ordinary  number  for  one's  personal  use — we 
had  five  rifles  between  us — are  admitted  free, 
but  you  pay  30  per  cent  ad  valorem  on  car- 
tridges, amounting  to  only  a  negligible  sum. 
The  obliging  official  at  Vancouver  is  an  ex- 
tremely sensible  fellow  and  a  few  smokers 
with  a  bit  of  broken  wet  goods  is  not  noticed. 

Speaking  of  the  smokes  reminds  me  to  ad- 
vise all  lovers  of  the  weed  to  take  a  sufficient 
supply  of  their  favorite  brands  along,  for  you 
won't  get  any  on  Provincial  soil.  The  English 
smoke  abominable  tobacco,  their  cigars  being 
veritable  "ropes."  I  had  a  funny  experience 
there.  Being  temporarily  out  of  cigars  while 
separated  from  my  dunnage,  I  went  into  a 
splendidly    appointed    tobacconist's    shop    and 


106 


U'ESTKh'X  FIELD 


;i^k<  .1  for  imported  cigars.  The  attendant 
handed  me  out  a  box  of  "Owls  I"  And  on  my 
somewhat  shaky  inquiry  as  to  whether  lie 
hadn't  any  other  brands  of  "imported"  stock 
he    Bolemnly    produced   a   box   of  "Cremosl" 

And   when    I   had  gotten  over  my   paro 
at    which    he    seemed    slightly    surprised — he 
gravely     remarked:       "We     are     hout     hof 
'Recruits'  just  now,  sir." 

Well,  1  guess  they  were  actually  imported 
from  the  United  States,  all  right,  and  so  I 
poisoned  myself  just  out  of  pure  patriotism. 
Here  we  made  another  mistake,  that  of  laying 
in.  for,  purposes  of  trade  with  the  Indians,  a 
large     supply    of    cheap    so-called     "Siwash" 


quality  ami  at  reasonable  price  in  Vancouver: 

Scotch  whiskey  and  an  18  Foot  open  boat  which 
we  hired  from  a  Mr,  Ross,  whose  boats  and 
business  decency  we  cordially  commend  to 
brother  sportsmen, 

At  the  office  of  the  Provincial  Game  War- 
den we  were  informed  that  no  sporting  license 
was  necessary  if  iish  a*nd  bear  were  the  sole 
objects  in  view,  but  to  be  on  the  safe  side  we 
took  out  one  full  non-resident  license  (cost 
$50)  to  cover  any  camp-meat  or  other  big 
game  emergency,  the  writer  shouldering  the 
responsibility  of  the  killing  thereof.  We  found 
tile  game  officials  very  courteous  and  obliging 
gentlemen,     who    gave    us     much     valuable    in- 


A  Typical  Fi 


rttlement  Enroute      (Alert  Bav) 


tobacco — which  we  afterwards  found  no  self- 
respecting  Siwash  would  touch !  And  while 
on  this  subject  be  it  noted  that,  in  these  "Fresh 
Pasture"  fields  of  ours,  the  only  thing  you 
can  trade  to  a  Siwash  is  cash,  a  commodity, 
even,  of  which  they  all  seem  to  have  more  or 
less  plenteously  in  possession.  I  am  extremely 
dubious  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company's  ability, 
these  days,  to  swap  an  old  Tower  musket 
"even  up"  with  the  unsophisticated  (  !)  Lo  for 
a  flat-piled  bale  of  beaver  skins  as  high  as  the 
musket,  as  was  their  generous  wont  in  the  old 
fur  days. 

Two    things    only   did    we    get    of   excellent 


formation  and  seemed  personally  interested  in 
our  success. 

On  the  night  of  September  10th — or  rather 
in  the  "wee  sma'  hours"  of  the  next  morning — 
the  Camosun  slipped  her  moorings,  and  when 
we  awoke  it  was  to  find  ourselves  well  on  the 
way  to  Betten's  Utopia.  We  had  purchased 
tickets  to  Pilot  Point  on  Gribble  Island,  at  the 
entrance  of  Gardner's  Inlet,  but  at  Vancouver 
we  met  a  trapper  named  Thos.  Collier,  who 
told  us  that  our  better  point  of  disembark- 
ment  was  Hartley  Bay.  Here  he  was  to  meet 
his  trapping  partner  and  go  thence  inland  via 
Gardner's  Inlet.     As  this  was  about  the  course 


THE  PACIFIC  CO. 1ST  MAGAZINE 


407 


we  intended  to  follow,  \vc  joined  issues  tem- 
porarily— and  played  in  great  hick  thereby! 
For  bettor  camp  mates  than  these  two  hardy 
frontiersmen  are  scarcer  than  double  eagles  in 
San  Francisco  at  the  present  writing,  and  we 
enjoyed  every  minute  of  our  all  too  short  as- 
sociation. 

The  traveling  public  is  so  thoroughly  con- 
versant with  the  beauty  of  the  inside  passage 
from  Vancouver  north  that  we  pass  it  without 
comment,  other  titan  that  we  had  smooth 
water  and  fair  weather  all  the  way  up,  cross- 
ing the  only  rough  bit  at  Queen  Charlotte 
Sound  while  we  were  asleep.  The  Camosun  is 
a  splendid  new  twin-propeller  boat,  with  aston- 


jumping  of  countless  salmon  a  stone's  throw 
from  our  blankets.  Looking  out  over  the 
dimpling  little  bay  the  air  was  full  of  leaping 
phantoms  which  disappeared  in  a  series  of 
concentric  circles  whose  interference  broke  the 
mirror  of  the  deep  blue  water  into  yeasty 
corrugations,  scintillating  with  refracted  star- 
light. The  great  fishes  struck  the  water  with 
noises  like  muffled  pistol  shots  and  the  rever- 
berations of  their  combined  blow,  sounded 
like  a  distant  regiment  in  modern  rapid-fire 
action.  Out  of  the  grey  of  the  opposite  shore 
a  Siwash  came  leisurely  paddling  his  dugout, 
dropping  his  net  as  he  came.  There  being, 
during  the  obtaining  high  tide,  no  suitable  place 


Fob  Etlect  at  Entrance  to  Gardner's  Inlet 


ishingly  little  roll  for  a  craft  of  her  size,  and 
at  no  time  did  mal  dc  mer  obtrude  its  nau- 
seous head.  The  boat  was  handled  very  skil- 
fully, the  numerous  landings — many  of  them 
made  at  night — being  effected  with  marvelous 
accuracy  and  dispatch.  There  was  so  much 
that  was  beautiful  in  the  passing  panorama 
that  tedium  was  an  ill  unknown,  and  on  the 
night  of  the  second  of  two  very  short  days,  in- 
deed, we  disembarked  at  the  old  Indian  dock 
of  Hartley  Bay,  spread  our  beds  in  the  dock 
shed  and  slept  on  the  threshold  of  our  desire. 

I    was    awakened    before    daybreak    by    the 


on  the  scanty  beach  to  make  a  cooking  fire, 
we  went  over  to  the  eating  house  of  the  saw- 
mill across  the  bight  and  ate  breakfast  there, 
incidentally  arranging  with  the  proprietor  for 
the  hire  of  his  steam  tug  "Donnie"  to  tow  us 
up  Gardner's  Inlet  as  far  as  the  mouth  of  the 
Kemano  River,  where  we  decided  to  make  our 
headquarters.  Be  it  here  noted  that,  owing  to 
the  canny  ambiguity  of  the  tug  owner's  "esti- 
mate" of  the  distance,  we  paid  just  about  twice 
what  we  should  have  done  for  that  tow.  As 
the  tug  needed  some  repairs  it  was  decided 
that  we  should  start  early  the  next  morning. 
Our    business    concluded,    the    invitation    of 


408 


WESTERN  FIELD 


. 

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3r 

if   S    *  1 

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*j£k&     '4£flE^B^2 

1^  "■'■••' ■ 

the  leaping  salmon  became  irresistible,  and 
putting  together  our  rods  we  were  soon  en- 
gaged in  a  battle  royal  with  the  silver  giants. 
It  was  my  luck  to  be  first  engaged,  and  I 
hooked  and  boated  the  first  salmon  which 
struck.  Betten  catching  one  of  nearly  double 
the  weight  a  few  minutes  later.  We  were 
using  Wilson  and  Stewart  spoons  and  hooked 
every  fish  which  struck.  The  salmon  as  a  rule 
were  of  good  size. 

When  we  had  caught  all  we  cared  to — I 
am  ashamed  to  say  how  many — we  retained 
the  fish  first  caught  for  our  own  use  and  gave 
the  surplus  to  a  Si  wash  who,  not  being  the 
fortunate  possessor  of  a  net.  was  industriously 
trolling  in  a  dugout,  the  line  held  lightly  be- 
tween his  lips  as  he  rowed.  When  he  got  a 
strike  he  spat  out  the  line,  grabbed  at  the 
slack  bight  of  it  and  phlegmatically  hauled  the 


big  fellow  in  until  within  reach  of  his  club, 
wlun  he  just  "soaked  him  a  few,"  as  Stewart 
phrased  it.  and  hauled  him  in  out  of  the  wet. 
His  lure  was  a  sardine  cm  a  single  3-0  hook, 
with  wire  snell.  Our  gift  was  acknowledged 
by  only  a  grunt.  Salmon  were  no  great 
shakes  to  a  man  who  in  one  short  morning 
could  himself  catch  more  than  his  whole 
family  would  eat  in  a  winter's  week.  He  en- 
thused a  whole  lot  more  over  the  small  silver 
coin  I  gave  his  little  son  for  letting  me  snap- 
shot him. 

Getting  tired  of  the  slaughter  we  pulled 
ashore  and  watched  with  interest  the  clever 
work  of  our  friend's  "klootchman,"  who  was 
"handling"  the  catch  preparatory  to  curing  it 
for  winter  consumption.  With  two  skilful 
strokes  of  the  knife  she  removed  the  entire 
flesh  of  each  huge  fish  in  two  great  flakes, 
leaving  the  entrails  untouched  and  the  back- 
bone so  bare  as  to  excite  the  reproach  of  the 
gulls  and  ravens,  who  croaked  their  disgust  at 
her  parsimony.  And  what  is  more  to  the 
point,  it  was  the  most  cleanly  operation  im- 
aginable, and  this  particular  woman's  store  of 
dried  and  drying  salmon  would  appeal  to 
even  the  most  fastidious  palate. 

The  salmon  were  of  three  varieties,  "Sock- 
eyes,"  "Humpbacks"  and  "Cohoes,"  the  latter 
being  the  only  species  that  would  take  a  lure, 
the  others  being  taken  only  in  nets.  The 
humpbacks  have  a  very  repelling  appearance 
to  an  angler  accustomed  to  the  symmetrical 
lines  and  dainty  coloring  of  ordinary  salmon, 
but  both  the  Indians  and  the  white  proprietor 
of  the  canneries  assured  me  that  the  hump- 
back, despite  its  looks,  was  the  better  table 
fish.  Another  fish  of  much  interest  to  me  was 
the  so-called  "Salmon-trout,"  which  greatly 
resembled  a  Dolly  Varden  in  contour,  but 
which  had,  in  the  specimens  I  examined,  a 
broad  (half  inch  wide)  median  stripe  of  faded 
blue  from  gill  to  caudle  fin  and  was  of  a  cop- 
per brown  on  back,  fading  to  a  cream  on  the 
belly.  The  fish  was  profusely  spotted  with 
oblong  black  spots  on  two-thirds  of  the  tail 
end,  showing  only  faintly  on  the  head  and 
gill  region.     It  is  a  new  fish  to  me. 

We  spent  the  afternoon  in  exploration  of 
the  immediate  vicinity,  taking  an  occasional 
shot  at  the  hair  seals  which  abound  in  this 
locality.  On  the  following  morning  the  tug 
hauled  alongside  the  dock  at  seven  o'clock 
and  with  our  boat  and  the  trappers'  Peter- 
boro  canoe  in  tow,  we  headed  through  a  slight 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


409 


fog  for  Gardner's  Inlet,  rounding  the  south 
point  of  Hawkesbury  Island  and  taking  the 
Verney  Channel,  leaving  the  fog  at  its  en- 
trance. 

The  day  was  beautifully  clear  and  the  air 
was  balmy.  On  our  right  Gribble  Island's 
glaciers  gleamed  in  the  sun,  and  the  skipper  of 
our  craft  pointed  out  the  precise  location  where 
a  white  bear  (Visits  kermodei)  had  been  shot 
the  year  before. 

As  this  was  the  real  inceptive  object  of  our 
trip,  a  word  anent  this  particular  beast  may  be 
not  out  of  place  here,  and  I  can  do  no  better 
than  to  quote  the  description  of  it  given  me 
by  Mr.  F.  M.  Kelly  of  Victoria,  B.  C,  to  whose 
kindness  I  am  also  indebted  for  the  photograph 
which  constitutes  our  frontispiece  this  issue : 

"This  white  bear  (Ursus  kermodei)  is  small, 
much  below  weight  and  dimensions  of  black 
bears.  In  general  appearance  its  skin  is  like 
that  of  a  long-furred  and  particularly  hand- 
some polar  bear.  Its  color  is  clear,  creamy 
white,  with  no  trace  of  brown,  black  or  any 
other  dark  color.  On  the  upper  neck  and  head 
and  on  the  forelegs  a  yellowish  creamy  tint  is 
well  defined.  The  hair  is  all  white  down  to 
the  roots ;  and  on  the  entire  animal  there  is 
not  one  brown  or  black  hair.  The  ears  are 
very  small  and  the  hair  upon  them  is  very 
straight  and  short.  The  pelage  of  the  type 
specimen  is  very  long,  fine,  abundant  and  in 
places  of  silky  softness.  The  hair  grows  in 
tufts,  and  in  both  quality  and  manner  of 
growth  it  distinctly  resembles  the  pelage  of 
the  Alaskan  brown  bears  rather  than  the 
shorter,  smoothly-trimmed  coat  of  the  black 
bear.  The  basal  half  of  the  pelage  is  very 
fine,  woolly  and  warm,  and  only  the  tip  of  the 
terminal  portion  is  straightened  out  to  form 
the  raincoat.  Only  on  the  forehead,  muzzle 
and  lower  portions  of  the  limbs  does  the 
hair  grow  short,  and  develop  the  straight  and 
stiff  character  that  is  necessary  at  those  points 
for  the  comfort  of  the  animal.  The  pelage  on 
the  two  young  specimens  consists  of  a  dense 
coat  of  fine  woolly  hair,  through  which  appears 
a  scattering  growth  of  long,  straight  hairs. 
Both  are  everywhere  creamy  white.  The 
claws  are  dull  white,  thin  and  strongly  curved, 
representing  about  120  degrees  of  a  perfect 
circle,  one  and  seven-eighths  inches  in  diam- 
eter for  the  middle  front  claw.  The  teeth 
differ  widely  from  those  of  a  polar  bear,  and 
indicate  relationship  to  the  American  black 
bear. 


"Dr.  Hornaday  first  secured  a  specimen  skin 
in  1900.  The  dealer  said  it  came  from  the 
Naas  River  country,  and  that  he  had  pre- 
viously received  four  or  five  skins  from  the 
same  locality.  Four  years  elapsed,  however, 
before  Frank  Kermode,  curator  of  the  Pro- 
vincial Museum,  Victoria,  secured  three  skins 
in  a  state  of  good  preservation.  Dr.  Hornaday 
states  that  there  is  not  the  slightest  proba- 
bility of  albinoism  being  rampant  among  any 
of  the  known  species  of  bears  of  North 
America ;  and  it  is  safe  to  assume  the  speci- 
mens secured  do  not  owe  their  color  to  a 
continuous  series  of  freaks  of  nature.  There 
is  no  escape  from  the  conclusion  that  a 
hitherto  unknown  species  of  white  bear  of 
very  small  size  inhabits  the  west-central  por- 
tion of  British  Columbia.  Ursus  kermodei  is 
known  to  range  between  Rivers  Inlet  and  Naas 
River.  It  belongs  to  the  uplands,  its  habitat 
being  about  1400  feet  above  sea  level.  The 
two   large   specimens   shown   were   secured  on 


a  Rule  Were  of  Good  Siz 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Porpoises  Raced  Merrily  Across  Our  Bo 


Gribble     Island;    while    the    small    specimens 
came  from  Princess  Royal  Island." 

It  was  our  intention  to  stop  over  at  Gribble 
Island  on  our  return  and  put  in  a  week  hunt- 
ing white  bears.  But  for  reasons  beyond  our 
control  we  were  compelled  to  abandon  this 
part  of  the  program,  though  fully  resolved  to 


make  a  special  trip  to  Gribble  in  the  near 
future  for  the  particular  purpose  of  making 
Ker model's  close  acquaintance.  It  may  be 
said  here  that  Mr.  Robinson,  who  runs  the 
trading  post  at  Hartley  Bay,  earnestly  assured 
me  that  albinoism  seemed  to  be  peculiarly 
prevalent    on    Gribble    Island,    he    having   had 


Looking  Up  Vernev   Channel 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


411 


secured  at  various 
times  from  the  Si- 
washes  not  only  the 
skins  of  white  bears, 
but  of  white  minks, 
white  beavers  and 
white  otters  as  well, 
with  not  a  few  parti- 
colored individuals  to 
accentuate  the  island's 
colorative  peculiari- 
ties! 

As  we  entered  Ver- 
ney  Channel  we  en- 
countered a  school  of 
porpoises  which  raced 
merrily  along,  cross- 
ing and  recrossing 
our  bows  with  agile 
ease,  and  about  half  a 
mile  ahead  we  raised 
two  enormous  righj 
whales  who  delighted 
us  for  the  better  part 
of  an  hour  with  their 
clumsy  antics.  One 
in  particular  was  a 
bulky  monster  with  a 
tail  seemingly  thirty 
feet  wide,  who  spouted 


Ned  McCrohan  (Sourdo 
ike  a  geyser  and  threv 


i  Humpback  Salm< 
a  week's  sojourn  on  the  Inlet 


Up  tons  of  spray  as  he 
sounded.  In  view  of 
the  vast  expanse  of 
water  everywhere  at 
hand  there  was  a  sur- 
prising absence  of 
waterfowl.  Gulls  and 
grebes  were  plentiful 
enough,  but  of  ducks 
and  geese  we  saw 
hardly  any — not  as 
many  on  the  whole 
trip  as  one  would  en- 
counter in  a  half  day 
on  the  Suisun.  In 
fact,  I  can  recall  only 
two  small  flocks  of 
mallards  and  one  gag-, 
gle  of  geese.  There 
are  no  shallow-water 
feeding  grounds  in 
this  section  and  the 
ducks'  fligfit  is  farther 
inland.  But  of  eagles 
there  was  "great 
store,"  as  the  old- 
time  naturalists  would 
phrase  it ;  we  saw 
scores    of    them    dur- 


{To  be  continued.') 


(F 


*\ 


V= 


VOICE  OF  THE  DESERT  SILENCE 

WHAT  doth  the  Desert  dream?     No  uttered  word 
.   Tells   of  the  far-off  years   of  its  long   slumber, 


Like   wi 
Mute 


gray   wings 
nee,  sph 


like 


ne  great   broodi 
ih  the  waste  en 


ig  bird 


The    Desert    dreams— O    man,    the    Desert    waits. 
In     barren    silence,    or    'neath    burning     wind; 

Beauty,    and    dread,    and    power,    within    its    gates, 
And   mortal   need,   that   waits   immortal   mind. 

Its    silence   holds    a   Word:     "Reach    out    and    be 
Forever    all    the    truth    thy    spirit    knows. 

Ears   thou   hast, — hear  !      Eyes — Ah,   behold   and   see  ! 
Then  should'st  thou  make  me  blossom  as  the  rose." 
— Alice  Spicer. 


WESTERS  FIELD 


THE  CYCLE 
OF  THE  HILLS 


IT 


KNOW    not    whether    it    is    love    or    hate 
for    cities.      By    the    sea,    among 
The    pines,    upon    my    mother    Nature's    breast, 
Surrounded    by    the    flowers,    I    hate    the    din 
And  strife,  the  brawl  and  reek,  the  sham,  the  greed, 
The    squalor    and   the   ugliness   of   towns. 
Their    poor    attempts    at    nature    but    repel. 
In    park    and    monument    and    stately    pile 
I     see    the    nails    that    men    have    driven,    smell 
The   paint    that   gilds   their   tawdry    wood   and   stone. 
The    music    that    I    hear    is   discords    all 
Beside    the    murmur    of    the    leaves,    the    song 
Of   tides    and   canon    zephyrs.      What   is  art 
But    daubs    of   ochre,    set    against    the   hues 
Of  spangled  hills,  the  blue  of  violets? 
What    fane    that    men    have    reared    is    beautiful 
Compared    with    all    the    temples    of    the    peaks? 
Man    apes    the   rose    and    calls    it    art    to    catch 
The   dullest   tint.      He   steals   one   mimicked   strain 
From  storm  and  wind  and  whispering  eves  and  dawns. 
From  bird  and  bough  and  field  and  wave,  and  calls 
His    piping    song!      He    raises    stone   on    ston£. 
With    fretted    dome    and   painted   pinnacle 
And    calls    them   palaces.     And  then   he   hates 
And    strives    and    battles    with   his    kind    and    kills 
His    brother    with    a    cold    neglect    and    laughs 
While  many  mourners  weep — and  this  is  towns  ! 


I    KNOW    not    when    I    love    the    mountains    most, 

'    For    when    they    doff   their    slumber-robes    of   white 

Wherein    they    passed    the    nighttime    of   the   year, 

And    don    the    morning    garb    of    Spring,    methinks 

They    are   the   fairest    work   that   God   hath   wrought. 

Arrayed    in    all    their    finery    of    green. 

With     brooks    for    laughter,    breath    of    pines 

For  perfume,   canon   breezes  for  a  sigh. 

The    restful    silences    for    thoughtfulness. 

With    fern    and    vine    and   flower   for   gems, 

The    sunshine   for   the    coquetry    of    smiles 

And    showers    for    swift    capricious    tears. 

But   when   the   Summer's   ripened   splendor  falls, 

The   glory    of   their   noon,   the   richer   tints 

Of    their    resplendent    life,    they    seem    more    fair. 

Then    Autumn    comes   and   they    are   garbed    in    robes 

No    loom    but    Nature's    ever    wove.      And   when 

They   throw   the   white   mantillas  of   the   mists 

About   their   heads,    it   seems  that   God   Himself 

Hath    done    His    all. — And    then    I    wake    to    find, 

Some    crisp    October    morn,    the    primal    snow. 

Like    drifted    silver    on    the    temples    of    the    year, 

Hath  ermined  Autumn's  robes. — And  then  the  white 

Pure   days   of   Winter   shroud   the   sleeping   Spring. 

The   stainless    mountains    stretch    from    earth    to    sky, 

Like    alabaster    beaches    on   which    break 

The   oceans   of   the   clouds.     And    I   forget 

That    just    beyond   them    lies   the    spotted   world 

Of    men. — Yet    who    shall    say   that   green    or   gold 

Or    white    is    fairest,    who    compare. 

When   all   that   God  hath   done  is  beautiful? 


By  Win.  E.  Winc 


Photographs  by  Grabi 

OU  have  heard  of  the  hunter's 
paradise,  where  grouse  swarm 
under  foot,  deer  run  from  glade 
to  glade  and  bruin  is  quite  fre- 
quent on  the  trails ;  where  trout 
crowd  each  other  in -trying  for 
the  fly  and  all  game  is  at  the 
mercy  of  the  man  with  gun  and 
rod. 

But  when  you  have  loaded 
your  pack  horse,  endured  the  desert  possibly, 
fought  your  way  up  almost  impassable  moun- 
tain sides  and  have  suffered  all  the  physical 
privations  and  difficulties  under  the  sun,  you 
have  found  the  game  as  shy  as  ever  and  have 
been  forced  to  practice  all  the  old,  tiring 
stunts  in  order  to  win  success  and  skins  in 
the  wilds. 

This  is  a  story  of  the  hunter's  paradise.  In 
it  there  is  no  nature  faking.  The  participants 
all  are  men  of  modest  mien  whose  standing 
in  Southern  California  is  as  unquestioned  as 
their  veracity.  And  besides,  they  brought 
home  the  goods. 

In  this  foreword  it  behooves  me  to  ex- 
plain that  the  stories  of  this  hunt  were  re- 
lated, not  for  publication,  over  the  cigars  in 
a  cosy  corner  of  the  club  smoking  room. 
The  pictures  were  retrieved  from  Photog- 
rapher Graham  by  peculiar  methods  and  the 
subjects  mentioned  herein  have  no  knowledge 
that  their  vacation  doings  have  traveled  north- 
ward through  the  mails  to  the  editor  of  West- 
ern Field. 

The  fortunate  bunch  which  participated  in 
this  trip  were:  Charles  Mellen,  superin- 
tendent Ocean  Park  Water  Company;  Ed. 
Wood,  right  of  way  agent  for  H.  E.  Hunting- 
ton's Pacific  Electric  Railway  Company ; 
Claude  Parker,  deputy  auditor  of  Los  Angeles 
county ;  Frank  Drake,  assistant  manager  of 
the  Sun  Drug  Company,  and  William  Gra- 
ham, all  hunters  of  big  (and  little)  game  who 
have  won  laurels  in  many  past  seasons. 

They  made  a  campaign  of  the  American 
river  country,   Placer  county,   and  the   results 


;  Angeles 

demonstrated  that  this  ideal  hunting  ground 
has  not  suffered  the  usual  slaughter  and  the 
fish  there  are  not  too  wise. 

And  now  you  shall  hear  of  the  death  of 
"Old  Cinnamon,"  the  last  battle  of  "Black 
Douglas,"  the  retrieving  of  Bruin  with  a 
Kodak,  the  death  of  the  challenge  buck  of  the 
north,  the  dreamlike  story  of  catching  three 
trout  on  one  line  at  one  time,  and  last,  but 
not  least,  the  deeds  of  Jack,  bravest  cook  that 
ever  dared  the  wilds  to  do  their  worst. 

Let  a  member  of  the  party  tell  the  story  in 
his  own  language : 

The  doings  began  early.  We  struck  the 
headwaters  of  American  river  the  first  week 
in  September  and  went  into  camp.  Charley 
Mellen,  anxious  to  start  the  grief  among  the 
denizens  of  the  mountains,  left  camp  before 
breakfast  for  a  turn  about.  Within  an  hour 
he  returned  waving  his  hat  and  shouting : 

"Two  bear  !     Two  bear  !" 

The  whoops  were  received  with  much  de- 
rision but  we  soon  were  convinced  that  some- 
thing unusual  had  stirred  the  steady-going  Mel- 
len. He  declared  that  he  had  gone  hunting  deer 
tracks  but,  instead,  ran  across  prints  in  the 
soil  which  indicated  that  there  was  bear  meat 
within  a  thousand  miles  of  camp.  All  the 
tracks  headed  for  a  small  meadow  about  one 
hundred  acres  in  extent  through  which 
flowed  a  small  stream  with  dense  brush  and 
trees  growing  along  the  banks. 

Xext  his  attention  was  attracted  by  some- 
thing moving  in  a  dead  tree.  Mellen  took  a 
pot  shot  for  luck.  The  report  startled  some- 
thing nearby.  The  hunter  turned  to  see  some- 
thing black  getting  away  in  the  underbrush. 
The  first  shot  stopped  that  confusion.  An 
investigation  showed  that  Mellen  had  bagged 
two  good-sized  cubs.  About  this  time  it  be- 
gan to  dawn  upon  the  hunter  that  game  of 
larger  size,  including  the  mother  bear,  prob- 
ably was  somewhere  near.  He  therefore  re- 
turned to  camp  to  spread  the  news. 

Breakfast?  Nothing  doing.  The  whole 
crowd  seized  weapons  and  swarmed  upon  the 


WESTERN  111!  D 


to  beat  the  band  and  clawed  down  trees  in 
liis  wrath.  At  least  that  was  the  way  it 
Bounded  to  us. 

About  this  time  I  noticed  the  bravest  chef 
of  then  all.  Jack  stood  in  the  rear.  H 
a  large  rock  in  each  hand.  I  could  tell  from 
his  demeanor  that  he  wasn't  awaiting  an 
opportunity  of  dashing  forward  and  breaking 
the  bear's  skull  with  the  stones.  His  eyes 
hung  out  of  his  head  and  his  knees  batted 
together  with  the  rhythm  of  tom-tom  music. 

"Better  get  out  of  here,"  someone  advised. 

"W-w-what?"    he  stammered.    "M-m-m-e  go 


trail.  Jack,  our  brave  cook,  followed  closely. 
The  boys  spread  and  stationed  themselves  on 
ridges  commanding  the  canon  leading  from  the 
meadow. 

You  can  imagine  we  all  were  on  the  qui  vive. 
It  was  the  first  scent  of  the  chase  and  the  ele- 
ment of  danger  was  not  lacking.  A  mother 
bear  looking  for  trouble,  and  as  full  of  fight 
as  a  bob-cat,  is  sufficient  to  put  a  fellow- 
right  up  on  edge.  Therefore  when  one  of 
the  boys  walked  out  on  a  fallen  tree  and  a 
threshing  machine  seemed  to  start  up  almost 
under  him,  he  went  up  into  the  air  and  came 
down  in  the  brush  with  every  hair  standing. 
It  was  only  a  grouse,  but  the  bird  picked  an 
unfortunate  moment  to  make  its  getaway. 
After  crouching  in  our  places  for  what 
seemed  an  age  someone  turned  loose.  Bang! 
Every  fellow  was  on  his  feet  with  finger  on 
the  trigger. 

"There  she  goes !"  came  the  cry  and  we  saw 
a  big  bear  who  had  foxily  circled  and  was 
making  the  gravel  fly  up  an  unprotected 
caiion.  Br-r-r-r,  sung  the  repeaters.  The  high 
power  guns  shed  hail  in  the  direction  of  the 
vanishing  bear.  The  pebbles  and  dirt  flew  in- 
to clouds  all  around  the  game.  I  wondered 
why  the  bear  didn't  drop.  It  seemed  that  he 
must  be  stopping  plenty  of  lead.  Into  a 
thicket  plumped  the  game  and  vanished.  We 
surrounded  the  place. 

Curiously  enough  no  one  rushed  in  ahead 
of  the  rest  to  pump  the  bear  full  of  lead.  All 
the  boys  seemed  inclined  to  play  fair  and  give 
everyone  else  a  fair  show.  Bruin  was  wait- 
ing for  us  all  right.  He — it  proved  to  be  a 
male — gave  us  plenty  of  information  on  that 
score.  This  bear  was  not  one  of  those 
gentlemanly  fellows  who  turns  the  broadest 
side  for  the  finishing  shot.    Instead,  he  howled 


and  that  bear  break  out  right  behind  me  on 
the  j-j-jump.  Nit!  I  stay  r-r-right  behind 
the  g-g-guns." 

We  began  the  advance  and  hadn't  gone  far 
before  we  sighted  the  big  black  fellow.  We 
could  see  he  was  wounded  but  full  of  battle. 
He  still  was  clawing  off  bark,  canoe  size,  and 
inviting  us  to  come  on  and  be  chewed  a  few. 

"Black  Douglas  come  back  to  life,"  cried 
Parker  who  gets  books  at  the  library  some- 
times. "Douglas"  reared,  Mellen  drew  a  bead 
on  him,  the  camera  snapped  and  the  guns 
barked  again.  Bruin  went  down  with  a  crash 
and  the  camp  had  its  first  skin.  We  examined 
the  carcass  and  found  that  "Douglas"  had 
made  his  run  with  a  bullet  through  his  stomach 
and  another  through  his  shoulder. 

Bear  fever  now  possessed  the  bunch.  We 
rushed  back  to  camp,  bolted  breakfast  and 
then  made  a  search  of  the  meadow.  We  found 
the  remains  of  three  cows  the  bears  had  been 
eating  but  no  sign  of  live  hair  all  that  day. 
The  next  day  there  were  more  signs  which 
told  of  midnight  visits  and  decided  that  a 
trap  next  was  in  order.   We  set  one  guaranteed 


THE  r.lClFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


415 


to  do  business  with  the  huskiest  hear  on  the 
mountains.  For  two  mornings  we  found  signs 
which  demonstrated  that  bears  could  gumshoe 
all  around  a  hungry  trap,  steal  the  bait  and 
get  away  safely. 

The  third  morning  there  was  a  different 
story  printed  on  the  landscape.  When  some 
distance  from  the  place  Wood  erf  the  keen 
ear  paused  and  said :  "Aha !  I  hear  things." 
We  gave  him  the  laugh  and  asked  him  what 
he  also  saw.  However,  we  hadn't  continued 
far  before  unearthly  noises  startled  the  whole 
crowd. 

"We  have  him !"  chorused  the  gang.  Cor- 
rect, the  very  first  time.  The  trap  was  gone. 
In  setting  the  trap  Graham  declared  that  the 
chain  must  not  be  fastened,  as  any  wild  animal, 
if  caught  by  the  foot,  would  gnaw  the  member 
off  and  stump  it  for  other  regions.  There- 
fore we  fastened  the  trap  chain  to  a  big  loose 
log. 

We  found  the  trail  easily.  A  blind  man 
could  not  have  overlooked  it.  Bruin,  upon 
finding  something  afflicting  his  leg  had  plunged 
for  the  thickest  brush.  Naturally  he  took  the 
big  log  with  him.    The  heavy  timber,  yanked 


Miller  and  his  Big  One 

along  impetuously,  had  mowed  quite  a  swath. 
In  places  we  found  where  the  log  had  held. 
At  such  spots  the  bear  had  used  his  teeth  and 
claws  to  free  the  obstructions.  Brush  and 
even  small  trees  were  broken  and  torn.  At 
one  place  Bruin  had  bitten  through  a  trunk 
five  inches  thick. 

We  finally  sighted  the  game.  "He  is  fast 
again.  Give  me  the  camera,"  exclaimed 
Mellen. 

What  followed  should  be  hunting  history. 
Let  Mellen  tell  it.   He  certainly  has  the  right : 

"I   have   heard   manv   hunters   declare   that, 


while  in  the  nfountains  or  plains,  >at  times 
they  have  been  seized  with  the  desire  to  be 
alone.  At  periods  something  born  of  the 
primeval  brings  the  feeling.  In  other  instances 
sweet  solitude  is  sought  for  other  reasons. 

"I  can  testify  that  it  is  a  fact.  I  also  have 
felt  it.  This  time  the  feeling  took  a  great 
hold  on  me.  In  fact  it  amounted  almost  to 
a  frenzy.  I  was  trailing  a  bear  attached  to  a 
log  and  chain  at  the  time.  The  gang  was  in 
the  rear  when  we  sighted  the  game. 

"I  knew  Bruin  was  hard  and  fast  because 
he  hadn't  gone  as  far  as  he  would  had  that 
log  been  free.  He  was  a  big  cinnamon.  When 
we  dawned  on  the  view  he  was  sitting  down 
with  his  tongue  hanging  out  extremely  as  if 
he  were  tired.  I  figured  that  he  had  fought  a 
killing  battle  in  order  to  free  himself  from 
the  trap  and  chain-log.  There  he  was— 
anchored  and  exhausted. 

"The  crowd  staid  behind  with  the  guns.  I 
walked  up  to  get  a  picture  of  a  live  bear  in 
his  native  haunts.  You  see,  I  had  one  of 
these  small  kodaks  and  had  to  get  up  close. 
Next  I  noticed  that  Bruin's  head  was  turned 
away.  I  wasn't  out  for  a  rear  elevation  of 
bearskin  and  so  I  whistled  to  attract  his 
attention.  Say,  if  you  ever  want  to  attract  a 
bear's  attention  try  whistling.  I  never  was 
so  successful  at  anything  in  my  life.  Bruin 
whirled  around.  Just  about  this  time  I  dis- 
covered that  he  wasn't  so  worried  as  he 
looked.    In  fact  he  seemed  absolutely  fresh. 

"Next  I  became  aware  that  he  was  not 
bound  to  the  spot  by  the  chain.  In  fact  he 
seemed  to  be  approaching  with  much  eclat.  It 
was  at  this  moment  that  the  hunter's  desire 
to  be  alone  seized  me.    I  didn't  like  the  sur- 


416 


WESTERN  FIELD 


roundings,  anyway.  Somehow  or  other  I  felt 
thai  a  solitary  period  of  communion  with 
nature  far  from  the  haunts  of  men  and  beasts 
was   what    I    needed   most. 

"Acting  upon  this  yearning,  emanating  from 

my   subconscious   being,   1    began   to  separate 


The  facts  are  sowewhat  different.  Mr. 
Mellen  is  the  Original  modest  hunter.  Mellen 
deliberately  walked  up  to  the  cinnamon,  armed 
with  nothing  hut  the  kodak.  He  took  chances 
Of,  being  everlastingly  clawed  and  chewed  for 
the   game   was  as  ugly  as   sin   and   as   full  of 


The  Outfit  in  Camp.     (High  Living!) 


myself  from  the  distasteful  scene  with  a 
whole-souled  determination  that  caused  great 
admiration  upon  the  part  of  the  boys  who 
were  coming  up.  They  shot  the  bear  and  re- 
moved the  deceptive  and  low-down  trap  and 
log.  The  first  question  came  from  a  man  I 
thought  was  my  friend. 

"He  asked:  "Why  did  you  whistle?'  Xow, 
what  do  you  think  of  that ! 

"When  we  developed  the  films  that  night 
one  of  the  negatives  presented  a  weird, 
moving-picture  effect.  I  must  have  thought  I 
was  collecting  material  for  an  Orpheum 
canvas  stunt.  All  the  trees  showing  on  £ke 
picture  seemed  to  be  agitated,  while  the 
scenery  appeared  to  be  departing  with  much 
suddenness.  In  the  center  of  the  film  was 
something  with  its  mouth  open  and  hooks 
extended.  I  don't  care  much  for  the  picture 
now." 


fight  as  a  cornered  bob  cat.  When  the  bear 
turned  on  Mellen  the  latter  was  forced  to  get 
into  quick  action.  He  snapped  the  camera  and 
started  on  the  getaway.  The  sudden  action 
was  too  much  for  the  slow  shutter.  It  was 
one  of  the  nerviest  acts  a  hunter  ever  did 
and  the  gang  was  proud  of  the  superintendent 
who  had  the  nerve  to  make  the  play.  How- 
ever the  crowd  couldn't  resist  whistling  at 
Mellen  once  in  a  while  during  the  remainder 
of  the  hunt. 

With  two  big  bear  skins  to  our  credit  we 
were  a  happy  bunch.  However,  the  deer 
situation  was  being  neglected  and  we  deter- 
mined to  turn  our  attention  to  that  kind  of 
game  for  a  while.  We  saw  many  traces  in- 
dicating that  the  antlered  herds  were  travel- 
ing away  from  our  immediate  vicinity.  While 
we  were  discussing  plans  for  bagging  the 
fleetest   game    of   the    region    Claude   declared 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


417 


that  it  was  a  shame  to  ovcrlpok  the  picturesque 
streams  about  us,  where  trout  of  artistic  build 
seemed  to  be  yearning  for  artificial-fly  bait. 
The  crowd  thereupon  voted  to  go  a'fishing. 

We  chose  a  stream  where  the  wash  of 
centuries  had  cut  deeply  into  the  rocks,  creat- 
ing many  ideal  casting  places  for  the  amateur 
Walton.  Armed  with  rods  we  stalked  the 
nearest  stream.  There  was,  however,  no 
necessity  for  lurking  behind  boulders  and 
shrubbery  that  day.  The  sun  did  not  shine  and 
the  fish  were  leaping  to  beat  the  band. 

It  was  merely  the  case  of  toss  your  fly  and 
swift  play  with  a  greedy  trout.  The  gasp- 
ing beauties  were  brought  to  net  so  fast  that 
the  game  proved  too  easy  for  some  of  the 
boys.  One  of  them  tied  three  hooks  to  his 
line  and  inside  of  a  minute  was  playing  with 


hoppers.  He  said  he  had  heard  that  a  grass- 
hopper would  lure  the  grand  daddy  of  trout 
from  his  siesta  at  high  noon  and  he  wanted 
to  find  out  something  about  it.  It  only  took 
Graham  a  half  hour  to  run  down  six-  grass- 
hoppers. He  then  began  operations.  The  first 
two  got  off  his  hook.  The  next  three  were 
pulled  off  by  foxy  trout  which  seized  the  hop- 
pers by  the  leg.  The  sixth  took  advantage  of 
the  excitement  and  fled  the  scene. 

The  trout  in  American  River  mountains  are 
delicious  but  do  not  average  up  in  size  to 
those  of  Kern  river  where  the  finest  trout  fish- 
ing on  the  Pacific  coast  is  enjoyed.  We 
secured  sufficient  fish  in  two  hours  to  stock 
our  larder  for  two  days.  The  largest  trout 
taken  was  eighteen  inches.  The  majority  were 
about  ten. 


Mcllen  Potting  "Black  Douglas" 


three  trout  on  a  single  line.  I  am  counted  an 
honest  man  even  in  a  poker  game  and  I  can 
swear  to  the  fact  of  three  trout  tugging  at 
one  pole,  with  my  hand  on  my  heart  and  my 
wife  looking  me  straight  in  the  eye. 

During  the  play,   Graham,   the   man   of  ex- 
periments, wandered  away  in  search  of  grass- 


■  On  this  expedition  we  came  upon  a  spring 
tasting  of  soda  and  iron.  A  well  defined  deer 
trail  led  to  the  place.  We  followed  the  tracks 
and  discovered  the  feeding  grounds.  It  was 
dark  the  following  morning  when  the  crowd 
took  up  the  deer  trail  using  bicycle  lamps  in 
making  our  way  to  the  feeding  grounds.    At 


418 


WESTERN  FIELD 


Little-But  They  are  Bears 

tlie  first  peep  o'  day  we  separated  and  took 
our  positions  overlooking  the  surrounding 
country. 

"Grasshopper"  Graham  was  the  first  lucky 
man.  He  sighted  a  300-pound  buck  breaking 
through  the  brush.  Graham  brought  up  his 
gun  and  found  he  couldn't  draw  a  bead.  He 
pulled  down  the  weapon  and  looked  it  over. 
The  sights  were  all  there.  He  tried  again  and 
for  the  first  time  in  his  excitement,  noted  that 
a  cute  little  beam  from  the  rising  sun  was 
looking  along  the  barrel  right  in  his  eye,  as 
he  afterwards  explained. 

Time  was  flying  and  the  buck  was  about 
due  to  do  likewise.  Therefore  "Grasshopper" 
drew  as  fine  as  he  could  in  the  circumstances 
and  let  go.  The  report  echoed  through  the 
hills  and  brought  every  hunter  up  on  the  tip- 
toe of  expectancy.  A  crashing  in  the  brush 
ensued.  Parker,  who  was  near,  thought  he 
saw  something  and  opened  up  in  lively  fashion. 
Sure  enough  there  was  something  ahead  which 
sailed  for  the  saddle  with  much  earnestness. 

Crack!  Crack!  Crack!  Drake  didn't  seem 
to  care  for  expenses.  Whang!  Bang!  He  con- 
tinued to  throw  good  money  after  bad.  The 
point  of  disappearing  was  some  distance  ahead 


and  ihis  gave  Parker  the  finest  chance  in  the 
world  to  rake  his  game  fore  and  aft.  Graham 
hopped  about  but  couldn't  get  into  the  game, 
lie  said  afterwards  that  it  was  one  of  the  el 
dest  moments  of  his  life.  At  the  seventh  shot 
the  'leer  dropped,  then  leaped  to  its  feet  and 
shot  out  of  sight.  Then  there  was  the  kind 
of  language  that  the  telegraph  companies  will 
in  >t  send  and  a  rush  ahead. 

When  the  two  got  over  the  saddle  they 
found  the  prize  buck  of  the  season  wounded 
and  at  bay,  snorting,  stamping  and  shaking  a 
pair  of  magnificent  antlers  in  defiance  of  its 
pursuers.  Parker  brought  down  the  buck 
with  a  single  shot,  while  "Grasshopper,"  in 
impenetrable  gloom,  stood  upon  one  foot. 

"You  beat  me  to  it  but  I  got  the  second 
one,"  cried  the  jubilant   Parker. 

"What's  that?"  demanded  Graham,  coming 
out   of  it.    "Is  this   mine?" 

"Not  on  your  life,"  returned  Parker. 
"Vour's  is  back  there.  You  dropped  it  the 
first  shot." 

Returning  to  the  scene  of  opening  a  fine 
buck  was  found  stretched  upon  the  ground 
100  yards  from  the  spot  where  fell  Parker's 
prize.  The  latter  weighed  500  pounds  (so 
Parker  avers)  and  was  truly  the  largest 
killed  in  the  mountains  for  many  years. 

Jack,  the  courageous,  again  displayed  his 
particular  brand  of  bravery  upon  this  occasion. 
As  we  approached  camp  we  heard  a  noise 
which  sounded  as  if  the  Apaches  had  taken 
possession  and  were  giving  a  concert  for  the 
benefit  of  the  victim  at  the  stake.  We  ran 
forward  and  found  our  noble  chef  crouching 
behind  a  stump  and  pounding  away  on  a" tin 
pan  for  dear  life. 
"What's  the  idea?"  demanded  Drake. 
"I  thought  you  was  a-stirrin'  up  more  bear 
and  I  wasn't  goin'  to  have  any  of  'em  runnin' 
into  this  camp  a-bitin'  me,"  said  Jack.  Three 
of  us  kicked  him  at  one  and  the  same  time. 

We  now  had  some  fine  bear  bait  and  lost 
no  time  in  setting  the  trap  again.  We  located 
the  lure  in  an  ideal  place  and  dragged  entrails 
in  every  direction  leading  to  the  trap.  Fine 
doings !  The  next  morning  we  found  a  fine 
cinnamon  who  seemed  to  be  hatching  out  a 
litter  of  traps.  The  chain,  fastened  securely 
this  time  held,  and  Mr.  Bear  was  doing  his 
best  to  eat  the  iron  links.  As  we  approached 
he  discovered  a  new  method.  He  back 
to  a  tree  and  using  his  fore  feet  gave  a 
and  a  mighty  tug.     As  a  result  Brum  turnea  a 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


419 


complete  somersault  and  fell  on  his  back.  He 
gave  a  sigh  and  settled  down  for  a  rest  in 
that  position. 

The  thoughtful  Ed.  Wood,  who  was  dancing 
around  waiting  for  the  signal  to  shoot,  cried : 
"Look  out !  He  might  chew  off  his  foot."  He 
then  seized  a  club  and,  rushing  up,  hurled  it 
at  the  bear.  It  beats  the  world  what  a  hunter 
will  do  under  exciting  circumstances. 

The  clump  of  wood  struck  Bruin  in  the 
stomach.  In  a  moment  he  was  on  his  feet 
chewing  the  club  to  pulp  and  growling  enough 
for  seven  bears.  A  single  shot  in  the  head 
ended  the  career  of  this  bear. 

With  the  report  we  heard  something  go 
crashing  through  the  underbrush  to  the  wind- 


trails  inside  her.  So  we  put  on  more  bait  and 
arranged  affairs  so  that  the  game  surely  would 
come  to  grief  on  her  next  visit.  Say,  that 
bear  was  long  on  calculation.  She  was  several 
calculates  ahead  of  our  crowd,  as  the  sequel 
proved.  The  bearess  went  up  against  our 
cinch  proposition  by  digging  under  the  logs 
and  walking  away  with  the  bait !  We  tried 
for  the  foxy  animal  two  more  nights,  using 
honey  and  other  luring  feed,  but  we  never 
heard  from  her  again. 

During  our  stay  of  three  weeks  in  these 
mountains  we  secured  seven  deer  in  addition 
to  our  bear.  We  found  the  grouse  and  trout 
plentiful  throughout  our  stay  and  every  hunt 
was     characterized     by     something     different. 


ward  and  the  crowd  piled  over  there  with 
every  gun  ready  for  business.  There  was 
nothing  in  sight,  but  we  found  signs  which 
told  us  the  dead  cinnamon's  mate  had  waited 
within  thirty  yards  of  the  trap  while  we  ap- 
proached and  killed  the  imprisoned  game. 

We  promptly  baited  the  trap  for  the  female, 
placing  it  in  "V"-shaped  logs.  The  next  morn- 
ing the  bait  was  gone,  but  the  trap  had  not 
been  sprung.  Mamma  bear  had  been  wiser 
than  the  old  man.  Instead  of  approaching  the 
spot  by  the  natural  route  she  had  climbed  the 
;ed  ends  of  the  logs,  made  a  long  reach 
i        nward  and  had  gone  away  with  all  the  en- 


During  the  latter  end  of  the  -hunt  we  sought 
the  higher  altitudes  and  reached  snow  ground 
at  8000  feet,  as  we  afterwards  were  told. 
There  was  little  vegetation  save  gnarled  and 
bare  trees,  which  seemed  to  have  little  to  sup- 
port them.  One  of  the  strange  sights  was 
greenery  and  little  flowers  all  about  the  snow 
regions  while  a  multitude  of  small  singing 
birds  appeared. 

We  left  the  American  River  mountains  with 
regret,  voting  the  district  the  best  hunting 
grounds  any  member  of  the  party  ever  invaded. 
We  expect  to  make  this  region  again  next 
season. 


420 


WESTERN  FIELD 


THE  TEMPLE 

I  WALKED   today   deep   in   a   quiet   wood 
Where  redwoods  seem  to  drink  the  heavenly  blue, 
And  laurel  leaves  perfume  the  morning  dew ; 
Where    tender    ferns    uncoil— the   habitude 
Of    hooded   jays,    who    break    its   quietude 
With  idle  talk  and  seem  a  motley  crew, 
O'cr-drcssed    in    royal    garb    of    brilliant    hue — ■ 
Where    life    dreams    on    in    holy    solitude. 

How    strange    my    feet    seemed    on   the   rustling    floor 
Made    soft    by    balmy    leaves!      The    towering    trees 
Were   holy   shrines   that   bid   me  to  adore 
God's    wondrous    life    and    all    its    mysteries. 
Here    life    is    pristine    as    in    days    of    yore — 
Here   dwells   the    Living   God   through   centuries. 

—Sam  Exton  Foulds. 


By  Harry  H.  Dunn 

Photos  by  Oscar  Bryn  and  the  Author 


HIS  is  not  the  story  of  how  I 
caught  an  albacore  or  got  a 
bronze  button  for  the  killing 
of  one  of  the  gamiest  fish  that 
swims  the  western  sea,  but  it 
is  the  tale  of  a  splendid  day  at 
sea,  of  hours  of  worthy  sport, 
and  of  the  final  victory  of  one 
who  battled  well  with  this 
fighter  of  the  sea  and  won 
honorably  the  trophy  he  carried  away. 
Such  a  fine  day  it  was  to  me,  so  full  of  in- 
terest and  of  incident  that  I  have  set  it 
down  because,  I  thought  there  might  be 
others  who  would  be  interested  in  seeing 
the  photographs,  at  least,  of  the  battle. 

The  place  was  Avalon,  on  the  magic  isle 
which  they  have  named  Catalina ;  the  time  was 
the  first  week  in  September,  and  the  fishing 
all  summer  for  the  two  principal  game  fishes — 
yellowtail  and  albacore — had  been  good.  We, 
Oscar  Bryn,  artist,  and  the  writer,  jack  of  all 
trades  in  the  writing  line,  had  every  reason  to 
hope  that  success  should  perch  on  our  mast 
when  we  came  in  off  the  deep  that  night. 

Rosy  dawn  lay  on  the  coast  peaks,  crowning 
with  crimson  the  fleecy  sea  of  fog  which  still 


hung  over  the  valley.  Around  the  crests  of 
the  hills  wreaths  of  mist  yet  bound  the  upper 
reaches  of  the  canons,  but  for  the  most  part 
the  day  was  well  born  into  a  world  of  gold 
and  amethyst  and  pearl  and  shell-pink.  The 
over-arching  heavens  looked  like  the  interior 
of  some  great  sea-shell,  some  giant  haliotis 
that  Time  had  cast  upon  the  shores  of  Eter- 
nity. 

The  hour  was  7:30  when  the  launch  drew 
up  to  the  little  wharf,  scarcely  more  than  a 
footboard  set  out  in  the  rim  of  the  biggest 
ocean  in  the  world.  Mr.  McKendrick  was 
the  captain's  name ;  before  the  day  was  over 
we  called  him  "Johnnie,"  and  better  boatman 
never  set  foot  in  launch  or  rowboat. 

Across  the  stern  of  the  boat  were  set  two 
chairs,  for  which  we  devoutly  returned  thanks 
ere  the  day  had  gone  far  toward  its  end ;  for 
he  who  tries  to  fight  a  twenty-pound  fish  with 
one'  leg  hanging  over  the  side  of  a  pitching 
launch  will  find  that  he  has  something  handed 
to  him  which  is  neither  sport,  pleasure  nor 
very  conveniently  planned  work. 

For  four  miles  we  beat  straight  out  to  sea, 
into  the  channel,  over  as  smooth  a  sea  as  ever 
washed  the  shores  of  Cyprus  or  the  Ind.     In 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


the  harbor  smelt  and  anchovies  had  been 
plentiful,  and  we  had  filled  the  bait  locker  with 
them  ;  here  not  a  fish  of  any  kind  or  size  was 
to  be  seen.  Evidently  the  big  fish  were  feeding 
off  shore  or  else  sulking  on  the  bottom. 

Putting  over  live  sardines  for  bait  we 
trolled.  Then  we  trolled  some  more ;  up  and 
down  the  coast  we  went  probably  three  or 
four  miles  on  each  side  of  our  beats,  and  not 
a  strike  was  there  for  either  one.  The  water 
was  like  glass  and  the  long  white  riffle  from 
the  launch's  screw  faded  away  into  the  sea 
like  the  cutwater  from  some  giant  tuna,  feed- 
ing on  the  lesser  fishes  of  the  channel. 

We  had  trolled  thus  twice  up  and  twice 
down,  when  Bryn  had  a  strike.  We  were 
fishing  off  the  stern,  he  to  the  right  and  I  to 
the  left  when  it  came.  The  silver-sided  sar- 
dines were  floating  almost  on  the  surface  of 
the  water,  so  slowly  was  the  launch  pushing 
herself  through  the  waves.  Suddenly  a  sharp, 
blue-nosed,  torpedo-shaped  body  hurled  itself 
at  the  lure,  seized  the  sardine,  so  close  to  the 
surface  of  the  sea  that  he  broke  the  crest  of 
a  tiny  wave  with  his  rush,  and  was  gone. 

Zeee-e-e-e-e-e-c  the  reel  sang,  the  staccato 
note  of  the  trout  brook  magnified  a  thousand 
times  and  woven  into  a  real  scream  of  war 
from  one  of  the  gamiest  fish  that  swims. 
There  was  no  question  of  what  my  companion 
had  hooked ;  nothing  but  one  of  these  pirates 
of  the  sea  could  ever  have  torn  away  with 
that  grip  on  the  line;  no  fish  of  these  waters — 
with  all  due  respect  to  the  yellowtail  and  the 
tuna  and  the  skipjack  and  all  the  rest  of  them 
— would  have  run  five  hundred  feet  in  his 
first  rush,  as  did  this  fellow,  without  a  break 
in  his  course. 

When  he  started,  Bryn  gave  him  the  brake 
a  bit  and  I  reeled  in  my  line  as  fast  as  pos- 
sible to  give  him  room  to  play  his  fish.  It 
was  evident  that  his  strike  was  something  un- 
usual either  in  size  or  in  gameness  and  at 
first  he  tried  the  rushing  but  securely  hooked 
fish  only  tentatively,  throwing  in  the  brake 
ever  so  lightly  lest  that  thin  thread  be  snapped, 
lest  that  slender  rod  go  by  the  board. 

One  hundred,  two  hundred  feet  went  out 
ere  one  could  count  the  seconds.  Then  the 
red  thread  that  marks  the  five  hundred  foot 
point  was  reached  with  a  suddenness  that 
caused  the  fisherman  to  set  his  leather  brake 
hard  on  the  running  spool.  The  reel  carried 
1000  feet  of  line,  even,  and  before  we  could 
put  the  launch  about  and  send  her  after  the 


flying  albacore  the  fish  had  torn  out  700  feet 
of  the  fine   thread  that  bound   him  to   Death. 


To  those  who  have  fished  for  albacore  or  for 
tuna,   or   even    for   yellowtail,    which   last   are 


422 


WESTERN  FIELD 


not  1'  >nn  distance  fighters,  this  may  seem 
strange,  almost  incredible,  for  the  alhacorc 
which  carries  200  yards  <>f  line  is  the  excep- 
tion, and  the  tuna  which  fights  at  this  distance 
is  by  no  means  the  rule. 

Rut  wait :  With  the  aid  of  the  launch  and 
good  handling  of  the  rod,  Bryn  gained  200 
feet  on  the  fish  and  then  he  went  down,  down, 
down,  and  there  he  tried  to  stay,  swinging 
out  in  great  circles  which  sometimes  seemed 
completely  to  encompass  the  boat,  yet  which 
always  brought  the  fighting  albacore  back, 
directly  beneath  the  angler,  half  a  thousand 
feet  below  him  and  with  his  nose  pointed 
still  deeper  in  the  sea. 

Then  came  the  fisherman's  hardest  work,  the 
gentle  act  of  pumping  a  fish  from  the  deeps 
of  blue  sea  below.  Down  went  the  tip  of  the 
rod,  till  it  almost  touched  the  water.  Then, 
with  might  and  main,  the  reel  held  firm,  it  was 
raised,  then  suddenly  lowered,  and  the  slack 
line  taken  up  by  the  willing  spool.  Possibly 
three  feet  of  line  were  gained  at  each  pump ; 
sometimes  not  even  an  inch  was  won  from  the 
wary  finned  fighter  down  there  out  of  sight, 
battling  to  keep  his  hold  on  life. 

In  the  course  of  twenty  minutes  another 
hundred  feet  of  line  came  in,  and  then  a  hun- 
dred more.  As  the  fish  came  nearer  to  the 
surface  he  seemed  to  fight  less  strongly ;  with 
one  heavy  lift  on  the  slender  rod  there  was  a 
giving  way  beneath  and  the  albacor0  rose 
almost  to  the  top  of  the  sea  with  a  rush  that 
left  the  line  lying  limp  and  threw  the  rod  out 
in  a  straight  line  as  if  it  were  glad  indeed  to 
be  freed  from  the  long  strain. 

And  with  the  rise  the  albacore  went  out, 
out,  out,  again,  until  he  had  won  back  far 
more  in  his  horizontal  run  than  he  had  ever 
taken  with  him  on  his  headlong  dive  into  the 
depths.  Five  hundred  feet  from  the  launch 
and  the  rod  and  the  man  at  the  butt  of  it  the 
fish  fought  a  good  fight.  Sometimes  he  took 
out  another  hundred  feet  or  so,  but  as  a  rule 
he  was  contented  to  fight  at  his  own  length  of 
line.  , 

For  a  half  circle  he  fought,  now  almost  on 
the  surface  of  the  water  but  never  breaking 
the  unruffled  blue;  now  down  ten,  fifteen, 
twenty-five  feet,  but  always  pulling,  always 
shaking  his  head,  ever  trying  some  new  trick 
to  dislodge  the  barb  in  his  mouth.  But  the 
lure  held,  the  line  neither  frayed  on  the 
guides  nor  raveled  at  the  swivel  as  lines  some- 
times  do,   and   at   last   his   lordship   came   in, 


fighting  every  inch  of  the  way,  showing  at 
times  the  mere  edge  of  his  dorsal,  if  such  it 
might  be  called,  as  he  ended  a  wide  rush  in  a 
straightaway  dash  from  the  boat. 

Slowly  Bryn  brought  him  alongside,  turned 
half  on  one  flank,  white  with  the  pearly  white- 
ness of  things  seen  beneath  the  sea ;  blue  with 
the  azure  hues  which  mark  the  royal  backs  of 
his  kind  the  world  over.  At  the  side  of  the 
boat,  with  a  last  flirt  of  his  powerful  tail, 
that  propeller  which  had  in  the  course  of  his 
life  driven  him  so  many  thousand  miles  and 
which  had  aided  him  so  staunchly  and  so  well 
in  the  battle  he  had  just  lost,  with  a  last 
splashing  blow  upon  the  sea,  he  turned  over, 
the  gaff  was  driven  into  his  gills,  and  the  end 
of  his  story  was  written. 

At  Avalon  he  weighed  twenty-five  pounds ; 
doubtless  when  he  was  taken  he  would  have 
tipped  the  beam  at  twenty-eight  pounds,  for 
he  lost  a  lot  of  blood  and  the  evaporation  of 
moisture  from  the  flesh  on  a  day  of  such  gen- 
eral heat  as  was  this,  would  have  accounted 
for  many  pounds. 

Altogether  the  battle  lasted  exactly  two 
hours  and  three  minutes,  pretty  close  to  the 
record  for  a  fish  of  this  species  and  size,  and 
both  the  fisherman  and  the  writer  can  testify 
that  the  battle  was  a  worthy  one,  hard  fought 
from  start  to  finish,  with  no  chance  of  rest 
for  either  victor  or  vanquished. 

The  fight  was  worth  while,  just  as  a  mem- 
ory to  carry  the  fisherman  through  the 
months  until  he  should  have  a  chance  to  wet 
his  line  again  in  the  salt  sea,  but  when  there 
was  the  further  reward  of  the  bronze  button 
which  the  club  gives  to  all  who  take  an  alba- 
core of  more  than  twenty  pounds  weight,  it 
was  the  final  feather  in  the  cap  of  the  success- 
ful angler. 

After  we  brought  Mr.  Bryn's  fish  into  the 
boat  we  gave  up  trolling,  for  none  of  the 
other  boats  lying  round  about  seemed  to  be 
doing  anything,  and  began  chumming.  Now 
chumming  is  one  of  the  gentlest  of  the  angler's 
arts.  If  he  has  the  right  thing  to  chum  with, 
and  finds  the  place  to  throw  it  where  fish  are 
wont  to  look  for.  food,  he  is  pretty  apt  to  make 
some  catches  that  will  make  rivals'  eyes  a 
shade  more  prominent. 

In  short,  chumming  is  the  throwing  out  of 
chopped  up  bait  on  the  surface  of  the  sea  in 
the  hope  of  attracting  fishes  to  come  and  feed. 
When  they  begin  to  gather  thickly,  he  puts 
over  his  hook,  baited  with  some  attractive  lure, 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


423 


and  generally  gets  more  fish  than  he  can 
carry  home  in  a  boat.  On  the  wharves,  chum- 
ming for  smelt  and  other  small  fish  of  inshore 
waters  is  usually  done  with  bran,  chopped  up 
lobster  or  tine  cuts  of  small  mackerel,  but  out 
here  in  the  open  sea,  fishing  for  we  know  not 
what  so  long  as  it  was  big  and  gamy  and 
full  of  fight,  we  threw  out  a  circle  of  whole 
sardines  for  twenty  feet  around  the  boat. 

Ten  minutes  before  we  had  been  trolling 
over  this  very  spot,  with  not  a  fish  in  sight 
save  the  one  Bryn  was  fighting.  Five  minutes 
after  we  threw  out  the  chum  all  the  way  from 
ten  to  thirty  albacore  were  playing  all  around 
the  boat.  They  would  come  up  almost  to  the 
surface  of  the  water,  seize  a  sardine  and  be 
gone  like  a  flash  of  blue  light  in  the  green  sea. 
Every  minute  or  two  one  of  these  big  mackerel 
would  stop  his  torpedo-like  rush  a  few  feet 
from  the  boat  and  give  us  a  fine  view  of  his 
round  body  as  he  slid  away  beneath  the  waves, 
not  in  the  least  frightened  by  the  launch  or  the 
close  proximity  of  human  beings,  whom  the 
fish  could  not  help  but  see. 

With  the  albacore  were  a  few  skipjacks, 
smaller  than  the  average  of  the  albacore,  and 
even  more  bold.  They  are  quicker  than  a 
flash  of  light,  these  skipjacks,  and  they  hit  bits 
of  fish  floating  on  the  sea  with  the  precision 
of  a  well-aimed  rifle  ball.  Death  rides  hard 
on  their  trail  when  they  hit  a  school  of  small 
fish,  and  when  they  strike  a  hook  there  is 
always  something  doing  for  the  man  on  the 
other  end  of  the  line. 

They  bite  harder  and  surer  than  the  alba- 
core, and  while  the  battle  is  on  they  fight  with 
a  fiercer  series  of  rushes,  though  they  do 
not  have  the  unpleasant  habit  of  sounding  to 
which  the  albacore  has  fallen  heir.  On  the 
surface  of  the  sea  they  are  clever,  tricky 
fighters,  well  versed  in  all  the  wiles  of  the 
game. 


The  skipjack  can  shake  a  hook  from  his 
mouth  better  than  any  other  fish  whose  ac- 
quaintance I  have  ever  made,  and,  though  1 
regret  to  report  that  I  have  never  seen  a 
skipjack  do  this,  I  believe  he  can  stand  on 
his  tail  and  do  a  double  flip-flop  to  help  him 
dislodge  the  barb.  When  skipjacks  or  albacore 
are  hungry,  there  is  little  on  the  earth,  in  the 
sea  or  in  the  heavens  at  which  they  will  not 
strike.  A  bone  jig,  if  new  and  white,  is  a 
good  lure,  but  a  piece  of  red  flannel  trailed  a 
bit  back  of  the  hook  is  just  as  good. 

We  could  have  been  catching  albacore  and 
skipjacks  there  around  that  patch  of  chum 
yet,  if  the  supply  of  fish  and  of  bait  had  held 
out.  As  it  was,  we  quit  when  we  had  two  or 
three  apiece,  and  as  all  of  these  were  smaller 
than  the  one  taken  by  Bryn  we  turned  them 
back  to  the  sea  ere  they  died  and  had  the 
satisfaction  of  seeing  them  swim  away,  ap- 
parently unharmed  by  their  little  trip  into  the 
outer  air. 

But  fishing  from  a  stationary  boat,  however 
plenty  the  fish  prove  to  be,  is  not  to  be  com- 
pared with  trolling,  just  as  trolling  from  a 
launch  is  not  to  be  mentioned  in  the  same 
breath  with  trolling  from  a  sailboat  going  down 
the  wind  with  every  sail  drawing  just  enough 
and  no  more.  We  soon  tired  of  the  chumming 
game,  and  leaving  a  swirl  of  blue-backed  fish 
around  the  rapidly  disappearing  scum  of  sar- 
dines which  we  had  cast  upon  the  surface  of 
the  sea,  we  flew  for  Avalon,  arrived  at  which 
place  we  weighed  and  recorded  the  fish  and 
were  quite  ready  for  dinner  and  the  soft 
sheets  of  the  bed. 

If  you  who  read  this  don't  think  fighting  a 
twenty-five  pound  albacore — which  is  a  minia- 
ture tuna — for  two  hours  is  hard  work,  just 
go  out  into  a  half  a  thousand  feet  of  water 
some  sunny  afternoon  and  try  the  job.  Before 
you  go  you  might  ask  Oscar  Bryn  about  it — 
he  knows,  he  did  it. 


WESTERN  FIELD 


THE  REDBIRD'S  MISSION 

A     RAGGED    network    darkly    traced 
**      Against    a    sullen,    dreary    sky. 
Where    barren    branches,    interlaced, 

Toss    restlessly,    tormented    by 
The    chilling    wind    that    boldly    sweeps 

Across    a    waste    of    tangled    sedge; 
Bare    hills    that    lift    their    rugged    steeps 

To    reach    the    vast    horizon's    edge. 

A    dull    gray    earth ;    a    turbid    stream 

Of    dull    gray    water    winding    through 
The    faded    meadows.      Not    one    gleam 

Of    warmer    color    cheers    the    view  ; 
Earth,    water,    sky — all    wrapt    in    gloom. 

As    Nature,    grieving    o'er    her    lack 
Of    pleasing    hues,    sits    at    her    loom 

And    sadly    weaves    the    gray    with    black. 

When    lo!    a    scarlet    thread    appears 

Within   the    fabric   *neath   her   hand; 
And    Nature,    smiling    through    her    tears, 

With    deftness    weaves    the    glowing    band. 
Now    here,    now    there    its    flashing    light 

Wrought    in    the    pattern    on    her    loom 
Makes    all    the    wintry    landscape    bright, 

And    gone    is    every   hint    of   gloom. 

—Marian  Phelps. 

OF  FISH  WE  CAUGHT 

T H ERE    comes    a    time    in    every    year 
'     When    certain    things    we    can    relate, 
Though     criticism    comes — severe  ! 
(This    privilege    is    man's    estate) 
So    in    a    manner    smooth,    sedate, 
We   hold    our   audience   at    bay 
And   tell,    in   terms    affectionate, 
Of   fish   we    caught — some   other   day. 

Of    course   to    truth    we   must    adhere, 

(Some    fishermen    exaggerate) 

That   may   be   why   some   people   sneer, 

Especially    about    the    weight; 

But    in    the    Winter,    'round    the    grate 

Our    fancy    has    some    right    to    stray; 

So    don't    be    jealous,    let    us    prate 

Of    fish    we    caught — some    other    day. 

This    fashion    bounds    the    hemisphere : 
No    neighborhood    you    penetrate 
But    what    these    stories    you    can    hear 
From    scholar    and    illiterate; 
The    great    point    is    the    kind    of    bait 
And,    lest    you    ignorance    betray, 
You'll    not    these   tales    investigate 
Of    fish    we    caught — some    other    day. 

ENVOY 
Prince,  I  don't  wish  to  domineer, 
But   when   the    Parson   starts   to   pray 
Just    stop    their   telling,    'round    my    bier 
Of   fish   they    caught — some   other   day. 

—Marion  N,  Baker. 


(f$> 

MY  FIRST  TIGER  HUNT 

4> 

By  Will  Frakes 


ELIS  ONCA,  the  Jaguar,  South 
American  Tiger,  or  "Old  Spots  ;" 
as  he  is  commonly  called  by  the 
hunters,  is  about  as  savage,  dan- 
gerous, and  ferocious  as  a 
grizzly  bear.  He  is  large  and 
powerful  enough  to  break  a 
cow's  neck  at  a  single  stroke 
with  one  of  his  great  paws,  a 
thing  he  has  often  been  known 
to  do.  The  Jaguar  is  certainly  the  king  of  all 
South  American  animals ;  and  to  overcome  and 
kill  this  monarch  of  the  jungles  is  the  highest 
ambition  of  most  hunters  that  go  to  that  wild, 
beautiful  region  to  hunt. 

Therefore,  when  I  arrived  in  South  America 
and  drifted  out  to  the  frontiers,  I  was  natur- 
ally like  all  the  rest;  I  wanted  to  kill  a  tiger. 
In  fact,  I  was  in  a  great  hurry  to  kill  one 
tiger  at  least.  But  wanting  to  kill  the  beast, 
and  killing  him,  are  two  vastly  different  things, 
as  I  found  out  by  many  years  of  experience 
and  hunting  after  that,  in  the  Gran  Chaco 
Forests  of  Northern  Argentine   Republic. 

In  the  first  place  a  tiger  is  not  always  so 
easy  to  find  when  you  want  to  kill  him;  and 
again,  it  is  no  child's  play  killing  him  after  he 
is  found.  For  "Old  Spots"  is  liable  to  make  it 
a  two-handed  game  at  any  instant  of  the  play, 
and  if  he  does  you  are  alrnost  certain  at  the 
time  to  wish  that  you  wasn't  there,  even  if 
you  get  away  with  the  fight  afterward. 

Of  course  the  novice  has  heard  all  this  many 
a  time,  but  he  never  takes  it  very  seriously  till 
some  day  he  runs  up  against  a  tiger  in  a 
jungle,  where  he  can  not  get  away  from  the 
animal,  and  has  to  stand  his  ground  and  fight. 
Still,  a  tiger  does  not  always  fight  when  you 
come  on  to  him.  In  fact  the  chances  are  about 
even  that  he  will  let  you  alone  if  you  do  not 
start  the  fight  yourself. 

But  there  are  some  tigers  that  will  charge 
on  a  man  the  instant  he  comes  within  sight  in 
close  quarters.  And  if  he  does,  no  matter  how 
courageous  you  may  be,  nor  how  good  a  shot, 


you  are  certainly  in  a  terribly  dangerous  posi- 
tion for  a  few  seconds.  For  if  you  miss  your 
aim,  or  only  wound  him,  it  will  be  a  miracle 
if  you  escape  with  your  life,  for  you  are  sure 
to  be  almost  literally  torn  to  pieces.  Yet 
these  tigers  are  not  man-eaters;  and  bad  and 
dangerous  as  they  are,  they  are  not  to  be 
compared  to  the  Bengal  tiger  of  India,  nor  to 
the  lion  of  Africa  for  danger. 

When  I  first  went  out  into  the  jungle  coun- 
try I  had  my  mind  made  up  to  massacre  the 
first  tiger  I  came  in  contact  with ;  and  I  also 
had  my  mind  made  up  to  come  in  contact 
with  the  first  tiger  I  could.  But  after  I  had 
been  out  there  awhile,  and  saw  a  man  carried 
in  who  had  been  killed  by  one,  for  some  cause 
or  other  my  mind  changed.  I  wanted  to  kill 
a  tiger  just  as  badly  as  ever  and  maybe  worse, 
but  not  bad  enough  to  go  very  far  into  a 
jungle  after -him. 

The  first  tiger  hunt  that  I  ever  took  I  went 
with  an  Englishman  by  the  name  of  Mr.  Wil- 
liam King,  a  famous  hunter  and  a  crack  shot. 
He  had  taken  in  many  a  tiger  in  his  day,  and 
said  he  knew  of  a  place  in  the  forests  where 
we  could  have  a  mix-up  with  one  of  the 
bloody  brutes  in  the  course  of  eight  or  ten 
days  at  most.  "For  sometimes  they're  bloody 
hard  to  find,  don't  you  know,  even  when 
there's  plenty  of  them." 

We  each  carried  a  rifle,  a  long-barreled  .44 
calibre  six-shooter  and  a  good  knife.  We  also 
took  plenty  of  ammunition,  for  there  were 
always  a  few  wild  Indians  roaming  around 
through  the  forest,  and  although  they  were  not 
particularly  bad  they  would  kill  a  man  if  they 
got  a  good  chance.  They  were  just  danger- 
ous enough  to  keep  one  forever  on  the  lookout, 
and  caused  a  great  deal  of  trouble  and  watch- 
fulness that  otherwise  would 'not  have  been 
necessary. 

We  took  provisions  to  last  a  week  or  so; 
and  went  out  about  three  leagues  from  the 
estancia  (a  cattle  farm)  and  camped  on  the 
banks  of  a  little  river  that  ran  through  part 


426 


WESTERN  FIELD 


of  the  ('.ran  ChaCO  Forests.  The  country 
was  literally  alive  with  doer  and  ostriches,  and 
many  Other  kinds  of  game.  We  also  saw 
quite  a  number  of  tiger  tracks  that  certainly 
had  been  made  within  the  last  two  days ;  for 
two  days  before  there  had  been  a  heavy  rain 
and  these  tracks  had  not  been  rained  in. 
King  said  it  was  a  good  place  to  hunt,  so  we 
camped  and  prepared  to  stay  there  for  a  few 
days  at  least. 

After  we  had  been  hunting  two  or  three 
days,  without  having  killed  any  tigers,  I  came, 
One  evening,  on  to  some  very  fresh  tiger  tracks 
leading  into  a  small  jungle.  I  circled  the 
jungle  and  saw  that  the  brute  had  not  come 
out ;  and  knew  to  a  certainty  that  he  was  in 
there,  and  at  no  great  distance  at  that.  Now 
I  did  something  that  I  never  heard  nor  read 
of  any  other  hunter  ever  doing  before.  You 
may  not  be  able  to  believe  it,  but  I  assure  you 
that  it  is  a  fact :  I  did  not  charge  into  that 
jungle,  and  tear  it  all  to  pieces,  and  shoot  the 
spots  all  off  the  tiger  as  I  had  intended  to  do, 
and  as  nearly  all  hunters  do — in  books. 

Instead,  I  peeped  around  very  cautiously, 
listening  to  try  if  I  could  hear  anything  in 
there;  and  finally  decided  that  the  jungle 
was  too  thick,  that  I  couldn't  get  into  it,  and 
went  to  camp.  I  never  fully  realized  till  then 
what  a  vast  difference  there  is  in  reading  and 
in  thinking  about  danger — and  actually  facing 
it.  I  can  assure  you,  boys,  that  when  you  come 
up  against  the  real  goods  you  will  find  the 
difference  is  far  greater  than  you  expected. 
I  was  not  afraid,  I  had  plenty  of  courage,  but 
some  way  it  didn't  seem  to  be  wound  up  quite 
tight  enough.  Courage  is  a  quality  that  fluc- 
tuates a  good  many  degrees  sometimes,  and  a 
tiger  is  about  the  worst  thing  I  ever  saw  to 
cause  a  sudden  fluctuation. 

I  said  nothing  to  King  about  my  little  ad- 
venture, but  casually  asked  him  what  he  would 
do  if  he  found  a  tiger  in  a  small  jungle. 

"Why,  I'd  go  in  there  and  shoot  the  bloody 
bones  out  of  him,"  said  he. 

This  made  me  feel  slightly  smaller  than  I 
was ;  still  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I'd  wait 
till  I  found  a  tiger  in  the  open,  before  I 
started  in  to  bloody  up  his  bones  too  much ; 
for  "Old  Spots"  is  rather  a  noted  bone- 
bloodier  himself,  and  I  didn't  care  to  have  my 
bones  mussed  up  by  him  if  I  could  help  it. 

Several  days  after  that  I  happened  to  pass 
by  that  same  jungle  again  and  concluded  to 
go   in  and  see  what  kind  of  a  place  it  was. 


The  place  did  not  look  quite  so  thick  to  me 
now  as  it  did  when  I  knew  that  the  tiger  was 
in  there.  For  I  felt  quite  sure  that  he  was  not 
in  there  then.  But  what  if  he  was!  was  I  not 
tiger  hunting? 

But  after  I  had  got  into  the  jungle  a  short 
distance  the  tiger  tracks  looked  very  fresh ; 
there  were  plenty  of  them ;  and  be  as  careful 
as  I  could,  I  could  not  get  along  through  the 
brush  and  high  grass  without  making  quite  a 
little  noise.  Any  animal  that  might  be  in 
there  could  certainly  hear  me,  and  would 
thereby  have  a  decided  advantage  if  it  wanted 
to  attack  me.  The  case  looked  pretty  serious, 
still  I  did  not  like  the  idea  of  being  bluffed 
out  just  by  the  tiger's  track;  so  I  decided  to 
see  a  little  more  of  it.  But  I  had  quite  a 
scuffle  with  my  courage  before  I  could  get 
enough  of  it  gathered  up  .to  take  me  any 
farther  in.  And  then  it  was  so  elusive  that  I 
didn't  make  much  headway. 

Courage  seems  to  me  to  be  something  like 
this :  It  begins  at  one  notch  and  goes  up  to 
100,  that  being  the  top.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, mine  stopped  before  it  got  up  that  high  ! 
My  courage  stands  very  nicely  at  about  27. 
Now,  27  is  all  right  for  rabbits  and  ducks,  in 
fact  all  small  game ;  but  it  will  never  do  for 
tigers  and  wild  Indians.  A  man  has  to  have 
his  courage  wound  up  to  about  98  before  he 
can  go  into  a  jungle  where  he  knows  there  is 
a  live  tiger ;  and  then  he  wants  to  have  his 
hand  on  the  crank,  ready  to  give  about  two 
more  turns  right  quick  when  the  tiger  shows 
up,   or   he   can't   stand. 

Well,  after  considerable  trouble  I  managed 
to  get  mine  up  to  about  41,  and  went  very 
cautiously  into  the  jungle  a  little  farther.  I 
was  peeping  around,  undecided  whether  to  go 
any  farther  in  or  'not,  when  all  at  once  I 
thought  I  heard  a  sound.  I  stopped  instantly', 
held  my  breath,  and  listened  attentively.  In 
a  moment  or  two  I  heard  the  sound  again, 
there  was  no  mistake  about  it  this'  time;  it 
sounded  like  a  low,  coarse  growl. 

My  courage  instantly  slipped  off  the  notch, 
and  ran  clear  down  below  one  before  you  could 
say  scat.  The  sound  was  repeated,  and  I  got 
out  of  there.  But  my  gun,  hat,  most  of  my 
clothing,  and  some  hide  and  hair,  was  in  there. 
But  no  blood ;  it  hadn't  had  time  to  run  yet ; 
for  I  had  made  it  through  about  one  hun- 
dred yards  of  "cat-claw"  brush  in  something 
less  than  thirteen  seconds  ! 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


427 


At  the  outer  edge  of  the  jungle  I  halted  for 
a  moment  to  get  my  breath,  and  that  deep, 
savage  growl  was  repeated  once  more,  "nearer, 
clearer,  deadlier  than  before."  Parajyzed  with 
fear  I  looked  behind  me,  and  saw —  a  tiger  the 
size  of  an  elephant  ?  No !  I  saw  an  old  locust 
tangled  up  in  a  big  spider's  web,  and  buzzing 
away  for  dear  life. 

This  made  me  furious.  I  wanted  to  fight.  I 
looked  at  my  hands ;  they  were  all  scratched 
up.  My  breeches  were  in  tatters,  and  my 
pretty  blue  shirt,  with  white  and  red  specks  on 
it,  was  entirely  ruined.  I  grabbed  a  club  and 
smashed  that  infernal  locust  to  a  jelly.  I 
would  have  smashed  the  spider,  too,  but  I 
couldn't  see  him.  I  also  made  a  few  remarks 
that  I  happened  to  think  of  about  that  time, 
and  then  started  back  into  the  jungle  as 
fast  as  I  could  walk,  to  get  my  hat  and  gun. 
I   didn't  care   whether   I   met  a   tiger  or  not. 


But  after  I  got  in  quite  a  ways,  I  thought 
maybe  it  would  be  a  good  idea  to  slow  down  a 
little,  for  it  was  such  a  nice  place  for  a  tiger 
that  there  might  be  one  in  there  after  all. 

Well,  T  got  my  hat  and  gun,  washed  the 
blood  off  my  hands  and  face,  and  went  to 
camp. 

"Why  how  in  the  world  did  you  get 
scratched  up  so?"  asked  King. 

"In  the  brush,  of  course,"  said  I — and  I  said 
it  real  cross,  too,  so  he  wouldn't  ask  any  more 

about  it. 

*       *       * 

Thus  ended  my  first  tiger  hunt.  Now,  I 
never  heard  before,  nor  read  of  a  hunt  that 
turned  out  quite  like  this;  but  from  strong 
circumstantial  evidence,  and  many  years'  ex- 
perience in  the  jungles  of  South  America,  I 
have  just  a  vague  suspicion  that  they  occasion- 
ally do. 


ENGLISH   SPORT 


Bv  R.  Clapham 


PART  VI--RABBITS,    AND  the   Rook-Rii 


LTHOUGH  the  above  title  may 
lead  the  reader  to  imagine 
that  I  am  departing  from  the 
more  exciting  and  popular 
forms  of  shooting  in  these 
articles,  yet  I  can  assure  him 
that  a  day  or  two's  rabbit 
shooting  with  a  small-bore 
rifle  is  an  amusement  not  to 
be  scoffed  at,  besides  teaching 
the  embryo  sportsman  many  little  tricks 
which  will  be  useful  to  him  in  after  years, 
when  the  humble  covey  has  given  place  to 
the  Scottish  red-deer,  or  the  big-game  of 
foreign  countries. 

In  the  spring  and  early  summer  months, 
sport, -at  least  with  the  gun,  is  at  a  stand- 
still ;  and  with  the  exception  of  otter  hunt- 
ing and  fishing  the  sportsman  has  much 
time  on  his  hands  which  can  be  pleasantly 
occupied  by  strolling  round  the  coverts  or 
rocky  pastures  with  a  rifle,  in  search  of 
outlying  rabbits. 

On  nearly  every  English  estate  rabbits 
are  plentiful,  especially  where  the  ground 
is  at  all  suitable.  In  the  southern  counties 
these  animals  burrow  in  the  coverts  and 
over  the  low-lying  land,  and  in  the  north  of 
England  they  literally  swarm  amongst  the 
rough  upland  pastures,  and  rocky  slopes, 
where  the  coarse  grass  and  general  sur- 
roundings form  an  ideal  habitat. 

For  miles  around  my  own  home  in  West 
Yorkshire  the  rabbits  swarm  in  thousands, 
the  land  being  hilly  and  rock  covered,  with 
the  purple  grouse  moors  stretching  away 
above,  into  the  hazy  distance.  Using  the 
shotgun  and  three  or  four  ferrets,  great 
sport  can  be  had  amongst  the  limestone 
cliffs  and  rocks,  where  each  hole  and  corner 
hides  a  rabbit  and  the  shooting  is  all  in  the 
open.  The  coverts  also  are  full  of  rabbits, 
and  the  great  difficulty  everywhere  is  to 
keep  down  their  numbers.  At  one  time 
much   of  the   higher   ground   held  its   quota 


of  hares,  but  in  late  years  these  have  de- 
parted to  lower  ground,  owing  to  the  depre- 
dations of  poachers  who  work  at  a  large 
rock  quarry  in  the  neighborhood,  and  also 
on  account  of  the  increase  in  the  rabbit 
stock.  As  red-deer  hate  to  feed  on  ground 
once  soiled  by  sheep,  so  do  the  hares  object 
to  rabbit-stained  ground,  and  though  the 
high  land  holds  enough  hares  to  give  good 
sport  to  a  pack  of  beagles,  the  stock  is  not 
enough   to  depend  on  for  shooting. 

Most  of  our  rabbit-shooting  on  a  large 
scale  is  done  in  the  autumn  and  winter 
months,  when  the  rabbits  are  in  the  best 
condition;  but  in  the  spring  and  early  sum- 
mer, much  sport  can  be  had  with  a  small- 
bore rifle.  When  using  a  shotgun  I  have 
had  excellent  sport  with  a  spaniel  or  a  fox- 
terrier  as  companion,  and  where  rabbits 
are  plentiful  in  the  woods,  with  good  piles 
of  underbrush  for  them  to  lie  in,  the  terrier 
or  spaniel  will  turn  them  out  as  fast  as  one 
cares  to  shoot.  Walking  the  rough,  tus- 
socky  pasture  fields  is  also  productive  of 
good  fun,  for  the  little  brown  beasts  lie 
out  in  fine  weather,  making  their  "seats" 
among  the  longer  grass,  and  they  can  be 
put  up,  and  offer  good,  open  shooting. 
When  beating  the  covers  in  the  regular 
way  for  pheasants  and  other  game,  many 
rabbits  find  their  way  into  the  bag,  being 
shot  as  they  dart  across  the  "rides"  or 
open  places  where  the  guns  are  stationed. 

A  terrier  becomes  very  cute  at  rabbit- 
hunting  in  cover,  and  the  tricks  a  good  dog 
will  resort  to  are  often  very  amusing.  I 
shot  over  a  cunning  old  customer  of  this 
kind  for  many  years,  and  he  was  as  good  a 
dog  at  rabbiting  as  one  need  wish  for.  He 
would  always  dive  into  a  brush  pile  so  as 
to  put  out  the  rabbit  on  my  side  of  it,  and 
Deing  extremely  quick  on  his  legs,  and  very 
fast,  many  rabbits  were  nailed  by  him  be- 
fore they  had  time  to  get  fairly  away.  He 
was    a    first-rate    retriever,    and    for    killing 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


water-rats,  cats,  etc.,  as  well  as  going  to 
ground  after  foxes,  a  better  dog  never  lived. 
It  takes  a  hard-bitten  terrier  to  kill  some 
of  the  big  poaching  house-cats  which  grow 
almost  to  the  size  of  the  genuine  wild-cat, 
but  Spot  never  flinched  in  such  encounters. 
-These  poaching  cats  are  a  serious  menace 
to  both  ground-game  and  game  birds,  and 
should  be  destroyed  at  every  opportunity. 

I  remember  one  morning,  when  sitting  at 
breakfast,  one  of  these  poaching  brutes 
crossed  the  garden  en  route  for  the  wood 
above.  Spot  was  lying  on  the  hearth-rug  in 
front  of  the  fire,  so  I  tucked  him  under  my 
arm  and  slid  quietly  out  on  the  poacher's 
trail.  I  went  but  a  few  yards  into  the  wood 
before  I  saw  the  cat  slowly  walking  down 
a  long  straight  path,  quite  unconscious  of 
our  presence.  The  path  was  thickly  grass 
covered,  so  I  put  Spot  down,  pointed  out 
the  quarry  and  off  he  darted. 

The  little  dog  got  fairly  into  his  stride 
and  simply  flew  over  the  ground,  the  grass 
deadening  his  footsteps.  When  within  a 
yard  of  his  quarry  the  cat  saw  him,  but  too 
late,  however,  for  the  dog  ran  into  him  and 
turned  a  complete  somersault,  the  two  of 
them  mixed  in  a  heap.  I  nearly  choked 
with  laughter,  but  before  I  could  get  up  the 
cat's  back  was  broken  and  Spot  was  shak- 
ing it  like  a  wet  rag. 

Rabbits  bolt  better  before  a  ferret  in  the 
morning,  and  as  a  rule  the  afternoon  sport 
is  not  so  good.  A  windy  day  is  better  than 
a  still  one,  and  great  care  should  be  taken 
when  approaching  any  holes  to  walk  as 
quietly  as  possible,  for  the  ground  is  a 
good  conductor  of  sound,  and  the  vibra- 
tions of  footsteps  will  warn  all  rabbits 
underground  that  an  enemy  is  awaiting 
them   should  they  bolt  into  the  open. 

When  ferreting,  it  is  not  unusual  to  have 
a  ferret  "lie  up"  in  a  burrow,  especially  if 
young  rabbits  happen  to  be  in  it  during 
the  early  season  or  when  a  rabbit  gets  into 
a  cul-de-sac  and  refuses  to  bolt.  The  ferret 
then  often  kills  the  stubborn  bunny,  and 
after  feeding  on  it  quietly  goes  to  sleep  in 
the  hole.  Of  course,  when  using  three  or 
four  ferrets  a  man  can  be  left  to  look  out 
for  the  recalcitrant  and  bring  him  on  later, 
thus  not  retarding  sport  for  the  rest  of  the 
day.  White  ferrets  are,  I  think,  the  best 
to  use,  being  more  docile  and  tractable 
than    their    cross-bred    fellows,    which    are 


The  Author  and  his  dog  "Spot" 
(A  first-class  rabbit  dog) 


Rabbiting  on  the  Scars  of  West  Yorkshire 


His  First  Rabbit 


430 


WESTERN  FIELD 


called  the  "polecat"  variety.  The  latter  are 
a  cross  between  the  ordinary  ferret  and 
the  true  British  polecat,  and  arc  usually  a 
grizzly  brown  in  color,  and  larger  in  body 
than  the  white  variety. 

When  ferreting  rabbits  for  the  market, 
or  to  import  for  breeding  purposes,  it  is 
best  to  use  purse-nets,  or  square-nets  over 
the  holes,  so  as  to  capture  the  rabbits  in 
good  condition,  when  they  may  be  kept 
alive  to  improve  the  breed  in  other  places, 
or  quickly  killed  without  spoiling  them  with 
shot. 

An  old  man  in  the  village,  quite  a  char- 
acter in  his  way,  was  a  devotee  of  this  kind 
of  sport,  always  using  nets,  and  when  we 
slyly  uncovered  a  hole,  and  shot  a  bolting 
rabbit,  his  language  was  certainly  quaint 
and  to  the  point.  The  old  fellow  had  the 
run  of  our  home  coverts,  and  would  often 
come  up  for  a  day's  ferreting,  taking  a 
couple  home  for  his  own  use. 

I  have  wandered  away,  however,  from  the 
title  of  this  article,  and  must  hark  back'  to 
sport  with  the  rifle  in  the  early  part  of  the 
season. 

During  the  summer  months  hundreds  of 
rabbits  may  be  seen  sitting  out  in  the  fields 
surrounding  the  coverts,  or  among  the 
rocks  and  screes  of  the  uplands.  After  a 
rainy  day  in  June  or  July  the  rabbits  sit 
out  in  great  numbers  towards  the  evening, 
when  the  little  rifle  can  be  used  to  great 
advantage.  You  must  know  the  ground 
well,  and  approach  your  quarry  from  a 
point  which  enables  you  to  have  a  back- 
ground for  your  bullet  in  case  of  a  miss. 
When  shooting  at  rabbits  in  old  sand-pits, 
or  among  rocks  at  the  foot  of  a  cliff  or 
steep  hill,  any  amount  of  safe  practice  may 
be  had. 

Much   skill  is   necessary  in  the  approach 


to  your  game,  the  direction  of  the  wind  and 
the  lay  of  the  ground  both  have  to  be  con- 
sidered. When  you  have  made  a  success- 
ful stalk,  and  dropped  your  rabbit  with 
scarce  a  kick  at  sixty  yards  distance,  you 
feel  a  satisfaction  over  the  shot  closely 
akin  to  that  when  bigger  game  is  slain, 
with  a  more  powerful  weapon.  It  is  far 
from  as  easy  as  it  sounds  to  thus  pick  off 
such'  game,  for  a  rabbit,  at  anything  over 
fifty  yards,  in  the  grass,  is  but  a  very  tiny 
mark.  A  straight  eye  and  a  steady  hand 
are  essential  to  even  this  form  of  sport,  but 
an  evening's  walk  may  be  enlivened  by  the 
chance  of  a  dozen  or  more  shots  as  above 
described. 

Although  the  rabbit  is  a  destructive  little 
beast,  especially  to  trees,  the  bark  and 
lower  limbs  of  which  he  will  gnaw  off, 
he  is  yet  capable  of  affording  considerable 
amusement  to  the  sportsman,  especially  if 
he  is  confined  to  such  districts  where  he 
can  do  the  least  harm.  This  little  beast 
forms  the  food  of  foxes  and  other  vermin, 
which,  if  it  were  not  for  him,  would  prey 
on  other,  and  more  valuable  game,  so  he 
acts  as  a  buffer  between  such  destructive 
forces  and  game  of  more  worth  than  him- 
self. 

Most  shootings  are  the  best  where  a  fair 
sprinkling  of  rabbits  are  allowed  to  mix 
with  the  other  game  which  is  found  on  the 
land.  To  shoot  rabbits  neatly  in  covert  is 
one  of  the  best  tests  of  marksmanship  I  can 
think  of.  It  is  snap-shooting — either  a  clean 
kill  or  a  miss.  With  constant  practice  some 
men  are  adepts  at  this  form  of  sport.  Shoot 
as  soon  as  your  eye  catches  sight  of  the 
game,  and  never  wait  for  a  better  chance  or 
more  open  shot.  Enormous  bags  of  rab- 
bits have  been  made  in  a  day  in  warrens 
by  turning  them  out  of  their  holes. 


ONE  WET  JANUARY  DAY 


By  Edward  C.  Crossman 


PULLED  the  trigger  and  the 
grouse,  a  full  hundred  and  fifty 
yards  away,  doubled  up  and  fell 
to  earth.  What  a  beauty  that 
new  ejector  sixteen  was !  Be- 
fore I  could  pick  up  the  grouse 
a  heavy  hand  fell  on  my  shoul- 
der and  a  voice  said : 

"Get  up,  it's  four  o'clock.'     It 
will    be    light    in    an    hour    and 
the  ducks  are  flying." 

Another  shake  and  I  rose  up  for  an  instant 
and  gazed  sleepily  at  the  disturber  of  my 
slumbers.  I  sank  down  again  into  the  soft 
embrace  of  that  blessed  bed  and  a  thousand 
soft  feathery  fingers  clung  to  me  while  the 
voice  of  Sleep  whispered  in  my  ears : 

"Don't  go,  what's  the  use?  It  is  dark  and 
cold  outside  and  the  wind  is  blowing  a  gale. 
You  will  get  all  cold  and  wet  and  benumbed, 
all  for  a  few  ducks.    Stay  here  and  sleep." 

"Bill,"  roared  the  voice  of  the  disturber, 
"the  mallards  are  coming  in  and  if  you  don't 
hurry  we  won't  get  dowri  to  the  slough  by 
daylight.  Get  up  and  try  out  that  new  gun 
you're  so  proud  of." 

The  vision  of  the  lines  of  hurrying  ducks 
with  their  whistling  wings,  and  of  the  new 
gun  in  its  case  by  the  bed  just  begging  to  be 
taken  out  and  shot,  flamed  through  my  sleepy 
brain  like  a  flash  of  lightning  through  the 
murk  of  a  cloudy  night.  The  soft  fingers 
lost  their  power,  the  whispers  of  Sleep  fell  on 
unheeding  ears  and  I  leaped  from  my  couch 
and  into  my  hunting  clothes  in  a  jiffy. 

Downstairs  in  the  comfortable  kitchen  of 
the  farmhouse  my  host  had  a  great  fire  burn- 


ing and  the  delicious  odor  of  coffee  came  to 
my  pleased  nostrils.  I  suddenly  became  aware 
of  the  possession  of  an  empty  and  ambitious 
stomach  clamoring  for  work.  A  cold  January 
wind  was  whistling  around  the  house,  making 
the  fire  roar  and  ever  and  anon  throwing  a 
dash  of  rain  against  the  windows  with  swish- 
ing rattle  as  a  sample  of  what  we  might  ex- 
pect outside. 

"Fine  morning,"  called  my  friends  with  a 
smile. 

While  my  host  fried  the  spluttering  ham 
and  attended  to  other  details  of  the  breakfast, 
I  took  my  gun  out  of  its  new  case  and  slid 
the  slim  blue  barrels  into  their  place.  Was 
there  ever  a  sound  more  musical  to  the  sports- 
man's ear  than  the  clink  of  the  barrels  of  that 
trusted  gun  as  he  puts  it  together  in  prepara- 
tion for  the  day's  hunt !  At  the  sound,  the  two 
magnificent  Chesapeake  Bay  retrievers  dozing 
by  the  fire  with  occasional  gentle  thumps  of 
their  bushy  tails,  leaped  up  with  whines  of 
ecstacy,  and  rubbing  against  me,  assured  me 
with  the  gleam  of  their  brown  eyes  and  with 
many  contortions  of  their  bodies  that  they 
were  more  than  ready  to  bring  back  the 
ducks  that  might  fall  before  that  gun.  Hand- 
some fellows !  No  need  to  explain  to  them 
what  all  this  early  morning  bustle  and  prepara- 
tion meant. 

Twenty  minutes  later,  with  a  generous 
breakfast  stowed  away,  myself,  host  and  the 
two  dogs  embarked  in  a  trim  built  skiff  at  the 
landing,  a  hundred  yards  from  the  house,  and 
set  off  for  the  slough,  three  miles  below. 

My  friend  took  the  oars  and  the  boat  went 
shooting   down   the   river   while    I    sat   in   the 


432 


WESTERN  FIELD 


stern  with  the  dogs  on  either  side.  I  watching 
for  signs  of  the  flying  quackers  and  the  dogs 
gravely  estimating  how  many  plunges  into 
their  loved  element  the  morning  would  bring 
them  The  morning  was  cold,  with  a 
tion  of  snow,  and  the  gale  whistled  and  roared 
through  the  trees  that  lined  the  river,  tearing 
off  the  few  remaining  leaves  from  their 
branches  and  sending  a  never-ending  proces- 
sion of  whitecaps  slapping  against  the  sides 
of  our  skill'. 

Away  over  to  the  East  a  gleam  showed  the 
approach  of  the  day,  but  along  the  river  the 
grey  shroud  of  the  fading  night  prevented  us 
from  seeing  anything  except  the  outline  of 
the  giant  trees  along  the  bank  with  their 
tossing  branches. 

Some  three  miles  below  our  starting  point 
a  slough  or  bayou  of  still  water  opened  up 
ami  we  suddenly  shot  from  the  troubled 
w-aters  of  the  river  into  the  calm  of  this  little 
harbor.  The  light  was  getting  brighter  and 
objects  along  the  bank  began  to  take  form  in 
the  gray  obscurity. 

"We'll  have  to  hurry  up  and  get  our  decoys 
out  or  we  will  miss  the  first  flights,"  said  my 
friend,  and  taking  the  extra  pair  of  oars  I 
kin  my  back  to  the  task  of  driving  the  boat 
through  the  quiet  waters  of  the  slough.  In  a 
short  distance  the  slough  widened  out  into  a 
marsh,  full  of  rushes  and  interspersed  here 
and  there  with  patches  of  open  water.  Wind- 
ing among  these  clumps  of  reeds  we  finally 
arrived  at  a  pond  of  open  water  almost  com- 
pletely surrounded  by  the  tall  rushes.  Hur- 
riedly setting  out  our  decoys,  we  pushed  the 
boat  into  a  clump  of  the  rushes,  hiding  us 
from  the  view  of  the  birds  but  giving  us  a 
good  view  of  the  pond  with  its  two  hundred 
feet  of  length. 

To  the  south  we  could  see  the  long  lines  of 
ducks  streaming  in  from  the  direction  of  the 
river,  and  from  somewhere  above  us  in  the 
grey  sky  came  the  small  eerie  honk,  honk  of 
the  wild  goose,  already  on  the  wing  for  the 
warmer  Southland.  Suddenly  my  friend 
touched  my  arm  and  pointed.  Over  toward 
the  river  I  saw  a  small  bunch  of  ducks,  com- 
ing directly  for  us  with  the  speed  of  an  ex- 
press train.  They  were  about  four  hundred 
yards  away  and  I  gripped  my  gun  and 
crouched,  waiting  for  the  time  to  cut  loose. 
They  headed  directly  for  our  pond  and  I 
raised  my  gun  a  little,  ready  to  fire. 


"Wait."  said  my  friend,  gripping  my  arm 
softly. 

The  little  flock,  twenty  or  so  fat  mallards, 
whizzed  over  our  pond  with  no  check  of 
speed,  passing  about  fifty  yards  away  and  not 
a  dozen  feet  above  the  tops  of  the  rushes. 

"Wait,"  again  cautioned  my  friend  and  I, 
accustomed  to  the  shoot-on-sight  game  of  the 
upland  birds,  quail  and  prairie  chicken,  waited 
with  but  poor  grace. 

The  leader  caught  sight  of  our  decoys,  hesi- 
tated, then  turning  on  graceful  wing,  the  whole 
flock  came  circling  back  towards  us.  They 
came  in  with  soft  hiss  of  wings,  and  checked 
speed  just  a  little  preparatory  to  alighting 
with  that  "souse"  of  the  big  duck  as  he  takes 
to  the  water. 

"Now !"  snapped  my  friend,  in  the  tone  of 
voice  that  old  Hull  must  have  used  when  he 
gave  the  word  to  the  eager  crew  of  the  Con- 
stitution to  pour  their  fire  into  the  smoke- 
clouded  Guerriere  alongside.  Crack  snapped 
the  smokeless  in  my  little  sixteen.  Boom 
roared  the  ten-gauge  powder  cannon  alongside 
me  and  the  resulting  cloud  of  blue  smoke 
from  the  black  powder  rode  off  on  the  wings 
of  the  gale.  The  foremost  mallard  folded  his 
wings  and  hit  the  water  with  a  hearty  splash 
while  back  in  the  thick  of  the  flock  another 
obeyed  the  summons  of  the  ten  gauge  and 
took  the  water,  with  no  further  interest  in 
things  mundane.  As  the  ducks  swiftly  flared 
and  climbed  skyward,  the  little  sixteen 
claimed  another  victim,  while  with  the  boom 
of  the  ten  gauge  a  mallard  with  broken  wing 
half  fell,  half  sailed  down  to  the  rushes  along 
our  little  pond. 

"Fine  work.  Bill,"  howled  the  other  fellow, 
with  a  hearty  slap  on  the  back  that  I  could 
very  well  have  spared,  "and  with  a  little  pop- 
gun at  that." 

"All  right,  Rex,"  he  said  to  the  younger 
dog,  crouched  with  tensed  muscles  and 
quivering  bod}',  waiting  for  the  word.  There 
was  a  splash  and  the  dog  was  forging  through 
the  water  like  a  little  brown  steamboat  after 
the  ducks  floating  out  in  the  pond  and  fast 
drifting  away  under  the  impulse  of  the  gale. 

"Wow,  wow !"  complained  the  older  dog, 
fidgeting  about  and  looking  up  in  his  master's 
face  with  surprise  as  the  younger  dog  was 
given  the  first  permission  to  go.  "Get  that 
cripple,  Jack,"  said  Jim,  pointing  over  in  the 
reeds  where  the  crippled  duck  had  disappeared. 
Standing  not  upon  the  order  of  his  going  and 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


433 


nearly  capsizing  the  boat  in  his  haste,  Jack 
half  swam,  half  ran  through  the  shallow 
water  and  disappeared  in  the  reeds. 
"He'll  never  get  that  duck,  Jim,"  said  I. 
"You  wait  and  see,"  retorted  Jim,  "he  had 
that  duck  spotted  before  he  hit  the  water  and 
.  the  duck  will  have  to  be  smarter  than  any  I 
have  yet  seen  to  get  away." 

Rex  came  swimming  back  with  two  of  the 
ducks,  casting  anxious  glances  the  while  back 
over  his  shoulder  to  where  the  third  duck 
still  floated.  Jim  reached  down  and  took  the 
two  ducks  and  the  plucky  brown  fellow 
turned  around  and  went  after  the  third  mal- 
lard. 

"You  fine  fellow !"  said  I,  giving  him  a  hug 
on  his  return  into  the  boat  and  he  looked  at 
me  rather  sheepishly.  Being  young,  he  was 
unused  to  the  praise  that  the  older  dogi  ex- 
pected and  appreciated,  and  carefully  sitting 
down  on  my  dry  seat  to  drain,  he  %vagged  his 
tail  and  looked  for  more  worlds  in  the  shape 
of  mallard  ducks  to  conquer. 

The  guns  hardly  reloaded  and  the  ducks 
stowed  away,  another  bunch  appeared  heading 
for  us  and  we  crouched  down.  They  repeated 
the  performance  of  their  predecessors,  the 
mallards,  but  just  as  they  turned  and  came 
over  our  decoys,  Jack,  with  the  cripple  in  his 
mouth  and  a  grin  of  satisfaction  a  foot  wide 
on  his  mobile  countenance,  burst  out  of  the 
reeds  with  a  splatter  and  headed  for  the  boat. 
At  the  sight  of  the  dog  the  ducks — red  heads, 
by  the  way — flared  like  lightning  and  were 
climbing  like  so  many  sky  rockets  before  we 
realized  the  trouble.  We  played  at  long  bowls 
with  the  red  heads  as  they  went  shooting  into 
the  grey  sky  and  the  little  sixteen  and  the  ten 
each  took  a  duck  out  of  the  flock.  As  my 
bird  turned  over  and  started  down  in  response 
to  the  sharp  invitation  of  the  sixteen,  my 
friend  Jim,  turned  and  looked  at  the  little  gun 
with  amazement. 

"What  kind  of  an  all-fired  gun  is  that,  any- 
how ?  I  was  lucky  to  get  one  of  those  fel- 
lows with  the  ten,  and  I  thought  you  might 
just  as  well  throw  your  hat  at  the  ducks  as 
shoot  at  them  at  fifty  yards  with  that  toy," 
and  he  looked  at  it  hard,  as  though  he  ex- 
pected to  find  some  sort  of  unsportsmanlike 
contrivance  concealed  in  the  blue  barrels.  I 
merely  grinned.  We  had  argued  the  question 
the  night  before  and  I  simply  waited  to  let 
the  gun  speak  for  itself  in  more  senses  than 
one. 


Jack  delivered  his  cripple,  still  struggling, 
and  then  turned  to  race  with  his  younger 
companion  for  the  two  red  heads  out  in  the 
pond.  The  dogs  returned  with  their  prizes 
and  we  assisted  them,  dripping  and  wet,  into 
the  boat.  This  is  the  drawback  of  using  re- 
trievers, the  four  or  five  gallons  of  water  that 
they  invariably  bring  back  into  the  boat. 

"What  did  you  say  about  not  getting  that 
cripple?"  inquired  Jim,  patting  the  Chesa- 
peake affectionately. 

Every  now  and  then  the  sun  peeped  out 
through  some  wind-torn  rift  in  the  grey  veil 
above  us,  lighting  up  the  vast  marsh  and 
showing  the  great  flights  of  ducks  wending 
their  way  from  the  marshes  along  the  river  to 
the  grain  fields  lying  to  the  west.  A  flock  of 
sprigs  came  shooting  along  high  above  us, 
their  colors  showing  plainly  in  the  temporary 
gleam  of  the  sun.  Arriving  over  us  our 
decoys  attracted  their  attention,  and  very  un- 
spriglike  they  came  shooting  down  like  hawks 
after  a  chicken,  no  flying  around  in  circles  for 
them.  Their  very  carelessness  and  precipita- 
tion saved  their  bacon.  My  bird  dropped 
below  my  fire  before  I  realized  how  fast  they 
were  dropping  and  I  missed  him  cleanly.  The 
ten-gauge  spouted  its  cloud  of  smoke,  and  the 
breeze  dropping  for  a  moment  the  smoke 
shrouded  the  water  and  cut  off  our  view. 
When  it  blew  aside  one  of  the  sprigs  was  down 
in  the  water  but  the  rest  of  the  flock  were  so 
far  away  they  looked  like  specks. 

I  was  disgusted.  "Why  in  Sam  Hill  don*t 
you  throw  that  cannon  away  or  shoot  smoke- 
less powder?"  I  inquired,  rather  crossly. 

"Well,  whenever  you  can  show  me  a  gun 
that  will  do  the  work  of  this  old  gui.,  then  I'll 
make  a  trade,"  retorted  my  friend,  patting  the 
clumsy  old  hammer  cannon  as  though  he  had 
something  to  be  proud  of. 

I  didn't  like  to  do  it  but  here  was  a  man 
who  needed  some  enlightenment.  So  I  said : 
"You  take  my  gun  for  a  while,  don't  lead 
them  quite  so  much,  and  if  you  don't  get  just 
as  many  with  less  recoil  and  less  discomfort  to 
yourself  then  I'll  say  nothing  more  about 
guns." 

He  handed  over  the  ten-gauge  with  a  grin 
and  took  my  little  twenty-six-inch  sixteen. 
The  significance  of  the  grin  came  to  me 
later. 

The  mallards  came  faster  and  faster,  some 
of  them  keeping  clear  of  our  pond  but  other 
flocks    shooting    directly    over    the    water    in 


AM 


If  I IS1 l:.RN  FIELD 


front  of  us.  Tiny  flew  very  low,  sometimes 
ii.. i  over  a  dozen  feet  from  the  water,  lint 
they  had  the  grain  fields  in  their  minds  and 
our  decoys  didn't  seem  to  equal  the  attractions 
of  the  stray  kernels  out  there  in  the  fields. 
At  last  a  flock  seemed  to  recognize  our  decoys 
as  being  acquaintances  of  theirs  and  came 
swooping  back  along  the  pond  preparatory  to 
lighting.  Jim  shot  first  and  one  of  the  great 
ducks  with  stiffly  set  wings  sailed  down  almost 
to  the  boat  before  taking  the  water.  I  swung 
the  heavy  gun  with  the  leading  bird,  pulled  the 

trigger  and ! 

Did  you  ever  try  taking  a  bath  in  ice  cold 
water  on  a  January  morning?  If  you 
haven't,  try  it  and  see  how  thankful  you  feel 
at  not  having  to  do  it  every  morning.  The 
first  thing  that  greeted  my  ears  after  I  got  the 
water  out  of  them,  was  the  sound  of  loud 
vulgar  laughter  that  could  have  been  heard  up 
to  the  farm  house.  To  some  people  the  mis- 
fortunes of  others  are  the  funniest  things  that 
can  happen.  .  Such  a  sense  of  humor  is  to  be 
regretted. 

"Where  did  you  have  that  gun,  on  the  end 
of  your  nose?"  inquired  my  erstwhile  friend, 
between  his  yells  of  merriment. 

"No,  I  didn't  have  it  on  the  end  of  my 
nose,"  I  retorted  gruffly,  "but  I  was  shooting 
a  cannon  that  some  backwoods  hermit  had 
loaded  half  full  of  powder.  Darn  the  luck, 
anyhow,  what  did  I  want  to  trade  guns  for?" 

Jim  climbed  weakly  out  into  the  shallow 
water  and  pulled  the  boat  through  the  reeds 
to  shore,  chuckling  now  and  then  in  a  sense- 
less fashion  that  irritated  me.  We  built  a 
fire  of  some  pin  oak  branches  that  luckily 
were  on  the  ridge  where  we  landed,  and  peel- 
ing off  my  wet  garments  I  soon  was  warm  and 
comparatively  dry  and  ready  for  business 
again. 

By  this  time  the  mallards  were'fairly  knock- 
ing down  the  rushes  in  their  mad  flight  and 
we  pushed  hurriedly  out  into  our  shelter  again. 
The  ducks  were  coming  in  all  round  us  and 
it  was  a  case  of  load  and  fire  and  load  again 
as  quick  as  our  numb  fingers  could  dig  the 
shells  out  of  our  pockets.  I  offered  to  trade 
back,  but  my  friend  wanted  to  thoroughly 
try  out  the  little  gun,  so  I  kept  the  cannon. 
By  bracing  myself  firmly  and  holding  it  as 
tightly  as  possible,  I  escaped  any  more  baths ; 
but  oh !  the  pounding  that  I  did  get.  I  was  so 
used  to  the  12s  or  16s  with  their  light  quick 
recoil  that  the  pound  of  the  big  ten  with  its 


five  drams  of  black  powder   felt  like  the  kick 
of  the  comic  paper  "Maud"-mule. 

Jim  was  a  good  shot,  and  after  he  got  the 
lead  knocked  the  big  ducks  down  as  regularly 
as  he  pulled  the  trigger  of  the  little  gun. 
His  face  began  to  shine  with  pleasure  as  the 
little  sixteen  cut  down  duck  after  duck,  and 
I  began  to  wonder  if  I  was  to  be  condemned 
to  shoot  the  ten  the  rest  of  the  day.  Catching 
his  eye  I  silently  extended  the  big  gun  towards 
him,  but  he  discovered  or  pretended  to  dis- 
cover just  at  that  moment  a  duck  coming  our 
way  and  turned  his  back  to  me. 

The  dogs  were  as  happy  as  good  hunting 
dogs  can  be  and  as  they  made  their  trips  out 
into  the  pond  and  back  with  their  feathered 
loads,  the  pile  of  ducks  in  the  boat  grew  larger 
and  larger. 

The  teal  were  whistling  all  round  us  but  as 
one  mallard  would  make  about  three  teal,  we 
decided  to  confine  our  attention  to  the  larger 
ducks.  A  couple  of  mallards  came  whizzing 
along  the  opposite  side  of  the  pond,  fully  fifty 
yards  away,  evidently  behind  time  and  doing 
all  they  could  to  get  back  on  schedule.  As 
they  evinced  no  intention  of  stopping,  I  cut 
loose  at  the  leader.  The  gun  kicked  me 
viciously  on  the  shoulder  blade  and  from  the 
feeling  I  would  have  been  willing  to  bet  that 
all  the  energy  had  been  applied  to  kicking  my 
long  suffering  shoulder,  but  the  mallard  shot 
down  to  the  water  where  he  floated  in  a 
crumpled  heap.  The  little  gun  in  Jim's  hands 
cracked  spitefully  and  the  second  mallard  also 
took  the  plunge. 

"That  beats  the  Dutch,"  said  Jim.  "Not 
much  use  getting  your  shoulder  kicked  off 
when  a  little  gun  like  this  will  do  the  work. 
Must  be  loaded  with  dynamite  and  pizen. 
What  did  you  pay  for  it?"  looking  at  the 
handsome  little  duck  killer  a  trifle  enviously. 
I  named  the  price,  a  little  bashfully,  it  was  a 
big  price. 

"Here,  take  your  old  gun,"  said  Jim,  turn- 
ing pale,  "I'm  liable  to  bust  the  thing  about  a 
hundred  dollars  worth  if  I  happen  to  drop  it." 
But  I  persuaded  him  to  keep  it  and  we  went 
on  with  our  duck  getting. 

A  little  later,  cutting  down  a  solitary  canvas- 
back  that  strayed  over  our  pond  looking  for 
company,  Jim  licked  his  chops  with  anticipa- 
tion and  sent  Jack  squattering  after  the  duck, 
floating  motionless  out  near  the  middle  of  the 
pond.  Suddenly,  before  the  dog  was  within 
twenty  feet  of  the  floating  duck,  there  was  a 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


435 


swirl  and  the  duck  disappeared.  I  stared  but 
Jim  merely  swore. 

"One  of  those  qualified  and  ever  condemned 
muskrats,"  said  Jim,  laconically.  That  is,  his 
description  of  the  muskrat  and  his  ancestry 
amounted  to  the  above.  Space  and  the  mails 
forbid  my  quoting  him  verbatim. 

Away  above  us  sounded  the  call  of  the  wild 
goose  and  looking  up  into  the  grey,  we  saw 
the  flock,  flying  low  and  making  for  the  grain 
fields,  which  seemed  to  be  the  Mecca  of  all 
the  wild  fowl  within  twenty  miles. 

"Like  a  crack  at  them?"  asked  Jim  as  he 
noticed  my  rapt  stare  at  the  great  grey  birds. 

"You  betcha,"  I  replied,  succinctly  if  not 
elegantly.  Saying  nothing,  Jim  took  the  oars 
and  pushing  out,  gathered  up  the  decoys. 

Then  we  pulled  up  the  slough  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  flight  of  the  geese.  A  few  hundred 
yards  further  on  we  come  to  dry  land  where 
the  marsh  was  fringed  with  a  few  oaks.  Be- 
yond lay  a  field,  brown  and  bare,  but  evidently 
having  enough  grain  left  to  attract  the  wild 
birds, 

"I've  got  a  pit  out  there  in  the  middle  and 
we  should  get  some  honkers  if  we  wait  long 
enough,"  said  Jim  as  we  took  up  our  way 
across  the  field,  keeping  the  anxious  dogs  to 
heel. 

The  geese  were  out  near  the  pit  and  on  our 
approach,  rose  into  the  air,  beating  the  air 
with  their  great  wings  as  they  hung  nearly 
motionless  against  the  powerful  wind,  but  they 
gathered  headway  and  left  before  we  could 
get  within  gun  shot. 

The  pit  was  comfortably  furnished  with  a 
couple  of  boards  to  sit  on  and  skillfully  con- 
cealed from  the  notice  of  the  oncoming 
honker  by  piles  of  cut  grain,  stacked  up  along 
the   edges.     We   sat   in    it    for   half   an   hour. 


talking  sociably  with  nothing  to  interrupt  the 
conversation.  Once  in  a  while  a  flock  of 
mallards  came  close  by  but  Jim  discouraged 
shooting  at  them,  fearing  that  the  firing  might 
drive  the  larger  birds  away,  so  we  passed  up 
the  whizzing,  green-headed  beauties  and 
waited. 

At  last  a  flock  of  the  grey  birds  came  in 
sight,  headed  for  our  field,  and  the  question 
was  whether  they  would  pass  within  gun  shot 
or  not.  Fortune  favored  us.  They  headed 
directly  for  the  field  and,  led  by  a  wary  gan- 
der, circled  around  with  slow  beating  wings, 
carefully  inspecting  the  field  for  danger.  Evi- 
dently seeing  nothing  suspicious  about  the 
little  dark  spot  in  the  middle  of  their  pro- 
posed dining  table,  they  swung  yet  lower  and 
came  over  our  heads,  about  thirty  feet  high. 

The  little  gun  and  the  big  one  spoke  their 
pieces  with  the  staccato  accent,  the  shot  rattled 
against  the  outstretched  wings  and  broad 
breasts  of  the  two  fated  geese  and  they  came 
to  earth  with  the  traditional  dull  and  sick- 
ening thuds.  We  cut  loose  with  our  second 
barrels  but  only  scored  one  goose,  which  fell 
before  the  more  experienced  aim  of  my  friend, 
shooting  the  sixteen.  The  last  goose  was 
flapping  around  with  a  broken  wing  so  we 
gave  chase  and  brought  him  to  bag. 

"Got  enough  for  today?"  inquired  my 
friend. 

My  bruised  shoulder  cried  "Enough,"  and 
besides  we  had  about  forty  ducks  and  three 
geese  between  us,  so  we  picked  up  the  great 
birds  and  retraced  our  steps  to  the  boat.  We 
packed  the  birds  away  and  took  our  places. 

"All  set,"  said  Jim  from  his  position  of 
"stroke." 

"All  set,"  I  replied  from  "bow."  The  oars 
struck  the  water  and  we  were  off  for  home. 


SOUTH  COAST  SHOOTING 


Bv  "Stillhuntf.r" 


No.  XII—  Moke  Aboit  the  Shokebirds 


Y  LAST  paper  on  the  shore- 
birds  ended  with  the  red- 
backed  sandpiper,  the  Dun- 
lin of  America,  well  known  to 
sportsmen  up  and  down  the 
west  coast  from  the  far  Aleu- 
tian Isles  to  barren  Cape  San 
Lucas.  Mingled  with  these 
red-backs  in  small  numbers, 
but  usually  migrating  in  much 
larger  bands  composed  entirely  of  indi- 
viduals of  their  own  species,  the  western 
Semipalmated  Sandpipers  come  down  the 
coast  in  early  fall  and  return  north  again  in 
the  last  half  of  April.  The  midwinter 
months  they  spend  far  to  the  south,  along 
the  beaches  of  Central  America  and  the 
northwestern  shoulder  of  the  South  Ameri- 
can continent. 

I  have  seen  these  little  waders  in  such 
flocks  that  they  seemed  a  gray  mist-cloud 
as  they  wheeled  and  whirled  above  the  shal- 
low surf.  Among  the  most  restless  of  the 
seaside  feeders,  these  birds  seem  actuated 
by  a  common  impulse  to  be  constantly  on 
the  flit.  For  an  instant  a  flock  of  one  or 
two  hundred  will  dip  down  to  the  sand, 
bustle  about  industriously  after  food,  and 
then,  with  a  few  scattered  "peeps"  from 
those  in  the  front  rank,  will  rise  and  wheel 
out  over  the  edge  of  the  sea,  only  to  return 
in  a  few  moments  almost  to  the  identical 
spot  whence  they  rose.  Their  food.  like 
that  of  most  of  the  shorebirds,  is  the  minute 
life  cast  up  by  the  sea  and  the  plumpness  of 
their  bodies  as  they  come  south  in  autumn 
proves  they  have  lived  well  all  down  the  rim 
of  the  Pacific.  On  the  way  north  in  spring 
they  are  not  so  fat,  possibly  because  they 
are  in  a  greater  hurry  to  reach  their  nesting 
grounds  and  thus  take  less  time  for  feeding. 
A  game  bird  only  in  the  sense  that  pot- 
hunters and  Sunday  shooters  make  black- 
birds game  birds,  the  western  Sandpiper  is 
shot  only  by  those  who   lack  the   skill   and 


the  patience  to  hunt  successfully  the  bigger 
curlews  and  willets. 

On  the  tundra  of  the  Yukon  and  in  other 
parts  of  the  far  north,  the  female  makes  her 
nest  in  a  hollow  which  she  works  out  in 
the  moss  or  in  some  tussock  of  grass. 
There,  in  the  month  of  May,  she  lays  three 
or  four  pyriform  eggs,  smaller  than  those 
of  the  California  Valley  Quail,  clay-colored 
and  spotted  and  blotched  and  lined  with 
umber  and  brown.  When  the  young  hatch 
they  run  about  almost  as  soon  as  they  are 
dry.  Both  old  birds  are  said  to  assist  in 
the  incubation  of  the  eggs,  which  require 
from  sixteen  to  twenty  days.  This  partner- 
ship on  the  nest,  however,  is  common  to 
many  shorebirds,  some  of  the  gallinaceous 
game  birds  and  a  few  of  the  ducks. 

Of  the  sanderling,  another  small  wader 
that  spends  the  winter  in  flocks  along  the 
South  Coast,  there  is  little  to  be  said  which 
has  not  been  written  already  about  some 
other  species.  Knowing  intimately  one  of 
the  sandpipers,  the  observer  knows  them 
all,  so  far  as  general  habits  are  concerned. 
Individually,  they  differ  somewhat  in  breed- 
ing habits,  migration  dates,  etc.,  but  in  food 
supply  and  habits  under  the  eye  of  the 
sportsman,  they  are  so  much  alike  as  to  be 
included  under  the  club  keeper's  phrase, 
"them's   peeps." 

The  sanderling,  or  "Beach  Bird,"  as  it  is 
most  commonly  called  on  the  south  coast, 
ranges  round  the  world,  and  breeds  in  the 
northern  hemisphere  close  to  the  Arctic 
Circle.  It  is  peculiar  in  its  migration  in 
that  it  is  frequently  met  with  in  flocks  three 
or  four  miles  out  at  sea,  while  it  is  by  far 
the  most  common  of  the  shorebirds  found 
on  Catalina  and  other  channel  islands. 

Traveling  in  small  flocks,  one  band  of 
perhaps  a  score  of  sanderlings  usually 
strings  itself  out  over  half  a  mile  of  sea 
beach,  the  birds  farthest  from  the  direction 
in   which   the   birds   are   feeding  rising   first 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


437 


from  the  sand  and  calling  the  others  as  they 
go.  Sanderlings  occasionally  rise  to  great 
heights  in  their  flight,  but  where  they  fol- 
low the  coast  in  migration,  their  course 
usually  carries  them  over  the  sea  rather 
than  the  land. 

One  of  the  Godwits,  large  waders  from 
sixteen  to  eighteen  inches  in  length,  has 
been  taken  on  this  coast.  I  did  not  see  the 
bird  myself,  but  it  is  listed  as  the  Marbled 
Godwit,  though  I  should  rather  think  it  to 
be  the  Pacific  form  (Limosa  lapponica 
baueri,)  owing  to  the  range  of  the  latter, 
which  is  found  in  summer  all  the  way  down 
the  Alaskan  coast,  while  the  Marbled  God- 
wit  is  a  bird  of  the  Mississippi  Valley  and 
Great  Plains  country,  ranging  as  far  east 
as  Pennsylvania  and  confined  on  the  west 
by  the  Rocky  Mountains,  according  to  the 
best  authorities  I  have  at  hand.  I  have  never 
seen  a  Godwit  on  this  Coast.  They  are 
good  table  birds,  strong  in  flight  and  rather 
wary,  so  that  they  would  be  welcomed  by- 
sportsmen  on  the  south  coast. 

About  fresh-wate'r  ponds  and  along  the 
sloughs  which,  in  winter,  mark  the  course 
of  the  San  Gabriel,  the  San  Luis  Rey,  the 
Ventura,  and  other  South  Coast  streams, 
ungainly,  long-legged  waders  will  be  found 
commonly  from  the  end  of  September  to 
the  end  of  May,  and  later.  This  is  the 
Greater  Yellow-legs,  a  bird  some  fifteen 
inches  long  and  marked  from  all  other 
waders  by  bright  yellow  legs.  It  can  be 
identified  by  these  alone,  though  its  habit 
of  moving  about  with  its  legs  bent  at  the 
first  joint,  like  a  rail,  instead  of  erect,  like 
most  of  the  waders,  is  also  a  striking  char- 
acteristic of  the  bird.  It  is  also  a  fre- 
quenter of  the  salt  water  marshes  of  this 
end  of  the  State,  appearing  in  such  locali- 
ties in  greater  numbers  than  along  the 
rivers. 

In  company  with  the  American  Avocet, 
the  Greater  Yellow-legs  is  commonly  called 
"Yelper,"  owing  to  its  habit  of  continually 
whistling,  whether  on  foot  or  on  the  wing. 
In  the  East,  where  it  is  seen  by  thousands 
during  the  migration,  its  most  common 
name  is  "Stone  bird,"  possibly  from  its 
habit  of  frequenting  rocky  beaches  and 
feeding  in  the  little  mud  pools  around  stones 
in  sloughs  and  at  the  edges  of  rivers. 

The  Greater  Yellow-legs  is  an  excellent 
game  bird,  coming  in  well  to  decoys  when 


lured  by  the  whistled  imitation  of  their 
call.  I  have  shot  yellow-legs  by  the  simpler 
and  more  sportsmanlike  manner  of  walking 
them  up. 

I  remember — I  see  that  1  have  fallen 
quite  into  the  habit  of  remembering  since  I 
commenced  these  shooting  stories — one 
sunny  morning  in  January  (for  we  who 
dwell  on  the  south  coast  do  have  sunny 
days  in  January  I  when,  armed  with  waders 
and  a  little  20  gauge,  I  walked  down  the 
San  Gabriel  about  where  Mr.  Huntington's 
electric  line  from  Los  Angeles  to  Covina 
now  crosses  it.  The  stream,  swollen  by 
winter  rains  and  melting  snows  of  the  hills, 
had  overflowed  its  banks,  making  here  and 
there  long  shallow  pools,  exactly  suited  to 
the  shore  birds  that  frequent  fresh  water 
lowlands. 

At  one  side  of  the  river  stretched  a  wide, 
level  field,  evidently  uncultivated  for  some 
several  seasons.  A  solitary  marsh  hawk, 
searching  the  miniature  plain  for  mice,  win- 
nowed with  slow  wing-beats  the  air  three 
feet  above  the  field.  I  stepped  through  a 
fringe  of  willows  to  '  the  strong,  double- 
wired  fence  that  marked  the  field  from  the 
river  to  see  the  hawk's  work  the  better. 
Raising  my  foot  to  the  first  wire,  I  struck 
one  of  the  willow  posts  a  resounding  blow 
by  accident.  Instantly  there  was  a  whirr  of 
wrings  from  just  inside  the  fence,  a  cry  of 
"scaip,  scaip,  scaip-p-p-p!"  and  a  jack  snipe 
was  off  in  usual  wobbly  fashion  across  the 
field. 

Don't  always  wait  for  a  jack  snipe  to 
straighten  out  that  corkscrew  flight  of  his; 
he  may  be  in  the  next  county  before  he 
makes  up  his  mind  to  accommodate  you. 
On  one  of  this  particular  snipe's  curves, 
then,  I  presented  him  with  a  thimbleful  of 
nines,  a  part  of  which  he  accepted  and 
crumbled  up  in  a  nice  little  brown  bundle, 
hitting  the  grass  with  that  welcome  thud 
which  the  successful  shooter  feels  rather 
than  hears. 

Of  course  the  hawk  heard  the  shot  and, 
setting  his  slate-colored  aero-planes  against 
the  breeze,  sailed  away  down  over  the  field 
until  his  hazy  outlines  became  one  with  the 
horizon.  I  picked  up  my  snipe  and  tramped 
around  a  bit,  looking  for  more.  but.  failing 
to  get  any,  turned  back  to  the  river.  Then 
I  wasted  an  hour  trying  to  connect  with 
three  or  four  teal  in   different  parts  of  the 


4.W 


WESTERN  in  LD 


river,  but  they  had  no  hankering  after  my 
society  and  1  only  succeeded  in  driving 
them  into  one  band  and  then  on  out  of  the 
stream  altogether. 

When  I  got  through  with  this  exploit  it 
was  noon  and  I  sat  down  to  eat,  just  back 
of  a  little  mud  Mat  which  ran  like  a  sand 
bar  out  into  the  river.  As  I  lunched,  a 
band  of  some  twenty  ( ireater- Yellow-legs  came 
drifting  in,  whistling  incessantly.  Three 
paid  the  penalty  of  their  lives  for  standing 
too  close  together  when  the  little  gun 
cracked,  and,  as  they  rose,  T  whistled  their 
call — wheu-eetl  wheu-eet! — an  elongated  cur- 
lew cry.  In  midair  they  paused,  whirled 
about  and  came  back  in  several  narrowing 
circles  to  hang  like  so  many  huge  gray  butter- 
Mies  over  the  place  where  lay  their  dead  com- 
panions. Again  the  nitro  cracked  and  this 
time  two  fell  Muttering  to  the  mud  Mat, 
while  the  other  barrel  gathered  in  a  sixth 
bird  as  the  Mock  turned  away  over  the  low 
willow  scrub. 

This  is  a  little  better  than  the  average 
of  days  among  the  Yellow-legs,  but  a  man 
with  decoys  or  who  knows  how  to  prop 
up  the  first  of  his  killings  in  life-like  atti- 
tudes can  easily  do  as  well  or  better.  I 
believe  that  what  a  man  should  kill  is  what 
he  and  those  for  whom  he  shoots  can  eat, 
and  six  Yellow-legs  are  all  three  people  can 
eat,  so  I  quit  with  my  six  and  the  Wilson's 
Snipe,  which  went  to  the  little  lady  of  three 
summers  who  some  day  will  be  able  to 
shoot  her  own  birds  and  catch  her  own 
fish  if  her  daddy  knows  anything  about  her 
future. 

It  should  be  mentioned  here  that  the 
Yellowlegs,  "Little  Yellow-legs,"  "Summer 
Yellow-legs,"  or  "Tell-tale,"  as  it  is  vari- 
ously known,  is  also  supposed  to  occur 
sparingly  on  this  Coast.  It  is  a  perfect 
miniature  of  the  Greater  Yellow-legs  and 
is  more  numerous  in  the  East  than  its 
larger  relative. 

Along  the  rivers  and  on  interior  low- 
lands in  the  fall  and  spring  appear  scatter- 
ing Solitary  Sandpipers.  These  are  the 
western  form  Tetanus  solitarius  cinnamo- 
mcus,  but  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  so 
far  as  habits  go,  they  are  the  same  birds  as 
are  found  along  eastern  watercourses  dur- 
ing migrations.  No  one,  unless  he  be  bent 
on  matters  ornithological,  would  think  of 
shooting   this    bird   and   the   average    coast- 


wise   shooter    lives    and    dies    without    ever 
seeing  one. 

Largest  of  the  snipes  and  sandpipers,' 
with  the  exception  of  the  curlews  and  the 
Godwits,  the  Western  Willct  is  one  of  the 
most  abundant  birds  on  the  south  coast 
marshes  and  even  along  the  beaches  during 
the  migration  seasons  of  fall  and  spring. 
Quite  a  number  also  remain  here  through 
the  winter,  but  by  far  the  greater  portion 
of  the  migrant  willets  go  on  south  to 
warmer  climes  and  presumably  better  feed- 
ing grounds.  These  large  gray  straight- 
billed  birds  frequently  may  be  seen  in  com- 
pany with  the  Hudsonian  Curlew  in  fall  and 
spring.  With  the  Long-Billed  Curlew,  giant 
of  the  waders  that  it  is,  the  willets  do  not 
associate  to  any  extent. 

The  Western  Willet  is  an  extremely  noisy 
bird,  repeating  its  name  as  the  final  syllable 
in  a  whistling  cry  which  Elliot  has  trans- 
lated as  pill-will-willct,  but  which  has  always 
sounded  to  me  more  like  will-will-zcillct. 
Wary  to  a  surprising  degree,  and  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  wiles  of  hunters,  these 
stately  waders  are  among  the  hardest  of 
all  the  shorebirds  to  approach,  while  it 
is  practically  impossible  to  decoy  them. 

To  imitations  of  their  whistled  cry  Willets 
pay  little  or  no  attention,  while  decoy-birds, 
even  when  the  dead  of  their  own  bands  set 
up  for  a  lure,  seem  to  have  no  attraction  for 
them  such  as  they  have  for  other  shore 
birds.  Fearlessly  they  come  up  about  the 
board  walks  and  crowded  pleasure  piers  of 
coastwise  towns,  but  try  to  approach  one 
as  he  feeds  along  some  lonely  part  of  the 
beach  and  see  how  quickly  the  bird  will 
rise  while  you  are  yet  out  of  gun  shot. 

The  writer's  method  of  shooting  these 
birds  is  with  a  .22-caliber  rifie,  rather  than 
a  shotgun.  If  "short"  cartridges  are  used 
the  birds  will  not  be  torn  badly  and  they 
can  be  shot  at  what  seem  surprising  dis- 
tances along  the  beach.  On  the  desert,  ob- 
jects ten  miles  away  appear  scarcely  five 
miles  from  the  eye,  but  on  the  beach  a  bird 
fifty  yards  from  the  shooter  seems  at  least 
200.  Possibly  some  department  store  op- 
tician who  "fits  your  eyes  perfectly"  at  $1 
per  fit  can  explain  this  difference  between 
sight  over  dry  sand  and  sight  over  wet 
sand,  but  I  have  never  met  the  sportsman 
who  could  give  a  good  reason  for  it.  Willet 
and    curlew    are    very    deceptive    in    this    re- 


THE  PACIFIC  CO. 1ST  MAGAZINE 


439 


spect  and  even  yet,  after  several  years  of 
shooting  along  the  beach  with  a  small  rifle, 
I  overshot  about  one  bird  in  five. 

After  the  willets  come  two  species  of 
long-legs  which  do  not  greatly  interest  the 
shooter,  the  one  because  of  its  rarity  and  the 
other  because  of  its  small  size  and  the  fact 
that  it  usually  travels  alone.  These  are  the 
Wandering  Tattler  and  the  Spotted  Sand- 
piper. Little  is  known  of  the  Tattler,  save 
that  it  is  a  solitary  wanderer,  traveling 
thousands  of  miles  over  wastes  of  sea  and 
barren  land  to  breed,  supposedly,  in  the  in- 
terior regions  of  the  far  north,  though  its 
nest  and  eggs  have  never  been  taken. 

The  spotted  Sandpiper  is  one  of  the  best 
known    of    all    the    family    throughout    the 


eastern  states,  nesting  along  the  shores  of 
creeks  and  inland  lakes;  on  this  coast,  how- 
ever, it  is  merely  a  migrant,  appearing  for 
the  most  part  on  rocky  beaches  such  as 
those  at  Laguna,  La  Jolla,  and  San  Pedro, 
or  else  far  inland,  even  frequenting  moun- 
tain streams  at  a  considerable  elevation. 

But,  giants  among  the  shore  birds,  liven- 
ing the  beach  almost  as  much  as  do  the 
great  white  and  black  gulls,  nearly  as  wel- 
come on  the  table  as  the  teal  or  mallard 
from  the  seaside  ponds,  these  big  curve- 
billed  fellows  are  the  delight  of  the  beach 
shooter's  heart.  To  the  writer  they  are 
among  the  finest  of  water  birds  and  they 
will  be  discussed,  along  with  the  plover,  in 
the  succeeding  paper  of  this  series. 


By    "Smai.t.arms." 


S  yOU  sit  in  the  blind,  with  the 
first  rays  of  the  rising  sun, 
striking  across  the  marsh  and 
watch  that  little  bunch  of 
mallards  circling  the  pond  and 
ccyning  closer  and  closer,  you 
grip  the  barrels  of  the  little 
sixteen  tighter  and  tighter  and 
the  world  fades  from  your  ken, 
outside  that  little  bunch  of  swift 
flying  birds. 

Four  seconds  later,  they  come  whizzing  over 
your  head  not  twenty  yards  high.  The  blue 
barrel  of  your  gun  speaks  sharply  and  the 
leading  duck,  under  the  blow  of  the  little 
leaden  pellets,  folds  his  wings  and  comes  to 
the   water   with   a   splash. 

As  the  second  barrel  takes  its  toll  of  the 
swift  climbing  ducks  and  you  rise  and  eagerly 
watch  the  second  bird  sail  down,  the  troubles 
and  disappointments  of  the  past  and  the  un- 
certainties of  the  future  are  forgotten,  and  for 
a  moment  you  drink  of  the  cup  of  supreme 
happiness,  held  to  your  eager  lips  by  Dame 
Fortune,  garbed  for  the  time  as  Diana. 

Again,  as  you  walk  across  that  old  vine- 
yard and  at  last  the  old  dog  suddenly  lines 
that  little  covey  in  front  of  him,  your  heart 
begins  to  leap  as  no  success  in  business  ever 
made  it  leap  and  you  shove  the  dog  forward, 
step  by  step  until  the  blue  beauties  suddenly 
rise  with  a  thunderous  whirr.  The  little  gun 
lines  that  big  cock  breaking  off  to  the  left, 
cracks  like  a  whip,  and  the  cock  plunges  to 
earth  in  a  cloud  of  feathers. 

Elegant!  Your  idea  of  Heaven  just  then, 
is  a  place  where  you  could  do  just  that  and 
nothing  else.  The  long  tramp,  the  fruitless 
search  through  covert  after  covert  and  the 
possibilities  of  not  finding  any  more  birds, 
matter  not ;  that  clean  kill  at  fifty  yards  makes 
up   for   everything. 

But  there  are  times  when  the  desire  to 
shoot  comes  strongly  upon  you ;  you  just  want 
to  shoulder  that  gun  and  "hike"  out,  no  matter 


where  nor  after  what  game,  just  as  long  as 
you  are  hunting,  but  alas,  opportunity  is  lack- 
ing. The  wise  game  laws  of  the  State  may 
stretch  out  and  forbid  you  or  maybe  you 
can't  spare  the  two  or  three  days  necessary 
for  the  trip  after  the  toothsome  quackers  or 
the  whirring  blue  beauties  of  the  brush.  Then, 
if  you  can  shoot  a  rifle  and  enjoy  it,  there  is 
no  panacea  for  the  disappointment  creeping 
upon  you  equal  to  a  little  trip  out  into  the 
hills  with  the  little  gun. 

It  was  in  the  interim  between  the  close  of 
the  deer  season  and  the  opening  of  the  quail. 
The  ducks  were  in  season  but  shooting  them 
meant  a  two  day's  trip  down  to  the  ocean — 
more  time  than  I  could  spare.  I  was  tired  of 
shooting  the  Colts  at  a  microscopical  ten  ring 
over  there  with  the  other  cranks.  Blue  rocks 
don't  whirr  up  out  of  the  brush  and  whizz  off 
while  you  fill  the  atmosphere  around  them 
with  ineffective  shots,  nor  do  they  come  cir- 
cling around  with  whistling  wings  before  light- 
ing beside  those  tempting  decoys.  I  was 
sick  of  blue  rocks ! 

When  Sunday  morning  came  round,  bright 
and  clear  and  beckoning  the  fagged-out  in- 
habitants of  offices  to  come  and  get  close  to 
Nature,  I  climbed  into  my  cold  tub  with  not 
an  idea  to  bless  myself  with  and  when  I 
emerged,  twenty  seconds  later,  dripping  and 
thoroughly  awake,  the  plan  for  the  day  was 
tucked  away  in  my  head. 

The  Other  Fellow — who  happens  to  be 
married  to  me — and  I  ate  breakfast  hurriedly. 
The  Other  Fellow  is  always  game  for  any 
trip,  whether  the  quarry  be  elephants  or  some- 
thing smaller,  and  seconded  my  plan  heartily. 

Fortified  for  a  few  hours  at  least,  we  tucked 
the  little  Marlin  into  its  case,  a  lunch  and 
some  five  hundred  shells  into  our  pockets — 
"our"  in  this  instance  being  used  in  a  strict 
editorial  sense,  the  Other  Fellow  being  too 
wise  to  provide  herself  with  pockets,  and  set 
forth,  bound  for  the  foothills  just  outside 
the  city. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


441 


The  hills  were  turning  brown  on  their 
exposed  sides,  but  the  valleys  were  filled 
with  the  wild  walnut  trees  and  looked  cool 
ami  inviting,  as  we  disembarked  from  the 
car  and  made  our  way  across  the  four  hundred 
intervening  yards,  with  pleasant  anticipations 
of  the  coolness  and  shade  of  the  aforesaid 
valleys. 

Arrived  among  the  green  walnut  trees,  we 
climbed  up  the  gulch  which  gradually  ran  up 
toward  the  top  of  the  hills,  and  turning  a 
sharp  curve  found  ourselves  just  across  the 
gulch  from  a  bare  patch  of  ground,  some 
hundred  yards  wide  and  literally  honeycombed 
with  the  holes  of  the  squirrels. 

As  we  came  in  sight  there  was  a  grand  scam- 
pering, and  then  on  twenty  front  porches  of 
the  squirrel  residences  sat  vociferous  squirrels, 
hurling  Billingsgate  at  us  in  squirrel  language, 
criticising  in  the  short  sharp  whistle  dialect  of 
the  squirrel  family,  our  hair,  the  way  we  wore 
our  hats,  our  rifle  and  our  supposed  marks- 
manship. 

Ever  and  anon  some  one  of  the  chorus  dove 
out  of  sight  with  a  contemptuous  flirt  of  his 
tail,  and  some  other  member  of  his  family 
came  out  to  say  funny  things  to  other  ruffians 
around  him,  about  "the  two  rummies  over  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  gulch." 

We  were  interested.  We  decided  that  this 
would  be  a  good  place  to  stop,  and  besides, 
our  feelings  were  hurt.  We  unlimbered  our 
artillery  and  poured  some  half  a  box  of  shells 
into  the  lengthy  magazine  of  our  rifle,  then 
we  were  ready  to  start  the  slaughter — as  we 
of  course  supposed  it  would  be. 

There  was  a  big  fat  German  groceryman, 
judging  fty  his  appearance,  sitting  on  the 
verandah  of  the  hole  nearest  to  us,  and  his 
remarks  were  particularly  offensive  to  us  from 
the  fact  that  we  couldn't  understand  them. 
We  sat  down  in  a  comfortable  place  in  the 
shade  of  the  trees  and  I  ran  up  the  Marble 
sight  to  where  I  thought  it  belonged.  Then 
I  drew  the  gold  bead  in  front,  on  the  white 
stomach  of  our  Teutonic  friend  across  the 
gulch. 

The  rifle  cracked  sharply,  there  was  an 
instant  cessation  of  the  noise  and  as  quick  a 
disappearance  of  the  noise  producers.  Strange 
to  say,  the  groceryman  disappeared  along  with 
the  rest  of  the  outfit,  apparently  sound  in  wind 
and  limb. 

I  turned  in  time  to  catch  the  Other  Fellow, 
very  ostentatiously  concealing  a  smile  behind 


the  palm  of  her  hand.  It  was  her  turn  to 
shoot.  One  shot  did  not  frighten  this  in- 
domitable band  very  long,  and  soon  a  head 
with  a  pair  of  bright  eyes  and  an  inquiring 
nose  came  into  view  in  one  of  the  holes 
across  the  gulch,  and  seeing  nothing  par- 
ticularly dangerous  brought  out  the  rest  of 
his  establishment  with  his  "Coast  Clear"  signal. 
In  a  minute  or  so  other  investigators  were 
out  and  there  were  half  a  dozen  tempting  shots 
offering  themselves  across  the  little  gulch. 

The  Other  Fellow  took  the  little  rifle,  ad- 
justed the  sights  to  suit  her  own  particular 
guess  as  to  the  distance,  and  then  took  care- 
ful aim  at  a  very  noisy  squirrel  sitting  on 
a  flat  rock  which  formed  the  verandah  to 
his  bungalow.  With  the  crack  of  the  rifle,  Mr. 
Bushy-tail  rolled  slowly  off  the  rock  and 
down  the  hill,  some  thirty  feet,  then  recover- 
ing himself  dove  in  the  nearest  hole.  This  was 
resented  by  the  owner  of  that  particular 
domicile  and  the  supposedly  slain  squirrel 
comes  forth  in  haste  about  ten  seconds  later 
and  ran  lightly  back  up  the  hill  to  his  own 
home. 

"Well"  said  the  Other  Fellow,  in  a  tone 
which  expressed  volumes,  "would'nt  that  make 
you  swear !  Shoot  one  of  those  little  beasts 
through  and  through  and  then  he  runs  around 
the  hill  as  though  it  made  him  feel  fine". 

"Ahem"  said  I,  with  a  malicious  smile,  but 
she  really  did  hit  the  squirrel,  despite  my 
denials. 

A  particularly  tempting  shot  offered  itself 
where  a  big  squirrel  sat  in  a  patch  of  white 
dust,  a  perfect  mark,  and  I  tried  it  again. 
This  time  a  spurt  of  white  dust  flew  up 
directly  beneath  the  squirrel  and  I  appar- 
ently had  missed  him  as  he  did  not  move  a 
muscle.  Suddenly  the  little  beast  rolled  over 
and  over  down  down  the  hill  and  did  not  stop 
until  he  reached  the  bottom  of  the  draw. 
I  decided  that  I  would  retrieve  this  one  and 
see  what  kind  of  material  these  queer  beasts 
are  made  of.  My  bullet  had  passed  through 
the  heart  and  spine  of  the  little  fellow  and 
the  mushroom  bullet  had  paralyzed  him  so 
that  he  did  not  move  an  inch  when  hit.  First 
lesson  for  us  in  squirrel  hunting :  Either  a 
shot  in  the  head  or  the  breast  or  else  no 
squirrel. 

The  settlement  by  this  being  pretty  well 
scared  into  politeness,  we  took  up  our  impedi- 
menta and  trekked  up  the  gulch  in  search  of 
whatever   fortune   might   befall   us.        A   long 


4-JJ 


II  1-siER.X  FIELD 


tailed  Road  Runner  suddenly  jumped  up  in 
front  of  us  and  started  up  the  bare  hillside 
opposite  for  the  shelter  of  the  brush  higher 
up.  With  his  long  tail  switching  him  from 
side  to  side,  and  his  ungainly  gait,  he  looked 
to  be  about  as  helpless  a  thing  as  one  would 
find  in  a  day's  march  through  the  hills,  and 
it  was  with  a  feeling  of  pity  that  I  deigned  to 
plant  a  bullet  just  behind  him  to  stir  him  up, 
as  I  expressed  it.  It  stirred  him!  He  didn't 
run  nor  fly,  he  just  sort  of  progressed  through 
space,  once  in  a  while  hitting  the  high  places 
but  usually  spurning  the  ground  and  the  walk- 
ing which  it  offered  as  being  entirely  too 
slow  for  a  gentleman  in  the  hurry  that  seemed 
to  possess  this  one. 

When  the  dust  cleared  away  and  the  last 
shot  had  ceased  to  echo  through  the  hills,  the 
Runner  was  still  going  and  was  apparently 
due  in  San  Bernardino  in  four  minutes,  judg- 
ing from  his  rate  of  speed  when  last  seen.  I 
filled  up  the  magazine  thoughtfully  and  decided 
that  the  Road  Runner  must  have  been  a  ghost, 
I  could  plainly  see  the  shots  go  through  him 
and  strike  on  the  other  side.  In  all  my 
experience  I  have  yet  to  see  one  which  was 
anything   different. 

We  arrived  at  another  squirrel  city  and 
proceeded  to  repeat  our  previous  failures  to 
land  the  shots  that  counted,  but  after  while  a 
couple  of  the  noisy  ones  fell  victims  to  our 
prowess — by  the  laws  of  chance,  which  decree 
that  if  you  fire  a  certain  number  of  shots  at  an 
object,  that  one  out  of  this  number  will  find 
its  billet. 

It  was  irritating,  both  of  us  good  shots  and 
yet  failing  to  land  one  in  half  a  dozen 
squirrels  shot  at,  but  we  were  learning 
gradually.  When  noon  came  we  had  four 
young  squirrels  to  use  in  our  proposed  pot- 
pie,  the  Other  Fellow  insisting  that  they  looked 
good  to  eat  and  that  she  was  going  to  try 
them.  As  I  could  think  of  no  valid  reason  as 
to  why  they  should  not  be  good,  except  the 
time  honored  one  that  people  did'nt  eat  them, 
I  was  forced  to  carry  the  little  beasties  along 
with  us.  I  lost  them  iour  times,  but  the  last 
time,  when  I  had  made  a  splendid  job  of  it 
and  lost  the  bunch  down  a  deep  draw,  I  was 
sent  after  them  by  the  Argus-eyed  Other 
Fellow,  and  forced  to  climb  down  through 
the  brush  to  get  them;  so  I  decided  to  make 
the  best  of  it  and  carry  the  squirrels  home. 

A  shady,  cool  level  spot  presented  us  with 
an  invitation  to  stop  and  eat  our  lunch  there 


and  we  accepted  with  good  grace.  How  good 
things  did  taste !  We  unpacked  the  grub  and 
set  it  out  in  brave  array  on  the  paper  in  which 
it  was  wrapped.  The  flask  of  lemonade  was 
set  in  a  commanding  position,  and  with  the 
genuine  open  air  appetites  which  are  entirely 
different  from  the  mere  good  taste-tickle-thc- 
palate  desires,  we  set  to.  There  was  a  long 
silence  but  a  busy  one. 

"Yumm-Yumm"  said  I,  speaking  through 
the  sandwich  which  I  had  in  my  mouth,  "every- 
thing tastes  just  fine,  but  this  bread  has  a 
sort  of  new  and  queer  flavor.  Is  it  any 
different  from  what  you  usually  make  ?" 

The  Other  Fellow  looked  hard  at  the  por- 
tion of  the  sandwich  which  I  still  held  and 
then  giggled  foolishly. 

"You  might  try  brushing  off  about  half  of 
those  ants  on  the  bottom  of  that  sandwich. 
Too  many  of  them  make  a  queer  taste  some 
times"  Then  she  giggled  again.  It  don't  take 
much  to  amuse  some  people.  I  brushed  off 
some  dozen  ants  which  were  disputing  the 
possession  of  the  morsel  with  me  and  ate  on 
with  undiminished  enjoyment.  It  is  queer 
how  near  to  primitive  savagery  a  man  comes 
when  he  gets  out  in  the  wilds  and  eats  with 
his  fingers  in  the  first  way  known  to  man. 

The  lunch  gone,  and  the  interior  of  the 
lemonade  flask  drier  than  the  Mojave  desert 
in  July,  we  spent  an  hour  in  the  grateful  shade, 
enjoying  the  unaccustomed  quiet  and  idly 
watching  the  little  cloud  ships  sailing  over  their 
blue  lake.  How  good  it  did  seem  just  to  do 
nothing,  just  to  be  lazy  and  peaceful! 

A  white  limestone  rock  about  a  foot  in 
diameter,  lay  in  a  patch  of  black  ground  about 
two  hundred  yards  up  the  gulch,  jifst  begging 
to  be  hit.  Elevating  the  sights,  I  invited  the 
Other  Fellow  to  come  and  be  beaten  in  a  little 
shooting  match.  I  possess  divers  and  sundry 
gold  bars  and  other  gewgaws  for  my  supposed 
shooting  but  the  Other  Fellow-  refuses  to  be 
awed  thereby,  insisting  that  she  is  as  good  a 
shot  as  the  male  portion  of  the  family,  a  belief 
that  is  the  cause  of  contentions. 

The  little  rifle  cracked  and  the  slim  bullet 
went  whizzing  up  the  gulch  but  I  had  mis- 
judged the  distance.  A  puff  of  black  dust 
jetted  up  just  below  the  rock.  Elevating  the 
rear  sight  a  trifle  more  I  tried  again  and  this 
time  the  puff  of  white,  floury  dust  and  the 
ping-g-g  of  the  ricochetting  bullet  announced 
a  hit.  A  box  of  long  rifle  cartridges  joined 
the  great  army  of  the  fired  before  we  got  tired 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


443 


of  pounding  this  particular  rock,  but  the  little 
Marlin  pitched  the  bullets  in  as  regularly  as 
any  Krag  I  ever  shot  and  the  discomfort- 
ing recoil  was  absent. 

There  were  a  couple  of  empty  cans  left  in 
the  debris  of  our  feast  and  we  fell  back  on 
our  standby,  shooting  at  the  cans  thrown  into 
the  air.  Ever  try  it?  It  is  astonishing  how 
hard  it  looks  and  how  easy  it  is,  once  you  have 
the  hang  of  it,  and  I  know  of  nothing  in  the 
different  ramifications  of  small  rifle  shooting 
that  equals  this  for  fascination. 

Standing  about  twenty  feet  away,  the  Other 
Fellow  pitched  the  cans  about  ten  feet  into 
the  air,  while  by  the  rules  of  the  game,  drawn 
up  and  agreed  to  by  the  two  members  of  our 
little  shooting  club,  the  rifle  was  to  be  held  at 
the  hip  until  the  can  was  thrown.  Before  we 
realized  it,  two  boxes  of  shells  had  driven 
their  bullets  "pinging"  through  the  tinny 
targets,  although  there  were  a  few  shots  which 
didn't  materialize  the  "ping",  strange  to  say, 
most  likely  due  to  poor  ammunition,  as  we  told 
each  other. 

I  know  of  no  better  course  of  preparatory 
training  for  the  scatter  gun  campaign  you 
propose  waging  against  the  feathered  game, 
than  this  easily  learned  and  fascinating  flying- 
can   shooting. 

The  sun  was  getting  well  down  toward  the 
hills  over  to  the  west,  and  the  magical  time 
when  Brother  Cottontail  comes  out  of  his 
seclusion  to  play  tag  and  other  rabbit  games 
with  his  toothsome  companions,  was  at  hand. 
So  picking  up  what  little  we  had  left  to  carry, 
and  after  one  more  futile  attempt  on  my  part 
to  overlook  those  four  pesky  squirrels,  we  de- 
parted. 

We  climbed  up  on  the  top  of  the  ridge  above 
our  gulch  and  walked  quietly  along,  watching 
the  opposite  sides  of  the  draw  for  Bunny.  A 
few  minutes  later  a  fat  little  fellow,  disturbed 
in  his  play,  hopped  leisurely  along  the  patch 
of  clear  ground  ahead  of  us  and  stopped 
behind  a  little  bush,  under  the  impression  that  as 
long  as  we  couldn't  see  him  we  wouldn't  know 
where  he  was.  Alas,  poor  Bunny !  The  chair 
of  Applied  Logic  had  been  vacant  when  he 
attended  College  and  his  life  paid  for  this 
neglected  branch  of  his  education.  We  watched 
him  stop  behind  this  little  bush  and  five 
seconds  later  a  long  rifle  bullet  went  snipping 
through.  There  was  a  hollow  thud ;  a  dis- 
turbance and  two  or  three  pounds  of  sweet 
rabbit  meat  went  into  my  hunting  coat. 


At  the  head  of  the  gulch  we  ran  into  a 
rabbit  settlement  and  the  settlers  were  all  out 
on  the  common.  There  was  an  adjournment 
sine  die  as  our  shadows  fell  across  the  still 
sunlit  space  where  the  Cottontail  tribe  were 
assembled,  and  the  chairman  made  the  fatal 
mistake  of  running  up  the  hill  in  front  of  us. 
The  hill  was  too  steep  for  him  to  make  good 
progress  and  too  open  to  offer  any  cover.  The 
air  around  him  became  full  of  small  pieces  of 
lead  but  even  then  he  might  have  escaped, 
judging  by  the  quality  of  the  marksmanship 
I  was  putting  up,  except  from  the  fact  that 
he  did  not  have  sense  enough  to  stand  still.  He 
gave  a  convulsive  bound  that  carried  him  right 
in  the  path  of  a  bullet  which  would  have 
otherwise  missed  him  by  two  feet,  and  with  the 
plop  of  the  bullet,  darkness  fell  upon  him,  like- 
wise myself,  when  I  could  get  up  to  where  he 
was   lying. 

"Pretty  good  shooting,"  I  said  to  the 
Other  Fellow,  throwing  out  my  chest. 

"Yes"  she  replied,  "But  a  little  more  of 
such  good  shooting  and  we  won't  have  shells 
enough  to  last  us  over  to  the  car".  I 
magnanimously  over-looked  her  little  thrust 
and  filled  up  the  empty  magazine. 

It  was  getting  rather  dark  in  the  depths  of 
the  gulches  and  we  decided  to  bend  our  steps 
toward  the  car  line  and  civilization.  As  we 
walked  quietly  down  the  long  slope  which 
led  back  toward  the  car  line,  we  espied  three 
Cottontails  hopping  slowly  along  about  a 
hundred  yards  ahead  of  us  and  entirely  un- 
aware of  our  presence.  We  might  have  hit  one 
of  them  at  that  distance,  but  on  the  side  hill 
the  chances  were  aboue  ten  to  one  that  we 
wouldn't. 

The  Other  Fellow  took  the  gun  and  started 
around  a  little  clump  of  walnut  trees  which 
would  bring  her  out  with  thirty  yards  of  the 
quarry  below,  while  I  sat  down  to  watch  the 
sport  and  to  think  up  a  few  select  joshes  to 
spring  when  she  missed.  A  minute  later  a 
little  spurt  of  fire  jetted  out  in  the  gathering 
gloom  of  the  gulch,  one  of  the  rabbits  leaped 
into  the  air  like  a  scared  cat  and  then  rolled 
down  the  slope.  Another  ran  off  a  few  yards 
and  sat  down  to  see  what  ailed  his  companion. 
Again  the  rifle  spoke  and  he  crumpled  up  like 
a  rag.  I  hurried  down  the  slope  and  retrieved 
the  game  then  went  over  to  where  the  Other 
Fellow  stood  with  her  nose  in  the  air  (It  has 
a   slight   tendency  that  way,  anyhow). 

"Pretty  good  shooting"  she  said,  with  quota- 


444 


WESTERN  FIELD 


U"ii  marks  in  her  voice,  while  I  humbly  agreed, 
mentally  deciding  that  she  would  be  too  con- 
ceited  to  live   with   for  two  weeks  after. 

Fifty  yards  further  on  the  metallic  warning 
note  of  a  quail  sounded  through  the  stillness 
and  in  a  few  seconds  the  whole  covey  (lushed, 
scattering  up  the  sides  of  the  gulch  and  light- 
ing within  a  few  rods  with  a  contemptuous 
disregard  for  our  presence  that  was  madden- 
ing. My  fingers  twitched  and  the  little  rifle 
leaped  to  place,  covering  a  big  cock,  sailing 
across   the    gulch    with    a    devil-may-care    air. 

"It    is    not    you    who    curses    me,    but    the 


calendar"    quothc    I,    plagiarizing    old    Aesop, 
hut  the  time  for  revenge  was  not  far  away. 

Ten  minutes  later  we  arrived  where  rail  and 
wilderness  met  and  were  soon  climbing  aboard 
our  homeward  bound  car,  tired  and  happy. 
The  material  for  "whoppers"  anent  that 
wonderful  double  at  sixty  yards  was  missing. 
The  experiences  of  the  day  offered-  no  ground- 
work for  an  elaborate  fabrication  as  to  the 
way  we  killed  that  buck  just  as  he  was  clear- 
ing a  ten  foot  bush,  but  we  had  been  hunting. 
had  some  game,  were  rejuvenated  and  were 
coming  again. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


445 


VV/HAT  doth  it  matter  if  the  winds  blow  chill 
"       All  through  the  dreariness  of  shortening  days, 

And    sweep    far    down    the    forest's   lonesome    ways, 
And    chafe   the   russet   mead    and    rugged  .hill? 
Oh,  let   the  bleak  rude  tempests  have  their  will 

Of   mastery   which   the  helpless   leaf   obeys, 

And    fluttering    skyward    through    the    heavy    haze, 
Drops    down    to    earth    and    hastens    onward    still. 
Not   always   shall   broad   Heaven  appear  o'ercast 

And  vexed  with  rage  as  from  the  shores  of  Doom : 
Somewhere    kind    Fate    shall    meet    the    waif    at    last, 

Some  cranny,  nook  or  hedge  shall  give  it  room 
And   refuge  from   the  bluster  of  the  blast, 

Where  it  shall  foster  Spring  in   Nature's  womb. 


THE    regnant    power   of   hoary   Winte 
'       His  glory  gone,  his  mien  grows  U 

armth    pervades    the    atmosphere. 
And  soon  will  permeate  the  earth's  domains: 
A    few    brief    days,    and    fall    of    silvery    rain  s 

Will    haste    the    advent    of    the    quickening    y 

And  ere  we  know  once  more  will  Spring  app 
To  clothe  with  verdure  uplands,  wolds  and  plai 
Far    up    the    rock-bound    gorge    some   blossom    pale 

May    yield    its    beauty    to   the    Frost    King's   clasp 
Some    early    flower    far    dow'n    the    tranquil    dale 

May     fall     within    the    Winter's    struggling    grasp 
Ere   long   his   efforts   lessening   all    shall    fail: 

Spring  comes   in   time   to   catch   his  latest   gasp. 


446 


WESTERN  FIELD 


WESTERN  FIELD 


The  Sportsman's  Magazine  of  the  West 


official  organ 

The  California  Fish  and  Game  Pro- 
tective  Associations 


PUBLISHED   MONTHLY   BY 

THE  WESTERN  FIELD  COMPANY 

(incorporated) 

SAN  FRANCISCO.  CAL. 

Offices: 

609-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 

Registered  at   the  San   Francisco   Postoffice  as  Second- 
Class  Matter 

FRANK  H.  MAYER       ■      ■      •       Managing  Editor 


Matter  for  publication  should  be  addressed  "WEST- 
ERN FIELD."  MW-610  Mutual  Savings  Bank  Building. 
San  Francisco,  Cal..  and  not  to  individuals  connected 
with  the  magazine.  All  copy  for  new  advertisements, 
changes  or  discontinuances,  must  be  in  hand  not  later 
than  the  10th  of  the  month  preceding  date  of  issue,  in 
order  to  insure  attention. 


FOR  A  NON-SALE  LAW. 

In  the  name  of  the  People  of  California  we  de- 
mand at  the  hands  of  oar  Legislature,  at  its  next 
session,  the  enactment  and  embodiment  in  onr  game 
law  of  a  statutory  clanse  prohibiting  the  sale  in 
this  State  of  any  game  bird  of  any  description  what- 
soever, and  fixing  a  commensurate  penalty  for  any 
violation  thereof. 


IN    THE   NEW  YEAR 

THAT  the  new  year  just  ushered  in  will  be 
'  one  of  peace,  happiness  and  prosperity  to 
all  men  is  our  earnest  prayer.  In  the  past  sea- 
son of  bitter  adversity  we  have  all  been  chas- 
tened, and  now  better  things  are  coming  to  us 
by  right.  We  have  all  been  through  the 
crucible,  and  the  imperfections  of  humanity  in 
general  leave  but  few  individuals  even  the 
ghost  of  a  right  to  criticize  their  fellow  men 
or  sit  in  judgment  upon  them. 

The  Chinese  have  a  commendable  way  of 
calling  everything  square  at  the  end  of  the 
year,  and  beginning  life  over  again  with  a 
clean  slate.  It  is  a  custom  that  .should  be 
emulated  by   all  men,   irrespective  of   race  or 


class.  Life  is  too  short  to  harbor  resentment, 
and  the  man  who  enters  a  new  heat  with  the 
handicap  of  bitterness  on  his  shoulders  will 
run  neither  fast  nor  far. 

Of  course,  the  events  of  the  past  year  will 
have  a  great  influence  upon  our  actions  and 
policies  during  the  present  one.  The  hours  of 
trial  arc  the  ones  which  reveal  our  own  weak- 
nesses and  shortcomings  as  well  as  those  of 
our  neighbor.  lie  is  a  very  unfortunate  man 
who  has  not  learned  many  things  to  avoid  in 
the  New  Year ;  he  is  a  much  more  unfortunate 
•one  who  has  not  encountered  many  things 
that  it  will  be  good  to  emulate  and  adopt. 

We  should  always  remember  in  our  com- 
mendable egotism  that  the  other  fellow  has  a 
right  to  his  opinions;  that  no  man — not  even 
ourselves — is  infallible,  and  mistakes  of  the 
head  are  not  to  be  weighed  against  mistakes  of 
the  heart,  the  latter  of  which  are,  to  the  ever- 
lasting credit  of  humanity,  but  few  in  com- 
parison. In  the  new  year  let  us  be,  generous 
to  our  fellow  men  in  a  larger  degree.  Error 
is  not  always  sin  and  in  any  event  there  are 
mighty  few  of  us  who  have  the  moral  right 
to  cast  stones. 

Therefore,  in  the  New  Year,  peace  and 
good  will  to  all  men.  May  1908  bring  nothing 
but  amenities  and  joy — even  to  our  dearest 
foe,  the  game-hog,  to  whom  we  wish  nothing 
worse  than  the  pleasing  experiences  that  will 
make  a  good,  genuine  sportsman  out  of  him. 


SAUCE  FOR  THE  GANDER 

THE  worst  hypocrite  on  this  earth  is  the 
man  who  yelps  because  other  men  do  not 
observe  the  ethics  which  he,  himself,  violates 
habitually  and  continuously.  There  is  nothing 
more  pitiful  to  contemplate,  nothing  more 
nauseating  to  the  average  normal  man,  than 
the  spectable  of  a  crying  Pharisee  with  one 
hand  raised  protestingly  to  heaven  and  the 
other  in  the  pocket  of  the  public.  And  next 
to  this,  nothing  is  more  exasperating  and  less 
condonable  than  the  puerile  action  of  a 
judge  who  refuses  to  execute  the  law  upon 
one  criminal  simply  because  he  knows  that 
other  men  equally  as  guilty  have  not  been  in- 
dicted for  similar  offenses. 

And  be  it  said  with  sorrow  that  this  is  just 
the  existing  state  of  affairs  on  and  in  the 
vicinity  of  one  of  California's  greatest  duck 
marshes.  Owned  and  leased  largely  by 
wealthy  and   influential  clubs  and   individuals, 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


447 


all  of  whom  pose  as  real,  dyed-in-the-wool 
sportsmen  and  enthusiastic — nay,  even  drastic 
game  protectors — it  is  yet  the  scene  of  deliber- 
ate and  calloused  game  law  violations  almost 
incredible  of  association  with  the  mental, 
social  and  imputed  moral  status  of  the  perpe- 
trators. Of  course  there  are  many  notable 
and  sharply  defined  exceptions  to  the  rule;  ex- 
ceptions that,  however,  but  bitterly  accentuate 
the  reprehensibility  of  the  mass.  On  the  marsh 
in  question  are  many  preserve  owners  who 
stand  for  all  that  is  right,  decent  and  sports- 
manlike —  gentlemen  and  sportsmen  every 
atom.  These  will  logically  take  no  exception 
to  any  justly  penned  strictures  on  practices 
that  will  result  in  not  only  the  destruction  of 
the  common  pleasure  and  profit,  but  in  the  en- 
couragement of  crime  itself. 

These  practices  briefly  stated  are  first,  reck- 
less overshooting  :  second,  violation  of  the  bag 
limit ;  and  third,  violation  of  the  night  shoot- 
ing provision  of  the  statute.  To  the  personal 
knowledge  of  the  writer  certain  preserves  in 
the'  marsh  referred  to  have  been  shot  over 
daily,  almost  without  intermission,  despite  the 
unwritten  law  of  all  preserve  owners  that  at 
least  five  days  in  the  week  the  birds  should 
be  unmolested.  This  destroys  sanctuary  and 
the  birds  are  driven  permanently  from  the 
marsh,  the  selfishness  of  a  few  men — who 
should  and  do  know  better — thus  depriving 
every  one  else  of  sport  that  is  expensively  paid 
for  and  in  any  event  logically  due. 

Second,  the  bag  limit  is  continuously  ex- 
ceeded by  certain  parties,  whose  subterfuges 
to  get  around  the  law  will  avail  them  nothing 
if  they  persist  in  this  nefarious  practice.  It  is 
all  too  common.  And  last,  shooting  before 
and  after  the  legally  prescribed  hour  has  lie- 
come  a  positive  curse  to  the  whole  marsh. 
Long  before  daylight  and  far  after  the  sun- 
down hour  the  air  is  aflame  with  flashes  and 
the  harassed  birds  depart  to  return  no  more. 
These  are  the  violations  of  law  and  sportsman- 
ship that  have  worked  all  the  evil. 

The  other  day  two  foreigners  were  arrested 
by  deputies  of  the  State  Board  of  Fish  Com- 
missioners charged  with  trespass  on  posted 
grounds,  shooting  at  forbidden  hours,  and  for 
hunting  without  taking  out  the  necessary 
licenses.  They  were  haled  before  a  local  Dog- 
berry who  promptly  discharged  them — after 
viciously  berating  the  arresting  deputies  for 
their   honest,   conscientious   work — the   honor- 


ablef  !)  magistrate,  as  we  are  informed,  say- 
ing openly  from  the  bench  that  he  would  re- 
lease any  man  arrested  under  similar  condi- 
tions, because,  forsooth,  the  owners  of  the 
preserves  were  worse  violators  of  the  law  than 
were  the  two  malefactors  under  consideration. 
It  is  significant  that  not  one  of  the  preserve 
owners  brought  action  for  criminal  libel  or 
instituted  impeachment  proceedings  against  a 
man  who  was  indubitably  prostituting  and 
maladministering  the  duties  of  his  office. 
Were  they  afraid  that  they  would  be  shown 
up  in  their  true  colors?  And  in  this  connec- 
tion, why  did  not  the  Fish  Commission  officials 
take  a  change  of  venue  and  convict  the  offend- 
ers? They  have  secured  convictions  on  less 
direct  evidence  elsewhere. 

The  moral  of  the  whole  incident  is  that  what 
is  sauce  for  the  goose  is  sauce  for  the  gander. 
Of  course,  that  derelict  Justice  of  the  Peace 
should  be  fired  out  neck  and  crop  for  not  con- 
scientiously exercising  the  imperative  func- 
tions of  his  sworn  office,  but  all  the  same  we 
think  the  preserve  owners  should  keep  their 
own  skirts  immaculate  before  they  set  up  the 
cry  of  "Unclean!" 

It's  a  poor  rule  that  don't  work  both  ways. 
If  preserve  owners  expect  the  machinery  of 
the  law  to  be  set  in  motion  to  preserve  their 
rights,  they  should  consistently  obey  the  law 
themselves.  And  in  the  meantime,  it  is  sad 
to  note  that  what  with  illegal  poaching,  and 
very  reprehensible  practices  of  the  preserve 
owners,  there  are  no  longer  any  ducks  to  be 
shot  at.  The  law  of  inevitable  consequences 
has  gotten  in  its  fine  work. 

NEW  DEPARTURES 

COMMENCING  with  the  February,  1908, 
issue,  Western  Field  will  introduce  a 
number  of  new  and  interesting  departments  of 
vital  value  to  the  average  sportsman.  Among 
these  will  be  a  particularly  attractive  rifle,  j,un 
and  pistol  department  that  will  be  appreciated 
by  all  who  burn  gun  powder.  We  invite  ihe 
closest  attention  of  American  sportsmen  10 
these  departments,  feeling  that  in  their  close 
perusal  and  careful  consideration  a  great  and 
long  desired  benefit  will  accrue  to  all  who  use 
weapons  for  sport  or  necessity.  The  articles 
will  appeal  to  all,  and  all  sportsmen  are  in- 
vited to  contribute  their  personal  views  and 
criticisms. 


448 


WESTERS  FIELD 


California  Qame  and  Flsb  Laws  1907  1909 

i- residents 
,  be  carried  afield  and 
shown  on  demand. 

SALS  of  all  game  and  birds  prohibited  except  ducks,  geese 
and  brant. 


>  shoot  (fame  between  hall 
hour  alter  sunset  and  half  hour  before  sunrise;  or  to  net  or 
trap  any  game  animals  or  birds,  or  to  take  the  eggs  or  destroy 


:  Homed  Owl.  English  Sparrow.  Linnet.  Blue  Jay, 
Butcher  Bird  (Shrike)  and  such  fish  eating  birds  as  are  not 
mentioned  above. 

SHIPPING  GAME— All  game  and  fish  must  be  shipped  in 
open  view,  with  name  and  address  of  shipper. 

OPEN  SEASONS. 

DEER— (Bucks  only)  July  15  to  Oct.  1.     Limit  2  for  the 
season.     Dogs  can  only  be  used  for  trailing  wounded  deer. 


)ct.  15  to  Feb.  15. 
Mountain  Qua 
Doves— July  15  i 


Ducks— Oct.  l 
Wilson 

TREE  SQUIRREL— Sept 


L— Sept.  1  to  Feb.  15.  *Limit  25  per  day. 

i  Oct.  15.     Limit  25  per  day. 

Feb.  15.  Limit  35  per  day. 

C"  SNIPB— Oct.  15  to  April  1.     Limit  25 


Jan.   1.      Limit  12  f 


fish 


SALMON— Oct.    23   to    Sept     17    of    the    following    yea 
(Closed  above  tide  water  from  Oct.  23  to  Nov.  15J. 

TROUT  AND  Whitefish— (Hook  and  line  only),  May 
to  Nov.  IS.     Limit  50  fish  (but  not  to  exceed  25  lbs.) 
less  than  5  inches  in  length. 

STEELHEAD  TROUT--(Hook  and  line  only,)  May  1  to 
Sept.  17  and  Oct.  23  to  Feb.  1,  [April  is  also  an  open  month 
to  tide  water  ]    Limit  50  fish  not  less  than  5  inches  in  length. 

BLACK  BASS— (Hook  and  line  only, )  June   1  to  Jan.  1. 
Limit  SO  fish. 
Golden  Trout,  sturgeon  and  Sacramento  Perch 

—  NO  open  season. 

PENALTIES— Killing   Elk,    imprisonment    from 


;  killing  Does,    Fawns,    Antelope  1 


Mo 


Sheep, 


$S0  to  $500  or  imprisonment.  Violating  a 
$25  to  $500  or  imprisonment.  Violating  any  fish  law,  $20  to 
$500  or  imprisonment.  Using  any  explosives  for  killing  fish, 
$250  or  imprisonment.  Attempted  violation  punishable  same 
as  actual  violation. 


GAME  LAWS  IN  HANDY  FORM 

We  present  herewith  a  full  sized  cut  of  a  handsome 
aluminum  card,  issued  by  Western  rield  for  the 
benefit  of  Sportsmen,  which  gives  at  a  glance  a 
condensed,  yet  sufficiently  complete  resume  of  the 
game  laws  of  California. 

These  handsome  metal  cards — which  are  very  light 
and  of  a  convenient  size  to  carry  in  the  vest 
pocket — will  be  sent  to  anyone  free.  Simply  enclose 
two  cent  stamp  for  return  postage  and  same  will 
be  forwarded  without  delay.  Dealers  in  sporting 
goods  will  be  supplied  with  quantities  for  free  dis- 
tribution on  request.  Address  Western  Field  Co., 
609-10    Mutual    Savings    Bank    Building,    San    Fran- 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


President, 

H.    T.    Payne,    725     Baker    Street,     San     Francisco. 

Vice-Presidents, 

C.   L.   Powell,   Pleasanton;   Dr.   I.   W.   Hays,  Grass 

Valley;  A.  S.  Nichols,  Sierraville;  H.  W.  Keller,  Los 

Angeles,    and    Chase    Littlejohn,    Redwood    City. 

Executive  Committee — C.  W.  Hibbard,  San  Fran- 
cisco; W.  W.  Richards,  Oakland;  A.  M.  Barker,  San 
Jose;  Frank  H.  Mayer,  San  Francisco,  and  J.  H. 
Schumacher,    Los    Angeles. 


Mc 


nbership    Committee 
Correll,    Riverside, 


I.    A.    Mocker,    Capitola 
nd    R.    H.    Kelly,    Sant 


Committee  on  Legislation — H.  W.  Keller,  C.  W. 
Hibbard,  J.  B.  Hauer,  A.  R.  Orr,  and  W.  Scott  Way. 

Secretary-Treasurer. 
E.  A.   Mocker,   1316  Hayes  Street. 

County  Associations — Their  Secretaries  and  Ad- 
dresses: 

Alameda  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
—A.    L.    Henry,    Sec.-Treas.,    Livermore,    Cal. 

Alturas— R.  A.   Laird,  Sec,  Alturas,  Cal. 

Angels — Walter    Tryon,    Sec,    Angels    Camp,    Cal. 

Arroyo  Grande — S.  Clevenger,  Sec,  Arroyo 
Grande,    Cal. 

Auburn—  E.    A.    Francis,   Sec,   Auburn,   Cal. 

Boulder  Creek— J.  H.  Aran,  Sec,  Boulder  Creek, 
Cal. 

Audubon  Society  of  California — W.  Scott  Way, 
Sec,   Pasadena,   Cal. 

California  Rod  and  Gun  Club  Association— 316 
Mills    Building,    San    Francisco,   Cal. 

Chico,  ,  Sec,  Chico,  Cal. 

Cloverdale— C.    H.    Smith,    Sec,    Cloverdale,    Cal. 

Colusa— S.    J.    Gilmour,    Sec,    Colusa,    Cal. 

Corning — Mason    Case,    Sec,    Corning,    Cal. 

Covelo— H.    W.    Schutler,    Sec,    Covelo,    Cal. 

Deer  Creek— Jos.   Mitchell,  Sec,  Hot  Springs,  Cal. 

Fort    Bragg — Thos.    Burns,    Sec,    Fort    Bragg,    Cal. 

Fresno — D.    Dismukes,    Sec,    Fresno,    Cal. 

Grass  Valley— John  Mulroy,  Sec,  Grass  Valley, 
Cal. 

Healdsburg  F.  and  G.  P.  Ass'n— J.  H.  Kruse, 
Secretary,    Healdsburg. 

Hollister— Wm.  Higby,  Sec,  Hollister,  Cal. 

Humboldt— Julius    Janssen,     Sec,    Humboldt,    Cal. 

Jackson — O.     H.     Reichling,     Sec,     Jackson,     Cal. 

Kelseyville— Chas.   H.   Pugh,  Sec,  Kelseyville,  Cal. 

Kern  County— E.  F.  Pueschel,  Sec,  Bakersfield, 
Cal. 

Kings  County — S.  S.  Mullins,  Sec,  Hanford, 
Cal. 


Lakeport — B.    F.    Mclntyre,    Sec,    Lakeport,    Cal. 

Laytonville— J.    G.    Dill,   Sec,    Laytonville,    Cal. 

Lodi— Greer    McDonald,    Sec,    Lodi,    Cal. 

Lompoc — W.    R.    Smith,    Sec,    Lompoc,    Cal. 

Los  Angeles — L.    Herzog,   Sec,   Los   Angeles,   Cal. 

Madera — Joe    Bancroft,    Sec,    Madera,    Cal. 

Marysville — R.    B.    Boyd,   Sec,   Marysville,   Cal. 
Mendocino    City — O.     L.    Stanley,    Sec,    Mendocino 
City.   Cal. 

Mohawk  Valley  F.  and  G.  P.  Association— Fred 
King.   Sec.-Treas.,   Cleo,    Plumas   County. 

Monterey  County  Fish  and  Game  Protective  Ass'n 
—  B.    Ramsey,   Sec,   Monterey. 

Napa — W.  West,  Sec,  Napa,  Cal. 

Nevada  City — Fred  C.  Brown,  Sec,  Nevada  City, 
Cal. 

Oroville— G.  T.  Graham,  Sec,  Oroville,  Cal. 

Oxnard— Roy    B.    Witman,    Sec,    Oxnard,    Cal. 

Paso  Robles— T.  W.  Henry,  Sec,  Paso  Robles, 
Cal. 

Petaluma — Jos.    Steiger,    Sec,    Petaluma,    Cal. 

Pescadero — C.  J.   Coburn,   Sec,   Pescadero,   Cal. 

Porterville — G.    R.    Lumley,    Sec,    Porterville,    Cal. 

Quincy — T.     F.    Spooner,    Sec,    Quincy,    Cal. 

Red    Bluff— W.    F.    Luning,    Sec,    Red    Bluff,    Cal. 

Redding— Dr.    B.    F.    Belt,    Sec,    Redding,    Cal. 

Redlands— Robert    Leith,    Sec.    Redlands,    Cal. 

Redwood  City — C.  Littlejohn,  Sec,  Redwood  City, 
Cal. 

Riverside — Joe    Shields,    Sec.    Riverside,    Cal. 

San  Andreas — Will  A.  Dower,  Sec,  San  Andreas, 
Cal. 

San  Rafael— H.  E.  Robertson,  Sec,  San  Rafael, 
Cal. 

Santa   Ana — J.    W.    Carlyle,   Sec,   Santa   Ana,    Cal. 

Santa  Barbara — E.  C.  Tallant,  Sec,  Santa  Bar- 
bara,   Cal. 

San  Bernardino — F.  C.  Moore,  Sec,  San  Bernar- 
dino,   Cal. 

Santa   Clara — J.   H.    Faull,   Sec,   San  Jose,   Cal. 

Santa    Cruz — R.    Miller,    Sec,    Santa   Cruz,    Cal. 

San    Diego — A.    D.   Jordan,    Sec,    San    Diego,    Cal. 

San  Francisco  Fly  Casting  Club — F.  W.  Brother- 
ton,  Sec,  29  Wells-Fargo  Building,  San  Francisco, 
Cal. 

Sanger — H.    C.    Coblentz,    Sec,    Sanger,    Cal. 

Santa  Maria — L.  J.  Morris,  Sec,  Santa  Maria, 
Cal. 

Santa  Rosa — Miles  Peerman,  Sec,  Santa  Rosa, 
Cal. 

San  Luis  Obispo — H.  C.  Knight,  Sec,  San  Luis 
Obispo,    Cal. 

Salinas — J.   J.    Kelley,    Sec,   Salinas,    Cal. 

Selma— J.    J.    Vanderburg,    Sec.    Selma,    Cal. 

Sierra— Dr.    S.    H.    Crow,    Sec.   Sierraville,    Cal. 

Sierra  Co.,  F.  and  G.  Association — F.  B.  Sparks, 
Sec,    Loyalton,   Cal. 

Siskiyou — W.    A.    Sharp,    Sec,    Sisson.    Cal. 

Santa  Paula— Dr.  R.  L.  Poplin,  Sec,  Santa  Paula. 
Cal. 

Sacramento  County — A.  Hertzey,  Sec,  Sacramen- 
to,   Cal. 

Sonora — J.    A.    Van    Harlingen,    Sec,    Sonora,    Cal. 

Stockton— R.   L.   Quisenberry,  Sec,   Stockton,  Cal. 

Susanville— R.    M.    Rankin,    Sec,    Susanville,    Cal. 

Sutter  Creek — L.  F.  Stinson,  Sec,  Three  Rivers, 
Cal. 

Truckee  River  F.  and  G.  Ass'n — A.  F.  Schlumpf, 
Truckee,   Cal. 

Ukiah— Sam    D.     Paxton,    Sec,    Ukiah,    Cal. 

Vallejo— J.  V.  O'Hara,  Sec,  Vallejo,  Cal. 

Ventura— M.    E.    V.    Bogart,    Sec,    Ventura,    Cal. 

Visalia — Thomas  A.    Chaten,   Sec,   Visalia,  Cal. 

Watsonville— Ed    Winkle,    Sec,    Watsonville,    Cal. 

Willits— Chester   Ware,    Sec,    Willits,    Cal. 

Woodland— W.   F.  Huston,  Sec,  Woodland,  Cal. 

West  Berkeley— Charles  Hadlan,  Sec,  West  Ber- 
keley,   Cal. 

Yreka— F.    E.    Autenreith,    Sec,    Yreka,    Cal. 


45." 


WESTERS    FIELD 


Roscoe  Frost,  a  merchant  at  Pendleton,  Ore., 
southwest  of  Spokane,  engaged  in  an  encounter  with 
a  buck  deer  while  on  the  way  to  his  store  a  few 
days  ago.  He  paid  no  attention  to  the  animal  until 
it  bounded  toward  him  and  sent  him  sprawling  on 
the  ground.  He  regained  his  feet  and  grasped  the 
animal  about  the  horns  and  then  began  a  struggle 
that  lasted  half  an  hour.  Frost  was  rolled  and 
tossed  about  on  the  ground  and  his  clothing  torn. 
He  finally  managed  to  get  the  animal  into  a  nearby 
chicken  yard,  but  even  then  the  enraged  deer  tried 
to  get  at  him  and  was  within  a  few  inches  of  jumping 
over  the  high  wire  fencing.  The  deer  is  owned  by 
Louis  Anderson.  It  had  been  a  family  pet,  but  of 
late  had  become  vicious  and  Anderson  had  decided 
to  kill  it  for  a  Thanksgiving  dinner. 
*        * 

E.  E.  Hurst  and  Charles  Allsop.  who  spent 
several  weeks  hunting  with  Tom  Hopper,  left  for 
their  home  in  England  a  short  time  ago.  They  ex- 
pressed themselves  satisfied  with  their  trip  to  the 
Spokane  country  and  say  they  will  return  with  a 
larger  party  next  spring.  They  killed  three  bears  in 
the  foothills  near  Pleasant  Prairie  and  one  on  the 
Carter  place,  one  mile  northwest  of  Springdale,  in 
addition  to  getting  nine  lynx  near  the  headwaters  of 
Fernan  lake.  Idaho.  Owing  to  the  unexpected 
illness  of  Mrs.  Hopper,  the  men  were  forced  to  cut 
short  their  trip.  Hurst  was  arrested  on  the  charge 
of  hunting  deer  in  northern  Idaho,  but  it  was 
pointed  out  by  C.  H.  Potts,  county  attorney,  that  the 
young  Englishman  was  not  intentionally  guilty,  and 
he  was  discharged  by  paying  the  costs  of  the  case. 

*  *  * 
Mrs.  J.  O.  Naslin,  living  on  a  ranch  twelve  miles 
up  the  Columbia  from  Wenatchee,  Wash.,  west  of 
Spokane,  had  an  encounter  with  a  famished  coyote 
a  few  days  ago.  The  animal  had  crept  to  a  chicken 
coop  near  the  Naslin  home  and  awaited  an  oppor- 
tunity to  spring  upon  an  unwary  pullet.  Mrs.  Xaslin 
saw  the  animal  and,  taking  a  revolver  from  the  house, 
crept  to  the  rear  and  fired  two  shots  point  blank  at 
the  animal.  The  bullet  did  not  dispatch  it  however, 
and  with  a  wild  agonized  cry  the  coyote  sprang  at 
the  woman.  Xaslin  heard  his  wife's  cry  and  went  to 
the  rescue.  Armed  with  a  pitchfork  he  made  a 
lunge  and  pinned  the  animal  to  the  ground,  after- 
wards killing  it.  Five  coyotes  were  seen  near  the 
premises   after   the   two   shots   were   fired. 


The  Record  Striped  Bass  caught  at  San  Pablo  Bay  Nov. 

13 — *07  by  H.  Bra  use  and  Fred  Murray.    Length  47'  E 

inches.  Girth  40  inches.  Weight 41  lbs. 

The  Yakima  Game  Protective  Association  at  an 
executive  meeting  at  North  Yakima,  Wash.,  west  of 
Spokane,  decided  to  buy  twenty-four  dozen  Bob 
Whites  and  one  hundred  pairs  of  Chinese  pheasants 
for  propagation  purposes.  The  quail  will  cost  from 
$S  to  $10  a  dozen  and  the  pheasants  $5  and  $6  a 
pair.  They  will  be  delivered  next  spring  and  will  be 
protected  for  an  indefinite  period. 
*        *        *. 

While  hunting  quail  on  Hog  Island,  a  marshy  tract 
in  the  Clearwater  river  opposite  -East  Lewiston,  Ida., 
southeast  of  Spokane,  Thomas  Tabor  and  Albert  C. 
Metzmire  shot  a  large  lynx,  which  they  will  have 
mounted.  The  animal  measures  five  feet  and  the 
skin  is  beautiful.  The  men  rowed  over  to  the  island 
for  a  quail  hunt  and  in  going  through  the  thick 
grass  they  came  upon  the  animal,  which  was  skulking 
through  the  grass.  Several  shots  were  required  to 
kill    the    big   cat. 


9 

NORTHWEST 
DEBUtTMENT 

in 

Conducted   by   AUGUST  WOLF 


I  ETHER  the  waters  be  public  or 
private,  the  state  has  the  right,  if 
fish  are  wont  to  resort  in  such 
waters  to  spawn,  to  protect  them, 
and,  consequently,  to  enforce  the 
laws  against  the  pollution  of  the 
water     by     the     refuse     from     th'e 


till* 


Such,  in  brief,  is  the  ruling 
given  by  Attorney -General  Atkin- 
son in  an  opinion  to  R.  Rief, 
game  warden  of  King  county,  who 
sought  to  prevent  the  pollution  with  sawdust  of 
Echo  lake,  a  private  body  of  water,  not  meandered 
by  the  government.  Mr.  Atkinson's  opinion  follows 
in  part : 

"By  the  way  of  information  the  attorney-general 
suggests  that  he  is  satisfied  that  the  state  has  such 
control  over  the  lake  in  question,  even  though  it  be 
non-navigable  and  unmeandered,  as  to  prevent  its  pol- 
lution by  the  refuse  from  the  sawmill,  if  it  is  a 
place  where  fish  resort  to  spawn.  In  Griffith  vs. 
Holman,  23  Wash.  347,  p.  358,  the  Supreme  Court 
of  this  state  speaking  of  the  rights  of  the  owners 
of  lands  upon  which  are  non-navigable  waters,  said: 
"  'It  is  true  that  the  legislature  of  the  state  has 
passed  laws  regulating  fishing,  has  made  close  sea- 
sons, and  provided  a  -penalty  for  persons  killing 
fish  by  use  of  dynamite  or  other  explosives.  It  is 
also  true  that  fish  are  ferae  naturae,  and  that  their 
habitat  is  not  entirely  local,  hence  it  might  be 
thought  that  no  property  in  fish  could  vest  in  the 
owner  of  the  land ;  but  it  is  ownership  subject  to 
the  rights  of  the  public,  and  must  be  exercised  with 
due  consideration  for  the  nature  of  the  property, 
and  exercised  only  when  the  fish  are  upon  the  land 
of  the  owner.  In  accordance  with  this  view,  it  was 
held  in  State  vs.  Roberts,  59  N.  H.  256,  that,  while 
the  right  of  fishery  in  waters  not  navigable  was 
limited  to  the  riparian  owner  of  the  soil,  and  be- 
longed exclusively  to  him,  yet  this  right  in  the 
owner  of  the  land  must  be  regarded  as  qualified  to 
a  certain  extent  by  the  universal  principle  that  all 
property  is  held  subject  to  those  general  regulations 
which  are  necessary  to  the  common  good  and  gen- 
eral   welfare,    and    to    that    extent    it    was    subject    to 


legislative  control ;  that  it  is 
ciple  that  every  person  shall  sc 
property,  however  absolute  ar 
that  his  use  of  it  shall  not  bt 
enjoyment  of  others  having 
enjoyment  of  their  property, 
rights  of  the  public*  " 


well  established  prin- 
use  and  enjoy  his  own 

d  unqualified  his  title, 
injurious  to  the  equal 

in  equal  right  to  the 
nor    injurious    to    the 


Ludwig    Roper,   deputy   game   warden   for   Kootenai 
county,    who    attended   the   convention    of   state   game 


wardens  at  Boise,  Ida.,  reports  that  the  next  con- 
vention will  be  at  Coeur  d'Alene,  thirty-four  miles 
east  of  Spokane,  next  fall.  He  said  it  was  decided 
that  the  state  should  establish  two  more  hatcheries 
other  than  the  one  recently  decided  upon  in  ihc 
Wood  river  country.  It  was  determined  one  of 
these  should  be  located  in  the  southeastern  part  of 
the  state,  and  the  other  in  the  north.  The  hatcheries 
must  be  located  on  fresh  running  water  at  a  point 
where  the  water  will  be  free  from  the  liability  of 
the  erection  of  a  saw  mill  plant  or  the  discovery  of 
mines,  allowing  refuse  to  float  down  upon  the 
hatchery. 

It  was  reported  that  the  game  licenses  and  fines 
doubled  those  of  last  season.  It  was  determined  to 
stock  all  of  the  lakes  and  running  streams  in  the  state 
with  Bear  Lake  trout,  which  are  claimed  to  be  the 
best  flavored  fish  to  be  found  in  the  northwest.  It  was 
also  decided  to  stock  the  woods  with  pheasants, 
which  would  be  purchased  with  that  end  in  view. 

"It  was  reported  that  grouse  and  sage  hens  were 
decreasing  rapidly,"  he  added,  "and  that  they  were 
becoming  extinct  in  many  counties,  due  to  the  large 
herds  of  sheep  feeding  off  the  grass.  Large  game 
of  all  kinds  was  reported  to  be  on  the  increase.  It 
recommended  that  quail  in  Kootenai  county  and  in 
the  state  at  large  be  protected  for  three  years,  and 
it  was  decided  to  protect  the  bears,  inasmuch  as 
scores  of  hunters  went  through  the  woods  and 
slaughtered  them  when  their  skins  were  absolutely 
worthless.  It  was  determined  to  give  them  a  season 
at  other  game.  A  bill  will  be  presented  at  the  next 
legislature  for  its  enactment  into  law,  incorporating 
the  foregoing  recommendations. 


The  Spokane  Rifle  and  Revolver  Club  has  ar- 
ranged a  series  of  shoots  for  the  coming  winter 
which  make  Spokane  the  most  prominent  in  rifle 
shooting  in  the  Pacific  Northwest.  The  club  has 
decided  upon  a  program  which  includes  a  series 
of  twelve  medal  and  prize  shoots  on  the  second  and 
fourth  Sundays  of  each  month,  ending  April  23d. 
The  decisions  as  to  the  winning  of  the  shoot  for  the 
year  will  not  be  taken  from  any  one  day,  but  will 
be  made  from  a  summary  of  all  shoots.  That  no 
member  may  be  handicapped  by  missinj  a  shoot  and 
thus  losing  his  score  entirely  for  that  day  in  the 
totals,  it  has  been  decided  to  count  the  best  seven 
scores  out  of  the  twelve  scores  made  by  each 
marksman  and  to  take  this  total  for  the  decision. 
Shooters  will  be  classified  as  to  their  known  ability 
and  placed  into  one  of  the  following  classes:  Cham- 
pion, first  and  second.  This  classification  will  apply 
to     the     pistol,     levolver     and     rifle     matches       This 


452 


WESTERS'  FIELD 


classification  is  adopted  so  that  the  shooters  in  either 
the  first  or  second  class  will  win  prizes  equal  in 
value  to  the  champion  class.  A  large  number  of 
handsome  prizes  have  already  been  donated  by  the 
various  powder,  arms  and  ammunition  companies  anj 
include  such  valuable  prizes  as  handsome  rifles,  re- 
volvers and  loving  cups.  The  "king  shoot"  will  be 
the  big  event  of  the  year  and  the  winner  will  be 
declared  and  crowned  "king"  of  the  club,  which  title 
he  holds  for  the  year,  as  well  as  winning  a  diamond 
medal. 

*        *        * 

With  a  fund  of  $1200  available  for  that  purpose, 
THomas  Mullen,  game  warden  for  Yakima  county, 
Wash.,  west  of  Spokane,  is  preparing  to  purchase 
birds  for  propagation.  The  game  in  Yakima  county 
is  becoming  scarce,  and  unless  some  means  are  taken 
to  increase  the  supply,  it  is  realized  that  the  county 
will  have  little  attraction  for  nimrods.  Mr.  Mullen 
is  inclined  to  look  favorably  upon  a  proposition  to 
invest  part  of  the  fund  in  Chinese  pheasants,  which 
are   considered    to   be   desirable   game. 


Nine  Mongolian  pheasants  and  two  pairs  of  Eng- 
lish pheasants,  that  were  recently  purchased  by  the 
board  of  commissioners  of  Stevens  county,  Wash., 
north  of  Spokane,  out  of  the  game  fund  to  be  dis- 
tributed throughout  the  country  for  the  purpose  of 
propagation  of  game  birds,  escaped  from  the  coops 
kept  near  the  court  house  at  Colville.  By  some 
means  the  wire  netting  was  torn  loose  from  the 
sides  of  the  coop  and  the  pheasants  flew  in  all  direc- 
tions. 

*        *        * 

Sportsmen  of  Okanogan  county.  Wash.,  have  or- 
ganized a  rod  and  gun  club  at  Loomis.  While  the 
genera]  purpose  is  sport,  the  primary  object  is  the 
protection  of  game  and  the  importation  for  propa- 
gation  of  fish  and  game  birds.     A  large  shipment   of 


bass  and  rainbow  trout  has  been  secured  from  gov- 
ernment hatcheries,  and  it  is  planned  to  import 
Bob  White  quail  and  pheasants  to  the  list  of  game 
birds  common  to  the  locality. 


Did  you  ever  fight  an  enraged  cougar?  Charles 
W.  Cox,  a  rancher  at  Peone,  Wash.,  a  few  miles 
north  of  Spokane,  did.  He  won  out  and  the  auditor 
of  Spokane  county  was  so  pleased  over  the  feat  that 
he  handed  the  man  behind  the  gun  a  bright  five- 
dollar  gold  piece  as  bounty  for  the  destruction  of 
the  animal,  which  weighed  200  pounds. 

Cox  does  not  lay  claim  to  being  an  expert  with 
firearms,  but  when  a  few  mornings  ago  he  was 
aroused  from  his  slumbers  by  the  baying  of  his 
hounds  to  warn  him  that  a  marauder  had  wandered 
into  his  barn-yard,  he  took  down  the  trusty  piece 
and  filled  the  magazine  with  .44  cartridges,  taking 
up  the  trail  to  Old  Baldy,  where  the  cougar  was 
located   in    a  tree  up  the  mountain   side. 

Two  hours  he  waited  till  the  first  glint  of  the  sun 
shot  over  the  peak  and  then  he  took  long  aim  and 
fired,  the  heavy  bullet  striking  the  animal  in  the 
nose.  Enraged  to  a  fury  and  howling  with  pain  the 
animal  sprang  toward  the  ranchman,  who  sent  an- 
other ball  at  the  leaping  cougar,  striking  it  in  the 
mouth  and  tearing  out  a  piece  of  its  tongue. 

When  the  animal  struck  the  ground  the  dogs  fell 
upon  it,  but  the  cougar  was  game,  striking  out  right 
and  left  with  its  paws  and  clawing  the  hounds  as 
well  as  the  rancher.  Cox  tried  to  use  his  knife,  but 
it  was  whisked  out  of  his  hand.  In  the  tussle  that 
followed  Cox's  coat  was  torn  to  ribbons,  but  he 
managed  to  reach  his  gun  and  the  third  shot  laid 
the   cougar  low. 

The  animal's  skin  was  so  badly  torn  it  could  not 
be  preserved,  but  Auditor  Greene  officially  recog- 
nized the  head  and  handed  the  hunter  the  bounty 
provided   by  the  county  for  its  destruction. 


THE  MILITARY  RIFLE 


By  "Smallahms" 


E  fine  day. 

some  five  o 

years     ago, 

a     numbe 

gentlemen 

with    their 

want  of  son 

lething  bett 

■ix  hundred 
of  English 
ainers,  for 
to  do,  were 
indulging  in  the  harmless  pastime 
of  trying  to  jab  ten  foot  lances 
through  an  equal  number  of  French 
gentlemen,  who  were  troubled  by  the 
same  complaint  of  time  hanging 
heavily  on  their  hands.  The  under- 
lings were  merrily  hacking  away 
at  each  other,  varying  the  sport  by 
shooting  deadly  arrows  when  the  chopping  business 
grew  monotonous,  and  everything  was  going  as  hap- 
pily as  a  June  morning  wedding. 

Suddenly  one  of  the  English  retainers  appeared 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  fray  with  a  strange  looking 
machine.  It  was  a  long  iron  tube  about  an  inch 
or  more  in  diameter,  with  a  rough  wooden  stock 
affixed.  Where  the  tube  joined  the  stock  there  were 
various  protuberances  and  the  whole  was  mounted  on 
a  sort  of  tripod.  The  low  villain  with  the  machine 
set  it  up,  pointed  it  in  the  direction  of  the  French 
knights,  and  then  looking  along  this  tube,  touched 
a  glowing  piece  of  tinder  to  the  rear  end  of  the 
tube. 

There  was  a  loud  bang,  a  cloud  of  sulphurous  and 
ill-smelling  smoke  and  the  villain  turned  divers  and 
sundry  somersaults.  A  round  piece  of  iron  whizzed 
through  the  air  and  smote  Sir  Louis  de  Castelbac 
fair  upon  his  scarred  and  well  tried  breast  plate, 
which  had  turned  away,  harmless,  arrows  without 
number,  blows  enough  to  chop  down  a  forest  and 
even  the  heavy  quarrels  from  the  Flemish  cross- 
bows. Sir  Louis  fell  from  his  horse  deader  than 
the  famed  herring  and  the  age  of  chivalry  was 
over.  The  greatest  agent  of  civilization  ever  known 
had    entered    the    field. 

If  a  modern  Springfield,  Model,  1903,  should 
meet  this  ancient  peace  maker  from  the  field  of 
Crecy,  and  be  told  that  this  crude  and  barbarous 
specimen  was  its  ancestor  by  direct  descent,  the 
mortified  Springfield  would  undoubtedly  refuse  to 
recognize  the  old  gentleman,  and  point  to  the  fact 
that  there  was  absolutely  no  family  resemblance  to 
substantiate  the  claims  of  the  old  firearm  to  kinship. 
It  would  not  be  necessary  to  go  back  many  genera- 
tions to  find  an  arm  which  looks  enough  like  the 
old  gentleman  from  Crecy  to  establish  the  relation- 
ship. From  the  time  of  the  first  -  introduction  of 
firearms  to  the  time  of  our  great  Civil  War,  prog- 
ress in  military  firearms  was   practically  nil. 

They  were  refined  a  little,  very  little,  so  that  they 
could  be  carried  about  from  place  to  place.  The 
method     of     discharging    the     arms    was    changed     as 


the  centuries  rolled  by,  from  match-lock  to  wheel- 
lock,  from  wheel-lock  to  flint-lock,  and  then  to  the 
percussion  cap  musket  with  which  the  heroes  of  the 
American   Civil   War  slaughtered   each  other. 

It  took  about  as  long  to  load  one  of  the  Civil 
War  muskets  as  it  did  one  of  the  old  wheel-locks 
or  match-locks  of  two  hundred  years  before.  They 
were  a  little  more  accurate  and  a  little  less  liable 
to  miss  fire,  but  aside  from  these  minor  differences 
and  a  little  change  in  general  outline,  the  muskets  of 
the  Civil  War  were  first  cousins  to  the  clumsy 
machine  which  bellowed  forth  its  greeting  and  de- 
fiance to  the  assembled  chivalry  of  two  nations  at 
the  battle  of  Crecy,  five  hundred  years  before. 

It  is  strange  that,  fond  of  fighting  as  our  ancestors 
were,  some  one  did  not  devise  an  arm  which  would 
be  an  improvement  on  the  clumsy,  crude  weapon 
with  which  they  fought  their  battles.  The  only 
changes  made  were  those  which  necessity,  not  genius 
suggested.  In  other  lines  progress  was  steady.  The 
magnificent  "Constitution"  bore  no  resemblance  to 
the  caravels  of  Columbus  save  for  the  fact  that  the 
wind  moved  both  the  Constitution  and  the  Spanish 
cockboats,  and  that  sails  were  therefore  a  necessity 
on  both  sorts  of  ships.  Advances  were-  made  in 
mechanics,  in  printing,  in  transportation  and  all  the 
other  accompaniments  of  civilization,  but  the  arms 
with  which  the  world's  battles  were  fought  remained 
the    same. 

It  is  possible  that  this  was  a  most  excellent  thing. 
If  the  ever  quarrelsome  French  and  English  people 
had  been  armed  with  modern  magazine  Springfields 
with  their  terrible  continuous  fire,  backed  up  by 
the  automatic  machine  guns  of  the  Maxim  pattern, 
it  is  a  question  whether  the  veracious  tale  of  the 
Kilkenny  cats  would  not  have  been  carried  out  on  a 
larger  scale  by  the  two  nations;  and  the  Irish  at  the 
present  day,  living  in  what  used  to  be  England, 
would  not  be  glowering  across  the  Channel  at  the 
Germans,  occupying  what  used  to  be  France.  A 
wise  Providence  seems  to  keep  the  destructive  pro- 
clivities of  nations  in  inverse  ratio  to  their  in- 
ventive genius.  Something  like  the  small  boy  who, 
when  not  able  to  do  so  is  possessed  of  a  most  burn- 
ing desire  to  thrash  his  teacher,  but  who  when  he 
grows  up  and  gets  the  power  necessary,  finds  the 
desire  missing. 

The  devices  for  warfare  and  killing  have  been 
brought  to  a  stage  of  perfection  almost  unbelievable 
but  peace  has  never  seemed  more  precious  and  de- 
sirable than  at  the  present  time.  The  power  is 
here  but  the  desire  is  mostly  missing.  Two  hundred 
years  ago  the  desire  for  war  and  fighting  was 
always  present,  but  the  power  and  appliances  to 
accomplish   much   were   missing. 


454 


M7.s/7A\Y   in  hi  A) 


The  BltUghter  of  our  Civil  War  was  horrifying 
ami  not  equalled  ha  the  world's  history,  mainly 
because  it  was  between  the  two  finest  armies  made  up 
of  the  finest  fighters  that  ever  faced  each  other 
across  a  battle  field,  and  not  on  account  of  the 
destructive  power  of  the  weapons  used.  The  question 
arises  whether,  if  the  armies  of  the  North  and  South 
had  been  armed  with  arms  of  the  present  day,  the 
losses"  would  have  been   greater  or  less. 

The  facts  are  in  favor  of  the  former  hypothesis. 
The  Northerners  and  Southerners — as  is  always  the 
case  when  brothers  quarrel — fought  far  more 
viciously  than  would  have  been  the  case  had  the 
foe  been  a  foreign  one,  and  the  rival  fighters 
seemed  to  be  ever  possessed  of  the  idea  that  the 
best  way  to  fight  was  at  arms  length — with  the 
bayonet  and  clubbed  gun.  Now,  when  one  army  is 
holding  a  strong  position,  is  equipped  with  modern 
magazine  rifles  and  supported  by  automatic  machine 
guns,  another  army  to  come  to  close  quarters  will 
have  to  leave  fully  half  of  its  men  on  the  field, 
probably  more,  before  it  can  arrive  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  the  enemy's  position — and  yet  here  the 
slaughter    is    only    fairly    commenced. 

It  is  a  mighty  lucky  thing  that  our  fathers  and 
grandfathers  some  forty  years  ago  did  not  have 
these  up  to  date  weapons.  Otherwise  the  census  of 
the  United  States  could  be  taken  in  about  half  the 
time  that  is  now  required.  It  might  be  argued  that, 
with  the  increased  range  and  effectiveness  of  the 
modern  rifle,  the  tactics  would  have  been  changed 
and  that  the  percentage  of  losses  would  have  been 
about  the  same;  but  the  old  Berserker  rage  that 
sent  Pickett's  men  charging  up  the  slopes  of  Gettys- 
burg in  face  of  a  superior  force,  well  placed,  would 
not  have  been  satisfied  to  lie  a  thousand  yards  away 
from  the  enemy,  tinkering  with  wind  gauges  and 
killing  the  other  fellows  with  scientific  accuracy  when 
they  were  too   far   away   to   be   seen. 

After  the  Civil  War  some  genius  evolved  the 
scheme  of  cutting  off  the  breech  ends  of  the  old 
muzzle  loading  Springfields  and  Enfields  and  attach- 
ing a  clumsy  breech  bolt  thereto,  turning  the  rifle 
into  a  sort  of  half-baked  breech  loader,  and  for 
twenty  years  after  the  War,  through  long  and  severe 
Indian  campaigns,  our  troops  were  armed  with  these 
hybrid  mule  breech  loading  rifles. 

Civilian  arms  steadily  improved  after  the  war, 
ti.e  first  practicable  repeater,  the  Henry,  appearing 
not  long  after  the  surrender  at  Appomattax  and 
was  rapidly  improved  into  the  Winchester,  while  other 
arms  companies  were  vying  with  each  other  in  turning 
'out  fine  rifles;  but  the  Army  steadily  plodded  along 
with  the  good  old  single  shot,  unreliable  Spring- 
fields.  The  Ordinance  Boards  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  making  of  these  improved  civilian  rifles,  ergo 
.  they  were  no  good  and  the  troops  must  needs  be 
content  with  the  Springfield.  The  heathen  Sioux — 
uncivilized— had  no  ordnance  boards,  and  in  their 
ignorance  proceeded  to  buy  the  best  rifles  they  could 
lay  their  hands  on,  with  which  to  stand  off  our  long 
suffering  soldiers.  Hence  the  lovely  spectacle  pre- 
srnted  itself  of  the  troops  of  a  highly  civilized 
nation,  famed  for  its  mechanical  ability  and  in- 
genuity, armed  with  archaic  single  shot  rifles,  and 
pitted  against  half  naked  Indians  who  were  equipped 
with    repeating    rifles   of   the   latest    pattern. 

One    lovely    summer    morning,     some    thirty    years 


ago  one  of  our  bravest  generals,  with  a  handful  of 
the  Seventh  Cavalry,  bravely  but  foolishly — con- 
sidering the  rifles  with  wl.ch  they  were  to  fight — 
ran  into  a  hornet's  nest  of  Sioux  on  the  Little  Big 
Horn  River.  An  hour  or  two  later,  the  green  slopes 
of  the  river  bottom  were  dotted  with  blue-clad, 
motionless  figures,  our  brave  general  among  them, 
sacrificed  to  the  old-fogeyism  and  red  tape  of  the 
musty  boards  whose  duty  it  was  to  pass  on  the  arms 
issued   to    the    soldiers. 

If  Custer's  men  had  been  armed  with  the  modern 
Springfield — the  same  rifle  in  name  but  unlike  the 
old  Springfield  in  all  other  respects — there  is  no 
question  but  that  they  could  have  fought  their  way 
out  of  the  red  waves  of  yelling  demons  which  sur- 
rounded them,  and  more  Indians  would  have  been 
turned  to  ways  of  righteousness  through  the 
evangelizing  agency  of  a  bullet  than  ever  were 
converted  before.  If  Custer's  men  had  been  armed 
with  even  the  old  repeaters  of  that  date,  they  could 
have  fought  their  way  out.  The  soldiers  could 
outshoot  the  Indians;  about  this  there  can  be  no 
dispute  as  no  Western  Indian  ever  yet  proved  him- 
self to  be  a  good  shot;  and  given  the  rapidity  of  fire 
of  the  repeaters,  the  charging  Sioux  would  have 
abandoned  their  amusement   muy  pronto. 

To  use  the  old  Springfield,  the  following  opera- 
tions were  necessary:  The  shot  fired,  the  hammer 
had  to  be  cocked,  the  breechbolt  snapped  open, 
(whicn  sometimes  ejected  the  shell  and  other  times 
did  not,  necessitating  the  fumbling  around  with  a 
knife  or  other  instrument  to  get  out  the  exploded 
case.)  Then  the  new  shell  was  inserted  into  the 
chamber,  the  breech  bolt  closed  and  the  gun  ready 
to  fire  again.  In  this  time  a  man  with  a  repeater 
could  fire  four  or  five  aimed  shots.  Custer's  men, 
according  to  the  report  of  the  few  survivors,  had 
much  trouble  with  the  shells  refusing  to  eject. 
Imagine  being  out  in  the  open,  with  three  or  four 
thousand  yelling  Sioux  riding  around  and  pouring 
in  their  volleys,  and  having  to  stop  and  fiddle  with 
defective  shells  which  would  not  eject!  This  object 
lesson  was  entirely  lost  on  the  officials  in  Wash- 
ington, wandering  around  in  their  forest  of  red  tape, 
and  the  troops  continued  to  fight  with  the  old  slow 
fire  clumsy  Springfield,  Sioux  and  Apaches  who  were 
armed   with   nine  shot    repeaters. 

About  1890  the  Government  finally  woke  up,  mainly 
because  the  Springfields  were  wearing  out  and  it  was 
just  about  as  easy  to  make  a  different  pattern  of 
rifle  as  to  make  a  lot  of  new  Springfields.  The 
military  lifle  experts  of  the  world  had  been  searching 
for  an  arm  which  would  give  increased  penetration 
and  flatter  trajectory  with  ammunition  of  lighter 
weight,  thus  enabling  troops  to  carry  a  bigger  supply 
of  ammunition  than  was  possible  with  the  old  style 
equipment.  The  improvement  in  smokeless  powder 
offered  the  necessary  increased  initial  velocity,  the 
small  bore  rifle,  .30  calibie  or  under,  offered  the 
desired  lighter  weight  ammunition,  and  a  gun  was 
evolved  with  a  long  slim  bullet  which  would  give 
great  penetration  and  flat  trajectory.  Then,  to 
keep  the  long  bullet  point  on  it  was  necessary  to 
have  a  very  quick  twist.  When  it  came  to  firing 
the  lead  bullets  through  a  barrel  with  a  ten  inch 
twist,  with  a  charge  of  smokeless  powder  sufficient  to 
give  the  desired  velocity,  it  was  found  that  the 
bullet     would     not     stand     the     pressure     but     would 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


455 


merrily  disregard  the  rifling,  go  straight  through  the 
gun  and  pursue  its  erratic  course  with  much  wab- 
bling   and    inaccuracy. 

To  meet  this  problem  the  bullet  was  covered  with 
a  tough  jacket  which  would  take  the  rifling  and  hang 
on.  The  first  bullets  were  mafle  with  a  steel  jacket, 
but  it  was  found  that  the  life  of  the  rifle  with  this 
steel  jacket  was  less  than  a  thousand  rounds  so  that 
the  later  bullets  were  turned  out  with  a  copper- 
nickel  jacket,  giving  the  necessary  toughness  with 
less  wear  on  the  rifle.  These  bullets  also  gave 
wonderful  penetration,  another  desirable  feature 
from  a  military  stand-point.  To  use  this  ne,w  am- 
munition, the  U.  S.  Government  finally  adopted  the 
Krag-Jorgenson  .30  calibre  repeater — a  most  excel- 
lent gun — and  the  old  Springfields  were  relegated 
to  the  scrap  heap  which  had  been  yawning  for  them 
for  many  a  year,  or  to  the  Militia — which  amounted 
to   the   same   thing. 

The  change  from  the  old  large  calibre,  black 
powder,  single  shot  Springfield  to  the  Krag-Jorgen- 
son was  the  greatest  step  in  advance  that  had  ever 
been  taken,  with  the  exception  of  the  change  from 
flint  lock  to  the  use  of  percussion  powders.  The 
new  ammunition  weighed  about  half  as  much  as  the 
old  .45  calibre  food  for  the  Springfield,  and  a 
soldier  could  carry  double  the  amount  that  he  had 
formerly  been  able  to  tote  around.  With  its 
terrific  initial  velocity  errors  in  sighting  were  less 
costly,  and  a  soldier  in  the  excitement  of  battle 
could  blaze  away  at  an  enemy  five  hundred  yards 
away  with  his  sights  set  at  point  blank  with  a  fair 
chance  of  hitting,  and  the  reverse  was  true;  that  if 
the  sights  were  set  for  a  distance  two  or  three 
hundred  yards  beyond  the  true  distance  of  the  enemy, 
the  bullets  would  still  be  effective.  There  was  no 
smoke  to  give  away  the  position  of  hidden  skirmish- 
ers, and  mucn  less  noise  and  recoil  than  was  ex- 
perienced  with   the  old   black  powder   gun. 

But  what  a  wail  went  up  from  the  expert  target 
shots  when  the  Krags  were  placed  in  their  hands. 
The  old  Springfield  with  its  heavy  bullet  and  com- 
paratively slow  flight  was  a  most  excellent  gun  for 
shooting  at  targets  over  measured  distances.  The 
short  heavy  bullet  disregarded  the  stray  puffs  of 
wind  and  pursued  its  course  with  no  deviation  from 
its  true  line  of  flight,  being  of  course  acted  upon 
by  steady  winds  of  eight  miles  or  more  per  hour. 
But  the  Krag  bullet  only  weighed  220  grains — about 
half  the  weight  of  the  old  bullet ;  its  long  slim 
form  offered  as  much  surface  to  a  cross  wind  as  the 
old  bullet,  without  the  weight  to  keep  it  steady.  The 
wind  played  hob  with  the  light  bullet  anu  it  was 
necessary  for  the  military  sharps  to  learn  their 
wind  lessons  all  over  again.  This  was  not  the  worst 
feature  of  the  game.  With  the  old  Springfield  and 
its  soft  bullet,  any  departure  from  the  normal  size 
of  either  bullet  or  barrel  was  compensated  by  the 
"upsettage"  of  the  soft  bullet  at  the  moment  of 
discharge.  That  is,  the  blow  of  the  black  powder 
gases  would  thicken  the  bullet  at  the  expense  of  its 
length  and  the  bullet  would  thereupon  fill  up  the 
rifling  snugly  and  fly  out  of  the  barrel  true,  with 
the  full  force  of  the  gases  kept  behind  it  as  they 
should  be.  A  bullet  might  be  .002  or  .004  of  an 
inch  too  small,  but  its  upsettage  would  fill  up  the 
barrel  and  everything  would  be  well  again. 

Under     the     impression     that     this     would     be     the 


case  with  the  new  bullets,  the  Government  made  the 
new  guns  and  ammunition  with  the  same  old  dis- 
regard for  accuracy,  as  long  as  a  rifle  was  somewhere 
near  the  required  size  it  passed.  But  the  new 
bullets  would  not  upset,  the  metal  jacket  prevent- 
ing much  change,  even  had  the  blow  of  the  smoke- 
less powder  gases  been  as  violent  as  the  old  black 
powder.  The  smokeless  powder  acted  differently, 
the  blow  while  slower  was  of  course  eventually  much 
stronger  but   the  quick   sharp   tap   of  the   black   powder 

The  bullets  were  very  poor  and  the  powder  worse. 
Shooting  at  a  thousand  yards  with  the  new  am- 
munition, accuracy  was  a  point  which  seemed  to  be  a 
thing  of  the  past  and  the  experts  were  in  despair. 
About  this  time  we  sent  a  rifle  team  to  compete  with 
our  English  cousins  and  their  colonics  for  the  Palma 
trophy  and  were  gloriously  beaten,  mainly  on 
account  of  the  poor  ammunition.  The  English  were 
years  ahead  of  us  in  the  understanding  of  the 
idiosyncrasies  of  the  new  guns  and  ammunition. 

As  usual  the  civilian  riflemen  had  to  pull  the 
Government  out  of  the  hole.  Dr.  Hudson,  one  of 
the  foremost  riflemen  of  the  country,  got  his  brains 
to  work  in  conjunction  with  a  man  named  Thomas 
in  one  of  the  great  ammunition  factories,  and  they 
turned  out  a  bullet  which  would  put  the  old  Spring- 
field to  shame,  when  fired  through  a  rifle  which  was 
somewhere  near  standard  calibre.  The  powder  which 
had  been  formerly  used  was  abandoned  and  the 
Laflin  &  Rand  "W.  A."  powder  adopted  in  its 
place,   which   has  been   standard  ever  since. 

At  the  time  of  the  Spanish  War,  the  great  dif- 
ference between  the  Krag  and  the  Springfield  was 
most  emphatically  pointed  out,  and  a  militiaman  who 
fired  one  of  the  old  smoke  wagons  near  the  regulars 
found  himself  to  be  most  unpopular.  The  enemy 
asked  nothing  better  to  shoot  at  than  the  great  cloud 
of  blue  smoke  which  spouted  forth  from  the  muzzle 
of  a  Springfield,  and  the  poor  militia,  who  were 
armed  with  what  our  President  afterwards  termed 
"The  Archaic  weapons",  found  that  it  was  pref- 
erable to  remain  mere  spectators  of  the  fighting  to 
drawing  the  fire  of  the  enemy  and  the  blasphemy  of 
the  regulars  on  to  their  devoted  selves  by  firing 
their  Springfields. 

But  good  as  our  Krags  were,  the  Spanish  had  a 
still  better  rifle.  The  Krag  had  to  be  reloaded  one 
cartridge  at  a  time  until  the  magazine  was  full. 
The  Spanish  Mauser  was  reloaded  with  five 
cartridges  contained  in  a  clip  in  the  same  time  that 
it  took  to  place  one  cartridge  in  the  Krag,  thus 
giving  a  much  greater  rapidity  of  fire.  The  Mauser 
was  shorter  and  neater  of  outline,  lacking  the  clumsy 
projecting  magazine  that  encumbered  the  Krag.  After 
a  couple  of  years  of  facing  the  Mausers  in  the  hands 
of  the  unruly  people  of  the  Philippines,  the  Govern- 
ment began  to  wonder  if  maybe  a  gun  on  the  pattern 
of  the  Mauser  would  not  be  a  good  thing.  Carrying 
out  the  thought,  the  New  Springfield  was  brought 
out — which  as  has  been  said  before,  is  like  the  old 
Springfield  in  name  only.  This  rifle,  as  first  brought 
out  some  six  years  ago,  was  equipped  with  a  rod 
bayonet,  attached  to  the  rifle,  which  had  *  the 
strength  and  stopping  power  of  a  medium  sized 
darning  needle,  and  the  first  issue  was  hurriedly 
called  in  and  the  experimental  jabbers  yanked  off 
post    haste.     The    second    issue    leaves    nothing    to    be 


456 


WESTERN  FIELD 


desired,  and  the  American  people  can  congratulate 
themselves  that  our  soldiers  arc  armed  with  the 
finest  rifle  possible  to  produce,  and  one  that  is  not 
inferior  to  any  arm,  civilian  or  military,  on  the  face 
of   the   globe. 

The  new  rifle  is  the  same  calibre  as  the  old  Krag, 
the  exact  diameter  of  the  bullet  being  .308  or  a  shade 
over  a  thirty.  The  old  outlandish  looking  magazine 
has  been  done  away  with  and  the  rifle  is  loaded  on 
the  plan  of  the  Mauser,  with  five  cartridges  con- 
tained  in  a  clip. 

With  this  rifle  five  shots  can  be  discharged  as  fast 
as  the  bolt  can  be  manipulated,  and  the  gun  re- 
loaded with  five  more  cartridges  in  the  same  time 
as  one  shell  can  be  inserted  in  the  chamber  of  an 
ordinary  single  shot  rifle.  The  powder  charge  has 
been  increased  a  little,  and  with  the  regulation  bullet 
the  velocity  is  about  2160  foot  seconds.  With  the 
new  Spitzer  pattern  bullets  the  rifle  gives  a  velocity 
of  2700  foot  seconds.  In  other  words,  if  the  new 
Springfield  and  the  old  .45  Model  Springfield  were 
fired  at  a  man  a  thousand  yards  away,  the  new  bullet 
would  reach  the  man  while  the  Springfield  .45  bullet 
was  a  little  more  than  a  third  of  the  way  on  its 
journey.  The  practical  value  of  this  terrific  velocity 
is  in  the  resulting  flatness  of  trajectory.  With  the 
rifle  sighted  at  point  blank,  by  merely  holding  the 
rifle  a  little  higher,  or  taking  a  little  coarser  front 
bead,  the  bullet  would  strike  an  object  six  hundred 
yards  away.  The  value  of  this  in  battle  when  the 
men  are  too  excited  to  think  of  their  sights  is  obvious. 

The  new  rifle  is  made  with  a  twenty-four  inch 
barrel — a  distinct  departure  in  military  firearms 
which  have  heretofore  been  made  with  barrels  thirty 
inches  or  over — experience  having  proven  that  the 
shorter  barrels  utilize  all  the  energy  of  the  powder. 
In  both  shot  guns  and  rifles  this  fact  is  beginning  to 
be  recognized,  and  a  few  years  will  see  a  twenty  to 
twenty-four  inch  barrel  the  standard  length  for  a 
sporting  rifle,  while  a  twenty-six  or  twenty-eifeht  inch 
barrel  will  be  the  popular  dimension  for  the  scatter 
gun   lover. 

The  man  who  talks  about  "liking  a  rifle  that  kicks, 
because  it  feels  as  though  he  was  shooting  some- 
thing" would  be  entirely  satisfied  with  the  New 
Springfield.  The  recoil  is  the  only  objectionable 
feature  about  it.  As  one  Eastern  shooter  puts  it, 
a  man  lying  prone  and  shooting  the  New  Spring- 
field will,  according  to  his  experience,  be  kicked 
back  about  three  feet  every  time  he  shoots  the 
rifle,  and  he  says  it  would  be  an  interesting  problem 
in  mathematics  to  figure  out  how  many  shots  would 
be  necessary  to  kick  the  shooter  off  the  field  of  battle 
and  into  a  place  of  safety.  So  in  out  next  war,  when 
a  man  is  found  far  to  the  rear  of  the  point  of  danger, 
he  can  merely  state  tue  number  of  shots  he  has 
fired,  which  multiplied  by  three  feet  should  equal  the 
distance  of  the  man  in  question   from  the  firing  line. 

The  new  smokeless  powder  and  the  metal  cased 
bullets  have  brought  up  new  problems  for  the  at- 
tention of  the  rifle  crank.  The  gases  produced  by 
the  high  pressure  smokeless  powder  are  white  hot, 
and  if  allowed  to  leak  by  the  base  of  a  bullet  when 
fired  will  promptly  cut  little  grooves  in  the  steel  of 
the  rifle  barrel  itself,  ruining  it  in  a  short  time.  This 
hardly  seems  possible,  but  the  fact  remains.  On 
account  of  this  terrific  heat  it  is  impossible  to  fire  an 
ordinary  lead  bullet  through  a  barrel  with  these 
gases    pushing    at    its    unprotected    base,    even    though 


the  bullet  could  be  made  tough  enough  to  stick  to 
the  rifling  and  not  strip.  For  medium  range  work 
a  bullet  had  been  turned  out  made  of  an  alloy  of 
tin.  antimony  and  lead  with  a  little  copper.  This 
gives  a  bullet  that  will  stick  to  the  rifling  yet  is  not 
hard  enough  to  wear'  out  the  rifle*  barrel  as  the 
metal  patched  bullets  will  do,  but  the  problem 
arose  how  to  keep  the  hot  gases  from  melting  the 
base  of  the  bullet.  Some  genius  evolved  the  plan 
of  attaching  a  copper  base  or  cup  to  the  base  of  the 
bullet,  thus  preventing  the  hot  gases  from  getting  in 
their  work  on  the  easily  melted  alloy.  With  a  bullet 
so  prepared,  and  a  medium  charge  of  high  pressure 
smokeless  powder,  the  Kraj  and  the  New  Spring- 
field can  be  shot  at  all  ranges  up  to  six  hundred 
yards,  with  the  same  results  as  obtained  with  the 
full  service  charge,  at  much  less  cost  and  last  but  not 
least,  at  great  saving  to  the  rifle.  The  life  of  the 
Krag  or  Springfield,  shooting  the  full  service 
charge,  is  about  two  or  three  thousand  rounds.  After 
this  the  rifle  will  not  give  the  accuracy  at  the  long 
ranges  which  it  would  when  new,  and  has  to  be 
thrown  away.  Hence  the  new  invention  of  the 
alloyed  bullet  with  copper  gas  check  is  a  great  boon, 
not  only  to  the  military  rifleman  but  as  well  to  the 
sportsman  who  uses  a  modern  high  pressure  rifle, 
and  who  likes  to  practice  at  the  range  with  the 
weapon  between  deer  seasons. 

Once  aroused  from  its  lethargy  our  Ordnance 
Board  has  not  been  satisfied,  and  the  rifle  as  issued 
to  the  troops  is  as  near  perfection  as  any  firearm 
made.  A  few  months  ago  our  rifle  team,  made  up 
of  the  finest  shots  in  the  United  States — which 
means  in  the  world — met  the  teams  of  England, 
Canada  and  Australia  in  the  shoot  for  the  much 
desired  blue  ribbon  of  the  rifle  world,  the  Palma 
Trophy.  When  the  last  shot  cracked,  the  American 
team,  armed  with  the  new  product  of  American 
rifle  making,  was  on  top — very  much  on  top — as  the 
scores  of  the  team  and  their  nearest  competitors  will 
show.  Incidentally  the  Americans  did  the  finest 
shooting  of  any  rifle  team  in  history,  bar  none,  and 
this  mind  you,  not  with  selected  madc-to-order  match 
rifles  but  with  the  service  rifle  issued  to  the  U.  S. 
Army.  Mr.  Townsend  Whelan,  one  of  the  greatest 
authorities  on  rifle  shooting  and  sport  in  general, 
estimates  that  if  the  New  Springfield  was  put  on 
the  market  by  a  private  manufacturer,  made  out  of 
the  materials  used  by  the  Government  and  made  with 
the  care  which  the  Government  exercises  in  its 
manufacture;  it  could  not  be  sold  for  less  than  forty 
dollars,  which  is  about  twice  as  much  as  the  most 
expensive  American  sporting  rifle  costs  at  present. 
Our  military  rifle  leads  the  procession,  with  the 
different  makes  of  civilian  sporting  rifles  trailing  in 
the  rear  of  the  contest. 

This  is  as  it  should  be.  The  military  rifle  is 
made  for  business — grim  ugly  business.  It  is  de- 
signed primarily  for  killing  men  who  have  the 
same  ideas  in  their  heads  regarding  their*  would-be 
executioners.  When  it  comes  to  this  stage  of  the 
game  we  don't  want  it  said  that  Tom,  Dick  or 
Harry,  with  rifles  turned  out  by  some  factory  for 
killing  game,  are  better  armed  than  our  soldiers  who 
are  sent  out  to  fight  for  the  Nation  and  the  millions 
of  homes  behind  them.  The  time  is  not  long  past 
when  this  was  the  case;  let  us  hope  it  will  not  come 
again. 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


RIFLE  PRACTISE  IN  THE  NAVY 


I  INTERESTING  report  on  small 
arms  practice  in  the  Navy  has  been 
made  public  by  that  Department. 
It  is  shown  that  during  the  season 
of  1907  remarkable  progress  was 
made.  The  average  points  per  man 
was  practically  double  that  of  last 
year  and  the  percentage  attaining 
high  classification  has  advanced 
enormously.  The  interest  taken  in 
the  firing  by  officers  and  men  was  a 
potent  influence  and  was  noticeable 
in  short  range  firing  and  at  the  longer  ranges,  par- 
ticularly in  team  competitions.  "This  interest," 
says  the  report,  "was  largely  enhanced  by  the  pres- 
ence in  the  fleet  of  officers  and  men  who  had  been 
with  the  Navy  Rifle  Team  during  last  year's  match. 
This  influence  has  been  of  such  value  to  the  service, 
and  the  presence  and  creditable  showing  of  the 
Navy  team  at  this  meet,  where  teams  from  nearly 
every  State  in  the  Union  are  assembled,  has  so 
furthered  the  interests  of  the  Navy  among  the  people 
at  large  that  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  policy  of 
sending  a  team  to  the  National  Competition  may  be 
continued   indefinitely." 

The  total  number  of  officers  and  men  firing  dimin- 
ished from  10,583  the  preceding  year,  to  9,206,  but 
the  average  points  per  man  was  increased  from  IS 
plus  to  30  plus.  The  percentage  qualified  as  sharp- 
shooters or  marksmen  increased  from  .35  to  9.89. 
The  percentage  qualified  as  first  class  or  better  in- 
creased from  3.S  to  20.2 ;  second  class  or  better, 
13.4  to  39.7;  third  class  or  better,  31.2  to  59.5,  and 
fourth  class  or  better  from  82.6  to  88.4.  The  per- 
centage unqualified  diminished  from  17.3  to  11.5. 
Considerable  money  was  distributed  among  the  crews 
of  the  various  ve_3els,  the  Maryland,  Missouri,  Colo- 
rado, Kearsarge,  Iowa,  West  Virginia  and  Cincin- 
nati receiving  the  largest  amounts.  Two  silver  cups 
have  been  offered  by  the  Department  as  trophies  for 
excellence  in  small  arms  marksmanship ;  one  for  the 
Atlantic  fleet,  the  other  for  the  Pacific  fleet.  Definite 
rules  will  shortly  be  issued  governing  the  award  of 
these  trophies.  On  the  recommendation  of  the  com- 
mander-in-chief of  the  Atlantic  fleet  the  Atlantic 
fleet  trophy  was   awarded  to  the  Missouri. 

At  the  National  Competition  this  year  the  Navy 
carried  off  the  highest  honors,  the  Navy  team  win- 
ning the  National  Trophy  in  the  Team  Match,  and 
the  National  Individual  and  National  Pistol  Matches, 
together  with  the  Military  Championship,  going  to 
members  of  the  Naval  Academy  Team.  In  his  report. 
Lieutenant  Harris  Laning,  Captain  of  the  Navy 
Team,  gives  a  dramatic  description  of  the  final  stage 
of  the  great  Team  match,  in  which  were  entered 
forty-eight  teams  of  twelve  men  each,  representing 
the  regular  services  and  the  National  Guard  of 
nearly  every  State  and  Territory.  At  the  completion 
of  the  firing  at  the  800-yard  stage,  Massachusetts 
was  leading  with  2990  points  against  2985  for  the 
Navy.  Captain  Laning  here  takes  up  the  story.  "On 
Friday  morning  the  final  stage,  1000  yards,  was 
started  promptly  at  S.  The  Navy  team  had  drawn 
target  No.  44,  while  Massachusetts,  with  whom  we 
were  fighting  for  first  place,  drew  No.  45.  The  final 
tussle   lay   on   these   adjoining   targets,    and   for   three 


hours  the  strain  was  intense,  as  it  was  shot  for  shot 
on  these  two.  A  large  crowd  stood  behind  the  line 
and  watched  the  struggle,  which  has  seldom,  if  ever, 
been  equaled  in  a  big  match.  The  conditions  were 
by  far  the  most  trying  in  all  the  match  and  were 
well  calculated  to  test  not  only  the  skill  of  the  con- 
testants, but  the  nerve  and  cool  judgment  under  a 
heavy  strain.  Massachusetts  started  in  with  a  lead 
of  five  points  over  the  Navy,  which  lead  their  first 
two  pairs  increased  to  twenty-nine  points.  Things 
looked  rather  blue  for  the  Navy  team  at  that  time, 
for  with  only  four  more  pairs  on  each  time  to  fire  a 
lead  of  twenty-nine  points  is  hard  to  wipe  out.  The 
Navy's  third  pair,  however,  were  equal  to  the  occa- 
sion. Lieutenant  Hilary  Williams  and  Midshipman 
Stephen  Doherty  went  to  the  line  and  making,  re- 
spectively, 45  and  42,  or  87  out  of  the  possible  100, 
gained  19  points  on  the  corresponding  pair  from 
Massachusetts,  who  were  only  able  to  make  68  be- 
tween them.  King  and  Eigenman  and  Woodward 
and  Lewis  followed  in  succession  and  still  further 
cut  Massachusetts'  lead  to  only  4  points,  when  the 
last  pair  of  each  team  came  on  the  line.  It  fell  to 
the  lot  of  Ensign  I.  F.  Dortch  and  Midshipman  C.  T. 
Osburn  to  make  the  final  stand  that  won  the  match. 
These  two  young  officers  came  to  the  line  with  the 
utmost  confidence,  and  under  the  awful  strain,  with 
the  eyes  of  nearly  all  the  contestants  on  them, 
made,  under  the  most  trying  conditions  of  the  day, 
41  and  37  respectively,  a  total  of  78,  while  the  last 
pair  of  the  Massachusetts  team  could  only  net  71, 
leaving  the  Navy  team  the  winner  in  the  match  by 
just  three  points." 

Captain  Laning  ascribes  the  winning  by  the  Navy 
Team  to  "the  steady  consistent  shooting  of  every 
man  at  each  range."  He  further  notes:  "And  the 
credit  for  the  victory  should  be  shared,  too,  by  the 
alternates  and  other  members  who  did  not  fire  in  the 
match,  but  who  we:  :  at  all  times  eager  to  do  any 
of  the  drudgery  work  that  had  to  be  done  to  build 
up  the  team.  It  was  the  team  spirit  that  made  the 
Navy  team;  it  was  the  Navy  spirit  that  filled  the 
team  at  that  critical  time  when  every  effort  had  to 
be  put  forth  to  save  the  day.  It  was  a  pleasure  to 
feel  that  such  a  team  could  be  brought  together  and 
molded  into  such  shape  in  so  short  a  time.  With 
the  exception  of  the  United  States  Naval  Academy, 
the  Navy  team  was  perhaps  the  youngest  in  average 
in  the  match.  It  was  made  up  of  men  of  whom 
fifty  per  cent  were  new  to  the  game  this  year  and 
yet  who,  by  their  persistent  and  conscientious  effort, 
were  able  in  three  months  of  training  to  outshoot 
the  best  of  the  old-time  teams.  It  is,  I  think,  the 
spirit  of  the  new  Navy  that  makes  such  results  pos- 
sible." 

The  Navy  Department  was  also  highly  pleased  at 
the  shooting  of  the  Naval  Academy  Team,  which 
took  sixth  place.  It  has  generally  been  assumed 
that  no  team  could  take  a  high  standing  in  the 
national  team  match  unless  thfc  majority  of  its 
members  were  veteran  marksmen  who  had  behind 
them  a  long  period  of  training  and  considerable  ex- 
perience in  firing  in  matches.  This  opinion  seems 
to  be  disproved  most  thoroughly  by  the  record  of 
the  Naval  Academy  team,  as  this  record  shows  that 
comparatively   young  men   can   be   trained   in   a  short 


458 


WESTERN  FIELD 


space  of  time  to  a  high  degree  of  efficiency.  Of 
the  twelve  members  of  the  Naval  Academy  team  who 
fired  at  the  match,  the  oldest  was  less  than  25 
years  of  age,  the  youngest  was  17.5,  and  the  average 
of  their  ages  was  20.25  years.  None  of  these  men 
had  any  previous  experience  in  rifle  shooting.  The 
maximum  amount  of  training  that  any  member  of 
the  team  had  enjoyed  was  20  weeks  at  short  ranges. 
The  minimum  amount  was  8  weeks  and  the  average 
amount  for  the  team  was  11.5  weeks.  This  experi- 
ence includes  firing  on  short  ranges  only.  Not  a 
single  member  of  the  team  had  any  experience  at  all 
at  long  range  or  at  skirmish  firing  until  July  15th  of 
this  year,  so  that  their  total  experience  at  the 
hardest  part  of  a  rifleman's  training  was  but  5  weeks. 
It  is  not  claimed  that  seasoned  men  are  not  better 
than  raw  recruits,  but  the  experience  of  the  Naval 
Academy  team  certainly  shows  that  a  very  high 
degree  of  efficiency  can  be  attained  after  a  short 
period  of  intelligent  training.  For  example,  the 
Xaval  Academy  team  made  a  final  score  of  3347, 
which  is  94  points  more  than  the  winning  team 
made  last  year,  and  is  but  74  points  less  than  the 
winning  team  made  this  year.  They  beat  such 
veteran  teams  as  that  of  Pennsylvania,  U.  S.  In- 
fantry, New  York,  New  Jersey,  etc.  In  addition  to 
the  above  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  highest  in- 
dividual honors  were  also  won  by  these  young  men. 
The  National  Individual  Match  was  won  by  Mid- 
shipman Lee,  who  is  a  little  over  19  years  of  age. 
He  also  won  the  National  Pistol  Match,  against 
250  competitors.  The  Military  Championship  of  the 
United  States  was  won  by  Midshipman  Smith,  who 
is  20  years  of  age,  and  who  had  but  8  weeks  of 
training  on  short  ranges,  and  not  more  than  5  at 
the  long   ranges   and   skirmish   firing. 

Gratifying  progress  is  reported  fo-  the  movement 
to  interest  school-boys  in  rifle-practice.  At  a  recent 
meeting  of  the  National  Rifle  Association  Directors 
the  by-laws  were  amended  so  as  to  include  among 
the  affiliated  organizations  rifle  clubs  organized  in 
institutions  of  learning,  divided  into  two  classes, 
colleges  and  schools.  The  former  clubs  are  to  be 
composed  of  students  in  colleges  and  universities 
conferring  degrees;  the  latter  in  public,  preparatory, 
high  and  private  schools  and  academies  not  con- 
ferring degrees.  In  either  case  not  less  than  twenty 
members  must  belong  to  the  club  before  it  can  be 
affiliated.  These  clubs  have  the  privilege,  enjoyed 
by  other  clubs  affiliated  with  the  National  Rifle 
Association,  of  purchasing  arms  and  ordnance  stores 
from  the  government  at  government  prices.  The 
National  Rifle  Association  will  give  a  prize  to  each 
club  annually  for  competition  among  the  members 
and  later  a  code  will  probably  be  adopted  with  a 
suitable  decoration  for  students  qualifying  under  it. 
Among  the  clubs  recently  organized  and  affiliated 
with  the  N.  R.  A.  are  the  Bordentown  (N.  J.)  Mili- 
tary Academy;  Montclair  (N.  J.)  Military  Academy; 
Stamford  (Conn.)  High  School;  Culver  (Ind.)  Mili- 
tary Academy ;  Kemper  Military  School,  Bonnville, 
Mo. ;  Riverview  Academy,  Poughkeepsie,  N.  Y. ; 
University  of  California,  Berkeley,  Cal. ;  University 
of  Maine.  Orono.  Me.;  University  of  Nebraska,  Lin- 
coln, Neb.;  College  of  St.  Thomas,  St.  Paul.  Minn.; 
Hamilton  Institute,  New  York  City;  and  St.  Mat- 
thew's  Military   Academy,   Burlingame     Cal. 

In  connection  with  the  work  of  interesting  school- 
boys  in   rifle   practice   it   may   be   assumed   that   sixty 


or  seventy  per  cent  of  any  large  body  of  volunteers 
would  be  under  the  age  of  twenty-five  years.  When 
young  men  get  started  on  their  business  careers  at 
eighteen  and  twenty  years  of  age  it  is  hard  for  them 
to  find  time  to  practice  with  small  arms,  and  it  is 
therefore  regarded  as  highly  desirable  that  the 
ground  work  should  be  laid  before  they  start  out 
in  the  world,  trusting  that  their  interest  would  then 
be  maintained  through  later  years.  Much  has  been 
accomplished  in  this  direction  by  the  Public  Schools 
Athletic  League,  of  New  York  City,  which  has  in- 
stalled a  number  of  sub-target  guns  and  which  has 
provided  prizes  for  out-door  matches.  In  connec- 
tion with  this  work  the  first  indoor  tournament  for 
school-boys  will  be  held  in  New  York  City  from 
December  23d  to  January  4th.  The  National  Rifle 
Association  will  build  a  rifle  range  at  the  Forest, 
Fish,  Game  and  Sportsman's  Exhibition  at  the 
Grand  Central  Palace,  especially  for  school-boys 
matches.  It  is  expected  that  at  least  fourteen  out 
of  the  nineteen  high-schools  in  New  York  will  be 
represented  by  teams,  as  well  as  Jersey  City,  Pater- 
son,  Elizabeth,  Stamford,  Conn.,  and  perhaps  Balti- 
more and  Washington.  The  military  academies  will 
have  team  matches  among  themselves.  Most  of  the 
matches  will  be  shot  on  a  fifty-foot  range  with  the 
New  Springfield  (U.  S.  A.  military  rifle)  .22  gallery 
model,  both  standing  and  prone  positions  being 
used.  Reduced  rates  will  be  given  to  enable  boys 
from  outside  New  York  to  attend,  and  in  addition 
to  the  numerous  prizes  all  those  making  a  qualifying 
score  will  be  given  the  N.  R.  A.  "Junior  Marks- 
man's" medal.  The  shooting  will  be  in  charge  of 
such  experts  as  Captain  K.  K.  V.  Casey,  Captain 
W.  A.  Tewes,  Captain  George  Corwin,  and  others, 
and  Dr.  C.  Ward  Crampton,  Physical  Director  of 
the  New  York  schools,  will  be  in  attendance. 
*  *  * 
The  Navy  Department  is  making  arrangements  to 
procure  a  suitable  range  for  small  arms  practice  for 
the  fleet  while  on  the  Pacific  coast.  There  is  a  600 
yard  range  at  Mare  Island  and  one  of  300  yards  at 
Yerba  Ruena,  but  neither  are  suitable  for  extensive 
long  range  practice.  It  is  therefore  likely  that  a 
range  will  be  acquired  on  the  Pacific  coast  to  cor- 
respond with  the  one  at  Guantanamo,  Cuba,  which 
with  the  one  at  Olongapo  will  give  the  navy  ranges 
on  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  coasts  and  in  the  Phil- 
ippines. The  Guantanamo  range,  which  is  nearing 
completion,  will  be  the  finest  and  best  equipped  in 
the  world.     Two  thousand  men  a  day  can  be  handled 


General  James  A.  Drain,  of  New  York,  president 
of  the  National  Rifle  Association,  is  making  a  tour 
of  the  states  organizing  state  rifle  associations  to 
affiliate  with  the  national  association,  and  it  is  ex- 
pected that  as  the  result  of  his  trip  a  number  of 
new  organizations  will  be  effected.  It  is  noticeable 
that  those  states  which  are  at  the  head  of  the  list  for 
percentage  in  marksmanship,  are  those  which  have 
such  state  associations.  They  give  these  states  an 
organized  body  through  which  to  cultivate  interest 
in  rifle-practice,  to  manage  the  matches  and  to 
solicit  and  take  care  of  prizes.  The  organization  fee 
has  been  reduced  from  $25  to  $10,  and  to  each  state 
association  is  annually  presented  a  handsome  ham- 
mered bronze  cup  for  competition  among  its  mem- 
bers. 


Conducted  By  H.  T.  Payne 


THE  OLDEST  FIELD  TRIALS  CLUB  IN  AMERICA 


HE     Pacific    Coast    Field    Trials 

Club  will  hold  during  the  week 

commencing    January    20,    1908, 

its     twenty-fifth     annual     trials. 

There  is  but  one  field  trial  club 

in    America — the    Eastern — that 

has  had  a  longer  existence  than 

the  Pacific  Coast.    But  this  year 

the  Eastern  is  not  holding  trials, 

so  that  in  fact  the  Pacific  Coast 

Club    is    today   the    oldest    club    of    the    kind 

actually  in  the  field,  a  distinction  of  which  the 

sportsmen  of  California  may  well  be  proud. 

The  early  history  of  this  club  is  in  many 
respects  an  amusing  one,  for  its  organizers 
were  true  sportsmen,  ambitious  and  deter- 
mined. They  had  read  of  competitive  trials 
of  dogs-  on  game  birds ;  the  descriptions  of  the 
sport  sounded  good  to  them ;  and  they  became 
anxious  to  see  and  enjoy  the  real  thing. 

With  the  true  California  spirit  they  argued 
that  the  Golden  State  must  be  abreast  of 
the  very  foremost  in  this  new  sport  as  it  was 
in  all  others,  and  a  club  for  this  purpose 
must  be  organized.  Accordingly  the  club 
was  organized  and  a  date  set  for  the  trials, 
judges  selected,  rules  formulated,  and  the 
coming  trials  proclaimed  to  the  world. 

The  entrance  fee  was  $5  both  in  the  derby 
and  the  all-age,  and  the  purses  were  $25., 
$15.  and  $10.  There  were  five  nominations 
in  the  derby  and  thirteen  in  the  all-age.  The 
first  trials  were  held  at  Walltown  Timber, 
on  November  26,  27  and  28,  1883,  with  F.  W. 
Dunn  officiating  as  judge.  The  spirit  was 
strong,  the  enthusiasm  great,  but  the  dogs 
were  weak.  In  fact  at  that  time  there  were 
but   few   thoroughbred   setters   or  pointers   on 


the  Coast,  and  most  of  those  who  did  own 
good  dogs  were  somewhat  skeptical  about 
entering  into  the  competition.  They  were 
afraid  that  some  cold  blooded  native  might 
beat  their  blue-bloods. 

The  result  was  that  there  were  but  five 
starters  in  the  derby,  two  pointers,  one 
English  and  two  Irish  setters.  If  either  of 
these  had  ever  made  a  point  the  only  evidence 
of  it  was  the  unsupported  statement  of  its 
owner,  for  not  one  of  the  five  gave  any 
evidence  of  understanding  either  the  mean- 
ing, purpose  or  necessity  of  such  an  act. 

The  judge  was  a  sportsman  in  the  truest 
sense,  and  therefore  believed  that  as  setters 
and  pointers  were  bred  to  find  birds  and  locate 
them  for  the  gun,  he,  being  unable  to  get 
any  points,  determined  that  at  least  a  dead 
bird  should  be  found  before  he  would  render 
his  decision.  Accordingly  one  was  hidden, 
and  with  a  good  deal  of  assistance  from  his 
handler  one  of  the  puppies  found  it.  Had 
the  judge  been  one  of  the  present  generation 
of  field  trial  judges,  he  would  have  got  out 
of  this  dilemma  by  remarking:  "Just  look  at 
Heels !  Great  'class' !  He's  in  the  next  county 
by  this  time  and  therefore  wins  first." 

The  awards  were :  Henry  A.  Bassford's 
pointer  dog  Butte  Bow,  (Ranger-Josie  Bow) 
first ;  General  H.  C.  Chipman's  Irish  setter 
bitch,  Beatrice,  (Shakoe-Nellie)  second,  and 
G.  B.  Crosby's  pointer  dog,  Bow  Jr.  (Ranger- 
Josie  Bow)   third. 

In  the  all-age  there  were  seven  starters : 
one  pointer,  one  Gordon,  one  Irish  and  three 
English  setters.  Most  of  the  dogs  in  this 
stake  did  fairly  well,  though  none  of  them 
bolted    or    got    into    the    next    county.      The 


460 


WESTERN  FIELD 


absence  of  these  characteristics  of  "class"  did 
not  worry  the  judge  to  any  great  extent,  and 
he  placed  them  as  follows:  Fred  A.  Taft's 
Gordon  setter  dog,  Don,  (Dan-Lady)  first; 
Too  M.  Bassford's  pointer  bitch  Beautiful 
Queen,  (Ranger-Queen)  second,  and  Horace 
H.  Briggs'  Irish  setter  bitch,  Belle  (breeding 
not  known)  third. 

Such  was  the  small  start  of  the  Pacific 
Coast   Field    Trials   Club. 

At  the  trials  the  following  year  there  were 
eight  starters  in  the  derby:  one  pointer,  one 
Irish  and  six  English  setters,  and  thirteen 
starters  in  the  all-age,  five  English,  one  Irish 
and  two  Gordon  setters  and  five  pointers. 
For  the  next  two  years  the  number  of  starters 
fell  off  both  in  the  derby  and  all-age,  reach- 
ing the  lowest  point  in  1886,  when  the  derby 
had  but  two  starters  and  the  all-age  seven. 
This  was  the  smallest  derby  in  the  history  of 
the  club,  though  as  late  as  1894  the  derby 
had  but  four  starters.  The  smallest  all-age 
stake  was  in  1890  when  the  starters  numbered 
but   six. 

In  the  early  years  of  the  club's  trials  the 
owners  broke  and  handled  their  own  dogs, 
with  the  result  that  the  dogs  were  far  better 
broken  and  under  far  better  control  than 
since  the  advent  of  professional  handlers.  The 
interest,  too,  was  keener  and  the  attendance 
larger.  Geo.  T.  Allender  was  the  first  pro- 
fessional handler,  breaking  and  handling  in 
1885  a  small  string  with  which  he  won  first 
in  the  derby  with  J.  Martin  Barney's  pointer, 
Tom  Pinch,  and  first  in  the  all-age  with  Wm. 
Schrieber's  pointer,  Mountain  Boy.  In  1889 
M.  D.  Walters  made  his  first  appearance  as 
a  handler,  and  the  year  following  Wm.  De 
Mott  entered  the  field. 

Of  the  charter  members  of  the  club  I 
believe  Judge  C.  N.  Post  of  Sacramento  is 
the  only  one  remaining.  Death  has  called 
away  many  of  the  keen  sportsmen  who  in  the 
early  years  of  the  trials  broke  and  handled 
their  own  dogs,  and  the  weight  of  many 
years  has  compelled  others  to  give  up  the 
sport.  Even  of  those  who  may  be  classed 
as  pioneers  of  the  club  but  few  remain,  they 
being  W.  S.  Tevis,  of  Bakersfield,  H.  T. 
Payne,  of  San  Francisco.  John  H.  Schu- 
macker,  W.  G.  Kirckhoff,  H.  W.  Keller 
of  Los  Angeles,  and  J.  E.  Terry  of  Sacra- 
mento. But  as  death,  old  age  or  other  causes 
have  depleted  the  ranks  of  the  old  guard,  to 
the  roster  has  been  added  new  names  whose 


keen  sportsmanship  has  never  allowed  the 
enthusiasm  to  lessen  or  the  sport  to  grow 
weaker  in  interest. 

While  the  great  disaster  of  1905  cast  its 
shadow  over  the  club  as  the  dark  clouds  of 
burning  San  Francisco  swept  over  the  state, 
still  the  club  weathered  the  financial  storm 
with  a  smiling  face  and  a  stout  heart,  and 
though  temporarily  checked  in  its  long  suc- 
cessful career,  it  is  still  in  the  ring  to  celebrate 
its  "twenty-fifth  anniversary,  stronger  in  num- 
bers, more  resolute  of  purpose,  and  with  a 
future  promising  years  of  continued  useful- 
ness. 

In  the  history  of  its  annual  trials  there 
appears  to  be  a  break,  as  the  year  1887  does 
not  appear  in  the  chronological  record. 
This  is  caused  by  the  club  changing  the  date 
of  the  trials  from  December  1887  to  January 
1888. 

In  connection  with  the  early  trials  of  the 
club,  a  letter  written  to  the  writer  of  this 
article  several  years  ago  by  Joe  Bassford, 
one  of  the  charter  members  of  the  club  and 
one  of  the  handlers  in  the  first  trials,  will 
prove  of  interest. 

"Of  all  the  field  trials  I  have  attended  I 
enjoyed  the  two  first  ones  the  most,  as  we 
camped  outright  where  the  trials  were  run. 
Well  do  I  remember  the  first  heat  ever  run 
(the  all-age).  It  was  between  Tom  Bennett's 
Sibyl  and  my  Beautiful  Queen,  and  the 
owners  were  the  handlers.  Both  handlers 
were  very  much  excited,  and  it  was :  "Here, 
Sib!",  "Come  here,  Queen!"  and,  "Tom,  have 
you  seen  my  dog?"  and  "Joe,  have  you  seen 
Sib  anywhere?"  And  we  helped  each  other 
in  those  times  to  find  our  dogs  all  over  the 
hill. 

"Then  the  old  campfire  at  night,  and  good 
Xick  White  caring  for  the  blankets  to  keep 
them  clean.  And  in  the  very  early  morning 
to  see  Horace  Briggs  plunge  into  Deer  Creek 
for  a  bath  when  everything  was  white  with 
frost.  And  that  delicious  snore  of  Fred 
Taft's  when  one  was  tired  and  wanted  to 
sleep.    We  can  think  of  it  now  and  laugh. 

"Judge  Dunn  judged  both  our  first  stakes, 
and  at  the  end  of  each  heat  he  would  read 
aloud  the  score  made  by  each  dog,  telling 
how  and  why  one  dog  was  beaten  and  how  the 
other  won.  I  think  it  gave  entire  satisfac- 
tion as  I  have  been  in  heats  since  and  got 
beaten  but  never  could  understand  why.  I 
have   also   won   at    least   one   heat    since   and 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


461 


never  could  understand  how  I  did  it.  Of 
course  I  took  it  all  the  same,  but  did  not 
think  it  was  right.  But  I  was  a  'field-trialer' 
by  this  time.  Well  do  I  remember  a  setter 
dog,  Dan,  I  ran  in  the  trials  under  Judge 
Dunn.  When  the  score  was  read  aloud  to  the 
crowd  my  dog  owed  the  board  15  points  for 
chasing  rabbits.  How  cheap  I  felt !  I  think 
it  would  be  an  improvement  today  if  each 
dog  was  penalized  heavy  for  chasing  rabbits. 
Some  of  them  might  owe  the  board  even  in 
these  days." 

In  connection  with  the  twenty-fifth  annual 
trials  of  this  club,  a  review  at  this  late  day  of 
the  pioneer  importers  of  thoroughbred  field 
dogs  will  certainly  prove  of  interest  to  our 
present  day  field  trial  men. 

The  first  pedigreed  dogs  brought  to  the 
Coast  were  English  setters.  It  is  possible 
that  other  thoroughbreds  came  to  the  State 
earlier  than  those.  I  shall  mention,  notably 
a  brace  of  English  setters — quite  likely  pure 
Laveracks — brought  to  the  Coast  by  Mr. 
Ralston  of  the  Bank  of  California,  but  no 
pedigree  of  them  was  given,  and  the  same 
may  be  true  of  some  pointers.  The  first  of 
known  pedigree  were  imported  by  J.  W. 
Knox,  of  San  Jose,  in  about  1878.  These 
were  Belton  II.,  (Belton — Dimple)  and  Bell 
(Rob  Roy-Garth's  Bess).  Mr.  Knox  was 
never  a  patron  of  the  field  trials,  but  some  of 
the  dogs  of  his  breeding  and  their  decendants 
were  at  one  time  prominent  in  the  trials  and 
on  the  bench.  Among  these  were  Leaveslay's 
Juno,  Miller's  Sam,  Farmer's  Queen  and 
others. 

I.  N.  Aldrige  of  Marysville  soon  followed 
Mr.  Knox'  lead,  bringing  to  the  State 
McGregor,  (Rob  Roy-Queen  Mab)  and  Lula 
Laverack  (Carlowitz-Petrel).  Some  of  the 
descendants  of  these  two  figured  in  the  trials 
for  a  time  but  none  of  them  proved  to  be 
winners. 

W.  F.  Whittier  brought  to  the  state  in 
about  1879  or  1880  Rock  Jr.  by  Luther 
Adam's  Rock  out  of  Sibyl.  And  about  the 
same  year  Mr.  E.  S.  Maybury  brought  out 
Dan  (Prince-Dora)  and  Sibyl  (Leicester- 
Doll). 

E.  Leavesley,  of  Gilroy,  began  breeding 
English  setters  about  1881.  He  bred  very 
extensively  and  used  to  sell  off  his  surplus 
stock  at  auction  every  year.  His  blood  lines 
however  were  not  of  the  right  kind  and  the 
dogs  bred  did  not  figure  to  advantage  in  the 


trials,  but  he  bred  a  number  of  bench  show 
winners.  Lola  Montez,  the  founder  of  the 
strain  which  our  friends  of  the  north  are  try- 
ing to  give  the  name  of  "Montez  setter,"  is 
one  of  his  breeding. 

Judge  C.  N.  Post  and  G.  W.  Watson  of 
Sacramento,  under  the  name  of  the  Cali- 
fornia Kennels,  purchased  the  two  bitches 
Sweetheart  and  Janet,  both  by  Count  Noble 
out  of  Dashing  Novice,  and  the  dog  Harold 
by  Gath  out  of  Gem,  and  two  years  later 
added  to  the  kennels  the  bitch  Enid  (Gleam- 
Doe)  a  litter  sister  to  Georgia  Belle,  the  dam 
of  Gleams  Sport,  Maiden  Mine,  Callie  White 
and  other  field  trial  winners  of  note.  These 
were  the  first  importations  to  the  Coast  of 
what  is  generally  known  as  the  field  trial 
strain.  Sweetheart  was  "sent  east  and  bred  to 
Sportsman  (Gladstone-Sue).  From  this  union 
came  those  two  great  performers  Sunlit  and 
Sirius.  Sunlit,  while  not  as  fast  when  running 
free  as  some  of  our  later  performers,  was  the 
fastest  dog  I  have  ever  seen  on  scattered 
birds.  In  the  final  heat  of  the  race  in  which 
she  won  the  all-age  she  fairly  flew  from 
point  to  point  until,  before  the  judges  could 
get  an  opportunity  to  call  her  up,  she  had 
scored  36  singles  in  the  one  heat.  All  of  the 
above  dogs  except  Enid  were  winners  them- 
selves, and  besides  these  the  kennels  bred  the 
following  winners:  Halaldine,  Saline, 
Stephana,  Petronella,  Pelham,  Johanna  and 
Mercury.  In  1884  H.  T.  Payne  brought  to  the 
Coast  Jolly  Planter  (Plantagenet-Countess 
Flirt)  and  Princess  Claude  (Burgunthal's 
Rake-Iowa  Queen)  and  later  Stanford 
(Count  Noble-Ruby's  Girl)  Lily  C.  (Cable- 
Winnepeg  Belle)  Fred  W.  (Count  Noble- 
Spark)  and  Del  Sur  (Eugene  T.-Bess  of 
Hatchie).  From  Stanford  and  Lily  C.  came 
the  well-known' winner,  Countess  Noble. 

From  1890  to  1893  quite  a  number  of  fine 
bred  setters  were  brought  to  the  Coast  by  T. 
J.  Watson,  P.  D.  Linville,  Thos  Higgs,  E.  K. 
Gardner  and  Geo.  Crocker,  until  by  this  time 
the  quality  of  the  setter  blood  on  the  Coast 
was  equal  to  that  of  the  best,  and  many  good 
dogs  were  produced  every  year. 

Joe,  Henry  and  George  ^Bassford  were  the 
pioneer  importers  and  breeders  of  thorough- 
bred pointers  of  the  Coast,  and  to  these 
gentlemen  and  Messrs.  Post  and  Watson  are 
due  in  a  very  great  measure  the  early  success 
of  the  Pacific  Coast  trials. 


462 


WESTERN  FIELD 


The  Bassfords  began  their  importations  in 
1880  bringing  out  Ranger  Boy  (Dilley's 
Ranger-Royal  Fan)  Beautiful  Queen  (Dilley's 
Ranger-Queen)  and  Josie  Bow  (King  Bow- 
JoJie).  At  the  time  of  her  death  Josie  Bow 
had  the  greatest  record  as  a  field  trial  dam 
of  any  pointer  bitch  in  America,  being  the 
mother  of  six  winners.  From  these  kennels 
came  the  following  winners :  Butte  Bow, 
Bow  Jr..  Lemmie  B.,  Solano  B.,  Victor  II., 
Blossom,  Frank,  Lottie  B.,  Sankey  B.,  Rose, 
Queen's  Last  and  Adelia. 

Win.  Schreiber  imported  from  Scotland  in 
March.  1885.  two  finely  bred  pointers.  Moun- 
tain Boy  (Grouse-Nell)  and  Lassie  (Prince- 
Forest  Lily).  In  1888  he  also  imported  two 
more  from  the  same  country.  These  were 
Sal  S.  (Brag  IV.-Forest  Queen  II)  and. Nestor 
(Gladsome-Forest  Queen  ID.  Sal  S.  was 
imported  in  whelp  to  Don  (Drake-Jewell). 
In  1891  Mr.  Schrieber  sent  Sal  S.  east  and 
bred  her  to  Rip  Rap.  thus  introducing  to  the 
Coast  the  first  of  the  blood  of  that  famous 
dog.  Mountain  Boy,  Lassie  and  Nestor  were 
all  winners  in  the  trials. 

A.  B.  Truman  began  the  importation  of 
pointers  in  1886,  by  bringing  out  Romp  P. 
and  Rush  T.  both  by  Sensation  out  of  Seph  G. 
In  the  year  following  he  added  that  fine 
specimen  of  the  breed  Patti  C-oxteth  T.  by 
Croxteth  out  of  Patti  M.  Patti  Croxteth 
proved  a  winner  in  the  trials  but  her  greatest 
victories  were  on  the  bench. 

J.  Martin  Barney  of  Dutch  Flat  figured 
prominently  in  the  earlier  years  of  the  trials.. 
He  brought  to  the  Coast  in  1885  that  fine  dog 
Tom  Pinch  (Wise's  Tom-Beulah)  and  the 
year  following  he  purchased  Galatea  (Nick  of 
Naso-Temptation) . 

H.  R.  Brown  imported  in  1886  a  fine  bitch 
Donna   Sensation    (Sensation- Seph   G.). 

R.  T.  Vandervort,  coming  to  the  Coast 
to  make  it  his  home  in  1887,  brought  with 
him  two  well-known  pointers  of  superb  breed- 
ing. These  were  Vandervort's  Don  (Price's 
Bang-Peg)  and  Drab  (Dan-Arrow). 

P.  D.  Linville  was  the  pioneer  in  the  black 
pointers  that  proved  popular  on  the  Coast 
for  a  time.  He  imported  a  brace  of  this 
breed  in  1886.  but  death  claimed  them  both 
shortly  after  their  arrival.  James  Watson 
took  up  the  breed  a  couple  of  years  later, 
importing  Old  Black  Joe,  who  won  the  derby 
and  all-age  the  year  following.  Losing  him 
by  death  Watson  soon  imported  another 
brace  of  the  same  strain  from  which  he  bred 


several  winners.  By  1890  the  breed  was  rep- 
resented mi  the  coast  by  a  large  number  of 
dogs  and  bitches  of  the  finest  breeding,  which 
have  been  constantly  added  to  until  today  the 
Pacific  Coast  can  boast  of  as  good  blood  in 
either  breed  as  is  to  be  found  anywhere.  The 
sportsman's  spirit  of  Tevis,  Terry,  Van  Ars- 
dale,  Cox,  Christenson,  Considine,  Tiede- 
mann  and  many  others  have  constantly  added 
the  best  blood  of  the  East.  But  with  these 
later  importations  all  are  familiar ;  I  am  writ- 
ing only  of  the  pioneers  in  the  sport — of  the 
men  and  the  dogs  that  first  made  the  trials 
a   success. 

•  *      *      * 

I    NOTICE    that    the    Field    and    Fancy    in    quoting 
some  of  my  articles  recently  credited  them  to  H. 
L.  Betten.     This  is  hard  on   Retten  and  I  suppose 
he  will  be  demanding  an   apology,   or  the  alternative. 
Pegging  awls   behind   a   stump  at  forty   yards  are  mv 
favorite  weapons  in  such  affairs  of  honor. 


rHE    Hunt    Kennels    of    Gillette,    Wyoming,    has    a 
pack    of    twenty -five    Russian    wolfhounds    that 
are    said    to    be    fine    coyote    dogs.       They    are 
unted  in   several   small   packs,  and  are  said  to  finish 
coyote    in     short    notice.       They    should    be    fast 
nough   to  pick   up  a   coyote   readily,   and   if  properly 
■ained  should  have  the  grit  to  kill. 


TRAINERS  AND  TRIALS 

Editor   Western    Field: 

IN  YOUR  last  month's  issue  Mr.  C.  H.  Babcock 
had  a  communication  which  embodied  a  slur  upon 
the  Pacific  Coast  Field  Trial  Club  that  must  in 
justice  to  the  club  be  refuted.  The  Pacific  Coast 
Field  Trials  Club  does  not  now,  and  never  did,  owe 
a  handler  one  single  cent — either  in  whole  or  in 
part,  of  any  purse  offered  at  its  trials.  The  club  does 
not  now  deal,  nor  has  it  ever  before  dealt,  with  the 
handlers   in   its   offering   of  purses.     The   club   neither 


i,  or  other 
n  its  trials 
!  to  break 
deals    with 


be    per- 


kuows  nor  cares  what  wages,  compensat 
inducements  the  owners  of  the  dogs  run 
pay,  give  or  offer  to  the  men  they  h 
their  dogs.  The  club,  in  other  words 
the  owners,  not  with  their  employees. 

The  trouble  with  Mr.  Babcock  is  that  h« 
handler  friends  had  too  good  a  thing  to 
petuated,  or  at  least  it  appears  so  from  his  own 
statement.  No  doubt  his  employer,  a  wealthy  and 
liberal  man,  paid  him  a  salary  commensurate  with 
his  services,  to  which,  according  to  general  under- 
standing, he  added  all  that  the  dogs  won  in  the 
trials. 

For  several  years  the  club  has  been  paying  all 
of  the  expenses  of  the  trials, — hundreds  of  dollars 
each  year, — from  the  dues  of  its  members,  and  then 
giving  all  of  the  profit  and  entrance  money  in  the 
derby,  all-age  and  champion  stakes  to  the  winners. 
This,  in  many  years,  has  resulted  in  the  club's  giving 
larger  purses  than  offered  by  any  other  club  in  the 
Union.  As  the  expenses  of  the  trials  increased  year 
by    year,    the    club    had    to    double    the    dues    of    the 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


463 


members,  making  them  now  greater  than  that  of 
any  other  club  in  America.  But  even  this  has  not 
been  sufficient  to  meet  the  expenses,  and  additional 
assessments  have  been  levied,  and  even  contributions 
asked  for  as  well.  Two  years  ago  the  club  decided 
to  limit  the  purses  to  such  sums  as  were  paid  in  by 
the  actual  starters  in  each  stake.  This  action  of  the 
club  was  unanimous,  all  of  the  owners  of  large 
kennels,  including  Mr.  Babcock's  employer,  voting 
for  it.  But  inasmuch  as  this  cut  off  some  of  Mr. 
Babcock's  income  he,  not  unnaturally,  had  a  griev- 
ance, and  last  year  refused  to  receive — for  his 
employer,  remember —  the  share  of  the  purses  which 
his  dogs  won.  It  is  certainly  the  club's  right  to 
offer  whatever  purses  it  sees  fit.  These  may  consist 
ribbons  if  it  wishes,  and  if 
or  the  quality  of  the  pot- 
meet  with  Mr.  Babcock's 
'  to  compel  him  to  run  his 
when,  in  obedience  to  his 
Babcock  attends  the  trials 
r's    dogs    under    the    club's 


But 


,ot   money,   cups 
the    amounts    oi 
metal    or    the    e 
approval,   there 
employer's    dog: 
employer's    orde 
to    handle    that    employer's 
rules,    whether    "obsolete" 
amenable  to  them.      He  kne 
he  is  entitled  to  if  he  wins, 
on   the  part   of  the   club   to 
In    Mr.    Babcock's   cooli 
regret  his  unwarranted 
the    apology    d 
made  his  profe 
on  this   Coast. 


not,     he 


logically 
lust   what 


beforehanc 

d  there  is  no  coercion 

lforce   his    competition. 

moments   he   will   doubtless 

sinuation   and  frankly  tender 

i    generous    gentlemen    who    have 

possible — as  well   as  profitable — 

FAIR  PLAY. 


A  SUGGESTION  TO  OWNERS 

THE  Pacific  Coast  Setter  and  Pointer  Club  has 
been  organized  to  promote  the  interests  of 
English,  Irish  and  Gordon  Setters,  and 
Pointers.  The  following  excerpt  from  its  by-laws  is 
worthy   of  careful   reading: 

"The  name  of  this  club  shall  be  the  Pacific  Coast 
Setter  and  Pointer  Club.  It  shall  encourage  the 
breeding  and  correct  training  of  English,  Irish  and 
Gordon  Setters  and  Pointers.  It  shall  hold  bench 
shows,  co-operate  with  kennel  clubs  in  the  holding 
of  bench  shows  and  encourage  the  actual  use  in  the 
field  of  the  above-named  breeds,  so  that  they  may  be 
better  shooting  companions.  It  shall  be  the  object 
of  this  club  to  confer  with  all  kennel  clubs  holding 
bench  shows  upon  the  Pacific  Coast  and  to  suggest 
to  them  that  they  choose  special  judges  to  pass  upon 
the  merits  of  these  breeds,  and  in  every  way  in  its 
power  it  shall  be  the  object  of  this  club  to  protect 
and    advance  the   breeds   above   mentioned." 

The  Oakland  Kennel  Club  will  hold  its  annual 
bench  show  in  March  or  May,  1908,  and,  with  un- 
exampled generosity,  has  provided  a  special  judge 
for  pointers  and  setters.  Mr.  T.  P.  McConnell  of 
Victoria,  B.  C,  who  has  been  an  importer,  ex- 
hibitor and  breeder  for  more  than  twenty  years  and 
who  during  all  that  time  has  been  a  close  student  of 
what  a  field  and  show  dog  should  be,  and  who  is 
now  recognized  as  one  of  the  best  judges  of  sporting 
dogs  in  America,  will  pass  upon  the  merits  of  these 
breeds.  This  will  give  the  California  fanciers  a  rare 
opportunity  to  have  a  recognized  authority  pass 
upon   their   dogs. 

It  is  the  desire  of  the  Oakland  Kennel  Club  to 
have  upon  its  benches  at  the  coming  show  every  good 


dog  owned  in  California.  Therefore  they  are  solicit- 
ing entries  for  the  same.  In  order  that  they  may 
know  about  how  many  dogs  will  be  benched,  they 
request  that  owners  write  this  club  stating  what 
dogs  they  think  will  be  entered.  Send  them  at  once 
any  photographs  you  may  have  of  your  dogs,  to- 
gether with  a  description  of  same  and  their  win- 
nings, and  they  will  give  the  matter  the  widest  pub- 
licity in  their  power  in  the  public  press  and  the 
sporting  magazines.  Should  you  know  of  any  other 
persons  owning  setters  or  pointers,  you  will  confer 
a  favor  by  sending  their  names  and  addresses  to 
this  club,  and  we  urge  upon  you  that  it  is  to  your 
best  interests  that  you  enter  your  dogs.  The  Oak- 
land Kennel  Club  will  offer  an  unusually  attractive 
number  of  prizes,  and,  in  addition  to  these,  this 
club  will  offer  quite  a  number  of  specials.  These 
prizes  are  not  given  to  be  competed  for  by  club 
members  only,  but  any  dog  entered  in  the  regular 
classes  may  compete  for  any  of  these  specials.  It 
is  their  desire  that  one  hundred  English  setters  and 
other  dogs  in  goodly  numbers  face  the  judge  at 
this  show.  They  ask  your  assistance  and  hearty  co- 
operation in  making  this  the  grandest  show  of 
sporting   dogs  ever   held   on  the   Pacific   Coast. 

There  is  much  work  to  be  done  in  the  matter  and 
they  solicit  your  immediate  reply.  Should  you  not 
be  able  to  attend  the  show  in  person  and  yet  desire 
to  show  your  dogs,  you  can  send  them  to  the  show, 
and  upon  writing  to  this  club  they  will  delegate 
some  club  member  to  show  your  dogs  in  the  ring, 
thus  guaranteeing  that  they  will  be  properly  placed 
before  the  jtfdge  and  receive  their  proper  rating  in 
the  prize  list. 

*        *        * 

A  CORRECTION 

IN     OUR    December    issue    we    stated    that     Fleets 
Sargeant  was  reserve  winners  at  Stockton.    This  is 
an   error;    Mallwyd   Beau,   the  seven   and  one-half 
months    old    puppy,    beat    every    dog    and    bitch    in 
English    setter    classes,    excepting    Tiverton,    he    an- 
nexing .winners    while    Mallwyd     Beau    won    reserve 


THE    American    Field    says:      "The   second    annual 
trials  of  the  Field  Trials  Club  of  New  England 
were   held   at    Hampton,    Conn.,    on   Wednesday, 
October  30th,   and   were   as   great   a  success   as   trials 
can   be   which   are  run   without   game."      My,   what   a 
chance  for  a  "class"  crazy  judge! 


WHAT  ARE  THEY  GETTING  TO? 

IT  IS  really  discouraging  to  one  who  loves  the  real 
English  setter  for  his  beauty,  symmetry  and 
stately  appearance,  to  see  in  the  sportsmen's 
journals  the  pictures  of  the  long-haired  dogs,  yclept 
English  setters,  that  have  been  placed  in  the  field 
trials.  These  pictures,  mostly  taken  on  point,  repre- 
sent an  apple-headed,  snipy -nosed,  stilt y  dog  with 
his  tail  curled  over  his  back  like  a  spitz.  In  short, 
about  as  far  from  the  beautiful  outlines  of  an  English 
setter  as  possible.  These  caricatures  win  on  "class," 
and  foolish  breeders  rush  their  bitches  to  them  and 
thus  not  only  perpetuate  but  intensify  the  unshapely 
formation  of  these  travesties  on  a  once  handsome 
breed.  Each  year  they  grow  worse  and  worse. 
Where  will  it  end? 


464 


WESTERN  FIELD 


TrapeTopics] 


A    GREATER    SAN    FRANCISCO    ASSURED 

THE  campaign  for  a  Greater  San  Francisco  is 
now  fairly  launched,  and  the  matter  is  one  of 
interest  to  the  entire  State  of  California.  It 
is  proposed  to  take  in  the  territory  with  a  radius  of 
fifteen  miles  on  an  air  line  from  the  City  Hall  of 
San  Francisco.  This  would  include  the  towns  on 
the  south  as  far  as  San  Mateo,  and  across  the  Bay, 
Fruitvale,  Alameda.  Oakland,  Berkeley,  Richmond, 
San  Rafael  and  interlying  territory,  in  all  covering 
an  area  of  approximately  ISO  square  miles,  and 
figuring  the  present  estimate  of  population  of  this 
area,  there  would  be  807,655  people  in  fhe  Greater 
San  Francisco  as  proposed.  This  fact  in  itself  will 
be  a  great  advertisement  to  the  State  of  California, 
and  will  place  San  Francisco  fourth  in  rank  with 
cities  of  the  country,  instead  of  eighth  place  which 
it   now   enjoys. 

The  California  Promotion  Committee,  the  pioneer 
in  the  movement  for  greater  cities  in  California,  has 
been  for  nearly  two  years  accumulating  data  and 
securing  information  regarding  other  cities  of  the 
world  that  have  consolidated,  and  is  now  in  posi- 
tion to  show  the  great  benefits  that  accrue  by  such 
action.  The  committee  takes  the  position  that  this 
subject  is  one  of  general  State  interest,  and  has 
announced  that  it  will  assist  in  every  way  possible 
other  committees  of  California  that  wish  to  take 
action  similar  to  the  action  that  has  already  been 
taken  in  San  Francisco  and  cities  about  San  Fran- 
cisco Bay.  This  probably  has  special  reference  to 
Los  Angeles  and  contiguous  territory.  Los  An- 
geles has  for  some  years  been  desirous  of  annexing 
considerable  area  tributary  to  the  present  city,  and 
in  its  efforts  it  will  have  the  hearty  support  of  The 
California  Promotion  Committee.  The  entire  State 
of  California  should  get  behind  this  movement,  as 
the  consummation  of  the  project  is  much  to  be  de- 
sired. 


THEY   AVERAGED  98   PER  CENT 

THE  Winchester  Red-W  squad  of  world's  cham- 
pion shots,  who  have  been  shooting  at  tourna- 
ments in  the  South  and  who  have  been  break- 
ing old  and  making  new  world's  records  with  an 
abandon  that  has  astonished  the  shooting  fraternity, 
recently  tacked  up  another  world's  record  for  squad 
shooting,  breaking  496  out  of  500  in  an  open  tourna- 
ment, snooting  over  Leggett  traps  at  Leesburg,  Fla., 
November  21st.  The  scores  of  the  individual  mem- 
bers were  as  follows:  W.  R.  Crosbv  and  J.  R. 
Taylor,  both  100  straight.  Fred  Gilbert,  98-100; 
J.  M.  Hawkins,  99-100;  L.  R.  Barkley,  99-100.  This 
same  squad  shot  at  another  500  targets  and  scored 
484,  making  the  total  score  of  980  x  1000.  The 
whole  performance  is  remarkable,  and  shows  not 
only  what  expert  shots  the  members  of  this  squad 
are,  but  also  lays  emphasis  on  the  high  quality  of 
the  Winchester  shot  gun  shells,  which  they  are  all 
using,  and  also  draws  attention  to  the  shooting 
qualities  of  Winchester  .repeating  shotguns,  as 
-     Taylor,    Hawkins     and    Barkley     are     using 


W.&J.SLOANE&CO. 


Complete  stock 

CARPETS 

ORIENTAL  RUQS 
FURNITURE 
DRAPERIES,  Etc. 


Sutter    and    Van    Ness 


them   als 


The  Best 

Champagne 

is  Veuve 
Clicquot 

Sec  and  Brut 

Cruse  and  Fits  Freres 

Red  and  White 

Wines 

Ami  Vignier 

Pacific  Coast  Agency 

Southeast  corner 
Battery  and  Broadway  Sts. 

San  Francisco,  Cal. 

When  Writing  Advertisers  Please  Mention  "WESTERN  FIELD." 


THE  PACIFIC  COAST  MAGAZINE 


465 


STATE  LAWS  AND  THE  SALE  OF  FIREARMS 

THE  prohibition,  through  legislative  enactment,  of 
the  sale  of  firearms  in  Georgia,  South  Carolina, 
and  other  Southern  States,  has  aroused  wide- 
spread discussion  as  to  the  constitutionality  of  state 
laws  of  this  character,  says  Fred.  I.  Johnson,  of 
Fitchburg,  Massachusetts,  in  presenting  the  situa- 
tion from  the  viewpoint  of  the  manufacturer  in 
Success   Magazine. 

The  movement  by  the  Legislatures  of  certain 
states  to  prohibit  the  sale  of  firearms  within  those 
states  is,  beyond  doubt,  unconstitutional;  it  is  detri- 
mental to  the  business  interests  of  the  states  in 
question,  without  in  any  way  restricting  the  quantity 
of  firearms  purchased  and  in  use;  it  is  intended  to 
deprive  those  who  live  in  ru 
protection  is  inadequate,  01 
means  to  protect  themselves 
property;  it  is  a  hardship 
merchants,  for,  while  the  la 
firearms  by  hundreds  of  ha 


al  districts  where  poli. 
wholly  lacking,  of  tl 
their  families,  and  the 
o  an  excellent  class 
/  proscribes  the  sale  i 
rdware  stores  in  the  states 


affected,  it  does  not  prevent  the 
such  arms  elsewhere,  and  the  mone; 
goes,  not  into  the  coffers  of  the  loci 
into  those  of  great  business  houses 
Such  a  result  is  demoralizing  to  the  t 
in  question,  and  to  the  firearms  m 
dustry   as  well. 

It   cannot    be   denied   that    firearms   have   been   mis 
used  in  many  instances,  and  have  caused  no  little  los; 
of  life.     The  same  is  true,  however,  of  many  utilities 
with    which    civilization    could    ill    afford    to   dispense 
The   trollev    car,   the   railway,  the   passenger   elevator 
the  steamship,  the  automobile,   and   other  modern  de 
vices  cost  thousands  of  lives  annually,  yet  what  sant 
legislator  would   introduce   a   measure  prohibiting  tht 
use  of  any  one  of  these?     In  its  own  field  of  useful 
ness   the   small    arm   is    fully    as   beneficial    as 
them,   and   exacts   a  much   smaller  toll   in  human   Iif 
Only    a   very    small    percentage    of   the   firearms   man 
factured   pass   into  the  hands   of  the  criminal   classe 
The    great    majority    of   them    are    purchased    by    la\ 
abiding  householders  and  are  kept  in  their  homes  f< 
the  protection  of  themselves  and  their  families  again 


from  buying 
ms  expended 
lerchant,  but 
other  states. 
2  of  the  state 
fa-turing    in- 


of 


-breakii 
man,  and  the 
jack.       Such 
abiding    citizt 
make  all  the 
fore,  his  ideal 


Ho 


infiu 


ti    in    tho 
protects 


manv     com  mini 

at  all?  And 
joying  the  best  pol 
many  instances  are  on  recorc 
have  arrived  in  time  to  preven, 
after  the  robber  had  fled?  It 
ebreaker   fears,   but   th 


'he  burglar,  the  highway - 
;r  the  knife  and  the  black- 
ke  no  noise.  The  law- 
when  attacked,  wants  to 
and  the  revolver  is,  there- 

tcellent  institution,  if  only 
t  exerts.  In  how  many 
le  police  force  inadequate ! 
"th    no    police 


the  citi; 
lent.  Let 
man  feel  a; 
by  law  froi 
a    revolver 


the  housebre; 
sured  that  the 
1  purcha 
or    othe 


nail- 


obtainable,  how 
/hich  the  police 
a  robbery,  instead  of 
;  not  the  police  that 
defensive  weapon  of 
;rs  with  criminal  in- 
nd  the  second-story 
:-owner  is  prohibited 
ne  in  his  possession 
rill    work 


and 
w  that  the  greatest 
ly  danger  he  fears — 
stitutionality  of  any 
)f    firearms    is    made 


'ill    kn 
danger  to  himself— in  fact,  the  c 
has   been   eliminated.      The  unco 
state    law    prohibiting    the    sale    of    f 
plain    by   reference   to    Article    II    of   Amendment 
the  Constitution  of  the  United  States,  which  read 

"A  well-regulated  militia  being  necessary  to 
security  of  a  free  State,  the  right  of  the  peopl 
keep   and   bear  arms  shall  not  be  infringed." 

The    provisions    of    this    section    are    broader 


to 


they  would 


not 


they 

purpo 

An 


tily  the 


to  the  superficial  reader.     They  per 


iffitia  to  keep   and   bear 


but 


mime 


right   of  the   i 
distinctly    say 

The  Legislatures  of  Georg 
have  acted  hastily  as  well 
Had  they  given  careful  cons 
of  the  question,  it  is  very 
prohibitory  laws  would  hav 
sidered. 


to   do. 

■ict  this  privilege  to  the  militia,  the 
uld  have  been  made  to  read,  "the 
itia  to  keep  and  bear  arms;"  but  it 
"the   people" 

and  South  Carolina 
I  unconstitutionally, 
■ation  to  both  sides 
lbtful  whether  such 
Deen     seriously     con- 


SULTAN  BATHS 


624  POST  STREET,  Bet.  Taylor  and  Jones 
-Telephone  Franldin  2466  


ALL  THE  COMFORTS 
of  a  modern  hotel  and  club 
combined,  with  the  additional 
convenience  of  Turkish,  Rus- 
sian and  Salt  Water  baths  at 
the  prices  ordinarily  paid  for 
mere  hotel  accommodations. 
Safe  deposit  boxes,  laundry, 
sideboard,  manicure,  chiropo- 
dist and  tonsorial  parlors. 
Elegant  dining  and  sleeping 
rooms,  single  or  en  suite.  Mod- 
ern Class  A  fire  and  earthquake 
proof  building.  A  place  to  live, 
dine  and  bathe  luxuriously  when 
you  come  to  San  Francisco,  at 
surprisingly  moderate  rates. 

For  reservations  or  other  information  address: 

SULTAN   TURKISH   BATH   CO. 

624  POST  STREET,  between  Taylor  and  Jones 


When  Writing  Adverti: 


"WESTERN  FIELD.' 


•466 


WESTERN  FIELD 


GRADE  B.S 


DAVIS 

GUNS. 


ASK 
YOUR  DEALER. 

Pacific  Coast  Agents 

THE  RALPH  BROWN  CO.,  san  F«nci«o 


Write  for  Catalogue 


YOU   WANT   THESE! 

TO  THE  courtesy  of  the  Dupont  Powder  Company 
we  are  indebted  for  an  advance  copy  of  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  and  valuable  calendars 
ever  issued  in  America,  a  small  half-tone  reproduc- 
tion of  which,  in  greatly  reduced  size,  is  herewith 
appended.  The  background  is  a  dull  olive  brown, 
with     chocolate    date    leaves     and     the    picture     is     a 


k DU  PONT  $ 


I  1908      JANUARY      1908 


T    1     2    3    4 
5    6    7    8    9  10  11 
€     12  13  14  15  16  17  18 
19  20  21  22  23  24  25 
►'.  26  27, 28  29  30  31  ll 


DU  PONT  EXPLOSIVES 
106  years  Experience 


14  by  18  inch  reproduction  in  full  color  of  Edm.  H. 
Osth'aus'  famous  painting  of  "Joe  Cummings,"  win- 
ner of  the  National  Field  Trials  Championship,  1S99 
— an  exquisite  bit  of  pictorial  art.  The  E.  I.  du  Pont 
de  Xemours  Powder  Company,  Wilmington,  Del., 
will  furnish  direct  from  the  home  office,  or  through 
any  of  the  branch  offices  mentioned  below,  copies  of 
this  calendar  to  anyone  who  sends  ten  (10)  cents 
in   stamps   or   coin,   mentioning  Western   Field. 

In  addition  to  this  engaging  offer,  the  Dupont 
Company  announces  that  for  years  Mr.  Osthaus  has 
painted  for  them,  each  year,  the  portrait  of  the  winner 


of  the  National  Field  Trials  Championship,  from 
which  they  are  preparing  reproductions  of  the  same 
size  as  the  one  of  Cummings  shown  on  the  calendar 
(about  14x18  inches)  and  now  have  ready  the  first 
series  covering  the  years   1896 — 1900   inclusive — there 


bad 


no   championship   trials 
veather  conditions.     The  pict 


of 


Count   Gladstone   IV,   champion    1896. 

Tony's   Gale,   champion    1898. 

Joe  Cummings.  champion  1899. 

Ladies'   Count  Gladstone,  champion    1900. 

These  beautiful  pictures,  comprising  some  of  Ost- 
haus' best  work  in  water  colors,  are  faithfully  repro- 
duced in  the  exact  original  colors  on  wide  margined 
plates,  suitable  for  framing,  and  contain  no  adver- 
tising of  any  kind.  They  will  be  sent  separately  in 
protective   tubes   for    75    cents   each,   or   the   series 


for    S2.S0. 


The 
nd   as   the   editi 


nominal   pri< 

tion  should  be  made  at  once. 

Either  calendar  or  ,the  art  s 
may  be  had  directly  from  thi 
Xemours  Co.,  Wilmington,  Del. 
houses  (preferably  the  latt< 


itable    finds    at    this 
m   is  limited   applica- 

?ries   above   mentioned 
E.    I.     du     Pont     de 
,  or  from  their  branch 
hich  are  as  follows: 


ingham,  Ala. 
Chicago,    111. 
Cincinnati.    Ohio. 
Denver,    Colo. 
Duluth,   Minn. 
Hazleton,  Pa. 
Houghton.    Mich. 
Huntingdon.    \V.     < 
Toplin,  Mo. 
Kansas   City.   Mo. 
Nashville,  Tenn. 
New   York,    N.   Y. 
Philadelphia.    Pa. 
Pittsburg.   Pa. 
San  Francisco,  Cal 
Scranton,  Pa. 
St.  Louis,  Mo. 
ion  Western  Field. 


ForGuns 


"3  in  One"  Oil  Has  No  Equal 

for  oiling  trigger,  lock,  every  action  part.  Does 
not  dry  out  quickly  like  heavier  oils,  gum,  harden 
or  collect  dust  no  matter  how  long  gun  stands. 
"3  in  One"  cleans  out  the  residue  of  burnt  powder 
(black  or  smokeless)  after  shooting,  leaving  the 
barrel  cleanand  shiny.  It  actually  penetrate 
the  pores  of  the  metal,  forming  a  delicate  per 
manent  protecting  coat  that  is  absolutely 
impervious  to  water  or  weather.  No  acid 
T^  A  test  will  tell.    W  rite  for  samph 

tree  bottie.  g.w.cole  compasy 

110  »w  St..  NewYork.N.^ 


[rates 

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