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Lea diagrammas suivants illustrent la mAthode. ly errata ed to int me peiure. i9on h 1 2 3 azx 1 2 3 4 5 6 r« FRANk H)I'.t:6TKK. % ; \ N !■ ;■ 0 11 i^ . i; ji'-: >^ P O \:l 'I Vj r .-V T 1 ; ^•; 'S -1 1: ■ X ..; ■" K 1 1' \ '. }••. !• 'v :S ■ RXr- iV ..J'A '.f! '■*-*^ ^■^S5i»*e=-i»r — -'- ' ■ fW,^'.:'^*'^^:,- %• ■ini^m.' m .H' mm^'[ t^m^'m ■is'r' ::■•«« '/ ray/ ili^H* P .li5« ■^ y/'>^ V/' '.(--f. J vl^ / /"■?,. ^ X"'*'' '^'■'/■'''^'. -. y?y-:fk.' f li-*' i'^- ,.ir.„-'' f ; FlUNK I'ORESTER'S FIELD 8 POETS OP Tro: UNITED STATES AND BRITISn PROVINCES OF NORTH AMERICA. BY t£K]srRY avilliam: hkrbkrt, AlTTUOa OP KKANK FORESTER'S "FlSIt \Sl> FlSIII.yn," "HORSE AND UOKSaaANSim' " "TUB (JO- PUSTK MAN-tr.VL POl: YOUNO SPORTSMEN," UrO. Thorp ts rxTiIInrnticm tn tho rh.nsp— N(jt hoilily only. * * ♦ * * It )s a rufnu'lod rnptiiri'. nnd wo find Tho bodily spirit mountinjr to tlio minfl. Sir Kukrtox Brtdoes. NEW KDITION, CONTAININO NnfEROTTS COnr.KCTIOVS AWD ABDITIONB WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FliOM NATURE, AND A BEIEF MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR. IN TWO VOLUMES, VOL. I. NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY W. A. TOWNSEND & ADAMS, 18U8. SK Mi rH55 Entered accutdiiig to en Act of Cor .ss, In the year 1848, BV STRINGER AND TOWNSEND. In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New-York C. A. ALVOUD, Pbinikr. No. 15 Vandewatcr Stri'tt, N. ^ To coi^ONiar. WADK Hampton, OF "THE WOODLANDS," SOUTH OAROUNA, THIS WORK ON THE ffitlb Sports of tlje EnileJr ^trttes, BRITISH PEOVmCES OF NO?Tif AMERICA, 18 VERV RE8PECTPPLLY DEUICATED, AS A TRIBUTE OP HOMAOB TO TU» FIRST SPORTSMAN IN THE LAND BY fits OBD't servant, FRANK FORESTER. 420,99 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ®f Volume t and naturalist, who kindly laid open his cabinet for my use. Since issuing my first edition, many criticisms— some very cor- rect and courteous, others just as incorrect, uncandid, and ungen- tlemanly — have led me to review some of my opinions ; and those which are found incorrect, will be found entirely altered and re- written. This is the case with the article on the Pinnated Grouse, concerning which I have obtained much valuable infor- mation from an eminent Western sportsman, which will be found embodied in this edition. A tour to the North-West and the Great Lakes has enabled me to give some farther information regarding that very interesting region ; and much commuuion during this spring with a very well „uown Prairie and Rocky Mountain Hunter, Mr. T. M. Adams, of Independence, Missouri, has confirmed me in some of my views, and enabled me to correct errors in others in relation to the Wild Sports of tha West. This said, nothing remains but to express my hope, that my labors may be not wholly vain, and that my doctrines may meet the favorable censure of those, for whose use they are intended — THE Sportsmen of America. HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. The above preface is the latest prepared by Mr. Herbert, while antici- pating the pleasure of is.suing this revised edition, shortly prior to his sudduii decease. The index also, has been carefully adapted to the numerous addi- tions in the work, and is now believed to be both accurate and complete. / 'i A FEW MEMOIRS OF HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, BETTER AND MORE FAMILIARLY KMOWX AS 4 ( FRANK FORESTER." The web of our life is of a mingled ynrn, good and 111 toftether : our virtues would be proud If our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would despair if they were nut cherished by our vlrtucE."— Shakespeakb. [The publisher intended to have availed himself of the pleasing pen of one of Mr. Herbert's most intimate n.ad most esteemed friends, the late William T. Porter, Esq., the popular editor of the " Spirit of the Times," as the best qualified and most suitable biographer of the departed "Frank Forester." Mr. Porter, however, being in feeble health, the following sketch was prepared by a mutual friend of all the parties, with the inten- tion of obtaining Mr. Porter's approval as a prefix. In the mean time, a verification occurred of the solemn proverb, "Man proposes — God dis- poses." William T. Porter himself is now numbered among those who have " gone before." The publisher is enabled to say, however, that the manuscript of the following sketch has been examined by several of the most prominent associates of both the deceased gentlemen, connected with either the Press or the Turf, and it has been honored with their entire and most cordial approbation.] After the injunction of "silence," so earaestlj im- plored by the unfortunate — infelicissimus, most unfor- tunate— gentleman whose real and assumed names are here mentioned, there may, possibly, be some appearance xu A FKW ME:!ir0IKS OF of presum])tion, ov disi-cspcct, in making any attempt at a relation ot'tlie principal incidents in his lite. Still, as " Frank Forester," the lover of Xatnre, the charming writer, the Shakespeare of sporting literature, Herbert's name and fame have now become a species of American public property, as it were, in which every person using the English language takes a hearty interest ; and, without intending any disregard to the personal wishes of their dear, departed friend — for such his read- ers all feel and know him to be — his spiritual life and his literary influence have v.ow commenced to shine forth in their true gloiy, and possess a greater hold than ever upon the public mind, as if enough never could be writ- ten or printed concerning so versatile and fascinating an author. Yes, indeed ; by the matchless works Herbert has left to s])eak for him, he is with ns more than ever — in spirit — upon tlie hill-top, in the flowery dell, tracing the sides of mountain brooks from bright and breezy eminences, or holding lofty communion with Nature among the leafy arclics and solemn shades in our glorious old woods. As a writer, he has stamped tlie current impress of his gen- ius upon a yoimg and confederated nation, just beginning to find out its vast possessions in topography and resources, yielding to its inhabitants almost every variety of climate and production. "Frank Forester," with his pen, ac- companies us like some well-experienced surveyor, walk- ing about with a divining rod. " Our Fraidc " does more. He pleasantly introduces us to this, that, or the other — whatever may be most worthy of observation — in earth, air, or water. He points out how to cherish and preserve what an all-bountiful Providence has in store for the active, the patient, or the resolute. He is the "Peter Parley " of his delighted followers. Wo incontinently shoulder our smooth-bore, lug the knapsack, or continue HENRY WILLIAM IIEKBERT. xm to hold a fisliing-rod with botli hands, perhaps, even if some attendant mosquitoes are busily digging into our cuticle. "We feel fairly enlisted, with all our manhood. We could follow such a leader as Herbert to any Sebas- topol, or through any Dismal Swamp. Health and activ- ity would thus give Mercury's wings to our heels, secur- ing a firm cohesion for our brains ; and, in town or country, in house or field, while the English language goes on growing in grace or grandeur, the fame and in- fluence of Henry William Herbert must be ever present among our household sentiments and familiar conversa- tions, especially as not one of his loritings can he found to contain any improper tendencies. No wonder that the name of " Fraidc Forester " is already ranked among the most endearing of our "household words." Wherever we may go, the s^nrit of this instructive and pleasing writer seems to bo with us. If we only look ont upon the road, or go to the stable, we are reminded of Herbert's influence as soon as our eyes rest upon a horse. The horse itself has advanced in comfort and civilization, so to speak, although ho may never have known the bene- factor of his race, perhaps, in the flesh — never had an opportunity to trustingly rest his nose on Herbert's shoul- der. But, Herbert has reached that horse. The genial spirit of " Frank Forester " has penetrated and dis})ersed the dark days of mismanagement, whispering a good word or two in season, among the right parties, appealing to the natural afi'ections of the noble animal, and calling forth the loyal response of all the gallant creature's fidel- ity and endurance. This is no exaggeration. The length and breadth of this glorious land are now filled with the refreshing prac- tical philosophy taught by " Frank Forester." We say this not as a mere figure of speech ; we assert it as a fact, honorable as well to the reading public as to the author XIV A FEW MEMOIRS OF I i I II' 1^ ' 11 fc II! they thus delight to honor. By the spirituahzation of intellect in Herbert's writings, even the largest and wild- est of our American forests may become organized into classification, as if one grand cathedral for the worship of IS^ature in the study of natural history. The sunlight of intelligence seems to come over the mountain-tops, and stream in through the clearings, lake shores, or oak open- ings, as if the trees it illuminates were architectural win- dows, depicting sacred subjects for our contemplation upon stained glass, and mellowing our souls with a sub- limity of thought ascending like incense from an altar which consumes all inordinate desires and city-bred arti- ficialities. Surely then, no person who has ever read Herbert's works would intentionally mar or interfere with the legitimate operations of their genial and refining influence. No ; tlie hand now tracing these lines obeys the mind of a friend who would not, for worlds, be guilty of disre- garding the last wishes of so delightful (to him) a com- panion, and so completely qualified a public instructor as Henry William Herbert. As the priest wears a ring in token of marriage with the Church, so Herbert, with his pen in hand, was always faithful and constant to his public. A man so wayward — so peculiar — so often troublesome, apparently, to those who had actual dealings with him, is but rarely mot with ; and yet, he always had one uni- form degree of devotion to his readers. Even this was more tacit than expressed, but it was, nevertheless, uniform and consistent from the time he first began to write for the public eye. Perhaps we might say, by way of metaphor, that Herbert's only real wife was his public. Certain it is that constant devotion on his part, and in- creasing kindness on the other, has brought about a union of such indissoluble happiness as deprives death of nearly all its sting, and leaves the grave itself no victory. HENRY WILLIAil IIERBKRT. XV In accordance with and in response to a national — wo miglit almost say universal — wish for some biographical particulars relating to II. "W. Herbert, we may commence by remarking that he was no curling-tongs count, nor runaway banker's clerk, but precisely Avhat he always represented himself to be — an English gentleman, di'- scended from and connected with some of the oldest and most aristocratic families in Great Britain and Ireland. The Ilurberts (or Fitz-IIerberts, as they are frequently called in England) are undoiibtedly of ancient origin and high rank. The name of FitzJIerbert, signifying Son-ot- Ilerbert, came into vogue in consequence of the long interval between their early progenitor of im])ortance, who was lord-chamberlain to King Henry I. from about 1120 till 1135, and the creation of William Herbert as Earl of Pembroke by Edward IV. in UG8. Chamberlains were of some importance in England about those days, especially when they acted us ojficier du houchc^ or mouth-]>rovider (chief butler), for their royal masters. This office was always considered a safe position for an ambitious man. Henry I. was killed by a surfeit after eating too many lampreys — a kind of fish he was very fond of — at Lyons, in Normandy. Edward IV. generally overcame his surfeits ; but, when he made pris- oner of the Duke of Clarence, one of his brothers, who had joined in a rebellion against him x;nder the Earl ot "Warwick, he ordered the duke to be drowned in a butt of Malmsey wine, and the sentence was duly executed by the king's chief butler. These little facts are only men- tioned here in order to show that the family of Herberts would be likely to copy or inherit all the peculiar " no- tions" of monarchy since the days of the Norman kings; and, wherein tliej have not, we must give their heads and hearts credit for the diiference. The English people have gradually made their mon- XVI A FEW MEMOIRS OF I • archs understand the necessity and convenience of good beliavior. Ileniy I. was the third of the four Norman kings. Then came fourteen of tlie PUintagcnet family. Edward IV. was the twelfth among them. Then came live of the house of Tudor. Then followed six of the Stuart line. After these came five of the Brunswick line ; and, finally, Queen Victoria. Now, as Henry I. (like his brother, AVilliain Rufus) was a son of William the Conqueror, the Herberts may be said to have seen and survived nearly all the important changes in English societv. There are but two other families more ancient in the provision of good things for the royal tables. These are the Botelers and the Dalbiacs, who " came in with the Conqueror." While attempting to judge of Herbert's character, all these antecedents of his family should be considered, as of course they (unconsciously to him) helped to form in his mind those notions of classification and exclusiveness which seem so absurd and inexplicable to jiersons not acquainted with their historical origin and ancestral or legal importance. Herbert would be pleasant among gentlemen whom he knew to be such, according to his ideas ; he would also be quite afl'able and jolly among his jockey acquaintances ; but, as soon as he came near what are sometimes called "gentlemen-jocks," he seemed to try how ugly and wilful he could behave. Such was one of his " notions." He thus caused himself to be much misunderstood, and sometimes seemed to revel in the misunderstanding. He wronged himself, however, more than anybody else, for strangers cared not a snap about his notions, while those who knew him also knew that his heart was full of universal sympathy, and the sympathy- seeking cast of his mind was admirably well qualified for adapting the most matured maxims of art to the fresh feelings and candid expressioas of a free and independent ; HENRY WILLIAM IIKRBKET. XVll people, as all his writings most conclusively show, flow Irequently do the most worthy individuals and greatest nations misunderstand each other's manners and cus- toms ! The first Earl of Pembroke, already mentioned, was taken prisoner by the Lancasteriau party, and beheaded by them in about a year after he obtained his earldom. His wife was Anne Dcvereaux, sister of Lord Ferrers of Chantley. She had a large family, but William Herbert's successors became extinct in the male line after two more generations. From William's brother, however, have descended the famous Herberts of Cherbury, and one of these became Earl Powis in 1746. This line also became extinct in a similar way, and passed with a daughter of Earl Powis into the tamily of the famous Lord Clive, where it yet remains. We do not know whether there is, or need be, any "bar sinister" upon the subject in the heraldic insignia of the Herberts, but it so hapjiened that the aforesaid William Herbert, first Earl of Pembroke, left a son by a Welsh lady who bore his name of Herbert, in Montgom- eryshire. The son of that son married Anne Parr, sister of Catharine Parr, the sixth and last uife of Henry VHL This renewed the influence of the Herberts at court ; and, after "Old Harry "was dead, in the year 1551, during the reign of Edward VI., the grandson of the first earl received the title of Earl of Pembroke by a new creation, joined with that of Earl of Montgomery, inherited on the maternal side. This title is now held by Robert Herbert, a descendant of the eighth generation, but reckons by fraternal mutations of the line as the twelfth Earl of Pem- broke and the ninth Earl of Montgomery. Sidney Her- bert, late Secretary of War in the British cabinet, is a brother to this personage. Among the younger sons of Thomas Herbert, the • •• xvm A FKW MKM0IR8 OF eighth Earl of PembrolvC, was General "William Tlerbert, ■who (listiiiguished hiinselt' greatly in the public vservicc, aiul also had tlie good fortune to marry Eh'za Wyndhani, distingnislied as the grcat-grand-daugliter of tlie Duke of Somerset and of Elizabeth Percy, who was a sister of the last Earl of Northumberland, of tlie old continental line of Jdscelyn of Louvain. General William Herbert was, therefore, on these accounts, raised to the peerage, with the title of Earl of Carnarvon, in 1703. The third son of this first Earl of Carnarvon was the Hon. and Eev. "William Herbert, subsequently Dean of Manchester, and tlie father of the subject of these me- moirs. Hence, it is clear that our own " Frank Forester,"' the modern author, was a descendant of the ])roud Per- cys, the irascible Joscelyns, and the ducal Somersets, eomniingled with the agricultural Herberts, as well as the literary and liberty-loving Sidneys. On the maternal side, besides the original "Welsh blood of the Montgomery stock, he inherited an Irish influence of the very highest character, his mother being the Hon. Letitia Allyn, second daughter of Viscount Allyn of Ivildare, one of the Irish re])re8entative peers, and a branch of the princely Lein- ster line. This estimable lady is now living in May Fair, London. Herbert's father, the Dean of Manchester, is best known to American readers as the author of "Attila." He was a i)rofound scholar, and died in 1847. Henry William Herbert was born in London on the 7th of April, 1807, a year which has been made famous by giving America her Longfellow and her Willis. Un- til the age of twelve. Master Henry was taken charge of by ]n'ivate tutors in his father's house, which, in those days especially, was a general resort for parliamentary wits and distinguished scholars. On entering his teens, Henry was sent to Dr. Hooker's academy at Brighton, on the Sussex coast. In April, 1820, commencing his four ] \ I ,; i lIKNiiV WILLIAM HKRIJKIJT. XIX n tociitli year, he was entered at Eton, where liis hapj)}' powers of analysis, or of synfliesis, astonished all the ]>n»- fossors. lie made sneli remarkable pro^jress tliat in ISii.'i his fatlicr sent him to Cains Colloiie, Cambridge, and in the chiss of 1829-30 he gradnated thence. Wliile at Cambridge the society of the youthful Her- bert was eagerly sought after by more wealthy your.g commoners; and, as he was equally anxious to associate with them, he gradually formed some very expensive habits. In books and in clothing, boating, racing, tandem drives, etc., lie scattered money extravagantly ; l)ut there are always very kind old gentlemen, around colleges especially, who know a young man's pedigree and con- nections as well, if not bettor, than he does himself, and who have a particular regard for lending money to young gentlemen with large expectations themselves or parents able to pay up all forfeits. One of the best things Her- bert did while at Cambridge was to join a troop of Cam- bridgeshire Yeomanry Cavalry, a full squadron of which was occasionally " camped out" on the routes between Cambridge and Huntingdon, Peterborough, Lynn, Nor- wich, and sometimes as far north as Boston in Lincoln- shire, as the different counties might invite each other's members, generally freeholders of the county, but always willing to receive recruits from among the collegians. By the knowledge of equestrian and field movements thus acquired, Herbert was subsequently enabled to give us those fine descriptions of Ilonuxn battles, sieges, and cam- paigns (by the way, the historian Gibbon has made use of a similar advantage in early education among his works), which Herbert's delighted readers find in "The Captains of the Old AVorld," or in "The Roman Repub- lic," and which he intended to have continued. Much of the supposed hauteur of Herbert's manner arose from the fact that his mind was so frequently " pro-occupied " VOL. I. 2 I' XX A FKW MKMOIKS OF — iiH tlie French would siiy — with some otlicr sct'iio, Ui othiT hinds, and anioiii!: otliiT hiiiii'iiiii-vs, so that liis return to present realities, and the use nf vei'iiacular Kn<;lish, re(|nired a mental ettnrt which ini;;ht easily be mistaken tor lack of courtesy. Thei'e nee(l he no doidtt ot' this, for in his writiny's the ma<;netic chord of attraction is never intermitted between him and his readers, or between them and him. Nor does he make any puride of learned lore, either by allusion or quotation, except as they would mi;hts of classic exploration and poetic adaptation. And yet, of all the writers ever llallI(' sc1i«m»1, wliicli at that tiiiii' was ill Mcavcr street, near I'madway. The diifies ot'hisstatiini, and the select coinpany he met witii, wi-re ton ninch like those at his father's house at home. Ilerhert was, like Ilazlitt, "an untamahle h»ver of liherty," and h(; ress, in a sort of anonymous man- ner, hut with no oitjeetioii to the pecmuary i-esults, ^lak- ini; tlio ae title of "author of The Bntthers,'' etc., but he never oti'ered tlie Harpers any more of his ]\rS8. A member of that enterprising firm is said to have been "hit off" in the "Warwick Woodlands." From lS;^>o to ISHt), Herbert was, more or less, con- nected with the "American Monthly JMagazine," some- times writing all the editorial matter, liaving succeeded XXll A KKW MEMOIltS OF Dr. A. D. Patterson, nnd joined Charles F. Hoffman in its editorial management. In 1837, llerhert'e reputation as a writer of historical novels seemed fully confirmed by the appearance of "Cromwell," which was even more favorably received by the American public than "The Brothers." In 1838, Herbert became mixed up in a dispute lead- ing to a proposed duel, which would undoubtedly have taken phice but for a severe snow-storm, which prevented the parties from meeting in Camvda as intended. The second of his antagonist, having subsequently reproacheut to nuirry a Miss Barker, daughter of the then Mayor of Bangor. Herbert found that Scoville had so much set his mind upon hav- ing him as groomsman at the wedding that at last he con- sented to accompany the expectant bridegroom. The inconvenience of leaving business in New York would be compensated by a round trip of a thousand miles, and the pleasure of witnessing a joyful occasion. After arriving at Bangor, there was, for some unac- countable reason, a slight delay. In the mean time, tlie astounding discovery was made that the intended bride was quite willing for the ceremonies of sacrifice at the hy menial altar to proceed, bict it was with Henry William SXIV A KKW MKMOIUS OF Herbert only for lier Imsbaml ; juul thus the ut'oresald J(tsei)h A. IScoville toimd liiiiiselt' in ii jieculiarly perplex- iiiif prcdicuuioiit, Jiiul his luiiul hn^, wo believe, never fully recovered troui this distressing shoek to its original sensibilities. These circunistanees are u sid>jeet of gossip down to the present diiy in Jjungor. This is, undisj)Ut{i- bly, ii free country ; our Pui'itiin brothers in the East have peculiar ideas of European nobility; and t'le sway of fenuile power is not only absolute but unquostioiuvble in American society. The real motives of action in such cases are necessarily of a private nature, and it is not likely that they ever can be proi)erly understood by out- side lookers-on. We have here stated such facts as are known to have occurred, and they go to show that II. W. llei'beri was not tlie only odd character in his day and generation. As "Death loves a shining mark," so does ''the reptile si)irit of calumny," Ilistoi-y teaches that royal marriages, when conducted by ])roxy, sometimes lead to dangerous i)erils from the despotism of love. The anibassador is frerpiently thought moi'e of than the prince who sent him. I>ut Herbert was not the man to play the part of Dandini to any other man's Prince Felix — Cinderella or no Cinderella. Iler- b(;rt's ])rincipal was present. The general consistency of Herbert's spirit-life may be seen in the fact that a happy nuirriage made him more useful and more admii-able in society. Domestic disquiet being a fatal bar to all sid)limitv of attainment, no man — however great he may be in the way of genius or of indus- try— can possibly ])rosj)er uiuler such despotic and obtrusive misery. Ihit, with a hajipy home, all the ordi- nary troubles of life are dei)rived f>f any serious influence, and the man has some chance for shining forth in his true character. So it was with Herbert. In 1840, the year his sou was born, Herbert extended his literary and poet- IIKNUV WILLIAM IIKIIBKUT. XXV ical contributions to tlie press more freely tliaii ever. It was iit tliis Interesting period wlien tlie name of *• Frank Forester" became created from Herbert's Jove-like brain, and the world has consented to receive "FllAXK FOIlKSTKIl" with all the honors, rog;ardless of title or nation, heraldic devices or peerage books, but simply for that love of Natui'i' which nudges'* all maidvind akin." The name of "Frank Forester" soon became famctus by carrvinu- on a very spirited controversy in the "American Turf Regis- ter " with the able articles furnished by "Cypress, Jr." "Our Frank" was joyfully rect'ived among the great fannly ride,"' a beautiful story, in which the general character of Attila the Hun, as ])ortra\ed by Herbi'rt's father in his famous poem of "Attila," is well exemplilii'd by the incidents attending the interruj)iion of the bi'ide's marriage with Aurelius, and the dreadful com- bat between the sturdy barbarians of the Hun and the gallant cham]iions of lionnui virtue. Tiie subject is re- nowned foj- its artistic beauties, ami Herbert's treatment ( ; , I i I I : . ! XXVI A FEW MEMOIRS OF of it is a fine specimen of his donbly-gifted power of description and condensation. Anotlier of the articles sent to Graham in 18il, was "The Marriage of Achilles," which attracted general attention, for it showed the immense wealth of claesic lore in tlie author's mind, and his ability to concentrate and reweave the charming fruits of previous ages of study into the small scope of a magazine article. It astonished some of our oldest and best-read collegians with its abun- dance of liistorical detail, and it delighted the most super- ficial readeis with its easily intellif^ible cror^'eousness of descriptioji, partaking of both the voluptuous and heroic. The article read as if the old spirit of Grecian mytlu)logy had taken up a new abode among the brightness of the American continent, to keep alive our love of tlie beau- tiful, while showing the ancient sword of military warfare crowned with a wreath of orange-bhissoms and myrtle leaves, surrounded by a halo of poetic glory, " lambent and imitative of the lights that stud the empyrean." However, our purpose at present requires us to pass on without stopping to indulge in a consideration of Her- bert's writijigs, except so far as they give some outline of his life and character. Suffice it to say, that public favor induced him to gradually make his choice of subjects more familiar; for, with all his faults, he was true to his great patron — the American peojde. His "Mnrmaduke AVyvil ; or, the Maid's Kevenge," published in 1843, was uncom- monly well received, but he wrote more and more sport- inir matter as he found "Frank Forester" was a more potent name than even that of H. W. Herbert. His con- nection with the "Spirit of the Times," and its then editor, Wm. T. Porter, Avas Herbert's most magnetic link of communication with popular favor, and many a "spicy article " has been concocted among the frequent- ers near the " old Spirit" office, Avhen it was in Barclay 1 1 s IIENKY WILLIAM IIEKBKRT. xxvu street under the American Hotel, on the corner of Broad- way, in the good old days of Col. Cozzens. This kind of influence subsequently brought forth those treatises on sporting niattcis and natural history which have now be- come standard works in our national literature. Mr. and ^hs. Herbert, shortly after marriage removed from the Carlton House, in New York, to the Park House in Newark, N. J. In 1846, Mrs. Herbert died while at the latter place. Their son had been sent to England, where he found great favor with all his father's I'elatives, and his education iuid been already undertaken by them. A proposition was made for the purchase of a house and homestead for the youthful Herbert, which, however, should be inalienable for any other purpose, except it might be as a residence for II. AV. Herbert (held by a deed of trust) until his son became of age. Herbert, hav- ing long liked " the Cedars," a little shooting-box between Newark and Belleville, suggested its adoption, and took up his entire residence there shortly after Mrs. Herbert's death. It is a ronumtic little spot, only an acre of ground^ and the cottage is built in the Mary Tudor style, so situ- ated as to be eml)owered in foliage. Here the mind of " Frank Foi-ester " gave forth " My Shooting Box," "Ballads of tlie American Revolution," "Tlie Field Sports of America," "The Deer Stalkers," "The Quorndon ILnmds," "Fish and Fishing of North America," "Game in its Seasons," "The Young Sports- man's Manual," and, finally, his great work on "The Horse and Horse nuvnship of America." Amo!ig the un- finished works at the time of his death were, "Tricks and Trai'S of Horsedealers," " Hints to Ilorsekeepers," etc. As H. W. Herbert he was equally busy, altliough, perhaps not yet so poj^ularly known, by such woi-ks as "Tiie Roman Traitor, a Romance fouiuled on Cataline's Conspiracy," publislied in 1848. Tliis was followed by XXVlll A FKW MKMOIRS OF i!^ "A jS[cti'iciil Transliitiou of the Pi-omotlicus and Ana- TneiniKni of .Kscliylui?," " Henry VIII. and his Six WiveP," "The Cavaliers of En^i?huul," "The Chevaliers of France," "The Knights of England, France, and Scot- land," "The Captains of the Old AVorld," "Persons and Pictures fntni the Histories of France and Kngland,''' "The Captains of the Roman Ilepnblic," and "The Wager of Battle." Put the greatest effort in this class of writing remains unfinished — a spii'ited translation from the "Iliad " of Homer; there is also a beautifully ro;uan- tic account of "The Marvs of Ilistorv," the MS. being quite complete, as he left it, but of course additional characters might be selected. Besides these acknowledged works, liis contributions to newspapers and magazines are almost countless. In 1850 he gave much time to a i)a])er called "The Sunday Era," and in 18.51 to another called "The Sachem," both published in ^'ew Yoi'k. He also contributed many ar- ticles to what is now known as " Pallou's Pictorial," in Boston. Dr. Patterson's "Anglo-xVmerican," about 1839, had fledged his pen for newspapers. AV^e have more occasion to speak of Herbert as a writer than his private affairs as a man; but, in oi'der to make this sketch as com])lete as ])ossib]e, we must record the fact that he had some trifling dispute with a legal gentleman named Valentine, which resulted in a duel, and took place near Herbert's residence at "the Cedars." After Herbert had been shot near one of his aid\viiii5 liasty, bnt evidently lieartt'elt, remarks were iiiiniediately written by tlie gifted and renowned "Acorn," wliose friendship IIerl)ert had had the lioiior of enjoying. Snrely any very bad man could not have caused so sjtontaneons an expression of reiined and honorable feelings Irom his literuiy compeers and associates, especially tViMu one whose ac(piaintauce had existed for a quarter of u cen- turv : — IIEKRY WILLIAM HERBERT. "The evil that tnon ilo lives iil^er them ; The gddil is ot'l interred willi llieir bDiies." The friends ^f II. W. Herbert, in this city, were apjialled at the announcement of his death, a few days since. The sad intelligence 'I! \XX1V A FKW MKMOIUS OK llM , \ fell Upon the heart of the writer, who has known him for over n quarter of ii century, like a withering mildew, unci, were it not for the (lying injunction of poor Herbert, that his friends cliould ren\»in si- lent, my feeble pen, flirectcd by the best energies of my brain, fjhould reveal the deep sympathies of my heart for one whoso life, although somewhat wayward, was nevertheless marked by many virtues and bright deeds. Henry William Herbert, the brilliant genius and rare scholar, is in his grave ! " After life's fitful fuvor lio sleeps well." For charity's sake, let not the sanctity of that grave be Jisecrated by heartless or unfeeling scribblers, simply to feed or gratify the appetites or morbid tastes of those whose wicked and malignant slanders were mainly instrumental in wrecking so bright a mind ! After frenzying that once noble intellect, and sending its owner unbidden into the presence of his Maker, may we not hope, for humanity's sake, that the portals of the grave may be a barrier against the poisonous tongue of the earth's ;^reatest pestilence — the slamferer ! For the sake of those whose veins t i. ■ kindred blood, and whose hearts and spirits arc now bowed down lo the ditst, forbear, I implore you, and no longer aim your poisoned and malignant arrows of re- venge at the dead, through the already lacerated spirits of the living! But let the f lults and the weaknesses of him, whose earthly career met 60 melancholy and fearful an end, slumber in silence with his ashes in the tomb ! For mercy's sake, let his kind acts and charitable deeds, only, rest in the minds of his fellow men, for many such acts and deeds are known to the writer, which will assuredly be placed to the credit of him who has gone to his account, at the final judgment day. Were it not for violating the last request of this extraordinary man, I wotdd reveal many bright and manly characteristics ; but the observance of a request, made almost with his expiring breath, for- bids, and tells me to drop a curtain over his grave, on which to write in letters of gold — Silence! Peace to the ashes of Henry William Heubeut ! AOORN. Boston, May 22, 1S58. It is of such a man as Herbert we now proceed to speak Among the private letters left to Mr. Anthon, I ,, iiKN'in' wir.r.tAM iiKuiiKitr. XXXV wliom ho np]M)into(l ns lii's oxocutor, was tlio fVillowin;?, addivsscd to ^^l•. I'Atisdii, a ri<;lit trusty and wcU-holovi-tl iK'iirliliDr, in Xcwurk: — ^Iv Dicvn Mii.Ks I'Ansox: The timo 1ms romp, and I call upon you with the last wonl-t of a ilyin,'» coniitrymaii to come and perform your promise. My last friend, do not fail me. Wiien yon receive this I shall he lyinpt dead in the cemetery. I could not he easy in N'ew York, and \ must not he buried in the Pot- ter's Fiehl or hy charity. Have me dresseil in the clothes which T hiivo put in the carpet hnjr, with the little packet 1 have sewn to the shirt upon my heart, and the pin-cushion with " Herbert " pricked upon it, luider my head — a plain oaken coffin, with this inscription only: "Henry AVilliam Herbert — aj^ed ol." Let me Ije buried in your lot ; send the coffin down by the steamer ; no fimeral and no pomp. I send a note to Mr. Shackleford; he will |ierforn\ the .service. I enclo.se a draft for ten pounds sterlin<» on my sister, which will paj- all expenses; I have written to her. Come the moment you re- ceive this, or you will be too late, and they will thrust me into some hole away from humanity. She has refused all reconciliation absolutely and forever, but she is not to blame, and it is my last request that no friend of mine will blame her or defend me. except to say what I solemn- ly swear with my dying breath, that I did not marry her for money — that I did not know when I married her, and do not know noir^ whether she has any money or how much — that I never had a word or dispute with her about money, and never said one unkind word until that Monday, when I threatened my life if she would not tell me who had accused me to her falsely. God forgive and God bless her ! I forgive all men who have wronged me, and ask forgiveness of all whom I have wronged. Every shilling T owe in America will be paid from the lease of the house, and the books I leave behind me, ready to be published. Give my best parting love to all my friends, think of mo sometimes as a most miserable man, yet your true friend. IIenry Wm. Hkrbkrt, Stevens Home. l\\ Maj 15, 1858. VOL. I. XXXVI A rr.w Mi:M(nKs ok I T wish to Imvc ii vi-rv sniivll, voiy plain liendstoiic, of liiltic FuII«, or Huilevillo hUiiic, witli lliis insciiption : lIKNltY WII-I.IAM IIKKBKIIT, of ENOLAND, Agt'd 5 1 years. Infi Ikiaxim im. Will yon take care of Vixen? She has been my only comfort, ^lie has never left me for one moment. I am sure she knows I am wretched. Ood bless you anil your wife ! Hero wo may perceive liow hnively the fine 8|)irit of ''Fniiik Forester" coiitiniii's to shine out, even from tlio sluittertd niiiid of II. W. Ilei'bei't. Ho cnmiot hvnv the tlioii^Iit of I)eiiiility) wiTo taitliriiUy obeyed. Tlio corpse was taken to "the Ceihirs," and hero thi' picture of (hsohitioii, caused hy tlio sudden sioppiigo of all " Frank Foiester's " little plans of comfort and use- fulness, seemed sad indeed. Hero it was that ho had hoped to entwine the jessamine of amiahility and the lin- den of conjujral ail'ectiou aiiionj^ the cedars of j,^lory which tower to the skies. But now, under a clouded aherration of his usual life-hearty intellect, our own well-heloved "Frank Forester " had thrown hiiuseif into the arms of ]Jeath, as if irresistihly impelled hy the chastening rod of a sorrow which was moi-e than ho ct>uld endure: — ii. which his act "Dear, henuto >ms Detith! thou jewel of the just, Sliiuinjf nowhere hut in the dark I AVh.'it mysteries do lie heyoud tiiy dust, Could man out-louk the mark ! " As the deceased gentleman was himself the son of a minister in the Kpiscopal communion, auvl well knew that tlio rnhrics of the " I'ook of Common Prayer" forhid any 1 , 1 '1 J i! \\ ^i XXXVIU A FEW MEMOIRS OF minister under that discipline to perform funeral services at the grave of persons who may liave committed suicide, the proceedings on the present occasion were somewhat novel. Eev. Mr. Shackleford, the clergyman officiating at the marriage of Herbert with his last wife, was pres- ent; and, after the company had taken a last look at the corpse, the reverend gentleman alluded to the above cir- cumstances, and regretted that his obligations of duty forbade him to appear in any other capacity than as a friend of the deceased, whose faults (he felt sure) were all on the surface of his character, hut whose virtues were more numerous than could he generally known. All true friends of the dear, departed Herbert, would therefore follow the remains slowly and silently to the grave, and see them slowly and silently interred, with only those expressions which might be suggested or occur from a mute sorrow. Expressing a hope that the God above, who alone can judge of sincerity of heart, would have mercy upon the soul of the deceased, and of all those now present, the reverend gentleman concluded his remarks, and a silent sorrow pervaded the entire assemblage. The procession passed through the gate by which the grounds of Mount Pleasant Cemetery, adjoining "the Ce- dars," are entered. It was at this spot where Herbert and his wife shared that kiss which became a parting kiss, and where, according to the letter left for Mr. I' Anson, Herbert expected to die. Some green twigs from the neighboring trees were sadly but hopefully thrown upon the coffin, and the assemblage departed. " Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o'ercast ; No more with love's former devotion we sue : He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blact; The shroud of affection is love's last adieu I" HENKV WILLIAM mCRlJp:UT. XXXIX Probably no man ever lived who was more likely to realize tlie poetical measure of misery indicated by such a case, as we find it expressed in Anacreontic lyrics, and familiarized in Byronian lines than Herbert : — " Oh I mark you yon piiir : in the sunshine of youth Love twined round tlieir childhood liis flowers as they grew ; Tliey flourish awhile in the season of truth, Till chill'd by the winter of love's last adieu 1" "In vain with endearments we soothe the sad heart, In vain do we vow for an age to be true ; The chance of an hour may command us to part, Or death disunite us in love's last adieu ! " i Tlie circumstances attondiuij Herbert's second mar- riage were much more romantic than those of the first, but we prefer to leave these matters for the developments of time and legal investigation. "We feel free to say, however, that Herbert has been " moi'e sinned against than sinning." As for Iiis striking a woman, or caring about her money, that might have been possible — when sky-larks run a quarter-race or eagles play at skittles. Notwithstanding Herbert's own estimation of the feel- ings entertained towards him in Newark, and around the neighborhood of liis residence, there need be no doubt (and it is a matter of pride to observe the fact now) that he was mistaken on tliat matter, so far as regards the respectable portion of tlie population. It was a ]iart ot the great error wliich his mind labored under. The news of his death was received with expressions of general ! .1 ■'! ) Xl A FEW MEMOIRS OF regret, as well as caiisiii"; the grief of those associates who might well say, in old Tloinaii style, — " Friends, I owe more tears To this dead man tlian thou slialt See nie pay." II |i i i \ t Mr. Thns. T. Kinney, the talented editor of the "New- ark Daily Advertiser," seems to have been a constant and particnlar friend of the lamented IIerl)ert. The most authentic statements of Herbert's last troubles may be found in the columns of that admirable journal, and Mr. Kinney now has in his possession the little black-and-tan terrier. Vixen, poor "Frank Forester's" true friend, who remained faithful to the last, wiiming from him the title of his " only comfort." Many persons connected with the New Yoi'k book-trade reside in that part of New Jersey, and were, more or less, acquainted with Herbert, but we know of no one who has not acknowledged a pang of grief OTi learning the untimely end of " Fraidc Forester," the gay and rollicking preceptor of Young America in the " j^ntlo science of woodcraft," that science which is always ancient and ever new to youthful hearts and em- ulative spirits. The omission of certain ceremonies at the grave of poor Herbert may furnish some satisfaction to the vul- tures of vituperation. Herbert well knew this. His words to Rev. Mr. Shackleford were, "Do the best you can for me." But, that Herbert's friends were numerous and enthusiastic in the place of his residence, may be in- ferred from the fact that when Rev. Henry B. Sherman, Rector of Christ Church, Belleville, N. J., offered to second any judicious compromise which might be sug- gested to save Herbert's body from being con-;igned to the grave without some token of Christian burial, the reverend gentleman's kindness met with a prompt response IllCXliV WILLIAM IIICKBERT. XH as a kindness (for lils action was courteously dispensed witli), by a lartre number of the most influential citizens of Newark and vicinity, as soon as they understood the circumstances of the case. A testimonial to Air. Sher- man was subscribed for, and wo append the document as a suflicient refutation of the absurd slander that Herbert lacked friends in the jdace where he was best known. The signers are all fair "representative men," well rpiali- lied to speak fur Newark : — The subscribers, desirous of showing tlieir regard for the Rev. Henry B. Sbernitm, of Belleville, and es|)eeially their adniinitiou of his conduct at the funeral of the late Henry W. Herbert, in his wil- lingness to perform some Christian ceremony over the grave of tiie deceased, cheerfully contribute to the amount necessary to procure a suitable testimonial. John Morrison, Wni. T. Mercer, 1 H. Dawes, F. E. Berier, E. A. Carman, Geo. B. llalsted, Alex. X. Dougherty, M. D., F. W. Rieord, Thos. B. Peddie, Tiios. T. Kinney, A. Biirelow, J. P. Pennington, Lewis C. Grover, J. D. Orton, Cornelius W. Tolles, J. Callaway, G. Grant, k. D., Bethuel L. Dodd, M. D., Silas Merchant, Wm. S. Faitoute, I. M. Andruss, Abram Coles, M. D., James Ross, R. B. llathorn, Cortlandt Parker, O. H. Halsted, Jr., H. B. Miller, A. Schalk, H. Schalk, C. T. Zeiglcr, A. M. W. Ball, T. Seaman, Morris R. Hamilton, N. N. Halsted, J. A. Pennington, Richmond Ward, A. Jackson Drake, U. S. N., J. Soutliard. A beautifully bound copy of Herbert's " Ilorso and Horsemanship of America," his most elaborated and com- 1 ' : ' *'i ■ 1 i Mii A FEW MK.MOIKS OF plete work, one of tlie most splendid books produced by tlic arts of printing, engraving, and binding, — acknowl- edged to be tlie best woi'lc of the kind in the world, and the most successful publication of its class by sub- scription,— was presented to Mr. Sherman as the most apjiropriate and acceptable gift they could select, and the presentation was accompanied by a spirited and suitable letter from Mr. F. W. liicord, cliairnum of the committee having the matter in charge. The Eev. Henry B. Sher- man's letter of acknowledgment does him great honor; and the v.hole proceedings show that both national feel- ing and Christian sentiment were warmly enlisted on be- half of the unfortunate deceased, notwithstanding his many eccentricities. Let it not be said on either side of the Atlantic, for it is not tnie, that Americans ever failed to reward the talents of " Frank Forestei'." What was Herbert is now " Frank Forester," for ever, in American literature. The latter was not exactly " the Persian rose " but " the flower that grew beside it," and now we can hardly tell which most attracts the admira- tion of the world. There is a grand moral to be drawn from Herbert's untimely tate. It teaches us that if even he, out among the fields with his dog and gun, or cantering along the I'oad with a free-breathing courser, or tickling the trout out of their native streams, even he — the all-conquering " Frank Forester " — must succumb to consuming cares and hopeless passions, how requisite it is for all of us to be on our guard against falling into a similar abnormal state, by patronizing a due sluire of field sports, or at least some stated relaxations from business by the aid of travel and agreeable society. To professiomil and literary men, especially, Herbert's case is full of warning, and their matrimonial partners would do well to learn that society ha; "ries and the Chenail Ecartfe in Canada West, shooting a little when oc- casion oflered, and making many enquiries concerning the va- rieties of game, and the habits of those to be found in the prov- ince. At that time, 1 enjoyed some extremely good Snipe shooting, close to the village of Niagara, at the embouchure of the river into Lake Ontario ; and, in fact, 1 saw more birds, and those tamer, than in any other place where 1 have ever shot them. I had no dog with me, and was completely ignorant of the country ; but in such multitudes were the Snipe feeding in every fallow-field and maize stubble — it was in the spring, immediately on the breaking of the frost — that I made a very large bag, in the course of a very few hours. At that period, the Woodcock was just becoming known on the frontier ; and a few birds were killed in the season ; they were, however, still extremely rare, and had been known, comparatively speaking, but a short time. Quail were utterly unknown, both in the Province and on the American side of the river. 1 had not journeyed many milef., ere 1 had outstrip|;ed the Woodcock ; and I could gain no tidings of his existence beyond t'.e Ouse, or Grand River of the Mohawks. At this moment, jjrobably, the best Woodcock shooting on the continent is to be obtained in the islands situate at the western end of Lake Krie, in the Detroit River, and in Lake St. Clair. Quail are also I ecoming exceedingly plentiful throughout that region. In the same manner, in the Eastern States, until m itl.in the last six years, the Woodcock has been unknown on ll e Penob- scot River, although abundant in the vicinity of Portland and Casco Bay, and in the older settlements on tl e Kennel vv. What renders it more evident, in the latter ca.'-c, that it is ll e absence of civilization and not the severity of the cliuiatc, which . . I INTnODUCTOUV OUSERVATION'S. r lias so long deterred this bird of passage from visiting the east- ern parts of Maine, is the fact that, in tiie British Provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, much farther to the north- ward and eastward, and in the old cultivated French country below and around Quebec, the Woodcock has long been an object of pursuit by the sportsman, and of attainment by the gourmet. It may, therefore, be assumed at once, that the spread of agri- culture and civilization, in themselves, has no injurious operation, but rather the reverse, on any kind of winged game; and that, in some instances, the progress of one is simultaneous with the increased nuinbers of the other. Even with game of the largest kind, as Deer, Bear, Hares, and the like, it is not the circumscription of their limits by ploughed fields, but the ruthless persecution to which tbey are subjected, which is gradually extinguishing them, where, w ithin ten or fifteen years, they aboundeil. In the counties of Hampshire and Berkshire, in Msissachusetts, of Dutchess, Pu'.nam, Kockland and Oiange in New York, and of Sussex, in New Jersey, there is an extent of forest land, wilder and more inaccessible, and in every way more suited to harbor herds of Deer, and teii times grea'.er, than all the Deer forests in the H ghbinds of Scotland ; in the former, you have perhaps rather a grea'e.' chance (?f meeting an olepbant, thanks to tlie abundance of me:i:iger'e-, tlwiii a hart or bind — in the latter, the Ked Deer are more numerous now than tl.ey were two centuries ago. Hence it is ev denl, that tiiere is no natural reason whatever, much less a ne essary or inevitable one, for the rapid decrease and approacbing exlinciion of all kinds of game, whether large or small, through.out tl e United States of America. Nor is it to be attributed to any other cause than the reckless and ignorant, if not wanton, destruction tn tle>c animals l)y the rural population. The destruction of tl o Pinnateil dr()u.''e, which is total jOll<] Island, ik-1 an d all but iDtal in i\cw .lers ey anu tl le I'enns on yi- vania oak-barrens, is a.scril.al.le to the brutal and wholly wanton havoc committiid amoni:; il cm by ti.e charcoal-liurners, who fru' I m ■■311 I II (11 i III '■■i if i ! ) U 18 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. quent those wooded districts ; and who, not content with destroy- ing the parent birds, at all seasons, even while hatching and ho- vering their broods, shooting the half-fledged cheepers in whole hatchings at a shot, and trapping them in deep snows — with a degree of wantonness equally barbarous and unmeaning, steal or break all the eggs which they can find. To this add the spring burnings of the forest land, and you have cause enough to account for the extermination of the Pinnated Grouse, or Heath-Hen ; who is not now to be shot in such num- bers as to render it worth the while to hunt for him nearer than Michigan or Illinois. I should, perhaps, here state as a farther proof of the correct- ness of my assertion, thjvt, on the little island of Martha's Vine- yard, off the coast of Massachusetts, where the Heath-Cock, once abundant, had nearly become extinct, the species was preserved from annihilation by the very praiseworthy means, equally de- termined and energetical, adopted by the citizens in general to prevent its extermination. This fine bird is again plentiful in that, its last locality, on the Atlantic coast ; and it is like to remain so, as the people take an honorable pride in preserving it, and neither kill it themselves, nor allow visitors to do so, except in the proper seasons, and under restrictions as to numbers. For a space, I believe, of five years the prohibition to kill was absolute ; and the fine so heavy, and so rigorously enforced — backed as it was by public opinion — that the desired end was gained. The period, if I am not mistaken, for which the Grouse bar- rens were closed has expired, and, under some limitations, of the the nature of which I am not exactly aware, they may be visited by sportsmen henceforth. The destruction of the smaller and more abundant species is to be attributed to different reasons — but the operation of these is more rapid and more fatal than those which have led to the ex- tinction of the races we have mentioned. The first of these causes is the very singular, if not incompre- hensible, characteristic of the people of the United States, to dis- I h .3 INTRODUCTORV OBSERVATIONS. 19 regard and violate all laws, even laws of their own making — the second, the apathy of the rural population with respect to game, and the error into which they have fallen of regarding all game- laws as passed to their detriment, and for the pleasure of the dwel- lers in cities — the third is, the dishonest gluttony of all classes in the cities, with the exception of a few sportsmen — and the last, horresco referens, the selfishness and want of union • among themselves of genuine sportsmen. With regard to the first of the reasons laid down here, it may be taken as a matter of fact that no man, boy or fool, in the coun- try, abstains from killing game, in or out of season, for fear of the law ; and that no farmer or landholder will ever give information against the violation of this law, though so far is he from being non-litigious, that one of the principal pleasures of his life is the sueing his neighbors for the smallest possible sums. The ex- ceeding fondness of the population in general for recourse to civil, and their equally evident disregard of criminal, law, is one of the phenomena of the country, and the age in which we live. Secondly ; the apathy of the farmer arises naturally enough from this, that all he has heard of game-laws in foreign lands is in connection with feudal rights, individual privileges, and nomi- nal distinctions, which are certainly everywhere more Oi less vexatious, and in some places really injurious to classes — al- though far less so than Americans are led to believe by the demagogue orators and editors from whom they obtain their in- formation on this topic, as on most others of the internal eco- nomy of foreign countries. It is needless to state that the game-laws of the United States have no such bearing whatsoever ; and are intended solely to pro- tect the animals in question, during the periods of nidification, incubation, and providing for the youthful broods. Remarkably enough, it has so happened in this country, ow- mg to the non-residence of wealthy and otiose men in the rural districts of the Northern States, that until very recently ail ap- plication for and amendments of game-laws have emanated from the dwellers in cities; and, for this obvious reason, that the coun- r iii I 20 FRANK FOllESTEU'S FIELD SPORTS. try farmers, as a body, have neither the time, the inclination, nor the opportunities for making tiiemselves acquainted with the names, habits, or manners of game-animals ; and consequently could not, if they would, have framed adequate laws for their protection. I believe that if they could now be brought as a body to understand that the provisions of these laws are not arbitrary, and intended to suit the wishes of classes, they might be in- duced to lend their hand to the good work of game-preservation. A very few years since, the sportsmen proper — those 1 mean who shot for exercise, pleasure, and healthful excitement — and the poachers who shot for the markets, both coming from the cities, were the only enemies of the Quail and Woodcock. They were at that time entirely disregarded by the farmers, who had not the art to kill them on the wing, who did not care for theni as delicacies, oi articles of food, and M-ho had no markets to supply with what they considered useless birds. So great was the extent of this disregard, that I have repeatedly, on firing a great number of shots in small pieces of woodland, been questioned by the owners what on earth I found to shoot at ; and, on showing some twenty or thirty Woodcock, have been met by a remark that the speaker had lived on that farm all his life, and had not seen a dozen such birds in his life-time — and the name of the bird was unknown to them. At this period, which was the golden age for the sportsman, tra- velling was, comparatively speaking, exj)ensive ; it was often necessary, in visiting out-of-the-way places, where the best sport was to be had, to hire private conveyances ; and the consequence was that the city poacher was in a great measure precluded from following his barbarous and dishonest trade. Add to this, that the country people were averse to the market-shooter, when they discovered his object, and cast obstacles in his way. All this is now changed — the rail-roads by which the country is everywhere intersected, enable the city pot-hunter to move about with his dogs, and to transmit the subject of his butchery to the market easily, cheaply, speedily. IS'or is this all — the country now bids fair to monopolize the trade of pot-hunting. ^ I INTKODUCTORY OBSKUVATIONS. 21 The young men and boys, now-a-days, all shoot on tlie wing ; many of them shoot extremely well ; and knowing the country, and being at it all the time, the devastation they make is enor- mous. Their game is easily disposed of by the aid of the conductors, or other employes on tlie rail-roaiis, who share the spoils with the killers. The father, finding that the idle lad, who formerly did an hour or two of work, and bird-nested or played truant cpiite unprofitably all the rest of the day, now readily earns his three or four shillings a day by loafing about the woods with a gun in his hand and a cur at his heels, encourages him in this thoughtless course, and looks upon him as a source both of honor and profit to the family. In the meantime, knowing nothing, and caring less than noth- ing, about the habits or seasons of the birds in question, he judges naturally enough that, whenever there is a demand for the birds or beasts in the New York markets, it is all right to kill and sell them. And thanks to the selfish gormandizing of the wealthier classes of that city, there is a demand always ; and the unhappy birds are hunted and destroyed, year in and year out, by the very per- sons whose interest it is to protect them, if it be only for the sel- fish object of making the most money of their killing. Even now, while I write tliese lines — February, 1S48 — owing to the mildness of the winter, which has allured them earlier than usual from their hybcrnacula in the swamps of the sunny South, the Woodcock are here among us, preparing their nests already ere the snow isolfthe ground. Each pair of these birds, if unmolested now, will raise eight young — perhaps twelve — dur- ing the season. The bird, moreover, is in no condition at this time of year — his plumage is full of a species of louse, his flesh is unsavory, he is thin and worthless — yet the ostentation, rather than the epicureanism of the rich New Yorker demands Wood- cock ; therefore, despite law, common sense, and common hu- manity, the bird is butchered at all times — even now. Within ten years to come, if some means widely different from any now i! t I I 11 i F" 22 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. li II |l '! adopted be not taken to save this bird, it -will be extinct every- where within a hundred miles of the Atlantic seaboard — and in- land, everywhere within a hundred miles of any city large enough to aflbrd a market. Within fifty years from the day on Avhich I now write, I am satisfied that the Woodcock will be as rare in the eastern and midland states, as the Wild Turkey and the Heath-Hen are at present. The Quail will endure a little longer, and the Ruffed Grouse the longest of all — but the beginning of the twentieth century will see the wide woodlands, the dense swamps, and the moun- tain sides, depopulated and silent. I begin to despair — to feel that there is no hope for those who would avert the evil day, when game shall be extinct, and the last manly exercise out of date in the United States of North America. The foregoing remarks contain, in brief, the reasons which have induced me to prepare and offer to the public the present work, on " the Field Sports of the United States, and the British Provinces of North America" — a work, the intention and char- acter of which, I shall take this opportunity of stating, are en- tirely different from those of any book heretofore published in this country. " In all European countries," I remarked, in connexion with the observations quoted above, " writers on all branches of sport- ing have long abounded ; many of them of high birth, many of them distinguished in the world of science and of letters, and some even of the gentler sex. The greatest chemist of his day. Sir Humphry Davy, was not ashamed to record his piscatory expe- riences in ' Salmonia,' a work second only in freshness and at- traction to its prototype, by old Isaak Walton. That fair and gentle dame, Juliana Berners, deemed it not an unfeminine task to indite what, to the present day, is the text-book of falconry ; and hapless beautiful Jane Grey thought she had given the ex- fremest praise to Plato's eloquence, when she preferred it to the music of the hound and horn in the good greenwood. Till the last few years, however, America has found no son to record the feats of her bold and skilful hunters, to build theories on the results of INTRODUtTOBY OBSERVATIONS. 23 their experience, or to plead the cause of her persecuted and almost extermii' ed game. " Within the lust few years, indeed, much has been done. A whole host of sporting writers have sprung up in all quarters of the land, having their rendezvous and rallying point in the columns of the New York Spirit of the Times. " Still, most of these writers have aspired rather to enter- tain than to instruct ; rather to depict scenes and incidents to the life, than to draw from those scenes a moral and a theory." Even the beautiful edition of that admirable English work, " Hawker on Shooting" — prepared for the American reader by my excellent friend, William T. Porter, known throughout the length and breadth of the continent as a thorough and accom- plished sportsman — does not descend to those minute details of the zoological distinctions, nomenclature, and habits of our vari- ous species of game, which I propose to give to my readers ; nor — though abounding with graphic accounts and highly colored anecdotes relating to every species of shooting or hunting, does it present any views or suggest any means for the preservation of game, or for the acquisition of skill in woodcraft and gunnery in this country — both being very different on this from what they are on the other side of the Atlantic. This consideration — connected with another, namely, that for the last two years hardly a week has passed without my re- ceiving a letter from some person addicted to field sports, in all, even the remotest, parts of the country, requesting me to suggest some plan for the prevention of, what all see to be imminent, the total annihilation of game within our borders — has led me to believe that the time has arrived, when a work of this character is called for by the country in general, and is likely to be as well received as the deficiencies of its author will permit. And now, after these brief introductory observations, I shall state what is my plan for the arrangement of this work, and thereafter plunge at once in Medias Res. In the first place, I propose briefly to ascertain what are the game of the United States and Provinces of America — a point 24 FliANK rOIlESTEK S FIELD SP0HT8. which is, by the way, of no small consequence ; as it is not by any means generally understood, at least by the rural portion of our eastern and midland sportsmen ; and as, until it is understood and the understanding aclcd upon, sportsmanship never can be placed on a scientific footing. This done, I shall classify it under its three great distinct divi- sions, of Upland or Inland, Coast or Sea, and Western Siiooting. Under each head, I shall give full descriptions, selected from the best authorities in natural history and ornithology, of the genera, the colors, habits, breeding seasons, and haunts of every species of game — thereafter, I shall treat of the proper scientific modes of killing and preserving them ; and, last not least, I shall insist on the proper nomenclature, urging its adoption with all my poor powers, and endeavoring to abolish the vulgar, ignorant, slipshod habit, which prevails to such a terrible extent, of using absurd provincial misnomers for almost every animal of the chase. Of the science of gunnery, the training and pathology of dogs, the acquisition of the art of shooting flying, and other kindred topics, so much has been stated at length by Hawker, Youatt, Blaine, and other great English authorities, that it is not neces- sary that I should be very dilfuse in my observations. As, how- ever, no work on field sports can be perfect, or approach to perfection, unless it include these vital subjects, I shall of course not pass them over in silence, though I shall dilate only on such parts of them as appear to be most desirable, either for want of sufficient present publicity, or from peculiar applicability to the circumstances of field sports in America. Hunting, or coursing, ;)ro/)er, does not exist on this continent; the great topics, therefore, of condition, training, summering, and riding hunters to hounds, are, of course, out of the question ; as well as the kindred subjects of the management of greyhounds, keni.el-treatment and hunting of hounds, and lastly, all connected with the noble science of falconry, once termed " the Mystery of Rivers." I have, indeed, often wondered that both falconry and cours- ing have not been introduced on the boundless prairies of the INrnODUCTORY OUSEHVATIONS. 23 West, which, for the perfection of the first named sport, are the grounds pur excellence of the whole world — the decline of fal- conry on the continent of Europe, and in England, being caused by the multiplicity of enclosures, which renders it impossible to pursue a chase, blindfold as it were, the eyes being fixed constantly on the manceuvrcs of the hawk to pounce, and of the quarry to evade his stoop, in the mid-air. Again, Deer-coursing might be practised with undoubted suc- cess on the prairies ; the best proof of which is in the fact, that it has been tried by one gentleman at least, who has imported the rough Scottish deer greyhound for the purpose, in the ex- treme VVe'jt ; and has been found by him to surpass all his ex- pectations, both for the excitement of the chase and the great sport attained. Deer, of the largest size and finest head, were run into, after a pursuit of three miles or more, in view, and pulled down single-handed — nay, even the enormous Elk was brought to bay unerringly, by these staunch, fleet and noble hounds. With regard to these sports, however, I have said my say , and only expressing my wonder that they should not be adopted, and my advice to all genuine Western sportsmen — I do not mean game-butchers — to adopt them with all due speed — I pass on to what more claims attention. Fishing is, perhaps, scarcely a field sport ; it is nevertheless so decidedly a branch of sportsmanship — of course I mean fly- fishing, or trolling with the live or dead minnow ; any other mode I can regard only as I would knocking a hare on the head in her form, or shooting a bevy of Quail running, or in a huddle — that I may not leave it unnoticed, lest I should be supposed to rob it and its votaries of the honor due to the gentle science. I know not, whether, before entering on my subject, I owe any apology to my readers for that I, not native or to the manor born, should aspire to treat of a subject so purely indigenous as the field sports of America Should it be deemed presumptuous in me to attempt it, I must only point, as my excuse, to seven- teen years of apprenticeship honestly devoted to acquiring the lit- 26 KHANK KOKESTEK's FIELD HPUKTS tie I do know of Americtin field sports — und so infinitesimal ui that little, that 1 am almost compelled to own, with the sage of old, " all that I do know is, that I know nothing" — and to a constant and long-maintained habit of intercourse and familiar correspondence with better, though not more thoroughgoing, sportsmen than myself, in every part of the United States, and of the Provinces. Upon any yeneral defence of field sports I do not here think it worth the while to enter. All men whose opinions are worth one moment of attention, have long ago decided that they are the best, the manliest, and the most desirable, in every respect, of national amusements, tending to prevent the demoralization of luxury, and over civilization, the growth of efl'eminacy and sloth, and to the maintenance of a little manhood in an age, the leading characteristics of ■which are fanaticism, cant, and hypo- crisy, added to a total and general decay of all that is manly or independent either in the physical or moral characters, alike of individuals or nations. To those who think field sports cruel, immoral, wicked, and brutalizing, I have only to make my lowest bow ; and to en- treat that they will give me and my book, as 1 shall assuredly give them and their opinions, the widest possible berth ; assuring them that, without the slightest respect for their opinions, 1 have no idea of intruding upon their premises, nor any desire to convert them from their comfortable and self-hugging creed. In all ages and in all countries, genuine field sports — from which I, of course, exclude the really cruel and brutalizing amusements of bear-baiting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, and other similar pursuits, which are for the most part followed only by the vicious and Avorthless population of large cities — have been approved of and encouraged by the wisest men, by statesmen and philosophers and philanthropists, not merely as legitimate pursuits whereon to expend and exercise the buoyant animal spirits, and ardent animal propensities of youth — which must have an outlet one way or another — but as the best mode of preserving the combined advantages of the mens INTUODUinORY OIlSEItVA TIONS. 27 tana in corpore saiio — of keeping up nmohoocl, and of maintain- ing the physical energies and ca|iacii(cs of the human race at their highest standard. It is an authentic and undeniahle fact that the aristocracy and gentry of the British Islands are superior, in physical heauty and power, in robustness, agility, and the capacity of enduring fatigue, to any other class of nDlnlity in the world. They are, in fact, the only nohllilif in existence, which have l)ecn enabled to resist the deteriorating inlluences of wealth, luxury, and hreeding-in-and-in, which have corrupted and eff'enunated the nobility of all other lands ; they are the only nobilily, in exist- ence, which not only eijuals, but exceeds, in physical stature and strength the peasantry and laborious classes of their own country. And to nothing is this, or can it he, ascribed, but to their habit of residence on their rural estates, and their addiction to manly and laborious field sports. To the like cause, may be, in its degree, attributed the superiority, in vigor and robust- ness, despite of ill fare and hardship, of the British peasant and artisan to his equal in society, in France, Spain, Italy, and on the European continent in general. This being, as it must be admitted, true of Great Britain, there are two re.isons, worth the consideration of the statesman and the philanthropist, why the encouragement of a love for field sports is even more desirable and necessary in the United States than in thiit country. The first is this — that the wealthy classes of the northern states eulhelif, and of all the states, in a gre.it degree, dwelling exclusively in large cities, and not residing at all on rural es- tates, or acquiring rural tastes and habits, are infinitely more liable to become effeminated and cffi'le than the gentry, not of Britain only, but of France and Germany. And, in fact, the sol disdiile aristocracy, the dandies of our cities, are now softer and more cocknified, as a rule, than the gentry of the European monarchies. The second consideration is this — that, standing armies beina out of the question in this republic, the defence of the land an'l '?■ 2S FKANK KOUtHTKU 8 KIKI.D 81'OHTS. f I I I ■ IM its institutions must ever bo intrusted to the people at large ; anil the aduptibility of the people to that defence will ever de- pend on their aptitude to become soldiers at a short notice, and especially on their readiness with the gun. So far as they have been tried hitherto, nothing can be more satisfactory than the results. But, I think, it will appear, on a little consideration, that the probability of those results continu- ing the same for a large term of years, as far as regards the use of the gun, is small indeed and hourly decreasing. During the war of the Revolution, every countryman was a rifleman. Burgoyne surrendered as much to the unerring aim of the undisciplined American militia, as to the skill or courage of the regulars. Even in the last war, the northern and mid- land states could produce their hundreds and thousands of rifle shots ; and on the Canada frontier they did good service. Along the Atlantic sea-board the rifle is now, already, an unknown arm ; and I doubt extremely whether, between the Kennebec, the Delaware, the great lakes, and the ocean, one regiinent could be raised of men practically familiar with the use of this deadly national weapon. According to this rate, the use of the weapon, of course, passing away so soon as its utility passes, the rifle will ere long be as rare in the western, as it now is in the eastern states. The Bison, the Elk, are already rare on this side the Mississippi, if not extinct. The Deer are, in the same ratio, declining, and the Turkey. These gone, the utility and honor of the rifle are extinct also So long as smaller game exist, the shot-gun will still continue, replacing the rifle as it has done to the eastward, to be in use ; and the practice of fire-arms will not be wholly lost. Destroy the small game, too, and the fowlinL^-piece falls into disuse also. I do not myself believe that one century will pass over the United States, before its population, now the readiest on earth with the gun, will have cast it aside altogether ; and before a fjvcbck will be as rare, unless in the hands of trained regulars, Bs tl e rifle is now on the sea-board. INTKonUCTOKV 0I1SKRVATI0.N8. M This certiiinly is a point worthy of consideration, even by those wiu) think themselves fur too greut and piiihiiUhropii-ul to trouble themselves about such trifles as thr; increase cr de- crease of little birds, and the field anris of i'<.Ue non. It is, however, sound philosophy whi.H teaches uv .imt ''great ends come from small bo<;innings." V. ] I I I ' I ■ 1 ■ jU'i N .V FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTfl. THE GAME OF THK UNITED STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES. AME is not every thing which ex- i, ists in the shape of birds or beasts in a state of nature, /er , ■ . .■ '•.•■•:-■ ^ :'i..j,,M ii ,> . • ■ lA!-. ' .'•■. •A ii 'tr r ■,];.. j5 0^:: ill M. I >■■ II -I'-s;.'!. ic. I! •(.i'Ui-'t; ':>'.,.T.i i'._ r. •I M)!"!--;-!!;!!, .■ri\:-i- lb, -.1 :" - 1 ^ .i;a-. ■•'.'■• 1- I ■. ' :1 • •! n'l, , u: '■...!. I In' (;ame of ameuica. 33 sale and butcher-like lashion in which the former are slaughtered, and the total absence of what I should deem sport in gallopping alongside of a great unwieldly terrified mountain of flesh, pouring broadsides into him, until he ftiUs for loss of blood ; and looking to the ferocious and noxious character of the latter. Nevertheless, in the West, i?«/f«/o-hunting is regarded as sport — therefore the Bison — for, be it observed, there is no such animal known to this continent as the Bujfalo — must take its place among the game of North America ; and, in the south and south-west, the bear is hunted sportsmanly and scientifically with packs of highly-trained and highly-bred hounds. I cannot therefore, deny him a place in the list of animals of game or chase. The Antelope again, anil, yet more, the Rocky Mountain Sheep, are so rare, and so little pursued, except by the travellers and trappers of those barren wilds, who kill them — when they can — for their flesh, that they barely come within the sphere of game. There is no mode of hunting or pursuing them practised, except to crawl as near to them as you can, and shoot them if you can ; still they are of species recognised as game elsewhere, which doubtless would afford rare sport, if they were in situations where they could be legitimately hunted ; and perhaps will yet af- ford it, if they be not destroyed by the trappers and backwoods- men, before increasing civilization and refinement brings up a class capable of indulging in the expensive pursuit, and of cher- ishing a fondness for sport, purely for sport's sake. The Moose, the Elk, the Cariboo, and the Common Deer, are distinctly game in every sense of the word ; and are pursued as such whenever they can be found. The black-tailed Deer is of precisely the same order, and will doubtless afford as good sport, whe:i civilization shall have reached his haunts, which are on, and to the westward of, the Rocky Mountains. The two varieties of Hare are likewise emj)hatically game ; and it is with these two families only, and but Avith two or three species of these, that nine-tenths of my readers will ever have to do. i Hi ■Am i ! I 34 FKANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. II n ill- The Mouse and Cariboo may be hunted with more or less success in Maine and Canada, as well as in the Eastern provin- ces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. A few linger yet in the north-eastern angle of New York, and on the northern frontiers of Vermont and New Hampshire. There is, however, little prospect of sport in their pursuit, west of the St. .Johns, or south of the Canada lines. A few Elk are said to exist still in the western districts of Pennsylvania, and also in Kentucky, but to find them in herds, and in fact to have a chance of killing them, the hunter must go westward of the Mississippi. Even the larger species of hare, which becomes white in win- ter, is becoming rare in New York south of the region of Lake Champlain ; and, except among the craggy hills where he can laugh at pursuit, he will soon cease to exist as an animal of chase. So that in fact for the great majority of sportsmen, the number of varieties of four-footed game is reduced to two species — the common Deer, and the common Hare — the small grayish brown fellow, I mean, who is erroneously called Rabbit — for be it ob- served no Rabbit exists on the continent of North America, and no Buffalo ; though I suppose to all eternity, men will persist — even men of education, who ought to know, and do know, better — in calling them by the names applied to them by the illiterate and vulgar. I have no patience with the dependent provincial vulgarism of calling all birds, beasts, plants and fishes, by the name of Euro- pean animals or vegetables, to which they bear some fancied resemblance, when no such things exist on the continent. There is scarcely a wild bird or a wild plant in this country that does not go by some ludicrous misnomer. Thus a Thrush is termed a Robin, a Vulture a Crow, a Grouse a Pheasant or a Par- tridge, a Quail a Partridge — a Rhododrendon, an Azalia, and a Calmia — all three as wide apart from each other, and from the thing they are called, as an ivy bush from an oak tree — laurel ; and so on, of almost everything that runs, flies or grows in the woods or wilds of the United States. fil ; GAME OF AMERICA. 3o a e > e It is to those stupid misnomers, as I shall show herevi/ter, that one-half the confusion and dilficulty arises among sportsmen with regard to the objects of their pursuit. We now come to the winged game ; and here we shall find less dilliculty in deciding what species are properly game; though, with regard to one or two families, much more in ascer- taining the correct denominations of the birds themselves, it being no easy task to assign the individuals known by some bar- barous nickname to any real tribe or order. All the game birds, proper, of this continent, then, belong to three orders ; one of land, and two of — as lliey are called — wa- ter birds ; althougli several species of the latter are found inland and on uplands. All our game, coming under the head of land-birds, proper, are of the order termed by oniithulogists Rasores ; and belong to two families, Paoonidce, and TetraonUla ; or birds following the types of the Peacock, and of the Grouse. Of these again we have three subdivisions — Melcayris, or Turkey ; Ortyx, or Ame- rican Quail ; and Tetrao, or Grouse. Of the second* family Favon'uhB, and first genus Meleagris, the United States possess but one species. The Wild Turkey. Mdeaxjris Gallipavo. Of the third family TetraonidcB, and first genus, Orti/x, Quail, there are no less than six distinct species within the territories now belonging, or about shortly to belong, to the United States ; and I think it well at least to mention their names and places of residence ; as experience teaches us that our population spreads with such vast rapidity, that tracts, which are a wilderness one year, are the next almost thickly settled places ; so that it is by no means impossible, nor even very improbable, that within a few years, more or less, these varieties of Quail, now known only to a few minute and laborious ornithologists, may be as regularly hunted and as scientifically killed as our own domestic bird of the same kin. They are these — * The fust family, Columbidcc, of lliis order, the third of land-birds, are nut •same. I; Mllif = IP IS Mi '.iP FRANK FuliKSTEK S FIELD SI'OKTS. 1. The Common Amkkican Quail, 2. TiiK Califouman Quail, 3. TiiK Plumed Quail, 4. The Welcome Quail, 5. The Paintep Quail, 6. The Douulass Quail, Ortijx Virginiann ; Ortyx Cali/ornicn ; Orlyx I'luini/cni ; Ortyx Neoxena ; Ortyx Picta; Ortyx DuiKjlasii. Of these six species the first alone is yet an object r»' purauH, being Ibund everywliere south of the 43id degree of north lati- tude, from the waters of the Kennebeck to those of the Rio Grande, if not yet fartlier to the south. Tl\e second, third, fourth, and fifth species arc all inhabitants of California, as far north as the valley of the Culundiia — the third, or Plumed Quail, being found farther north among the Rocky Mountains ; and the last, named after its discoverer, being a denizen of Lower Califor- nia only, and never straying so far northward as his congeners. Still of the third family Tetruon'uUe, we have in the United States and Canada, a second genus Tclrcto, Grouse j)roper, of which three distinct and well marked species belong to the States, if not four. Two more, in addition to the above, inhabit the British provinces, and thence northward to the Arctic Ocean ; and four others are peculiar to the Rocky Mountains, and the valley of the Colundiia. Three of these species are tole- rably plentiful^ and two of them 1 have myself shot, the one being the Ruded, and the other the Canada Grouse, respectively vul- garised, as the Partridge, and Spruce Partridge. Within a few years, there is little doubt that the western spe- cies will be exposed for sale in our markets ; and, should Whit- ney's Oregon Railroad go into efl'ect in our days, who knows but we may live to shoot Cocks of the Plains ourselves, and bring them home the next day to dinner at Delmonico's ? The ten American species of Grouse are as follows : 1. The Common Ruffed Grouse, Tetrao Umbelliis ; 2. The Pinnated Guouse — or the Ileath-llen, Tetrao Ctipido, .3. The Canada Grouse — or Spruce Grouse, Tetrao Cana- densis ; 4. The Dusky Guouse. Tiirao Obsciirus : GA.MIi OK A.Mr.lUC.V. 37 5. The Cock op tub Plains, Tttruo [frophasiunus ; Q, The SiiAiu'-TAiLED Gkou.sk, Tetrao Phashinellua ; 7. The Willow Giiousii, 7\tiao Sa/iceti ; 8. The Ameiucan Ptaumioan, Tetrao Mulus ; i). The llocK Ptarmigan, Tetrao Iliipesliis ; aiul 10. Tiie White-tailed Ptarmigan, Tetrau Leucuras. Of these nuble birds, the three species first nainetl are all na- tives of the Eastern States, ami a few of all are yet to be found in them; although the Pinnated Grouse, or lleath-llcn, has been nearly exterminated — as I have before observed — and the Canada or Spruce Grouse, is a shy, forest-haunting bird, rarely met with, and scarcely ever pursued on his own account alone. 1 never saw hut one alive, which I shot on the Penobscot, in Maine. It is, so far as 1 can learn, nowheio plentiful, not even in its north- ern haunts. The seventh species, the Willow Grouse, is stated in the books to exist from Maine to Labrador. 1 never, however, have heard of one being killed, or seen south of the St. Lawrence, above Quebec. If it be found in the States, it is so rare as to be un- worthy of notice, as a species of game. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and tenth varietie-. are indigenous to the Rocky Mountains and the valley of the Columbia, and will probably be, one day, added to the list of American game, and fairly pursued, as such. The eight and ninth inhabit the desolate regions northwartl of Labrador, and Melville Island, and the banks of the Churchill River, where no one is very like to follow them in search of sport. Few of our race have ever seen them living, and they are of course incapable of naturalization to the southward. And here ends the list of our game land-birds, proper — al- though a'! I have stated, two or three varieties of those which are classe 1 by the naturalist as water-birds, and which are in some sort amphibious, fall under the sportsman's head of Upland shooting. It is on account of this peculiarity, that I propose, after enumerating and classifying the game of the country in general, in its proper orders, families, and genera, to distinguish M 1 ' ' i H'i ; n I l! 38 FRANK FOllKSTKIl S FIELD Sl'OriTS. •t farther ticcorditii; to the regions uml situulions in which we find it, and the modes we iidupt in its pursuit. Of game land-birds, proper, tlien, we Imve in all but three OENKKA, the wild Turkey, the Grouse, and the Quail. Here upecialh/ observe and remember that on the whole continent oj Amcr'u'.a there exists neither V he Asxyr nor Partridge; and to call the UuH'ed Grouse, or American Quail, as both are called, by those names, is not an iota less absurd than it would be to call them Game-cocks, and Bantams. Moreover, of all the various sj)ecies both of Grouse and Quail, common to this country, there are but two of the former, the Rutfed and Pinnated, and one of the latter, the common Quail, sulBciently abundant in any part of the United States or Canada, to render it worth the sportsman's while to pursue them. Of water-birds, to proceed with our enumeration, we have a a much larger number coming under the head of game ; all of two famiiie-i, Grallatores, or waders, and JVatatores, or swimmers. The first, third, and fourth families of the first of these orders, the waders, include some of our choicest and most favorite va- rieties of game, both for the excellence of their flesh, and the spurt they allbrd in the field. They are the RaUidiB, the Charadriadee, and the Scolopacida., or the families whereof the Rail, the Plover, and the Wood- cock form the types. Of the second order, the swimmers, the ♦jcond family alone, the Anatida, of which the Duck constitutes the type, comes within the sjjliere of my notice as game; but iive of its six genera — the first, containing the Flamingo, only- being omitted — Goose, Swan, Duck, Sea-duck and Diver, con- tain more species than all the rest of our list together. But to |)i'oceed in order, of the first family Rallid\, son's Snipe — vulg. Englisli Snipe — Scolopax Wil- sonii ; 2. Red-breasted Snipe — vulg. Quail Snijie — Scolopax No- veboracensis ; and 3. The American Woodcock, Scolopax Minor. The other genera, each containing one species, are the Recur oirostra, Avosets ; Jlimantopiis, Stilt ; and Nvniniuis, Curlew ; all of which are well known to our fowlers, though, with the exception of the last, all falsely termed Bay Snipe. Ob- serve,that the Red-breasted Snipe of this family is the only Snipe which frequents the sea-beach or salt marshc ; the other birds so called are Plovers, Sandj)ipers, Tatlers, Turnstones, Avoscts, Phalaropes, and others, whose names are legion ; but not a Snipe among them ; and even the solitary Red-breasted Snipe lies under some suspicion of being rather a connecting link be- tween the Snipes, proper, and the Godwits and Tatlers, than hint • self a pure Snipe. GAME OF AMERICA. 41 We now arrive at the last order, Natatores, swimmers, of whicli, to take cognisance, under the head of its second family, Anatida. The second genus of this family, Anser^ Goose, gives us four species, though two, the third and fourth, are far from common. The first and third are decidedly the best of our sea fowl. 1. The Canada Goose — Wild Goose — Anser Canadensis ; 2. The Barnacle Goose,* Anser Leucopsis ; 3. The Brant Goose — Brant — Anser Bernicla ; 4. The White-fuonted Goose, Anser Alblfrons ; and 0. The Snow Goose, Anser Ilyperboreus. The third genus. Swan, aflbrds two species to North America, but the second only belongs to the Eastern States ; the Trump- eter ranging on'.y through Northern California to the fur coun- tries, from westward of the Ohio. 1. The Trumpeter Swan, Cycmis Buccinator ; and 2. The American Swan, Cycnus Americanus. The fourth genus, Anas, Duck, contains ten species, every one of which, with the exception of the fourth, is well known to all sportsmen ; they are of the finest quality for the table, and pre- ferable to all others, with tlie exception of the Canvass Back, and perhaps the Red Head. They are as follows : 1. The Mallard — vulg. Green Head — Anas Boschas ; 2. The Dusky Duck — vulg. Black Duck — Anas Obscura i 3. The Gadwall, Awts S I repent ; 4. Brewi'.k's Duck, Anis Brewerii ; 5. The Ameuican Widgeon, Awis Americana ; 6. The Pintail Duck, Anas Acuta; 7. The Wood Duck, Summer Duck, Anas Spon.ia ; 8. American Gueen-winged Teal, Anas CaroUnensia. * I liavo my doubts wliPtlipr the Biirnaclo and Brant aro not one and the same bird, though at dirtoreut awes, and in di(I(Toiit statoH of pluinajjo. I'h ■; 1 ill 42 FRANK forester's elELV SPORTS. 9. The Blue-winqed Teal,* Anas Discors, and 10. The Shoveller, Anas Clypeata. The fifth genus, Fuligula, Sea Duck, contains sixteen species, «evera'l of which are well known, and the two first prominent above their race. They are — 1. The Canvass Back Duck, Fuligula Valisneria ; 2. The Red-headed DucKf — vulg. Red-head — Fuligula Marina ; 3. The Scaup Duck, Fuligula Mania ; 4. The Ring-necked Duck, Tufted Duck, Fuligula Rufi- torques ; 5. The Ruddy Duck, Fuligula Rubida ; 6. The Pied Duck, Fuligula Labradora ; 7. The Velvet Duck, Fuligula Fusca ; 8. The Surf Duck, Fuligula Perspiculata ; 9. The American Scoter, Fuligula Americana ; 10. The Eider Duck, Fuligula MoUissima ; 11. The Golden-eye Duck, Fuligula Clangula ; 12. The Bufpel-headed Duck, Fuligula. Albeola ; 13. The Harlequin Duck, Fuligula Histrionica ; 14. The Long-tailed Duck — vulg. South-southerly — Fu- ligula Glacialis ; 15. The King Duck, Fuligula Spectabilis ; and 16. The Western Duck, Fuligula Dispar. The sixth genus, Mergns^ Merganser, contains three well known species, which, commonly shot and of rare beauty, are all nearly worthless as articles of food, so rank and fishy is their flesh. They are, as follows : 1. The Goosandkr — vulg. Sheldrake — Mergus Merganser ; 2. The Ri^.d-bueasted Merganser, Mergus Serrator ; and 3. The Hooded Merganser, Mergus Cuculltitus. • I once doubted whether this Duck was not identicul with the Gurgu- uey of Europe, Jlnas Querquedula, but am now satisfied that they are distinct birds. t This I believe to be tlie same with tlie European Pochard. GAME OP AMERICA 43 iN'ii Here ends what may, I believe, be termed a complete list of all the game, both quadruped and winged, of the United States and the Provinces ; I am not aware of a single omission ; per- haps, indeed, in the latter portion of my catalogue, the fowl es- pecially, I have admitted some genera, which are of so rare occurrence on the coast, as to fall seldom before the gunner's aim ; and which, therefore, can hardly be enumerated as regularly game. I judged it, however, better to err on this, than on the other side of the question ; and the error, if error there be, will be rectified when I come to speak of the various kinds of shooting, and the habits of the animals pursued in each. And here I should, perhaps, apologize to my readers for the apparent but necessary dryness of this part of my work. A catalogue never can be rendered entertaining, and -'■et it is indis- pensable. I think I can promise that future pages will possess more interest to the general reader, although I should strenuously urge it on him, who desires really to make himself a master of the subject, not to skip or slur over the above list of names, but to fix them in his understanding and his memory, as I shall have constant occasion to refer to them hereafter, and as a know- ledge of them is al)S()lutely necessary to the acquisition of skill and science in field sports, in their widest range and most liberal signification. I now come to the subdivisioi.s of my subject, according to the different regions of country to which the dilierent kinds of shooting and hunting, and the difierent .-jpecies of game be- lo..g. These, it appears to me, are threefold, chiefly. First. Upland shooting, which may be termed particularly the field sports cf the Northern and Midland States, consisting in the pursuit of small game — as the Pinnated and Ruffed Grouse, the (iuail, the Woodcock, the Snipe, the Upland Plover, the Hare, the Rail, and one or two species of Duck, which are fout'd only on inland streams and marshes — with the double gun, and the trained pointer, setter, spaniel, or retriever. Second. Fowl shooting, whether from sailing-boats, batteries, or otherwise ; and. under this head, I include the killin'^ of the '.'■.J i;1ii Hi r 1 1 n 1 ; f 1 iMl iiH^' ijii 44 FRANK forester's FIKf-D SPORTS. smaller coast-birds, as Plovers, Sandpipers, and the like, over stools, as they are called, or decoy birds. Third. Western shooting, which may be termed hunting, as it consists of the pursuit of the larger animals, as the Bison, the Elk, the Bear, the Deer, &c., either with the aid of hounds or the speed of horses, but invariably with tiie rifle instead of the shot- gun. Even the pursuit of the Turkey is a species of still hunt- ing, or stalking, rather than of shooting proper ; as I never have heard of this bird lying to, or being killed over, setters, and not often of his being shot on the wing, or with the fowling- piece. I am, of course, not unaware that all the smaller kinds of eastern game abound to the westward, but as the mode of killing them, over setters or pointers, is identical with that used on the seaboard, and is adopted thence, tiiat does not, I think, militate against the justice of my distinction. Lastly. The hunting of the Northern and Eastern States must, I suppose, find a place ; though, in truth, the deer-hunt- ing is so idle and contemptible, now-a-days, in that part of the States, as to he hardly worthy of notice ; while the pursuit of the Moose and Cariboo, although really a grand field sport, and a very noble exercise, requiring pluck, power, wind, sinew, speed, and en,durance, is so rare and difficult of attainment, as to present little attraction to the general run of sjiortsmen. Without farther comment I now proceed to Upland game and Upland shooting, connected ^\ itii which I shall discuss, in their places, the use of the fowling-piece, tlie art of shooting flying, the breeds, breeding, diseases and nifinagcment of dogs, and such other points as shall appear to flow naturally from the subject ; and this I esteem the principal portion and better part of the work before me ; and, as my own especial hobby and chosen sport, I come to d«:il with it, as a work of love and pleasure. I*i UPLAND f>HOOTINC. 45 UPLAND SHOOTING OF THE NORTHERN STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES. PL AND shooting, as it is understood by American sportsmen, is the distinctive term, not, as would appear at first sight, dividing the sport of the hill from that of the plain country, but that of the in- land from that of the coast. It in- cludes, therefore, not only all game of the order, Rusores, the homo of which is in thickets, mountain-sides, stubbles, or maize-fields, but such also of the Grallatores, or warders, as dwell either in inland swampy woods, fresh meadows, or river-side morasses ; and, far- ther yet, such of the Natatores^ swimmers, as are found exclu- sively or principally on brooks, rivers, above tide water, and spring marshes. By upland shooting, in a word, we understand all that is pur- sued with the aid of pointers, setters, or spaniels, and tlie ordin- ary light fowling-piece ; as opposed to that which is followed in boats with heavy ducking guns, and by the aid of decoys, or, as thny arc here termed, stools. Of all f^ports of this country, therefore, upland shooting is that which requires in the sportsman the greatest coiiibinati(m of qual- ities, the greatest skill with the gun, the greatest knowledge of the habits and haunts of his game, the greatest science in the manage- ment of his dogs, and the greatest bodily vigor and endurance. i;!i i ;f ■: I m if it'll Hi I I ; 1 i 48 FRANK FORESTF.lfS FIELD SPOKTS. The upland shooter of America does not, cannot, select his stands, or easy walking ground, for getting shots and killing game, leaving it to his gamekeeper or beaters to hunt his dogs, and Hush his birds in the thicket, so that they shall fly out before his face — still less does he, like the deer shooter, remain listless and silent at his stand, until his guide, a practical woodman, shall find the quarry and hunt it toward him, so that, })er- chance, without walking fifty yards or making the slightest exertion, he gets his point-blank shot, and thinks it a great matter to have killed a big helpless animal, as big as a jackass, and as timid as a calf, literally in the intervals between eating bread and cheese and drinking brown stout, as he sits on a moss- covered log to leeward of the runawiiy. No, through the thickest alder swamp, the deepest and most boggy marsh, among tussocks knee-high, and fallen trees, and in- terlacing vines and cat-briars — along the sharp limestone ledj2;es and through the almost impervious growth of the rhododendron overcanopied by juniper and hemlock — over mile after mile of broad, bare hill-side stubbles — through black morasses, intersected by broad drains — trusting to his own sure foot and even stride, he must toil on after his game, the wildest, fleetest, wariest, and sharpest-Hying of all the fowls of the air, depending on his own knowledge of their seasons and their habits to launch his trusty dogs into their proper haunts, at their proper hours ; on his management of those dogs to flush them fairly within shot, and on his own eye and hand of instinct to give a good account of them, when flushed witliin distance. The perfection to which some men have carried this art is almost incredible — the certainty with which they will find game on the same tract of land, with another party who shall find none — the unerring instinct with which they will read the slightest signs of the weather, and comprehend the smallest indications of the whereabouts of their game — the riadiness with which they will draw conclusions and positive deductions from signs which to others seem light as air — the facility with which thoy understand their dogs, and their dogs them — and lastly, theii: UPLAND SHOOTING. 47 wonderful accuracy, rapidity and deliberate promptitude of aim and execution, backed as these are by the great improvements in the art of gunnery, and by the vast superiority of the percus- sion to the dint lock, are such as would make our ancestors, of a century since, despair amid their admiration — such as consti- tute the first-rate game shot on the wing, decidedly the greatest marksman and artist with the gun, be the other what he may. For, without disparaging the beautiful practice of the ritle or pistol, it may be alhrmed safely that it is merely mechanical, and attainable by every one possessed of a steady hand and a true eye; while I know not what of calculation, of intuition, almost of inspiration, is not needed to constitute a crack shot. As my poor friend, Cypress, Jun., said, in one of his inimitably witty false quotations, purporting to be from Pliny's chapter on IJhick Ducks, " Legcre quidein ct scrihcrc est pmltgogi, sed optime col- lineare est Dci,^'' which he rendered somewhat thus, " A credita- ble scholar can be made by the schoolmaster, but a crack shot is the work of God," the Latinity being equal to the truth of the apopthegm. Now, without pretending that I can give every person a re- ceipt whereby he can becom.^ i^ " crack shot," which no one, I believe, can be, unless he is born to that good eminence, or even presuming that I can make him a good sportsman, I shall pro- ceed to set down such facts with regard to the habits and haunts, the season" and the instincts of game, as I can dcri*/c from the best sources, wiiii such directions for the pursuit and killing of them as many years experience has led me to consider the most likely to attain success. And first of all, we will consider what animals come under the head of upland game, and thence })roceed to their generic distinc- tions and habits, as recorded by our greatest naturalists, after which we shall be led in due season to my own personal experi- ences and observations. Our upland game consists then, as we find it here m the northern and north-eastern parts of North America, of three species of grouse proper — one of them very rare and very rarely vou I. g >Ui m '■ I'ni i ' ! i ' -1 ■ . 1 1 , 1 \ ■ 1 ; , ■ j '■ 1 t I I I. 50 KUANK FOUESTKU'a FIELD SPORTS. curved, tlu- eilges overlapping, the tip dedinate* and rounded Nostrils basal, roundish, concealed by the feathers. Head small, neck rather long, body bulky. Feet of ordinary length, tarsus short-feathered, toes covered above with numerous short scutella,! marginale,;|; and pectinate,§ hind toe extremely short, two lateral equal, middle toe much longer ; claws of ordinary length, strong, arched, rather obtuse, concave beneath. "' Plumage compact, the feathers generally broad and rounded, those of the head and neck narrow, and proportionally shorter, excepting of the crown, which are elongated. Two tufts of lanceolate elongated feathers on the side of the neck, under which is an oblong bare space on either side capable of being in- flated. Lower tibialjl any4 "I '"I ^^^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) :/u ■■; f 1.0 I.I 1.25 ttiiu jns lii y^ "Hi™™ us us H2.0 HE •- u ■lUu fe Fhotograi^c Sciences Corporation 23 WKST MAIN STREIT WEBSTER, N.Y. 145M (716)t72-4S03 52 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. (C i New York, Sept. 19, 1810. ; I S^i.l '"Dear Sir, — It gives me much pleasure to reply to your letter of the 12th inst., asking of me information concerning the Grouse of Long Island. " ' The birds, which are known there emphatically by the name of Grouse, inhabit chiefly the forest range. This distdct of the island may be estimated as being between forty and fifty miles in length, extending from Bethphage, in Queen's County, to the neighborhood of the Court-house, in Suffolk. Its breadth is not more than six or seven. For though the island is bounded by the Sound, separating it from Connecticut on the north and the Atlantic Ocean on the south, there is a margin of several miles on each side in the actual possession of human beings. " ' The regions in which these birds reside lie mostly within the towns of Oysterbay, Huntington, Islip, Smithstown and Brooklyn; though it would be incorrect to say that they were not to be met with sometimes in River Head and Southampton. This territory has been defined by some sportsmen as situated between Hemp- stead Plain on the west and Shinnecock Plain on the east. " ' The more popular name for them is Heath-Hens. By this they are designated in the act of our Legislature for the preser- vation of them and of other game. I well remember the passing of this law. The bill was introduced by Cornelius J. Bogart, Esq., a Member of Assembly from the city of New York. It was in the month of February, 1791, the year when, as a repre- sentative from my native county of Queen's, I sat for the first time in Legislature. " ' The statute declares among other things, that " the person who shall kill any Heath-Hen within the counties of Suffolk or Queen's, between the 1st day of April and the 5th day of Octo- ber, shall for any such offence forfeit and pay the sum of two dollars and a half, to be recovered with costs of suit by any per- son who shall prosecute for the same befoie any Justice of the Peace in either of said counties, the one half to be paid to plain- tiff and the other half to the overseers of the poor ; and if any Heath-Hen so killed shall be found in the possession of any per- UPLAND SHOOTING. 53 son, he shall be deemed guilty of the ofience and suffer the penalty. But it is provided that no defendant shall be convicted unless the action shall be brought within three months after the violation of the law." " ' The country selected by these exquisite birds requires a more particular description. You already understand it to be the midland and interior district of the island. The soil of this island is, generally speaking, a sandy or gravelly loam. In the parts less adapted to tillage, it is more of an unmixed sand. This is so much the case, tbat the shore of the beaches beaten by the ocean affords a material from which glass has been pre- pared. Silicious grains and particles predominate in the region chosen by the Heath-Hens or Grouse ; and here there are no rocks, and very few stones of any kind. This sandy tract ap- pears to be a dereliction of the ocean, but is nevertheless not doomed to total sterility. Many thousand acres have been re- claimed from the wild state and rendered very productive to man ; and within the towns frequented by these birds, tbere are numerous inhabitants, and among them some of our most wealthy farmers. But within the same limits there are also tracts of great extent, where men have no settlements, and others where the population is spare and scanty. These are, however, by no means naked deserts ; they are, on the- contrary, covered with trees, shrubs and smaller plants. The trees are mostly pitch-pine, of inferior size, and white-oaks of a small growth. They are of a quality very fit for burning. Thousands of cords of both sorts of fire-wood are annually exported from these barrens. Vast quantities are occasionally destroyed by the fires which, through carelessness or accident, spread far and wide through the woods. The city of New York will probably for ages derive fuel from these grounds. The land, after being well cleared, yields to the cultivator poor crops. Unless, therefore, he can help it by manure, the best disposition is to let it grow up to forest again. " ' Experience has proved that in a term of forty or fifty year.**, the new growth of timber will be fit for the axe. Hence it may i'"'i ii'' i !■ I h i ,• 54 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. be perceived '.hat the reproduction of trees, and the protection they afford to Heath-Hens, would be perpetual, or in other words, not circumscribed by any calculable time, provided the persecutors of the latter would be quiet. Beneath these trees grow more dwarfish oaks, overspreading the surface, sometimes with here and there a shrub, and sometimes a thicket. These latter are from about two to ten feet in height. When they are the principal product, they are called, in common conversation, brush, as the flats on which they grow are termed brushy plains. Among this hardy shrubbery may frequently be seen the creep- ing vegetable, named partridge-berry, covering the sand with its lasting verdure. '* ' In many spots the plant which produces hurtleberries sprouts up among the other natives of the soil. These are the more important ; though I ought to inform you, that the hills reach- ing from east to west and forming the spine of the island, sup- port kalmias, hickories, and many other species ; that I have seen azalias and andromedas, as I passed through the wilder- ness, and that Avhere there is water, cranberries, alders, beeches, maples, and other lovers of moisture, take their stations. This region, situated thus between the more thickly inhabited strips or belts on the north and south sides of the island, is much tra- velled by waggons, and intersected accordingly by a great num- ber of paths. " ' As to the birds themselves, the information I possess scarcely amounts to an entire history. You who know the dif- ficulty of collecting facts, will he most ready to excuse my deficiencies. The information I give you is such as I rely on. For the purpose of gathering the materials, I have repeatedly visited their haunts. I have likewise conversed with several men who were brought up at the precincts of the Grouse ground, who had been witnesses of their habits and manners, who were accustomed to shoot them for the market, and who have acted as guides for gentlemen who go the e for sport. " ' Bulk. — An adult Grouse, when fat, weighs as much as a barn-door fowl of moderate size, or about three pounds avoirdu- UPLAND SHOOTING. &s i' poise. But the eagerness of the sportsmen is so great, that a large proportion of those they kill are hut a few months old, and have not attained their complete growth. Notwithstanding the protection of the law, it is very common to disregard it. The retired nature of the situation favors this. It is well under- stood that an arrangement can be made which will blind and silence informers, and the gun is fired with impunity for weeks before the time prescribed in the act. To prevent this unfair and unlawful practice, an association was formed a few years ago, under the title of the ' Brush Club,^ with the express and avowed intention of enforcing the game law. Little benefit, however, has resulted from its laudable exertions ; and, under a conviction that it was impossible to keep poachers away, the so- ciety declined. " ' At present the statute may be considered as operating very little towards their preservation. Grouse, especially full-grown ones, are becoming less frequent. Their numbers are gradually diminishing ; and, assailed as they are on all sides, almost with- out cessation, their scarcity may be viewed as foreboding their eventual extermination. " ' Price, — Twenty years ago, a brace of Grouse could be bought for a dollar. They cost now from three to five dollars. A handsome pair seldom sells in the New York market now-a-days for less than thirty shillings — three dollars and seventy-five cents — nor for more than forty, five dollars. " ' These prices indicate, indeed, the depreciation of money and the luxury of eating. They prove at the same time that Grouse are become rare ; and this fact is admitted by every man who seeks them, whether for pleasure or profit. " ' Ainuurs. — The season for pairing is in March, and the breed- ing time is continued through April and May. Then the male Grouse distinguishes himself by a peculiar sound. When he utters it, the parts about the throat are sensibly inflated and swelled. It may be heard on a still morning for three or more miles ; some say they have jierceived it as far as five or six. This noise is a sort of ventriloquism. It does not strike the ear 66 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. I i. I of the bystander with much force, but impresses him with the idea, though produced within a few rods of him, of a voice a mile or two distant. This note is highly characteristic. Though very peculiar, it is termed tooting^ from its resemblance to the blowing of a conch as heard from a remote quarter. " ' The female makes her nest on the ground, in recesses very rarely discovered by man. She usually lays from ten to twelve eggs. Their color is of a brownish yellow, much resembling those of a Guin'ea-Hen. When hatched, the brood is protected i)y her alone. Surrounded by her young, the mother bird much resem- bles a domestic Hen and Chickens. She frequently leads them to feed in the roads crossing the woods, on the remains of maize and oats contained in the dung dropped by the travelling horses. In that employment they are often surprised by the passengers. On that occasion the dam utters a cry of alarm. The little ones immediately scamper to the brush, and while they are skulking into places of safety, their anxious parent beguiles the spectator by drooping and fluttering her wings, limping along the path, rolling over in the dirt, and other pretences of inability to walk or fly. " ' Food. — A favorite article of their diet is the Heath-Hen plum or partridge-beny, before mentioned ; they also use hurtleberries or cranberries. Worms and insects of several kinds are occasion- ally found in their crops. But in the winter they subsist chielly on acorns and the buds of trees which have shed their leaves. In their stomachs have been sometimes observed the leaves of a plant supposed to be a winter-green ; and it is said when they are much pinched, they betake themselves to the buds of the pine. In convenient places they have been known to enter cleared fields and r jgxle themselves on the leaves of clover, and old gunners have reported that they have been known to tres- pass upon patches of buckwheat and peck up the grains. " * Migration. — They are stationary, and are never known to quit their abode. There are no facts showing in them any disposi- tion to migration. On frosty mornings, and during snow, they perch on th ^ upper branches of pine trees. They avoid wet UPr VND SHOOTING. 57 and swampy places, and are remarkably attached to dry ground. The low and open brush is preferred to high and shrubby thick- ets. Into these latter places they fly for refuge, when closely pressed by the hunters ; and here, under a stiff" and impenetrable cover, they escape the pursuit of dogs and men. Water is so seldom met with on the true GuousE-ground, that it is necessary to carry it along for the pointers to drink. The flights of Grouse are short, but sudden, rapid and whirring. 1 have not heard of any success in taming them. They seem to resist all attempts at domestication In this, as well as in many other respects, they resemble the Quail of New York, or the Partridge of J*enn- sylvania '* ' Blanners. — During the period of mating, and while the fe- males are occupied in incubation, the males have a practice of assembling principally by themselves. To some select and cen- tral spot, where there is very little underwood, they repair from the adjoining district. From the exercises performed there, this is called a scratching-place. The time of meeting is the break of day. As soon as the light appears, the company as- sembles from every side, sometimes to the number of forty or fifty. When the dawn is passed, the ceremony begins by a low tooting from one of the cocks. This is answered by another. They then come forth, one by one, from the bushes, and strut about with all the pride and ostentation they can display. Their necks are incurvated, the feathers on them are erected into a sort of ruff; the plumes of the tails are expanded like fans ; they strut about in a style resembling, as nearly as small may be il- lustrated by great, the pomp of the Turkey-Cock. They seem to vie with each other in stateliness, and, as they pass each other, frequently cast looks of insult and utter notes of defiance. These are the signals for battles. They engage with wonderful spirit and fierceness. During these contests, they leap a foot or two from the ground, and utter a cackling, screaming and discordant cry. They have been found in these places of resort even earlier than the appearance of light in the east. This fact leads to the belief, that a part of them assemble over night. The rest join them ,f :, S8 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. in the morning. This leads to the farther helief that they roost on the ground ; and the opinion is confirmed by the discovery of little rings of dung, apparently deposited by a flock which had passed the night together. After the appearance of the sun, they disperse. These places of exhibition have been often dis- covered by the hunters, and a fatal discovery it has been for poor Grouse. " 'The destroyers construct for themselves lurking-holes made of pine branches, called bough-houses, within a few yards of the parade, and hither they repair with their fowling-pieces, in the latter part of the night, and wait the appearance of the birds. Waiting the moment when two are proudly eyeing each other, or engaged in battle, or when a greater number can be seen in a range, they pour on them a destructive charge of shot. This annoyance has been given in so many places, and to such an ex- tent, that the Grouse, after having been repeatedly disturbed, are afraid to assemble. On approaching the spot to which their instinct prompts them, they perch on the neighboring trees, in- stead of alighting at the scratching-place ; and it remains to be observed how far the restless and tormenting spirit of the marks- man may alter the nature and habits of the Grouse, and oblige them to new ways of life. They commonly keep together, in coveys or packs, as the phrase is, until the pairing season. A full pack consists, of course, of ten or a dozen. Two packs have been known to associate. I lately heard of one whose number amounted to twenty-two. They are so unapt to be startled, that a hunter, assisted by a dog, has been able to shoot almost a whole pack, without making any of them take wing. In like manner, the men lying in concealment near the scratch- ing-places, have been known to discharge several guns before either the report of the explosion or the sight of their wounded or dead fellows would rouse them to flight. It has been farther remarked that when a company of sportsmen have surrounded a pack of Grouse, the birds seldom or never rise upon their pin- ions while they are encircled ; but each runs along until it passes the person that is nearest, and then flutters off" with the UPLAND SIIOOTINQ. 59 ntmost expedition. As you have made no enquiry of lue con- cerning tlie ornithological character of these birds, I have not mentioned it, premising that you are already perfectly acquaint- ed with their classification and description. In a short memoir, written in 1803, and printed in the eighth volume of the il/cf/ica Repository, I ventured an opinion as to the genus and species. Whether I was correct is a technical matter, which I leave you to adjust. I am well aware that European accounts of our pro- ductions are often erroneous, and require revision and amend- meni. This you must perform. For me it remains to repeat «iy jry at the opportunity your invitation has alibrded me to contribute somewhat to your elegant work, and at the same time to assure you of my earnest hope that you may be favored with ample means to complete it. "'Samuel L. Mitchill.'" " Duly sensible of the honor of the foregoing communication, and grateful for the good wishes with which it is concluded, I shall now, in further elucidation of the subject, subjoin a few particulars, properly belonging to my own department. " It is somewhat extraordinary • lot the European naturalists, in their various accounts of our dilicri ;it species of Grouse, should have said little or nothing of the one now before us, which in its voice, manners, and peculiarity of plumage, is the most singular, and in its flesh the most excellent of all those of its tribe, that inhabit the territory of the United States. It seems to have es- caped Catesby, during his residence and different tours through this country, and it was not till more than twenty years after his return to England, viz., 1743, that he first saw some of these birds, as he informs us, at Cheswick, the seat of the Earl of Wilmington. His lordship said they came from America ; but from what particular part could not tell. BufFon has confounded it with the Ruffed Grouse, the Common Partridge of New England, or Pheasant of Pennsylvania, ( Te/z-ao Umbellus.) Edwards and Pennant have, however, discovered that it is a diflerent species, but have said little of its note, of its flesh or ! 'M it I ■ i' I i' 1 60 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. I 1 i I': peculiarities ; for alas, there was neither voice or action, nor de- licacy of flavor in the shrunk and decayed skin from which the former took his figure and the latter his description ; and to this circumstance must be attributed the barrenness and defects of both. Tliis rare bird, though an inhabitant of dillerent and very distant districts of North America, is extremely particular in selecting his place of residence, pitching only upon those tracts whose features and productions correspond with his mode of life, and avoiding immense intermediate regions that he never visits. Open, dry places, thinly interspersed with trees, or partially overgrown with shrub-oak, are his favorite haunts. Accordingly, we find these birds on the GROUSE-plains of New .Jersey, in Burlington County, as well as on the brushy plains of Long Island ; among the trees and shrub-oaks of Pocano, in Northampton County, in Pennsylvania ; over the whole extent of the barrens of Kentucky, on the luxuriant plains and prairies of the Indiana and Upper Louisiana, and according to the informa- tion of the late Governor Lewis, on the vast remote plains of the Columbia River, in all these places preserving the same singular habits. Their predilection for such situations will be best accounted for by considering the following facts and circum- stances : — First, their mode of flight is generally direct and labo- rious— ill calculated for the labyrinth of a high and thick forest, crowded and intersected with trunks and arms of trees that require continual angular evolution of wing or sudden turnings, to which they are by no means accustomed. I have always observed them to avoid the high-timbered groves that occur here and there in the Barrens. Connected with this fact is a circumstance related to me by a very respectable inhabitant of that county — viz., that one forenoon a Cock-GRousE struck the stone chimney of his house with such force, as instantly to fall dead to the ground. Secondly, their known dislike of ponds, marshes, or watery places, which they avoid, drinking but seldom, and it is believed never from such places. Even in confinement this peculiarity has been taken notice of. While I was in the State of Tennessee, a person, living within a few miles of Nashville, UPLAND SHOOTING. 61 had caught an old IIcn-Grouse in a trap, and being obliged to keep her in a large cage, she struck and abused the rest of the poul- try, he remarked that she never drank, and that she even avoided that quarter of the cage where the cup containing the water was placed. Happening one day to let some water fall on the cage, it trickleil down in drops along the bars, which the bird no sooner observed than she eagerly picked them olF, drop by drop, with a dexterity that showed she had been habituated to this mode of quenching her thirst, and probably to this mode only, in those dry and barren tracts, where, except the drops of dew and drops of rain, water is very rarely to be met with. For the space of a week he watched her closely, to discover whether she still refused to drink ; but, though she wos constantly fed on Indian corn, the cup and water still remained untouched and untasted. Yet, no sooner did he again sprinkle water on the bars of the cage, than she eagerly and rapidly picked them off, as before. The last and probably the strongest inducement to their preferring these places, is the small acorn of the shrub- oak, the strawberries, huckleberries and partridge-berries, with which they abound, and which constitute the principal part of the food of these birds. These brushy thickets also afford them excellent shelter, being almost impenetrable to dogs or birds of prey. In all those places where they inhabit, they are, in the strictest sense of the word, resident ; having their particular haunts and places of rendezvous — as described in the preceding ac- count— to which they are strongly attached. Yet they have been known to abandon an entire tract of such country, when, from whatever cause it might proceed, it became again covered with forest. A few miles south of the town of York, in Penn- sylvania, commences an extent of country fairly of the charac- ter described, now chiefly covered with wood, but still retaining the name of Barrens. In the recollection of an old man, born in that part of the country, this tract abounded with Grouse. The timber growing up, in progress of years, these birds totally disappeared, and for a long period of time he had seen none of them, until, migrating with his family to Kentucky, on entering i km f 62 FRANK FORESTEH S FIELD SPORTS. -■! Il ! the Baiiukns, he one morning recognizeil the well-known music of hi:!< old actjuuintancos, tiio Grouse, which, he assures me, are the very sumo with those he had known in Pennsylvania. But, what appeared to mo the most remarkable circumstance relative to this bird, is, that none of all those writers who have attempted its history, have taken the least notice of those two extraordi- nary ba;fs of yellow skin, which mark the neck of the male, and which constitute so striking a peculiarity. These appear to be formed by an expansion of the gullet, as well as of tlie exterior skin of the neck, which, when the bird is at rest, hangs in loose, pendulous wrinkled folds along the side of the neck, the supple- mental wings, at the same time, as well as when tiie bird is Hy- ing, lying along the neck. But when these bags are inllated with air, in breeding-time, they are equal in size, and very much resemble in color a middle-sized, fully-ripe orange. By means of this curious apparatus, which is very observable seve- ral hundred yards off, he is enabled to produce the extraordinary sound mentioned above, which though it may easily be imitated, is yet dilficult to describe by words. It consists of three notes of the same tone, resembling those produced by the Nigiit- Hawks, in their rapid descent, each strongly accented, the latter being twice as long as the others. When several are thus en- gaged, the ear is unable to distinguish the regularity of those triple notes, there being at such times one continued humming, which is disagreeable and perplexing, from the impossibility of ascertaining from what distance or quarter it proceeds. While uttering this, the bird exhibits all the ostentatious gesticulations of a Turkey-cock, erecting and fluttering his neck-wings, wheel- ing and passing before the female, and close before his fellows, as in defiance. Now and then are heard some rapid, cackling notes, not unlike that of a person tickled to excessive laughter ; and, in short, one can scarcely listen to them without feeling disposed to laugh from sympathy. These are uttered by the the males, Avhile engaged in fight, on which occasion they leap up against each other, exactly in the manner of Turkies, seem- ngly with more malice than effect. This humming continues UPLAND SlIOOTINQ. 03 k'S, !r the im- from a little before day-break to eigbt or iiiiio o'clock in the tiiornini^, wbon the purtios separate to seek for food. " Frcsli-plouglicd field 1 in the vicinity of their resorts are sure to be visited by these birds, every morning, and frequently also in the evening. On one of these I counted, at one time, seventeen mules, most of whom were in the attitude repre- sented, making such a continued sound as, I am persuaded, might have been heard more tban a mile olF. The peoj)le of the Daruens informed me that when the weather becomes se- vere, with snow, they approach the barn and farm-house, and are sometimes seen sitting on the fields in the Indian corn, seem- ing almost domesticated. At such times great numbers are taken in traps. No pains, however, on regular plans, have ever been persisted in, as far as I was informed, to domesticate these delicious birds. A Mr. Reid, who lives between the Pii.ot- Knobs and Bairdstown, told me that, a few years ago, one of his sons found a Grouse's nest, with fifteen eggs, which he brought home and immediately placed beneath a hen then sitting, tak- ing away her own. The nest of the Grouse was on the ground, under a tussock of long grass, formed with very little art and few materials. The eggs were brownish white, and about the size of a pullet's. In three or four days, the whole were hatched. Instead of following the Hex, they compelled her to move after them, distracting her with the extent and di versity of their wanderings ; and it was a day or two before they seemed to understand her language, or consent to be guided by her. They were let out to the fields, where they paid little regard to their nurse, and, in a few days, only three of them re- mained. These became exceedingly tame and familiar, were most expert fly-catchers, but soon after they also disappeared. " On dissecting these birds, the gizzard was found extremely muscular, having almost the hardness of a stone ; the heart remarkably large ; the crop was filled with briar-knots, con- taining the larvse of some insect, quantities of a species of green lichen, small, hard seeds, and some grains of Indian Corn." — Wihnn''s Am. Ornith. . VOL. I. 7 04 FRANK FORESTKR's FIELD SPORTS. Noxt to this fine bird, both in his game qualities and the excellence of his llesb, I note, unhesitatingly, THE RUFFED GROUSE. : I Tetrao UmbeUns. Linn : Wilson : Audubon. La GcHnotte Hup- pce de Pcnnsylvanie. Brissot. — The Pheasant, or Partridtie. " Male, 18.24. '' Common from Maryland to Labrador, and, in the interior, from the mountainous districts to Canada and theJashatchewan, Columbian River. Resident. " Adult Male. " Bill short, robust, slightly arched, rather obtuse ; the base covered by feathers ; upper mandible, with the dorsal outline, straight in the feathered part, convex toward the end, the edges overlapping, the tip declinate; under mandible somewhat bulg- ing toward the tip ; the sides convex. Nostrils concealed among the feathers. Head and neck sm.all. Body bulky. Feet of or- dinary length. Shank feathered, excepting at the lower part in front, where it is scutellate, spurless ; toes scutellate above, pec- tinate on the sides ; claws arched, depressed, obtuse. " Plumage compact, glossy. Fe.ithers of head narrow, and elongated into a curved tuft. A large space on the neck desti- tute of feathers, but covered by an erectile rutF of elongated fea- thers, of which the upper are silky, shining, and curved forward at the end, which is very broad and rounded. Wings short, broad, curved, and much rounded. Tail long, ample, rounded, of eighteen feathers. " Bill brown color, brownish-black toAvard the tip. Iris hazel. Feet yellowish-gray. Upper j)art of the head and wing part of the neck bright yellowisii-red. Back rich che^nut, marked with oblong white spots, margined with black. " Tail reddish-yellow, barred and minutely mottled with black, and terminated by a broad band of the latter color, between two narrow bands of bluish-white, of which the one is terminal. A t% UPLAND SHOOTING. 66 yellowish band from the upper mandible to vhe eye, beyond which it is prolonged. Throat and lower part of the nock light brownish-yellow. Lower rulf feathers of the same color, barred with reddish-brown ; the upper black, with blue redcctions. A tuft of light cbesnut feathers under the wings. The rest of the under j)aits yellowish-white, with broad, transverse spots of brownish-red ; the abdomen yellowish-red ; and the under tail coverts mottled with brown. " Length, IS inches ; extent of wings, 2 feet ; bill, along the ridge, J ; along the gap, 1,'^ ; shank, IJ^; middle toe, 1;'. " Adult female. " The plumage of the female is less developed, and inferior in beauty. The feathers of the head and rulf are less elongated ; the latter of a dull black. The tints of the plumage generally are lighter than in the male. " The eggs usually measure an inch and a half in length, by an inch and two-twelfths in breadth, and are of an uniform dull yellowish tint." — Auduboii's Birds of America. " This is the Partridoe of the Eastern States, and the Phea- sant of Pennsylvania and the Southern Districts. It is represent- ed as it was faithfully copied from a i)erfect and very beautiful specimen. This elegant species is well known in almost every quarter of the United States, and appears to inhabit a very extensive range of country. It is connnon at Moose Fort, on Hudson's Bay, in lat. 51°, is frequent in the upper parts of Georgia, very abundant in Kentucky, and the Indiana Territory, and was found by Capts. Lewis and Clark in crossing the great range of niountains that divide the waters of the Columbia and Missouri more than three thousand miles, by the measurement, from the mouth of the latter. Its favorite places of resort are high mountains, cov- ered with the balsam, pine, hemlock, and other evergreens. Unlike the Pinnated Grouse, it always prefers the woods, is seldom or never found in open plains, but loves the pine-shel- tered declivities of mountains near streams of water. ^!| ir^ i. I ! I ■Li 66 FRANK FCKESTEr's FIELD SPORTS. ' This great difference of disposition in two species whose food seems to be nearly the same, is very extraordinary. In those open plains called the Barrens, in Kentucky, the Pinnated Grouse was seen in great numbers, but none of the Ruffed. While in the high groves with which this singular tract of coun- try is interspersed, the latter, or Pheasant, was frequently met with, but not a single individual of the former. The native haunts of the Pheasant, being a cold, high, mountainous, and woody country, it is natural to expect that as we descend from thence to the sea shores, and the low, flat, and warm climate of the Southern States, these birds should become more rare, and such is indeed the case. In the low parts of Carolina, and Geor- gia, and Florida, they ar& very seldom observed, but as we advance inland to the mountains, they again make their appear- ance. In the low parts of New Jersey we indeed occasionally meet with them, but this is owing to the more northerly situa- tion of the country, for even here they are far less numerous than among the mountains. Dr. Burton, and several other English writers, have spoken of a Long-tailed Grouse, said to inhabit the back parts of Virginia, which can be no other than the present species ; there being, as far as I am acquainted, only these two,* the Ruffed and Pinnated Grouse, found natives within the United States. The manners of the Pheasant are solitary, they are seldom found in coveys of more than four or five together, and more usually in pairs, or singly. They leave their seques- tered haunts in the woods early in the morning, and seek the path or road to pick up gravel, and glean among the droppings of the horses. In travelling among the mountains that bound the Susquehanna, I was always able to furnish myself with an abundant supply of these birds without leaving the path. If the weather be foggy or lowering, they are sure to be seen in such situations. They generally move along with great stateliness, the broad, fan-like tail spread out. " The drumming, as it is usually called, of the Pheasant, is another singularity of this species. This is performed by the • This is, of course, an error of Wilson's. UPLAND SHOOTING. 0/ male alone. In walking through the solitary woods frequented by these birds, a stranger is surprised by suddenly hearing a kind of thumping, very similar to that produced by striking two full-blown ox-bladders together, but much louder ; the strokes at first are slow and distinct, but gradually increase in rapidity, till they run into each other : resembling the rumbling sound of very distant thunder dying away gradually on the ear. After a few minutes' pause, this is again repeated, and in a calm day may be heard nearly a mile olF. This drumming is most com- mon in spring, and is the call of the cock to a favorite female. It is produced in the following manner : The bird, standing on an old prostrate log, generally in a retired and sheltered situa- tion, lowers his wings, erects his expanded tail, contracts his throat, elevates the two tufts of feathers on the neck, and inflates his whole body something in the manner of a Turkey- cock, strutting and wheeling about in great stateliness. After a few manoeuvres of this kind he begins to strike with his stiffened wings in short and quick strokes, which become more and more rapid until they run into each other, as has been already describ- ed. This is most common in the morning and evening, though I have heard them drumming at all hours of the day. By means of this, the gunner is led to his retreat, though to those unac- quainted with the sound there is great deception in the supposed distance, it generally appearing to be much nearer than it really is. The Pheasant* begins to pair in Aprii,, and builds its nest early in May. This is placed on the ground at the root of a bush, old log, or other sheltered or solitary situation, well-sur- rounded with withered leaves. Unlike that of the Quail, it is open above, and is usually composed of dry leaves and grass. The eggs are from nine to fifteen in number, of brownish-white, without any spots, and nearly as large as those of a Pullet. The young leave the nest as soon as hatched, and are directed by the cluck of the mother, very much in the manner of the common Hen. On being surprised, she exhibits all the distress and affec- tionate manoeuvres of the Quail, and most other birds, to lead yoa • All error ! The RiitTed flrotiso is polygamous, and docs not pair at all. i!i , I 68 KRANK FOKESTKK's FIKLD SPORTS. ir away from the spot. I once started a Hen Pheasant with a single young one, seemingly only a few days old ; there might have been more, but 1 observed only this ort«. The mother fluttered before me for a moment, but suddenly darted towards the young one, seized it in her bill, and llcw off along the sur- face through the woods with great steadiness and rapidity, till she was beyond my sight, leaving me in great surprise at the incident. I made a very close and active search around the spot for the rest, but without success. Here was a striking instance of something more than what is termed blind instinct, in this remarkable deviation from her usual manoeuvres when she has a numerous brood. It would have been impossible for me to have injured the aifectionate mother who had exhibited such an example of presence of mind, reason, and sound judgment as must have convinced vhe most bigoted advocate of mere instinct. To carry off a whole brood in this manner at once, would have been impossible, and to attempt to save one at the expense of the the rest, would be unnatural. She, therefore, usually takes the only possible mode of saving them in that case, by decoying the person in pursuit of herself, by such a natural imitation of lameness as to impose on most people. But here, in the case of a single, solitary young one, she instantly altered her plan, and adopted the most simple and effectual means for its preservation. The Pheasant usually springs within a few yards, with a loud whir- ring noise, and flies Avith great vigor through the woods, beyond reach of view, before it alights. With a good dog, however, they are easily found, and at some times exhibit a singular degree of infatuation, by looking down from the branches where they sit, on the dog below, who, the more noise he keeps up, seems the more to confuse and stupify them, so that they may be shot down one by one till tho whole are killed, without attempting to fly off. In such cases, those on the lower limbs must be taken first ; for should the upper be first killed, in their fall they alarm those below, who immediately fly off. In deep snows they are usually taken in traps, commonly dead traps, supported by a figure 4 trigger. At this season, when suddenly Ul'LAND SHOOTING. 69 M: alarmed, tliey frequently dive into the snow, particularly when it has newly fallen, and coming out at a considerable distance, again take wing. They are pretty hard to kill, and will often carry olF a large load to the distance of two hundred yards, and drop down dead. Sometimes in the depth of winter they ap- proach the farm-house, and lurk near the barn or about the garden. They have, also, been often taken young, antl tamed, so as to associate with the fowls ; and their eggs have freiiuently been hatched under the common Hen, but these rarely survive until full grown. They are exceedingly fond of the seeds of grapes, occasionally eat ants, chesnuts, blackberries, and vari- ous vegetables. Formerly they were numerous in the immedi- ate vicinity of Philadelphia, but as the woods were cleared, and population increased, they retreated to the interior. At present there are very few to be found within several miles of the city, and those only singly in the most solitary and retired woody recesses. The Pheasant is in best order for the table in Sep- tember and October. At this season they feed chielly on wor- tleberries, and the little aromatic partridgeberries, the last of which give the llesh a peculiar delicate flavor. With the former, our mountains are literally covered from August to November, and these constitute at that season, the greater part of their food. During the deep snows of winter they have recourse to the buds of alder, and the tender buds of laurel. I have frequently found their crops distended with a large handful of these latter alone, and it has been confidently asserted that after being fed for some time on the laurel buds, the llesh becomes highly dangerous to eat of, partaking of the poisonous qualities of the plant. The same has been asserted of the flesh of the deer, when, in severe weather and deep snows they subsist on the leaves and bark of the laurel. Though I have myself ate freely of the flesh of the Pheasant, after emptying it of large quantities of laurel buds, without experiencing any bad consequences ; yet from the re- spectability of those, some of them eminent physicians, who have particularized cases in which it has proved deleterious and even fatal, I am inclined to believe in certain cases, wnere this ' I ^OR ^ ., iitt *l:ii 70 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. kind of food has been long continued, and the birds allowed to remain undraM n for several days, until the contents of the crop and stomach have had time to difiuse themselves through the flesh, as is too often the case, it may be unwholesome, and even dangerous. Great numbers of these birds are brought to our markets at all times during fall and winter, some of which are brought from a distance of more than a hundred miles, and have been probably dead a week or two, unpicked and undrawn, before they are purchased for the table. " Regulations prohibiting them from being brought to market, unless picked and drawn, would very probably be a sufficient security against all danger. At these inclement seasons, how- ever, they are lean and dry, and, indeed, at all times, their flesh is far inferior to that of the Pinnated Grouse. They are usually sold in Philadelphia market at from three-quarters of a dollar to a dollar and a quarter a pair, — sometimes higher." — Wilson's Am. Ornith. The last of this species which it is worth our while to notice as a sporting bird, is the Canada Grouse, and even it, although Mr. Audubon speaks of it as abundant in parts of Maine, and although it unquestionably exists in the north-eastern angle of New York, is so rarely met, and so shy, as to be known to very few of our sportsmen. The Willow Gpouse, or Willow Ptarmigan, perhaps the most beautiful of all the American species, and perhaps to be met with in the extreme north of Maine, is too uncommon to be classed as game. I fear, indeed, that few of my readers will ever have the good fortune to kill the beautiful little Grouse of which we are now speaking. I doubt whether it would ever lie to dogs. It is a solitary forest bird. ■^ ', ill..; ' t; " !i I ' III <• II- !.■ Ml •i(,;; :l r I M.-l: It li'- S* ! 1.! .1 ' 'l ' ' I . 1 . lUt- . a •II' i v*|.Ti., 1 .;,!■• M'. s:v :i,.;;iiiC. I i i !.o il r I"." l,.>i'^'.-^t i)i v; 'i •: iV ! m ■I I 1 ' I M ■M^i UPLAND SHOOTING. 71 THE CANADA GROUSE. Tetrao Canadensis. Linn : Bonaparte : Audubon. Spottf.d Grouse ; Franklin^s Grouse ; Spruce Partridge. " Male, 15J.21J. Female, 15i.21. " Plentiful from the Northern parts of New York to Labra- dor, as well as from Canada to the Arctic Sea, Columbia River. Partially migratory in winter. " Adult Male. " Bill short, robust, slightly arched, rather obtuse ; the base covered by feathers ; upper mandible with the dorsal outline convex toward the end — the edges sharp and overhanging — the tip declinate ; lower mandible slightly convex in its dorsal out- line ; the back broad and rounded; the sides sloping outward ; the tip rather rounded. Nostrils basal, lateral, concealed by the short feathers. Head small ; neck of ordinary length ; body full. Feet short, rather small ; tarsus short, roundish, feathered. Toes scutellate above, broadly margined and pectinate ; the an- terior ones connected by a web at the base ; the hind toe very small, the two lateral about equal, the middle one much longer ; claws short, arched, compressed, rather obtuse. " Plumage compact, slightly glossed. Feathers of the head very short. Wings short, broad, much rounded and curved, the third quill longest, the fourth next, the second and fifth nearly equal, the first very short. Tail ample, of ordinary length, rounded, of sixteen broad rotundate truncate* feathers, having a minute mucio. " Bill and claws brownish black, Irisf hazle. Fringed mem- brane over the eyes, vermillion. Toes purplish gray. Upper plumage and flanks brownish black, transversely barred with brownish gray ; the tip of each feather with two bars of the lat- ter color ; on the hind parts the bars are larger, and the pale • Truncate — Cut off short and abruptly, t Iris— The circle about the pupil of tho eye. r-*" ..iji m I 'i ia FUANK rOKtMTKR^S FIELD 81>0KTd. ones iiKtru tiiiji;ed with brown, (juills and liir;.;ci reverts, hliick- ish brown, llie outer etlj^es oftlio primaries pale brownish };iay, and tlioso of the sei;ondaries minutely mottled with the same. Tail coverts brownish l)lack, minutely mottled and tipped with grayish white ; tail feathers darker, and tipped with dull brown- ish red. Jiower parts black, the feathers on the throat havin<; a white spot near the end ; those of the lower and lateral parts of the neck unspotted ; of the breast, with a broad, subterminal spot, and the under tail coverts largely tipped with white. Inner wing covorts above brown, the proximal and axillaries tipped with white. "Length, 1.5J inches; extent of wings, 21j ; bill, along the back, yj; along the edge, l^^ ; tarsus, 1] ; weight, 17oz. " Adult female. " The female is not much smaller. The superciliary mem- brane is much less, but of the same color. The upper parts are nearly of the same tints, but more broadly barred ; the head, sides of the neck, fore neck, and anterior parts of the breast, yellowish gray, barred with brownish black ; the lower parts, grayish black, barred with reddish white. The tail is minutely tipped and mottled with brownish red. The younger females have more of the yellowish red tints than the old ones. In other respects, the coloring is nearly similar. "Length, 15j inches; extent of wings, 21 ; weight, 15oz."- Audiibon. Inasmuch as this rare and beautiful little species of Grouse is almost entirely unknown to our sportsmen, as I have never found any who have killed it, and very few who are aware of its existence ; and as, with a single exception, I have never but once shot it, though I have on several occasions tried for it in the State of Maine, on the waters of the Penobscot, I cannot speak as to its habits or haunts with any certainty, from my own personal experience, or from the report of sportsmen. I am in- clined to believe, however, that it is not a bird which will be found to yield much sport, as I doubt its lying to setteid or Ul'LAND StlOOIINQ. 73 pointers, or boiii;; met with in siiinciciit nuruhcr!) to render tlie pursuit of it plousurahlo or oxi'iliii.:. Tiio sin;^lo spoi'iinoii whicli 1 killeil, rose sutldonly from the j^rouiul, wiiioh wuH covered with snow to the depth of a f(i()t or more, in a little dell or hasiii, full of tall lan-h and sprui-c-lirs, just as I came over the hrow of t!io hill ; and I was fortmiiito enough to kill it at lon'^ rani;e, hy a simp shot. It was a lino cock bird, agreeiiii; in all respects accurately with the above de- scription, from the pages of the greatest living naturalist. Feeling that something more than this biro notice is due to this beautiful bird, and with some faint hope that, by calling the attention of sporls^men to the undoubted fact of its existence within our sporting limits, I may add one to our list of game, I shall proceed to quote from the author already noticed, whose ornithological distinctions and dcscri|)tions I shall adopt through- out this work, the t'ollowing graphic account of his experience as relates to this Grouse. I say, that 1 entertain but a faint hope, because among many intelligent and observing friends, keen sportsmen and good shots, both in Lower Canada and New Brunswick, 1 have never heard this Grouse named as a bird of game. In fact, I believe that no bird which haunts the depths of the North American wilderness can, under any circumstances, atlbrd much sport to the legiti- mate i)ursucr, though they may be treed with cur-dogs, and shot silting, in sulficient numbers to supply markets, and to satisfy the sporting aspirations of the prowling, backwoods' gunner. " No sooner had I entered the State of Maine, than I consi- dered the Canada Grouse as one of the principal objects of my enquiry. Every person to whom I spoke about it, assured me that it was rather abundant during the wliole year, and conse- quently that it bred in the country. All this I fortunately proved to be quite true ; but no one told me of the difficulties I should have to encounter in watching its habits ; and although I ultimately succeeded in this, the task was perhaps as severe as any which I ever undertook. ^mm 74 FK'ANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. " In August, 1832, I reached the delightful little village of Dennisville, about eighteen miles distant from Eastport. There I had the good fortune to become an inmate of the kind and most hospitable family of Judge Lincoln, Avho has resided there for nearly half a century, and who is blessed with a family of sons equal to any with whom I am acquainted, for talents, persever- ance and industry. Each of these had his own peculiar avoca- tion, and I naturally attached myself more particularly to one who, ever since his childhood, manifested a decided preference for ornithological pursuits. This young gentleman, Tliomas Lincoln, offered to lead me to those retired woods, where the Spruce Pe.i tridges were to be found. We accordingly set out on the 27th of August, my two sons accompanying us. Thomas, being a perfect woodsman, advanced at our head, and I can as- sure you, reader, that to follow him through the dense and tangled woods of his native country, or over the deep mosses of Labrador, where he accompanied me afterward, would be an undertaking not easily accomplished. We, however, managed to follow our guide the whole day, over fallen trees, among tangled brushwood, and through miry ponds ; yet not a single Grouse did we find, even in the places where he had before seen them ; and great was my mortification when, on our return, toward sunset, as we were crossing a meadow belonging to his father, not more than a quarter of a mile from the village , the people employed in making hay informed us that about half an hour after our departure, they had seen a fine covey. We were too much fatigued to go in search of them, and therefore made for home. " Ever ardent, if not impatient, I immediately made arrange- ments for procuring some of these birds, offering a good price for a few pairs of olc^and young, and in a few days renewed my search, in company with a man, who had assured me he could guide me to their breeding-grounds, which he actually did, to my great pleasure. These breeding-grounds I cannot better describe, than by telling you that the larch forests, which are here called * Hackmetack Woods,' are as difficult to traverse UPLAND SHOOTING. 75 - i'M as the most tangled swamps of Labrador. The whole ground is covered by the most beautiful carpeting of verdant moss, over which the light-footed Grouse walk with ease, but among which we sunk at every step or two up to the waist, our legs stuck in the mire, and our bodies squeezed beneath the dead trunks and branches of the trees, the minute leaves of which insinuated themselves between my clothes, and nearly blinded me. We saved our guns from injury, however, and seeing some of the Spruce Partridges before they perceived us, we procured seve- ral specimens. They were in beautiful plumage, but all male birds. It is in such places that these birds usually reside, and it is very seldom that they are seen in the open grounds, beyond the borders of their almost impenetrable retreats. On returning to my family, I found that another hunter had brought two fine females, but had foolishly neglected to bring the young ones, which he had caught and given to his children, who, to my great mortification, had already cooked them when my messenger ar- rived at his house. " The Spruce Partridge, or Canada Grouse, breeds in the States of Maine and Massachusetts, about the middle of May? nearly a month earlier than at Labrador. The males pay their addresses to the females, by strutting before them on the ground or moss, in the manner of the Turkey-cock, frequently rising se- veral yards in the air, in a spiral manner, when they beat their wings violently against their body, thereby producing a drum- ming noise, clearer than that of the Ruffed Grouse, and which can be heard at a considerable distance. The female places her nest beneath the low horizontal branches of fir-trees, taking care to conceal it well. It consists of a bed of Wigs, dry leaves and mosses, on which she deposits from eight to fourteen eggs, of a deep fawn color, irregularly splashed with different tints of brown. They raise only one brood in the season, and the young follow the mother as soon as they are hatched. The males leave the females whenever incubation has commenced, and do not join them again until late in autumn ; indeed, they remove ^^s^ss 7b FKANK FOKF.STER S FIELD SVORTS. to diflcient woods, wlicn tl.cy are more sliy and wary than dur- ing the love season or the winter. " This species walks much in the manner of our Partridge. I never saw one jerk its tail, as the Rufl'cd Grouse does ; nor do they burrow in the snow, like that bird, hut usually resort to trees, to save themselves from their pursuers. They seldom move from thence at the barking of a dog ; and, when roused, fly only to a short distance, uttering a few clucks, Avhich they repeat on alighting. In general, when a Hock is discovered, each individual forming it may he easily caught ; for, so seldom do they see men in the secluded places they inhabit, th.at they do not seem to be aware of the hostile proj)ensitics of the race. " Along the shores of the Bay of Fundy, t!;e Spruce Partridge is much more common than tl;e Rufl'cd Grouse ; which, indeed, gradually becomes scarcer the farther nortlr we proceed, and is unknown in Labrador, where it is replaced by the Willow Grouse, and two other species. The females of the Canada Grouse differ materially in their coloring, in different latitudes. In Maine, for instance, they are more richly colored than in La- brador, where I observed that all the individuals procured by me were of a much grayer hue than those .shot near Dennisville. The like diflerence is, perhaps, still more remarkable in the Rufled Grouse, which are so very gray and uniforndy colored in the Northern and Easte.n States, as to induce almost every person to consider them as of a species distinct from those found in Kentucky, or any of the southern mountainous districts of the Union. I have in my pos.scssion skins of both species, procured a thousand miles apart, that ])resent these remarkahlc diflcrences in the general hue of their plumage. " All the species of this genus indicate the approach of rainy weather or a snow storm with far more precision than the best baromete;- ; for, on the afternoon previous to the occurrence of such Aveather, they all resort to their roosting-places earlier, by several hours, than they do during a continuation of fine wea- ther. I have seen groups of Grouse flying up to their roosts at mid-day, or as soon as the weather felt heavy, and have observed UPLAND SHOOTING. 77 that it f^cncrally rained in the course of tliat afternoon. When, on tiie contrary, tlie same flock would remain busily engaged in search of fooil, until sunset, I found the following morning fresh and clear. Indeed, I believe that this kind of foresight exists in the whole tribe of gallinaceous birds. " One day, while on the coast of Labrador, I accidentally al- most walked upon a female Canada Grouse, surrounded by her young brood. It was on the ISth of July. The aii'rigbted mo- ther, on seeing us, ruflled up all her feathers, like a common hen, and advanced close to us, as if determined to defend her olfspring. Her distressed condition claimed our forbearance, and we allow- ed her to remain in safety. The moment we retired, she smoothed down her plumage, and uttered a tender maternal cluck, when the little ones took to tlicir wings, altliough thoy were, I can venture to assert, not more than one tvceh old, with so much ease and delight, that I felt higlily pleased at having allowed them to escape. "Two days afterward, my youthful and industrious ])arty returned to the Ripley with a pair of these Grouse in moult. This species undergoes that severe trial at a much earlier season than the Willow Ptarmigan. My son reported that some young ones which he saw with their mother, were able to lly fully a hundred yards, and alighted on tiie low trees, among which he cauglit several of them, which, however, died before he reached the vessel. " This species is found not only in the State of Elaine, but also in the mountainous districts of New Flampshiio, and the northern parts of New York, as well as around our Northern Great Lakes and the liead-waters of the Missouri. It is abun- dant in the British Provinces of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland and Labrador. " Among the great number, procured at all seasons of the year, which I have examined, I never found one without the rufous band at the extremity of the tail ; nor did I see any hav- ing the terminal white spot on the u])per tail-coverts, exhibited in figures of this species. !■ \i\f ' il'i' .■i-:.ii...'ii>- S3ml MMM ^i Hi V8 FRANK FOKESTEU's FIELD SPORTS " Thuir food consists of berries of different sorts, and the young twigs and blossoms of several species of plants. In the summer and autumn, I have often found them gorged with berries of the plant which is commonly called ' Solomon's seal.' In the winter I have seen the crop filled with the short leaves of the larch or hackmetack. " I have frequently heard it said that these birds could be knocked down with sticks, or that a whole covey could be shot, while perched on trees, by beginning at the lowest one ; but I never witnessed anything of the kind, and cannot therefore vouch for the truth of the assertion. During the autumn of 1S33, these birds were uncommonly plentiful in the State of Maine. My friend Edward Harris, of New York, Thomas Lincoln, and others, killed a great number ; and the latter gen- tleman procured a pair alive, which were fed on oats and did well. " The flesh of this Grouse is dark, and fit for being eaten only when it has fed on berries. In winter, when it feeds on the leaves of trees and other plants, the flesh is quite bitter and disagreeable. "According to Dr. Richardson, all the thick and swampy black spruce forests between Canada and the Arctic ocean abound with this bird, and considerable numbers exist, in the severest seasons, as high as the 67th parallel. I am informed by Mr. Townsend that it is also plentiful on the Rocky Moun- tains and the plains of the Columbia, from which parts I have obtained specimens differing in nothing from others procured in Maine and Labrador. I have also compared those in the Edin- burgh Museum, which Mr. Douglass w'as pleased to name Franklin's Grouse, with several of my own, and feel confident that they are all of one and the same species." From this vivid and life-like description of this beautiful little Grouse, its habits, food, motions, and the districts which it inhabits, it will be evident to all that it cannot be denied a place among the Upland game of the United States and British Pro- UPLAND SHOOTING. 79 vinces; while it is, I fear, scarcely less apparent that neither its numbers nor its manuers will ever, in probability, allow it to be pursued successfully for the purposes of sport. In one respect only I must venture to ilifFer from the great authority and venerable man, whom I have quoted above ; and this on a point only whereon the least scientific may be allowed to differ from the opinions of the wisest ; since it is admitted everywhere that ^:(.n'!i ; irregularly barred with light red. Tail grayish blue, excepting the middle * Mandihlc — division of bill corresponding to the jaws. t Scutellate — covered with scales overlapping each other like tiles. X Pectinate — toothed like a comb. ^ Auricular — belonging to the ear. UPLAND SHOOTING. 81 y feathers, which are dull grayish yellow, sprinkled with hlack. Sides of the neck spotted with white. Under parts white, streaked with hrownish-red, transversely and undulatingly harred with hlack. Sides and under tail coverts, reddish. " Length, 10 inches ; extent of wings, 15 ; bill along the back, 1, along the gap, ^^ ; tarsus \ ; middle toe nearly the sanie. " Young Male. " Similar to the adult male in the general distribution of the colors, but the white of the head and throat bright reddish- yellow ; the back of the fore-neck and sides of the head, deep brown ; the under parts less pure and more dusky ; and the tail of a duller gray. " Adult Female. " The female resembles the young male, but is more deci- dedly colored ; the bill darker, the head of a more uniform and richer reddish-yellow ; the sides of the neck spotted with yel- low and black. " Young Female. " The young females are somewhat smaller and lighter in their tints than the young males. " Very young Birds. " Bill brownish-yellow. Iris light hazel. The general color of the upper parts, light yellowish-brown, patched with gray; sides of the head dusky." — Auduhon's Birds of America. " This well known bird is a general inhabitant of North America, from the northern parts of Canada and Nova Scotia, in which latter place it is said to be migratory to the extremity of the peninsula of Florida, and was seen in the neighborhood of the Great Osage Village in the interior of Louisiana. They are numerous in Kentucky and Oiiio. Mr. Pennant remarks that they have been lately introduced into the Island of .lainaica, where they appear to thrive greatly, breeding in that warm climate twice in the year. Capt. Henderson mentions them as being plenty near the Belize, at the Bay of Honduras. They \\n -vrfeaMBMHiM K ; 82 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ■i Ji rarely frequent the forest, and are most numerous in the vicinity of well cultivated plantations, where grain is plenty. They, however, occasionally seek shelter in the woods, perching on the branches, or secreting themselves among the brushwood., but are found most usually in open fields, or along fences shel- tered by thickets of briars; when they are not too much perse- cuted by the sportsman they become almost htilf domesticated, approach the barn, particularly in winter, and sometimes in that severe season mix with the poultry to glean up a subsistence. Tiiey remain with us a whole year, and often sutler extremely by long, hard winters, and deep snows. At such times the arts of man combine with the inclemency of the season for their destruction. To the ravages of the gun are added others of a more insidious kind. Traps are placed on almost every planta- tion in such places as they are known to frequent. They are formed of lath or thinly split sticks, somewhat in the shape of an obtuse cone, laced together with cord, having a small hole at the top with a sliding lid to take out the game by. This is supported by the common figure 4 trigger, and grain is scattered below and leading to the place. By this contrivance ten or fifteen have sometimes been taken at a time. These are some- times brought alive to market, and occasionally bought up by sportsmen, who, if the season be very severe, sometimes pre- serve and feed them till Spring, when they are humanely turned out to their native fields again, to be put to death son>e future time secundum artcm. Between the months of August and March great numbers of these birds are brought to the market of Philadelphia, where they are sold at from twelve to eighteen cents a piece. " The Quail begins to build early in May. The nest is made on the ground, usually at the bottom of a thick tuft of grass that shelters and conceals it. The materials are leaves and fine dry grass, in considerable quantity. It is well covered above, and an opening left on one side for entrance. The female lays from fifteen to twenty-four eggs, of a pure white, without any spots. The time of incubation has been stated to me by various per- i »i UPLAND SHOOTING. 8b sons at four weeks, when the eggs were placed uiuler the domestic lien. The young leave the nest as soon as they are freed from the shell, and are conducted about in search of food by tiie female ; are guided by her voice, ^^ hich, at that time, resembles the twittering of young chickens, and sheltered by her wings in the same manner as the domestic fowl, but with all that secrecy and precaution for tiieir safety which their helplessness and greater danger reiuire. In this situation, should the little timid family be unexpectedly sur[)rised, the utmost alarm and consternation prevails. The mother throws herself in the path, iluttering along and beating the ground with her wings, as if sorely wounded, using every artifice she is master of to entice the passenger in pursuit of herself, uttering at the same time certain peculiar notes of alarm, well understood hy the young, who dive separately amongst the grass, and secrete themselves until the danger is over, and the parent, having decoyed the pursuer to a safe distance, returns by a. circuitous route to collect and lead them off. This well known nianceuvre, which nine times in ten is successful, is honorable to the feel- ings and judgment of the bird, but a severe satire on man. The alTectionate mother, as if sensible of the avaricious cruelty of his nature, tempts him with a larger prize to save her more helpless offspring, and pays him as avarice and cruelty ought always to be paid, witli mortification and disappointment. " The eggs of the Quaii have been frequently placed uiuler the domestic Hen, and hatched and reared with equal success as her own, though gene.-ally speaking, the young Partridges, being more restless and vagrant, often lose themselves and disappear. The lien ought to be a particular good nurse, not at all disposed to ramble, in which case they are very easily raised. Those that survive acipiire all the familiarity of com- mon Chickens, and there is little doubt that if proper measures were taken and persevered in for a few years, they might be completely domesticated. They have been often kept during the first season and through the whole of that winter, but have uniformly deserted in the spring. Two young Partridges that I; IB ■I II 84 FRANK FORESTKU'S FIELU Si'OUTS. • ! J were brought up by a Hen, wlieii abandoned by her, associuted with the cows, which they regularly followed to the fields, returned with them when they came home in the evening, st.)()d by them while they ware milked and again accompanied them to the pasture. These remained during the winter, lodg- ing in the stable, but as soon as spring came they disappeared. Of this fact I was informed by a very respectable lady, by whom they were particularly observed. It has been frequently asserted to me that the Quails lay in each others nests. Though I have never myself seen a case of this kiiid, I do not think it altogether improbable, from the fact that ihey have often been known to drop their eggs in the nest of the common Hen, when that happened to be in the fields or at a small dis- tance from the house. The two Partridges above mentioned were raised in this manner, and it was particularly remarked by the lady who gave me the information, that the Hen sat for several days after her own eggs weio hatched, until the young Quails made their appearance. Thi! Partridge, on her part, has sometimes been employed to hatch the eggs of the common domestic Hen. A friend of mine, who himself made the experi- ment, informs me that of several Hen's eggs which he substi- tuted in place of those of the Partridge, she brought out the whole, and that for several weeks he occasionally surprised her in various parts of the plantation, with her brood of Chickens, on which occasions she exhibited all that distressful alarm, and practised her usual manceuvres for their preservation. Even after they were considerably grown, and larger than the Part- ridge herself, she continued to lead them about ; but though the notes or call were those of common Chickens, their manners had all the shyness, timidity, and alarm of young Partridges, running with great rapidity, and squatting in the grass exactly in the manner of the Partridge. Soon after this they disap- peared, having probably been destroyed by dogs, by the gun, or by birds of prey. Whether the domestic fowl might not by this method be very soon brought back to its original savage state, and thereby supply another additional subject for the amusement UPLAND SHOOTING. 86 of the dporhjinun, will scarcely admit of doubt ; but tlie experi- ment, in order to secure its success, would reijuire to be made in a quarter of the country less exi)osed than ours to the ravages of guns, dogs, traps, and the deep snows of winter, that the new tribe might have full time to become completely natu- rali/e(' and well fixed in all their native habits. About the beginning of September, the Quail being now nearly full grown and associated in flocks or coveys of from four or five to thirty, afford considerable sport to the gunner. At this time the notes of the male are most frequent, clear, and loud. Ilis connnon call consists of two notes, with sometimes an introductory one, and is similar to the sound produced by pronouncing the words Bob White. This call may bo easily mistaken by whistling, so as to deceive the bird itself, and bring it near. VVhile uttering this he is usually perched on a rail of the fence, or a low limb of an apple tree, where he will sometimes sit repeating, at short intervals. Bob White, for half an hour at a time. When a covey are assembled in a thicket, or corner of a field, and about to take wing, they make a low, twittering sound, not unlike that of young Chickens ; and when the covey is dis- persed they are called together by a loud and frequently repeated note, peculiarly expressive of tenderness and anxiety. The food of the Partridge consists of grain, seeds, insects, and berries of various kinds. Buckwheat and Indian Corn are particular favorites. In September and October the Buckwheat fields afford them an abundant supply as well as a secure shelter. They usually roost at night in the middle of a field, on high ground, and from the circumstance of the dung being found in such places in one round heap, it is generally con- jectured that they roost in a circle with their heads outward ; each individual in this position forming a kind of guard to pre- vent surprise. They also continue to lodge for several nights in the same spot. The Partridge, like all the rest of the galli- naceous order, flies with a loud, whirring sound, occasioned by the shortness, concavity, and rapid motion of its wings, and the comparative weight of its body. The steadiness of its ',ni' I .iriii 1 i! . fi ! J 'r-'h 80 FRANK- FOnESTKH 9 FIELD SPORTS. horizontal (\\'^\\t, liowovcr, rciulers it no dillicult nmrk to tho sportsman, particularly when assisted hy his saj^acious pointer. The ilesh of this hird is peculiarly white, temler and delicate, and uno [uailed hy that of any other of its jrenus in the United .States. The;e is only one species of Quail at present known williin the United States." — ]r//awn's Am. Ornitholutjy. THE WOODCOCK. Scolnpnx Minor. — La litcasse iVAiiwriqnc — Brissot. The Mud- Snipc, Blind Snipe, Jiiy-heddcd Snipe, Boy- Sucker. "Male, 11.16. Female, 11,1.17|. " Distrihuted throu;^Iiout the country, extremely abundant ia the Middle and Kastern Districts, as well as in the interior, where it lueeds as far as Nova Scotia. Ecjually abundant in winter, in the Southern States, though many migrate Southward. " Adult Male. " Bill double the length of the head, straight, slender, taper- ing, sub-trigonal, and deeper than broad at the base, slightly depressed toward the end. Upper mandible, with the dorsal line straight ; the ridge narrow, toward the end flattened ; the sides nearly erect, sloping outward toward the soft, obtuse edges ; the tip blunt, knob-like, and longer than that of the lower mandible. Nostrils basal, lateral, lineal, very small. Lower mandible broader than the upper ; the angle very long and narrow, the dorsal line straight, the back broadly rounded, the sides marked with a deep groove, sk)j)ing inward at the base, outward toward the end, the edges soft and obtuse, the tip rounded. " Head rather large, oljlong, narrowed anteriorly ; eyes large, and placed high. Neck short and thick. Body rather full. Feet rather short ; tibia feathered to the joint ; tarsus rather short, compressed., covered in front by numerous scutella ; on the sides and behind with sub-hexagonal scales, and having a row of small scutelliform scales along the outer side behind. Toe-j free, slender, the first verv small, the second slightly UPLAND 8H00TIN0. S7 ll Hi shorter thiin the fourtli, the third much h)nj^Oi" and exceeding the tiirsus in length ; all scutolhite uhuve, niirginato, Ihittish, benc.ith. Chiws very small, arched, acute, that of the hind toe extremely small, of middle toe with u thin inner eilgo. '* Plumage very soft, elastic, blended ; of the fore-part of the head very short ; of the neck full. Wings short, rounde middle toe, 1 ,-3, its claw, I ; weight, 64OZ. " Aiult Female. " The female, which is considerably larger, has the same co- lors as the male. " Length to end of tail, 1 ifa ; to end of wings, IOt^ ; to end of claws, IStt; wing, from flexure, SxV; tail, 2r2 ; bill along the ridge, 2\^ ; along the edge of lower mandible, 2^J ; tarsus, Ifr. ; middle toe, 1/2; its claw, i ; weight, S^oz. " Fledged young. " When fully fledged, similar to the old birds." — Audubon's Birds of America. " This bird is universally known to our sportsmen. It arrives in Pennsylvania early in March — sometimes sooner — and, I doubt not, in mild winters, some few remain with us the whole of that season. " During the day they keep to the woods and thickets, and at the approach of evening seek the high and open country places to feed in. They soon disperse themselves over the country to breed. About the beginning of July, particularly in long-conti- nued hot weather, they descend to the marshy shores of our large rivers, their favorite springs and watery recesses inland being chiefly dried up. To the former of these retreats they are pursued by the merciless sportsman, flushed by dogs, and shot down in great numbers. This species of amusement, when eagerly followed, is still more laborious than Snipe-shooting ; and, from the nature of the ground, or " cripple," as it is usually called — viz., deep mud intersected with old logs, which are co- vered and hid from sight by high reeds, weeds, and alder bushes — the best dogs are soon tired out, and it is customary with sportsmen who regularly pursue this diversion, to have two sets of dogs to relieve each other alternately. " The Woodcock usually begins to lay in April. The nest is placed on the ground, in a retired part of the woods, frequently at the root of an old stump. It is formed of a few withered I UPLAND SHOOTING. 89 ed leaves and stalks of grass, laid with very little rt. The female lays four, sometimes five eggs, about an inch and a half long, and an inch, or rather more, in diameter, tapering suddenly to the small end. These are of a dull clay color, marked with spots of brown, particularly at the great end, and interspersed with others of a very pale purple. The nest of the Woodcock has, in several instances that have come to my knowledge, been found with eggs in P"'ebruary, but its usual time of beginning to lay is in April. In July, August and September, they are con- sidered in good order for shooting. The Woodcock is properly a nocturnal bird, feeding chielly at night, and seldom stirring about till after sunset. At such times, as well as in the early part of the morning, particularly in the spring, he rises by a kind of spiral course, to a considerable height in the air, uttering at times a sudden quack, till having gained his utmost height, he hovers around in a wild and irregular manner, making a sort of murmuring sound, then descends with rapidity, as he rose. When uttering his common note on the ground, he seems to do it with difficulty, throwing his head toward the earth, and frequently jet- ting up his tail. These notes and manujuvres are most usual in the spring, and are the call of the male to his favorite female. Their food consists of various larvie and other aquatic worms, for which, during the evening, they are almost continually turning over the leaves with their bills, or searching in the bogs. Their flesh is reckoned delicious, and prized highly. They remain with us till late in the autumn, and, on the falling of the first snows, descend from the ranges of the Alleghany to the lower parts of the country, in great numbers — soon after which, viz., in November, they move off to the South. This bird, in its gene- ral figure and manners, very greatly resemble the Woodcock of Europe ; but is considerably less, and differently marked below, being an entirely distinct species. A few traits will clearly point out these differences. The lower parts of the European Wood- cock are thickly barred with dusky-waved lines on a yellowish- white ground. The present species has those parts of a bright ferruginous. The male, of the American species, weighs from MB 90 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. five to six ounces, the female eight ; the European twelve. The European Woodcock makes his first appearance in Britain in October and November, that country being, in fact, only its winter quarters ; for, early in March, they move off" to the northern parts of the continent to breed. The American spe- cies, on the contrary, winters in countries south of the United States, arrives here early in March, extends its migration as far at least as the river St. Lawrence — breeds in all the intermediate places, and retires again to the South on the approach of winter. The one migrates from the torrid to the temperate regions — the other from the temperate to the Arctic. The two birds, there- fore, notwithstanding their names are the same, differ not only in size and markings, but also in native climate. Hence the ab- surdity of those who would persuade us that the Woodcock of America crosses the Atlantic to Europe, and vice versa. These observations have been thought necessary, from the respectability of some of our own writers, who seem to have adopted this opi- nion. How far to the North our Woodcock is found, I am un- able to say. It is not mentioned as a bird of Hudson's Bay, and being altogether unknown in the Northern parts of Europe, it is very probable that its migrations do not extend to a very high latitude ; for it may be laid down as a general rule, that those birds which migrate to the Arctic regions, in either continent, are very often common to both. The head of the Woodcock is of singular conformation — large, somewhat triangular, and the eye fixed at a remarkable distance from the bill, and high in the head. This construction was necessary to give a greater range of vision, and to secure the eye from injury while the owner is searching in the mire. The flight of the Woodcock is slow. When flushed at any ti"ie in the woods, he rises to the heiglit of the bushes or underwood, and almost instantly drops behind them again at a short distance, generally running ofl" for several yards as soon as he touches the ground. The notion that there are two species of Woodcock in this country, probably originated from the great difference of size between the male and female — the latter being considerably the larger. When taken, they ut- It i 1.: i i) '. ''l ', :ii'i.il f r, sk'.l.l. ■1! .'• -■|;.M •;•>;;. ' :.;.l 'I'll MiVl il. I'-l 1. ^'-^ I ■;i"! MM ii)iiui; li:v \V l;,.-l Sjll'.i'f .1'. Uli.' ' .(^'li Ml ''if} 111 1. ' »■ I r< ■. ■ , Wil;! lih. lu ■miiu>">-' •:■ )^.ln•■y.^■i:'.-'':i I.! !■ c:,.!';- ,>; '1 UP •rii ; tiiNl, -!V»uU i .:ler. bui . .iii.MiU-rp'-iy '"v^'.y t\r ■ S ,'.r lir^l, I' Mi'iMue/- ■■ -.iipri''-:: 'i.aii;ii? vers i;l,:.! Ill \sm n ' M ■I < \ UPLAND SHOOTING. 91 .til' ii long, clear, but feeble peep^ not louder than that of a mouse. They are far inferior to young partridges, in running and skulking, and, should the female be unfortunately killed, may be e:isily taken on the spot." — Wilson's Am. Ornithology. P COMMON SNIPE. Scolopax Wllsonii. — 77te English Snipe. "Male 10^.17. " Distributed throughout the country. Breeds from Vir- ginia northward. Exceedingly abundant in the Southern and Western districts during winter. " Adult male. " Bill twice as long as the head, subulate, straight, depressed toward the end, compressed for more than half its length. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight ; the ridge, for a short space at the base, llattish, then convex ; towards the end flattened ; the sides with a narrow groove extending to near the tip, which is obtuse and probe-like ; the edges soft and obtuse. Nostrils basal, linear, very small. Lower man- dible with the angle extremely narrow and long, the sides nearly erect, with a groove having several bars across it ; the end of both mandibles covered, after death, with numerous prominences, or rather with reticular depressions, leaving small prominences between them. " Head rather small, oblong, narrowed anteriorly, the fore- head elevated and rounded. Neck rather short. Body rather full. Legs of moderate length, slender ; tibia bare below, scutellate before and behind ; tarsus with numerous scutella before, smaller ones behind, and reticulated sides ; toes very slender, free, scutellate above, narrow and slightly margined beneath ; first very small, third longer than the tarsus ; fourth much shorter, but considerably longer than the second. Claws slightly arched, extremely compressed, very acute, that of the third toe longest. " Plumage very soft, rather full, blended ; on the forepart ■B I ! i it i < 1 ! ['I ' H 11 83 FRANK FORESTEU'S FIELD SPORTS. of the head very short. Wings of moderate length, narrow sharp; primaries broad, tapering, but rounded, the first ex tremely small and pointed, tiie second longest, the third very little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated ; secondaries broad, short, incurved, rounded, the inner very long, tapeiing, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounded, of sixteen rounded feathers. " Bill brown, the granulated part toward the tip black. Iris hazel. Feet bluish gray, claws dusky. On the upper part of the head two brownish-black longitudinal hands, sepa- rated by a narrower central pale brown one, and with another pale brown band on each side from the bill over the eye. Then a loral band of dark brown ; chin whitish ; neck pale reddish- brown, spotted with brownish-black. The general color of upper parts is brownish-black, variegated with pale reddish- brown, of which latter color are the outer edges of the scapu- lars and of the lateral feathers on the anterior part of the back. Wing-coverts, and inner secondaries, similarly mottled ; the small anterior coverts, the primary coverts, primary quills, and outer secondaries, deep brown more or less tipped with white ; rump barred with yellowish-gray and dusky ; upper tail coverts similar, but the larger barred with brownish-red and black. Tail feathers brownish-black at the base, with a broad sub- terminal band of brownish-red on the outer web of the two middle, and on both webs of the rest, excepting the outer on each side, which is barred with brownish-black and white, the black bars five ; the tips of all white. Anterior part of breast like the neck, the rest white ; abdomen and lower tail coverts grayish-yellow, barred with brownish-black ; lower wing co- verts similarly mottled. " Length to end of tail, lOi inches ; to end of claws, 11! • extent of wings, 17 ; wing, from flexure, 5 ; tail, 2} ; bill along the back, 2f\ ; along the edge of the lower mandible, 27*2 ; tar- sus, Ifa ; middle toe, 1\ ; its claw, -if ; weight 3oz. " Adult female. "The female resembles the male, but is rather larger." Audubon's Birds of America. UPLAND SHOOTING. 93 " This bird is well known to our sportsmen, and if not the same, has a very near resemblance to the common Snipe of Europe. It is usually known by the name of the English Snipe, to distinguish it from the Woodcock, and from several others of the same genus. " It arrives in Pennsylvania about the 10th of March, and remains in the low grounds for several weeks, the greater part then move off to the north and to the higher inland districts, to breed. A few are occasionally found and consequently breed in our low marshes during the summer. When they first arrive they are usually lean, but when in good order are accounted excellent eating. They are perhaps the most diffi- cult to shoot of all our birds, as they ily in sudden zigzag lines, and very rapidly. Great numbers of these birds winter on the rice grounds of the Southern States, where, in the month of February, they appeared to be much tamer than they usually are here, as I have frequently observed them running about among the springs and watery thickets. I was told by the inhabitants that they generally disappeared in the spring. On the 20th of March I found these birds extremely numerous on the bor- ders of the ponds near Louisville, Ky., and also in the neigh- borhood of Lexington, in the same State, as late as the 10th of April. I was told by several people that they are abundant in the Illinois country up as far as Lake Michigan. They are but seldom seen in Pennsylvania during the summer, but are occasionally met with in considerable numbers, on their return in autumn, along the whole east side of the Alleghany, from the sea to the mountains. They have the same soaring, irregular flight in the air, in gloomy weather, as the Snipe of Europe ; the same bleating note, and occasional rapid descent, spring from the marshes with the like feeble squeak, and in every respect resemble the common Snipe of Great Britain, except in being about an inch less, and in having sixteen fea- thers in the tail instead of fourteen, the number said by Bewick to be in that of Europe. From these circumstances we must either conclude this to be a different species, or partially I'll I Ml i ' Ml I' n h t).J riJAMC n»ui;.>Ti:u s iiKi.n spoiiis. ii: i i changcil liy diilerciu'c of cliiniilo ; the former appears to nic the most prohalile o[)inioii of tlio two. " These Itirils abouiul in llie meadows and low grounds aloii" our large rivers, particularly those tiiat horder the Scluiylkill and Delaware, from the 10th of Mart-h to the middle of April, and sometiiuos later, and are eagerly souglit after by our gunners. The nature of tlie grounds, however, which these birds fre- (pu- 1'., the coldness of the season, and peculiar shyness and agility of the game, renders this amusement attractive only to the most dexterous, active, and eager of our sportsmen." — Wilson's Am. Oniithohyy. The last of what may bo called the purely Upland game birds of North America, is that commonly known as the Up- land Plover, also called the Frost Bird and Grass Plover, from the places which it frequents, and the periods at which it is found in perfection. It is, in my opinion, with no exception, unless perhaps it be the Canvass Back Duck, the most delicious bird that flies. Though generally known as a Plover, it does not belong to that species, but to that of 7htanus, Tatler, a sort of connecting link between the Snipes and Sandpipers — the Plover proper having no hind toe. This is the only one of the three families above named that is, in the United States, a land bird, its habits being those of the European Golden Plover, the American namesake of which is essentially a shore bird. The Upland Sandpiper, or Tatler, is thus described by Mr. Audubon : BARTRAM'S TATLER. Totanus Bartramius — Upland Plover, Upland Sandpiper, Frost bird, Grass Plover. " Male, 12i.22. Female, 13.22J. " From Texas along the coast to Nova Scotia. Breeds fronj Maryland northward to the Saskatchewan. In vast flocks in Louisiana, Oppelousas, and the Western Prairies, in '•'itumn and spring. Rare in Kentucky. UPLAND SIIOOTINQ. 00 " Adult Mule. "Bill a little longer tl>an the head, sleiulor, straight, slightly deflected at the end. Uppei inaiidihle willi the dorsal line straight, the edges convex, the sides grooved beyond the middle, afterward convex, the edges inflected, the tips a little deflected, and tapering to an ohtuse point. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, linear, pervious, nearer the edge than the dorsal line. Lower mandible with the angle very narrow and elongated, beyond it the outline slightly convex, the sides sloping outward and con- cave until the middle, afterward flattened, the edges sharj), the point very narrow. " Head railier small, convex above, compressed. Neck of moderate length, slender. Body rather slender. Feet long and slender, tibia bare about half its length, scutellate before and behind ; tarsus long, slender, having before and behind numerous scutella ; the narrow lateral spaces with very small, oblong scales. Toes slender ; the first very short, the second much shorter than the fourth, the third and fourth connected at the base by a web ; the scutella numerous ; claws small, compressed, slightly arched, rather blunt. " Plumage soft ; on the neck and lower parts blended ; on the upper rather distinct. Wings rather long, acute, narrow. Pri- maries tapering and rounded ; the first longest, the second a little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated ; secondari es obliquely round- ed, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail of moderate length, much rounded, of twelve rather narrow feathers. " Bill yellowish-green, tip dusky, the edges toward the base yellow. Iris dark hazel. Legs and tarsi light yellowish-gray, toes rather darker, claws brownish-black. Upper part of the head dark brown, with a median pale yellowish hrown line ; the margins of the feathers also of that color which prevails along the sides of the head and the back of the neck, which are streaked with dusky ; the eye surrounded with yellowish-white. Throat yellowish-white, without spots ; forepart and sides of the neck, with a portion of the breast and sides of the hody, cream- colored, with dusky lines, which gradually become arrow-shaped VOL. I. Q \M v> I II ^1 p' 96 PttANK FORESTER S FIELD SI'ORTS. on the l)roiist, fortiiiii;^ a doiililc trniisvcrse bimtl ; tlio fciithors on tlic side liiiiicd ; the rest of the lower parts and lower winjj coverts white, handed with brownish-black. On tiie upper parts the leathers are dark brown, glossed with green, with rich creain-colorcil margins ; the rump darker. On the margins of thn scapulars, within the pale edge, is a series of dusky spots which, toward the end, become continuous. Alula, jirimary coverts, and primary quills blackish-brown, the inner webs crossed by white bands, until about an inch from the end ; the shaft of the first .luill white, those of the rest dusky. Secon- daries grayish-brown, their outer margins pale iirown with dusky spots ; the inner darker. The two middle feathers of the (ail are dark olive, tinged with gray, transversely barred with black, the last bar arrow-shaped, the margins light cream-color, the next feather on each side lighter, and tinged with yellowish- red ; the rest gradually lighter, the outer white, all barred with black. " Length to the end of tail, 121 inches; to the end of wings, II i ; to the end of the claws, 13.j ; extent of wings, 22 ; wing from flexure, 7; tail, 3j ; base part of tibia, VV ; tarsus, l^j ; first toe, tV ; claw, o\ ; bill along the ridge, Ij'a ; along the edge of lower mandible, li'j ; weight, 6oz. " Female. " The female is a little larger, and weighs 7oz., but resem- bles the male in color. The individual of which the weight is here given, was very fat ; but I have never met with any that weighe I three-fourths of a pound, as described by Wilson. " The Bartramian Sandpiper is the most truly terrestrial of its tribe with which I am acquainted. It is even more inclined at all seasons to keep away from water than the Kildeer Plo- ver, which may often be seen along the sandy or muddy mar- gin of the shores of the sea, or of fresh-water lakes and streams. Although not unfrequently met with in the vicinity of such places, it never ventures to wade into them ; and yet the form and length of its legs and feet, would naturally induce a person not acquainted with its habits, to consider it as a wading-bird. I I! I i'\,>i UPLAND SlUK) lN(i. 97 " The dry, upliind plains (if those sections of Louisiana, call- ed Oppclousns und Attiikiipas, arc amjdy peopleil with this spe- cies einly in spring, as well as in autiinin. They arrive there from the vast prairies of Texas ami Mexico, where they spend the winter, in the iieginning of .March or ahout the lirst appear- ance of the Martins — irinindo I'lirpiircd — and return aliout tiio (irst of August. They are equally ahundant on all the Western Prairies on either side of the Missouri, where, however, they arrive ahout a month later than in Louisiana, whence they dis- perse over the United States, reaching the Middle Districts early in May, and the State of Maine hy the middle of that month, or alfout the same period at which they are seen in Indiana, Ken- tucky and Ohio. Some proceed as far north as the plains ad- joining the Saskatchewan River, where Dr. Richardson met with this species in May. " It has heen supposed that the Bartramian Sandpiper never forms large flocks ; but this is not correct — for in the neighhor- hood of New Orleans, where it is calltnl the * Papahote,' it usually arrives, in great hands, in sprini», and is met with on the open plains and large grassy savannahs, Avherc it generally re- mains about two weeks, — though snmetimes individuals may be seen as late as the 15th of May. I have observed the same cir- cumstance on our Western Prairies, but have thought that they were afterward obliged to se|)arate into small flocks, or even into pairs, as soon as they are ready to seek proper places for breeding in ; for I have >>cldom found more than two pairs with nests or young in the same field or piece of ground. On their first arrival, they are generally thin, but on their return south- ward, in the beginniini; of August, when they tarry in Louisiana until the first of October, they are fat and juicy. I have observed that, in spring, w hen they are poor, thoy are usually much less shy than in autumn, when they are exceedingly wary and difii- cult of approach ; but this general observation is not without exceptions, and the diflerence, I think, depends on the nature of the localities in u hich they happen to be found at either period. When on new t>»- -ploughed fields, which they are fond of fre- i 111 r li \ m rf-s !■■ i ■■\'< I 98 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. quenting, they see a person at a greater distance than wh( ti they are searching for food among the slender grasses of the plains. I have also thought that the size of the flocks may depend upon similar contingencies ; for this bird is by no means fond of the society of man. " Like the Spotted Sandpiper — Tolanus Macularius — they not unfrequently alight on fences, trees and out-houses ; but, whe- ther in such situations or on the ground, they seldom settle without raising both wings upright to their full extent, and ut- tering their loud, prolonged and pleasing notes They run with great activity, stop suddenly, and vibrate their body once or twice. " When earnestly followed by the sportsman, they lower their neads in the manner of Wilson's Plover, and the species called the Piping, and run off" rapidly, or squat, according to the urg- ency of the occasion. At other times, they partially extend their wings, run a few steps as if about to fly, and then cun- ningly move off" sideways, and conceal themselves among the grass, or behind a clod. You are unfrequently rendered aware of your being near them by unexpectedly hearing their plain- tive and mellow notes, a circumstance, however, which I always concluded to be indicative of the wariness of their dis- position ; for, although you have just heard those well-known cries, yet, on searching for the bird itself, you nowhere see it — for the cunning creature has slipped away and hid itself. When wounded in the wing, they run to a great distance, and are rarely found. " Like all experienced travellers, they appear to accommo- date themselves to circumstances, as regards their food — for in Louisiana they feed on cantharides and other coleopterous insects ; in Massachusetts on grasshoppers, on which my friend Nut- tall says they soon grow fat ; in the Carolinas on crickets and other insects, as well as the seeds of the crab-grass — Digi- taria Sanguinaria — and in the Barrens of Kentucky they often pick the strawberries. Those which feed much on cantharidys require to be very carefully cleaned, otherwise persons eating ( !: UPLAND SHOOTING. 99 .s n them are liable to suffer severely Several gentlemen of New Orleans have assured me that they have seen persons at dinner obliged to leave the room at once, under such circumstances as cannot well be described here. When flavored with the ripe strawberries on which they have fed, their flesh is truly deli- cious. " This species performs its migrations by night as well as by day. Its flight is rather swift, and well sustained. While tra- velling, it generally flies so high as to be beyond the reach of the gun ; but, if the weather be cloudy, or if it blow hard, it flies lower, and may be easily shot. It generally proceeds in straggling bands, and moves along with continuous easy beats of its wings, but sails as it were, when about to alight, as well as during the love season. " As long ago as 1805 and 1806, I observed this species breeding in the meadows and green fields of my plantation of Millgrove, near the banks of the Perkioming Creek. Since then, I have known of its rearing broods in difierent parts of Pennsylvania, in the State of New York, and in various dis- tricts to the Eastward, as far as the confines of Maine ; but I did not find it in Newfoundland or Labrador ; and I have reason to believe that it does not breed to the south of Maryland. " I have found the eggs of this bird laid on the bare earth, in a hollow, scooped out to the depth of about an inch and a half, near the roots of a tuft of rank grass, in the middle of a mea- dow ; and' have seen some nests of the same species formed of loosely-arranged grasses, and placed almost beneath low bushes, growing on poor, elevated ridges, furnished with a scanty vege- tation. When disturbed while on its nest, but unobserved, it runs thirty or forty yards, and then flies off", as if severely wounded. Should it have young, its attempts to decoy you away are quite enough to induce you to desist from distressing it. The eggs measure an inch and five and a-half eighths by an inch and a quarter in their greatest breadth. In form they re- semble those of the Totaniis Maculariiis, being broadly rounded ut one end and rather pointed at the other ; their surface sinooth, m iif i 100 KKANK FOUESTEK's FIELD SPOKTS. ' I their ground color dull gvayish-yellow, with numerous spots of hght purple and reddish-brown. They are placed in the nest in the same manner as those of the Spotted Sandpiper ; that is, with the smaller ends together ; which is also the case with those of the Telltale Godwit, Wilson's Plover, and the Kildeer Plo- ver."— Auduhoii's Birds of America. From these seven species, constituting the Upland Game Birds, proper, of the United States — for reasons which have been stated above, 1 prefer to consider the Wild Turkey under the head of Western Sporting — 1 come to the two varieties of Hare — Pseudo Rabbit, and White Rabbit ; the true genera and distinctive marks of which are subjoined. THE AMERICAN HARE. Lepus Americanus. Lepus Virginianus. I have already mentioned, that there is no variety of Rabbit found on this continent ; although, from the smaller size, the lighter and grayer color of its fur, and its general resemblance to the wild Rabbit of Europe, the smaller species — Lepus Ame- ricanus— which is found in almost every part of the United States and Canada, is invariably termed, and very generally be- lieved to be a Rabbit. This misnomer is not, like the calling Grouse " Pheasant, and Partridge," a mere error in nomenclature, used by persons who are well aware of the distinction, and sometimes adopt the false instead of the true name, as it were compulsorily, and in order to make themselves understood by the ignorant — as I have found myself obliged to term Woodcock Blind Snipe, in conver- sation with country people — but is an absolute mistake, Avhich is held by many sportsmen, who will not be convinced of the contrary. Sportsmen are, indeed, but too apt to undervalue, and even ridicule, the minute distinctions of the naturalist ; not understand- ing how so small differences as are in some questions alone do- UPLAND SHOOTING. 101 O le in •e r- :h \e en d- above eighteen not weigh above two cisive of species and genera, can be of the weight ascribed to them ; and will persist, even after they are informed to the con- trary, in supporting their own opinion against the definitions of science ; which is, in fact, not one whit less ridiculous than it were for any one to dispute with the philosojAer the earth's roundness, or the sun's volume, because his eyes cannot discern all that is taught by science. The European Hare, it is well known, is more than double the size and weight of the American variety ; weighing, when full grown, from six to eight pounds ; and measuring two feet in length — while the American congener is not inches long, at the utmost, and does pounds. It is natural enough, therefore, that the European sportsman should be inclined to doubt the fact, associating his ideas of the animal with the large kind which he has hunted or shot at home, when he is told that the little grayish creature, which so very closely resembles the Rabbit of his country in size, is not a Rabbit but a Hare. In many points, moreover, connected with his haunts, habits and history, the small Hare of America resembles the Rabbit of the eastern continent ; although in others more marked, and, in- indeed, positively decisive of his species, the two arimals differ entirely. The points of similarity lie in this, that the smaller American Hare, like the Rabbit of Europe, loves craggy and inaccessible wooded hill-sides ; and, when hard pressed by dogs, will betake itself to holes and clefts in the rock ; and that he has the same skulking habit, and much the same motion. The great difference is, that he never dwells in vast congrega tions, or warrens, and never burrows in the earth for his habi- tual dwelling-place. This point, with some others, of structure and breeding, is decisive against his being a Rabbit. " The American Hake — Lepua Americanus — vulg. The Rabbit. "Length, from nose to tip of hind claws, 16 inches; length « i: i I 102 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. of hind legs, lOjV; of head, 3^"^ i of ears, 3^\ ; of tail, 2^%; weight, 3 to 4lbs. " Ears shorter than the head. Forehead convex. Claws sharp-pointed, and nearly straight. Upper anterior innsors white, with a deep, longitudinal groover near their inner mar- gin ; the small incisors behind short, oppressed to the anterior incisors, and inserted into the upper maxillary. First molar above simple, recurved ; the four succeediiig larger, and of nearly equal size, composed of double folds of enamel ; the last simple, cylindrical, directed forward, and scarcely attaining the length of its predecessors. Beneath, the incisors are smooth, in front long and subquadrate. The first molar inclined backward, grooved before, and with a double groove on the outer surface ; the succeeding ones to the last upright, nearly equal, with a sin- gle groove and two prominent ridges on their external surfaces ; the last smallest, inclined forward, with a slight groove on the external surface, and the tip exhibits a double case of enamel. " Color. — In summer the general color is yellowish-brown, which becomes more or less rufous on the outer surface of the extremities and on the breast. Margin of the eyes blackish- brown, and outside of this a circle of yellowish-white. Throat and under side of the tail white. Abdomen grayish-white. Ears edged with white and tipped with brown. Fur plumbeous, lead-colored at the base, and for much of its length. In winter the fur becomes longer, and the upper surface of the head and body lighter, occasionally iron-gray ; but I have never seen it as white as is stated by Godman. There may, however, be white varieties ; but it cannot be said to have two distinct coats of fur. " The most remarkable distinctions of this species, by which it is discernible alike from the Rabbit and the common Hare of America, are as follows : — Tst. His size, which is much inferior to that of the common or variable Hare, and little superior to that of the common wild Rabbit of Europe ; whence he is frequently confounded with the Rabbit. 2d. The proportion of his legs ; the hind legs being longer, the fore legs shorter than those of the larger Hares. 3d. The color and length of the ears, which UPLAND SHOOTING, 103 hiivo a black margin at the outside, and no black mark at the tip, and are also shorter than those of the common Hare. 4th, The upper side of the tail is less black. 5th. The body is grayer than that of the other species of Hare. 6th. Its habits, which are purely those of a Hare, as distinct from those of the Rabbit. " Unlike its congener, the Northern or Varying Hare, it does not confine itself to the woods, but is frequently found in open fields, or where there is a slight copse or underbrush. It never burrows, like its closely-allied species, the European Rabbit, but makes its form, which is a slight depression in the ground, shel- tered by some low shrub. It frequently resorts to a stone wall, a heap of stones, or a hollow tree, and sometimes to the burrow of some other animal. Its food consists of bark, buds, grass, wild berries, &c. Its habits are nocturnal. It breeds three times in the season, producing from four to six at a birth. It has not a wide geographical range, being found from New Hampshire to Florida. Its western limits are not yet ascer- tained."—DeAa^'s Nat. Hist. o/N. York, &c. In addition to this, I think it well to observe, that this is a solitary animal, not gregarious and congregating in large com- panies, and not breeding monthly, like the European Rabbit ; ff.id that, so far as my own observation goes, it does not change its color in winter. Dr. Dekay evidently leans to this latter opinion, in spite of other authorities, who have evidently con- founded this with the following species : THE NORTHERN HARE. Varying Hare — Lepus Virginianus. — Vulgo, White Rabbit. " Length of head and body, 20-25 inches ; of the hind legs, lly-a ; of fore legs, 6/2 ; of the head, Sy'k; of the ears, 3,-V ; of the tail, Ifl-; weight, 6Uhs. " Head short ; nose blunt ; eyes large and prominent ; ears broad and approximated ; upper anterior incisors long and slen- jibe od^e' soft ai>d tlin, the niarjfinal lamella', about forty on i. .'.Ii sido. I'lif) nnj^i i: ol.o' atss, curved, abrupt at the end. iNusai {.^ro.ivo sun-ba;:il. o'l'iilical, fdled with the soft nieitdririo i.f the !>iil , nostrils sub-har-a;. placed near the ridj^e, l(/iij.^iiudinal, elliptica., jiorvions Low ;;• mandible slij^htly curved upwiivd, llaltci'ii, •.•>ith ihv; uvrw voi\/ long, narrow, and rather pointind j tlm hiiiu'll' a'.iuut flwy. " Head of moderate size, oblcitr, jompcfsspd. Neck rali.tM long and slender. J3'Hly full, depiessoil. Feci diort, stuu', placed a little behind the centre of ihe 'tody. Le.;» ba'c a little above the joint. Tarsus short, ii little tooiprcssi^d, anteriorly with small scutclla, externally of which is i voiles coi;'iiiUoits with those of the outer toe, laterally imkI bcliiui! witn re'-u .'liUed angular scales, llind toe extremely sntall, wiih .i, vevy larro*. membrane ; third toe longest, fourth a little shorter, bin lon!;cr than the second ; the scutell." of !hn second and third o'.lii.ic, of the outer transverse ; the tlnco anterioi loes conncciod by reticulated membranes, the o\U0' v ith i lldck m^iigin, the inner with a margin extended intoas^'i^htly lobod veb. Claws small, arched, comprci^sed, rathpr obtuse, that of the middle toe much larger, with a dilatncl iMn etlge. " Plumage dense, nM, eiaslic ; on the neck and head the fea- thers linea oDlong, on the other parts, broad !-..iJ rounded. VV:n;js of moderate breadth and length, acute ; primaries narrow and tapering, the second longest, the first very little shorter ; secondaries broad, curved inward ; the inner elongated and taper- ing. Tail short, much rounded, of eighteen acute feathers, none of which are recurved. " Bill yelluwish-green, the unguis dusky. Iris dark brown. VOL.. 1. '1 I n I 1 M I 1 it si 112 FUANK forester's FIELD Sl'DRTS. i ■i ' Feet orange-red, the webs dusky. The upper part of the ho is gh)ssy brownish-hliick, the feathers margined with light brown ; the sides of the head and a band over the eye are liglit grayish-brown, with longitudinal dusky streaks ; the middle of the neck is similar, but more dusky. The general color is blackish-brown, a little paler beneath ; all the feathers margined with pale, reddish-brown. The wing coverts aregrayi.sh dusky, with a slight tinge of green ; the ends of the secondary coverts velvet-black. Primaries and their coverts blackish-brown, with the shafts brown ; secondaries darker ; the speculum is green, blue, violet, or amethyst-purple, according to the light in which it is viewed, bounded by velvet-black ; the feathers also tipjied with a narrow line of white. The whole under surface of the wing and the axillaries, white. " Length to the end of tail, 24^ inches ; to the end of claws, 20 ; extent of wings, SSj ; bill, 2,V along the back ; wing from flexure, llj; tail, 4^^ ; tarsus, l^J ; middle toe, 2,^5; first toe, ,V ; its claw, t'^ ; weight, 3lbs. " Adult female. " The female, which is somewhat smaller, resembles the male in color, but is more brown, and has the speculum of the same tints, but without the white terminal line. " Length to the end of tail, 22 inches ; to the end of wings, 21] ; to the end of claws, 22 ; wing from flexure, 10^ ; extent of wings, 34l ; tarsus, 2 ; middle toe and claw, 2h ; hind toe and claw, T2. " This species extends its migrations from the Straits of Belle- isle, on the coast of Labrador, to Texas. Strange as it may seem, it breeds in both of these countries, and in many of the intermediate places. On the 10th of May, 1833, I found it breeding along the marshy edges of the inland pools, near the Bay of Fundy ; and on Whitehead Island, in the same bay, saw several young birds of the same species, which, although appa- rently not a week old, Avere extremelj'^ active, both on land and water. On the 30th of April, 1837, my son discovered a nest on Galveston Island, in Texas. It was formed of grass and UPLAND SHOOTING. 113 feathers : the eggs, eight m number, lying on the former, sur- rounded with the down and some feathers of the bird to tho height of about three inches. The internal diameter of the nest was about six inches, and its walls were nearly three in thick- ness. The female was sitting, but flew off in silence as he ap- proached. The situation was a clump of tall, slender grass, on a rather sandy ridge, more than a hundred yards from the near- est Avater, but surrounded by partially dried salt marshes. On the same island, in the course of several successive days, we saw many of these Ducks, which, i)y their actions, showed that they also had nests. I may here state my belief, that the Gad- wall, Blue-winged Teal, Green-winged Teal, American Widgeon and Spoon-billed Duck, all breed in that country, as I observed them there late in May, when they we.e evidently paired. IIow far this fact may harmonize with the theories of writers respect- ing the migration of birds in general, is more than I can at pre- sent stop to consider. I have found the Black Ducks breeding on lakes near the Mississippi, as far up as to its confluence with the Ohio, as well as in Pennsylvania and New Jersey ; and every one acquainted with its habits will tell you that it rears its young in all the Eastern States intervening between that last mentioned and the St. Lawrence. It is even found on the Co- lumbia River, and on the streams of the Rocky Mountains ; but as Dr. Richardson has not mentioned his having observed it in Hudson's Bay, or farther north, we may suppose that it does not visit those countries. " As many of the nests found in Labrador differed from the one mentioned above, I will give you an account of them : — In several instances, we found them imbedded in the deep moss, at the distance of a few feet, or a few yards from the water ; they were composed of a great ([uantity of dry grass and other vege- table substances ; and the eggs were always placed directly on this bed, without the intervention of the down and feathers, which, however, surrounded them, and which, as I observed, the bird always uses to cover them, when she is about to leave them for a time. The eggs are two inches and a quarter in 114 FRAN'K forester's FIELD SPORTS. I length, one inch and five-eighths in breadth, shaped like those of a domestic fowl, with a sn)ooth surface, and of a uniform y«llowish-Avhite color, like tiiat of ivory tarnished by long ex- posure. The young, like those of the Mallard, acquire the full beauty of their spring plumage before the season of reproduction commences, but exhibit none of the curious changes which that species undergo. '' Although the Dusky Duck is often seen on salt water bays or inlets, it resembles the Mallard in its habits, being fond of swampy marshes, rice fields, and the shady margins of our riv- ers, during the whole of its stay in such portions of the Southern States as it is known to breed in. They are equally voracious, and may sometimes be seen with their crops so protruded as to destroy the natural elegance of their form. When on the water, they obtain their food by immersing their head and neck in the water, and, like the Mallard, sift the pr duce of muddy pools. Like that species also, they will descend in a spiral manner from on high, to alight under an oak or a beech, where they have dis- covered the mast to be abundant. " The flight of this Duck is powerful, rapid, and as sustained as that of the Mallard. While travelling by day, they may be distinguished from that species by the wbiteness of their lower wing-coverts, which form a strong contrast to the deep tints of the rest of the plumage. Their progress through the air, when at full speed, must, I think, be at the rate of more than a mile in a minute, or about seventy miles an hour. When about to alight, they descend with double rapidity, causing a strong, rustling sound by the weight of their compact bodies and the rapid movements of their pointed wings. When alarmed by a shot or otherwise, they rise off their feet by a powerful single spring, fly directly upwards for eight or ten yards, and then pro- ceed in a straight line. " The Black Ducks generally appear in the Sound of Long Island in September or October, but, in very cold weather, pro- ceed Southward ; while those which breed in Texas, as I have been informed, remain there all the year. At their arrival they UPLAND SHOOTING. 115 betake themselves to the fresh-water ponds, and soon become fat, when they aflbrd excellent eating ; but when the ponds are covered with ice, they betake themselves to estuaries or inlets of the sea, and their llcsh becomes less juicy, and assumes :i fishy ilavor. During continued frost, they cojl'act into larger bodies than at any other time — a flock once alighted seeming to attract others, until at last hundreds of them meet, especially in the dawn and toward sunset. The larger the flock, however, the more ditRcult it is to aj)proach it, for many sentinels arc seen on the lookout, while the rest are asleep or feeding along the shores. Unlike the Sea Ducks, this species does not ride at an- chor, as it were, during its hours of repose." — Audubon''s Birds of America. THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. Anas Discors. 5? ke a le " Male, 16.3U. Female, 15.24. *' Breeds in Texas and Westward, Great Lakes, Fur Coun- tries, Columbia River. Very abundant in autumn and spring in the Middle Atlantic Districts, as well as in the interior. Abun- dant also in all the Southern States. " Adult Male. " Bill almost as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end ; its breadth nearly e(iual in its whole length, being, however, a little enlarged toward the rounded tip. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline at first sloping, then nearly straight, on the unguis decurved, the ridge broad and flat at the base, suddenly narrowed over the nostrils, broader and convex toward the end ; the sides erect at the base, afterward sloping and con^'ex ; the narrow membranous mar- gins a little broader at the end. Nostrils sub-basal, near the ridge, rather small, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible flat- tened, straight, with the angle very long and rather narrow, the 116 FUANK FOUESTEr's FIELD SPORTS. dorsal line very short and slightly convex, the sides internally erect, with about a hundred and twenty laniellce. " Head of a moderjite size, oblong, compressed. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Feet siiort, placed rather far back. Ta' is short, compressed at its lower part, anteriorly with two series of scutella, tlie rest cov- ered with reticulated angular scales. Toes with numerous scu- telia above. First toe very small, and with a narrow membrane beneath ; third longest ; fourth about a quarter of an inch shorter ; the anterior toes united by reticulatt^. webs, of which the outer is deeply sinuate. Claws small, curved, compressed, acute ; the hind one smaller and more curved, that of the third toe largest, ami with the inner margin sharp. " Plumage dense, soft and blended. Feathers of the head and neck very small and slender — of the back and lower parts in general, broad and rounded. Wings of moderate length, rather narrow and acute ; primaries strong, slightly curved, tapering ; the first scarcely longer than the second, the rest rapidly de- creasing ; secondaries broad, the outer obliquely rounded, the inner elongated and acuminate, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounded and acuminate, of fourteen rather narrow acumi- nate feathers. "Bill bluish-black. Iris dark hazel. Feet dull yellow; webs dusky. Claws brownish-black, with the tips grayish-yel- low. Upper part of the head black ; a semilunar patch of pure white on the side of the head before the eye, margined before and behind with black. The rest of the head, and the anterior parts of the neck, of a deep purplish-blue, with purplish-red re- flections ; the lower hind neck and fore-part of back brownish- black, glossed with green, each featiier with a curved band of pale reddish-buff, and a line or band of the same in the centre ; the hind part of the back greenish-brown, the feathers edged with paler. The smaller wing-coverts of a rich ultra-marine blue, silkj'^, with almost metallic lustre. Alula, primary coverts and primary quills, grayish-brown, edged with pale bluish ; outer secondaries of the same color, those of the speculum duck- UPLAND SHOOTING. 117 green, cljunging to blue and bronze, with a narrow line of white along their terminal margin ; the inner greenish-blaclc on the outer web, greenish-brown on the inner, with a central line and narrow external margin of pale reddish-buir; the more elongated scapulars similar, but some of them margined with grecnisli- blue. Secondary coverts brown, with their terminal portion white. Tail feathers chocolate-brown, sligiitly glossed with green ; their margins bully. The lower parts are pale reddish- orange, shaded on the breast with purplish-red, and thickly spotted with black, the number of roundish or ellii)tical spots on each feather varying from ten to twenty-five ; those on the upper and hind parts of the sides running into transverse bars. Axil- lary featliers, some of the lower wing-coverts, and a patch on the side of the rump, pure white ; lower tail coverts brownish-black. " Length to end of tail, IG inches ; to end of claws, 14] ; lo end of wing', 14j; extent of wings, 31| ; wing from flexure, 7t2 ; tail, .3fV, bill along the back, 1] ; from frontal process to tip, Ij ; tarsus, Ifj; first toe and claw, ,1; middle toe and claw, 1 If ; outer toe and claw, 1 ,% ; weight, 12ioz. " Adult Female. " Bill greei.ish-dusky. Iris hazel. Feet of a duller yellow than those of female ; the head and neck are pale, dull bull", lon- gitudinally marked with brownish-black lines, which are broader and darker on the top of the head ; the tore-parts of the cheek and the throat whitish, without markings. The upper parts are dark brown, the feathers margined with brownish-white. The smaller ving-coverts colored as in the male, but less brilliantly ; no blue on the scapulars, which are also less elongated. On the lower parts, the feathers are dusky-brown, broadly margined with light brownish-gray, of which there is a streak or spot in the centre. The axillary feathers, and some of the lower wing- coverts are white, but the patch of that color, so consj)icuous in the male, is wanting. "Length to end of tail, 15 inches; to end of wings, 14^', to end of claws, 15i ; extent of wings, 24; wing from (lexure, 7| ; tail, 2fV; bill along the ridge, 2fT; weight, lOloz. I 1^ V II **1 i ; Jl8 FHANK FORESTEK S FIELD SPOKTS. " The young birds are similar to the female, hut paler, and without the s-peculum." — Amluboii's Birds of America, ♦' The Bmm'.-Wixged Teal is the first of its trihe that returns to us ill the autumn from its l;rce(lin(f-])lacc in the North. They are usually scon early in Sejitemlier aloiiff the shores of the Dela- ware, w here they sit on the mud, close to the edge of the water, so crowded together, that tlie gunners often kill great numbers at a single discharge. When a ilock is discovered thus sitting and sunning themselves, the experienced gunner runs his bateau ashore at some distance above or below them, and, getting out, pushes her before him over the slipjiery mud, concealing him- self all the while behind her. By this method he can sometimes approach within twenty yards of the flock, among which he generally makes great slaughter. They ily rapidly, and when they alight, drop down suddenly, like the Snipe or Woodcock, among the reeds or on the mud. They feed chiefly on vegeta- ble food, and are eagerly fond of the seeds of the reeds or wild oats. Their flesh is excellent, and after their residence for a short time among the reeds, they become very fat. As the first frosts come on, they proceed to the South, being a delicate bird, eery susceptible of cold. They abound in the inundated rice fieldf. of the Southern States, where vast numbers are taken in traps, placed on small dry eminences, that here and there rise above the water. These places are strewed Avith rice, and by the common contrivance called a figure four they are caught alive in hollow traps. In the month of Aj)ril they pass through Penn- sylvania for the North, but make little stay at that season. 1 have observed them numerous on the Hudson, opposite to the Katskill Mountains. They rarely visit the sea shore." — Wil. 8Gn''s Am. Ornitholoyy. The Blue-Winged Teal is stated to be very easily tamed, and very docile in confinement. It is strange that this bird and the Wood Duck are not both domesticated. It 11 'i il n i ! I I ,!■ •• i'l.,., .■.-! 1 ••■■ !■'.:■ iiL-. . ■!> .: , II .. ; i. ,., v,!'-. ).;;>' ■ ■ A.l-.a! Mv- . iirl AiN .: !;. ' > . I'. i ■ 1 ' i.\ L"t l'; (.'j'!/',".' II' ■■ : ■' . !■:.: , l' :( !^ '''iliiM^> c, ivv.i ',,. 'Hi ' ■>•!■! !mI ;" : (.■ j'li.-r . >■ - ■•: i ',>;• , i:m< ; ii'.'s ..■■'•, ■v.ili .' I u . ■ ,• : l.i'i" .1 . li, !i: >; !.l. I lil:.,< ' ■ - •' -i ' • . 1,1. -A .>r inriiii'!' '' il!i: 'i, ■■■ ■ '•• • :i. iii\V- ') ',• •■ '■■ ■ ;1 il..'' •.. '.'.••■ .1'.. ii!;'; . " ;'; a' ..i'H. j li;,iiil ^-'l . i i • .. '■' t 'f ,: I I ; :ii ' !! '■.»' '• ■'''■■ . ' • " ' ,,•.; .Ii, r:.i!.!'i- -l.'ii'i i'. i' .' •.■ 1 : ■; ■ ' • . f.i ' 1 '■■,-' ..'.:,,> n; ;':i-ij • ,\', ■■ ' ■ . ,-, , • I ■■••■ ' ■. r ■ I .'Ai : ,' It's :il! ' 1 • . .• • i!ii> Vk -\ •> ■■ , v 1: '; . ■ M I r . ■• ,. ; • :i '..I . (■ , ilr>l 1 p.- I" ■ .s,. . I ■ .'. /^ i :•! .. •!.'■; Ill •: ;ut' i , •'. 'nM.- ! I ■ . • ' ■' , .'.U'j •■<_■ i'S : I'Ll' .i". ■-;:■. \^ . :■••. • ■■ ■ "'ii '(. irlil-- i/':v» Sliiliti, r.irv.'il, '.•■irjjnS^iieii, .., .i' ■ ,' iC c;i! \(- ■ ; ili.il, . ■'•c Uiiri: J , , . iJi'l, .!■ :il,i . !i|v^ . . I>. Ii \Y 1 ■ Ii ii|..;r tvi; ; i>i .ll-!' H. (I -lilV :;ufc. ! : I' i : V I -!!■ :!l:! I'j j . ip Hlii UPLAND SHOOTINO. 110 THE GREKN-WINGED TEAL. Anas Crecca, sJue, CaroUnensia. « Male, 14?.2l. Fenuilc, 13','.22i. " Disperseil tlirouijrhmil the country duiinj; autumn and sprinjj. Extremely ubuudaat (luiiujj; winter in nil tlic Soutliem States and Texas. Breeds sparingly along the Great Lukes, and far North. " Adult Male. " Bill almost as long as the head, dce[)er than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, its breadth nearly eiiual in its whole length, being, however, a little enlarged toward the rounded ti|). Upper mandible with the dorsal line at first slop- ing, then concave, toward the ends noariy straight, the ridge broad and tlat at the base, then broiully convex, the sides con- vex, the edges soft, with about fifly-lise lamclhu. Nostrils sub-bcisal, near tiic ridge rather siuall, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible ilattish, witii the angle very lung and rather narrow. The dorsal line very short, stiaiirht, the sides [)erpen- dicular, with about a hundred and thirty liuuelliu. " Head of moderate size, compressed. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Wings rather small. Feet short, placed ratlier far back. Tarsus short, com- pressed at its lower part, anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated angular scales. Toes scutel late above ; first toe very small, free, with a narrow membrane beneath ; third longest, fourth a little shorter ; the anterior toes connected by reticulated webs, of which the outer is deejdy si- nuate. Claws small, curved, compressed, acute ; the hind one smaller anil more curved ; that of the third toe largest, and with an inner sharp edge. " Plumage dense, soft, blended. Feathers of the middle of the head and upper part of hind neck very narrow, elongated, with soft, filamentous, disunited bands ; of the rest of the head ! 1 il ViO FUANK FOKKSTI.irs PII.I.D f^POUTH. •J (iml ii|t|)i'r |)urls (if nock very short; of llio hack uml lower pints in jfciicial, broad and roundcil. Wings of moderate length, nurrosv, acute. Primaries strong, curved, tapering ; second longest ; lirst scarcely sliorter; sei'onihn'ics hroad, rather point- ed, the inner cdongateil and tapering, as arc the scapuhirs. Tail short, rounded and acuminate, of sixteen acuminate feathers. " Hill liiack. Iris brown. Feet lijj;hl bluish-";rav. Head and upper part of the neck chestnut-brown ; a broad band narrowing backward from the eye dow n llu; back of the neck, deep, shin- ing green, edged with black below ; under which is a white line, which, before the eye, meets another that curves forward and downward to the angles of the mouth. Chin brownish-black, as are the feathers at the base of the up|)er mandible. Upper parts and flanks beautifully undulateileted lier set of eggs than she is abandoned by her nuite, who now joins others, which form themselves into considerable (locks, and thus remain until the young are able to ily, when old and young of botii sexes come together, any -f ,. j^cneral ilicta, ascribing tliose habits invariably to this or Ihaf s[)Ci'ies, much confusion and inconvenience may be att-ributed. As an instance, I will merely state iiere, what 1 shall go into more largely hereafter, that the coinmon Quail, Orli/x Virijinia- 11(1, which is to tlie Westward distinctly a bird of passage, with e:isily defined habits of migration, eastward of the Dela- v.aro River is unquestionably stationary ; and that from this undoubted fact, a ((ucstion has arisen whether there were not two did'erent species; and, that hypothesis proved untenable. a doubt, among the less enlightened of Eastern sportsmen, whe- ther the naturalists and travellers who have insisted on tlie migratory habits of the Quail, especiallj- on the Ohio and other huge western rivers, have not ignorantly or wilfully falsified the truth. Such mistakes should be guarded against with care, and all conflicting statements, as made by candid and earnest enquirers, regarded Avilh the utmost liberality and allowance ; which, I regret to say, is too seldom practised by naturalists, who fre- quently appear to regard all who differ from themselves, much in the light of enemies, or of heretics, with whom no terms are to be kept. The last water-fowl, of which I shall give a minute descrip- tion as falling under the head of Upland Game, is the PINTAIL DUCK, & th I. V Anas Acuta — Wilson. Le Canard a Longne Queue — Bnssott. The Winter Duck, Sprigtuil, Picjcontail, vnlgo. " Male 29.30. Female 221.34. " From Texas tiiroughout the interior to the Columbia River, and along the Atlantic coast to Maine, during the winter, and early spring. Breeds in the Arctic regions Abundant. 1 M UPLAND SHOOTINO. 129 " Bill nearly as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, the fiontal ani^lcs short and obtuse. Upper mandible with dorsal line at first sloping, then concave — toward the curved unguis nearly straight ; the ridge broad and flat at the base, then hroadly convex ; the sides convex ; the edges soft, with about fifty internal lamell.c ; unguis small, somewhat triangular, curved ahi uplly at the broad end. Nostrils suh-basal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible flattish, its angle very lung and narrow ; the dorsal line very short, slightly convex ; the sides convex ; the edges soft, with about fifty lamelhe. " Head of moderate size, compressed, the forehead rounded. Neck rather long and slender. Body full and depressed. Wings rather small. Feet very short, placed rather far l)ack ; tarsus very short, compressed, at its lower part anteriorly witii two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated scales. Toes obliquely scutellate above; first very small, free, with a narrow meml)ranc beneath ; third longest; fourth a little shorter, their connecting we!)s entire, reticulated, at the end pectinate. Claws small, curved, compressed, acute; the hind one smaller and more curved — that of the third toe with an inner sharp edge. " Plumage dense, soft, blended. Feathers of the head and neck short ; on the hind head and neck clonsrated. VV^inu;s narrow, of moderate length, acute ; the first quill longest, the second nearly etjual, the rest rapidly graduated ; outer seconda- ries hr'iid and rounded ; inner elongated and tapering, as arc their coverts and the scapulars; first ciuill serrated on the outer edme, soniethin- • ••/; IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I *^ Uii 12.2 ^ U& 12.0 m ■ 1.25 II 1.4 III 1.6 ^ 6" ► Hiotographic Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WnSTIR,N.Y. 14910 (71«) •72-4903 ^ t^*^ ^^V^ "'4^ ' >.^ ^ 4^ 0 134 FUANK FOUESTEB's FIELD SPORTS. THE UPLAND SHOOTING OF THE EASTERN AND MIDDLE STATES, AND OF THE BRITISH PROVINCES. PLAND SHOOTING, which, with the interval of about three montlis in ordinary seasons, may be enjoyed in some form or other during the whole year, in the Eastern and Middle States, may be divided with propriety into four difl'erent heads, commencing with the opening of spring, and terminating only with the termi- nation of the year. These heads are " Spring Snipe Shooting ;" " Summer Cock Shooting;" " Upland Plover Shooting;" and " Autunm Shoot- ing," which might be called " general shooting," inasmuch as in the course of a good day's sport, it is by no means unusual to bring to bag almost every variety of game which I have enume- rated above, the Grouse and the Northern Hare alone excepted. A separate head must be given to Grouse shooting, — by a\ hich I mean Pinnated Grouse ; since they are so nearly extinct in those districts in which alone Upland Shooting is prri "tised sci- entifically and as a sport, that they are rarely, I might say never met with, by those in pursuit of other game. It will be observed that I am now speaking of Upland shoot- ing, as it is ; botli established by law, and habitually practiced, UPLAND SHOOTINO. 135 liMIM! in those of the States in which only game is generally protected by statute ; not as I think it should be. For it is my settled opi- nion that Spring Snipe shooting and Summer Cock shooting are both abominations ; and that both humanity and policy forbid the slaughter of these birds of passage, until they have finished rear- ing their young, and until those young have attained their full growth. On this topic I shall enlarge hereafter, under the head of " Game Preservation ;" though I have but slight hopes that any steps will be taken, which can avail to preserve all the winged game of America from speedy extermination. In like manner, I shall defer the observations, which I propose to make on the species, management, diseases, etc., of Sporting Dogs, and and on the qualities and management of the Fowlingpiece, and the art of shooting on the Wing, until 1 have got through what I have to say on Upland shooting generally. And here I will remark, once for all, in reply to a question which has already been propounded to me several times, since it has transpired that I am engaged on this work — " Whether any portion of it will be set apart esj)ecially for the instruction of young sportsmen .'" — I am aware of nothing in the science of woodcraft more appropriate to be learned by the beginner, than another. There is no patent by which skill may be ac- quired, no formula to be learned, after which all is plain and easy sailing. So soon as any person has acquired the powei of bringing up his gun correctly on an object, and firing it at once without dwelling on his aim, he is fit to take the field ; and after this, all the dilference between the old and young, the good and bad, sportsman, natural (jualifications which cannot be acquired alone excepted, is the amount of practice, and the extent of observation. He who most thoroughly understands the natural history, the instincts and the habits, both of the animals which he pursues and the animals which he uses as assistants in pursuit, will necessarily be tlie best sportsman ; and all that the best sport- ing writer can accomplish is to give a small number of facts on which to work ; and so to throw out many suggestions, which shall lead the sportsman into the habit of thinking for himself, ?l ;|l .136 FRANK FORESTEll S FIELD SPORTS. and seeing with his own eyes ; and above all, cause him to avoid regarding the smallest peculiarity he may observe in the field of nature unworthy of consideration. With regard to the art of shooting, a very few instructions only can be given, and they can do but little toward the formation of a shot. Practice alone can make a good shot, even of one en- dowed with the greatest natural aptitude ; and, without the gift of natural aptitude, no one can ever hope to be a crack shot on the wing. No one, however, who desires it, need des pair of becoming, in something more than a moderate degree, a proficient in this beautiful art, since the introduction of the percussion system ; which has so greatly simplified the art, and diminished the difficulty of shooting on the wing, that it is a current remark now-a-days that, "a bad shot in 1848 is a rarer thing to meet than a good one wiis in 1800." The same thing is in a less degree the case with the man- agement of dogs in the field; there are, it is true, general, aye, and particular rules, which may be laid down for the guidance of the hunter ; which rules, if strenuously put in practice, shall be in themselves all sufficient. But to this end practice is essential — practice in learning when and how each rule is to be put in force ; practice in controlling impatience, in combat- ing temper, in acquiring perfect coolness and complete self- command. No man may hope, let him know how to do so never so well, to govern his dogs, until he has learned first to govern himself. If I were asked to state what were the three things most necessary to the formation of the perfect sportsman, I think I should parody the reply of the great Athenian rhetorician, and reply, " Practice ! practice ! practice I" But of these things severally in their places : and now to the field for spring Snipe-shooting. 'W'^'^ f\ y.X: it^Xtif' *■•■■ . j«"f it*. ,:l i;, /•••'a'.iL.-!! :J■^•.^^^l j^v *■!.• ■ ■■■^C T'S; ^.■^:« ■< ■»T .kv" .♦f':^ , v.. . ■...'■it);' ■•3^■^-::^' V A'. .1...-^ -'Ki'./Mjj*. .'I'w; ■v.;-.Vj; ; I . : . I 1 '*«•■'■ ■> .ij.. !.■.;■> I "t ''«,. .0' ■r.,f''A t^ ^'' L^-3. ■f^ :i'-'i ■■'<■ PI f :-).>!■ ■!' ''; ^ti. I«f*:j;^'^^ :> '^^i) mA M^-:r\)^,: [li^^fm^ii ■1 -I Sft. * Jf : -y's?''S frWiil '.?^^ "^S ■M ifi ^*h' :yf\^^' :^^ «■; .Ii-,,i}5i. UPLAND 8)I00TINn. SPRING SNIPE-SHOOTING. \m Amkuicax Smpi:, — Scolopax Wihonii, — which is commonly known in this country as tl;c KnLjIish Snipe, but which is undoubtedly a distinct species, winters, as we have seen, in the Southern States, and yet southward of the m(i>;t southern ; being rarely found in the winter northward, or i; !io summer south- ward, of the Carolinas. The great nfultitude breed far to the northward, not only of the United States, but of the British Provinces, in the vast marshy tracts which extend inland nearly to tlie Arctic Ocean. Many, however, make their nests and rear their young in the secluded morasses of Maine, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick ; and a few pairs, here and there throughout the Eastern and Middle States, becom.ing less frequent as they advance toward the South, so far probably as the north of Pennsylvania. In Western Canada, in the neighborhood of Amherstberg, they are likewise found during the breeding seas(jn, and probably on the southern verge of the Great Lakes likewise. They are, however, with us, from New Jersey eastward, essentially a spring and autumn passing visitant ; and this is their character so far northward as Quebec. In New Brunswick and ill 138 FUANK fck::steu's field SrORTS. Nova Sctitia they may perhaps he regurdccl as a sumiiier resident | though I am persuaded that their numbers, even there, in the spring and autumn, Avill be found vastly to exceed the tale of those which remain and rear their young. Tluougliout the Southern and Western country they are, on the contrary, winter residents. Now the shooting of these birds in spring, as they are either pairing here preparatory to breeding, or moving northward pre- paratory to pairing, or even actually breeding — as is the case when they are shot in May — is precisely what it would be to shoot Woodcock in February, March, and April, or Quail so late as to the middle of May ; the destruction of the breeders, and con- sequent diminution of the number of the next year's young, being the same in both cases. The American Snipe lays four eggs ; the death, therefore, of every Snijje during spring shooting is erjuivalent to the death of five of these beautiful and sporting little birds. This, one would suppose, would be conclusive against the practice ; but if he venture to break ground in favor of the abo lition by law of this unfair, and I must think, unsportsmanlike practice, he is met and silenced by some such exquisite reason as this — that if spring Snipe-shooting were prohibited, we should have no spring sliooting at all ; and the same extjuisite reason is adduced against the only step which can save the Woodcock from extermination, I mean the abolition of summer cock- shooting. To return, however, to spring Snipe-shooting, as it is. So soon as the spring is fairly broken, and the frost — to use a common phrase — entirely out of the ground, the Snipe begins to appear upon our meadows. This breaking of the spring, and disappearance of the subterranean frost is, as is well known, very uncertain as regards tlie time of its occurrence. Sometimes, particularly when the winter has been continuous and severe, spring comes upon us suddenly and remains permanent — with no cold squalls and nipping frosts intermediate — increasing still into perfect summer. At other times, most frequently when VVLAND SWOOTINH. the winter has 1 ^^^ ;-.i..' of .^."u:;;:;™:;::^« -'I ^.i-i. -"" -..en .,. 'I'e first of ,!,„, ,„„,„|,^ '""" ""!> snow ,n Pl.iludelphia on ■i.et!i:« '™'„°'o„g t:!:;;'';!* ""■.."'•"•"s. "- s„ipo „o,„p„,, """ '->• 1 = «e«ll.er becomes .,„ Jork into o™„„e oo.,,!,;, „ Zlm IT ', *°™ '''"■'■ ^'- Jeep snow, and, « iU.in a week aftl /'I' '" " ^'"«''' "^ If* of June, s|,o, Snipe Tl 1"'' "'"' ""'"=•'' "P to Ihe Northward, with n^ tarryil ° "^^' '''^^' ^"'^ '^en off again t or several years, latterly, snrin. « • , ;nd./rerent, that few shorts Ji hSJ^; "'''"» ""'' ^««" - kets have been badly supplied "^ '*' '^"^ '^"^^ ^^^^ '"ar- The arrival, howevpr ne n c ■ ern New York theTeTiil LdT '" "^^^ '''''y~'^ «-^'^- tenth of March, which i hf ea liesTdT "'-^''^^'^^ ^^^ *'- «een them plentiful on the UnT f " '' ^^'""^'^ ^ '^"^^ ever ^^'•'•'- If they have not tv^^. T 1T' '^ '^^ '^^'^^'^ ^f ^«y generally be taken for .r!nted llT ""' ^he.e dates, it Pnng Snipe-shooting. '' ^^' *^^' ^''^ y^'^'' will have „« Jt must be observe°d thit nhf • • "■e Sfound, be „„,e „', iJ^Z^^ Z"' '■'"'''' ""'"edialel/on "« "i'ove once, i„ fi.^ ZyZ'',fjl°' '7^""'' ^'"^ " » 8'ay under snob favorable oircjLT' ^^'^ '"'* "">« "» ""d '! - '--d, ,0 .be ground dtTenT ~" "''" '° =''"»■ - "^ys and passuig onward, nil A . (' ! 140 FRANK FORESTKll's FIELD Sl'DllTS. it is very possililc tliiit nstriin;;nr, coming' from a flistimce to shoot, will fiiid the inc:i(li)\vs wliich were yeslenlay alive with Siiij)e, entirely dcserteJ, and vice versa. ■ Still there are signs and tokens hoth of the weather and of the animal creation — temperatures of the former and coincidences of the la' tor — by which the observant s|)()rt.sman may come at con- clusions, even at a distance from his ground, and sebloni errone- ously, concerning the arrival and sojourn of Snipe. And again, the birds have habits and haunts, during various aspects and sudden changes of weather, a thorough knowlctjge of which will enable one sportsman to fill his hag, while another on the same ground shall make up his mind in despair, that there are no Snipe on the meadows. There is no bird whose habits I have sludicd more closely than those of the Snipe, more esj)ecially during his vernal visit to our part of the country, for which iny residence, nearly adjoining the very finest Sni])e-ground, as I believe it even ycl to be, in the world, has given me great facilities; and I have it in my power to point out one or two peculiarities — tending, by the way, more com- pletely to distinguish it from the European species — which have escaped the observation of our great American naturalists, Wilson and Audubon. I have, moreover, shot them from Delaware southward, t(> Quebec, in the north ; and from the Niagara River to the coun try about the Penobscot ; so that I have not been without opi)or tunity of becoming acquainted in some degree with their habits, throughout the whole geographical area of their spring and autumn migration ; and here I would state, though with nmch deference, as becomes one did'ering from so high an authority, that neither in this nor in any other of our migratory birds of Game is there so much dillbrence with regard to the time of their arrival and departure within the limits I have named, as Mr. Audubon would make. That eloquent writer and accurate observer, states the arrival of this bird to he a month later, varying with the season, in Maine than in Pennsylvania ; and ten days later yet in Nova UPLAND SHOOTINO. 141 I Scotia. Ntiw I nm sntisficd that, iihIpss wlicii tlic viiitpr is cx- tromoly slmrl anil sprini; iiniKiialiy Avariii and early to tlic West- ward, tills (liscrcpaiicy Is u;ioally ovorralod. 'I'lio ni'crayc (•ominciicemrnt of Siil|)e-sliooting, even in Dcla- Avarc, is not earlier, I am convinced, tlinn tlic first of April ; and, except In unconnnonly early seasons, tliey appear almost slinulla- iieotisly In New Jersey and New Yorlc. Karly in April, I have shot tlioso hirds In ahundam-e close to the Falls of Nia;^ara ; early in April 1 have shot them in Maine; and at the end of that same month, I have shot them on the upland pastures around Quehec. On avera^fc seasons, that is to say seasons in which the s|)rln;; is everywhere late and hackward, I have found hy my own oh- servatlon, that the arrival hoth of the Woodcock and of the Snipe \i nearly simultaneous, from Pennsylvania to Maine, and I believe on emiulry such will prove to be the case. This Is, however, except as a matter of curiosity, tendln;^ to throw li!j;lil on tlio brccdin'^ se.isons of oiu' bird In various |)Iacos, and so to enable us to legislate with most advantage for his pre- Bei-vation, a matter of sm;ill importance ; for, from the moment of his arrival in each several locality, until that of liis departure, ho is incessantly persocutcd and pursued ; and, as the causes of his arrival aro the same in all places, so will, I a2)pfeliend, he the signs of his coming also. The next observation that I would make in this place, is to guard the sportsman, in the United States and Canada, from placing tliL- slightust reliance on the maxims, advice nr opinions promulgated, (.'Von in the best sporting books published in Eng- ind, ( onccriiiiig the Snipe, or its congeiior the Woodcock. The birds aro in every respect diilbicnt from the European species, as to their hahits, haunts and seasons; and one point of difference alone is sufficient to render all that is laid down with regard to the manner of hunting them there, entirely useless here. Thcie they are winter, here more or less summer, birds of passage; so that the localities which they freipicnt in the two hemispheres are of course nearly opposite. Not an English hook but will tell you, and tell you tiiily, as if I i , 148 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. regards the English Snipo, tliat the most favorable wealh.er foi the sport is dark, blowing, drizzling days — the very worst con- rcivablc for our bird ; which is apt to be as wild as a Hawk in windy weather, while it will sometimes lie till it is difficult to kick it up, on bright, warm, suimy days, with the wind southerly. But of this anon. In the first place, observe, as regards the arrival of Snipe on the meadows, that it mattei-s not how fair and mild and warm tlie weather may be, or may have been for many days, overhcjid, not a bird will be found until the subterranean frost and ice have been entirely dissijiated ; which is rarely the case until nfter a three days' storm of rain, with a stiff easterly blow, succeeded l)y joft, spring-like weather. It must here be remarked that, in morasses and bog meadows, whether fresh or salt, the underground frost lasts much longer unthawed than it does on the uplands. In one instance, I re- member finding all the meadows as hard as ice below some six inches of soft mud, when the frost had disappeared for many days on the uplands, and when the progress of spring was evident in the bursting buds and springing grass. Of course not a bird was '-''' be found. The first of the winged harbingers of spring is the beautiful little Blue-Bird ; and so soon as ho has taken up his residence with us, and commenced cleaning out his accustomed box, or pre- paring materials for his nest in the hole of a decayed apple-tree, we may be sure that the Snipe is not far distant. When the buds of the willow trees display their yellowish verdure, and the chiiping croak of the frogs rises li'om every swampy pond, we may feel confident that he is to be found on the meadows ; but not until the Shad is abundant at the mouths of our rivers, is the Snipe plentiful on the inland morasses. On his first arrival, he generally hangs for two or three days in small whisps, or, oftcner yet, scattered individually, along the salt meadows on the coast, especially in places where fresh springs boil up from the ground, or spring-brooks trickle down from the upland. UPLAND SHOOTING. 143 At such times, a few straggling birds may be picked up on the south side ol' Long Islnnd, where the trout-streams, below tlie pond-dams, ovimAow tlie salt meadows, before a solitary Snipe has appeared inland. Then the salt marshes about the mouths of the Raritan, the Hackcnsac, and the Passaic, attract them in turn for a few days ; after which they gradually ascend the courses of those streams to the great tracts of morass and bog-meadow, which are spread out for lengues, the very Para- dise of the Snipe-shooter, especially about the last-named river. Here, if the weather is favorable and settled, they remain for many weeks ; and may be pursued with much success and sport, by the skilful sportsman, whatever may be the nature of the day, unless it has been 2)recedod by a very sharj) frost. The most favorable time is, undoubtedly, the first fine warm day after a long, easterly rain-storm ; and, so thoroughly am I convinced of this fact, that for many seasons, while resident in New York, it was my habit to order my horses, and set out on the third day of a north-eastern storm, if the sky showed the slightest prospect of clearing, before the rain had in the least abated. It has more than once happened to me, thus setting off late in tlie evening, while it was jet raining, to see the sky gra- dually clear up, and to hear the shrill squeak of the Snijje travel- ling overhead faster than myself, though in the same direction, before reaching my shooting-ground, scarce twenty miles distant ; and I have been amply rewarded for my trouble by an excellent and undisturbed day's sport, over meadows well stocked with birds, and as yet virgin of gunners. In such cases, it will often, however, happen that the weather on the one or more days which can be spared for shooting, proves wild, windy and unfavoriible ; yet the sportsman who has trav- elled from a distance must take it as he finds it — if he reside on the spot he can, and of course will, pick his own days ; which, if he be wise, will be those soft, moist, silvery mornings, which so often follow slight hoar-frosts, when the heaven is covered with the thinnest filmy haze, through which the sunbeams are poured down warm but mellow, and when there is just enough of low voii. I. 12 144 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. southerly wind abroad to dry the herbage and to give the dogs a chance of scenting their game. As the stranger cannot thus choose, it is most important that he should know how to make the best of bad circumstances ; for even in the worst weather, if there be birds at all upon his range, knowing his ground and the habits of his bird, he will be able, nine times out often, to make a fair day's work. I once shot three successive days over the Long Meadow, Lewises, the Troy and Parsippany Meadows, from Pine Brook, with a friend, in the very worst weather I ever saw for Snipe- shooting — dry, keen, cutting north-easters, wjin the dust flying one half hour, and the sun shming clear but cold, and hailstones pelting down the next. The birds were, of c.iurse, as wild as can be imagined ; drumming high up in the air, and performing all kinds of unusual antics ; yet, by dint of good dogs, desperate fagging, and a perfect knowledge of our ground, we picked up sixty-two couple of Snipe, besides a few Duck, in the course of three days. No great work, it is true, nor much to boast of; but, mark me now — during those same three days, two other gentlemen, as good shots as ourselves, perhaps better, beat the same meadows, put- ting up at the rival tavern, and hunting so exactly the same line of country with ourselves, that we met and conversed with them more than once each day. These gentlemen bagged, in all- eleven Snipe and a Sandpiper ; and that for the simplest reason imaginable — they did not know where to look for Snipe in wild weather, while we did. It i.s, of course, unnecessary to tell any person acquainted with the first elements of Shooting, that the Snipe feeds, not on suc- tion, but on small worms and other insects, which he collects by boring in moist earth with his long sensitive bill. His favorite feeding-grounds are, therefore, soft, sloppy tracts, where the soil is rich vegetable loam, or bog-earth, interspersed with springs, and sparsely covered with low, succulent grasses ; — earth, from the surface of which the waters have recently subsided, and on which a muddy, rust-colored scum has been deposited, on their UPLAND SHOOTING. wll rarely lie, ,„ „ ,„ affo '«,,," '""""'^ ™'"=''. "'e^ . "■• young gr^ t^ «c,^XlT r '■" "" •"■™. » l-» Snrpe eame and fey. "I""""'" '"'I'.ls have rendered the 'o'he bird,, into »hieh°.l™ *"'""« f «.»«■"*« IheUer "'" «talfe in ordinary ,vea,he^ I' ™ ' ""'I"""'"'" "'"■='■ «>ay 7" in such MealLerCtTr .r"""' """ '•""-1"o„„y C^' places, indeed, in M-hieh no b„„ r™ '" '"'y **™l place, ""M lead „,,',„ seek he! 'd'i"/ ""'" '^"•y. »•". 1 C' '- .el. us .bey are never .^ Cl':'"""' "' -'■-" '"« «u...ori.' Dut, to proceed in order- ll,o - " f« the most par, abon, brei-hW L T ""'"' '''"''' '"> does tofore he gathers wing, and Ihen dart , "*" "" "'" '"' » ''"><>. •f no., across wind, .."k and Tack ti ^ 7 "'""• '" ""'"'"'''^ -•' »"<• •"S'nner. I think, h„w, „, Jf" """• PO^'^'ling objects to . 7^ons, they .re as easy i "d 0.7°" """'"""^ '" "-ir Andubon states, i„ allusion to P °' "">' """ "'o'- Mr «"i|'e. .-.a. be ^ho can t i .yrr"" """-".V of ^im g one, ..s a good hand a, any kfd"f ,"'""' "■'"""" """-'i Aodnbon is speaking ironi al t In'"'- ' """'"- "r *"*'(»»%, or even /„„„„„„ m/ , "^ ''^ ""' *'". I'e n.eans No .an ever lived wrot*;,;:':;*; "' "" '"""''"■''C Sn.pe,or thirty „f any other birf 1 , ' "' ""'»•-"- -M^y kave seen „„„y eraek shots in .nVlt f .' i" """''''"'"■ ' '""^ ^ ""^ • -over saw the „„:, TH:"::,:: r,:: f ,r :i 146 FRANK FOHESliiR S FIELD SPORTS. i: ^ who, shooting at every bird that rises in distance, can kill four out of five under the most favorable circumstances, day in and day out. He who bags three out of five, in covert and out of covert, from March Snipe to December Quail, is a top-sawyer ; and ciin hold his own anywhere, and against any one. Some men may perhaps kill twenty shots in succession, picked out of fifty birds which ought to have been shot at ; but my word for it, they will get easily beaten by the man who pretends to no such feat, but who pulls his trigger, whenever there is a chance of killing. The real test of shooting, no less than of sportsmanship, is the finding and bagging the greatest number of birds within a given time, without the smallest reference to the number of shots fired. The surest of all ways to ensure the never becoming a good shot, is to be afraid of missing. Shoot at everything that rises within distance, remembering always, as an old Yorkshire game- keeper, by whose side I bagged my first Snipe some eight-and- twenty years ago, was wont to admonish me, that t' Snaipe was i' t' maist danger. If you miss, say with Jacob Faithful, " bet- ter luck next time," and endeavor to observe and remember how and why you missed him ; whether you shot above, below, or to the right or left of him ; this will give you steadiness and cool- ness at first ; and, when you succeed in remembering, will have done much already toward preventing you from missing fair shots at least. For the rest, birds will dodge, at times, just when the trigger is drawn ; boughs will be in the way 5 the sun will shine in the face of the best shots — moreover, the steadiest nerves will sometimes be shaken or unstrung, and the quickest finger will be a thumb on some days to the best sportsman. I know a right good shot, and a good sportsman too, and a good friend of mine to boot, who does not pretend to kill quite three out of five, year in and year out ; but who is wont to say, which is very wrong of him, though I believe perfectly true, that he'll be d — d if he can't beat any man, who can kill twenty shots in succession. So much for thine encouragement, my young beginner. UPLAND SHOOTING. <^ood shots have kWU^ , ^^'^ d«^ nor ever will do. ''''*' ^ «'" ^^^isfied no ,nan ever ke utter, i,i, ,,„,„,.„ -^'- ™ » S,„,,e, ,„ l„ „,„, , ';' «h°ot lh,s b,rd, is ,„ ,,„ =""':« II e ,„„,i fa-,,, „ .;?::::;?'■ '■^'»«» <■- 1: ;^Lrrt"'"■•""-'■*' The old school method w.s to • «tu/f, like taking a pU,,], of s„uff J """' ''"^ -" that ^--ng the gn, ^ J ,,^„ J ^^^ after a bird ri.cs and before ban-e led guns vvith flint lock" ^ ' '" ''"^^ "^ '^S, single! --'J knock over his doj^' L,,^^:;^ f^^ "^ the p. ^ ., f^ '" -'^'^ession, gcule reader-!",^ "^ ''^^''^ ^-' ^^^ shots-no, --P-nfuH, picking up hil h ^ "'^ '' ^'"^^ «^"- coach! q"-kest shot is the b^est^^ho;! "'"• ^-^--iW.., Je Another maxim of r? •;■» '•« do, „,,, „,,M',7:r„o?| °"'' :''" '•™° -"""' i». «.a, '■°7; m..o time, „,/, „f J" " l'«-l..".tn.! I„.|„,j j A>v„.™;,^, -I'^e would 1,0 tl,o .j,„,, „,- „„, -thebestdoo-sfn,. «5,„- -..e.-t„o b.;v: ti;:r;;'7 •"•^■^ ""■' ■■»■■ '■« -. «.r ;^«™' «"■ "-y u»e, sooi„„ ,,7, "*;"■""«■ -"1 ''« l„.oto„ J a* *s lis FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. i If they be staunch, and liave good noses, and back well, an i drop to shot, whore they are, without stin-ing from the spot, a nil without l)eing shouted at, they cannot be too fast ; and, if they will not do th(;se things, it matters not whether they be fust or slow — they are worthless. The most effective-sized shot for Snipe shooting is unquestion- ably No. 8. With coarser shot, the charge will be so much dispersed that so small a bird as the Snipe will constantly escape being hit, even when covered fairly ; with smaller, birds will continually be wounded only, within point blank distance ; and will frequently go away entirely unharmed. Farther than this, it is very rare to find a lever-topped belt or flask — which is by far the best implement for carrying shot — that will not suffer any shot smaller than No. 8 to escape, even when the spring is diAvn. Many English writers, I observe, recommend the use of two different sized kind of shot, one in either ban'el ; but this is, in my opinion, neither sportsmanlike nor effective. In all events, the barrels of a gun ought to be fired alternately ; otherwise, as five single shots are fired for one double, one ban'el will be worn out while the other is, comparatively speaking, new. My own experience has taught me that for all our Upland shooting, except that of the Pinnated Grouse, at all seasons of the year, No. 8 is the most effective shot. It will break the pinion of a Ruffed Grouse at fifty yards, and that is all that can be desired ; .md when fired from a close-shooting gun, properly brought to l)ear, will riddle its target thoroughly at the same distance. All that is gained in weight and power by the use of larger shot, is lost in the condensation of a charge. This will be easily under- stood when the reader is informed that an ounce of No. 8 shot contains six hundred grains, or pellets, while No. 7 contains but three hundred and forty-one; so that at the same distance, with the same gun, the chances are nearly as two to one in favor of hitting a small mark with No. 8 over the larger shot ; the greater the distance, the greater the advantage in this respect of the smaller pellets ; inasmuch as all shot are propelled on VPLAND SHOOTING. fliverginrr lines- nn,i ^^^ When Invch are very ;viM 1. ^'"""• I con-Ior an invention in gCo' t 'T "^^ ' ^''"^' -'"'^h I will state here briefly, fcr U " Ik f T"f °"'^ ^" P-c„.«io„. -n this .issile. that th; o "u!; "' 'l"^^ ^^•''" '-« "ot the charg^e, like a single ball fn ^""^'"'•'"co is to „,opel ;^- shot diverges as i„ a^o ;i I, ^r^^ ^''-^ '-^ and ^'re. in distance, is precisely tnt. l'^" ''"' ^-■"' ^i-- "f rokon. This diffirs in L M T ""^^ ^'" ^'''^^ '"^ '^'iven -'dges. blue, red, and green tT '"""""' ^"'''« "^ cert -^. except in fowLsh^r^ o 'tl'^ ''^^^ """^^ ^^ ^1 diff.ous, and on Upland daLerou T 1 ''"' '-'""^^ '^ P- common kind, will increase tlieTLor ''"' "■'"■^•'' '«''- "es« as in strength, ^ fifte," ^^ '' --T fe-". in close- from twenty to forty. The 1 « 7 '"'^^ ^"^' ''- -'^ powder, the .«., .J,^ wil eir art .7 ' ''" ^"'^""^^^ "'^'^ ;^'o is not cool eno:;rf:,7aC" T T^ ^'^^"^ --%«. ^-t.go away tvventy^ard befi^ '^''-'^ ^-« "P under hi cannot shoot well enough to kilfr/;"" '' ^""' «"'' -^^o «'ose carrying g., I "have sL sf "' T'""^ '^^^^^'^"'^'^ Q->1 - open ground, very lattt i?'' " ^""^ ^^''^•'' ^^^ "''ff- >n my fi.s,, ,„j red in ' se iT"' ""'' '"^ --■^ ^reat success. I would, however Tf ^'■"'' ""'^ ^'^^ ^^^^ ^d a blue cartridge. '' ^''^''' *''« »«« of loose shot With regard tn ,1,.^ -•'» walking i, c„„f„:i " ™' •"""'"*-.- fa, found any contrivance aucceed i„ t '"'"■ ' '""<= ""'er «"Se an, or heavy aplaaiWnl „;"'''"'' ""' *"' '''y^ f- <> idU KUANK FOUEaTER'S FIKLD SrOnTS. : ! !: i il' Indiiiu rubber is an abomination ; as, if it excludes water, 3t also excludes air, prevents ventilation, and enclosing all tlie exudations and transpirations of the pores, is equally uncom- fortable, unwiiolosomi!, and filthy. The moment boots are full of water, they are a dead weight, and of course a disadvan- tage ; I have, therefore, in all ordinary ground, long abandoned the attempt to keep dry ; and invariably use laced ancle boots of heavy cowhide, for all sorts of sporting. These may be worn either with short gaiters and trousers ; or, what I consider in every particular superior, and especially in the facility they give to movement in encumbered ground, or among brushwood and stumps, knee-breeches, and leathern leggins, buttoned on the outside. The breeches may be made of corduroy or fus- tian for spring and winter, of duck or drilling for summer shooting ; and, if made long and loose from the hij) to the knee, I believe no walker wlfo has once adopted them in this climate will ever return to heavy boots and trousers. If, however, the Snipe-shooter is determined on endeavoring to keep himself dry, he had better provide himself with long boots from Canada, which he can procure, perfectly water- proof and of excellent quality, of any maker in Montreal or Quebec, for eight dollars a pair ; whereas the same, not equal- ly well-made, would cost him double the price, in New- York. I will here, farther state, that Mr. Cullen, No. 119 Broad- way, New- York, is the only workman on this side the Atlantic, whom I know, that can turn out a real-working-shooting-boot or shoe. If you adopt my plan, reader mine, you must make up your mind to get wet through in five minutes after going out, and to roiitinue wet through, until your return home at night ; but be- lieve me, as in many other cases, ce n'est que le jitemler jias qui route, the first shock is all that you have to dread ; the water witliin the shoe immediately becomes warm, by contact with the foot, and you think no more about it, after five minutes ; while in a long day's fag the absence of the heavy, dragging i|i VPLANb SHOOTING. '"ggeu jack-l)oots wHl r^„i e.p, m,h „ ,„„„ p,„^ j^ ,,, • _;;«;<■■ cove, „„A, , ^,^ ^^^„_ Tl,p l,e,t water .lro.„„g ,-, e„u.n ^, T"'"'"' '"" ""^ •»""»■■■ '-7«MiNc, mekcl e„se,l,o,ri ,"'■■'""""■• '-l Vc,,ic„ *"'^ -I ff.a,l ,1,:° , ' ,"""■■«" l>il.) from tl.o habit of „,e Snipe ,,efo„ „ ''^"""°S'= "f '!"», arising «-.W.is...a..,,eJ.d'"^^\— r-^^^^^^^^^^^ 1 ■■■ '■! 1 H |l 152 FHANK FO^ESTEirs FIELD SPORTS. to the right or loft, afibrding much closor and easier sliots, than if we hunt tliom in the ordinary manner. I am aware that there id an objectiou to this, in the fact tliat the (lugs in some degree hxse tlio favor of the wind ; hut dogs, properly broken to this sport, should quarter their ground regu- larly befi)re you, working with their noses up-wiml, and cross- ing and recrossing at every forty or fifty yards, and will find no ditHculty in pointing such birds as will lie to them. It is wonderful how easily dogs, which are always shot over by the same man — he being one who knows his business — will learn to cross and requarter their ground, turning to the slight- est whistle, and following the least gesture of the hand. I have seen old dogs turn their heads to catch their master's eye, if they thought the whistle too long defened ; and I lately lost an old red Irish setter, which had been stone-deaf for his two last seasons, but which I found no more difficulty in turning than any other dog, so accurately did he know when to look for the signal. When u dog has once learned that it is by his master's will, and not by his own, that he is to beat his ground, it is extraor- dinary how eagerly he will consult, and how readily he will soon come to pei'ceivo, his pleasure. I have repeatedly tested the two modes of shooting Snipe, up and down wind ; and that with dogs of all kinds and conditions, and I have no hesitation in declaring my conviction, that by work- ing down-wind, especially in very wild and very windy weather, when birds lie the worst, one-third more shots may be got, and double the number of birds killed, than by giving your dogs, as it is called, the wind in their noses. In the latter mode, it is true, you will have your dogs continually drawing, and perhaps pointing, and will have the satisfaction of hearing the " scaipe, scaipc" of bird after bird, as he rises out of distance, and of seeing him zig-zagging it away up-wind, at a rate which sets even your blue cartridge at defiance. Beating down-wind, on the contrary, the birds, headed by yourself and your dog, are likely enough to get confused and ^'^AND SHOOTINO. t'otherod, and to Ho hard • , ^^'^ I' "- . very t r ""' "'"^ "■ -"«,u?„ 1 "" """ ''"^•• iackot, „ ; 7'"'""'' Il'«-.eived a J™ jl , f/T"""""^ <>" " '™-o.. /a*^i: :""?,;- -^ '.'.»; :;;:«:: ::r noon Avr. T,„ ^ 1 ""t' Jire one. Af .,k -. „ "unna- ' « person who. as he was 164 fhank fohester s field sports. ;i flattorinq onouj(h to say, did know something iibout Bliootlng, should be hucIi a flsit n» towlioot Siiipo down-wiml. In the even- ing he camo into the hnr-rooin, mid thoru found, fiiHt of all, that I had boiiteu him by Honio half-dozen birdti, which ho said he expected ; and, Hecondly, that it was for a reason, and not for the want of one, that I shot Snijie down-wind. Ho admitted ut once, that he saw tlnouu;h(»ut the day ihiit 1 was j,'elting morn and better shots than he, whereat ho niarvellod, sceiiiif ho knew himself better dogqed than I ; but that he still marvoUod why I should shoot down-wind. Ho was, however, open to convic- tion, and was, perhaps, not sorry at having a reason to give for being beaten. Double shots at Snipe are by no means uncommon — com- mor>cr, I think, than at any other sj)ecies of game — for although, as a general rule, the snipe is a solitary bird, both in his habits of flight and feeding, and acts independently of his neighbors, you will usually find numbers of them feeding nearly together, and rising nearly at the same time, because alarmed by the same sound. Under these circumstances, however, they do not usu- ally fly olf togethei", like a bevy of quail, or a plump of wild fowl, but scatter, each at his own will. Now as the wildest birds always spring first, it oflen happens that your discharge, at a long shot, flushes another much nearer by ; I therefore strongly urge it on beginners to be a little patient, and not to blaze away hotk barrels in succession at the same bird, or even at two birds, nearly out of distance, since by doing so they will very oflen lose a good chance of bagging a bird close at hand. It is, moreover, a very absurd and unsportsmanlike practice to fire at Snipe out of shot, yet it is a very common one. The Snipe is a very small bird, and offers, particularly when flying directly from the shooter, an inconceivably small target. It is not possible that one can be killed, with anything like certainty, at above fifty yards, — I name an extreme limit. Now, in ordi- nary weather, the odds are about three to one, that a bird flushed, and not uselessly shot at, at this distance, will alight again with- in three or four hundred yards, or upward, and perhaps afford " *f°"^ '^'^r^co, „n.I lie ton.- ' ^^5 matter Tt T ^''"^^y "ko ita^^ " S.bl ""• T' '""' "■«» of -« Wn,„ri of. „ " 3, «- S--0"nd U quite'dtw T"'" I'e nearly ,ur„ ,„ » , ' *• PooI, or i/,e 1,L , o"lofa„j, "0"t olZ'l ,"'■'''"'« ■««. b^iMinri't"''^™ "'I I 156 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. which it has fallen ; and I have found it a good plan, on step- ping up after loading to look for your game, to drop your hat, or liuiulkerchief, on that wliicli you conceive to be the exact spot ; otherwise, while looking round among the grass, it is not uncommon to lose the direction altogether. In covert sliooting, in marking a bird, wliether shot at or not, which flies behind a brake, imjjervious to the sight, cast your eye quickly forward to tlie next opening, a little above the line of the bird's flight, if lie is rising, or below, if dropping on the wing, to make sure that he does not pass it. If a killed bird is hidden from you by the smoke of your own fire, and you perceive by the stream of fea- thers that he is dead, allow a little for the speed and direction of his flight, which, if he was going fast when struck, will often throw him many feet forwanl of the spot where the shot smote him. The shot itself, if close by and hard hit, will at times pitch him a yard or two out of his course. A Snipe will sometimes, but not generally, carry away a jroocl many shot; but when he does so, if marked down, he almost in- variably rises again. Neither honor his congener, the Wood- cock, is in the habit — so common with the Quail, and sometimes with the Ruffed Grouse — of flying away with his death-wound and dying befoi'e ho ffil!s. A Quail or Grouse, shot through the heart, or through the brain, Avill constantly tower, as it is termed, directly up into the mid-air, with a perpendicular flight, and quick beating of the wings, which are kept up till he vital spark leaves the bird literally in the air, when it turns over on its back, and falls like a stone. In windy weather many Quail are lost thus, drifting out of reach ; but I 7icvcr saw this occur with a Woodcock, and never but once with a Snipe, which then only flirted up a few feet, with an expiring eff'ort. When, therefore, a Snipe goes away hard hit, mark him care- fully, and approach the spot stealthily, — it is all a toss-up whe- tlier he lies like a stone, or whirls up at sixty paces, when he hears you coming. But however hard he may lie, never relax your watchfulness, or put your gun under your arm, or over your shouldei", till he is bagged. I have seen a crippled bird UPLAND SHOOTING "'^'•'^«'f' to a square varrJ . ' ^^"^ '""' >l.oi.-,l„gs alternate „, "," ""«' "'o "Pon^anC! ^'-f".:s?:^i;;:r-^- ""»* »".I «.<• .„g„„L, will T !:; "'"y'' ""J "'•customed „ »>' on l„„„i„^, ,,,.3 „ ™ ly .ojethe,, If e,,,, „„„ ?. °"o"?!' for two men. W ° "■"'""' ^•"' " 1"«« "f *■„, °" ,t':^"''"° »' ''".. by «.. : 1, e,.'T''^'- ---'» - ;,n" "ear to nllo.v the dog. to ^ ," 1 f "'"•^'■~'">^ »ot sufficien TJ^e difficulty of itt 1 ' '""™^" >'•''""«• ^ I' .11* i i M ii ' r .1 158 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. charging ; tliat one insists on his dog pointing his dead birds before fetcliing them ; another suffers his to go on and fetcli as soon as ho has loaded ; and yet a third takes no heed at all, but suffers his brute to rush in as soon as the gun is discharged. Tiio last is, of course, a barbarism, to which no one worthy of being called a sportsman will resort ; the others are still held to bo mooted points ; and there are sportsmen who hold to both I do not myself admit any doubt on the subject ; nor do I esteem any dog broken, which does not drop to charge, at the report, without stimng from the place, — which does not lie at charge, until ordered to " hold up," and which docs not point his dead game, until desired to " fetch." Still, so long as diversity of opinion exists on these points, and dogs are broken according to the good or bad judgment of owners and breakers, different animals cannot be expected to hunt harmoniously together ; and so unfortunate is the propensity both of men and beasts to learn evil more easily than good knowledge, that two or three days' companionship with a rash, headstrong, rushing brute, will, it is likely, play the very deuce with your carefully broken dogs, and cause them to contract tricks, which it will cost you much pains and trouble to eradicate. It is so very common an occurrence, while in pursuit of spring Snipe, to find different kinds of Wild Duck, particularly the two varieties of Teal, the Wood Duck, the Mallard, and the Pintail, that it is well worth the while to cany a few red car- tridijes of No. 1 or No. 2 shot, — Col. Hawker obseiTinar of these missiles, " that for a wild open country, or shooting by day at wild fowl, he cannot say too much in their favor in their present improved state." It is scarcely necessary to state here, that when two persons are shooting in company, neither must on any account think of firing at a bird which, however fairly it may rise to himself, flies across his companion. Each sportsman should take the bird which flies outwardly from the common centre ; by doing which he will not only avoid the incivility of shooting across his friend's face, but will, in the long run, bring many more birds ^^^AND S,IOOTmG. '"S: across a comn ' ""'^ ^'o ^nish f.. , • ^^« genuine ;„_ '""' '"^^ «"co. ..,;,,. ^"''' oven in ",' ^ "''"^" ^'" '''Iwnys .iv ^''^^ ^' ^«nds to 11 ^, ''^^ P^«^-^^-- of ,,] '^^ ':-«"'«fe- gained ^"^■cessive d^v, ",''"«'' on the meadn„. '' "" '''« 'a^-e "'■^^ ^'-- fe"1- '" ^'"^^-^ ^--"0?: "7"-^-«. -d t '"•--'. in haunts ail^T' ^'"^^ ^'^ '^o 0 ^/'-^f -ts to ba- S^-""d- So soon t'T"- '^^■«'-«« fi, r ' "' ' '"^" '-^--e '''^ ^""nd at an or' "'"•^' «« " '"« eviden r'' ^-"'"'ff ^J^i'-^s of the nea OS " '"'^ >'"«'• atte 1 "'"'"'•«' "" fho ^-•".-plantation I ""'^'''^"^«' ""^ler s " 'T^"'^^^' ^'> ''- •" «''on. Wherever thT^^ "''"^^^' «'J-. an ti/"'^"'''^ •>^ ^-•^-^ly sheltered „? " '"^'^ -« «Prin' ?''"'"' ""'^• shrubbery. ""' '^"'^ Protected fr^^ ,,"^^ !^^,'''"ff ground. vot. I. "^^nd by trots or 13 160 FRANK FOP.ESTEI! S FIELD SPOUTS. I first ol)scrved this habit of the American Snipe, which is ijt- terly at variance with tlie Ivabitof its Enropean congener, at the English Neighborhood, on the Haekensack River, where, by- mere accident, I stumbled on a number of birds in the cow- patha, among thick brushwood, far above the salt meadows, to- ward the Upland, I next found them in similar ground on a very wild day, at the end of March, or the beginning of April, on the Long Meadow at Pine Brook. On that occasion the birds were all busily employed in drumming, — a habit of the Snipe, as it is generally stated by naturalists, during the breed- ing season. I have myself, however, never witnessed it, except immediately on their arrival in this district, long before they had even begun to pair. The habit is, however, clearly connected with their nuptial and vernal propensities, and probably conti- nues from the commencement of th* Ir sexual intercourse, to the end of their incubation. It is performed, I believe, solely by the male bird, which rises in the air till he is almost out of sight, where he disports him for hours in mjd ether, sailing round and round in small circles, and at limes letting himself fall, fifty feet or more, plumb down, before he again sails on his wing. It is during these perpendicular descents, that this strange, powerful, and musical hum is uttered, — it is comparai)le to no other sound that I can name, and must be heard to be conceived. It is very pleasing and sonorous, and may be distinguished at a great dis- tance. Once heard, it can be mistaken for no other noise, made by either bird or beast, — nor will the sportsman be apt to for- get it, as it is to him strangely ill-omened ; for, while it is going on, birds will rarely or never suffer themselves to be approached within gunshot, — rising, as soon as flushed, spirally into the air, each seeming to call up another by the sound, and sporting to- gether aloft, " whirling round each other," to borrow the elo- quent language of Mr. Audubon, " with extreme velocity, and dancing as it were to their own music ; for at this juncture, and during the space of five or six minutes, you hear rolling notes mingling together, each more or less distinct, perhaps according to the state of the atmosphere." I was surprised to find that ' UPLAND SHOOTING. 161 Mr. Audubon here states his doubts, whether this sound is pro- duced by the feathers of the wing, — or rather almost asserts his conviction that it is voiitriloqous. I have lain on the turf for hours, watching them when in this mood, and .when all fartlier attempt at pursuit of thom wouM Imve been useless, and have observed their motions with a good glass. I am myself satis- fied that the sound is produced by the fact, that the bird, by some muscular action or other, turns the quill-feathers edgewise, as he drops plumb through the air ; and that, wliile in this posi- tion, during his accelerated descent, the vibration of the feathers, and tlie passage of the air between them, gives utterance to this wild humming sound. Such likewise is the account given by European naturalists of the same sound which is produced by the Snipe there at the same vernal period ; they mention, moreover, a peculiar cry of the male bird at this season, difierent from his shrill squeak, on being flushed, which is precisely identical in the American and European species — this they describe as resembling the word " Pfct." thrice repeated in a shrill whistle. This I never have noticed in the American birds ; but, on two different occasions, when the birds were at the very wildest, drumming away for hours at a stretch, and not giving even a chance of a shot, I have observed another cry, which I cannot find recorded either by Wilson or Audubon, any more than the practice, by which it is accompanied, of alighting on fences, stumps, and even on tall tree-tops. This cry is a sharp, reiterated chatter, consisting of a quick, jarring repetition of the syllables, kr/{-kek-/cc7:-/cek-/cfJc, many times in succession, with a rising and falling inflection, like that of a hen which hus just laid an egrr. This singular sound is uttered as the bird is descending from its gyrations and musical performances ; and, after having descended, while it is skim- ming low over the surface of the bog meadows, previous to alighting. While in this humor, I have never seen them alight directly into the grass, but have invariably observed them to set- tle first on the stump of a dead tree, or on a rail fence, and i i {.nil M h 1G2 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS '.' f\ thereafter drop into the rushes. On both of these occasions, the l)ir(ls hqhted many times o)j tlio very topmost branches of the willows, and other trees, which lined the fences ; and on one oc- casion, 1 saw a, Snipe take flight fiom a branch, rise upward, and resume his drumming, without first returning to the level ground. On the day when I first witnessed these performances, which astonished me, I confess, little less than it would have done had they begun to sing " God save the King," or " Hail Columbia," which would perhaps have been more appropriate — I observod that when, at length, they ceased diiimming, wiiich they did as the day grew hotter, they all flew off in one direction, toward some meadows oven'un with brakes, cat-briars, brambles and thorn bushes ; and herein I had good sport with them for seve- ral hours, after having despaired, in the morning, of getting a shot at all. Since that time, I have repeatedly found them in similar ground at Chatham, yet higher up on the course of the Passaic, where there is a great deal of covert of that particular nature- low stunted bushes, and briar patches, growing in boggy, springy ground. So notoriously is it the case that Snipe, on their first coming, there frequent such localities, whenever the weather is not moi-e than commonly warm and genial, that it is the habit of many old sportsmen to beat for them regularly in such places, without trying the meadows at all, on their first an-ival. I have killed hundreds of couples in such places ; and have put up scores, at a small enumeration, of Woodcock, tJten .sitting on their eggs, from the self-same coverts at the same time. Indeed, the same brakes, a little later in the season, aff"ord the very best cock-shooting. Once, and once only, at the same place, Chat- ham, during a snow-squall, I shot several couple of Snipe in a very thick piece of swampy woodland, among tall timber-trees with heavy undercovert — precisely what one wopM ca.'i admi- rable summer Cock-ground — the Snipe flew in and out of the brakes, and thridded the branches, as rapidly as Quail or Cock would have done, in similar thickets. What has happened UPLAND SnOOTlNO. 103 ^ once, especially in the ways of animals, is like to occur again ; and 1 should not hesitate, when there was no tract of low springy underwood near at hand to Snipe meadows, to beat high wet woodlands for this bird, during the permanence of cold storms and violent winds, sufficient to drive them from the open fields. At all events, let the sportsman remember that in the Middle and Eastern States, bushy ground, briar-patches, alder and willow brakes, and tlu; like, are as regular haunts of Snipe in spring, as bog tussocks or marshy meadows ; and that there is no more j)ropriety in his omitting to try such ground for them, than there would be in neglecting to beat thickets and dingles for Quail, because they ordinarily feed on stubbles. While I am mentioning the peculiar habits of the American Snipe, such more particularly as it is not generally known to possess, I may observe that although not web-footed, or even semi-palmated, this little bird swims jupidly and boldly. I was previously aware that, on falling wing-tipped into the water, it was able to support itself, and even to sti'uggle away from a dog ; but I had no idea that it would take the water of its own accord, till I was a witness to the fact under rather singular circumstances. I was standing still, loading my gun, both l)ar- rels of which I had just discharged, on the brink of a broad epring-fed ditch wliich runs along the lower side of the Long Meadow, when a bird, flushed by a friend at some distance, flew over my head and dropped within ten feet of me, on a spot of bare black soil, between two or three large grassy tus- socks, and the ditch. I had never, at that time, observed tiie natural motions of the Snipe, when unalarmed ; and I stood watching him, for some time, as he walked gracefully to and fro, and stooped down once or twice and bored in the mud, oringing up each time a small red angle-worm in his bill, utterly unconscious of my presence. After a minute or two, he delib- erately entered the ditch, and oared himself across it, as easily and for more gracefully than any water-fowl could have done. I have since regretted, that I did not show myself at this mo- ment, in order that I might liave ascertained whether it pos- ' ''iU ''' 1 I ! !!• 164 FRANK FOKKSTKIl'a FIELD SPORTS. sussed the power of taking wing from tlie surface of watei, which I am greatly inclined to doubt. I was well aware pre- viously of the fact, that many of the Shore-birds and Sand- pipers swim on emergency, but I little suspected the Snipe of possessing the like power. I know not that tiie being acquainted with this habit of the Snipe can materially aid the sportsman ; but, in case of dogs drawing on the trail of birds, which had run and fed, up to a brt»ok-sido, or on the foot of a wing-tij)ped bird, I should now certainly try forward, across the water, wliich I should not pre- viously have done. I'iie peculiarities of cry, flight, and perching, which I have related above, are well known to many of our sportsmen here ; and I can readily produce half-a-dozen witnesses to the various facts I have stated, within a dozen miles of the room in which I am now writing ; as well as to the bird's occasional habit of resorting to the interior of woods, which Mr. Audubon positive- ly asserts that he ncrer does. By the way, since penning the above, it just strikes me that in the S})ring of IS 10, when the snow was not entirely off the Uplands, in shooting with a friend from Quebec, we moved three Snipe from a little piece of white-birch woodland, one of which was shot by my companion, and retrieved by my setter in the bushes, and a second of which I killed over a point in the next field, not very far from Lorette. I am inclined to believe all these habits to be purely local, as concerns the American bird. Not local, owing to any peculiar circumstance of the place, but of the seasons in which the bird visits or frequents the places. In other words, I sup- jjose them all to be coimected with the amorous and sexual intercourse of the birds, and to commence and terminate with the breeding season. In the summer, when I have shot a few young birds during Cock-shooting, and in the autumn when I have killed live times as many as I have in spring, I never heard any cry from the Snipe except the regular " scaipe ;" noi have I ever seen I 'I .; ■,'ll UPLANn SIIOOTINf,. 100 i it manifest tiie slightest inclination to alight on fence, rail, log or tree. I therefore, suppose these habits to he, like drumniing, peculiar to the season, and analogous to the circling and strut- ting of Doves, the fan-tailing of Peacocks, and the like. I should he curious to leani, however, from my Southern liic iids, who kill them during the winter in far greater innuhers on their Georgia and Carolina rice fields than we can pretend to do on our barren hog meadows, whether they are ever known there either to take to woodland coverts, or to tree. The English Snipe, I am certain, wc/vr does either, both from my own experience, and from the f)bservatioii of many oliler and better sportsmen than myself. I have shot the I'^nglish bird constantly, and for several successive springs, in th(> fi-ns of Cambridge and Norfolk ; and I have heard him dnnn there more frequently than I have here, but I never heard him chat- ter, or saw him take the tree ; and 1 am certain that he never does so. AVhilp speaking on this subject I must observe, again re- spectfully difl'ering from Mr. Audubon, who asserts tliat " there is as great a difference between the notes of the English and American species of Snipe, as there is between the American Crow and the Carrion Crow of Euro))e," that in my o])inion the cry of the two Snipes is in-rfict}}! itlcnticul ; and in this view I am corroborated by the judgment of several English sportsmen, with whom I have habitually shot for mjiny seasons here, and who, like myself, had killed Hundreds of coujjIcs of Snipe, before visiting America. The number of feathers in the tail of the European and American sjiecies differs ; and I am nearly certain that the English bird is somewhat larger and heavier — Wilson, who first distinguished the two sjkhmi's, noti- ces the difference in size — but otherwise in appearance, and in all their ordinary habits, they are identical. I lay, how- ever, great stress on the diflerence of note, in tlie breedintr season, and in the other peculiarities alluded to, as setting the question of variety on a much broader and more distinct base, 1 il ' i i : I IG6 FRANK FORESTEK'S FIELD SPOKTS. than tho distinction between sixteen and fourteen tail-foatliers, and an inch more or loss in length. Until I saw tho American Snipe perch in tall trees, and heard them cackle like laying I'ullets, I regarded the d'fl'er- ence between tho species as merely nominal. Every day since that time I have more clearly discorned its reality ; and have in coiisecjuence learned to look for them, and find them too, where I .should as soon have thought of hunting for an Ostrich as for a Snipe, in Englaml. With regard to the hal)its of tho bird in summer, I Iniow lit- tle ; but that little is enough to enable nie to say thnt they are in no wise diHereut from his autumnal customs. Tho Snipe returns to Lower Canuda, from the northward, with tho young birds full fledged in July, and is at that time, and until driven away by the frost, shot in immense numbers on the marshes at Chateau Richer, at (ioose Island, and hundreds of other places down the St. Lawrence. Along both shores of the Great Northern Lakes they abound, at the san.n lime, or a little later; and accordingly as the season sets in early or late, so do they regulate their arrival with, and departure from, us. The earli- est period at which I have ever killed migratory Snipe, birds 1 mean not bred here, is the 12th of September; when, in 1842, I bagged fourteen couple and a-half in a deep bog-meadow at Chatham. The latest day, on which I have shot them is the 9th of November, at Pine Brook. I have been assured, how- ever, by an excellent sportsman, on whose word I can fully rely, that he has killed them on a spring brook, in which the water never freezes in the hardest weather, daily, until the 19th of December. This was in Orange county, moreover, where the frost sets in at least a fortnight earlier than it does below the Highlands of the Hudson. The same gentleman, some years since, killed thirty-five Woodcock on the 13th day of December; a circumstance, so far as my knowledge goes, unparalleled in this region. There is, however, no possible butter — a tliiii sHro of crisp butterod toast Hlioiild 1)0 laid uiid».'r tiiom vvliilo cooliiiiy, to catcli the gravy and trail, if it cliaiico to fall out ; and this h to bo served up under tliom, wlion dinhod for the table. Any made gravy or sauco is an abominatitin ; and tlio |iiii('tice of blanltcting tlio birds vvliilo roasting in slips of fat bacon should bo liold tho death-warrant of any cook, in a well regulated family. A littlo salt, and bread f/uan(um .v////! may bo eaten with him ; and a glass — or if you please bottle — of chamboilin drank with him — but, as you live, eschew sauces, vegetables, or — small beer ! More people, I believe, know better liow to kill a Snipe tccirndum artcin, than how to cook him deccntli/, or eat him grao'/uUif, when slain. It becomes the sportsman to shine in both capacities ; and, though myself I partake a little too much of the true Spaniel's ([uality to care much about eating game, I should at least have him oaten, if eaten he must bo, as a dish for gods, not as a carcase for hounds. iidi-r ;'e to shed tioii ; slips ill ii s„Jf\ lOttio :liow uiipo him no in much ;ame, , dish I } :i« • : •! il H . • ; i li; v''-'4lft V ■ 'i''>i I ►Sl.U.' ■.u '.:■ \ /,.,,.,.r- ••. ,, .. 4 \ ■■■'■' ■ ,■ , sr..l ' -(■r*'-:-.-.1| rciii'v;; 'V mKu :i!!'! • 'f'Mi ;n ■; '!iilii V.-. I i;;i; . a' '■"'^'' ? - ' ■.) Mi(^ ■ni'.lll;''!'.' ■•!':'. H" •• • !' -.UC •• X,u-V *! ,1. lllC ,!„'■! i|ii' -^'iiM' '■' 'I! I'll. imI' cu, ''ir- 1 !; !■ rnii< i-'i' I' li [i; 'ill' i''-ui:>i n-l '111' !><:t.i- • ''i\ '11 kJ .k il'.l'i'''.-' " ' I t line I ■ \ii/ ■ 1 > ifi I-;. l.iiiT ■t liiv. ' liIrtM: I'l 'i\i' ,.ir C11.. :g.) I m \m\ i i; "Ti.'-';| ill vail! n -H,.! ■^WM WW •#' -•t L ti'LANi) s::;)oTl\o. lb.) SUMMER WOODCOCK SHOOTING. !■ ■,:i HE wisdom of oar seeks his food; by iiiglit he makes his Idii'j; i'iikI direct inigrations, clioosiiig for tliis latter puipose f ig'^ry woiither, at or iiliout tlic full of the moon. By day ho lies snugly ensconced in some lonely brake, among long gniss and fern, under the shade of the dark alder or the silvery wilhtw, and neiir to souk; marshy level, or muddy streamh't's l)rink during the summer; but, in the autumn, on some dry westering hill-side, clothed with dense second-growth and saplings. In very quiet spots, especially where the covert overhead is dense and shadowy, he sometimes feeds by day ; and it has been my fortune once or twict; to come uj)on him unsuspected when so engaged, and to watch him for many minutes probing the soft loam, which he loves the best, with his long bill, and drawing forth his succulent food, fiom the smallest red wire- worm to the largest lob-worm, suitable for the angler's bait when fishing for Perch or the Yellow Bass of the Lakes. It is by the abundance of this food that his selection of haunts is dictated, and his choice of seasons, in some considerable de- gree, controlled. On sandy and hungry soils, as of Long Lsland, for example, he is found rarely in comparison, and never in the large congregations which so rejoice the heart of the sportsman in more favored localities. Still more does he eschew soui mansli land and peat bogs, wherein, by the way, the worm he most affects hardly exists; while on fat loamy bottom lands, whether the color of the soil be red or black, rich with decom- posed vegetable matter, he may be found in swarms. It must be understood, however, that after the young brood have left the parent birds, which departure occurs after the first rioult, the Woodcock is a solitary bird, acting and moving for liimsclf alone, although the same causes may draw hundreds of them to one neighborhood, and never flying in flocks or associa- ting in anywise with his fellows, ujitil the commencement of the breeding season. At this period of the year, from July I mean, to the begin iiing of the moult, when the bird disappears from among ua for ' I 1 UPLAND SIIOOTINf!. 177 ,( 'M i i a while, the ynunuf broods aro found on the ground in which they are bred. And fhcro is sciirccly nny sort of gi-ound, in which the aoil consists of bliick vogctablo mould, or rich lonm of any kind, and in wliich tlioro is ji siiflicicncy of water, that is not conge- nial to liim as a breeding ])la('e — I except always the depths of tiie primeval fore? swampy bogs and morasses on flu; t()|w of the high- est hills ; but the favorite breedijig ground of the bird is un- doubtedly level marsh meadows, interspersed with clumps and thickets of willow and alder, maple groves, growing on swampy land, and warm sefpiestered vallics. In South- West Jersey, they are found in the gieatest al>an- dance on perfectly f)pen meadows, among bog grass and nishes, in exactly what would usually be called admirable Snipe- grotuid ; and I have killed them in the neighborhood of Salem, in considerable numbers, where there was nol a tree or bush within half a mile. This approximation of habits between tlie two kindred species, of Snipe and Woodcock, is very curious and interesting — the former bird, as we have seen above, under certain circumstances and in peculiar districts, betaking himself to the wooded haunts of his nearest blood relation, and the lat- ter, when in a treeless country, making himself at home among marshy levels better adapted to the general habits of his cousin. On no ground, however, have I ever seen, or shall I, I much fear, ever again see this bird in such multitudes, as on what are called the "Drowned Lands" in Orange county, N. Y. These are a vast tract of level country, surrounding the various branch- es and tributary streams of the Walkill — it extends many miles in length, and contains every sort of lying — tall open groves, impenetrable fastnesses of brake and thicket, wide readies of perfectly ojjen bog-meadow, and a* wide expanses of oi)en t i 178 FRANK I'OUESTKIl S KIELD til'ullTS. plain, covprnd witli licli, tomlcr griiHs, niul ititciMpoiHcd at every fow puot'H witli briikes of aldrr.s, iiiul willow liiislios. Tlit' iiiiin- bois I liavo Hi'cii, on that jf round, are iruri!(lil)U!. In 18)0 I Hliot over if, accompanii'd by my friend, Mr. Ward, of Warwick, who then weighed above three hundred pounds, and mIioI with u single-l)arrelled Westley Richard's gun ; and, in three buccch- sive days, wo bagged fit>y-scven, srvcnty-nine and nini'ty-eiglit Cock, over a Hingle brace of dogs, not beginning to slioot until it was lato in the morning. On tlie following year, with ii friend from New- York, I sliot on the same ground all day the first, and imtil noon on the second ; bagging, on the first, one hundred and twenty-five birds, and, on the second morning, 8(!V(!nty. The first of these days was intensely hot ; and tlio ground became so much foiled by running of the innumerable birds, that, altliough wo liad excellent retrievers, we lost, beyond doubt, forty or fifty birds ; and at four in tlie afternoon we were entirely out of ammunition. I am perfectly satisfied that, if we had been provided with a brace of fresh dogs, at noon, with clean guns, and a proper sup- ply of powder and copper caps, both of whicli gave out, it would have been perfectly easy, on that day to have bagged from one hundred, to one hundred and fifty couple of Wood cock. The shooting on that ground is now ended. The Erie rail- road passes witliin ten miles of it, and it is now overrun with city poachers and pot-hunters ; besides being shot incessantly by the farmers' boys and village idlers of the neighborhood whf) have begun to compete with the New York vagabonds ir supplying the markets with game. I confess that I have often wondered that the owners of these tracts have not had the shrewdness to discover that by enforcing the laws, and prohibiting trespassers, they might annually let the shooting of these ranges for very ccmsiderable sums. " The Drowned Lands " are in general held in large farms, and the best shooting is all owned, comparatively speaking, by a very few individuals. I have not the slightest hesitation in saying that V i ' t V CPLANn SIIOOTINO. 179 if sf»mo Imlf-dozen or eight fiiimora, whose Innd I kridw, would rosohitely put an end to nil shooting on their premises, they could rcndily let the right of shooting to an ussociation of gen- tlemen, at a prieo which would put a hundred dollars annually into each of their pockets. I could find the gentlemen who would give it, nnd he hut too gliid of the opportunity ; and who, htoking forward to enjoy- ment of the same sport in future years, would neither wantonly annihilate the stock, nor do the mischief to the grass crops, and fences, which continually results from the incursions of tho loafers and vngahorls, who compose the great hulk of rural sportsmen. I really should greatly rejoice at seeing something of this soit attempted. Its effect would he most beneficial on the preservation of game generally throughout the L'nited States. At the beginning of the Woodcock season, l(» revert to things as they now are, it is an easy matter to find birds, if you are in a good country ; and in truth, except in tho immediate vicinity of the large cities, there is »io difficulty in finding broods enough to amuse a few leis\ne houis ; although it is daily becoming more and more questionable whether it is worth the while of dwellers in the Atlantic cities, to keep dogs for the purpose of Cock-shootuM^, and to make excursions some fifty or sixty miles inland for sport during the season. A due regard to truth compels mt to say that such excursions have ceased to be what they w 'ic, " conxule Flavco," when General Jackson was first Piesident ; yet farther inland there are doubtless still places to be found abounding with the tribe of Sco/opax; althousjh fn.m the " IJig Piece," and the "Little Piece," from Chatham and the " Drowned Lands," the glory of his house has, for the most j)art, departed. In July, then, there is ordinarily but little skill to be dis- played in the mere act of finding the birds, fi)r there is nothing to be done but to beat the ground carefully, thoroughly and slowly, whorcvor there is water and covert. Unless the brood of the season has been annihilated already, or the ground so Mil 1] t i'i. : 180 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. persecuted in past seasons as to have been entirely deserted by tlie breeders, here they must be found. In this country Woodcock are shot altogether over Setters or Pointers — during tJie whole sixteen years, which I have passed in the States, 1 1 ave known but two sportsmen who used the Cocking Spaniel, 1 hough that is unquestionably the proper dog over which to iihoot the bird — and it is obvious that there are many objections to be made to these, in their places, noble animals, as used for covert-shooting. The proper sphere for both Pointer and Set- ter is the ojien — the wide, waving, heathery moors, the grassy Snipe-bog, the rich russet stubbles, from which the haiTcsts have been carnered to the farmer's heart-content. To ranire as wide, as highly, and as dashingly as they can, is their proper vocation, and their highest merit. To work fairly and in full view of their master and of one another, giving plentiful note of the vicinity of game by their actions to the eye, but none to the ear, is the province for which nature destined them, as all their qualities demonstrate. In order to suit them for wood-shooting at all, one of these qualities has necessarily to be drilled out of them, by early and incessant rating, watching and admonition — I mean their speed, range and dash. The highest merit a thorough-bred and thoroughly-broke Setter or Pointer can possess in Europe, on his proper ground, and in pursuit of his proper game, is never, unless he be at a dead point, or down to charge, to be within five hundred yards of his master, always beating his ground, head up and stem down, at full gallop. Here in covert at least, where nine-tenths of his work is done, his highest merit is never to be twenty yards distant from him. He must unlearn his own nature, and acquire that of the Spaniel ; in so far, at least, as to substitute unwearied industry, short, continually-succeeding turns, and the closest possible quarteiing of the ground, for his natural rating gallop. His eye must be constantly on his master, his ear ever alive to his slightest whistle, which he must obey with the speed of UPLAND SHOOTING. 181 ■ lij^ht. He must be prepared to back his fellow, oftener at the word " Tolio!" than at sight of his point ; for so difficult is the covert in which his duty is done, that I have more than once seen three several dogs standing witliin a square of six yards, on one bird, not one of which suspected his comrade's presence. Again, he must be bntke to drop where he is when the shot is discharged, instantaneously, and to lie there until commanded to " Seek dead ;" when he must draw up t(j the killed bird, point it, and at the word " Fetch," perform the duty of a retriever. This it is, which makes a really fine, and thoroughly broke, Woodcock dog so nearly invaluable. Shooting as we do in this country in thickets overrun with vines, creepers, and cat-briars, to which the densest cop- pice or covert I ever have seen in England, was open-work, and that too, when every tree, plant and shrub is covered with its most luxuriant summer foliage, it is evident that a dog cannot be visible half the time at a distance of ten paces ; and that it is only by his keeping in constant mtjtion to and fro, close before us, that we can in the least make out his where- about. As it Is, with the best broke dogs, it is a common thing to lose them altogether, though perhaps but fifteen yards off, when pointing steadily, and to be compelled either to call them off", or to waste half the day in looking for them. Another great difficulty in summer Cock-shooting, over Setters, is this, that when the bird is pointed, as he almost universally is, from the outside of a brake inward, it is almost impossible to get a fair shot at him, uidess you do so unsports- manlike a thing as to hie your dog on, and make liim flush his own bird. This cannot be done with impunity for any length of time, even with the best and steadiest dogs ; for when once they have become used to this irregular mode of proceedin"-, although they may stand stock still, and shew as staunchly as possible, under their master's eye, until desired to "hie on!" no sooner will they find themselves pointing out of sight, than they will follow what is surely the bent of their natural instinct, I I ; 182 FRANK FORESTEK S FIELD SPORTS. kept down by painful instruction, and will dash in and flush tiieir game. When shooting in company, as one always should do, if pos- sible, especially in July, I have always made it a point, when the dogs were standing, so as to render it likely that the shot would be a ticklish one, to call up my comrade, — birds lie hai"d in summer, and a word or two, more or less, will not (lush them, — to place him in the most commanding position, and then plunge into the brake, taking my chance for a snap shot, and up with the bird myse!f. Having always kept dogs, and having shot principally with friends who did not, it has always been my luck to have the gamekeeper's work, and to be forced to drive through the thick of the tangle, while the others could pick their way along tlic outskirts, and get open shots. Somehow or other, however, I have generally managed to get about as many shots, and perhaps to bag about as many birds as my neighbors ; and, in process of time, I have got into the way of liking the rough- and-tumble inside-of-the-covert work. You see more of the dogs' working, and get more, if harder, shots ; and, above all, you acquire what is the knack of covert-shooting, the knack of tossing up your gun instinctively to your shoulder, and stopping your biid in the most tangled thicket, without knowing how you shot him, or whether you saw him at all when you fired, the in- stant you hear a flap of his wing. Even when alone, I invariably flush my own bird, never order- ing my dog to go on, even at the risk of losing a shot ; though the chances are, that you can generally mark the bird down to- lerably well. In this matter I never vary, and I do most strenu- ously urge it upon all sportsmen, who would have good dogs, and good sport, to neglect and sacrifice all individual shots, all individual, ciippled, or killed birds, rather than do a wrong thing tliemselves before their dogs, or allow them to do a wrong thing uncorrected. By running in to catch one wing-tipped bird, racing away from your dogs, or by encouraging them to run in and fetch, before you have loaded, you will lose, in all probabiRty, fifty UPLAND SHOOTING. 183 birds, — ^by your setter getting into the way of dashing into the midst of scattered bevies, and Hushing them all, one by one, while you are standing with your unloaded gun in your liand, roaring down-charge, and uttering, if you are a little quick- tempered, all sorts of imprecations against your poor dog, which, if at all just, you would fulminate against yourself. No- thing is more annoying to me, than to bo joined by some coun- try gunner in the field, who, utterly unconscious of wrong, per- sists in doing things which make your own hair stand on end, and compels you to Hog the unhappy quadrujjcds for the faults of the stupid biped. While speaking on this subject, 1 will quote an obsei"vation which I met with the other day, in a ciipi'^al book, by a right good sportsman, entitled — the book, not the man — " The Moor and the Loch." The truth and force of the remark sti-uck me the moment I read it ; and, although it is not new to the accom- plished sportsman, or old dog-breaker, I think I have never seen it in print before ; and I am sure I have seen the fault it repre- hends committed a hundred times. The writer is sjieaking of " the inveterate habit, contracted through bad breaking, of running in when the bird drops. This trick is acquired from the breaker's carelcssnes , in not always making the dog fall down when birds rise, a rule which should never be neglected, on any pretence." Mr. Colquhoun here means, that the dog should be taught to charge, on the bird ris- ing, whether shot at, or not ; and unquestionably he is right in the matter. " The stcaditms of a dog," he proceeds, " whethtt old or l/oung, depends entirely upon its being rigidly observed. 1 have seen dogs most unmercifully flogged, and yet bolt with the same eagerness every shot. It is easy to see the reason ; the do"- was followed by the keeper endeavoring to make him * down' ; there was thus a race between them, which should first reach the fallen bird. The plan to adopt with a dog of this de- scription, is when the Grouse," or other game, " drops, and the dog ruslies forward, never to stir, — coolly allow him to tear away at the game until you have loaded ; by which time he 184 FKANK FORESTER S FIELD SPOIiTS. I i will most probably have become ashamed of himself. You will then walk up most deliberately, and without noticing the bird, take the dog by the ear, and pull him back to where you fired, all the time giving him hearty shakes" — /should say, cuts with the whip, — " and crying 'down,' when you get to the sjiot where you shot from, take out your whip, and between the stripes call ' duwn,' in a loud voice ; continue this at intervals for some time ; and, even when you have finished your discipline, don't allow the dog to rise for ten minutes at least; then, after speaking a few words expressive of caution, take him slowly up to the bird, and lift it before Ids nose. If this plan is rigidly followed for several shots, I never saw the dog that would con- tinue to run in." The writer, it will be observed, is here speaking of running in to eat or tear, not to "fetcli" his bird ; that being a practice never taught, or allowed, to Pointers and Setters in England, simply because, being used altogether in the open field, it is as needless there, as it is necessary here. When I first came to this country, I imported a fine young Setter pup, which I had broke by Mr. Sandford, of Newark, whom I consider, in all respects, the best and most intelligent dog-breaker I ever saw, and, on conversing with him on the mode of breaking, I was equally surprised at learning two things, — that Setters, or Point- ers, were invariably broke to "Jctc//," or retrieve dead birds ; and that they were always taught to " come in" before charg- ing. I was exceedingly incrediilous on the first point ; and it was only with reluctance, and after seeing the steadiness with which his dogs first charged, then pointed dead, and then fetched, that I consented to allow " Chance" to be broke to retrieve. On the other point I was firm ; and Mr. Sandford having broken that dog for me, to drop to shot, on the spot, without coming in, was so thoroughly convinced of its advantage, in giving steadi- ness, in avoiding unnecessary words and orders, and in render- ing the dog promptly obedient, that he at once adopted the me- thod, and has never broken a dog otherwise since that time. I must add, that I am equally well satisfied, that to retrieve UPLAND SHOOTING. 185 is a necessary accomplishment for a Setter or Pointer in this country ; that it would be an advantage everywhere ; and that a dog can be precisely as steady fetching every bird, as he can if incapable of so doing. But he must invariably be made, not only to down-charge, but to point dead, before he is allowed to fetch. If the second duty is neglected, it will be a very little while before the ani- mal begins to rush in at every shot, without charging. One great difficulty here is, that no one in America having gamekeepers, the hunting of the dog, so soon as he is turned out of the breaker's hands, falls directly on the master — who is very generally, even if himself a very 2)assably good shot, unac- quainted with the methods of dog-breaking, and unqualified by his habits of life, for taking the trouble of going systematically to work with the animal, so as to keep him up to all that he knows, and to prevent him from either acquiring new bad tricks, or neglecting his old teachings. It is scarcely too much to say, that one half of the dogs in the United States, which go out of the breaker's into the master's hands valuable brutes, are, at the end of twelve months, worthless. I should strongly recommend young sportsmen, when pur- chasing new dogs, to take an opportunity, if possible, of seeing them himted several times by the breaker, and of endeavoring to obsene his peculiar modes of speech and action with the dog ; and at all events to learn those points of education, on which he insists, in order that they may guide themselves in their own conduct toward the animal tliereby, and insist on the animal acting in all respects up to his previous teaching. Old sports- men, of course, have their own ways of having their dogs trained, and on these they are so trained Ixfore buying them. Another thing is worthy of observation — a dog never ought to be lent. I would not lend my dog to a better sportsman than myself — because no two sportsmen hunt their dogs, as I have observed, exactly alike, and I wish my dog to hunt as I want him to hunt, not better than he docs, nor worse. It is impossi- ble to imagine tJie dilference of the intelligence of two dogs, 'I'll r''1 'i:^ *ll i li )t I f, W- !; ; ■ , I* I !i . t 186 FRANK FORESTER f? FIELD SPORTS. equally good by nature, the one of which has never been hunted but by ono master, and the other by every one whom he has been pleased to follow. I have taken the opportunity of making these observations on dog-breaking, and dog-hunting, in this place, because in Biunmer Woodcock shooting, above any other phase of the sport, an implicit obedience, great steadiness, and perfect staunchness is required in the dog. In Quail, or Snipe-shooting, you can see your dog the greater part of the time ; you can obsci-ve his every motion ; and can usually, if you ai'e quick- sighted and ready-witted, foresee when he is about to commit a fault in time to check him. In summer shooting, woe betide you, if you entertain so wild a hope. You hunt darkling, catching sight of your four-footed companion only by snatches, often judging him to be on the point, because you have ceased to hear the rustle of his sinuous movement through the bushes ; or because you have not seen his form gliding among the water- flags or feni, so recently as you should have done, had he turned at his regular distance, and quartered his ground without finding game. It is not once in ten, nay ! in twenty times, that you sec him strike his trail, draw on it, become surer, and stand stiff. You lose him for a moment, look for him, cohere heovgitt to he, and find him because he is there, pointing as you expected. A step or two forward, with your thumb on the hammer, and the nail of your forefinger touching the inside of your trigger- guard. Still he stands steady as a rock ; and you know by t\\e glare of his fixed eye, and the frown of his steadfast brow, and the slaver on his lip, that the skulking Cock is within ten feet of his nose, perhaps within ten inches. You kick the skunk- cabbages v ith your foot, or tap the bunch of cat-briars with your gun-muz/le, and flip-flap ! up he jumps, glances, half-seen for a second, between the stems of the alder bushes, and is lost to sight among the thick foliage of their dark green heads, before your gun-butt has touched your shoulder. But your eye has taken in his line — the trigger is drawn, the charge splinters the stems and brings down a shower of erreen leaves, and UPLAND SHOOTING. 18i nmong tlicm you fancy that you have seen an indistinct some- tliing falhng helplessly earthward — that you have heard the tlivd of his tumhle on the moist ground. Nevertheless, anxious iilthoii'rl you bo, and doubtful of your own success, you stir not fr(,iii the spot. At the report of the gun, your dog couch- ed instantly ; you can scarcely see him, so closely has he charged among the water-grass, with his nose pressed into the very earth between his paws. You drop your butt ujion the toe of your boot, if the ground be very wet, and begin to load, rapidly, yet coolly and delibe- rately. Yes! you 7«u't' killed him ; you may see tlie feathers floating yonder, in the still murky air of the windless swamp. You half-cock your locks, and ajiply the caps ; and, expectant of the coming order, " Don" lifts his nose wistfully. " Hold up, seek dead !" and carefully, gingerly, as if he were treading up- on eggs, knowing as well as you do that the bird is dead, and knowing pretty well where he is, at a slow trot, moving his nose from this side to that, snuffing the tainted air, and whip- ping his flanks with his feathered stern, lie draws onward at a slow trot. Now he has caught the scent, he .straightens his neck, quickens his pace a little, decidedly and boldly, and stands firm. " Good dog : Fetch." He stoops, picks up the dead bird, by the tip of the wing only, and brings liim to you without ruffling a feather. How conscious, liow happy, liow perfectly aware that he has merited your approbation, that you have both played your parts handsomely, as he hands you the trophy. Let him snuffle at it, for a moment, if he likes it ; he would not touch it with a tooth, for a dog kingdom ; but the scent is to him what the aroma of a glass of Lynch's Chateau Margaux of '25 is to you, — let him enjoy it, he shall not serve you the worse, for that he looks for his reward. Here, gentle reader, is what thou art expected to do on oc- casion. Do It thus, always, and thou ait a good sportsman, and a crack shot, not a doubt of it. Do it thus, very often in one day, and thou art having a right good day's sport of it ; ! .M 188 FRANK forester's FIELD SPOUTS. TOc)i as I trust I may have many, before this year has donned the sear of the hnf, wbicb is not as yet green. Jesting Hjiart, this is the way to do it, hoth as regards the flushing nud shooting the bird, and the management of the dog ; and, with respect to the last, I have only to add, that while it is impossihle to be too resolute, too firm, and almost impossiJiJo to he too strict, if not severe, it is also impossible to be too patient, too deliberate, or too q?/iff, with a delinquent dog. The least outbreak of temper prostrates its own object. All punishment aims at prevention. If you distract the dog's comprehension of your meaning, the object of the punishment is lost. Rcmem- bei', too, that the brute knows as well, whether he is punished justly or unjustly, as you do. A quiet rating, and a gentle pull of the ear, is better than an intemperate and noisy flogging ; but when you do flog, let it be no child's play, teasing and irritating without i)unislnng, — when you do flog, flog in earnest. And this is a day's summer Cock-shooting, — a re])etition of this that I have described, varied by those thousand little un- foreseen incidents, which render field sports so charming to every sensitive and enthusiastic sjiirit. First of all, it is pursued in the very loveliest summer weather, when the whole atmo- sphere is alive with all sounds of merriment and glee, — it is fol- lowed among the wildest and most romantic combinati(ms of rural scenery — in the deep, dim, se<;luded groves, far from the ordinary tread of man, by the reedy and willow-girdled mar- gins of calm inland waters, by the springy shores of musical mountain brooks, in long-retiring valleys high up among the hills, whence we look forth at unexpected turns over wide tracts of woodland scenery — in places where the shyest and most timid of warblers wake their wild music all day long, screened by impervious umbrage from the hot noon-tide of July, where every foiTn of animal life and beauty abounds, unbeheld of or- dinary mortals. And are not all tliese things a source of pleasure to the true woodsman ? Is lie not necessarily a lover not of sport oidy, and UPLAND SHOOTING. 189 of cxoitement — those are the ruder aiul less genial attributes of his profession — iiut a lover of iiaturc 1 To his mere success as a sportsman, I have ah-eady shown that a knowletlgo of the liabits and instincts of animals is necessary ; and let a man once set liimself to study these, and lie has turned ah'eady the first pajfo of natur.il history ; and so enticing is the study, that ho perforce must persevere. And none can study natural history, without loving nature, Tlie true sportsman, the gcnth sports- man, must he in some sort a poet — not a jingler of rhymes, or a cramper of English words into strange and uncongenial mea- sures, a meter of syllal)les, and a counter of fingers, but a lover of all things beautiful and wild — a meditator, a muser ! Ho must be, as the old pastorals were, niimplidrum fiigtcntiim ama- tor ; and to the very farthest flight of their coy tootstej)s must he follow them. Were it not for this, the sportsman were but a mere skilful butcher, — out upon it! tlun' be better things tlian this in our philosojihy ! This it is, with the sense of freedom, the sense of power, of manhood, of unchained and absolute volition, which we feel when our foot is on the mountain sod, our lungs expanded by the mountain air, that makes, in some sort, every man a sports- m;m. And then the noonday repose beneath the canopy of some dark hemlock, or tall pine, still vcjcal widi the same fitful mur- mur which jdcasured in Arcadia the ears of old Theocritus — th(! dainty morsel, rendered a thousand times more savory than your city baiupiets, by the true Spartan sauce of hunger, the cool di-aught tempered by waters cooller and clearer, though perchance less full of inspiration, than the lymph of Hippocrene ; the pleasant converse on subjects manifold, over the mild i'umcs of the composing cigar, — or, if need be, the camping out in the wild woods, the plying of the axe to ftirm the temporary slianty, the kindling of the merry blaze, the rude yet api)eti/.ing cook- ery, the buoyancy of soul caught from all these things, the un- tutored jest, the untaught laughter; and, last not least, com- posed on the fragrant hemlock tips, which strew the woodman's i! l! Jl 'I 190 FRANK FORRSTER S FIELD SPORTS. couoli, lulled l)y tlie murmur of tlio wind in tlio never-silent tree topn, by the far pliish of fiilliug waters, by the plniiitivo vvnilin'^ of the wliip-ponr-will, and the joyous revelry of the ilew- drinking katydids — the sleep, under the blue vault of the skii-s, guarded by the winking eyes of the watchful planc^ts only, — fiweeter and sounder, lighter and more luxurious, than princes ratch on beds of eider-down and velvet. Lo ! you now, reader, have not we too caught the inspira- tion, and ere we knew it, waxed poetical ! One thing alone is wanting to the perfection of summer shooting as a sport — I speak not now of the unfitness of the sea- son for hard exercise, — no season is, in truth, unfit for the dis- play of manhood ! — nor of the unfitness of the half-grown broods for slaughter! — and that one thing is, the want of variety in the species of game In autumn, hearty, jocimd, brown autumn, the woodman's sport is indeed manifold. Even when his dog has pointed, though he may guess shrewdly from the nature of his movements and the style of his point, the sportsman knows not what may be the game which shall present itself to his skill. It may be the magnificent Ruffed Grouse, whining up with a ibit- ter and an impetus that shall shake the nerves of a novice ; it may be a bevy of quail eighteen or twenty strong, crowding and jostling one another in their anxiety to avoid the danger, and distracting his aim by the multiplicity of objects ; it may be a full-grown white-fronted Woodcock, soaring away with its sharp whistle high above the tree tops ; it may be the skulking Hare, bouncing among the kalmias and rhododendrons, vulgarly generalized as laurels — they might as well be called cabbages ! —it may be Teal or Wood-duck, or if we are in the open, it may be Snipe, skin-ing away zig-zag over the rushy level. This it is which gives so strange a zest to the field sports of an American autumn day, and which renders the autumn shoot- ing of this country the wildest and most interesting of any it has ever been my luck to encounter — of any, I presume, in the world, unless it be that of Northern India, on the lower slopes, and in the plains at the foot of the Himalayah Mountains. rPLAND SHOOTING. 191 And witli iIiIk rnds all tlmt is to be sjiid on summer Wood- cock shooting ; lor tlio jxiiiod during wliicli tlio sport cnn Ix! (ollowcd is of ilst'll" lii'ict', not liisnng — at flic utmost not iiliove ii niontii from its coinmcnccMTifnt to its tcrmiiuitiou, liy i1r« disiip- |i('iiianc(' of tlio l)irds from tlieir usual liaunts in tliis section of tlie country. ' Tliis disappcariuicc of tlie bird is one of tlie most mystriious and iiic\plicui)le feafures in tlio natural history of the Wood- cock ; and what is v(;ry remarkable, it is not in anywise no- ticed or alluded tn by any naturalist with whoso works I am accjuainted. Neither Audubon nor Wilson appear cognizant of the fact, both speaking of the Woodcock, as if it tani(>d with us regularly from its arrival early in February, until its depar- tun; on the setting in of severe frost. That this is not the case, is perfectly well known to every sportsman in the country, although very few f)f these have trou- bled their heads to consider the circumstances of this short mi- gration, much less to record it. The fact is, that so soon as the young birds of the last brood arc full-grown, the AVoodcock withdraws for the purpose of moulting, and retums no more until the autumnal frosts have set fairly in, until the meadow grass is crisp, and the leaves sear. A lew scattered birds in- deed linger in the old places, just enough to prove that there is an absolute change of place on the part of the others of the fa- mily, and these only, it is probable, in consequence of some ac- cidental circumstance which has detained them, such as the late ness of tiieir last brood, or perhaps an unduly early moult on their own part, compelling them to remain trancpiil, while tlieir congeners are moving. At all events, the disappearance of the main body is sudden, total, and simultaneous. So much so, that for the five oi- six earliest years of my residence in America, when matters of bu- siness prevented me from absenting myself from the city until the first of August, I was utterly unaware that the " Drowned Lands" of Orange county ever held many Woodcock, although r was in the luibit of passmg my summers in that immediate VOL. I. 15 w f.;5 u. !i ji I, i' b. i h 1 i: i ii; 192 FPANK I'OKF.STKU S FIELD Sl'onTS. vicinity, 1111(1 liiid liriit tlio very gmutul on which I hnvo Hubne- <|iu>iifly killed Iniinlit'ds, witliout getting iiln»vo half-a-dn/CD sIldtM. Tt is ill tlio liiHt week of July, or the first of Aiij,niHt, thiit this disappearance (»f flu- Cock, wlicthcr from the hill-swales, tho larirer valleys, oi- the level meadows, takes place; and after this until the first week in Octolier, it is us«'less to hunt for them. A few birds can, it is true, nt all times he procured, enough to furnish a dainty for a sick frieixl, or perhaps at a hard pinch to try a doy^ ; hut certainly not enough to render it agreeable, or worth the while to go out in pursuit of them. Another fiict, going to prove that there is an absolute disaj)- penrancc or emigration of the bird, nt this season, is that on their return, tlu>y conu! in successive llights, tarrying each a longer or shorter time, according to the circumstances of tlie weather, and then passing onward. This is, 1 think, conclusive. When first I began to sj)ort in this country, some sixteen years ago, tluwe were two theories cuircnt among sportsmen, whereby to account fiu' the fact, that in woods, where the birds swarmed in July, they were liardly to be found in August. Both theories, as I have proved to my own satisfaction, are untenable and groundless. The first was this — " That the bird did not in truth, disappear at all, but remained on his old gnmnd ; though, owing to the fact of his being in moult, he gave out no scent whereby the dog could detect him ; and from sickness, or inability to fly with his wonted velocity, refused to rise before the tread of his intruding enemy, the man." This theory is answered in a word. The Woodcock, while in moult, iJoc.i give out as much scent, ii jxiinted as readily by dogs, (]ors rise as willingly befi)re the point, and is as good upon the table as at any other season. Facts, which are easily proved; since, although the great mass of birds withdraw during August, and do not return befi)re October, a few do still tarry in their old swamps, and may be fitund and shot, though so few in number, and at so great an expense of time and Ii UI'LAND SIIOOTINO. 193 I ! '! while htVily liy lis jfooci l-e easily titlulvaw tlo still though ime aiid liil)i)r, nH to I'Midor tlio pursuit of tlioin toilsome;, auJ prodiintivc only of wcurint'SH and disappointun'Ut. I have, howovor, killed tlii-m ri'poatcdly, w'lilc ^ndcavorint; t(» s:itisfy mysflf of tlie (iicts which I iio\" asst'r\ .-;o dci>|» iu tlie tnouh llial flicir hod'ii's havf Immmi aIiM"i iKiUod, and lliat tliry liavo fluttered up fcrlily, i' id -Mt' n lieavy w'li'Ting, on wings divested of (iiu^-liiilf ll.i» '(iiil! iVislhcrs and, in that stale, I have ohscrvcd that the do'j-s sim;,! as .MaiicMy, an from their gan'c, ii i jsual ; iid tlial flu' liivds took wing as freely, thougli, in w.uh, half i'cpo'.Mic t(. fly. l>eyond this, it is sj-av- 1; ncce.«'>:(iy f<» p' Ii!' "H to un intc I'i- pont render, that if ihi' hlrls still 'ay < ' sv.niiiis on tlieir ■!i\ Oiit yr.i.in-l is huiiti'd closely hy tvne-heiitini.r and iMil'j!''i 'ions uoij", !>e oit'iici run up, or turned out of tlie giaoi, and caught vo heard Insisled or? n- streiniously as the former, " Tiiat llio Woodcock, on h«;giinhig to moult, hetakes himself to tljc. maizj or Indian > orn *ci^ have ho,: Iku'si- ed, and the cold weather has set in." Tiiat n lesv HCf)tteieers, dmifig tiic vlght, previous to their removal ; but that f'nov are \cv to uc found generally, or for any number of consecu'ive days 'u weeks in .such ground, is an utterly incorr* . i ^.n/nise, disproved by long experience. I have applied i.-iyself larefuliy to the inve.stigatitm of this circumsta»H;c ; luid in the last ten years, have certaiidy beaten a thousa'.i » nia;/.e-fields thoroughly, with a brace of as good Set- ter! as any private gentleman possessed, at the very period when farmers would tell me "they were as thick as fowls in the corn-fields ; " and I have not on any occasioTi flushed more than three birds, in any one field ; nor have I killed twenty- five on such ground altf)gether. 104 FRANK forester's FIELD SrORTS. Somewhat, I must confess, to my surprise, I have ohserved within tlio last few weeks, a long and somewhat elaborate article, in the columns of that admirable journal, the New- York Spirit of tlie Times, the writer of which apparently (piitc uncon- scious of all that has been written on the subject, and seeming' to believe that he has made a discovery, brings out anew the old corn-field story. The matter is really not worth talking cibout. Every school-boy knows that late in July and August a few birds occasionally resort to wet, woodside maize-fields, and every one who has shot fifty summer Cock in his life ought to know, that no number are ever to be found in them, and thai he must have immense luck who bags a dozen Cock in all the maize-fields he can beat in a hard day's walk. I would like nothing better than to bet season in and out, against one bird to the scjuare acre — or square five acres, for that matter. I think the reader will admit that the two theories, alluded to above, are by these facts indisputably controverted. And now I must expect that it will be enquired of me, " whither, then, do they go 1 What does become of them 1" To winch sage questions it is, I grieve to say, my fate to be unable to make satisfactory reply. I was formerly incUned to believe, that when the moult is at hand, the Woodcock withdraws to tlie small upland runnels, and boggy streamlets, which are to be found everywhere among our highest hills or mountains. That the moulting season is the signal for dispersion, and the termination of all family ties between the young and old birds, is certain. From this time forth, until the next February brings round the pairing time, tlie Woodcock, whether found singly in a solitary j)lace, or among scores of his kind, is still a lonely and ungregarious bird, coming and going at his own pleasure, without reference — undemocratic rascal — to the will of the majority. In corroboration of this view of the absence of our bird during the early autumn, I was once informed by a gentleman whose word I have no reason to disbelieve, that on ascending once to the summit of Bull Hill, one of the loftiest of the High- UPLAND SHOOTING. 19d lands of the Hudson, witli the intent of showing the fine view thonce to fi (;ity friend, he found the hiushwood on the barren and rucliy ledges, and even on the crown of the hill, literally alive with Woodcock. This occurred, according to his state- ment, in the beginning of Sejiteniber, when no birds were to be found in the level and wet wodds below. He farther stated, that he at first intended to revisi the hill the next day, with dog and gun, in order to profit by his discovery, but was prevented doing so by casual circumstances, until the frost had set in keenly in the woods. He then climbed the hill, and beat it carefully with dogs, without obtaining one point to reward his labor ; and on the next day found the swamps below full of birds. Not vouching for the truth of this tale, I tell it as 'twas told to me ; the teller was a sportsman, and a man of average vera- city— that is to say, I should nave been inclined to believe any fact he stated, where I could see no interest, on his part, which should lead him to attemjit (hu'eption. In this case there was no such reason ; not even the desire of prevailing in argument, for we were not arguing. I (;annot, therefore, well doubt the correctness of his iidbrmation. If truly stated, as I believe it to have bee!i, this fact makes somewhat for my former opinion. I have, also, myself, fre- quently found scattered birds on such hill-tops, and in such mountain-swales, whik; deer-stalking, in August and September, though not in numbers which woukl justify the belief in a general migration en ma.sse to su('h localities. If, however, my half-formed opinion — for it is no more — be coiTect, the birds are dispersed at this period of the year, and are only to be found, casually, in knots of three or four, and never in greater numbers. The other, and, on the whole, perhaps more probable sug- gestion is this : that, after rearing their young, driven by the heat of the weather — or, it may be, by the temporary e.xhaustion of food on their favorite grounds, they move farther northward as does the English Snipe, yet earlier in the season, not to '1 ' J si ; li I ! ill if 196 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. return until the premature cold of northern Canada drives them back, to tarry with us a few months on their way southward. Should this prove to be the case, the Woodcock, instead of being termed with us a summer bird of passage, must be regarded as a spring and autumnal visitant, like his congener, tiie Snipe — with this difTerencc, that the Snipe rarely breeds witli us, going northward to nidificate, while his fellow-emigrant, our Scolopax, invariably rears his young before going farther toward the frosts of the nortlicrn jiolc. Of these suggestions my rcatlers must judge whether is the better of the two ; one of the two I believe to bo the only way for accounting for the Woodcock's short disapj)earance at this season. For the rest, as I leaned at first to the former, so do I now rather incline toward the latter belief, facts not bear- ing out the former tv^ my satisfaction, although I do not think the question has been, as yet, fully tested by experiment. It is to be regretted here, that this rjnestion is yearly becom- ing, in thes-e districts, more diflicidt of iilution; and I am the more strenuous in noting this emigration, because things may come, ere long, to such a pass, that it will become wholly Mndistini!;nishable. When I first shot in New-Jersey, and in the river counties of New- York, the disappearance of the birds was evident enough ; because, up to a certain day, they abounded, and after that, were not. Now, long before the second week of July, the Woodcock are exterminated in their summer haun's for miles and miles around' our large cities ; too many of them, alas ! slaughtered before the season, when scarcely able to fly — when nearly unfit for the table — when a game despicable to the loyal sportsman, and a victim easy to the pot-hunting knave who goes gunning with a half-bred, half-broken cur, and a Ger- man fowling-piece, dear at a dollar's purchase. Oh ! gentlemen legislators — gentlemen sportsmen, " Reform it altogether !" Oh ! ye choice spirits, who stood forth, tfter the long, hard 1 < UPLAND SHOOTINR. 107 winter and deep buow-drifts Quail-dcstioyirij^ of ISHG, to rescue that delightful little fowl from total extinction, stand forth in likewijc now, in prote(!tion of the Woodcock. Sullicient for the day is the evil thereof. Railroads arc ruining the hopes— the })leasures of the sportsman ; our best shooting grouiuls now swarai, on the first of July, with guns more numerous than hirds ; the Warwick woodlands, once inaccessible to the pot- jiunter and the poacher, may now be reached i'or fifty cents ; may now be swept clear in a single day ; nay, arc swept clear of half-fledged younglings, by men, boys, and bunglers, and ruthlessly diivoured before the season has set in, by ignorant voracious cockneys. ' Reform it altogetlier I' Enact that the Woodcock shall not be slain — shall not be possessed — as iMr. Bhint possessed him — on plate or in stomach, until the first day of October. Every true sportsman — every sportsman whatsoever, will go hand and heart with the law — will watch and prevent the illegal sale of the bird ; and then, ye gods of woodcraft! Sylvans and Fauns ! and thou, friend of the hunter. Pan ! what sport shidl we have in brown Octo- ber, when the sere underbrush is bare of leaves to miif the sportsman's aim ; when the cool dewy earth sends up the odoi of the game in fresh steams to the Setter's keen and sagacious nose ; when the pure air braces the nerves and fans tlie brow, delicious; when the full-grown, white-frontel, pink-legged Cock springs up — not fluttering I'eebly now, and staggering stupidly into the muzzle of the gtui, to drop again within twenty yards, but on a vigorous and whistling pinion, wi ii sharp-piping alarm note, swift as a rifle-bidlet, soaring away through the tree-tops, or dar ing, devious with abrupt zig-zags, among the thick-set saplings. Him, no boy can blaze at, his twenty times in half an hour, and slaughter after all with one chance pellet, or hap])ily wea- ried down without (me! Him can no German gun achieve, of cast-iron, scattering its shot over an area of twenty feet, harra- linM IJ m m (' 198 FRAiNK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. i' I '■i I I less at twenty yards ! Him can no cur-dog flush in gun-slioC of pot-hunting poucher. No ! gentlo reader, him, vvhelhcr he Hes in the tufted fern and wintergreens, or the dry slope of some warm, westering liill- side, among second-growth of brown oak and chestnut; whether lie wades among the sliaHow mu'l-pools, sheltered by I'ern, dock-leaves, and dark colt's-lbot, of some deep maple swamp, it needs the stealthy pace, the sh>w, cat-like, guarded motion, the instinctive knowledge of the ground, the perfect nose, and absolute docility, which belong only to the thorough dog of the thorough sportsman, to find certainly, anu tand staunchly ! Him, whether he flap up, seen for one second only, among the leafless sterns, and lost the next among the tufted tops of the yet verdant alders ; whedier he soar away, with his shaip whistle, far, far above the red and yellow tree to^is ; whether he pitch now here, now there, sharply and suddenly, among the close saplings, it needs the eye of faith, the finger of instinct, the steady nerve, the deliberate celerity, the marking glance, which characterise the sportsman — the crack shot, who — as poor Cypress averx'ed truly — is born like the poet, not made like the orator — to cut down at his speed ; not wing-tipped or leg-broken, but riddled by the concentrated charge, turned over and over in mid air, arrested mercifully by quick and unerring death, and falling with a heavy tJiud, which tells good things of ten ounces' weight, on the brown leaves of gorgeous autumn. My words are weak to describe the full charm of this noblo pastnne — noble, when followed as it should be, in the true ani- mus and ardor of the chase — but most ignoble when perverted to base, culinary, carnal, gluttonous, self-seeking purposes — weak are they, when compared with the vivid and heart-thril- ling reality — yet even thus, they will have done their duty if they succeed in arousing the attention of the true friends of sports- manship throughout the land, to this most interesting subject. Certain it is that the Woodcock returns, whether old or younjj, to the same place where he was bred and where he has reared his ■ :M UPLAND SHOOTING. 199 -as latle cl or iiiccl ami ooil tcous loblo ani- nted iCS — |))CCt. Id his young, if unmolested. If persecuted and sliot off, year after year, on liis very hrcediug ground, and while lie was in the very act of hrcoding, he will desert that ground altogelher. Of this, I have seen proof positive. In the ininiediate vicinity of Warwick, in Orange county, within two miles of the village, there are twenty little woods and swamps, t'uch of which used ten or twelve years ago to be a certain find in July for two, three or more broods of birds. It was easy shooting and easy marking ground, and year after year I and my party — at lliat time no one else shot in that region — killed o(I' the whole summer stock, clean. The consequence was, that long before the general shooting of the district was afl'ectcd by the march of intellect and the growth of railroads, and while birds yet abounded a mile or two farther off, those swamps ceased even to hold a summer brood. Twenty birds killed in a wood, twenty days in succession, injure that wood loss as a home for Woodcock than ten killed once in July. Hence, as for fifty other reasons, I say, if we would have Woodcock shooting at all, away with summer shooting — away with all upland shooting, antecedent to the first of October, unless you choose to except Snipe, although for the exception I can see no reason, unless it is that the evil produced by iiilling them in spring is as yet somethhig less crying, and the diminution of thei.' numbers less palpable. I had the honor to lay a drafi of a petition to the New- York legislature on tliis subject, before the New- York S|)ortsman's Club in the course of last winter — lSlG-7 — which was taken up, and the draft printed. I regret to say that, from prudential motives, as it was thought by many good sportsmen, and appre- hension of difficulty in getting a sufficiency of signatures, action on it has been pos poned for the pn-sent I am still myself satisfied, tliat the measure therein proposed, or some other nearly akin io it, rs the last and only lio^jc left to sportsmen of preserving any kind of game, but especially Woodcock, among us. The domestic habits of the Qm'l, his haunting homesteads, and becoming to some degree a pet of the farmer, and yet 'I, "■! Ml ! I 200 FRANK FORESTEU S FIELD SPORTS. more, his indigenousness to tlio laiid, acts in a consideralih? degree as a protection to liim. But the Woodcock, who is a more emigrant, lioro to-day and away to-morrow, has no domestic friend, no landlord to protect him, and man forget that if spared, he will as surely return to breed in the same wood again, bringing all his progeny with him to increase and mul- tiply, as the tepid winds and warm showers of April and May will succeed to the easterly gales and snow drifts of March, and the leaves be green in summer from the buds which burst in sj)ring. My game law, sucli as it is, will be found in the appendix to Upland Shooting. I believe it would be useful as it is, but should any sportsman or any society of sportsmen be able to (;oncoct one better (iither in practice, or in the probability of success, I and all my friends, and those who think with me on the subject, are prepared to support it. Unity of action is the one llnng needful ; and that cannot be attained if every man holds out resolutely for his own crotchet. Let the principle once be aflirmed and made good, and the details are of infinitely minor importance. They will follow. For the rest, what is to be done, must be done quickly, or we shall be liable to the ridicule which falls on the tavAy Jaincant who locks his stable dnor after the horse is stolen. Three or four more seasons like the two last, and the ques- tion will be settled to our hands, and if we do not bestir ourselves now, we shall find ere long that we shall have neither summer nor autumn Cock-shooting within a hundred miles of the seaboard. H UFLANO SnOOTINO. 2UI UPLAND PLOVER SHOOTING. I 'in nil ITH tlio end of July, all that inn properly bo called shooting, as a genuine sport, is at an end. Tlu' Woodcock, as 1 have already stat- ed, is no longer to bo found, wheth- er ho be lying perdu, on the moun- tain tops, or oft" on a wilder wing for the far north. 'i"he Snipe has not yet begun to return from his arctic breeding places ; the Quail is rttill busy with her eggs, or her fledging cheepers ; and the Ruft'ed Grouse, although her young are already two-thirds grown, is pro- tected by the game-laws until the first day of November. This last jirotocti n i)y the way, is as absurd in point of fact, as everything connected with the game laws of the States, All the varieties of Grouse are early breeders ; their young come rapidly to maturity ; when full-grown they are as wild as hawks ; and at all times, from their own habits, and the peculi- arity of the ground on which they reside, they take better care «)f themselves, than any other species of winged game. The breeding season of these birds commences in May ; early in June the young birds can fly ; and by the middle of September they are full-grown. There is this peculiarity about them, moreover, that they do not, as all other birds of this order, rasorcs, with which I am acquainted, kecji together in broods or coveys until the commencement of the next breeding season ; but separate altogether, and ramble about either as single indi- viduals, or in small parties, during the autumn and winter. yoa FRANK forester's FIELD SI'ORTS. ! li I After tills separation lins (nue taken place, the birds, lioth younj^ and old, are so wild that they will rarely or never lie to be pointed V)y a dog, unless they are found hy chance in some very dense brake or grass-grown thicket, in which they cannot run ; and consequently there is no chance of having any sjxirl with them, after they have once ceased to keep company. This, I think, they invariably do, before the law permits that they should bo shot. Consequently, although I have often been in regicms where they abound, I have never found it worth the while to go out to hunt for them especi;illy. They are u bird of a very rambling disposition, here to-day and miles oft' to- mori'ow, frecjuenting the roughest and most inaccessible moun- tain-sides, evergreen thickets, and woods of hemlock, pine; or red cedar ; and I have never seen, and never expect to see the place where a sportsman can be si/rc of getting a dozen shots over points, or even half that number, in a day's hard walking. Add to this, that if the Rufi'ed Gi'ouse be the particular object of pursuit, there is no chance of finding any other speciis of game, unless it be a few Hares ; for the haunts of this solitary and mountain-loving misanthrope are too wild and rude for the domestic Quail, and too arid for the Woodcock. In autumn shooting, stragglers are often met on Quail ground, in low thickets, bog-meadow edges, and the like, and then they aff'ord good sport, and often make a great addition to the bag ; but the only way is to take them as you find them, and if you find them, be thankful ; but never deviate from your regular line of beat in order to find, or to follow them ; if you do, sure disappointment awaits you. The best day I ever had with Ruffed Grouse, was in the low, dense thickets on the edge of the Big Piece, in New-Jersey, in the winter of 1837 ; when there were a vast quantity of Quail in that region ; but I had not the least expectation of finding more than a chance strag- gler or two of the Grouse. With a friend, however, I bagged eight brace of these birds, fairly pointed, which I consider great sport, as I have never before or since seen an opportunity of doing a quarter of the work, though I have taken long jonrneys UPLAND SHOOTINn. 20.1 for the especial puqjoso of potting tliis Hport in perfection. If the law authorized tlie sliootiiig them in iSoptomber, or at the latest on the first of October, there are nuiny districts of the country, wliere tii(! Huffed fi rouse would afford i;reat sport to those, wlio would take the troulde to j)ursue them into their fastnesses, which requires considerable strenjrth and activity. In the meantime, however, while there is no letfitimiite upland shootin;,' tf) be had — by let for ])rofit or for provision, not for sport, and where the pursuit of the larger animals is so comtnon and so well rewarded, as to render the shooting of birds on the wing rare, and in the eyes of the community rather ridiculous. Tlie ccm- se(]uence of this is, that tlu; capabilities of the country in a sporting view, are uidvuown ; and the species of game, to be found in it, almost certainly lost to the sj)orting world. In .Tune, IS 10, I saw several of these birds, ^vith young, in the immediate vicinity of the city of Bangor ; and I have little or no doubt that, were proper means taken, great numbers might be procured at the proper season in tliat region. 'i'he Field IMover is abundant in the Boston niarkels during the season; and I believe they are sufllciently common to afford amusement to the sportsmen of that country, though I am not aware in what parts of the State thoy are most frequent. On the plains in the vicinity of Hempstead, Long Island, they used to abound ; and they still fretiuent that coutitry, although not nearly so numerous as they were some years since. In New .lersey they are very rare, owing to the nature, I imagine, of the soil, and the face of the country; for these birds are the least maritime of their race, and never, I think, frequent salt marshes, or water meadows of any kind ; of which most of the low lands in New Jersey consist, while its hills are not open slicep-walks, but rocky and wooded fastnesses, etjually unfit foi- this Sandpiper's abode. DPLANU SHOOTINO. ior> Wlioro viist unenclosed plnins aro not to lie foiinil, this hiM loves to luiuut l:ir^r(! hill piistnres, lallow-fields, and newly ploutrlicd ofrounds, wliere it finds the various kinds of insect t'octd to which it is so. partial, — ifrasshoppers, licelles, and all llie small (Coleopterous Hies coninion to such localities, in the tfrass lands — and worms, small snails, and the like, on the fallows. Th(! Upland Plover Is a shy and timid hird ; and, on foot, it is, for the most part, ne.irly impossihle to approach it. It feeds on u:r(y the return of the Wood- cock, after its brief August niigriitiou ; aud, the period of that return being uncertain, and dei)endant on the state of the wea- ther, and other influences, with wliicli we are not fully ac- quainted, tlie sportsman lias only to bide his timo, and take the season as he finds it. In truth, the variati m of the autumnal season is in this res- pect very great, as regards both the Woodcock and the Snipe. 1 have shot both of tliese birds together, in otmsitlerable num- bers, on the same ground, so early as the 12th gree variable — rfnipe being more abun- dant one year than another — it nev(!r has occurrt-d, within my observation, that the flight passes <>n altogether without pausing, or giving some chance of sport, more or less, as is not very un- usually the consequence of a series off droughts or rains in the spring. The Woodcock, on his return from the northward, or his des- cent from the mountain-tops, never, as a ireneral rule, returns precisely to the same leeding grounds wliich he prefers in sum- mer, during the extreme heats, but appears to prefer dry hill- sides, sloping to the sun, southerly or westward, and to choose woods of yoimg saplings, or sprouts, as they are commonly called in this country, tall, wet maple groves, and second growth of oak, adjacent to brook or meadow feeding grounds, rather than the dense coppice, and that variety of brakes and in- tervales, or glades, which he kr/es the best in July. Tliispeou- 1^: II 'i' ! ! 212 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. liarlty tciuIcis lilm a more agreeable object of pursuit at this poridd of tlic year, the rather that lie is now found often in company with hevius of Quail, and that almost invariably the latter bird, when flushed in the stubbles where he feeds, (lies for shelter to the very covert most haunted by the Wocjdcock. All this will, however, vary more or less, according to the nature and face of the country ; for where there is excellent feeding and breeding groun'.l, not interspersed with the ferny hill-sides, overgrown wit'a young, thrifty, thickset woodland. Cock do not desert the region, but are found almost in the same haunts as in summer. And where that is tie case, the sportsman may note this dis- tinction, that whereas i;i summer, when he iv s once killed off clean the whole of the one, two, or three broods, which frequent a small ])iece of coppice, or swamji thicket, it will be utterly useless for him to beat it agahi, he may now, day after day, kill every bii-d on a piece of good feeding ground, and will still each succeeding morning find it supplied with its usual com- plement. I first learned this fact in Orange county, where, within half a mile of the tavern at which I put uj), there is a smnll, dry, thoniy i)rake, with a few tall trees on it, lying on a sort of island, surrounded by a veiy wet bog meadow, and half encir- cled b V a muddy streamlet, overhung with thick alders, the whole affair, brake, meadow, and all, not exceeding three or f«)ur acres. I knew the place of old as a certain summer-find for a single brood of Cock. In 0< lober, on the first day of my visit to the coMtilry, I beat this brake, at thnnving oflT in the morning, and baggf'd eleven fine ftiJf birds — being four or five more than I expected — two birds went away wild without being shot !it, and could not be found again. On the following day, having finished my beat early, and it not being above a mile out of my way home, I thought I woidd try to get the two sur^nvors, and was much and most ngree;il)ly surprised at bagging nine birds, all that were tluslied, on tlie spot. u UPLAND SHOOTING. 213 Being quite certain that these were new comers, and tho brake being a very pretty and easy place in which to got shots, and mark birds, I l»eat it regularly, cither going out, or coming liomo, every day during my stay iii the country, and baggcfi upon it, in all, sixty-tlu-ee birds in six successive days. This is now very many years ago, but I noted tho I'act liom its singularity at die time ; and I hav(! since observed, tlir.t in cercain liighly I'avored places, tliis maybe regularly lookrd ibr; and I would nevc'r reconnneiid a sportsman, sho' ting lu'i; in the aui.i.'^-'n. particularly after the nights Iuitc; begun to bo fVosty, to decline trying a likely piece of ground, a second, or e -en a third or fourth time, because he has already swept it cle ir of Woodcock. Tt docs not, of course, follow of all ground ivhatso- ever; but of all that ground which is the most l)el:»ved by the h.'rd, it is unquestitmably true that it will be filled, and refilled, many times in succession. This is certainly a curious facr, and one for which it is diffi- cvdt to account, by any reasoni'.hle mode f)f explainition. The succession of so many bird:;, is in itself singular, it not beincf at all apparent where is the reservoir from which the current is supjilied. It was not, in the case T have named, iVom other woods in the neighborhood, of slightly inlerior excellence, us feeding ground, for these were not deserted ; and, if we suppose that the fresh supplies came in consecutively from the north- ward by long flights, how should they have been able to time themselves so exactly, as to come on the very nights when the haunt was vacant, and at their service ? On the other hand, if we adopt the idea that the descent is only from the neighboring mountain tops, why shouid theso wait patiently until the others were killed ofl" to tlieir hands, instead of pouring down into the place in a body, and there remaining until the supply of food, which renders it so favorite a haunt, should be exhausted I Such, however, is invarialdy the case in such localities, and I never but once in my life observed anything like iijloc/c of these birds. That once, in a ve>'y wet j)lace, on the edge of a heavy ■j 'l^- I ' ! ! i I I 314 FRANK FORESTE.. 6 .'ELD SPORTS. Bwamp, where a huge spring, which never freezes, hursts out and percolates through the vegetahle soil for a distance of a hundred yards, or a little more, hefore gathering itself into a siuffle channel, I saw at least a hundred hirds rise within three minutes. It was very late in the season, the Gth or Sth of No- vcmher, and sharp frost had already set in, and it was so late in the afternoon that it was almost dark. I was shooting with a friend, who had a young dog which could not be controlled from running in ; and all the hirds were ilushed at two rises, each of us getting two double shots. The Woodcock settled down all over the large swamp, but it was too dark to follow them ; and the next morning, it having been an intensely hard black frost at night, not a bird was to be found in the country. Had we come upon that flight earlier in the day, and with old, steady dogs, the sport might have been incalculable. I have always believed, however, that to be an instance of actual migration ; and I am well satisfied all those birds had dropped in, from a long flight from the north, whence they had been expelled by the severe cold, with no intention of stopping longer than to recruit themselves by a single day's repose. Alter that night no more birds were seen in that part of the country, until the breaking of the ensuing winter. One other point appears to be worthy of remark, with regard to the autumnal migration of Cock, on their way southward, namely, that sometimes, particularly when the winter sets in unusually early and severe on the sea-board, and south of the mountains, the flight of Cock come down all nearly at once, and in one direction, avoiding whole ranges of country, and abso- lutely swarming in other regions. A few seasons since, when the northern and river counties, so far down as Rockland, were covered with snow, which lay two or three dpy.«, in the first week of October, no more Woodcock were found that autumn in that district, or in Eastern New Jersey, quite down to the sea, while they literally abounded on the eastern side of the Hudson, and were killed in pn^fusion throughout Westchestei, and even within a few miles of New York city. UPLAND SHOOTING. 215 The cause of this, I suppose to bccxplicjiblc thus, — lluit there If, iu fcict, always a two-tblcl migration of Woodcock in tlie autumn, that of the birds l)re(l in these districts, whicli, having absented tliemselvcs during the mouU, return immediately, that over, to the vicinity of their resting-places, and remain through- out tlie autumn, — and that of tlie birds bred very far nortli of us, which tarry at the north so long as the weather will permit, and then visit us for a few days, more or less, according to the state of the country iind the temperature, but never make any protracted sojourn witli us. In such a case as that which I have mentioned, the home-I)red birds are probably driven southward at once by tlie temporiiry local snow-storm, while the northern flights, not having been forced to move, tarry till the last, and then hurry off, pitching only for a single day to rest themselves, and resuming their progress every night. Woodcock and Snipe both, it is hardly necessary to observe, are in a great measure nocturnal biids, and almost invariably make all their long voyages, and usually even their casual trips from one feeduio; Qfround to another, between sunset and sun- rise. T have occasionally seen Snijie travelling high in the air, in small whisps, during the day time in dark foggy weatliev with small rain falling; but I have never known Woodcock to move their quarters, unless violently aroused, until it is almost too dark to distiuojuish them on the wing. The weather, in which both these swift passengers love best to roam, is dull, hazy, and sometimes even rainy, and that com- monly on tli^; bieaking of a north-easterly storm. This is par- ticularly the case with the Snipe, and in the spring. In fact, I have never known them abundant on the meadows until after two or three days cold heavy rain, and to there having been no such storm tnis present yeai", I attribute, in a great measure, the extreire scarcity of Snipe. It is a little singular, however, that, while these birds prefer thick and hazy weather, they almost always choose moonlight nights, and fly most when the moon is near the full. AVlien . r i .1 li' .f :,; Ihi —■»■>■ l^jg I 1 1 ll ■? !f i 21C FKA.N'K FOUESTKU S FIELD SPOUTS, tlio sprirtsmiin is so fortunuto us to iiiul liiinsclf iiiv.Jivd wWa that most drlicidUB to the st'iist-s, and most h)Vi!ly to tlic fye, of all wt'iithcr, which \vc know as Indian .Sunimi'r, at the lull of tho October moon, ho may count himself almost certain of fiiidiiiu; the coverts well stocked with Woodcock. I have fre(]iieiitly acted on tliis indication myself, and, in spite of being warned liy letters from the country that Cock had not come on, have set out from the city, relying on tin- combination of the pur2)le haze with the full October moon, veiled in sol't silver fur the nonce, and have raicly been disappoiiit<;d of yood sport. In all other resj)ects, the pursuit of ^\'oodco(•l^, the mode of hunting them, and the style of killing them, dilii'r in nothing now from the methods to be used in summer. The birds are, of course, far stronger on the wing, as they arc now full grown, and instead of dodging about in the buslies and dropping with- in twenty yards of the muzzle of a gun just discharged, will soar away over the tree tops, and sometimes lly half a mile at a stretch. The dilliculty of killing them, is therefore increased, although the absence of the green leaf affords a fairer view of them, and the man who makes a large bag must depend more on unaj) sliots tlian on fair chances over steady points. In this place it will not be improper to insert a slight notice and drscriplion of the mode generally ado])ted for the killing of Woodcock in Louisiana, Mississippi and the other Southwestern States, l)y what is termed " Fire-hunting." This practice is njsorted to, in some degree, as a matter of necessity, owing to the fact that, in these regions which are the favorite winter home of the bird in (juestion, he frecjuents during the day only the most impracticable cane-brakes and morasses, from which it is only by dint of the severest labor that he can be dislodged. Until very recently no other mode of shooting Woodcock was practised at all in these states, as it was regarded as im- possible to pursue them with any success during the day lime in their gloomy and difficult fastnesses. Of late years, however. UPLAND SHOOTING. 217 i r! us min'lit hnvc. hcoii exported, it has liriii (It'inoiistnitod by {jdod spnrtsinnn, that Cock can ht- killed nvor Setters — Spaniels would (Inul)tliss he yot preleraltle — in those states as elsf'- wheii', and the correct, leu;itimafc and : portsinanliko method ot' liiuitinu; theni with dous is, of consecpicnce, coining into voifue, soon, I (hiuht not, entirely to supersede the " Fire-hunting" system, which althouifli it may ho good tun enough, i'or onco or twice, can only he regarded as a species of poaching, or pot- hunting; palliated or perliaps in some sort legitimatized by the necessities of the case. Throughout this rogiou, as I have said, during the day this more than half nocturnal b'rd is not to he seen at all without the confines of the dense and tangled brakes on the edges of the dce[) bayous and morasses, neM-r ilyintf abroad into the opiMi, and contenting itself with nibbling the nnid, and picking up a little chance food in its hirking phues. No sooner is it dark, however, than out the Woodcocks come by thousands from their fastnesses, and, jntching down on all sides in the old fields and mai/e-stubbles, apply themselves to nibbling and boring in the soft, rich loam for their succulent worm-diet. H(neupon the fire-hunt commences — with gun and game-bag, powder-flask and shot-pouch, and all appliances and means xrcniKhim arfcni, the sportsman sallies forth ; but no silky-haired, high-strung, sagacious Setter, no satin-skiimed, rat-tailed, obe- dient Pointer follows his master's heel. In lieu of Don or Sancho, an old, crafty, grizzle-pated, merry negro, comes forth, erpiipped with the brazen vessel of a warming-pan, or the like instrument, set erect on a pole of some ten or twelve feet in length, filled with light wood, pine knots, or such like bright, burning combustibles. Arrived on the feeding ground, a light is applied ; the quick fuel sends out a broad, ruddy glare ; and, as the bearer slowly circumambulates the field, a circle of intense lustre is shed for ten yards around him, rendering every object more clearly visible than at noon-day. The shooter walks close to the fire- P m \:\ ,1: I: I .v"« ilfi ; i T ttmmmm 218 FRANK FonESTEIl K FIELD NPOUTS. !» ! i ! >' Iteiiror, on liis riirlit liaml, and ever and anon a.s tlio circular glare passivs nlonj^ over the surface of tlio ground, liis eye detects the Woodcock, croudiinir close to the earlli, and ga/ing with its full, fascinated eye ui)on the stranufe illumiuiition. Tlie noxf instant up it spriiis^s, diz/y and confused and soaiiiijr upward toward the light. It is seen for a second, and then is lost in the surrounding darkness; hut of that one quick second the sportsman takes advantage ; and hy a snap shot culs him down, with a light charge; never killing a bird at above ten paces distant, and often bagging his hundred in a single even- .ng's work. This mode of Cock-shooting, arises, as it is evident, ex vi'ces- sitatc re'i, and may for a whik! be sufiiciently exciting. It must, however, lack all that variety, which is the great charm of our northern shooting ; variety, which arises from the working of the emulous, obedient, and well-trained dogs, in observing whose exquisite instinct, fine attitudes and beautiful docility, me jiidicc, lies half the pleasure of field sports ; and which, together wilh the lovely scenery, tl.e brisk, breezy air, and the exulting sense of persmal independence, and personal power, springing from these and from the glow of clieerful exercise, renders them to active, energetic and enthusiastic minds the first of pleasures, and almost a necessary relief from the dull monotony of evcry-day existence. This brings us to Quail shooting, and to what is the climax of all our field sport "^, that mixed, wild, autumn shooting, in one day of which, the laborious woodman may kill on one range, Quail, Woodcock, Ruffed Grouse, Hare, Snipe, and some two or three varieties of Wild Duck. I have had many a good day's sport in many countries, but above everything that I have ever seen, or expect to see again, give me a day of lough and tumble autumn shooting, such as it was ten years ago in Orange county, and such as it may per- haps be again, for a short time, when the Erie railroad shall first give us access to tlie southern tier of counties. Me jndice, there is nr)thing like it in the wild world. UPLAND SHOOTiNO. 219 QUAIL SHOOTING. )i:\ i 1 1 WE already, under my list of Upland (Jaiiio, fjivcM a Cull di'sciiption of this lovely little bird from the pajroa of Audu- bon and Wilsdii. Both of these authors lean to the south- ern fasliion of calliii!:; this bird a I'ar- tridj^e. Now the truth of tlic matt(>r is simply this, that the bird in question is jiraperfy and accurately neither one nor the other, but a distinct spceius, pnssossinir no Kiiirlish name whatever. The oriiithoh)- gical name uf the Partridge is Pcrdi.r, of the Quail Cohirnix, o\ the American bird, disti'ict from either, Ortyx. The latter nam(! bein^ \ \ 33 WKT MAIN STRin WnSTU.N.Y. MSM (716)t72-4S03 4^ Ai^ .■.^-■«.^^-,..— .-■ W i. ssn FRANK FOTIESTER'S FIELD SPOUTS. E'ltrlisli nomenclature by giving lam a scientific title directly analogous to Quail, and not to Partridge. I should as soon tliink myself of calling the bird a Turkey as a Partridge, and I shall ever hold that the question is entirely Bet at rest, and that the tnie name of this dear little bird in the vernacular is American Quail ; and his country has better rea- son to be proud of him, than she has of many of her sons who make much more noise in the world than our favorite Bob- White. While on this sidiject, I may obseiTC — for the benefit of our northern sportsmen, many of whom I have heard positively assert that the Quail is not migratory — that every where west of the Delaware he is as distinctly a bird of migration as the Woodcock, and the farther west the more palpably so. Why he loses these habits with us of the Middle States I cannot guess, nor has any naturalist so much as alluded to the fact, which is nevertheless indisputable. It will be seen at once, from the foregoing description, that our American Quail is a most beautiful little bird; but his beauties do not consist merely in his plumage, but in his gait, his pretty pert movements, his gi-eat vivacity, his joyous atti- tudes, his constant and cheerful activity. He is in all respects the most social, the merriest, and most amiable of his tribe. During tire breeding season, he alone, of the gallinaceous tribe, makes wood and mead resound with his shrill, merry whistle, whence our country fidk have framed to him a name Boh -White, from some fancied similarity of sound, cheering his faithful partner during the toils of incti- bation. Afterward, when the bevies are collected, as ho runs from the huddle in which he has passed the night, he salutes his brcfthren, perhaps thanks his Creator, for the pleasant dawn, with the most cheerful noise that can be fancied, a short, quick, happy cheeping, " and seems to be," to borrow the words of the inimitable Audubon, I quote from memory alone, "the happiest little creature in the universe." UPLAND SHOOTING. 221 .1 most )iie, of with ramed ity of ' iucii- The Quail is not only the most sociahle of his tribe in refer- ence to his fellows, but is by far the most tameable and friendly in his disposition as regards the general enemy and universal tyrant, man. In the winter season, when the gi'ound is so deeply covered with snow as to render it impossible for them to obtain their customary food, the seeds namely of the various grasses, which they love the most, or the grains which lie scattered in the stub- bles, they come naturally into the vicinity of man's dwellings; and it is by no means an unusual sight to perceive tliem run- ning about among the domestic fowls in the barn-yard, and flying up, if suddenly disturbed, to perch under the rafters of some bam or out-house, secimingly fearless, and confident, in such seasons, of protection. During the whole of last winter, I had a bevy of thirteen birds, lying within three or four hundred yards of the room in which 1 sit writing, under the shelter of a rough, wooded bank, whereon I fed them with buckwheat after the heavy snows had fallen ; and they became so tame, that they would allow me to approach within twenty paces of the spot where tliey were fed, running about and picking up the triangular seeds, perfectly unconcerned at my presence. As soon, however, as the spring commenced, and the bevy separated themselves into pairs, their wild habits returned upon them ; and I have seen no more of my little friends. The Quail pairs in the month of March, or even earlier, if the winter has been a mild one, and the ground at that period is free from its snowy winter covering ; if, on the contrary, the spring is very late and backward, his courtship is deferred until April. As soon as he has chosen to himself a mate, the happy pair retreat to wide, open, iiishy meadows, where the conformation of the country affords them such retirement, among the tussocks of which they love to bask in the spring sunshine. AVliere the land lies higher, and is ^broken into knolls and gulleys, you will fuid them at this season on the grassy banks beside some shel- • 'i 1-^ 229 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. I': tered hedge-row, or along the green and shrubby margin of Bome sequestered streamlet ; but never in thick woodlands, and rarely in open fields. Most birds, so soon as they have paired, proceed at mce In the duties of nidification and the rearing of their young; it seems to me, however, that the Quail spend some time in pairs before proceeding to this task; for I have frequently seen them in jiairs so early as the twentieth of March, yet I have never found the Hen sitting, or a nest with eggs in it, during spring Snipe shooting, though I have often flushed the paired birds on the same ground with the long-billed emigrants. I have never, indeed, seen a Quail's nest earlier than the middle of May, and have often found them sitting as late as the end of July. Their nest is inartificial, made of grasses, and situate for the most part under the shelter of a stump or tussock ii - inc wiUl meadows, or near the bushy margin of some clover field or orchard. The Hen lays from ten to two-and-twenty eggs, and is relieved at times, in hatching them, by the male bird ; who ccmstantly keeps guard around her, now sitting on the bough of the nearest tree, now perched on the top rail of a snake fence, making the woods and hills resound with his loud and cheery whistle. The period of the Quails' incubation, I do not know correctly ; the young birds run the moment they burst from the egg; and it is not uncommon to see them tripping about with pieces of the shell adhering to their backs. The first brood hatched, and fairly on foot, the hen proceeds at once to the preparation of a second nest ; and committing the care of the early younglings to her mate, or rather dividing with him the duties of rearing the first, and hatching the second bevy, she devotes herself incessantly to her maternal duties. So far as I can ascertain, the Quail almost invariably raises a second, and sometimes, I believe, even a third brood in a single season. Hence, if unmolested, they increase with extra ordir.ary rapidity, when the seasons are propitious. It is, however, UPLAND SHOOTING. 983 ctly ; and of equally certain that, under other circumstances, they suirerniore severely in this region of coruitry, than any otlierbird of game; and that in unfavorable seasons they run great danger of being altoirethcr annihilated. The fear of tliis result has led to what I consider hasty and inconsiderate legislation on the sidyect. Long severe snows, when the country is buried many feet deep, and he can procure no sustenance, save from the preca- rious charity of man, famishes him outright — heavy drifts, espe- cially when succeeded by a partial thaw, and a frost following the thaw, stillcs him, in whole bevies encased in icy prison- houses. It is the peculiar habit of this bird to lie still, squatted in C(m- centric huddles, as they are technically called, composed of the whole bevy, seated like the radii of a circle, with their tails in- ward, so long as snow, sleet, or rain continues to fall. So soon as it clears off, and the sun shines out, with a simultaneous effort, probably at a preconcerted signal, they all spring up at once with an impetus and rush, so powerful, as carries them clear through a snow-drift many feet in depth ; unless it be skinned over by a frozen crust, which is not to be penetrated by their utmost efforts. In this latter case, where the storm has been general over a large extent of country, the Quail are not unfrequently so near to extinction, that but a bevy or two will be seen for years, on ground where previously they nave been found in abundance ; and at such times, if they be not spared and cherished, as they will be by all true sportsmen, they may be destroyed entirely throughout a whole region. This was the case especially, through all this section of the country, in the tremendous winter of 1835-'36, when these birds, which had been previously very abundant, were almost aimihi- lated ; and would have been so, doubtless, but for the anxiety which was felt generally, and the energetic means which were taken to preseiTe them. Another peril, which at times decimates the bi-eed for a sea- son, is a sudden and violent land-flood in June and July, which drowns the young broods ; or a continuance of cold, showery, VOL. I. 17 m FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. weather, in tliose ami the preceding months, which addles the eggs, and destroys the early bevy. This is, however, hut a par- tial evil, — as the Quail rears a second brood, and, ns I have be- fore observed, sometimes a third ; so that in this case the num- ber of birds for the season is diminished, without the tribe being endangered. The open winters, which have prevailed latterly, have been exceedingly favorable to the increase of this beautifid and pro- lific little bird. Never, perhaps, have they been more abundant than they were last autumn ; and as the winter has been in all respects the most propitious ever known, there having been scarcely a single fall of snow of any magnitude, and no crust in any instance to molest them, there is every likelihood of a fine stock next autumn being raised throughout the Middle States. A little judicious legislation — a little energy combined with careful consideration of the subject, and mutual concession on the part of true sportsmen, might possibly now prcsen-e this very interesting native American from the total extinction that threatens him. It is quite clear, that neither idle good wishes, nor faineant despair, will do so. One bad winter, and the present state of things, will settle the question for us, — but the wrong way ! Unlike the young broods of the Woodcock, which are mute, save the twitter with which they rise, the bevies of Quail appear to be attached to each other by tender affection. If dispersed by accidental causes, either in pursuit of their food, or from being flushed by some casual intruder, so soon as their first alarm has passed over, they begin calling to each other with a small plaintive note, quite different from the amorous whistle of the male bird, and from their meiry daybreak cheeping ; and, each one running toward the sound, and repeating it at inter- vals, they soon collect themse'ves together into one happy little family, the circle of which remains unbroken, until the next spring, with the genial weather, brings matrimonial ardors, pair- ing and courtship, and the hope of future bevies. Il', however, the ruthless sportsman has been among them. UPLAND SHOOTING. 225 with his well-trained Setter and unerring gini, bo that death has sorely thinned their numbers, they will protract their little call for their lost comrades, even to night-fall ; and in such cases — I know not if it be a fancy on my part — there has often seemed to me to be an unusual degree of melancholy in their wailing whistle. Once this struck mo especially. I had found a small bevy of thirteen birds in an orchard, close to the house in wJiich I was passing a portion of the autumn, and in a very few minutes killed twelve of them, for they lay hard in the tedded clover, and it was perfectly open shooting. The thirteenth and last bird, rising with two others, which I killed right and left, flew but a short distance, and dropped among some sumachs in the corner of a mil fence. I could have shot him certainly enough, but some imdefined feeling induced me to call my dogs to heel, and spare his little life ; yet afterward I almost regretted what I certainly intended at the time to be mercy ; for day after day, so long as I remained in the country, I heard his sad call, from mom till dewy eve, crying for his departed friends, and full apparently of memory, which is, alas ! but too often another name for soitow. It is a singular proof how strong is the passion for the chase, and the love of pursuit, implanted by nature in the heart of man, that however much, when not influenced by the direct heat of sport, we deprecate the killing of these little birds, and pity the individual sufferers, — the moment the dog points, and the bevy springs, or the propitious morning promises good sport, all the compunction is forgotten in the eagerness and emulation which are natural to our race. It is also worthy of remark, thf.t in spite of his apparent tameness at peculiar seasons, and his willingness to be half na- turalized, the Quail has hitherto defied all attempts at perfect domestication, and has, I believe, never been known to breed in confinement, — this peculiarity going, perhaps, some way to render \nm fair gavxe. Of all birds, in this or any other country,, so far as I know '•:■■ >p :a; I' ■| [ I l\ 236 FRANK FOHESTEH S FIELD SPORTS. from personal cxjicrienco, or have liearil from others more com- petent to pronoimce on the subject, the Quail is the most difli- cult both to find and to kill with certainty. Bred in the open fields, and feeding early in the morning, and late in the afternoon, on buckwheat and other grain stub' bles, during all the rest of the day, the bevies lie huddled up to- gether in little knots, either in some small thorny brake, or under the covert of the grassy tussocks itj some bog meadow. The small compass that each bevy occupies, while thus indo- lently digesting their morning meal, renders it very easy for the best dogs to pass within six yards of them, without discovering their whereabout ; and, consequently, even wlicre the counti*y is well stocked with bevies, it is not an uncommon thing to toil a whole day through, without raising one-half the birds which have fed in the morning on your range. Again, when flushed in the open, these birds immediately fly to the thickest and most impenetrable covert they cpn find ; and in some sections of the country in which I have shot, Maryland especially, that covert is of such a nature, so interwoven with parasitic creepers, cat briars, and wild vines, and so thickly set with knotted and thorny brushwood, that they can nm with im- punity before the noses of your Pointers or Setters, and that, without the aid of cocking Spaniels, which are little used in the United States, they cannot be forced to take wing. These birds have another singular quality, which renders them exceedingly diflicult to find, even when they have been ac- curately marked down after being once flushed. It is, that for some considerable time after they have alighted, they give forth no scent whatsoever, and that the very best dogs will fail to give any sign of their presence. Whether this retention of scent is voluntary on the part of the bird. It is very diflicult to ascertain. It is a very strange power, if it be voluntary, yet not more strange than many others of the instincts possessed by wild animals. There is one thing which would lead to the conclusion that it is voluntary, or at least that the bird is conscious of the fact. UPLAND SIIOOTINO. 227 This is, that umlcr these circumstances, the birds will not rise at all, until they iiru literally almost trodden upon. It was vei-y long before I could bring myself to believe in the existence of this singular power of 8uj)pression ; and very many times, after having marked down a bevy to a yard in favorable ground, and having faiUid to start them, I have left the place, concluding ihat they had taken to the trees, or liscn again unseen by me, when I am satisfied, had I waited half an hour before proceed- ing to beat for them, I might have had good sport. I will here observe, that although Quail do, beyond doubt, occasionally take the tree, in certain localities, and in some kinds of weather, still so far as my experience goes, they do so rarely when pur- sued, and then rather in consequence of some particular habit of a single bevy, than of any natural instinct of the bird. Once again — and I have done with the difficulties of finding — particular bevies, endowed with that singular craft, whicli ap- proaches so very nearly to reason, that it hardly can be distin- guished therefrom, will fly when Hushed, invariably for many days and weeks in succession, to some one small out-of-the-way nook, or clump of briars, so long as that nook is undiscovered, thus baffling all attempts to find them. In one instance, while shooting in the vale of Warwick, with an old comrade, when returning home ' tii in the evening, and when within two hundred yards of his ho.^ itable tavern, he said he thought he could start a bevy by the stream side, where he had observed that they often roosted. Accordingly we went to the place, and had not gone ten yards into the bogs, before the Settei"s, of which we had three, all came to their jjoint simultaneously, and a large bevy of sixteen or eighteen birds jumped up before them. We got in our four barrels, and killed four birds handsomely ; and marked the birds over the comer of a neighboring wood, lowering their flight so rapidly, that we had no doubt of finding them on a buckwheat stubble, suiTounded by thick sumach bushes, and briary hedges, which lay just beyond the grove. We hunted till it was quite dark, however, without moving 1 i' ' lllll •ill j ■ 1 u.'; ■ 1 1 1 1 ' ' ■ §\ Hi r; 228 KRANK FORESTKU'S FIELD SPORTS. ■■ t;i' tho birds. On going out the next morning, we drew the bogs blank, iiiid it liecunie evident that tlicy had roosted in the jdace, wherever it was, to wliich they iiud flown, on being disturbed. We set ofl" tlierefbre, again in that direction, lioping to find them on tlicir feeding ground, but spent the greater part of tho morning trying for them in vain. We tlien took our dogs in a different direction ; and after a day's sport — whether good, bad, or indifferent, I do not now remember — again found our bevy in the same bogs, — killed u brace of tiiem only, in consequeiice of their rising wild, and tho evening having grown dark, and again marked them over tho same wood corner^the birds literally flying over the top of the very same crimson majilo which they had crossed the jjre- vious evening. It was too late to look farther after them that night, and I knew that they would not be in the bogs on the following morn- ing,— we took, therefore, a different beat, and heard no more of my bevy. On the third day, however, being 2>i'pii'd by the escape of these birds, I determined to spare no pains to find their hiding- places. We proceeded accordingly to the bogs, the first thing in the morning, found them before they had cjuitted their roost, and drove them for the third time over the top of the same red maple. These birds, be it obsen^ed, were on my old companion's own farm, every inch of which we know thoroughly, and on which there was not a brake, or tufl of rushes, likely to harbor a single bird, much less a bevy, with which we were not ac- quainted. We spent four hours beating for these birds again in vain, and left the ground in disgust and despair. In returning home, however, that night, we recrossed the same fields ; and expecting nothing less than to find game, I was walking down the side of a snake-fence, along which grew a few old apple-trees, with my dogs pretty well fagged at my heel, and my gun across my shoulder. Sudienly out of the UI'LANO SHOOTING. 229 iiioutli (»f ill! old cullai', over which a cottage had stood in past days, up wiiirlod a bovy of Quail, and away over tiie very same treo-top, Itul now in the opposite direction. On exaininini,' tiie colhir, the inside of which was fdleirds, tliat tliey had l^en in the constant iml)it of sitting tiierein, attracted thitlier prohiihly, in the first instance, by tlie apples wliicli hud fullun into tlie liollow from the trees overhead. It was as yet but early in the afternoon, and wo were so near home that wo got fresh dogs, and went to work at them again in tho bogs, where wo originally found them. Some time had elapsed, and they had run together into a single knot, rose again very wild, and ilew directly back to the old hiding-place. Tliither wo followed them at once, flushed them therein, proving most unequivocally that they had always lain iKrdu in the same small spot, and drove them out into the open. It was too dark by this time to pursue them any longer ; and afterward, though ue found them constantly in dill'erent parts of tho bog meadow, neither as a body, nor as single birds, did they ever betake themselves again to tlif cellar for refuge. Had I not accidentally blundered on that place, when think ing of anytliing rather than of the birds, I might have hunted for a month over the ground without finding them. From the cavity, and the narrowness of the mouth, a dog might have gone within a yard of it without scenting them ; and I have no doubt that mine had been more than once witiiin tliat distance of them. And hero I have done with the difficulty of finding, which by the way is not the least step toward killing our bird. It is, however, little less difficult to kill when found, than to find in tho first instance. When first flushed the bevy rise with such a whirring and tumultuous noise that they are very apt to flutter the nei-ves of a young sportsman ; and if they rise very close to tho shooter, I have often seen even tolerably good shots discharge both their barrels fi-uitlessly, from doing so much too quickly. \ t I t: -I FRANK FORESTEH'S FIELD Sl'OItTS. This i» not, however, liy any menns tlio diffirulty to wliicli 1 allude, IIS an old and HU-ady shot is of course ])reHumed to he proof iijfain.st siuli tremors; and in the ojien field, under ordi- nary ciMunistaiiceH, oui,'lit, jj;enerally, to kill his douhle shot out of every hevy that is pointed und flushed within fifteen or twenty paces. The case hecomes, however, altogetlier different after the hirds have become scattered in coppice, or yet worse, in high saplings, the very thickest part of which they most affect, after )eiiig once disturbed. There is no bird, which I have ever seen that can in the slightest degree compare with the Quail for the rapidity with which it takes wing, und the short space which it requires to got under full headway. It really is wonderful to observe the ox- traordinary speed and commnnd of wing with which this bird will dart through the most intricate and tangled brake, yet I have never seen a single instance of their flying foul of a tree or getting entangled in a thicket, as will sometimes happen to uic Riifled Grouse, und mu<.li more frequently to the Eurojjean Pheasant. The Quail flies, as I have said, with extreme rapidity in a di- rect line, rather ascending for the most part, but rarely or never dodging and jiitching to and fro like a Snipe or Wood- cock. It has a habit likewise if not pointed, of lying hard until you have passed it, and then flirting up behind your back ; in which case your first intimation of its whereabout is the sharp whirr of its wing, and you must bestir yourself hastily indeed, yet coolly withal, and you must have the eye of instinct, and the nerve of steel, to cut him down handsomely under such cir- cumstances. It may be added to this catalogue of difficulties, that in flying from, you, as the Quail does in a great majoiity of cases, he presents to the aim of tlie sportsman a vital centre little larger than a cent piece, with two radii formed by the slender pinions, in which small target four or five shot must be lodged to bring him down with any certainty; so that it will not appear Ul'LAND SHOOTI.NO. 931 ri'iirirkiiMo if, with a gun that scatters its cimrpe, oven a iroMil sliot miss this liinl even at u siioi't raiigu ; and that at tliiity or forty paces tiio very host guns, aimed with perfect procision, fail frociuuiitly of killiii'j duan. The Quail is a very l)ravo bird, inoro(»vcr. Ho will carry off a great quantity of siiot, if not lodged in a vital part, and will fre(|uent'.y, oven when mortally wounded, particularly if shot through the brain or heart, and going before the wind, fly till life leaves him in mid air, and oven after that will be pro- pelled by the riipidity of his previous motion and the buoyancy of his still extended wings, for many yards farther in a descend- ing line. A singular instance of this occurred to myself while shooting ill the Highlands of the Hudson, nearly opposite to West Point, with two friends, in November, ISIIO. Wo were beating a bare field on one of the lower hills of that chain, in which were several shallow ravines lying nearly parallel to each other, [lointing transversely downward. I was in the lowest of throe gulleys with a brace of dogs, and perhaps a hundred yai'ds in advance of my companions, each of whom, with one dog, was making good another parallel gorge. The wind was blowing keeidy and coldly on our backs, and before us lay a long range of open fields sloping steeply toward the river, with a piece of young woodland, bounded by a stone wall on the hither side, beyond them. Finding no game myself, I was suddenly put on the alert by the quick shout, " mark ! mark !" from behind, somewhat to my left ; and in the next moment a large bevy of birds, which had been raised by my friends and circled round my back, passed me within twenty paces to the right. It struck me at the time, that I never had seen birds fly so fast ; they had already traversed sufficient space to have gained the full momentum of their own velocity, and had in their favor all the impetus that the swift wind, directly before which they were flying, could give them. I was shooting with a gun that ■ i far more rertaiiily iifter half an hour has clajised. For myself, I have found it tlie best plan, where woods are small, and the covert thick, to go on beating the open fields, without I'ollowing the bevies at all, in the first instance, marking them down care- fully wlicn they rise, until the feeding and running hour has passed, — then to follow bevy after bevy, whither you have seen them alight ; and knowing their whereabout, if not the exact spot where they lie, the dogs will soon find them. Otherwise, if one wastes the morning in killing off one bevy, by the time he has done with it, the birds will have crept aAvay into their hiding-places, and he may hunt the wood-skirts, and brush-holes, all day along, without finding another, even where they abound, unless he blunder upon one by chance. During the heat of the day, if one have not I'ound birds in the morning, although it is pretty much chance work, bog mea- dows, brown bushes on southei'ly and westerly hill-sides, old pastures with much bent and ragwort, and the skirts of cop- pices, are generally the best ground, though in some regions they will be found in large open woodlands. In the afternoon, soon after four o'clock, the bevies again begin to nin and feed, and in this part of the day they will fre- quently be met running along the grassy margins of streams which flow through pasture-fields, whither they resort to drink, or at least to crop the wet herbage. So good is the chance of sport at this time, that I would urge it strongly on the sportsman who has failed of finding his bevies on the feeding ground in the morning — if he know that there is a fair show of birds in the district — not to persist in wearing out himself and his dogs, by fruitless toil in the heat of noon, but rather to await the cool afternoon, when he will very often make up for lost time, and make a heavy bag when circumstances have looked least auspiciously. I have now set my sportsman faii-ly in the field, and shown him how best he may find his birds, — more is beyond my means. A crack shot must in some sort be bom ; but most persons, - UPLAND SHOOTING. 837 witli good cycsiromptitudc in catching this first sight which alone constitutes — what my poor friend, .1. Cypress, Junior, used to call the rarest work of nature — a truly cool, truly quick, crack shot. With regard to hunting dogs on Quail, there is a great deal to be said ; and in nothing is the tnie and thoroughbred sports- man more distinctly marked from the cockney pot-hunter, than by his skill, temper, and success, in managing bis four-footed companions. Quail shooting, as the most difficult of all shooting, and re- quiring the greatest natural qualifications, and most perfect training in the dog, demands also the greatest science in the person who hunts the dog. The great desiderata here are, first, to know precisely what a dog ought to do, — and, second, to make him do it. In this country, far more sportsmen fail in the first — in Eng- land more in the second particular. It were scarce too much to say, that four sportsmen, in their own opinion, here, out of five, know so little what are the re- quisite performances and capabilities of a dog, that within twelve months after buying a perfectly well-broke dog, they permit him to lose all he has ever known, merely from failing to exercise his abilities, and punish his eccentricities. •." ■ I. 238 FRANK FOHESTKR's FIELD SPOUTS. As in all other tuition, reward and punishment must both l)e brought into play ; hut it is a great thing to rememher that, while a dog should ncrcr bo allowed to disobey an order, or to commit a fault unpunished, it is well neither to harass him by unnecessary commands, nor to tempt into faults by over exac- tion. Moreover, a dog cannot be managed with too little shouting. He should be accustomed always to obey the whistle ; and he will very soon learn to understand the meaning invariably attached to any combinations of that sound, turning his head to observe the gesture of your hand, by which he may be directed to beat this way or that, to back his fellow's point, or to dow.- charge — the signal for the two latter duties being the same, — the hand held aloft, with an erect arm, open, with the palm facing the dog, the fingers closed, but the thumb extended. This motion ought to arrest a dog at the top of his speed, the instant his attention is called to it, as suddenly as if he were shot dead ; and tlie advantages gained from the strictest enforce- ment of the rule, are too palpable to demand further comment. If, therefore, a Setter, or Pointer, is broke to lie down im- mediately to charge, on the firing of a shot, and to turn his bend at every whistled call of his master, thereafter obeying one or two simple gestures, the necessity for roaring like a bull of Bashan, as is the practice of most dog-breakers, and all cockney sportsmen, will be entirely obviated. The advantages of which will be, that you will not flush four-fifths of all the game within hearing, nor drive your fellow sportsmen crazy, if they happen to be blessed with nerves ; and not render yourself as hoarse as a waterman on a hackney-coach stand, by bellowing out orders, which your dog, nine times out of ten, cannot hear, being to windward of you. A shrill ivory whistle should always be hung from the button- hole of the jacket, and a heavy dog-whip invariably earned in the pocket ; but, although neither of these, in their way highly useful implements, should be suffered to enjoy a sinecure, it is almost unnecessary to observe that of the last, even more than Dl'LANU SHOOTING. 230 of the first, the real utility will be greatly diminiuhed by too frequent applicntion, I shall have farther occasion to speak of the management of dogs, and indeed of the habits and mode of shooting Quail like- wise, under the head of " General Autumn Shooting," which will follow the few remarks I shall proceed to make on Pin- nated and Ruffed Grouse shooting, as practised apait from the pursuit of other game. VOL. r. 18 I ■■■■ !'t= ; I nng to . u. button- Tied in bigWy re, it is re than 240 KKANK FORESTEk's FIELD SPORTS. HUFFED GROUSE SHOOTING, lii VULOO, PAUTRIDOE HIIOOTINO. T was my misfortune once — once only, gontlo reaJer — in my life, to bo socluceil into umlertii- king an excursion very late in the season, a few days only lie- fore Christmas, into the interior of Connecticut, for the especial purpose of shooting the Ruffed Grouse, or as it is there termed. Partridge. I went on the representation of a friend, who while Cock- shooting on that ground, early in the autumn, before the leaves weri' down, had moved an immense number of these birds, which were then in broods with the old hen. Ho assured m(!, as he fully expected would prove the case, that we should cer- tainly get twenty or thirty fair shots each, daily ; and in consequence I looked for great sport. The result was, that, although we had two brace of as good Setters as any in the country, and fagged steadily and resolute- ly during four successive days, we bagged seven birds between us ; two only over points ; and certainly did not fire altogether, at snap shots and long range, above ten or eleven shots. On other occasions, once or twice, I have been persuaded, contrary to my opinion, to go out of my way to beat for Ruffed Grouse, or to devote a day to their especial pursuit, but I never in any one case have been successful. UPLAND SHOOTING. 841 The Ruffed Grouse, after the broods liave separated and left tlie hens, are tlie wililost and most wary birds 1 liavo ever pur- sued, when the woody nature of the haunts which they affect is taken into consideration. They have also the most ramblintj; habit of any Amori(!aii game-bird, except the Turkey ; it not l)eiiig an uncommon thing for the single birds, or the small companies into which they sometimes form themselves, to wander on the foot, without taking wing at all, ten or twelve miles, at a stretch, over rough hills and through deep wood- lands. Add to this, that their favtjrite resorts are the steep ledgy sdcs of rocky hills, covered with thick wood, and that generally of evergreens, as pine, hemlock, or red cedai-, with an undergrowth of the great mountain rhododendron, com- monly known as laurel. It is the characteristic of this sort of woodland, that, while the foliage is very thick and intricate above, on a level with the breast and eyes of the sportsman, it is for the most part perfectly open and clear below ; so that while the hunter has the greatest difficulty in seeing his birds, the birds have none whatever in seeing him or his dogs. They consecjuently start on the full run — and he who has tried to secure one when wing-tipped or slightly wounded, without the aid of dog, knows what pace that is — the moment the sports- man enters the wood; and after keeping the dogs trailing and roading on their scent for a mile or two, either flap up unper- ceived into a tree, or take wiu'j: at a hundred yards' distance ; and in either case get away unshot at. On this account, they are the most trying bird to the temi^er of a dog that possibly can be imagined, as it is comparatively speaking of very rare occurrence that they will lie to be pointed, and flushed over the point. The exception to this rule is where they are found, which is rarely the case, in low, swampy thickets of heavy covert, in level country. In such places, if you have the luck to find them, you are almost certain of great sport ; for, where the ground is thick and tangled at the bottom, they will squat, I n m , i ''I 542 FRANK FORESTKR's FIELD SPORTS. I! !i I I fiiuliriEf tliemsolves uiiiil)lc to run, uiid will lie, on such occa- ijionH, till tlicy uie literally kicked up. I liiive never, in nil my experience of shooting in this coun- try, Heen this occur l)iit twice; iinil in fact the l)irtl is so seKloni found in lowland country, that I consider it utterly useless to go out in pursuit of RuH'ed Grouse, excc2)t as an adjunct with other birds of bolder and freer winjr. One of the instances I have alluded to above, is perhaps not unworthy of notice, as I believe it to be almost uni(pie ; lor I have mot no sportsman who has secui any thintr of the sort occur with the Ruffed Grouse, though with the Prairie Hen it often happens. It occurred during early autumn shooting, on the second or third of November, immediately af^er the law of New-Jersey permits this bird and the Quail to be shot; and Woodcock had not as yet forsaken the country. I was beating for game in general, but rather with a view to Cock than any other bird, in a long, nar.ow swale, between a steep ridge and an ojicn meadow, along the edge of which my comjianion was walking, while I myself made good the whole width of the alder coppice with my dogs. Suddenly both the Setters came to a dead point at a small patch of thick briai-s and brambles close to the meadow fence, and, on my walking up to them, finding that nothing moved, I took it for granted that it was a Hare, and called out to my friend to look out, as I would beat it out to him. On kicking the briars, however, to my great surprise a very fine Ruffed Grouse, a cock bird, rose within ten i'eet of me, and flew directly across mo toward the hill Unfortunately, my friend fired at the bird across me, contrary to all rules of sport manship, so that two charges were wasted on this bird ' »r immediately, at the report, three more birda rose out of the same brake, two of which flew across him over the open meadow, both of which he must have killed had he reserved his fire, as he should have done, while the third follow •id the coi'k across the swale to the ridge, till I stojjped him. Taking it for granted that nil the birds must have gone now, four barrels having been fired directly over the thicket in which iPLAxn snooTiNr;. 213 and they hiy, 1 miide sorae oliscrviition to my (•(impniiinn ahout liis rasliness in firing; wlicn tln-cc nion* birds wliirrfd out of tlio KJimc biisli in (piick siiccrssion, nnd of course pot away iinsliot at, all onr barrels lu-intj i-nipfy. Alter I bad l(>ad(;d, yet an cii,ditli bird got up a few yards ahead, having crept out, T imagine, while the dogs were at down ciiarge, nnd I was foitu- nato enough to kill it also — thus bringing four Kuded Gn»us«! to bag, which were Rpnuig one by one, or very nearly so, out of a t!;icket less than thirty feet in circnmf(Mence. ^V'e ouglit certainly to have got one more bird, at least ; and had we been as silent as we should, might possibly have biigged them all, for they all rose within four or five yards of our gun-muz/les, and the place was quite open and fair shooting ground. I never saw a more evident jiroof of the great propri(>fy, and great gain, of attending striittly to the most minute rules of eportsmanship and woodcraft; like laws of military tactics, they can never be violated with impunity ; and though we ob- serve them ninety-nine times, the violation on the hunlredth will almost certainly prove disastrous. I know an instance of a good sportsman in the city of New- York, whose name I do not record, giving him the credit of a remarkable feat; because, being in business, it might injure him among those gentry of the street, who think n(» hunting but dollar-hunting rcujiectahlc ! who actually brought to bag eight Pinnated Grouse, in succession, without 1 imself moving from his ground, or his dog breaking its point. This occurred, some years since, on Martha's Vineyard ; but, as I have obsei-ved before, I know no authentic instance of the RuflTed Grouse ever lying in the same manner, after the separation of the broods. Befoi'e that period, they of course lie to the dog as the Quail, the Prairie Hen, or the Grouse of the British Isles. Hence, I consider the day fixed by our legislature for the end of close time, as too late in regard to the Ruffed Grouse. The constantly repeated tale, that the Ruffed Grouse when it alights in trees in companies, which it occasionally will do, in the spring, when eating the young buds, of which it is extremely I '» I' ! \ I- ,! 1 i-l !;i ^14 FIIAMC FOHKSTnil S FIKLD SPcinTS. fund, will iiUnw tlic wliolo Hock to bo hIioI down, imc Iiy itTin, williniit stiniin,', j»nivi»l(!on not«'s fliis fact, with liis wonted uccunicy ; iidding tluit durintf lioiivy snow stoiins ho hns somcfinicH killed tlii'co or four. This is crcdildo cnougli ; stnrvjition will niuko any l)ird or hcnst tame, and snow appears, while i'lillini'', to liavo a peculiar eflect on i)irds (d'this oriler — uidike ruin, which makes them wild — renderiiiuf them very unwillii}'; to rise. — Sdi'ttgr.s in this region of country — 1 can designate them hy no oIImm" name — olh'ii shoot whole bevies of Quail while hiuhlled together on the ground in their little circles, during snow Bto ms, in this maimer, at a single shot. 80 far, however, are such foul practices from deserving to he recorded us modes of killing game, that I oidy speiik of them here, in order to uphold them, and all wlio priu'tico them, to the contempt and alil.or- rcuce of every one who would he termed a sportsman. I have hcen told that these birds exist in sudi i.bundance on tht! Kaatskills, and in all that region of country, that it is well wortli the while to go out in jmrsuit of them, withf)ut reference to, or rather with no chance of finding any other species of game. This I, at least, shall never attempt ; nor shall I ever advise any person to. do so. I know that they abounded in that district of Connecticut of which I have spoken above, as was proved by the fact that many scores were offered to me for purchase, which had been snared, yet it was impossible to get shots at them over dogs. Again, throughout the semi-cultivated portions of all the Eastern States, and especially in Maine, the woods are literally full of them ; yet such are their peculiarities of habit, that it is useless to attempt to have sport with them. A man, stealing along the old gi'assy wood roads, keeping absolute silence and a bright look out, may manage to pick up a brace or two in the course of a day, and this is probably more than the best sports- man living can effect with the best dogs, in that region of coun- try ; but that is not sport for sportsmen ! 1 the erally it it is caling c and in tho ports- coun- pri,AND SiroOTINO. Tho RiifTtHl (Jjuiiso is a siii-jfulaily h'lHilsomo hinl, whotlior oil th(' ground or on tlin wing ; loiduii^:, iVoiu tho loosonosH and downy lialiit of liis luatiicrs, consiili'niidy largor iIum; lio ruiiliy i.s. Ill- ri.Hcs with a visiy loud wliiiiing of I is wings — wiiicii Mr. Aiidiilton assurls so positively, tliat [ must siipposo so accu- rate an ohsorvcr to ho surely correct, to l?o uttered merely at moments of alarm and sudden trepidation, tho hird when not lorced to take wing, rising noiselessly — and gets under w;iy with (ixtromc! rapidity. In genera!, tliis hird does not rise mucli higher than a man's head, and then Hies very straight, and very swiftly, at an even elevation for several iiundred yards; afttsr which it will set hotli its wings, and sail dead heforo tho wind with immense vcdocity. To kill the RiiTed (Jrouse, when thus skating down-wind, as it crosses you, having heen Hushed at a distance it is necessary to allow a considerahle space for tho swiftness of its motion ; and I should lire not less than two feet in front of one, at thirty-five or forty yards' distance. Going directly away from tiie gun, tlie Uulfcd Grouse, liko the Quail, is an awkward hird to kill, from tho fact, that they hoth fly with tho body so nearly level, that tho rump and hard bones of tho back receive the shot ; and in this part of tho body they will have to be struck very heavily, before they will fall. Tt is a good plan in this position to shof)t a little low, as you are far more apt to over than to under-slioot them. A cross shot, if not too far oft', is easily killed ; as the bird alFords a fair mark, and will not carry oif nearly so much shot as the Quail, if struck well forward. Beginners are apt to shoot behind all their cross shots, and perhaps especially so at this bird, his long tail and loose feathers tending to deceive them. It is a matter of exceeding surprise to me, that this bird has not been naturalized in Gi'oat Britain. Its extreme hardihood would render its success certain ; and in every part of the coun- try, but in the woodland and forest counties especially, Dorset- shire, Devonshire, parts of Essex, the New Forest, throughout Wales, and in many districts of the North Country, and Scot- 'I 'I I I III '» ; t ! I i ; •1. <«»*!, ■I i; m I ' i! 246 FRANK FORKSTEK S FIELD SPORTS. , land, it would very soon l)ccomc fibundnnt. Tiidecd, the hedge- rows would he sufHciciit to hold it, everywhere ; and from what I hiivc seen, and slated above, ot" its hahits in the low grounds here, I do not do>ibt that it would there afFoi'd sport equal to any English l)ird, ex(;ept the Red Grouse. Its flesh is delicious, if dressed properly. It will bear to be kept hanging, in the autumn, two or three weoks with manifest advantage ; it slwuld bo roasted quickhj, before an extremely hot fire ; and it should be exposed at once to the full heat, at a short distance, so as to sear the pores of the skin, and prevent the exudation of the juices ; after a few minutes it may be withdrawn from the focus of heat, until ii, shall be cooked through. It should be eaten, as should tlie Grouse and Quail, with bread sauce and Jried crumbs, — any soil of jelly, or sweet condiment, with any galli- naceous fowl, or any meat that is not immoderately fat and lus- cious, is an abomination. As a variety, either this bird, or the Quail, is delicious lai'ded, boiled, and smothered in celery sauce ; and the Quail, en passant be it said, is undeniable in a pie, with a fat rump steak at the bottom of the dish, a dozen hard-boiled eggs, and the slightest possible soupgoN of garlic, and one cayenne pepper-pod. If intended to be eaten cold, both birds are better boiled than roasted ; as they will be found on trial much juicier, and less dry, than in the usual mode. I'lie plan resorted to by French cooks, who never know how to cook any sort of game, except in salmis, or the like, of blan- keting these birds in pork fat, cut thin, before roasting them, is, of course, entirely wrong. It pi-events the gi'and desideratum, namely, the searing of the skin, so as to make it contain the na- tural juices ; and, instead of its own game gravy, saturates it with the essential oil of 2>'g- The epicure will p'-efer the back-bone and thighs of this deli- cious bird; and, by saving them for himself, he will also gain the credit of great disinterestedness from the ladies, and the mobs, — Heaven forbid that I should intend a comparison, in thus uniting them ! but it is a fact that they both invariably UPLAND SHOOTING. L>47 prefer the bosom, ns T believe it is the fashion of tlicsc modest ilitys to term the white meat. For the benefit of what the French arc pleased to call amphi- tryons, the excellent men who are rich enough to girc good dinners, and of the happy men who are allowed to cat them, I will add, that red wine is the thing with game of all kinds. The rlgjit thing of all is Ckamhcrtin, or clos de Vougcot ! but, in tlofault of these, a sound Lajlttc or IdUtour claret is excel- lently well in place. Champagne is not the thing in the least ; and, for those who aspire to feed themselves or their friends creditably, without aiming at the expense of the costly French red wines, allow me to suggest, that a glass of good gold sherry is perfectly allowable with game. Excejit at a ball supper, no one, except counter-jumpers, ever think of champagne, beyond oni^ tumbler with the roti, Tlie next thing to killing your game handsomely, after find- ing it gnostically, is undoubtedly knowing how to set it on the table, for the benefit of your friends, in perfection, and with the proper accessories; and a hint or two on this subject may be pardoned, even in a work on field sports, — especially where such abominations are practiced, as eating Snipe and Woodcock high, drawing the trail, and broiling them ; and eating currant, or plum jelly, with roast Grouse ; or cranberries with venison. Nothing in my eyes is more contemptible, than the man who cannot rough it upon occasion, — who cannot dine heartily, and with a relish, on a bit of cold salt pork, and a crust of bread, when he can get nothing better; but nothing is more stupidly, or hopelessly savage, than the man who does not care what he eats. In the code of game-cookery, the giidiron is an article of the kitchen prohihitcd, unless in the case of a venison steak, a Bear chop, or a Wild Duck. To broil a Quail, or a Grouse, much more a Snipe, or a Woodcock, ought to be made — Vikefrijing a beefsteak — death without benefit of clergy. !i ' i-f J L'lS FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. GROUSE SHOOTING HIS noble sport I have never myseli Lad an opportunity of enjoying, though I still live in the hope of finding myself 'on some fine autumnal morning, in the Western Prairies, with two or three brace of good dogs, a staunch compan- ion, and all appurtenances suitable for a month's sport. They are in all respects the noblest bird, which is to be shot over Pointers in the United States ; and the vast numbers in which they are still found in their own Prai- rie-land, the magnificent range of country which is spread out be- fore the eye of the sportsman, the openness of the shooting, and the opportunity of observing all the motions of the dogs, must render this sport, like the Red Grouse shooting in Great Britain, the Queen of American field sports. Jn the state of New Jersey a few packs of these fine birds still breed annually among the sandy pine barrens along the southern shore ; the best of these shooting grounds are now exclusively oc- cupied by three or four gentlemen resident in the vicinity of Bur- lington, Bordentown, and Trenton, who either rent or have pur- chased them for the purpose of sporting thereon, and on the pre- tence of wishing to preserve them. I say the pretence, for I grieve to say that no feeling of chivalrous sportsmanship deter these gentlemen, some of whom are excellent shots, from butch- ering these noble birds even in the month of July, when thfy are utterly unfit for killing ; and for this outrage on sportsman- ship and humanity, there is the less palliation — excuse or justifi- cation, there never can be any — in that occupying the grounds ex- clusively, they are safe from the apprehension of being anticipa- t 'd by poachers or pot-hunters. Why, then, they should them- p . 1 rds still outhern vcly oc- of Bur- ive pur- the pre- for I p deter butcli- cn tlicy vtstnavi- justifi- nds ex- nticipa- them- M i..ti .'■I ' (.:• •'! .":-.'T- (.' K 0 !j SI.; Nil 'lO ': [.\ . ; J— •!—-•:. ™J«.»^ ..••.•., ! I / . IKi.'Jr .••,!T. I lilt' ■ .ii;i' ll'lMHi h 1 !;ii rr.. ;■ '.|, "li.. I . ' ' •< 'l"!.''-. 1 .'^1^:' '■!! •'"ilii" ill- • ' i' .? , ui-\ Vi.tk:.; s suit.j!) • ;'<.(• .■■.■11 •,'■ -■ ,,, 1 l'i.0 V ,;i ..-■:'■ :| l/'W r !■'.!■ n ■■U)iUt;i"v iilihip^ •„ : -■niuv OMi' *':■ 'I, \^ i,!.'l ..' '••1. • ';!•'. . ''li.l'-^- r: •< '1i • ■,• .i ,■ ." '!■ ' ,-, ■■: <:.■■ ■ rix; . ;-. . !i' "'pi 'I ' 'li i' ■ 'f ■ : '■■•<'''■, '• i,; ,.,li • ' •ll'l t '\] ^■■,>>:\ 111.. !^.' i^ .< ijf ■: 1'- ()M' ■•I •);' 'i 'r- . 1 MI! ll.;!il '•»)■ r -. |-i !'■•; -it;!*... • r :■ 1 r] rui.ut.'i'lv iilihip ni.T."' : the i>. -i: >:.: \\,\..-r hi'-iMij r.'i ■ jpinl ^y 'ii ■.: ■ •■ ; Mr _ )(■- •■;. u p i-ii,!;t.r'i;, Iji.ii-uoir- ',vu, w-l I \ .i.iii. iArvv ■.! fiv-rn i'.;! th.' jiMV^'i-.e ,,1' s|,. ; ";i;h il wi.-..i!.;iu |..i [, r.-. /v tl-.. •■ ri-yc l.» :^iiy t,, ;1 im i ■ ii- ;; i,!' • 1^ '^.- ;;ri),iioni(;ii., ^oun .;!' i.,,oii. ■ '.•.•in:r tin •" uoliln I):'!''"! < !■ i :i, *■•,' nti, fl7 iii.iif fn' kiniiii: ; ■^■ 'b.'p (i::'l liuiitMii'y. tin i : ij t! ri.*i--iTl. rllciC Mi'Vt"- -lUi '.I'llfiV '.■!': -is^ iv, fill- V MO --nl'i i'ro'f, ' ^ il ;OSi:;- -J (l.t: li f l.-'«i, il. !':■ :..| ■-., ,t,..i. . ,;! .'. I ' l! ■■;•■ >Mvii 1^;:ii- '■ I'-i: '■■! ■;';■ .'! '-lU .-'■• ■ ■ '' '!.■• i''.'iin'r, 'inl ■ ■ ■ ■ ■' liri' i>n,' ■ ••■..■ hii'Usti]! •.: tl.'' - 'itlinrii • X!.]"SlvU u ■- i;inii_, i^fVli:;-- ■••M. ■, f )l ;Vn j..Ur- ■■'■ .'.;i'! on i'l- ])!•. •■ i-l-' 'pil toilfv, *',!■ i -['I" ' • ;i!;i.M.siii|i .!• : , i nt -I: .t;5, r.ciii ;,.!;•.•!,- ;• iiilv, Wiu II lli; y ■■ '•■" ■■:>' ■ n yf.t II,. lU- '..tli.' • ■,;J((;U ■•• •>!■ jn.-til ■ ri.n.v i .g ilii' (j;c.| im"].; ,.j,- . •im'^ii i.f 1-ii ii-i:r (u.iti.iiii.i- or -j.^it _i. t! I, ■ III' ,' -nr>'i llCMl- rii ,|A = :,,,l Ji ' ' ' y . ■IL" ..!>! . !''..!• 11" \,U V;:''- > --I :\ '.'■■• i\!" . 'uvl ., |.-iU-t. \ \ li' lin, L M U still ..thorn ,- ,.iJr- Mi vii' y M iu-tu- ■ iiti'-.ip''- •I llU'lll- ^ (m • ) Ji;,; I » < ^11 I 1 1,; IKp !* ■ ^ 1; UPLAND SHOOTING. 249 selves poach and pot-hunt, is absolutely inL'xplicaLlo and incon- ceivable. 1 trust that this notice, from which I have purposely withhold the names of the offenders, in order to avoi I personali- ty, will deter them from the like criminality in future against the letter and spirit of the laws, which should rule all true sportsmen. In Martha's \'inoyard tiiey are so strictly preserved, that 7 have never taken the trouble of travelling thither on the chance of obtaining permission to slinot at tleni, although I am well aware that there are sportsmen from New York who resort lliither yearly in pursuit of them. On the barrens of Kentucky, where they formerly aboiiiulod, as in the Eastern States, they have become e.\tiiRt ; and, in trulb, unless the sjiortsman is prepared to travel so far as Chicago, St. Joseph's, or St. Louis, he has not much chance of obtaining any- thing to rewai'd his pains, in the way of Grouse shooting; rnd it is, perhaps, worth observing, thut in the present advanced state of internal communication with the Western Country, there is no I'eal difficulty, and no great expense, in the way ol' the adventurer who would try his fortune on the Heath-Hen in its own wild haunts. The facilities of steamboat travel are par- ticularly favorable to the transportation of dogs ; and it would, doubtless, well repay a party to set oH' at any time after the first of September, with a strong kennel, for thn prairies. This Grouse breeds early, the nest being generally finished on the firet of May ; the eggs are rarely more than twelve in number, the hen sits eighteen or nineteen days, and the young run so soon as they are hatched. Tliis species never raises a second brood, unless the first is destroyed. About the first of August the young are about equal in size to the Quail, and are, I regret to say, at that age, and a little older, butchered, and pronounced e.xcellent eating by men who take the name of sportsmen. A writer in the " Turf Register," under the title of "Tom Trigor," a fellow of infinite humor, and of so very con'ect opinions on a great variety of topics, that I mai"vel at his prac- tice in regard to Grouse, discourses thus on the habits .and modes of shooting this bird, as he understands them : — HfTlM M-> 11 . ^i: n i i'm m 250 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. i I '). ■ 1 ! i !i: : ! »■♦ '' Well then," says ho, " these iioMo liirds early in Soptcm- her, or even so soon iis late in August, who have whoojjcd, nntl sti-utted, and trumpeted the live-long spring and suninior, the undisturbed possessors of the prairies, are now leading about theirbroods, some three-quarter parts grown, and they are at no time in better condition for broiling, the most delicate spring chickens yielding to them in flav(ir ; and, at the'same time, their behavior in the field is far more satisfactory, and accommodat- ing, than at any other period of their lives. They iioav, wliesi once they have scattered, stick to their concealment in the long grass, till you kick them up with your foot, and the amount you can then bag, need be limited only by your forbearance or your industry." In my humble opinion, " Tom Trigor's" gastronomy and hia sportsmanship are about on a par, lioth execrable. The man who would broil a Grouse at all, when he could possibly cook it otherwise, or who could compare it by way of praise with a spring chicken, must have about as much idea of the qualities of game on the table, as he who thinks they are in perfection for shooting, when they are too weak to rise on the wing. I should think their conduct would be more satisfactory yet, to such a guniur, before they could fly at all. Seriously speaking, from all the really good sportsmen with v/hom I have spoken of Grouse shooting, I learn that the defect in the sport consists in the extraordinary tameness of the bird, and the infinite facility of knocking it down at the commence- ment of the season, — the killing, in fact, partaking almost the character of butchery. To quote once more from the writer above cited : — " Let the gnostics preach about its being not 'sportsmanlike, and unhand- some, to knock down more birds than you can consume.' I'll make out, when I can, my twenty brace notwithstanding ; and I have never seen Grouse yet at such a discount, at this season of the year, but what all that could be killed could be consumed ; and, if I haply should a little overstock the market, there is no feaj of thinning ofl' the tribe, for their name is legion, and the UPLAND SIIOOTINf}. 2.11 the farmers will not grlovo wlieii tlu-y reflect that there will be, at any rate, by so much iho fewer (lej)re(lators on their corn-fiekln next mitumii and winter, when it may truly bo said, they are frillies coimuinerc nati. Moreover, we must make llie mist of them now, for in six weciks tliey will chantre their charm'i'':' 'ind habits so entirely, that by no ingenuity can we possibly -.i near onou'^h for a shot; ami the dtsvils, thouifh they now luml.lo over on the reception of two or three No. 8 shot, will then carry off as much lead as a Galena steamboiit. It is astonishin'j: how dilKcnlt the fnll-^rown birds are to kill, — I have known them, when riddled with No. l s'lof, to tly entirely out of siirht and leave yon lnMidin minent merit tliat lie lan endure more hours of thirst, than any other of the dog kind. Tiie Setter, on the con- trary, very s|)eedily loses his power of scenting, and soon after- wards his whole energy and strength, in hot weather, whero water is not to he ohtained. For this reason, to the Eastward, in Now Jersey, and Pciuisylvania, in all of which, hrush pliiins, pines, and oak barrens, the soil is e(pially dry and sterile, the I'ointer is as much preferred, as he is in the similarly dry Par- tridge shooting of England. The IJritish moors, on which the lied and Black Gnmso are found, abound with sjjrings, well- heads, brooks, and morasses, and on these the greater speed, daring, and dash of tlu; Setter, as well as the advantiige he de- rives from his well-protected hairy feet, gives him the call decidedly over his smooth-haired rival. Mr. Audubon observes on this point, " In the western coun- try they rarely stand before the Pointer; and I think the Setter a more profitable dog there ;" but I nnist confess myself entirely at a loss to comprehend the meaning oi this passage. In Eurojie, it is very true that the Setter naturally crouches close to the ground, falling flat on his belly when he comes on the scent of his game even at full speed, and flattening himself the nearer to the earth, the nearer he is to his game, while the Pointer invariably stands erect to jioint his game. If this distinction held good in this country, the meaning of the above passage would be clear, but such is not the case. There is no difference whatsoever, of which I am aware, in the style of Pointers and Setters finding and pointing their game on this side the Atlantic. I have always shot over Setters, pre- ferring them, by all odds, for general work, and have owned at least a dozen good ones myself since I liave been in the country, besides shooting over scores belonging to other persons, and I never in a single instance have seen a Setter set a bird in America. This is not a distinction of training but of natura] ' ' t'l i :H i'li" 1 M I im '.'iii i ; 2/54 FUANK I'OKKSTKB S I lELU Sl'llllTS. i habit in tlio liicfs ; mid it is wnrtliy ol" n-rimrk tliiit tlit; lit'Mt i1i>j» I cviT owiii'd luMo wu.s Olio wliicli I imported from Eiinliiiid wliiMi II siiiiill imp, and lind biokt! in New .TeiHoy. I lu-vt-r HMw cillicr liis dam or liis siio, over hotli vvliicli 1 hIioI in Knjj- huu], jioi/if a liini, iind I n«!ver Haw liim set one. Tin' lirwt liird lio ever Hcenti'd waw ii Woodcock, on the fourlli of July, and flmt he xfootl, witli licud and Ntern liigli in the air, as yhowiiy as I ever saw a Pointer stand. Nothing has tjver puz/.hfd nio more completely as regards field sports than tliis fact, and I cannot iigiire to myself any Hiason that is at all satisfactory for the difference of habit, in the two countries. I have sometimes fancied that it might arise from soil or cliiiiato rendering the scent colder here than in ]"]nglaiid — for i-t is certain that the hotter the sjent, the closer the dog .vcAv — but I cannot see that this holds g u)d by analogy, as I think dogs find and point their game fully as far off hero as in Europe. This obsenation of Mr. Audubon's has brought tlie mutter, at this moment strongly to my mind, and has almost raised a doubt within me, whether to the Westward the Setter may not possibly resume his natural inclination to set rather than stand his game. In wooded regions it is to be remarked, that these birds are rarely if ever to be found among open groves and tall timber, such as are peculiarly loved by the Ruffed Grouse; they fre- fjuent tracts of low bushes and stunted underwood ; and when on the wing will fly for miles rather tlian alight until they can find a clear ])lace, such us an old road-way, or a new cutting, in which to settle. They generally run forward swiftly as soon as they strike the ground, and not unfreiiuently press themselves into thick covert, where they squat, and are compelled to lie hard by the difficulty which they experience in taking wing, from the opposition of the dense foliage. They are a shy bird in covert ; and are of course much wilder to the Eastward, where they are incessantly persecuted, than in the Western Country. ■1 ■ ids are jtiniber, Icy iVe- ll wlieii Ley can Ittiug, in I soon as Imselves to Ue |g wing, be much l-secutetl, trPt.AND SHOOTIMi. y/i/i The Gronsn iiiviiirihly miikcs a cluckiii'^f noise wIumi it takes wirv^ Ix'luie a flo'^, mid il" it rises witliiii distimco, is a very diisy shut. Xi). 8 (Mirly in llio season, ami later Xo. /), arc tlic! Ix st sizes of slifil. Aller that, I slionid prefer rcil lily's ciiitridijes, of No. 5 Hlidt, wliicli T will lie hound to say will fetch them from a gond twelve or fonileen i^na^e irnii of proper wei'.jlit, liold by a (piiik hand, and levelled by a true oyo, at any periotl of the season. Mr. .Vndn )on observes, contrary to the remarks cited id)ovo from W Ison and Dr. Mitchill, thiit the (imnsi! drinks when in a stat(! of nature, like the common fowl, and farther, that it is oxceediiiijly Huscoptiblo of domestication, even breedint,' freely in captivity. The remarks with roijard to licatinir with dops for the Quail and llnlfed (rrouso, and for sliootini^ both tliose birds on the will!?, except so far as they are here modified, are all applica- ble to the Prairie or Heath-Hen. The flesh of this bird ia not white, like that of the FfufFed Gronso, but red, like that of the Scottish Moor Fowl, which in many respects it resembles. It has more of th<* bitrer taste than the RtifTtvl Gronso, and is, in my opinion, a decidedly superior bird. It will bear to be hung for some days, or oven weeks in cold weather, and is to be cooked and eaten accord- ing to the (irection given i.nder the last head. In conclusion, it is well to state here, that there is ccrtdinly no distincfif n whatsoever between the Heath-Hen of Long Island and Martha's Vineyard, the Grouse of the pines and scrub oaks of New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and the Prairie- Hen of the West. They are all one and the same 1 iid — the Pinnated Gkouse, Tefmo Ciipido, of the ornitholonri^t, and emphatically the Groitse of t!ie sportsman. Of the Canada, or Spotted Grouse, it is in vain to spi-ak, foi ho is not as yet to bo shot, and I apprehend never will be, in sporting style. The ground in which to find him is the deep larch and cedar woods, especially the former, of Maine, Nova VOL. I. 19 il'l !i' :i I. ,11 206 FRANK FORESTKH S FIELD SPORTS. Th i 4 Scotia and New Brunswick, and if unywlioro ho exists in suffici- ent numbers to render the pursuit of him cxcitinir ;is a sport, I have no doubt that the dogs over which to shoot him would be well broke Cocking Spaniids. I believe that the flesh of this species is the most highly flavor- ed of all the varieties of Grouse which we possess, though I but once had an opportunity of tasting it. Jt is said to be very bitter, which I presume to be that spicy, aromatic game flavor which gives the zest to the Grouse above all other birds, in the eyes of the true epicure. Thus far, with some few exceptions, I had written in my first edition of this work — these exceptions are the correction of two or three positive and palpable errors in relation to the growth, size, and seasons of this admirable bird. I am still myscdf of opinion, that in the main the spirit and letter of what is above set down will be found correct ; but having had the good fortune to receive a very interesting original communication from a gentle- man of distinction and zealous sportsmanship in the South-West, I hasten, with sincere acknowledgments of his kindness, to insert his letter entire, certain that it will be n ad by all sportsmen with plea.sure and profit, and that its statements and opinions may be received with perfect reliance on their correctness and fidelity. 1 have only to add that the handsome present of game, to which reference is made below, arrived in perfect condition, and were dealt with in perfect accordance with the desire of the obliging donor. I cannot, however, coincide with his views, as 1 still think — though I admit that a broiled Grouse is good enough — that it is much inferior to one roasted before a very brisk coal or wood fire — I do not mean baked in an oven, which is very often called roasting — and served, slightly underdone, with bread sauce. All jelly or sweet sauce with Grouse are an abomination. I have not yet had the good fortune of being able to comply with my friend's kind invitation to participate individually in the noble sport of the prairies, though I earnestly hope to do so ere many autumns have elapsed ; nor had I the pleasure to see his UPLAND SHOOTING. 257 ICI- Lbe vor- but tter, cs ot first ,f two i-ovvth, elf of ove set nnc to (Tcntlc- \Vcst, 1 ) insert jrtsmcn )ns may fideUty. me, to ion, and of the -ws, as 1 enough isle coal \ is very th bread ination. comply liy in the lo so ere 0 see his ni friend, Mr. M., although I should have rojoicod to sec and con- fer witli Iiliu on tlio subject of the sports of the South-West, of w'liieli I have seen too little, while 1 desire so greatly personally to participate in theiii. I may also add that I have learned from good .sportsmen of the West, that the objection against the u.sc of pointers, lies in the inability of their thin-skinned legs and bare- soled feet to endure the wear and tear of the prairie grass. Si. Louis., JFo., January 29s. I fear you are rather bigoted on this subject. Much theorising has hardened your heart. With the purpose of inducing you to review your — hasty — opinions on this vital point, and correct the errors of speculation by the lessons of experi- mental philosophy, F take the li})erty of sending you six brace of Grouse, the freshest and finest 1 could .select on this occasion. I ' 'i m m ,. 1 !■ i .1 H 262 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS ■ ! I ; have caused them to bo packotl in a basket, which is the best moans I am aware of — except hanging them outside of the vehicle which carries them, and that is unsafe — of preserving tliom from becoming high. I hope tiiey will reach you safely and in good order. Have one of these birds broiled quickly, rather under- done, [.s a canvass-back duck should bo roasted ; let it be pep- pered and salted to your taste, and as it is removed from the gridiron to the hot dish, let it bo juil tr/uchcd with a little butter. Eschew all sweet sauces — ^jelly, &c., and cat it with nothing but good bread, 48 hours out of the oven. Should this experiment not please you, try another one of the birds on the gridiron ; but if that too is a failure in your estimation, o'cn have the rest cooked scion vafre — mnurais ? — gout. I conclude this very long letter with the expression of a hope that you will be induced to try for yourself what Grouse shooting on our prairies is good for. The journey is nothing. Any one who has the lime can enjoy it pleasantly here if ho is fond of field sports. St. Louis is the best headquarters for a sportsman in the whole country, I verily believe. You will find hero a cordial welcome, and I should be very much pleased to receive you as my guest. My professional engagements are so confining that 1 can but seldom enjoy the pleasure of shooting ; for our courts are in constant session during the whole of the hunting season, after the 3d Monday of September ; but before that time 1 am comparatively at liberty, and there arc others here, of greater leisure to indulge in field sports, but not more keen in their pur- suit, who will rejoice to contribute to render pleasant the visit to the West of a sportsman whom every other one in America knows by reputation at least. I am, sir, very respectfully, Your obedient servant, T T G**** Henry Wiu.iam Herbert, Esq., at the Cedars, New Jersey. jurts ison, |l ain later 1 P"'"" jit to Icrica I t II i •!' ! 1 7, .:'i^ 'ir '',','■ as. '•'ll'lr ,' ■,;.■■■■ ' ,• s .:' I] a :i r 'J..' If. .1 Ai:i\ ■ill 'lu (■ 1 •■.' iiir: 4 ^v TA^. ^..i m H: ^*^ »;; ■^■■pl.:'4'- ~T7 •^^^"'M*'^ ..r*- -.*■' vV;ff -'S m i^^:'t^m- bU'.r-? ■ iri •!■ 1 I. li •\ii i.> rii ii .ri-,i)-i >;ii ; I' ■ III ICj! • .r .'ii '' I I iiu'iM- n li vi.ii; ) I' I 1 f I i m! I VPLAtiD SilooTl.Va. 2r,:i AUTUMN SHOOTING. .^r"'""^ ">■"•-.-' ..,„n, " '""""^^""" . Am. .ho wll,„,v, ,n U,„ v,u,.,,. . '' ^'^'""-S""-' by .he rill. '^"'''•'««'-n.p,.,,,it:;-:;;:;'"'-'--v..i/ure, ^•'■enJhe.,Ky„M„,„ """>»"-' -hero 1,„ fe,l; ,^'>«" 'ho , es. :::;;•'';"• "';•' "- nc.,>v.,r.'..„ .L „,.„. l'.W. V ''^''""^^^««P°'•^- : of boon nature in her loveliest :;n-Uliesedaysarenot,asM . ^■^'■^'.f '» ^'i^ beautiful poem haj ^ the i^lancholy clay«," « the sad- ^^est of the year.'. „o.., with all __^^^^_^^|p d^fb.j3nce to that sweet hard and '•«" I .-'gree with hi™ as to the tonT f'' '' "°"''« '-^"^^ ^^'-^«-. - •>■ ^1.0 ^'^"--piationrft ::: :;:r ^" ^-^^ ^'^'-^ -^1: J^ '« true that we know ourselve 'rf "",'^'"'""'^^" ^'^'"'""• --e. a hectic loveliness, wlZ "t " 1 '°"'"^' "P°"' ^ « -"^umptive beauty, is tie p 'u ^ ' V"" "" ^'" ^'^^^ of «" exquisite is that beautv f r ^ ^'^^ ""^ ^^^^b. Still --sphere, the aspect^t^rsltT ^'^ ^^'"P— ' ^h tl: ■I t ) ' «' i ' I I I ri-^ H ^ ':1m I '■ FIIANK FOKKSTKH S FIELD SPORTS. pniinisc oi' s[)iiiiif ainl tlio fullness of Miminior nic liotli iiiferuir tu till) tterciic iiiul ciilni (lecliiie of tliu woodliind yuiir. It i(>ii(ls tu (Ifiitli iiiilt'cd; hut it scoinH to me rallier to rcst'iiililo tJu; tniiii|uil iiiid jj;<'iit'(' clo.Ht! ol" a \V('11-s|i(MiI lilr, hi'aulilicd i)y iIk* coijjsciou.siic.ss flor e» to whine lorlli al'ter the winter of the jrrave, than the termination o. an existence to he dreaded ov deplored. Every land has its own season of peculiar loveliness ; and if the sweet spring-tido of soil and dewy Knirjand, with its May smiloH and its April tons and its rich hreath of llowery fra- jfrance, has awakened the fond syni|)athies of her landscape- lovinir poets, the many-colored, ])urpU'-liazed, and silvi'ry-skied autumn of America has neither heen unlionored nor unsunjif of lyres worthy to liang alolb in hitrh niches of the temple conse- crate to the nohlest tonmie of the modern junverse. The true sportsman must ever he a lover of the (dnirms of rural scenery, and for this among other things 1 love and honor sportsmanshi]). I do not helieve that any gemiine forester, he liis exterior as rough as the shell of the prickly chestnut, hut must have within his heart, though he may lack words to define the sentiment, something of the painter's spirit, and the poet's fire. The very nature of his pursuits must needs awaken conteinplatioii and induce thought, and I have often ohscrved that tlie spots to which lie will conduct you, apparently with- out a tliought, except in reference to their convenience, wherein to take your noonday meal, or your afternoon siesta, will he the very places to charm the poet's I'ancy, or fix the painter's eye. I think no lover of nature can he an unkindly, or, at the bottom, an evil-minded or bad man. And so — and so 1 Instead of pausing longer thus, or solidly and solemnly discussing the theory of sporting matters, we will at once walk into the practice. We will suppose the time of the year such as our poor ballad- monger above quoted has, perhaps, labored to depict, — the time L'l'L.WK SII(l()ll.\(i. 2«;r) of tlio inoriiin^, not tliu poi'p of diiy, l)Ut t'ii;lit, or Ity'r liidy ! iiiiif of tlio ,Slii»!\v.sl)ury dork, wlicii tlu) iiutmniiiil sun liiis liflcd Iiis broiul, jovial, nultly lii