WII»Ef|rtt IT «•»"*••"••* %^^c^ , ^^^^^-^^^^^^>^ UNIVERSITY or PITTSBURGH hSS' Darlington Aleinorial J_/ibrary- //y ./ A^^'- 7 ^ THE RUFFED GROUSE. FRAIK FORESTERS FIELD SPORTS OF THK UNITED STATES, AND BRITISH PROVINCES, OF iNORTH AMERICA. There is exhilaration in the chase- Not bodily only, ***** It is a mingled rapture, and we find The hiiilily sjiirit mounting to the mind. Sir Egerton Brydges. BY HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT; AUTHOR OF "MY SHOOTING BOX," " THK WARWICK WOODLANDS, "MARMADUKE WYVII.," "CROMWELL," "THE BROTHERS," "the ROMAN TRAITOR," &.C., &;C IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. N E VV- YORK: STRINGER & TOWNSEND, (Late Burgess, Stringer & Co ) •2->-2 BROADWAY. 1^49. Ml .,o-^.r(hiif; to an Act ol' C(>iii;ro.ss, in the year 1848, BY STJllNGEU AND TOWNSEND. Dllicc olthe District t'onit tor the Southern District of New-York. John R. Win3er, Stereotype 138 Fulton-Slroci. COLONEL WADE HAMPTON, vVc, ,Vc., vVc, of "e:t)c SSl'oonlanDs," Sout!) €:aroliua, Ct)is toovlv on tljc j^irlQ Spovt'i of tljc JlnitcD States ann JJiitisij iDroVnnrcs of Xottf) Slmcrica, te bjcj rcsprctfullP BfOicatcO, as a tvii)Utc of ijomagc to Eljc if ivst Sportsman in tjje lanO ; aSS !)is ©iJti't Serb't Frank Forester. ADVERTISEMENT. I HAVE little to say in Preface to the following work on Field Sports ; my reasons for producing it, at this moment, will be found in the body of the book itself; but, once for all, it ap- peared to me that such a work was needed, at this juncture, and that its publication might possibly tend, in some small de- gree, to avert the impending doom, which seems to have gone forth from the democracy of the land, against game of all Sftrts. No one abler, or elder, seemed willing to stand forth ; so " with all my imperfections on my head," I have ventured my- self as the champion of American Sport and Sportsmanship ; and — " what is writ is writ, would it were worthier !" I have here, especially and before aught else, to express my obligations for what 1 have borrowed — the generic distinctions namely, and descriptions of the form, measurement, and plumage, of all the winged game of the Continent— from those' distin- guished ornithologists, and good sportsmen, M;-. Audubon and Mr. GiRAUD, to whose " Birds of America," and " Birds of Long Island," I am greatly indebted. I have not scrupled, moreover, to quote largely, on occasion, from Wilson's " American Orni- thology," DeKay's " Natural History of New-York," and Godman's " American Natural History," — and to all these VI ADVERTISEMENT. gentlemen I beg to express the high sense I feel of the aid I have deriveci from their excellent works. To my friend, William T. Porter, I need not apologise for the two or three pages I have boiTowed from his admirable edition of " Hawker on Shooting," as he would pardon, doubtless, a heavier offence to a fellow- worker in the same honorable field with himself. For the illustrations, designed by myself from living, or stuffed specimens, I am greatly indebted to Mr. Bell, the eminent taxidermist and naturalist, who kindly laid open his cabinet for my use ; and I will only add my acknowledgment to Mr. Read, for the spirit and fidelity with which he has rendered my draw- ings on the wood. 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 Cedars, Anirust 3rd, 1S48, LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS © f 1' 0 I u m r © n f . RUFFED GROUSE FRONxisriECE. CANADA GROUSE 72 AMERICAN SNIPE 138 AMERICAN WOODCOCK ... . . 190 PINNATED GROUSE i!55 AMERICAN QUAIL ,266 COiNTENTS OF VOLUME ONE Paos. Introductory Observations ........ 1 The Game of North America ....... 30 Upland Shootixg ... ...... 45 The Pinniited Grouse 49 The RufFed Grouse . .64 The Canada Grouse . 71 American Quail . 80 The Woodcock 8G Common Snipe .... ..... 91 Bartram's Tattler 94 The American Hare 100 The Northern Hare 10.3 The Mallard IOC The Dusky Duck 110 The Blue-Winged Teal . 115 The Green-Winged Teal , . 119 The Summer Duck 122 The Pintail Duck 128 Spring Snipe Shooting 137 Summer Woodcock Shooting 169 Upland Plover Shooting 209 Autumn Cock Shooting 210 Quail Shooting 219 Ruffed Grouse Shooting 240 Grouse Shooting . 248 X CONTENTS. Autumn Shooting 257 Rail ; and Rail ShootiiNG 268 Duck Shooting, on Inland Waters 293 Sporting Dogs • 312 The Setter .313 The Pointer 328 The Cocking Spaniel 332 Kennel Management 3.15 Alteratives 343 Laxatives and Purgatives 344 Distemper 347 Worms 350 Poisons 351 Mange 351 Ophthalmia 352 Sore Feet 352 Field Management of Dogs 354 FIELD SPORTS UNITED STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES. N the occasion of commencing, it IS now several years ago, a series \ of papers in a leading monthly ■^ magazine, " On the Game of North 7 America, its nomenclature, habits, haunts, and seasons ; with hints ■<^''» on the science of woodcraft" — I introduced the subject, by the fol- lowing general remarks, and it ap- pears to me that, inasmuch as they are not only still applicable, but have in effect become more and more evidently true, owing to the lapse of time since their publication, during which the evils complained of have increased tenfold, I cannot do better than repeat them, as entirely germane to the matter, and as aptly introductory to that which is to follow. " There is, perhaps," I remarked, " no country in the world which presents, to the sportsman, so long a catalogue of the 12 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. choicest game, whether of fur, fin, or feather, as 'the United States of North America ; there is none, probably, which counts more numerous, or more ardent, devotees ; there is none, cer- tainly, in which the wide-spread passion for the chase can be indulged, under so few restrictions, and at an expense so trifling. " Yet all this, notwithstanding, it is to be regretted greatly that there is no country in which the nomenclature of these Jem na- turcE, these roving denizens of wood, wold and water, is so con- fused and unscientific ; none, in which their habits are so little known, and their seasons so little regarded ; none, in which the gentle craft of Venerieis so often degraded into mere pot-hunting; and none, in which, as a natural consequence, the game that swarmed of yore in all the fields and forests, in all the lakes, rivers, bays, and creeks of its vast territory, are in such peril of becoming speedily extinct. " That in a nation, every male inhabitant of which is, with but rare exceptions, a hunter, and ready with the gun almost beyond example, this should be the case, can be explained only by the fact that, as I have said before, little is known generally of the habits of game ; and that the rarest and choicest, species are slaughtered inconsiderately, not perhaps wantonly, at such times and in such manners, as are rapidly causing them to disap- pear and become extinct. " That such is the case, can be proved in a few words, and by reference to a few examples. The most evident, perhaps, of these, is the absolute extinction of that noble bird, the Heath- Hen, or Pinnated Grouse, Tetrad Cupido, on Long Island, where, within the memory of our elder sportsmen, they might be taken in abundance at the proper season, but where not a solitary bird has been seen for years. In the pines on the south- western shores of New Jersey, and in the oak -barrens of north- eastern Pennsylvania, the same birds were also plentiful within a few years ; but now they are already rarce aves ; and, after a few more returns of the rapidly succeeding seasons, they will be entirely unknown in their old-accustomed places." The same thing is the case, in a yet greater degree, with re- INTRODUCTORY OliSERVATIONS. 13 gard to the Wild Turkey. It is not yet half a century since these birds, the noblest wild game of the Gallinaceous order, abounded on the slopes of the Warwick and Musconetcong Mountains; in the Shawangunks ; and, in a, word, throughout the whole length of the great chain, which connects the White Mountains of the north, with the Alleghanies proper. I have myself conversed with sportsmen, in the river counties of New York, who, in their boyhood, thought less of killing their half- dozen Wild Turkeys in the morning, than we should now-a-days of bagging as many Ruffed Grouse. At present, with the ex- ception of a few stragglers which, I believe, still exist on the Connecticut, about the rocky steeps of Mount Tom and Mount Holyoake, and a single drove, which are reported to be seen occasionally among the hill-fastnesses at the lower end of the Greenwood Lake, on the frontiers of New York and New Jersey, none are to be found until we reach the western regions of Pennsylvania. And, in fact, as a bird of sport, they are not, any where on the eastern side of the great Apalachian chain. The Deer and the greater American Hare, which turns white in winter, are likewise already extinct in many places, where both could be captured, within the last twenty years, in such numbers as to afford both sport and profit to their pur- suers. In New Jersey, and in New York, south of the forty-second degree of north latitude, with the exception of a small number carefully preserved on the brush-plains of Long Island, the Deer, Cervus Virginianus, has ceased to exist. And it requires no prophetic eye to see the day when this pride of the North Ame- rican forest shall have ceased to have its habitation any where eastward of Pennsylvania ; unless it be in the remote northern forests of Maine, in the mountains of New Hampshire and Ver- mont, and in that small district of New York, lying between the head waters of the Hudson, Lake Champlain, the St. Lawrence, and the eastern extremity of Ontario — which latter tract, owing to its singularly rugged and unproductive character, will proba- bly contain the Deer, the Moose, the Cariboo, the Panther, and 14 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. even the Beaver, after they shall have become extinct, even in the far West. It has been alleged, and by many is doubtless believed to be true, that the increase of population, the spread of cultivation, and the transfiguration of the woods and vs^astes into corn-lands and pastures, are in themselves an all-sufficient and irremediable cause for the disappearance of all the various kinds of game, the extinction of which the sportsman and the naturalist alike deplore. Were this the case, it would be needless to waste words on the subject — but so far is it from being the case, that with regard to very many kinds of game — several of those already cited, and others, which, though still numerous, will ere long be in the same predicament, so rapidly are they decreasing — the very converse of the proposition is true. The Wild Turkey, the Pinnated Grouse, and its congener, the Ruffed Grouse, as also the much rarer bird of the sam^e order, commonly known as the Spruce Partridge — the very existence of which was unknown to Wilson — all unquestionably do make their homes in the wilderness, the last-named there exclusively. But all the others, without exception, prefer the vicinity of cul- tivated regions on account of the plenty and choicer quality of the food ; and are found nowhere in such abundance as in those localities, which afibrd the combination of rough wild lying- ground, with highly cultivated land, on which to feed at morn and dewy eve. Thus, in the Eastern States, if you are in pursuit of the Ruffed Grouse, the surest places where to flush your game will not be the depths of the cedar swamp, or the summit of the mountain horrid with pine and hemlock, but on the slopes and ledges falling down to the cultivated vales, and in the skirts of briary woodlands, or in the red-cedar knolls, which remain yet unshorn in the midst of maize and buckwheat fields, which never fail to tempt this mountain-loving bird from his native fastnesses. In like manner, in the West, it is on the prairie, but in the vicinity of the boundless tracts of maize and wheat, which the industry of the white man has spread out over the hunting- INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 15 grounds of the Indian, that the Pinnated Grouse is to be found in miUions ; and the Turkey in similar situations, where the forest encircles the yet isolated clearings of the agricultural pioneer. Thus, of these three species, it is untrue that the spread of cultivation, unless in so far as that involves the increased niiiubers and increased persecution of the cultivators, has any detrimental effect on their propagation, or in anywise tends to decrease their numbers. For centuries yet to come, let Ame- rican industry develope and extend American agriculture as rapidly as it may, there will be woodlands and wilds in abun- dance to furnish shelter for any quantity of game ; and there will always be fastnesses innumerable, which never will, be- cause they never can, be cleared, owing to the roughness of their surface, and the sterility of their soil, whether from eleva- tion above the sea, rockiness or swampiness of situation, or other natural causes, which it needs not to enumerate. Other species of game, so far from flyii:ig cultivation, or ab- horring the vicinity of civilized man, are literally not to be found except where the works of the ox and the man are conspicu- ous ; never being seen at all in the wilderness proper, and giving cause for some speculation as to their whereabouts, their haunts, their habits, if not their existence on the conti- nent, previous to the arrival of civilized man, from realms nearer to the sun. Neither the Woodcock nor the Quail, Scolopax Minor, and Perdix, sive Ortyx ViRniNiANA, are ever found in the depths of the untamed forest, aloof from human habitations ; though both genera frerjuent, nay require, woodland, as g, sine qua non, for their habitation. Moreover, in places where they are entirely unknown to the first settlers, where they do not in fact exist at all, they speedily become abundant, so soon as the axe levels the umbrageous forest, and the admitted sunbeams awaken or mature the germs of that animal or vegetable life, on which the birds subsist. This is, I presume, so generally known as a fact, that no proof thereof is necessarv. I may, however, mention two or three 16 fkan:^ fouester s field sports. V ' very distinct and remarkable instances of this fact, which have come under my own observation ; one with regard to the in- crease and spread of Quail, the others of Woodcock, into loca- lities where they were previously unknown. Some seventeen years ago, I visited Niagara Falls for the first time, and travelled westward so far as the upper waters of the Thames and the Chenail Ecart^ in Canada West, shooting a little when oc- casion offered, 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, I enjoyed some extremely good Snipe shooting, close to the village of Niagara, at the embouchure of the river into Lake Ontario ; and, in fact, I saw more birds, and those tamer, than in any other place where I 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. I had not journeyed many miles, ere I had outstripped the Woodcock ; and I could gain no tidings of his existence beyond the Ouse, or Grand River of the Mohawks. At this moment, probably, the best Woodcock shooting on the continent is to be obtained in the islands situate at the western end of Lake Erie, in the Detroit River, and in Lake St. Clair. Quail are also becom.ing exceedingly plentiful throughout that region. In the same manner, in the Eastern States, until within the last six years, the Woodcock has been unknown on the Penob- scot River, although abundant in the vicinity of Portland and Casco Bay, and in the older settlements on the Kennebec. What renders it more evident, in the latter case, that it is the absence of civilization and not the severity of the climate, which INTRODUCTORY OBSEKV ATIONS. 17 has so long deterred this bird of passage frt)in visiting tlie east- ern parts of Maine, is the fact that, in the British Provinces of New Brunswick and IVova Scotia, much farther to the nortli- 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 numbers 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 they are subjected, which is gradually extinguishing them, where, within ten or fifteen years, they abounded. In the counties of Hampshire and Berkshire, in Massachusetts, of Dutchess, Putnam, Rockland and Orange 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 ten times greater, than all the Deer forests in the Highlands of Scotland ; in the former, you have perhaps rather a greater chance of meeting an elephant, thanks to the abundance of menageries, than a hart or hind — in the latter, the Red Deer are more numerous now than they were two centuries ago. Hence it is evident, that there is no natural reason whatever, much less a necessary or inevitable one, for the rapid decrease and approaching extinction of all kinds of game, whether large or small, throughout the United States of America. Nor is it to be attributed to any other cause than the reckless and ignorant, it not wanton, destruction of these animals by the rural population. The destruction of the Pinnated Grouse, which is total on Long Island, and all but total in New Jersey and the Pennsyl- vania oak-barrens, is ascribable to the brutal and wholly Avanton havoc committed among them bv the charcoal-burners, who fre- 2^ 18 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. :iuent 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 Aj^^orth 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, that, on the little island of Martha's Vine- yard, off the coast of Massachusetts, where the Heath-Cock, once abundant, had nearljP 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- INTRODTC TORY OKSrCRVATIOXS. 19 regard and violate all hiws, 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 tliird 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 noH-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 or 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- ing to the non-residence of wealthy and otiose men in the rural districts of the Northern States, that until very recently all ap- plication for and amendments of game-laws have emanated from the dwellers in cities ; and, for this obvious reason, that the coun- 20 i-RANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. try farmers, as a body, have neither the time, the inchnation, noi the opportunities for making themselves 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 I 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 foi them as delicacies, or articles of food, and who 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, expensive ; 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. Nor is this all — the country now bids fair to monopolize the trade of pot-hunting INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 21 The young men and boys, now-a-days, all shoot on the 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 the rail-roads, who share the spoils with the killers ; and fathers, finding that the idle lad, who formerly did an hour or two of work, and bird-nested or played truant quite 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 these lines — February, 1848 — owing to the mildness of the winter, which has allured th*em earlier than usual from their hybernacula in the swamps of the sunny South, the Woodcock are here among us, preparing their nests already ere the snow is off the 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 22 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. 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 afford a market. Within fifty years from the day on which 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- tremest 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 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 23 their experience, or to plead the cause of her persecuted and ahnost exterminated game. " Within the last 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 b} 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 ; noi — 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 h believe that the time has airived, when a work of this charactei 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 shah 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 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. 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 acted 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 Shooting. 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 vs^ith 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 diffuse in my observations. As, ho^v- 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, joroper, 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, kennel-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 tliC INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 25 West, which, for the perfection of the first named sport, are the grounds par excellence of the whole world — the decline of fal- conry on the continent of Europe, and in England, heing caused by the multiplicity of enclosures, which renders it impossible to })ursue a chase, blindfold as it Avere, the eyes being fixed constantly on the manoeuvres 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 West ; 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. \Vith 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 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. tie I do know of American field sports — and so infinitesimal is that little, that I 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 general defence of field sports I do not here think it worth the while to enter. All men wl\ose 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 effeminacy 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 ci'uel, 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 I shall assuredly give them and their opinions, the widest possible berth ; assuring them that, without the slightest respect for their opinions, I 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 worthless 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 [NTRODCCTORY OHSEllVATIONS 27 Sana in corpore smio — of keeping up manhood, and of maintain- ing the physical eneigies and capacities of the human race at their highest standard. It is an authentic and undeniable fact that the aristocracy and gentry of the British Islands are superior, in physical beauty and power, in robustness, agility, and the capacity of enduring fatigue, to any other class of nobility in the world. They are, in fiict, the only nobUiti/ in existence, which have been enabled to resist the deteriorating influences of wealth, luxury, and breeding-in-and-in, which have corrupted and effen\inated the nobility of all other lands ; they are the only nobility, in exist- ence, which not only eiiuals, but exceeds, in physical stature and strength the peasantry and laborious classes of their own country. And to nothing is this, or can it be, 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 reasons, 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 that country. The first is this — that the wealthy classes of the northern states entirely.) and of all the states, in a great degree, dwelling exclusively in large cities, and not residing at all on rural es- tates, or ac([uiring rural tastes and habits, are infinitely more liable to become effeminated and effete than the gentry, not of Britain only, but of France and Germany. And, in fact, the sol disaute 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 being out of the question in this republic, the defence of the land and 2R FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. its institutions must ever be intrusted to the people at large ; and the adaptibility 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- ino- 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 regiment 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 fowling-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 firelock will be as rare, unless in the hands of trained regulars, as the rifle is now on the sea-board. INTRODUCTORT OBSERVATIONS. 29 This certainly is a point worthy of consideration, even by those who think themselves far too great and philanthropical to trouble themselves about such trifles as the increase or de- crease of little birds, and the field sports of little men. It is, however, sound philosophy which teaches us that " great ends come from small betrinninirs." 30 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. THE GAME OF THE UNITED STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES. AME is not every thing which ex- ists in the shape of birds or beasts in a state of nature, /uii;h it be an essential qualification to game that it should be such as a well-bred dog will notice, and pursue natu- rally, it is not necessary that the dog should be invariably used in its pursuit — as in the case of the Water-Rail, and the Upland or Bartiaiii\s PU)ver ; on both of which thorough-bred dogs will stand steadily, although, for reasons of which I shall treat under their appropriate heads, it is not usual or desirable to take out pointers or setters in pursuit of them. Once more, to conclude, there are animals which may be re- garded as game, under certain contingencies and in certain countries, which I should not call game under different circum- stances. Where falconry is in vogue, for example, which is purely a sport, and a most scientific sport, too, the Heron, the Skylark, nay, even the Magpie is pursued as, and may be considered, game. In like manner, where packs of Fox and Otter hounds are re- gularly kept for the purpose of hunting those animals, legiti- mately and scientifically, and where to kill those animals other- wise than legitimately and scientifically, is contrary to sports- manship and custom, the Fox and the Otter may be properly termed game. In England I should certainly term the Fox an animal of game ; in those counties of England, wherein Otter hounds are kept up, the Otter likewise. Here, like the other noxious animals, or those which are killed for their peltry only, by the trap or the gun, they are vermin ; as are the Racoon, the Opossum, and the like, although these may be casually pursued, unscientifically, and without fair play, or regular rules of sportsmanship, for their flesh, or even for sport. Game, therefore, in its proper sense — and in no other do I treat of it — consists but of a few families, and even genera, 32 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. though of many species ; and in the United States and British Provinces of North America, these families may be limited to six families of quadrupeds only, containing twelve sub-genera and species ; and this at the very largest and most liberal com- putation. These families are the Ox, Bos; the Goat, Capra ; the Antelope, Antilope ; Deer, Ccrvus ; Hare, Lepus ; and the Bear, TJrsus Of the first, second and third of these genera, there are but three species found on this continent, one of each. The Bison, Bos Americanus^ peculiar to North America. The Rocky Mountain Sheep, Ovis Montana ; and The American Antelope, or Pronghorn. Of the Deer there are five varieties found in the territories of the United States and the Provinces, namely — The Moose, Cervus Alces ; The Elk, Cervus Canadensis ; The Cariboo, American Reindeer, Cervus Tarandus ; The Common Deer, Cervus Virginianus ; and The Black-tailed Deer, Cervus Macrotis. Of the Hare there are two varieties known on this continent : The Common Hare — vulg. Rabbit — Lepus Americanus ; and The Northern Hare, Lepus Vircjinianus. Of the Bear also there are two varieties : The Common Brown Bear, TJrsus Americanus ; and The Grisly Bear, TJrsus Horrihilis. This is the utmost limit that I can assign to the quadruped game of this country ; as I cannot lend my humble sanction to the shooting squirrels, racoons, or opossums out of trees, and calling that sportsmanship ; any more than I can assent to shoot- ing thrushes, crow-blackbirds, pigeons, meadow-larks, and reed- birds, and calling them game. In fact, for my own part, I can scarcely bring myself to re- gard the Bison or the Bear as game, in consequence of the whole- GAME OF AMERI-CA. 33 sale and butcher-like fashion in which the former are slauglitered, 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 falls for loss of blood ; and looking to the ferocious and noxious character of the latter. Nevertheless, in the West, i?(//a/o-hunting is regarded as sport — therefore the Bison — for, be it observed, there is no such animal known to this continent as the Buffalo — 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, and, 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, when civilization shall have reached his haunts, which are on, and to the westward of, the Rocky Mountains. The two varieties of Hare are likewise emphatically game ; and it is with these two families only, and but with two or three species of these, that nine-tenths of my readers will ever have to do. 3 34 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. The Mouse and Cariboo may be hunted with more or less sxxccess 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. GAME OF AMERICA. 35 It is to those stupid misnomers, as I shall show hereafter, that one-half the confusion and difficulty arises among sportsmen with regard to the objects of their pursuit. We now come to the winged game ; and here we shall find less difficulty 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 they are called — wa- ter birds ; although 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 ornithologists Rasores ; and belong to two families, Pavonidct, and TetraonidcB ; or birds following the types of the Peacock, and of the Grouse. Of these again we have three subdivisions — Meleagris, or Turkey ; Ortyx, or Ame- rican Quail ; and Tetrao, or Grouse. Of the second* family Pavonidce, and first genus Meleagris, the United States possess but one species. The Wild Turkey. Meleagris Gallipavo. Of the third family TetraonidcB, and first genus, Ortyx, 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 ot the same kin. They are these — * The first family, Columbidco, of this order, the third of land-birds, are not game. t t'S'ti-rn* K 36 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. r:Jlii::' 1. The Common American Quail, Ortyx Virginiana; .1 U. i-icO ^- '^^^ Californian Quail, Ortyx Californica; ,/?i^, .„ ', 3- The Plumed Quail, Ortyx Plumifera ; 4. The Welcome Quail, Ortyx Neoxena ; 5. The Painted Quail, Ortyx Picta ; 6. The Douglass Quail, Ortyx Douglasii. Of these six species the first alone is yet an object of pursuit, being found everywhere south of the 43rd degree of north lati- tude, from the waters of the Kennebeck to those of the Rio Grande, if not yet farther to the south. The second, third, fourth, and fifth species are all inhabitants of California, as far north as the valley of the Columbia — 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 TetraonidcB, we have in the United States and Canada, a second genus Tetrao, Grouse proper, 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 Columbia. Three of these species are tole- rably plentiful, and two of them I have myself shot, the one being the Ruffed, 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 effect 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 r The ten American species of Grouse are as follows : 1. The Common Ruffed Grouse, Tetrao Umbellus ; 2. The Pinnated Grouse — or the Heath-Hen, Tetrao Cupido ; 3. The Canada Grouse — or Spruce Grouse, densis ; 4. The Dusky Grouse, Tetrao Obsciirus ; GAME OF AMERICA. 37 5. The Cock of the Plains, Tetrao Urophasianus ; 6. The Sharp-tailed Grouse, Tetrao Phasianellus ; 7. The Willow Grouse, Tetrao Saliceti : ' ■ -.'^t>i*- x.^ ^ti,v.> '4 8. The American Ptarmigan, Tetrao Mutus ; \ V -^-^^ 5..^ /^^^ '^ • 9. The Rock Ptarmigan, Tetrao Rupestris ; and} ' 10. The White-tailed Ptarmigan, Tetrao Leiccur as. '^'''■^■^■^ ^-'-'f^ '^ Of these noble birds, the three species first named are all na- Il>.^,i /l^^ , lives of the Eastern States, and a few of all are yet to be found * , -^ in them ; although the Pinnated Grouse, or Heath-Hen, has been nearly exterminated — as I have before observed — and the Canada '-'^^^^' Ct or Spruce Grouse, is a shy, forest-hauntino; bird, rarely met with, hj-. and scarcely ever pursued on his own account alone. I never saw but one alive, which I shot on the Penobscot, in Maine. It is, so far as I can learn, nowhere 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. I never, however, have heard of one being killed, or seen south of the St. Ijawrence, 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 varieties 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 northw^ard 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 as I have stated, two or three varieties of those which are classed by th» 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 38 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. it farther according to the regions and situations in which we find it, and the modes we adopt in its pursuit. Of game land-birds, proper, then, we have in all but three GENERA, the wild Turkey, the Grouse, and the Quail. Here specially observe and remember that on the whole continent of America there exists neither Pheasant nor Partridge ; and to call the Ruffed 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 species both of Grouse and Quail, common to this country, there are but two of the former, the Ruffed and Pinnated, and one of the latter, the common Quail, sufficiently 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 families, Grallatores, or waders, and Natatores, 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 sport they afford in the field. They are the RallidcE^ the Charadriadce, and the ScolopacidcBj or the families whereof the Rail, the Plover, and the Wood- cock form the types. Of the second order, the swimmers, the second family alone, the Anatidcs, of which the Duck constitutes the type, comes within the sphere of my notice as game ; but five 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 proceed in order, of the first family Rallidcs, of the waders, we have two genera. Fulica, Coot, and Rallus, Rail. 1st. The Common American Coot, Fulica^JVigra^ which is a common autumnal visitant of all the coasts, bays and salt marshes from Pennsylvania eastward. Of the Rail, three species are well known to all our sports- men. GAME OF AMERICA. 39 1st. The Virginia Rail, Rallus Virginianus ; 2nd. The Clapper Rail — Vulg. Meadow, or Mud, Hen — Rallus Crepitans ; 3rd. The Common Sora Rail, Rallus CaroZinus, which is the bird killed in such abundance on the flats and reed-beds of the Delaware in autumn. The second family of this order, the Gruida^ of which the Crane is the type, containing all the varieties of Heron, Ibis, and Bittern, I do not regard as game ; and therefore pass in si- lence. Of the next, third, family, Charadriadce, we have all the genera but one, the Charadrius, Plover, proper, six varieties — the Slrepsilas, Turnstone and the Hamatopus^ Oyster-catcher, the last named hardly being entitled to the name of game, the others all, like four-fifths of the next family, being included under the vul- gar appellation of Bay Snipe, or Bay birds. It is unnecessary, at present, to enumerate all the species of these genera, as, in truth, they are generally of small value, with perhaps one excep- tion, the Golden Plover. The fourth family, ScolopaddcB, contains almost all our best and most delicious species for the table, and those which are most eagerly pursued and most highly prized by the genuine sportsman. All the genera of this family are game, and scarcely one but contains some favorite species. The first is Tringa, Sandpiper, of which we have eight or nine varieties, classed indiscriminately with the next two genera, as Bay birds, by our gunners. The second, Totanus, Tatler, contains seven species, all of which are common along the Atlantic seaboard, and four, at least, of which are universally known and general favorites. — The first I regard, myself, as the best bird that flies, in an epi- curean point of view, not excepting even the world-famous can- vass back. The varieties are — 1. The Upland Plover, Grass Plover, or Frost Bird, Tota- nus Bartramius ; 2. Semi-palmated Snipe, or Willet, Totanus Semipahnatus • 40 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. 3. Spotted Tatler, Totanus Macularms ; 4. Solitary Tatler, Totanus Solitarius ; 5. Yellow Shanks Tatler, Lesser Yellow Leg, Totanus Flavipes ; 6. Telltale Tatler, Greater Yellow Leg, Totanus Vodfe- rus ; and 7. Green Shanks Tatler, Totanus Glottis. Of these the Upland Plover, the Willet, and the two Yellow Legs are very general favorites. The first is an excellent bird ; the others, me judice, are, nine times out of ten, uneatably fishy or sedgy. The third genus, Limosa, Godwit, has but one species which visits us. The Great Marbled Godwit, or Straight-billed Curlew, Limosa Fedoa, frequently killed with the Sandpipers, Plovers and Tatlers on the Long Island bays, and the shores of New Jersey. The fourth genus, Scolopax, has three species known to every sportsman ; two his most chosen game. They are — 1. Wilson's Snipe — vulg. English Snipe — Scolopax Wil- sonii ; 2. Red-breasted Snipe — vulg. Quail Snipe — Scolopax No- veboracensis ; and 3. The American Woodcock, Scolopax Minor. The other genera, each containing one species, are the Recurvirostra, Avosets ; Himantopus, Stilt ; and Numenius, 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 marshes ; the other birds so called are Plovers, Sandpipers, Tatlers, Turnstones, Avosets, 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 him- self a pure Snipe. GAME OF AMERICA. 41 We now arrive at the last order, Natatores^ swimmers, of which, to take cognisance, under the head of its second family, AnatidcB. 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 Bar.vacle Goose,* Anser Leucopsis ; 3. The Brant Goose — Brant — Anser Bernicla ; 4. The White-fronted Goose, Anser Albifrons ; and 5. The Snow Goose, Anser Iltjperhoreus. The third genus. Swan, affords two species to North America, but the second only belongs to the Eastern States ; the Trump- eter ranging only through Northern California to the fur coun- tries, from westward of the Ohio. 1. The Trumpeter Swan, Cycnus 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 the 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 ; 3. The Gadwall, Anas Strepera ; 4. Brewer's Duck, Anas Brewerii ; 5. The American Widgeon, Anas Americana ; 6. The Pintail Duck, Anas Acuta; 7. The Wood Duck, S'ummer Duck, Anas Sponsa ; 8. American Green-winged Teal,! Anas CaroUnensis. * I have my doubts whether tlie Barnacle and Brant are not one and the .^ fl^^t^ same bird, though at different ages, and in different states of plumage. V<-«ft, i^^' ' t I beli>;ve this bird to be identical with the European Teal, Anus Creccm. ;, 42 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. 9. The Blue-winged Teal,* Anas Discors, and 10. The Shoveller, Anas Clypeata. The fifth genus, Fuligula, Sea Duck, contains sixteen species, several 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 Duck| — vulg. Red-head — Fuligula Marina ; 3. The Scaup Duck, Fuligula Marila ; 4. The Ring-necked Duck, Tufted Duck, Fuligula Rufi- torques ; 5. The Ruddy Duck, Fuligula Rubida ; 6. The Pied Duck, Fuligula Lahradora ; 7. The Velvet Duck, Fuligula Fusca ; 8. The Surf Duck, Fuligula Perspiculata ; 9. The American Scoter, Fuligula Americana ; 10. The Eider Duck, Fuligula Mollissxma ; 11. The Golden-eye Duck, Fuligula Clangula ; 12. The Buffel-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, Mergus, 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 Goosander — vulg. Sheldrake — Mergus Merganser ; 2. The Red-breasted Merganser, Mergus Serrator ; and 3. The Hooded Merganser, Mergus Cucullatus. * I am not satisfied that this bird is not the same with the Gargany of Eu- rope, Anas Querquedula, though the weight of authority leans the other way t This is unquestionably the same with the European Pochard. GAME OP AMERICA 43 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 yet 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 absolutely necessary to the acquisition of skill and science in field sports, in their widest range and most liberal signification. I now come to the subdivisions of my subject, according to the different regions of country to which the different kinds of shooting and hunting, and the different species of game be- long. These, it appears to me, are threefold, chiefly. First. Upland shooting, which may be termed particularly the field sports of the Northern and Midland States, consisting in the pursuit of small game — as the Pinnated and Ruffed Grouse, the Quail, the Woodcock, the Snipe, the Upland Plover, the Hare, the Rail, and one or two species of Duck, which are found 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 44 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD 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 the 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, bat as the mode of killing them, over setters or pointers, is identical with that used on the seaboard, and is adopted thence, that 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 be 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 endurance, is so rare and difficult of attainment, as to present little attraction to the general run of sportsmen. Without farther comment I now proceed to Upland game and Upland shooting, connected with which I shall discuss, in their places, the use of the fowling-piece, the art of shooting flying, the breeds, breeding, diseases and management 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 deal with it, as a work of love and pleasure. UPLAND SHOOTING. 45 UPLAND SHOOTING NORTHERN STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES. PLAND shooting as it is under- stood 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 includes, therefore, not only all game of the order, Rasores, the home of which is in thickets, mountain-sides, stubbles, or maize-tields, but such also of the Grallatores, or waders, as dwell either in inland swampy woods, fresh meadows, or river-side morasses ; and, farther yet, such of the JX'atatores, swimmers, as are found exclusively or prin- cipally on brooks, rivers, above tide water, and spring marshes. By upland shooting, in a word, w^e understand all that is pursued with the aid of pointers, setters, or spaniels, and the ordinary light fowling-piece ; as opposed to that which is followed in boats with heavy ducking guns, and by the aid of decoys, or, as they are here termed, stools. Of all sports of this country, therefore, upland shooting is that which requires in the sportsman the greatest combination of qualities, the greatest skill with the gun, the greatest know- ledge of the habits and haunts of his game, the greatest science in the management of his dogs, and the greatest bodily vigor and endurance. 46 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS, 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 flush 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, per- 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 runaway. 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 ledges 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-flying 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 within 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 readiness with which they will draw conclusions and positive deductions from signs which to others seem light as air — the facility with which they understand their dogs, and their dogs them — and lastly, their 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 Hint lock, are such as would make our ancestors, of a century since, despair amid their admiration — such as consti- tute the tirst-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 rifle or pistol, it maybe artirmed 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 Black Ducks, " Legere quidem et scribere est poedagogi, sed optime col- Ihieare est Dei,^'' 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 become a " 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 seasons and the instincts of game, as I can derive from the best sources, with 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 proceed 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 in the northern and north-eastern parts of North America, of three species of grouse proper — one of them very rare and very rarely 48 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. killed over dogs — one species oi quail — three varieties of vraders ; several species of duck, and two of hares. The grouse are, The Pinnated Grouse, Tdrao Cupido, com- monly known as the Frairie-Hen, or Healh-Hen. The Ruffed Grouse, Tetrao TJmhellus^ vulgarly called the Partridge in New England and New York, and as vulgarly the Pheasant in New Jersey and Southward. The Canada Grouse, Tetrao Canadensis^ commonly known as the Spruce Partridge. I trust that the remarks I have already made, and the clearly distinctive proofs which I shall hereafter adduce from the best ornithologists, will lead sportsmen to act in earnest about reform- ing the sporting vocabulary, and eschewing the snobbish and ig- norant provincialism, or cockneyism — for such it indeed is, of calling Grouse, " Pheasant and Partridge," and thereby destroy- ing all consistency in the dialect, and all community in the feel- ings of the sporting world. The Quail is. The American Quail, Ortyx Virgiiiiana^ properly known in New Jersey and eastward as Quail ; wrong- ly to the Southward as Partridge. The Waders are. The American Woodcock, Scolopax Minor, sive, Microptera Americana — the latter, I conceive, a causeless distinction and subdivision— commonly called in the country, Mud Snipe, Blind Snipe, and Big-headed Snipe ; while its correct name, Woodcock, is often given to the larger red-polled Wood- pecker. The American Snipe, GaUinago Wilsonii^ commonly known as English Snipe. The Upland Sandpiper, Bartrain's Taller^ Tringa Barlra- mia, siiie., Totanus Barlramius, commonly known as the Upland Plover, Grass Plover, or Frost Bird The Ducks, which may be classed as Upland game, are The Dusky Duck, Anas Obscura, commonly known as the Black Duck. The Mallard, Anas Boschas, vulg. Green Head. The Green-winged Teal, Anas Carolinensis. UPLAND SHOOTING. ^ 49 The Blue-wingkd Teal, Anas Discors. The Wood Duck, or Sununer Duck, Jbias Sponsa. The Pintail Duck, Anas Acuta, vulg. Sprig Tail, Pigeon Tail. One or two other varieties of this family are common either to both salt and fresh waters, or of so rare occurrence as to re- quire no notice ; of the former I will merely name The Shovi:j.- ler, Anas Clypeata, and The Golden Eye, Anas Clangula : of the latter. The Gadwall, Anas Strepera. The Hares are. The Common American Hare, Lepus Ameri- canus, commonly and improperly, Rabbit. The Northern Hare, Lepus Virginianus, vulgarly and im- properly, White Rabbit. The Common Sora Rail, Rallus Carolinus, must be classed under a sporting head, peculiar to itself — as it is shot from boats, apart from any other species of game, and in different localities, though in the same manner, with some exceptions, as wild fowl on tlie coast. With the exception of the Wild Turkey, which is unquestiona- bly the noblest bird of the order, Rasores, and as such the king of American game, the three Grouse which we possess must take the lead ; and first in place, as in size and honor, I assign the palm to , . THE PINNATED GROUSE. Tetrao Cupido — Linn, Wilson, Audubon. La Gelinotte Huppee d^Amerique — Brissot. The Prairie-Hen, Grouse, or Heath- Hen. " Male, 18.27!,. " Abundant from Texas, throughout all the W^estern prairies, to very high up the Missouri, Kentucky, Illinois and Ohio ; al- most extirpated in the Middle and Eastern Districts. Resident. " Adult Male. " Bill short, robust ; upper mandible with the dorsal outline 50 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. curved, the edges overlapping, the tip declinate* 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,! marginate,J and pectinate, § hind toe extremely short, two lateral equal, middle toe much longer ; claws of ordinary l^ngth, 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 tibial|| and tarsallT feathers short, soft and blended. Wings short and curved, the primaries strong and narrow ; fourth longest, third and fifth nearly equal, second longer than sixth, first much shorter. Tail very short, much rounded, slop- ing on both sides, of eighteen broad, rounded feathers. " Bill dusky, paler beneath ; iris brown, toes dull yellow, claws grayish brown ; the general color of the upper parts is blackish brown, transversely marked with broad, undulating bands of light yellowish red ; the wing coverts and secondaries of a lighter brown, tinged with gray, and barred with paler red, the latter only on the outer webs ; primary quills grayish brown, with black shafts, and spots of pale reddish on the outer webs, excepting toward the end. Tail dark grayish brown, narrowly tipped with dull white, the two middle feathers mottled with brownish red. Space from the bill to the eye, a band from the lower mandible over the cheek and throat, pale yellowish red or cream color ; a band of blackish brown under the eye, including the ear coverts, and another about an inch and a half long on * Declinate — Bent downward. t Scutella — Scales overlapping, like tiles or shingles. t Marginate — Having margins or borders. II Pectinate — Toothed, like a comb. § Tibial — Belonging to the tihia, or thigh. IT Tarsal — Belonging to the tarsus, or shank. UPLAND SHOOTING. 51 the side of the throat. Membrane above the eye scarlet. Bare skin of the sounding bladder orange. The longest feathers of the neck tufts are dark brown on the outer webs, pale yellowish red and margined with dusky on the inner, excepting the low- est, which are all brownish black. The lower parts are marked with large transverse curved bands of grayish brown and pale yellowish gray, the tints deeper on the anterior parts and under the wings. Under tail coverts arranged in three sets, the mid- dle feathers convex, involute, white, with two concealed brown spots ; the lateral larger, of the same form, abrupt, variegated with dusky red and white, the extremity of the latter color, but with a very narrow terminal margin of black. The tibial and tarsal feathers are gray, obscurely and minutely banded with yellowish brown. "Length IS inches ; extent of wings, 27?.; bill along the back, T2 ; along the edge, \\ ; tarsus, lo ; weight, lib. 13oz. " Adult female. " The female is considerably smaller than the male, and wants the crest, neck-tufts and air-bags, but in other respects resembles him." — Audubon''s Birds of America. Attagen Americana, Brissot, 1, p. 59 — Pinnated Heath-Cock, Bonnasa Cupido, Steph. Sh. cont. 11, p. 299 — Tetrao Cupido, Bonap. Synop, p. 126. " Before I enter on a detail of the observations which I have myself personally made on this singular species, I shall lay be- fore the reader a comprehensive and very circumstantial memoir on the subject, communicated to me by the writer, Dr. Samuel L. Mitchill, of New York, whose exertions both in his public and private capacity, in behalf of science, and in elucidating the natural history of his country, are well known and highly honor- able to his distinguished situation and abilities. That peculiar tract, generally known by the name of the Brushy Plains of Long Island, having been from time immemorial the resort of t^ie bird now before us, some account of this particular range of country seemed necessarily connected with the subject, and has accord- ingly been obligingly attended to by the learno-1 P/o'e-iSur : 02 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. '"New York, Sept. 19, 1810. " ' Dear Sir, — It giv#s 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 district 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 before 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 offence and suffer the penalty. But it is provided that no defendant shall be convicted unless the action shall be brought within tbree months after the violation of the law." " • Tbe country selected by these exquisite birds requires a more parlicular 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, that 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, there 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, hy 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. tFnless, 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 years, the new growth of timber will be fit for the axe. Hence it may 54 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. be perceived that the reproduction of trees, and the protection they afford to Heath-Hens, would be perpetual, or in other words, not circumscribed by any calculable tinne, 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 where 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 . be 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 foi gentlemen who go the. e for sport. " ' Balk. — An adult Grouse, when fat, weighs as much as a barn-door fowl of moderate size, or about three pounds avoirdu- \ UPLAND SHOOTING. 55 poise. But the eagerness of the sportsmen is so great, that a large proportion of those they kill are but 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. " ' Amours. — 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 perceived it as far as five or six. This noise is a sort of ventriloquism. It does not strike the ear 56 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. 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 Guinea-Hen. When hatched, the brood is protected by 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-IIen plum or partridge-berry, 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 chiefly 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 pmched, they betake themselves to the buds of the pine. In convenient places they have been known to enter cleared fields and regale 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. " ' I\Ti(jrafion. — 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 the upper branches of pine trees. They avoid wet UPLAND 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 lly 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 GROusE-ground, that it is necessary to carry it along for the pointers to drink. The tlights 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 j\ew York, or the Partridgk of Penn- sylvania '.' Planners. — 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 Avith 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 5i FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. in tlie morning. This leads to the farther belief 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, iu 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 bfe 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 SHOOTING. 59 utmost expedition. As you have made no enquiry of me 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 o( the Medicd Repositoii/, I ventured an opinion as to the genus and species. Whellier 1 was correct is a technical matter, which I leave you' to adjust. I am Avell aware that European accounts of our pro- ductions are often erroneous, and require revision and amend- ment. This you must perform. For me it remains to repeat my joy at the opportunity your invitation has afforded 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 that the European naturalists, in their various accounts of our different 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 Co3rMON Partridge of New England, or Pheasant of Pennsylvania, ( Te/^ao Umbellus.) Edwards and Pennant have, however, discovered that it is a different species, but have said little of its note, of its flesh or 60 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. 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. This rare bird, though an inhabitant of different 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.,tliat 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, IPLAND SHOOTING. 61 had caught an old Hen-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 trickled down in drops along the bars, wdiich the bird no sooner observed than she eagerly picked them off, 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 stiil'refused to drink; but, though she was constantly fed on Indian corn, the cup and water still remained untouched and untasted. Yet, no sooner did he again sj)rinkle water on the bars of the cage, than she eagerly and rapidly picked them otf, as before. The last and probably the strongest inducement to their preferring these places, is the small acorn of the shrub- oak, the straw^berries, huckleberries and partridge-berries, with which they abound, and wdiich 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 wuth w^ood, 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 ■fi3 FRANK FORESTERS FIELD SPORTS. the Barrens, he one morning recognized the well-known muslft of his old acquaintances, the Grouse, which, he assures me, are the very same with those he had known in Pennsylvania. But, what appeared to me the most remarkable circumstance relative to this bird, is, that none of all those writers who have attempted i:.3 history, have taken the least notice of those two extraordi- nary bags 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 the 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 the bird is fly- ing, lying along the neck. But when these bags are inflated 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 difficult to describe by words. It consists of three notes of the same tone, resembling those produced by the Night- 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, while engaged in fight, on which occasion they leap up against each other, exactly in the manner of Turkies, seem- '"g^y '"^ith more malice than effect. This humming continues UPLAND SHOOTING. C3 from a little before day-break to eight or nine o'clock in the morning, when the parties separate to seek for food. " Fresh-ploughed fiekls 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 males, most of whom were in the attitude repre- sented, making such a continued sound as, I am persuaded, might have been heard more than a mile off. The people of the Barrens 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 Pilot- Ii*f DBS 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 sittin"-, 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 Hen, 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 seemel 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 lly-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 larvae of some insect, quantities of a species of green lichen, small, hard seeds, and some grains of Indian Corn." — TTI/soh's Am. Oniith. C4 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. Next to this fine bird, both in his game quahties and the excellence of his flesh, I note, unhesitatingly, THE RUFFED GROUSE. Tetrao Umbellus. Linn : Wilson : Audubon. La Gelinotte Hiip- 2}ee de Fennsylvanie. Brissot. — The Pheasant, or Partridge. "Male, 18.24. " Common from Maryland to Labrador, and, in the interior, from the mountainous districts to Canada and the Jashatchewan, 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 edgfls overlapping, the tip declinate ; under mandible somewhat bulg- ing toward the tip ; the sides convex. Nostrils concealed among the feathers. Head and neck small. 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. Feathers of head narrow, and elongated into a curved tuft. A large space on the neck desti- tute of feathers, but covered by an erectile ruff 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 toward the tip. Iris hazel. Feet yellowish-gray. Upper part of the head and wing part of the neck bright yellowish-red. Back rich chesnut, 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, betAveen tM^o narrow bands of bluish-white, of which the one is terminal. A UPLAND SHOOTING. 65 yellowish band from the upper mandible to the eye, beyond which it is prolonged. Throat and lower part of the neck light brownish-yellow. Lower ruff feathers of the same color, barred with reddish-brown ; the upper black, with blue reflections. A tuft of light chesnut feathers under the wings. The rest of the under parts yellowish-white, with broad, transverse spots of brownish-red ; the abdomen yellowish-red ; and the under tail coverts mottled with brown. " Length, 18 inches ; extent of wings, 2 feet ; bill, along the ridge, ^ ; along the gap, 1,'^ ; shank, 1/^ ; middle toe, 1^. " Adult female. " The plumage of the female is less developed, and inferior in beauty. The feathers of the head and ruff 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." — Audabon''s Birds of America. " This is the Partridge 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 perfect 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 common 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 mountains 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. 5 66 FRANK forester'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 are 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, aii error of Wilson's. UPLAND SHOOTING. 67 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 off. 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 April, 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 af the common Hen. On being surprised, she exhibits all the distress and affec- tionate manreuvres of the Quail, and most other birds, to lead you * Au error I Tlie Ruffed Grouse is polygamous, and does not pair at all. 68 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. 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 I observed only this one. The mother fluttered before me for a moment, but suddenly darted towards the young one, seized it in her bill, and flew ofi" 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 affectionate mother who had exhibited such an example of presence of mind, reason, and sound judgment as must have convinced the most bigoted advocate of mere instinct. To carry off a whole brood in this manner at once, Avould 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 with 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 the 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. At this season, when suddenly UPLAND SHOOTING. 69 alarmed, they frequently dive into the snow, particularly Avhen it has newly fallen, and coming out at a considerable distance, again take wing. They are pretty hard to kill, and will often carry off" 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, and tamed, so as to associate with the fowls ; and their eggs have frequently 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 chiefly on wor- tleberries, and the little aromatic partridgeberries, the last of which give the flesh 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 flesh 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, where this 70 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. kind of food has been long continued, and the birds allowed t© remain undrawn for several days, until the contents of the crop and stomach have had time to diffuse themselves through the flesh, as is too often the case, it may be unwholesome, and even dano-erous. Great numbers of these birds are brought to our markets at all times during fall and winter, some of which are brouo-ht 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." — WiIson''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 Grouse, 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. UPLAND SHOOTING 71 THE CANADA GROUSE. Tetrao Canadensis. Linn : Bonaparte : Audubon. Spotted Grouse ; FrankVui's Grouse ; Spruce Partridge. " Mule, \b1.2\l. 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 the eye 72 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ones more tinged with brown. Quills and larger coverts, black- ish brown, the outer edges of the primaries pale brownish gray, and those of the secondaries minutely mottled with the same. Tail coverts brownish black, minutely mottled and tipped with grayish white ; tail feathers darker, and tipped with dull brown- ish red- Lower parts black, the feathers on the throat having 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 coverts above brown, the proximal and axillaries tipped with white. ' "Length, 155 inches; extent of wings, 21|; bill, along the back,^; along the edge, ItV ; tarsus, 1^ ; w^eight, 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 Avith 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, 1 Si inches; extent of wings, 21 ; weight, looz." — Audubon. 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 setters or #- ■d UPLAND SHOOTING. 7,^ pointers, or being met with in suiricient numbers to render tlie pursuit of it pleasurable or exciting. The single specimen which I killed, rose suddenly from the ground, which was covered witli snow to the depth of a foot or more, in a little dell or basin, full of tall larch and spruce-firs, just as I came over the brow of the hill ; and 1 was fortunate enough to kill it at long range, by a snap shot. It was a fine cock bird, agreeing in all respects accurately with the above de- scription, from the pages of the greatestlivingjiaturalist. Feeling that something more than this bare notice is due to this beautiful bird, and with some faint hope that, by calling the attention of sportsmen 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 descriptions I shall adopt through- out this work, the following graphic account of his experience as relates to this Grouse. I say, that I entertain but a faint hope, because among many intelligent and observing friends, keen sportsmen and good shots, both in Lower Canada and New Brunswick, I 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 x\merican wilderness can, under any circumstances, afford much sport to the legiti- mate pursuer, though they may be treed with cur-dogs, and shot sitting, in sufficient 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 whole 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. 74 FRANK 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, who 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, Thomas Lincoln, offered to lead me to those retired woods, where the Spruce Partridges 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, ofiering a good price for a few pairs of old 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 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 twigs, 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 76 FKANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. to different woods, when they are more shy 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 Ruffed Grouse does ; nor do they burrow in the snow, like that bird, but 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 chicksj which they repeat on alighting. In general, when a flock is discovered, each individual forming it may be easily caught ; for, so seldom do they see men in the secluded places they inhabit, that they do not seem to be aware of the hostile propensities of the race, " Along the shores of the Bay of Fundy, the Spruce Partridge is much more common than the Ruffed Grouse ; which, indeed, gradually becomes scarcer the farther north 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 difference is, perhaps, still more remarkable in the Ruffed Grouse, which are so very gray and uniformly colored in the Northern and Eastern 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 possession skins of both species, procured a thousand miles apart, that present these remarkable differences 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 barometer ; for, on the afternoon previous to the occurrence of such weather, 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^enerally rained in tlie course of that afternoon. Wiien, on the contrary, tlie same flock would remain busily engaged in search of food, until sunset, I found tiie following morning fre.sh 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 18th of July. The affrighted mo- ther, on seeing us, rullied up all her feathers, like a common hen, and advanced close to us, as if determined to defend her offspring. Her distressed condition claimed our forbearance, and we allow- ed her to remain in safety. The moment w^e retired, she smoothed down her plumage, and uttered a tender maternal cluck, when the little ones took to their wings, although they were, I can venture to assert, not more than one iceek old, with so much ease and delight, that I felt highly pleased at having allowed them to escape. "Two days afterward, my youthful and industrious party returned to the Ripley w^ith a pair of these Grouse in moult. This species undergoes that severe trial at a much earlier season than the Willow Ptarmigan. INIy son reported that some young ones which he saw with their mother, were able to fly fully a hundred yards, and alighted on the low trees, among which he caught several of them, which, however, died before he reached the vessel. " This species is found not only in the vState of Maine, but also in the mountainous districts of New Hampshire, and the northern parts of New York, as well as around our Northern Great Lakes and the head-waters of the IMissouri. 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 upper tail-coverts, exhibited in figures of this species. 78 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. " Their 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 vi^ith 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 1833, these birds were uncommonly plentiful in the State of Maine. My friend Edward Harris, of New York, Tho^ias 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 i|j Maine and Labrador. I have also compared those in the Edin» burgh Museum, which Mr. Douglass was 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. » vinces ; while it is, I fear, scarcely less apparent that neither its numbers nor its manners will ever, in probability, allow it to be pursued successfully for the purposes of sport. In one respect only I must venture to differ 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 o[)inions of the wisest; since it is admitted everywhere that dc . FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. horizontal flight, however, renders it no difficult mark to the sportsman, particularly when assisted by his sagacious pointer. The flesh of this bird is peculiarly white, tender and delicate, and unequalled by that of any other of its genus in the United States. There is only one species of Quail at present known within the United States." — Wilson'^s Am. Ornithology. THE WOODCOCK. Scolopax Minor. — La Becasse (PAmerique — Brissot. The Mud- Snipe., Blind Snipe J Big-headed Snipe, Bog- Sucker. "Male, 11.16. Female, llTi.l7i. " Distributed throughout the country, extremely abundant in the Middle and Eastern Districts, as well as in the interior, where it breeds as far as Nova Scotia. Equally 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, sloping inward at the base, outward toward the end, the edges soft and obtuse, the tip rounded. " Head rather large, oblong, 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. Toes free, slender, the first very small, the second slightly UPLAND SHOOTING. 87 shorter than the fourth, the third much longer and exceeding the tarsus in length; all scutellate above, marginate, flattish, beneath. Claws very small, arched, acute, that of the hind toe extremely small, of middle toe with a thin inner edge. " Plumage very soft, elastic, blended ; of the fore-part of the head very short ; of the neck full. Wings short, rounded ; the fourth and fifth quills about equal and longest, the first three extraordinarily attenuated, being in fact sublinear, narrower be- yond the middle, the inner web slightly enlarged toward th-e end, the first as long as the seventh. Secondaries broad, the outer a little incurved and rounded, the inner tapering and elongated. Tail very short, wedge-shaped, of twelve narrow feathers, which taper toward the rounded point. " Bill light yellowish-brown, dusky toward the end. Iris brown. Feet flesh-colored; claws brownish black. The fore- head is yellowish-gray, with a few dark mottlings in the centre. On the upper part of the head are two blackish-brown broad transverse bands, and on the occiput two narrower, separated by bands of light red ; a brownish-black loral band and a narrow irregular line of the same across the cheek, and continued to the occiput. The upper parts are variegated with brownish-black, light yellowish-red, and ash-gray. There are three broad, lon- gitudinal bands of the first color, barred with the second, down the back, separated by two of the last. The inner wing co- verts and secondary quills are similarly barred ; the outer, pale grayish-red, faintly barred with dusky. The quills are grayish- brown, tipped with dull gray, the secondaries spotted on the outer web with dull red. Upper tail coverts barred ; tail fea- thers brownish-black, their tips gray, their outer edges mottled with reddish. The sides of the neck are gray, tinged with red ; the lower parts in general, light red, tinged with gray on the breast, on the sides and lower wing coverts deeper ; the lower tail coverts with a central dusky line, and the tip white. " Length to end of tail, 11 inches ; to end of wings, 9| ; wing from flexure, 5} ; tail, 2r3 ; bill along the ridge, 2/0 ; along 88 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. the edge of the lower mandible, 2^ ; tarsus, 1t2 ; middle toe, 1,-%, its claw, I ; weight, 6tOz. " Adult Female. " The female, which is considerably larger, has the same co- lors as the male. " Length to end of tail, llya ; to end of wings, 10t%; to end of claws, ISrV ; wing, from flexure, 5i% ; tail, 2x2 ; bill along the ridge, 2f| ; along the edge of lower mandible, 2h^ ; tarsus, 1t2 ; middle toe, li%; its claw, i ; weight, 8^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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 89 leaves and stalks of grass, laid with very little art. The female lays four, someliiues five eggs, about an inch and a half long, and an inch, or rather more, in diameter, tapering suddenly to the snuiU end. These are of a dull clay color, marked with spots of brown, particularly at the great end, and interspersed W'ith 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 February, 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 chiefly 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 difliculty, throwing his head toward the earth, and frequently jet- ting up his tail. These notes and manoeuvres are most usual in the spring, and are the call of the male to his favorite female. Their food consists of various larvae 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 fiom 90fr 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 fer 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 W^oodcock 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 time in the woods, he rises to the height of the bushes or underwood, and almost instantly drops behind them again at a short distance, generally running off" 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- UPLAND SHOOTING. 91 ter a long, clear, but feeble peep^ not louder than that of a mouse. Jhey are far inferior to young partridges, in running and skulking, and, should the female be unfortunately killed, may be easily taken on the spot." — Wilson's Am. OrnUhology. COMMON SNIPE. Scolopax Wilsonu. — Tfie EiujUsh Snipe. "Male lOi.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, tlattish, 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 92 FRANK forester'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, the second longest, the third very little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated ; secondaries broad, short, incurved, rounded, the inner very long, tapering, 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 bands, 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 Avhite ; abdomen and lower tail coverts grayish-yellow, barred with brownish-black ; lower wing co- verts similarly mottled. " Length to end of tail, 10^ inches ; to end of claws, 11' ; extent of wings, 17 ; wing, from flexure, 5 ; tail, 21 ; bill along the back, 2^^ ; along the edge of the lower mandible, 2y% ; tar- sus, 1x2 5 middle toe, ll ; its claw, o\ ; weight 3oz. " Adult female. " The female resembles the male, but is rather larger." Aaduhon'^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 fly 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 Avas 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 jNIichigan. They are but seldom seen in Pennsylvania during the sumnier, 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, irreo-ular flight in the air, in gloomy Aveather, 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 94 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. changed by difference of climate ; the former appears to me tho most probable opinion of the two. " These birds abound in the meadows and low grounds along our large rivers, particularly those that border the Schuylkill and Delaware, from the 10th of March to the middle of April, and sometimes later, and are eagerly sought after by our gunners. The nature of the grounds, however, which these birds fre- quent, 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. Ornithology. The last of what may be 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 Tetanus, 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. Tetanus Bartramius — Ujtland Plover., Upland Sandpiper., Frost- bird, Grass Plover. "Male, 12i22. Female, 13.22^ " From Texas along the coast to Nova Scotia. Breeds from Maryland northward to the Saskatchewan. In vast flocks in Louisiana, Oppelousas, and the Western Prairies, in autumn and spring. Rare in Kentucky. UPLAND SHOOTING. 95 " Adult Male. " Bill a little longer tliau the head, slender, straight, slightly deflected at the end. Uppei mandible with 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 obtuse point. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, linear, pervious, nearer the edge than the dorsal line. Lower mandible. Avith 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 sharp, the point very narrow. "Head rather 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 brown 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 body, cream- colored, with dusky lines, which gradually become arrow-shaped 96 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. on the breast, forming a double transverse band ; the feathers on the side barred ; the rest of the lower parts and lower wing coverts white, banded with brownish-black. On the upper parts the feathers are dark brown, glossed with green, with rich cream-colored margins ; the rump darker. On the margins of the scapulars, within the pale edge, is a series of dusky spots which, toward the end, become continuous. Alula, primary 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 quill white, those of the rest dusky. Secon- daries grayish-brown, their outer margins pale brown with dusky spots ; the inner darker. The two middle feathers of the tail 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, 12|^ inches ; to the end of wings, llg ; to the end of the claws, 13^ ; extent of wings, 22 ; wing from flexure, 7; tail, 3f ; base part of tibia, t^ ; tarsus, lo? ; first toe, i% ; claw, a? ; bill along the ridge, l/a ; along the edge of lower mandible, Ija ; 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 weighed 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. UPLAND SHOOTING. 97 " The dry, upland plains of those sections of Louisiana, call- ed Oppelousas and Attakapas, are amply peopled with this spe- cies early in spring, as well as in autumn. They arrive there from the vast prairies of Texas and Mexico, where they spend the winter, in the beginning of March or about the first appear- ance of the Martins — Hinmdo Purpurea — and return about the first of August. They are equally abundant on all the Western Prairies on either side of the Missouri, where, however, they arrive about a month later than in Louisiana, whence they dis- perse over the United States, reaching the Middle Districts early in May, and tlie State of Maine by the middle of that month, or about 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 been supposed that the Bartramian Sandpiper never forms large flocks ; but this is not correct — for in the neighbor- hood of New Orleans, where it is called the ' Papabote,' it usually arrives, in great bands, in spring, and is met with on the open plains and large grassy savannahs, where it generally re- mains about two weeks, — though sometimes individuals may be seen as late as the loth of May. I have observed the same cir- cumstance on our Western Prairies, but have thought tliat they were afterward obliged to separate into small flocks, or even into pairs, as soon as they are ready to seek proper places for breeding in ; for I have seldom 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 beginning of August, when they tarry in Louisiana until the first of October, they are fat and juicy. I have observed that, in spring, Avhen they are poor, they are usually much less shy than in autumn, when they are exceedingly wary and difla- cult of approach ; but this general observation is not Avithout exceptions, and the difference, I think, depends on the nature of the localities in which i\\e\ happen to be found at either period When on newly-ploughed fields, which they are fond of fre- 7 yo FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS quenting, they see a person at a greater distance than when 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 — Totanus 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 heads 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 — Dicji- taria Sanguinaria — and in the Barrens of Kentucky they often pick the strawberries. Those which feed much on cantharides require to be very carefully cleaned, otherwise persons eating UPLAND SHOOTING. 99 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 vv^ell be described here. When flavored vi^ith the ripe strawberries on which they have fed, their jiesh 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 different 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 Totanus MaculariuSy being broadly rounded at one end and rather pointed at the other ; their surface smoothj 100 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. their ground color dull grayish-yellow, with numerous spots of light 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. " — Audubon'' 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, I prefer to consider the Wild Turkey under the head of Western Sporting — I 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 Americamis. 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- ricamis— 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, which 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 de- UPLAND SHOOTING. 101 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 philosopher 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 above eighteen inches long, at the utmost, and does not weigh above two 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, positive!}" decisive of his species, the two animals 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 Hare — Lepus Americanus — vulg. TTie Rabbit. " Length, from nose to tip of hind claws, 16 inches ; length 102 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. of hind legs, IOtV; of head, 3^ ; of ears, 8^3; of tail, 2^^ , weight, 3 to 4lbs. " Ears shorter than the head. Forehead convex. Claws sharp-pointed, and nearly straight. Upper anterior incisors 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 succeeding 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 : — 1st. 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 have 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."—Deia^'s JVat. Hist, of 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 ; and 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, 20-2.5 inches ; of the hind legs, 11^ ; of fore legs, 6fV ; of the head, 3i% ; of the ears, 3i^ ; of the tail, l^^j ; weight, 6|lbs. " Head short ; nose blunt ; eyes large and prominent ; ears broad and approximated ; upper anterior incisors long and slen- 104 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. der, moderately grooved ; the small posterior incisors not as large as in the preceding species ; lower incisors wedge-shaped, nearly straight. Molars more compressed and broader than in the preceding species. Skull depressed between the orbits. Body covered with loose, shaggy hair. Feet thickly covered with hair above and beneath, concealing the long, thin, and slightly curved claws. Whiskers long and numerous, black, or black and white ; a tuft of three or four over the eyes, and some beneath the chin. " Independently of the change by season of this Hare, it may be said that at no time, unless in high northern latitudes, can two individuals be found marked precisely alike. At all seasons the base of the fur is lead colored above, and white beneath. " Winter Dress. — White, or nearly so, with irregular spots and dashes of a bright fawn color, which is more apparent on the ears, forelegs and rump ; ears margined with blackish -brown above, being deeper toward the tips ; tail, and all beneath, white. " Summer Dress. — Above, bright fawn or reddish -brown ; forehead, cheeks and ears of the same color ; all beneath, white ; edges of the ears white, bordered with darker, particu- larly toward the tip. At all seasons the hair on the soles is dirty white. Margin of the eyelids, dark brown ; pupil dark brown. Iris yellowish. " It is a distinct variety, differing in many respects from the cominon Hare, Lepns Timidas^ the Varying Hare, Lepus Varia- bilis, and the Alpine Hare, Lepus Glacialis, of Europe. " It is found from Canada as far north as Hudson's Bay. southerly to the northern parts of Pennsylvania, perhaps even of Virginia ; but in the Middle States is only found in moun- tainous and roughly wooded districts. " Its period of gestation is about six weeks ; it bears from four to six young at a litter. " The flesh of this and the preceding species is insipid, dry, and savorless, depending entirely on the condiments and cooking for its moderate goodness." — Dekay''s Nat. Hist. UPLAND SHOOTING. 105 With these seven birds and t\vo quadrupeds I might properly enough close my enumeration of our Upland game. There are, however, six species of Duck, which I have named above — Tut' DvsKY, vulgo Black DvcK] The Mallard; The Blue-winged and The Green-winged Teal ; The Summer, or Wood Duck ; and The Pintail Duck; all of which, although water fowl, may be regarded with great fitness as Upland game, since they all frequent fresh lakes, marshes, and streams — are frequently killed in swamps far inland, and many hundreds of miles above tide water, and with but one exception, are rarely met with or taken, in very great abundance, on the sea-shores, or even on salt marshes. The Dusky Duck is indeed a frequenter of the bays and of Long Island Sound ; I have, however, shot him so often, even over dead points from setters, on inland meadows — his flesh is so far superior when so taken, and above all, he so evidently prefers fresh feeding grounds, so long as the weather will per- mit— that I must regard him rather as Upland than Shore game. The American Widgeon, and The Shoveller, are so rare, except on the great western waters, which are indeed frequented by almost every variety of fowl, excepting only a few of the purely Sea Ducks, that it is needless to do more than name them. The varieties of the Merganser, generally known as Sheldrake, though sufficiently abundant, I can scarce bring myself to regard as game, their flesh being so rank and fishy as to be scarcely eatable. The six varieties above named, as being the most delicious, and in plumage the most beautiful of the whole duck tribe, must not be passed over so lightly. The first of these which I shall mention as being Avorthy of remark as the parent stock of our domestic Duck and Drake, second in succulence and flavor to none but the Canvass Back and Red-head, and superior to all except the Wood Duck in beauty, is log' FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. THE MALLARD. Anas Boschas — le Canard Saiivage. — Brissot. The Greenkead. " Male 24.36. Female 22. " Breeds from Texas sparingly throughout the United States, Columbia River, and Fur Countries. Abundant during the winter in all the Southern Districts ; not found in Maine, or Eastward. Adult male. " Bill about the length of the head, higher than broad at the base, depressed and widened toward the end, rounded at the tip. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline sloping, and a little concave ; the ridge at the base broad and flat, toward the end broadly convex, as are the sides, the edges soft and rather obtuse ; the marginal lamella? transverse, fifty on each ; the unguis oval, curved, abrupt at the end. Nasal groove elliptical, sub-basal, filled by the soft membrane of the bill ; nostrils sub- basal, placed near the ridge, longitudinal, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible slightly curved upward, with the angle very long, narrow, and rather pointed, the lamella? about sixty. " Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed ; neck rather long and slender, body full, depressed. Feet short, stout, placed a little behind the centre of the body. Legs bare a little above the joint ; tarsus short, a little compressed, anteriorly with scutella, laterally and behind with small reticulated scales. Hind toe extremely small, with a very narrow membrane ; third toe longest ; fourth a little shorter, but longer than the second ; all the toes connected by reticulated membranes, the outer with a thick margin, the inner with the margin extended into a slightly lobed web. Claws small, arched, compressed, rather acute ; that of the middle toe much larger, with a dilated, thin inner edge. " Plumage, dense, soft, elastic ; of the head and neck, short, blended, and splendent. Of the other parts in general, broad UPLAND SHOOTING. 107 and rounded. Wings of moderate length, acute ; primaries narrow and tapering ; the second longest, the first very little shorter ; secondaries broad, curved inward, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail short, much rounded, of sixteen acute fea- thers, of which the four central are recurved. " Bill greenish-yellow. Iris dark brown. Feet orange-red. Head and upper part of neck deep green, a ring of white about, the middle of the neck ; lower part anteriorly, and fore part of breast dark brownish-chestnut ; fore part of back light yellowish- brown, tinged with gray ; the rest of the back brownish-black ; the rump black, splendent with green and purplish-blue reflec- tions, as are the recurved tail feathers. Upper surface of wing3 grayish-brown ; the scapulars lighter, except their inner webs, and with the anterior dorsal feathers minutely undulated with brown. The speculum, or beauty spot, on about ten of the secondaries, is of brilliant changing purple and green, edged with velvet-black and white, the anterior bands of black and white being on the secondary coverts. Breast, sides, and abdomen, very pale gray, minutely undulated with darker ; lower tail coverts black, with blue reflections.' " Length to the end of tail, 24 inches ; to the end of the claws, 23 ; to the tips of the wings, 22 ; extent of wings, 36 ; wing from flexure, 10^; tail, 4^ ; bill, 2x% ; tarsus, Ij; middle toe, 2fV ; its claw T2 ; weight, from 2^ to 3lbs. " Adult female. " Bill black in the middle, dull orange at the extremities and along the edges. Iris as in the male, as are the feet. The general color of the upper parts is pale yellowish-brown, streaked and spotted with dusky brown. The feathers of the head are narrowly streaked, of the back with the margin and a central streak yellowish-brown, the rest of the scapulars similar, but with the light streak on the outer web. The wings are nearly as in the male ; the speculum similar, but with less green. The lower parts dull olive, deeper on the lower neck, and spotted with brown. " Length, 22 inches ; weight, from 2lbs. to 2h. 108 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. " The young acquire the full plumage in the course of the first winter." — Audubon^ s Birds of America. " The common Wild Duck is found in every fresh water lake and river of the United States, in winter, spring, or au- tumn, but seldom frequents the sea shore or salt marshes. Their summer residence is the North, the great nursery of this nume- rous genus. Instances have been known of some solitary pairs breeding here in autumn ; in England these instances are more common. The nest is usually placed in the most solitary recesses of the marsh or bog, amidst coarse grass, reeds, and rushes ; and generally contains from twelve to sixteen eggs, of a dull greenish-white. The young are led about by the mother in the same manner as those of the tame Duck, but with a superior caution, cunning, and watchful vigilance, peculiar to her situation. " The male attaches himself to one female, as among other birds in their native state, and is the guardian and protector of her and her feeble brood. The Mallard is numerous in the rice fields of the Southern States during winter ; many of the fields being covered with a few inches of water, and the soattered grains of the former harvest lying in abundance, the Ducks swim about and feed at pleasure. The flesh of the common Wild Duck is in general and high estimation, and the ingenuity of man, in every country where it frequents, has been employed in inventing stratagems to overreach these wary birds, and pro- cure a delicacy for the table. To enumerate all these various contrivances would far exceed our limits ; a few, however, of the most simple and effective may be mentioned. In some ponds frequented by these birds, five or six wooden figures are painted so as to represent ducks, and sunk by pieces of lead nailed on the bottoms, so as to float at the usual depth on the surface, are anchored in a favorable position for being raked from a concealment of brush, etc., on shore. The appearance of these usually attracts passing flocks, which alight, and are shot down. Sometimes eight or ten of these painted wooden UPLAND SHOOTING. 109 ducks are fixed on a frame, in various swimming postures, and secured to the bow of the gunner's skifi', projecting before it in such a manner that the weight of the frame sinks the figures to the proper depth ; the skirt' is then dressed with sedge or coarse grass, in an artful manner, as low as the water's edge, and under cover of this, which appears like a party of Ducks swimming by a small island, the gunner tloals down, sometimes to the very skirts of a whole congregated multitude, and pours in a destruc- tive and repeated fire of shot among them. " In winter, when detached pieces of ice are occasionally floating in the river, some of the gunners on the Delaware paint their whole skill", or canoe, white ; and laying themselves flat at the bottom, with the hand on the side, silently managing a small paddle, direct it imperceptibly into or near a flock, before the Ducks have distinguished it from a floating mass of ice, and generally do great execution among them. A whole flock has sometimes been thus surprised asleep, with their heads under their wings. " On land, another stratagem is sometimes practised with great success. A large, tight hogshead is sunk in the flat marsh or mud, near the place where Ducks are accustomed to feed at low water, and where, otherwise, there is no shelter ; the edges and top are carefully concealed with tufts of long, coarse grass, and reeds or sedges. From within this, the gunner, unseen and unsuspected, watches his collecting prey ; and when a suf- ficient number offers, sweeps them down with great effect. " The mode of catching Wild Ducks, as practised in India and China, the island of Ceylon, and some parts of South Ameri- ca, has been often described, and seems, if reliance may be placed on those accounts, only practicable in v.ater of a certain depth. The sportsman, covering his head with a hollow wooden vessel or calabash, pierced with holes to see through, wades into the water, keeping his head only above, and thus dis- guised, moves in among the flock, which takes the appearance to be a mere floating calabash, while suddenly pulling them under by the legs, he fastens them to his girdle, and thus takes as 110 FRANK FORESTERS FIELD SPORTS. many as he can conveniently stow away, without in the least alarmino- the rest. They are also taken with snares made of horsehair, or with hooks baited with small pieces of sheep's lights, which, floating on the surface, are swallowed by the Ducks, and with them the hooks. They are also approached under cover of a stalking horse, or a figure formed of thin boards, or other proper materials, and painted so as to represent a horse or an ox. " But all these methods require much watching, toil, and fatigue ; and their success is but trifling when compared with that of the decoys now used both in France and England ; which, from its superiority over every other mode, is well de- serving the attention of persons of this country residing in the neighborhood of extensive marshes frequented by Wild Ducks, as by this method Mallard and other kinds may be taken by thousands at a time." — Wilson''s Am. Ornithology. Next in size, though neither in beauty nor in excellence, to the Mallard, comes the Dusky Duck, better known in every part of the United States as the Black Duck., the latter being a misnomer as applied to this fowl, and really belonging to a very different bird, which will be treated of hereafter with the Sea Ducks — FutigulcR. This bird, unlike the former species, which is common to both continents, Europe and America, if not to Africa and Asia also, is peculiar to North America, ranging from Labrador to Texas ; in both of which, strange to say, and in all the intermediate localities, it breeds and rears its young. THE DUSKY DUCK. Anas Obscura — Wilson, Bonap. The Black Duck. " Breeds in Texas, westward, and throughout the United States, British Provinces, Labrador, and Columbia River. UPLAND SHOOTING. Ill Common in autumn and spring along the middle Atlantic dis- tricts. Abundant in the Southern and Western States in winter. " Adult male. " Bill about the length of the head, higher than broad at the base, depressed and widened toward the end, rounded at the tip. Uj)per mandible with the dorsal line sloping and a little concave, the ridge at the base broad and flat, toward the end broadly convex, as are the sides ; the edges soft and thin, the marginal lamellifi about forty on each side. The unguis obovate, curved, abrupt at the end. Nasal groove sub-basal, elliptical, filled with the soft membrane of the bill ; nostrils sub-basal, placed near the ridge, longitudinal, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible slightly curved upward, flattened, with the angle very long, narrow, and rather pointed ; the lamellae about sixty. " Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed. Neck rather long and slender. Body full, depressed. Feet short, stout, placed a little behind the centre of the body. Legs bare a little above the joint. Tarsus short, a little compressed, anteriorly with small scutella, externally of which is a series continuous vv^ith those of the outer toe, laterally and behind with reticulated angular scales. Hind toe extremely small, with a very narrow membrane ; third toe longest, fourth a little shorter, but longer than the second ; the scutella of the second and third oblique, of the outer transverse ; the three anterior toes connected by reticulated membranes, the outer with a thick margin, the inner with a margin extended into a slightly lobed web. Claws small, arched, compressed, rather obtuse, that of the middle toe much larger, with a dilated thin edge. " Plumage dense, soft, elastic ; on the neck and head the fea- thers linear-oblong, on the other parts, broad and rounded. Wings 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 yellowish-green, the unguis dusky. Iris dark brown. 112 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. Feet orange-red, the webs dusky. The upper part of the head is glossy brownish-black, the feathers margined with light brown ; the sides of the head and a band over the eye are light 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 are grayish 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 tipped with a narrow line of white. The whole under surface of the v.'ing and the axillaries, white. " Length to the end of tail, 24^ inches ; to the end of claws, 26 ; extent of wings, 38| ; bill, 2t2 along the back ; wing from flexure, IH ; tail, 4t 2 ; tarsus, IM ; middle toe, 2x2 ; first toe, 1% ; its claw, 1^ ; weight, 31bs. " 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, 21r ; to the end of claws, 22 ; wing from flexure, 10| ; extent of Ayings, 341 ; tarsus, 2 ; middle toe and claw, 2h ; hind toe and claw, 72. " 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, were extremel}"- 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 in number, lying on the former, sur- rounded with the down and some feathers of the bird to the height of about three inches. The internal diameter of the nest was about six inches, and its walls were nearly three in thick- ness. Tiie female was sitting, but tlcw off in silence as he ap- proached. The situation was a clump of tall, slender grass, on a rather sandy ridjie, more than a hundred yards from the near- est water, 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, by tlieir 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 were evidently paired. How far this fact may harmonize with the theories of writers respect- ing the migration o( 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 quantity of dry grass and other ve^-e- 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 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. length, one inch and five-eighths in breadth, shaped like those of a domestic fowl, with a smooth surface, and of a uniform yellowish-white color, like that 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 Stales 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 produce 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 whiteness 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 afford excellent eating ; but when the ponds are covered with ice, they betake themselves to estuaries or inlets of the sea, and their flesh becomes less juicy, and assumes a fishy flavor. During continued frost, they collect 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 diflicult it is to approach it, for many sentinels are 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." — Auduboii's Birds of America. THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. Anas Discors. " 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 equal 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 rido-e 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 convex ; 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 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. dorsal line very short and slightly convex, the sides internally erect, Avith about a hundred and twenty lamellae. " Head of a moderate size, oblong, compressed. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Feet short, placed rather far back. Tarsus short, compressed at its lower part, anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest cov- ered Avith reticulated angular scales. Toes with numerous scu- tella 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 reticulated 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, and 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 Avith black. The rest of the head, and the anterior parts of the neck, of a deep purplish-blue, Avith purplish-red re- flections ; the lower hind neck and fore-part of back brownish- black, glossed with green, each feather Avith 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, silky, Avith almost metallic lustre. Alula, primary coverts and primary quills, grayish-broAvn, edged with pale bluish ; outer secondaries of the same color, those of the speculum duck- UPLAND SHOOTING. 117 green, changing to blue and bronze, with a narrow line of white along their terminal margin ; the inner greenish-black on the outer web, greenish-brown on the inner, with a central line and narrow external margin of pale reddish-bufF; the more elongated scapulars similar, but some of them margined with greenish- blue. Secondary coverts brown, with their terminal portion M'hile. Tail feathers chocolate-brown, slightly glossed with green ; their margins huffy. The lower parts are pale reddish- orange, shaded on the breast with purplish-red, and thickly spotted with black, the number of roundish or elliptical 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 feathers, 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, 16 inches ; to end of claws, 141 ; to end of wings, 14| ; extent of wings, 31| ; wing from flexure, TyV ; tail, 3/2 ; bill along the back, 1| ; from frontal process to tip, Ik; tarsus, IfV; fi"rst toe and claw, y% ; middle toe and claw, HI ; outer toe and claw, ly^ ; weight, 12^oz. " Adult Female. " Bill greenish-dusky. Iris hazel. Feet of a duller yellow than those of female ; the head and neck are pale, dull buff, lon- gitudinally marked with brownish-black lines, which are broader and darker on the top of the head ; the fore-parts of the cheek and the throat whitish, without markings. The upper parts are dark brown, the feathers margined with brownish-white. The smaller wing-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 conspicuous in the male, is wanting. " Length to end of tail, 15 inches ; to end of wings, 14| ; to end of claws, 15 J ; extent of wings, 24 ; wing from flexure, 7j ; tail, 2t^ ; bill along the ridge, 2y-2 ; weight, 10|oz. 118 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. " The young birds are similar to the female, but paler, and without the speculum." — Auduboii's Birds of America. " The Blue-Winged Teal is the first of its tribe that returns to us in the autumn from its breeding-place in the North. They are usually seen early in September along the shores of the Dela- ware, where they sit on the mud, close to the edge of the water, so crowded together, that the gunners often kill great numbers at a single discharge. When a flock 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 slippery 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 fly 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, very susceptible of cold. They abound in the inundated rice fields 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 with rice, and by the common contrivance called a figure four they are caught alive in hollow traps. In the month of April they pass through Penn- sylvania for the North, but make little stay at that season. I have observed them numerous on the Hudson, opposite to the Katskill Mountains. They rarely visit the sea shore." — Wil- son's Am. Ornithology. The Blue-Winged Teal is stated to be very easily tan ed, and very docile in confinement. It is strange that this bird ttod the Wood Duck are not both domesticated. UPLAND SHOOTING. 119 THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. Anas Crecca, sire, CaroUnensis. " Male, 14^.24. Female, 13^22i " Dispersed throughout the country during autumn and spring. Extremely abundant during winter in all the Southern States and Texas. Breeds sparingly along the Great Lakes, and far North. " Adult Male. " Bill almost as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, its breadth nearly equal in its whole length, being, however, a little enlarged toward the rounded tip. Upper mandible with the dorsal line at first slop- ing, then concave, toward the ends nearly straight, the ridge broad and flat at the base, then broadly convex, the sides con- vex, the edges soft, with about fifty-five lamellie. Nostrils sub-basal, near the ridge rather small, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible flattish, with the angle very long and rather narrow. The dorsal line very short, straight, the sides perpen- dicular, with about a hundred and thirty lamellee. " Head of moderate size, compressed. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Wings rather small. Feet short, placed rather 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 deeply si- nuate. Claws small, curved, compressed, acute ; the hind one smaller and 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 120 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. and upper parts of neck very short ; of the back and lower parts in general, broad and rounded. Wings of moderate length, narrow, acute. Primaries strong, curved, tapering ; second lono-est ; first scarcely shorter ; secondaries broad, rather point- ed, the inner elongated and tapering, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounded and acuminate, of sixteen acuminate feathers. " Bill black. Iris brown. Feet light bluish-gray. Head and upper part of the neck chestnut-brown ; a broad band narrowing backward from the eye down the back of the neck, deep, shin- ing green, edged Avith 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 upper mandible. Upper parts and flanks beautifully undulated with narrow, brownish-black and white bars ; anterior to the wings is a short, broad, trans- verse band of white. Wings brownish-gray ; the speculum in the lower half violet-black, the upper bright green, changing to purple, and edged with black ; behind margined with white, be- fore with reddish-white. Tail brownish-gray, the feathers mar- gined with paler ; the upper coverts brownish-black, edged with light yellowish-gray. Lower part of neck anteriorly barred as behind. Breast yellowish-white, spotted with black ; its lower part white. Abdomen white, faintly barred with gray. A patch of black under the tail ; the lateral tail-coverts creain- colored, the larger black, with broad white margins and tips. " Length to end of tail, 14| inches; to end of claws, 15|^; extent of wings, 24 ; wing from flexure, 7| ; tail, 3l ; bill along the back, lya ; along the edge of lower mandible, lya ; tarsus, 1/2 ; middle toe, li% ; its claw, t? ; weight, lOoz. " Adult female. " The female wants the elongated crest, and differs greatly in coloring. The head and neck are streaked with dark brown and light red ; the foreneck whitish ; the upper parts mottled with dark brown ; the anterior feathers barred, the posteriors margined with yellowish-white. The wings are nearly as in the male, but the green of the speculum is less extensive ; the UPLAND SHOOTING. 131 lower part of the foreneck is tinj^ed with yellowish-red, and mottled with dark brown, as are the sides ; the rest of the lower parts white. " Length to end of tail, 13-' ; to end of claws, 14| ; extent of wings, 22|; M-eight, \Ooz.''—Audttbon'!i Birds of America. " Most writers on the ornithology of America have consid- ered this bird as a variety of the European Teal. All, how- ever, agree in their regarding the diflerence in the variety, and of its being constant in the Northern specimens. Thus, Dr. Latham mentions the white pectoral band. Forster says, ' Thi& is a variety of the Teal, for it wants the two white streaks above and below the eyes ; the lower one indeed is faintly ex- pressed in the male, which has also a lunated bar of white over each shoulder; this is not to be found in the European Teal.' Pennant observes, ' that it wants the white line which the Euro- pean one has above each eye, having only one below ; has over each shoulder a lunated bar.' The authors of the Northern Zoology observe, ' The only permanent difference that we have been able to detect, after comparing a number of specimens, is that the English Teal has a white longitudinal band on the scapulars, which the other wants. All the specimens brought home by the Expedition have a broad transverse bar on the shoul- der, which does not exist in the English one.' And our author in his plate, has most distinctly marked the differences. From the testimony of all its describers, marking the variety as perma- nent and similar, I am certainly inclined to consider this bird, though nearly allied, to be distinct ; and as far as we yet know, peculiar to the Northern parts of America. I have not been able to procure a specimen for immediate comparison, and only once had an opportunity of slightly examining a Northern bird. From their great similarity no observers have yet particularl}'- attended to the manners of the American bird, or to the mark- ings of the females. If the above observations are the means of directing farther attention to these points, they will have per- 122 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. formed their intended end. I by no means consider the point decided. " The naturalists of Europe have designated this little Duck by the name of American Teal, as being a species different from their own. On an examination, however, of the figure and de- scription of the European Teal, by the ingenious and accurate Bewick, and comparing them with the present, no difference whatever appears in the length, extent, color, or markings of either but what commonly occurs among individuals of any other tribe ,• both undoubtedly belong to one and the same species. " This, like the preceding, is a fresh water Duck, common in our markets in autumn and winter, but rarely seen here in summer. It frequents ponds, marshes, and the reedy shores of creeks and rivers ; is very abundant among the rice plantations of the Southern States ; flies in small parties, and feeds at night ; associates often with the Duck and Mallard, feeding on the seeds of various kinds of grasses and water plants, and also on the tender leaves of vegetables. Its flesh is accounted excel- lent."— Wilson''s Ornithological Biography. I have myself shot this bird repeatedly on both continents — of Europe and America — and am very decidedly of opinion that the alleged two species are identical. I have killed male birds in England with the transverse bar, or my memory grossly de- ceives me ; and most assuredly I have seen specimens here, since my attention has been called to the point of distinction, wanting it. I fancy that the variation depends on the age of the indi- vidual birds. THE WOOD DUCK— SUMMER DUCK. Anas Sponsa. " Male, 201.28. Female, 19i " Breeds throughout the country from Texas to the Colum- UPLAND SHOOTING. 123 bia, and Eastward to Nova Scotia ; Far Countries. Accumu- lates in the Southern Districts in winter. " Adult male. "Bill shorter than the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, slightly narrowed toward the middle of the unguis, the frontal angles prolonged and pointed. Upper mandible with the dorsal line al first sloping, then concave, ' along the unguis convex, the ridge broad and flat at the base, convex and sloping toward the end, edges soft with about twenty -two lamellae, unguis broadly elliptical, curved, rounded. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible flattish, with the angle very long and rather narrow, the dorsal line very short, convex, the sides convex, the edges soft and rounded, lamellate above. " Head of moderate size. Neck rather long and slender. Body full and depressed. Wings rather small. Feet very short, strong, placed rather far back ; tarsus very short, considerably depress- ed, at its lower part anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated angular scales. Toes scutellate above ; first very small, free, with a narrow membrane beneath ; third longest, fourth a little shorter ; claws small, curved, com- pressed, acute ; the hind one smaller and more curved, that of the third toe with an inner sharp edge. " Plumage dense, soft, blended, generally glossed. Feathers of the middle of the head and upper part of the hind neck very narrow, elongated, and uncurved ; of the rest of the head and upper part of the neck very short ; of the back and lower parts in general broad and rounded, excepting on the shoulders before the wings, where they are enlarged, very broad and abrupt. Winofs of moderate length, narrow, acute ; primaries curved, strong, tapering, first and second longest ; secondaries broad and rounded. Tail of moderate length, rather broad, much rounded, of sixteen rounded feathers. " Upper mandible bright red at the base, yellowish at the sides ; the intermediate space along the ridge and the unguis black, as in the lower mandible and its membrane. Iris and 124 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. edges of eye-lids bright red. Feet dull orange; claws black. Upper part of the head, and space between the bill and the eye, deep green and highly glossed ; below the latter space a patch of dark purple, and a larger one of the same color, but lighter, behind the eye ; sides of the neck, its hind parts under the crest and the middle all round very dark purple. A narrow- line along the base of the upper mandible and over the eye, meeting on the occiput, very pure white, as are some of the feathers of the crest ; another from behind the eye, meeting below the occiput, and including several of the lower elongated feathers. Throat for more than three inches pure white, with a process on each side a little beyond the eye, and another nearly half way down the throat. Sides of the neck, and its lower part anteriorly, reddish-purple, each feather on the latter with a triangular white tip. Middle of the neck behind, back and rump, very dark reddish-brown, the latter deeper and tinged with green ; upper tail coverts and tail greenish-black ; some of the lateral tail coverts dull reddish-purple, a few on either side with their filaments light red. Smaller wing coverts, alula, and primaries dull grayish-brown ; most of the latter with part of their outer web grayish-white, and their inner toward the tip darker and glossed with green. Secondary quills tipped with white, the outer webs green, with purple reflec- tions ; those of the inner secondaries and scapulars velvet black, their inner webs partially glossed, and changing to green. The broad feathers anterior to the wings are white, terminated with black ; breast and abdomen grayish-white ; feathers under the wings yellowish-gray, minutely undulated with black and white bars ; lower wing coverts and axillar features white, barred with grayish-brown ; lower tail coverts dull grayish-brown. " Length, 20+ inches; to the end of claws, 17|; extent of wings, 28; bill, iVV ; tarsus, I/2 ; middle toe and claw, 2t2-, wing from flexure, 9 ; tail, 41. " Adult female. " The female is considerably smaller, and differs greatly from the male in coloring. The feathers of the head are not elon- UPLAND SIIOOTlNt;. 125 gated, but those of the upper part of the neck are sliglilly so. In other respects the plumage presents nothing very remarkable, and is similar to that of the male, only the feathers anterior to the wing, the hypochondrial, the inner secondaries and the rump feathers, are not enlarged as in him. Bill blackish-brown ; feet dusky, tinged with yellow. Upper part of the head dusky, glossed with green ; sides of the head and neck, and the hind part of the latter, light brownish-gray; throat white, but with- out the lateral processes of the male. Forepart of the neck below, and sides, light yellowish-brown, mottled Avith dark grayish-brown, as are the sides under the wings ; breast and abdomen white, the former spotted with brown. Hind neck, back and rump, dark brown, glossed with green and purple. Wings as in the male, but the speculum less, and the seconda- ries externally faint reddish-purple ; the velvet black of the male diminished to a few narrow markings. Tail dark brown, glossed with green ; lower tail-coverts pale grayish-brown, mottled with white; lower wing-coverts as in the male. "Length, 19^ inches. " This beautiful species ranges over the whole extent of the United States, and I have seen it in all parts from Louisiana to the confines of Maine, and from the vicinity of our Atlantic coasts as far inland as my travels have extended. It also occurs sparingly in the breeding season in Nova Scotia, but farther North I did not observe it. Everywhere in this immense tract, I have found it an almost constant resident, for some spend the winter even in Massachusetts, and far up the warm spring waters of brooks on the Missouri. It confines itself, however, entirely to fresh water, preferring at all times the secluded retreats of the ponds, bayous, or creeks, which occur so pro- fusely in our woods. " The llight of this species is remarkable for its speed, and for the ease and elegance with which it is performed. The Wood Duck passes through the woods, and even among the branches of trees, with as much facility as the Passenger Pigeon ; and while removing from some secluded haunt to its breeding- 126 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. grounds at the approach of night, it shoots over the trees like a meteor, scarcely emitting any sound from its wings. " The Wood Duck breeds in the Middle States about the beo'innino- of April, in Massachusetts a month later, and in Nova Scotia, or our Northern Lakes, seldom before the first days of June. In Louisiana and Kentucky, where I have had better opportunities of studying their habits in this respect, they gene- rally pair about the first of March, sometimes a fortnight earlier. I never knew one of these birds to form a nest on the ground, or on the branches of a tree ; they always seem to pre- fer the hollow, broken portion of some large marsh, the hole of our large Woodpecker, Piais Principalis, or the deserted retreat of the fox squirrel ; and I have frequently been surprised to see them go in and out of a hole of any one of these, when their bodies while on wing, seemed to be nearly half as large again as the aperture within which they had deposited their eggs. Once only I found a nest with ten eggs, in the fissure of a rock, on the Kentucky River, a few miles below Frankfort. The eggs, which are from six to fifteen, according to the age of the bird, are placed on dry plants, feathers, and a scanty portion of down, which I believe is mostly plucked from the breast of the female. They are perfectly smooth, nearly elliptical, of a light color between buff" and pale green, two inches in length by one and a half in diameter ; the shell is about equal in firmness to that of the Mallard's egg, and quite smooth. " No sooner has the female completed her set of eggs than she is abandoned by her mate, who now joins others, which form themselves into considerable flocks, and thus remain until the young are able to fly, when old and young of both sexes come together, and so remain until the commencement of the next breeding season. If the nest is placed immediately over the water, the young, the moment they are hatched, scramble to the mouth of the hole, launch into the air with their little wings and feet spread out, and drop into their favorite element ; but whenever their birth-place is at some distance from it, the ■ UPLAND SHOOTING. 127 • * mother carries them to it, one by one, in her bill, holding them so as not to injure their yet tender frames. " Those which breed in Maine, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia, move southward as soon as the frosts commence, and none are known to spend the winter so far North. I have been much surprised to find Wilson speaking of the Wood Ducks as a species of which more than five or six individuals are seldom seen together. A would-be naturalist in America, who has had better opportunities of knowing its habits than the admired author of the ' American Ornithology,' repeats the same error; and I am told, believes that all his statements are considered true. For my own part, I have seen hundreds in a single flock, and have known fifteen to be killed by a single shot. They, however, raise only one brood in the course of the season, unless their eggs or young are destroyed. In this case the female soon finds means of recalling her mate from the flock which he has joined." — Audubon'' s Birds of America. The discrepant statements, alluded to in the last paragraph, concerning the gregarious habits of the Wood Duck, may be probably accounted for by the difference of the bird's manners in different localities. I have never myself seen above eight or nine of these birds together, and I presume that along the Atlantic seaboard, they are rarely seen in greater numbers. On the Great Lakes, and in the unbounded solitudes of the West, they doubtless congregate, as do many other species, in vast flocks. There is nothing which it behoves the observer of natural history more to guard against than a tendency to convert local or accidental peculiarities of individuals into settled habits of species. All wild animals appear to accommodate themselves with infinite facility to circumstances, and to adapt their man- ners to the necessities of the regions in which they chance to be thrown, more readily than is generally suspected. In one place, a species is solitary ; in another, gregarious in its cus- toms— here it is migratory, there domestic ; and to positive and 128 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. general dicta, ascribing these habits invariably to this or that species, much confusion and inconvenience may be attributed. As an instance, I will merely state here, what I shall go into more laro;ely hereafter, that the common Quail, Ortyx Virginia- na, which is to the Westward distinctly a bird of passage, with easily defined habits of migration, eastward of the Dela- ware River is unquestionably stationary ; and that from, this undoubted fact, a question has arisen whether there were not two different 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 the migratory habits of the Quail, especially on the Ohio and other large western rivers, have not ignorantl}' 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 with 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. Anas Acuta — Wilson. Le Canard a Longue Queue — Brissott. The Winter Duck, Sprigtail, Pigeontail, vulgo. " Male 29.36. Female 22i34. " From Texas throughout 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. UPLAND SHOOTINO. 129 " Bill nearly as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, the frontal angles short and obtuse. Upper mandible with dorsal line at first sloping, tTien concave — toward the curved unguis nearly straight ; the ridge broad and flat at the base, then broadly convex ; the sides convex ; the edges soft, with about fifty internal lamellae ; unguis small, somewhat triangular, curved abruptly at the broad end. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible flattish, its angle very long and narrow ; the dorsal line very short, slightly convex ; the sides convex ; the edges soft, with about fifty lamellae. " 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 back ; tarsus very short, compressed, at its lower part anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated scales. Toes obliquely scutellate above ; first very small, free, with a narrow membrane beneath ; third longest ; fourth a little shorter, their connecting webs 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. P^'eathers of the head and neck short ; on the hind head and neck elongated. Wings narrow, of moderate length, acute ; the first quill longest, the second nearly equal, the rest rapidly graduated ; outer seconda- ries broad and rounded ; inner elongated and tapering, as are their coverts and the scapulars ; first quill serrated on the outer edge, something like that of the Owl. Tail of moderate length, tapering, of fourteen tapering feathers, of which the two middle project far beyond the rest. " Bill black ; the sides of the upper mandible light blue. Iris brown. Feet, grayish-blue. Claws black. Head, throat, and upper part of the neck anteriorly greenish-brown, faintly mar- gined behind with purplish-red. A small part of hind neck dark-green ; the rest, and the upper parts in general, beautifully 130 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. undulated with very narrow bars of brownish-black and yellow- ish-white. Smaller wing-coverts, alula and primary quills gray — the latter dark brown toward the end. Speculum of a coppery- red, changing to dull green ; edged anteriorly with light brown- ish-red ; posteriorly with white. The inner secondaries and the scapulars black and green, with broad gray margins. Upper tail-coverts cream-colored, the outer webs blackish and green ; tail light gray, the middle feathers dark brown, glossed with green. On each side of the neck is an oblique band of white, of which color are the under parts in general ; the sides, how- ever, are undulated like the back ; the lateral feathers of the rump cream-colored ; the lower tail-coverts black ; those at the sides edged with white. " Length to the end of tail, 29 inches ; extent of wings, 36 ; bill along the back, 2/2 ; along the edge of lower mandible, 2t% ; tarsus, l/a ; middle toe with claw, 2^^ ; wing from flexure, 11 ; tail, 5|; weight 2lbs. " Adult Female. " The female, which is much smaller, has the upper parts va- riegated with brownish-black and light yellowish-brown ; the margin of the feathers and a mark on each side of the shaft be- ing of the latter color. The speculum is dusky green, margined behind with white. The primary quills grayish-brown. The lower parts are of a light brownish-yellow, the sides variegated with brown ; the bill is black ; the iris brown ; the feet light bluish-gray. " Length, 22| mches ; extent of wings, 34 ; weight, lib. 9oz. " The tirst observation that I made, on arriving at Labrador, was that no species of Ducks, excepting those which were en- tirely or chiefly oceanic, seemed to resort to that coast ; and I left the country with the same impression. We saw no Mal- lards, Teals, Widgeons, or Wood Ducks there, nor any species of Merganser, except the Red-breasted, which is a marine bird. The Pintail Duck, then, was not known in the parts of that country which I visited ; nor was it known in Newfoundland, on the Magdeleine Islands, or in the British Province of Nova UPLAND SHOOTING. 131 Scotia, at least along its Atlantic boundaries. In Kentucky, and the whole of the Western country, where it is extremely abund- ant in early autumn, during winter, and up to a very advanced period in spring, you meet with it wherever its usual food is to be found. It follows the waters of the Mississippi to New Or- leans, is seen westward in the prairies of Oppelousas, and extends to the eastward as far as Massachusetts, beyond which, like the Mallard, it is very rarely seen. Indeed, this species is at all times rare on the seacoast of the Atlantic, and must there- fore be regarded as an inland bird. " The Pintail, which, in the United States, is better known by the name of Sprigtail, arrives on the Western waters early in October, sometimes even in September ; the period of its ar- rival depending on the state of the weather, or the appearance of other species with which it keeps company. Their plumage is in fine condition when they arrive ; their tail feathers are then as long as at any other period, and the whole apparel of the adult bird is as perfect as in the breeding season. " Whilst with us, the Pintail is found in company with the Baldpate or American Widgeon, the Blue-Winged Teal, and the Mallard ; more frequently on ponds than on streams ; although it sometimes resorts to the latter, when their shores are over- hung with beech-trees, loaded with their nutritious fruits, of which this species is extremely fond, and in search of which they even ramble a short distance into the woods. Were this Duck to feed entirely on beech mast, I have no doubt that its flesh would be excellent. It feeds on tadpoles in spring, on leeches in autumn ; while, during the winter, a dead mouse, should it come in its way, is swallowed with as much avidity as by a Mallard. To these articles of food it adds insects of all kinds ; and, in fact, is by no means an inexpert fly-catcher. " The Pintails are less shy in the Western country than most species of their family ; and in this respect they resemble the Blue-Winged Teals ; which, in fact, might be called stupid birds, with as much propriety as many others. They SAvim rather deeply, keep close together, and raise the hind part of the body 132 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. like the Mallards. On the water, on land, or on the wing, se- veral may generally be killed at a shot. They are scarcely noc- turnal, but rest much in the middle of the day ; basking in the sunshine whilst on the water, whenever they can indulge in this luxury. " The flight of the Pintails is very rapid, greatly protracted, and almost noiseless. They remain at night in the ponds where they feed ; and continue there generally, unless much disturbed. On such occasions they keep in the middle of the Avater, to avoid their land enemies. In the Middle States they are highly esteemed for the table. There they arrive later, and retire sooner toward their breeding places, than in the country west of the Alleghany Mountains." — Audubon'' s Birds of America This species, like the last, is seldom found, in the northern part of the Middle and Eastern States, in such large flocks, as it would appear to use in the West. It is often found soli- tary ; and very seldom, in my own experience, are more than three or four to be found in company. I entertain some suspicion that the Pintail Duck occasionally breeds in New Jersey and in New York. In the former State, on one occasion, I shot an adult female bird, in full plumage, as late as the twelfth of May. She rose, before a dead point from an old setter, out of a thick tuft of alders on a large marsh mea- dow. I could find no traces of a nest, but can conceive no object but that of nidification which should have induced the bird to seek such a haunt. I have several times shot these birds during spring Snipe-shooting, so late as the end of April. The American Widgeon, Anas Americana^ is occasionally found on fresh waters, especially to the westward of the Ohio ; but rarely frequents rivers, except on their estuaries and sand- bars, where it associates more with the FuUgula^ or Sea Ducks, than with its immediate congeners. It is found on the Chesa- peake with the Canvass-back, and is known as the " Bald- pate." UPLAND SHOOTING. 133 The Shoveller, Anas Clypeata, is rare in the United States ; though they are found in Louisiana, Florida, and the Carolinas, in winter ; but are abundant on the streams of the Rocky Mountains and in Texas. The Gadwai.l, Anas Strepera, is also found, though rarely, along the maritime districts of the States. In the interior, espe- cially on the tributaries of the Ohio, Missouri, and Mississippi, it is said to abound. It is of solitary habits, rarely congregating in large bodies, and is therefore not generally known in the United States. Of the Sea Ducks, the Golden-Eye, FuUgula Clanguluj and the Buffel-Head, FuUgula Albeola, better known as the " Whistler," and the " Butter-Ball," are at times found on the fresh waters of the interior, but not in sufficient numbers to ren- der it necessary to do more than name them, as it would be a most liberal courtesy which should extend to them the style of Upland game, which may be held to be completed with the Duck last described. The list thus concluded, the nomenclature established on fixed grounds, and the general habits and territorial limits of every kind of Upland game being thus laid before the reader, I shall proceed to treat, each in its several place and season, of the Upland shooting of the Eastern and Middle United States, and the Provinces, in all its various kinds and phases ; touching upon each according to the date of its commencement in the natural year. m FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. THE UPLAND SHOOTING EASTERN AND MIDDLE STATES, AND OF THE BRITISH PROVINCES. PLAND SHOOTING, which, with the interval of about three months 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 diflerent 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 " Autumn 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 which I mean Pinnated Grouse ; since they are so nearly extinct in those districts in which alone Upland Shooting is practised 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 ; both established by law, and habitually practised, UPLAND SHOOTING. 135 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 Preserv^ation ;" 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 I have got through what I have to say on Upland shooting generally. And here I will remark, once for all, in re[)ly 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 especially 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 power 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 difference between the old and young, the good and bad, sportsman, natural qualifications 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 the 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, 136 FRANK FORESTERS 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 was 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 sufiicient. 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 !" But of these things severally in their places : and now to the field for spring Snipe-shooting. UPLAND SHOOTJNG. 137 SPRING SNIPE-SHOOTING American Snipe, — Scolopax Mlhonii, — which is commonly known in this country as the English Snipe, but which is undoubtedly a distinct species, winters, as we have seen, in the Southern States, and yet southward of the most southern ; being; rarely found in the winter northAvard, or in the summer south- ward, of the Carolinas. The great multitude 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 the 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 INliddle 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 season, 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 138 L FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. Nova Scotia they may perhaps be regarded as a summer resident ; though I am persuaded that their numbers, even there, in the sprin<^ and autumn, will be found vastly to exceed the tale of those which remain and rear their young. Throughout 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 Snipe during spring shooting is equivalent 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, unsportsmanhke 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 shooting at all ; and the same exquisite 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 the 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 139 the winter has been uncertain open and variable, and when the months of January and February have been, as was the case in 1843, unusually mild and genial, there is, as it were, no spring at all, winter lingering into the lap of June. In the year above mentioned, the ground was white with snow in Philadel])hia on the first of that month. In the former of these two kinds of spring, the Snipe compose themselves for a long sojourn, lie well to the dog, grow very fat and lazy, and defer their departure till the weather becomes so warm and dry as to render their migration a matter of necessity. As an example of this, in the sj)ring of 1836 I drove from New York into Orange county, on the 10th of April, in a sleigh, over deep snow ; and, within a week afterward, and thence up to the 10th of June, shot Snipe in abundance in New Jersey, both at Chatham and Pine Brook, on the Passaic. In the latter there is sometimes no spring shooting at all ; the birds merely alighting in ichisps or small parties, from five to twenty in number, remaining a single day, and then off again Northward, with no tarrying. For several years, latterly, spring Snipe-shooting has been so indifferent, that few sportsmen have followed it, and that the mar- kets have been badly supplied. The arrival, however, of the Snipe in New Jersey — in South- ern New York there is little good Snipe-ground — varies from the tenth of March, which is the earliest date at which I have ever seen them plentiful on the Upland meadows, to the fifteenth of April. If they have not arrived at the latter of these dates, it may generally be taken for granted, that the year will have no spring Snipe-shooting. It must be observed that obtaining great sport in spring Snipe- shooting must always, to those M-ho do not reside immediately on the ground, be more or less a matter of good fortune ; since it is not above once, in five or six years, that these birds come on and stajj^ under such favorable circumstances, as cause them to settle, as it is termed, to the ground ; and, when this is not the case, succes- sive tlights arriving, tarrying for a few days and passing onward, 140 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. it is very possible that a stranger, coming from a distance to shoot will find the meadows which were yesterday alive with Snipe, entirely deserted, and vice versa. Still there are signs and tokens both of the weather and of the animal creation — temperatures of the former and coincidences of the latter — by which the observant sportsman may come at con- clusions, even at a distance from his ground, and seldom 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 knowledge of which will enable one sportsman to fill his bag, 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 studied more closely than those of the Snipe, more especially during his vernal visit to our -)>f^ part of the country, for which my residence, nearly adjoining the ^ very finest Snipe-ground, as I believe it even yet 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, to Quebec, in the north ; and from the Niagara River to the coun- try about the Penobscot ; so that I have not been without oppor- 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 much deference, as becomes one differing from so high an authority, that neither in this nor in any other of our migratory birds of Game is there so much difference with regard to the time of theii 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 be a month later, varying with the season, in Maine than in Pennsylvania ; and ten days later yet in Nova TTPLAND SHOOTING. 141 Scotia Now I am satisfied that, unless when the winter is ex- tremely short and spring unusually warm and early to the West- ward, this discrepancy is greatly overrated. The average commencement of Snipe-shooting, even in Dela- ware, is not earlier, I am convinced, than the first of April ; and, except in uncommonly early seasons, they appear almost simulta- neously in New Jersey and New York. Early in April, I have shot these birds in abundance close to the Falls of Niagara ; early in April I have shot them in Maine ; and at the end of that same month, I have shot them on the upland pastures around Quebec. - On average seasons, that is to say seasons in which the spring is everywhere late and backward, I have found by my own ob- ',, ;'. servation, that the arrival both of the Woodcock and of the Snipe is nearly simultaneous, from Pennsylvania to Maine, and I believe on enquiry such will prove to be the case. This is, however, except as a matter of curiosity, tending to throw light on the breeding seasons of our bird in various places, and so to enable us to legislate with most advantage for his pre- servation, a matter of small importance ; for, from the moment of his arrival in each several locality, until that of his departure, he is incessantly persecuted and pursued ; and, as the causes of his arrival are the same in all places, so will, I apprehend, be the signs of bis coming also. The next obsei'vation that I would make in this place, is to guard the sportsman, in the United States and Canada, from placing the slightest reliance on the maxims, advice or opinions promulgated, even in the best sporting books published in Eng- land, concerning the Snipe, or its congener the Woodcock. The birds are in every respect different from the European ^, _, species, as to tlieir habits, haunts and seasons; and one point of difference alone is sufficient to render all that is laid down with ^ . resrard to the manner of hunting them there, entirely useless ^ -, here. There they are winter, here more or less summer, birds of passage; so that the localities which they frequent in the two '^'^ hemispheres are of course nearly opposite. Not an English book but will tell you, and tell you truly, as ^i , P /: 1^4g FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. regards the English Snipe, that the most favorable weather for the sport is dark, blowing, drizzling days — the very worst con- ceivable 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, sunny days, with the wind southerly. But of this anon. In the fli-st place, observe, as regards the arrival of Snipe on the meadows, that it matters not how fair and mild and warm the weather may be, or may have been for many days, overhead, not a bird will be found until the subterranean frost and ice have been entirely dissipated ; which is rarely the case until after a three days' storm of rain, with a stiff easterly blow, succeeded by soft, 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 to be found. ' The first of the winged harbingers of spring is the beautiful little Blue-Bird ; and so soon as he 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 chirping croak of the frogs rises from 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 amval, he generally hangs for two or t|iree days in small whisps, or, oftener 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 of Long Island, where the trout-streams, below the pond-dams, oveiflow the salt meadows, before a solitary Snipe has appeared inland. Then the salt marshes about the mouths of the Raritan, the Hackensac, 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 leagues, 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 preceded by a very sharp frost. The most favorable time is, undoubtedly, the first fine waiTn 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 ihv least abated. It has more than once happened to me, thus selling off late in the evening, while it was yet raining, to see the sky gra- dually clear up, and to hear the shrill squeak of the Snipe 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 Avill often, however, happen that the weather on the one or more days which can be spared for shooting, proves wild, windy and unfavorable ; 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, it 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 j)oured down warm but mellow, and when there is just enough of low 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, with the dust flying one half hour, and the sun shining clear but cold, and hailstones pelting down the next. The birds were, of course, 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 Avith 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 is, 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. 145 subsidence or evaporation, abounds with food of the kind they most relish ; and in such places they are often seen to feed. But in such, as the ground is either bare or but sparsely covered, they vi'ill rarely lie, so as to afford sport, until late in the season, when the young grass has acquired some height — when the sun has gained power, and repose and epicurean habits have rendered the Snipe tame and lazy. If, however, we can find ground such as I have described, inter- spersed with tussocky bogs and tufts of long grass, affording shelter to the birds, into which they will run, and among which they will skulk in ordinary weather, so soon as they discover the ap- proach of intruders, the chance of sport will be very considerable. In cold, dry winds, however, the birds will not even /eed, much less lie to the dog, on such ground ; and consequently we must in such weather look for them in very different places ; places, indeed, in which no books of natural history, that I know, would lead us to seek them, and in some of which the authori- ties tell us they are never to be found. But, to proceed in order ; the Snipe when flushed never rises down wind, the resistance of the air appearing to be necessary to enable him to get under way. On his first rising, which he does for the most part about breast-high, he hangs on the air a little, before he gathers wing, and then darts away up wind, if possible, if not, across wind, tack and tack, with extreme rapidity, and with a zig-zag flight, which renders them puzzling objects to a beginner. I think, however, that to a person accustomed to their motions, they are as easy a bird to kill as any that flies. Mr. Audubon states, in allusion to this supposed difficulty of killing Snipe, that he who can kill thirty in succe.ssion, without missing one, is a good hand at any kind of shooting. I suppose Mr. Audubon is speaking ironically ; for if by can kill, he means habitually, or even frequently kills, he speaks of an impossibility. No man ever lived who could kill, in that sense, either thirty Snipe, or thirty of any other bird that flies, in succession. I have seen many crack shots in my life, both here and in Eng- land ; but I never saw the man, and never expect to see him, 10 146 FRANK FOKESTEr's FIELD SPORTS. 'J^ who, shooting at every bird that rises in distance, can kill four out ff'p.f^ 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 ^'^"^ can hold his own anywhere, and against any one. ' '''^'"- Some men may perhaps kill twenty shots in succession, picked U^^t 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 lime, 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 by 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 jair shots at least. For the rest, birds will dodge, at times, just when the trigger is drawn ; boughs will be in the way ; the sun vo\ll shine in the face of the best shots — moreover, the steadiest nerves Villi 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. 147 Good shots have killed twenty shots in succession ; perhaps more, even in thick covert ; but that is a very different thing from saying can hill them. That, I am satisfied no man ever did, nor ever will do. This, though applicable especially to Snipe, is true of all sorts -^j. /■ of Game. After the observation, which has led me to this little / , digression, Mr Audubon remarks that he has found the best .1 • moment for pulling the trigger on a Snipe, to be that in which ,, ' he utters his peculiar shrill squeak ; and in this I perfectly agree with him ; for the Snipe utters that cry as he rises, and before he^^"**^ gathers way ; and I am convinced that the most killing way toy-/t^, shoot this bird, is to shoot at him during the instantaneous point . > of time in which he hangs on the Avind — that is to say, to pull the trigger the very instant the butt of your gun touches your '■'■■'- shoulder. ^ ' ^- 1^ The old school method was to wait till the bird had done .Vj, ^ twisting, and was at some forty yards distance ; but all that * •/ j stuff", like taking a pinch of snuff after a bird rises and before t raising the gun, was well enough for the days of long, single- ' ' * baiTelled guns with flint locks. A good shot of the present day "■,/ would knock over his dozen couple of right and left shots — not 's.X'-i in succession, gentle reader — while one of those slow coaches £3tJ-< was painfully picking up his half dozen. Cceteris paribus, the y quickest shot is the best shot. . Another maxim of the same age and the same school is, that the best dog over which to shoot Snipe is an old broken-down, slow Pointer — perhaps he « for a pot-hunter! Indeed, I be- ^ lieve, nine times out of ten, as many birds, perhaps more, iW 7 could be bagged without a dog at all ; or with a Newfoundland ^, or Water Spaniel, kept entirely at heel, and only used to retrieve the dead or cripples ; but where would be the sport of such " ' slow gunning ? The best dogs for Snipe are the best dogs that can be got for money — the bravest, fastest, most industrious, and best broken — Setters, for my use, seeing that I prefer them for all pui-poses ; but Pointers, if you will. 148 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. If they be staunch, and have good noses, and back well, and drop to shot, where they are, without stirring from the spot, and without being shouted at, they cannot be too fast ; and, if they will not do these things, it matters not -•- hether they be fast or slow — they are worthless. d/^-f' ■' The most effective-sized shot for Snipe shooting is unquestion- s * ably No. 8. With coarser shot, the charge will be so much V 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 *^'t distance; and will frequently go away entirely unharmed. A^ '/f Farther than this, it is very rare to find a lever-topped belt or f flask — which is by far the best implement for carrying shot — , that will not suffer any shot smaller than No. 8 to escape, even t ^ when the spring is down. Many English writers, I observe, recommend the use of two ' ' ' different sized kind of shot, one in either barrel ; but this is, in '" my opinion, neither sportsmanlike nor effective. In all events, ,^../ the barrels of a gun ought to be fired alternately; otherwise, .- ■ .y as five single shots are fired for one double, one barrel 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 ; f .^ and when fired from a close-shooting gun, properly brought to , ^ bear, will riddle its target thoroughly at the same distance. All -» 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 149 diverging lines ; and consequently, the longer the range the greater will be the interval between the grains. When birds are very wild, however, I strongly recommend the use of Eley's wire cartridges, of the same No. 8 shot, which I consider an invention in gunnery second only to percussion I will state here briefly, for the benefit of those who have not seen this missile, that the object of the contrivance is to propel the charge, like a single ball, for some fifteen or more yards fi-om the gun's muzzle. After this distance the case bursts, and the shot diverges as in an ordinary charge. The gain, there- fore, in distance, is precisely that to which the case is driven unbroken. This differs in the three different kinds of cart- ridges, blue, red, and green. The last of these must never be used, except in fowl-shooting on the bays, as the range is pro- digious, and on Upland dangerous. The blue, which is the common kind, will increase the range of every gun, in close- ness as in strength, from fifteen to twenty yards; and the red from twenty to forty. The more heavily you charge with powder, the inore closely will the cartridge carry ; the converse of this proposition being true of loose shot. It is useless, however, for any person to use Eley's cartridge, who is not cool enough to let a bird, which gets up under his feet, go away twenty yards before firing at him ; and who cannot shoot well enough to kill at forty, with an exceedingly close canying gun. I have shot Snipe, when very wild, and Quail in open ground, very late in the season, with blue cart- ridges in my first, and red in my second baiTel, and that with great success. I would, however, prefer the use of loose shot and a blue cartridge. With regard to dress, it may be well here to say a word or two ; for Snipe shooting is a difficult and dirty business, as far as the walking is concerned, and requires an athletic fi-ame, and a hardy constitution. For my own part, I have never ^ /// • found any contrivance succeed in keeping the feet dry ; for a . y single fall, or heavy splash, things of common occuixence, will '/^ fill the tops of the longest and most secure water-proof boots; liiO FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. Indian rubber is an abomination ; as, if it excludes water, it also excludes air, prevents ventilation, and enclosing all the exudations and transpirations of the pores, is equally uncom- fortable, unwholesome, 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 ti'ousers ; or, what I consider in every particular superior, and especially in the facility they give to movement in encumbei'ed 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 hip to the knee, I believe no walker who 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. CuUen, No. 119 Broad- way, New-York, is the only workman on this side the Atlantic, whom I know, that can tuiTi 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 continue wet through, until your return home at night ; but be- lieve me, as in many other cases, ce ri'est que le premier pas qui coute, the first shock is all that you have to dread ; the water within the shoe immediately becomes warm, by contact with the foot, and you think no more about it, afi;er five minutes ; while in a long day's fag the absence of the heavy, dragging tJPLAND SHOOTING. 151 water-logged jack-boots will make a difference in favor of your comforts, that words can hardly describe. About a shooting-jacket, I have only to say that it caimot be too easy, or have too many pockets. For material, every man has his own fancy ; I prefer strong corduroy for winter, and drilling or Russia duck for summer. Game-pockets filling the whole inside of both skirts will be found to carry a large bag with much less exertion to the sportsman, than the ordinary game-bag. A low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat is as good for open shoot- ing as any other head gear ; but for covert work, a close skull- cap, with a long peak, is the thing. The best preparation for keeping boots, or leathern leggins, soft, is currier's duhhing, which can be procured of any tanner. The best water dressing is equal parts of tar, tallow, and Venice tui-pentine, melted together in an earthen pipkin, and brushed slowly and gradually into the leather, before a slow fire, with a painter's sash-tool. This should be repeated every time the boots are used ; and it is well to observe that sun-heat is far su- perior to fire-heat for the drying of icct boots ; and that it is scarcely possible to dry saturated leather too slowly. These short memoranda, with regard to dress, will do once for all ; they are equally applicable to all seasons and sports, and I am not aware that anything more of real advantage could be said in a volume on this subject. Now fully equipped with all things necessary for our sport, we will take the field ; and supposing the morning to be favor- able, with a light breeze from the south-westward, the sky sunny, yet shadowed by floating clouds, the herbage underfoot dry, but the soil moist and succulent, we may make sure of sport. In the first place we will begin to beat, and persist in beating our ground down-wind, even if we have to make a large and te- dious circuit in order to do so. The advantage of this, arising from the habit of the Snipe, before mentioned, of rising invaria- hly up-wind, is that the wild birds will be compelled to cross us 152 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. to the right or left, affording much closer and easier shots, than if we hunt them in the ordinary manner. T am aware that there is an objection to this, in the fact that the dogs in some degree lose the favor of the wind ; but dogs, properly broken to this sport, should quarter their ground regu- larly before you, working with their noses up-wind, and cross- ing and recrossing at every forty or fifty yards, and will find no difficulty 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 deferred ; 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 a 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 perceive, 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 Avild 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 153 bothered, and to lie hard ; and even if your setter or pointer do run in upon two or three, in a day's shooting, the odds are, as Snipe-sliooting is always more or less snaj) shooting, that you will get a long cross shot at these, and pcrliaps bag them ; and, at all events, for every bird you lose thus, you will Icjse four which will whistle away unshut at, dead in the wind's eye, if you beat up-wind. I had once an actual trial of this kind accidentally, and on my part unconsciously, with a rather famous English dog-breaker and market shooter, on the Big Piece, a superb and very exten- sive tract of Snipe-meadow, just abf)ve the Little Falls, on the Passaic, the result of which 1 will mention as tending to exem- plify the fact I have been insisting on. I did not at the time know this fellow, though subsetjueiitly I have known him to my cost ; though I afterwards heard that he was acquainted with my person, and had made some small bet, or other, on beating my bag ; which, but for his want of know- iedge on this point, he would have done, for I believe he is a better shot, and he had decidedly better dogs than I on that day; the best of which became mine in consequence. It was a very wild morning, indeed, early in April, the wind blowing almost a gale from the westward ; and immediately ou entering the meadow, I perceived a man in a black velveteen jacket, with three veiy fine dogs, one the red setter I have named before, beating up-wind at some three hundred yards distant. I set to work after my own way, and so we perse- vered all day long, he beating up, and I doxon wind, often within a hundred yards' distance. There were a great many birds on the ground, and I had very fair shooting, getting at least three shots to his two, and those much fairer shots ; in proof of which I may obsen^e, that I killed three or four double shots during the day, while he did not fire one. At about four in the after- noon we parted company, not having interchanged speech, and I thought no more about him until I retunied to mine inn, when I learned that D had called to inquire how many birds I had killed, and expressed his wonder that a person who, as he was 154 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. flattering enough to say, did know something about shooting, should be such a flat as to shoot Snipe down-ivind. In the even- ing he came into the bar-room, and there found, first of all, that I had beaten him by some half-dozen birds, which he said he expected ; and, secondly, that it was for a reason, and not for the want of one, that I shot Snipe down-wind. He admitted at once, that he saw throughout the day that I was getting more and better shots than he, whereat he mai-velled, seeing he knew himself better dogged than I ; but that he still marvelled why I should shoot down-wind. He 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- moner, I think, than at any other species 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 alanned by the same sound. Under these circumstances, however, they do not usu- ally fly off" together, 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 often 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 hoth barrels in succession at the same bird, or even at two birds, nearly out of distance, since by doing so they will very often 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 155 a good chance, and lie to a ])()int. But blaze at him, and per- liaps sting him with a stray shot, and he shall fly you a mile at a stretch ; besides that, your shot has disturbed the meadow, and perhaps flushed half-a-dozen others. Let it not be supposed, however, that I would inculcate slow and poking shooting ; on the contrary I abhor it. The most unsportsmanlike thing that a man can do, in this line, is not to fire at a bird, when there is a reasonable chance of killing it ; the next, is to fire at a bird when there is not a rea- sonable chance of killing it. Snipe-shooting being practised ninety-nine times out of a hundred in perfectly open ground, the birds can be marked by an experienced hand at the work, to a great distance, and to a great nicety. But there is a good deal of knack in it ; and I hardly ever saw a countryman, who did not shoot, who did mark even decently. An ordinary obsei-\'er, when he loses sight of a bird flying low, is apt to suppose he has stopped at the point where he last saw him, a conclusion than which nothing can be more erroneous. Every bird has his own fashion of alighting from the wing, and that of the Snipe and Woodcock is very peculiar ; they both jerk themselves a little way up into the air, make a short turn, and pitch down backward. Once noticed, this motion cannot be mistaken ; and once made, you may be sure that the bird has dropped. All that remains to be done is to mark the place, so as to find it again, which in an expanse of open jiasture or meadow-land, waving with even grass, or covered with tufts of rushes, each one precisely like its neighbor, is far from an easy matter. The better way is to raise the eye slowly fi-om the spot toward the horizon — in case the ground is quite devoid of any near landmark of stump, bush, pool, or the like — where yon will be nearly sure to find some tree, building, hill-toj), or other emi- nent object, which you may bring into one lino with your bird, after which you will have no difficulty in finding him. In marking dead birds within a near range, you should ever endeavor to fix the very leaf, or branch, or bunch of grass, on 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 handkerchief, on that which 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 shooting, in marking a bird, whether shot at or not, which flies behind a brake, impervious to the sight, cast your eye quickly forward to the next opening, a little above the line of the bird's flight, if he 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 forward 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 good many shot ; but when he does so, if marked down, he almost in- variably rises again. Neither he nor 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 before he falls. A Quail or Grouse, shot through the heart, or through the brain, will 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 never saw this occur with a Woodcock, and never but once with a Snipe, which then only flirted up a few feet, with an expiring effort. When, therefore, a Snipe goes away hard hit, mark him cai'e- fully, and approach the spot stealthily, — it is all a toss-up whe- ther 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 shoulder, till he is bagged. I have seen a crippled bird UPLAND SHOOTING. 157 marked to a square yard, get away, owing to the conviction of the pursuers that he was dead, after the ground had been beaten to and fro by a brace of capital dogs, and trampled all over by as many men ; and I should like to know what can be more pro- voking than such a consummation. For Snipe shooting, the most effective party that 1 can con- ceive, will consist of two men, provided that they are sufficiently well acquainted each with the other's style of shooting and hunt- ing dogs, to work well together, — and two dogs, both belonging to and hunted by one man. In this case the sportsman can hunt their dogs alternate days, he whose tum it is not to hunt carefully abstaining from uttering a word, or making a gesture to the dogs. This, of course, can be only done by two old sportsmen, who know each the other's style of sporting, and will consent to give and take mutually something. The advantage gained is this, that a brace of dogs, used to one another, knowing one another's ways, and accustomed to Avork and live together, will do twice as much, and five times as good work, as a pair of strangers, jealous, and very likely broken in to different styles of action. No two men hunt their dogs precisely alike, — and, conse- quently, no two strange dogs, hunted by two different strange men, can or will work harmoniously together. If each man in- sists on hunting his own dog each day, the men will have bet- ter sport by hunting singly. But, in my opinion, one man wants a brace of dogs in tli.e field, — and yet a brace of dogs are enough for two men. When the number exceeds two guns, for Snipe shooting, by far the better way is to divide into two parties, beating, if you please, in sight each of the other, and so driving the birds backward and forward, — but not sufficiently near to allow the dogs to mix, or become jealous. The difficulty of getting dogs accustomed to different styles of sporting, to work well together, will be evident at once, if we consider that one sportsman trains his dog to drop to shot, where he is when the sliot is fired ; another, to come in before lis FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. charging ; that one insists on his dog pointing his dead birds before fetching them ; another suffers his to go on and fetch as soon as he 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. The last is, of course, a barbarism, to which no one worthy of being called a sportsman will resort ; the others are still held to be 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, Avithout stimng from the place, — which does not lie at charge, until ordered to " hold up," and which does 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- tridges of No. 1 or No. 2 shot, — Col. Hawker obsei"ving 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 159 to bag' ; for, without some such understanding, both charges will constantly be delivered into one bird, while others are going away unshot at. It is a most uncourteous and clownish fashion, that of shoot- ing across a companion'sface, if committed from ignorance only, or carelessness, — if done from jealousy, and a grasping desire of making a larger bag, it is unpardonable and ungentleman- like. A fellow who would do it, should be sent at once, nem. con., to Coventry. The genuine sportsmen will always give, rather than take ; and, even in the case of single birds flying forward in a direct line before two guns, the shot sliould always be yielded, espe- cially by the person who hunts the dogs, and who may be in some sort regarded as at Jiome, and therefore bound to do the honors to his comrade. Where two persons shoot much together, it is well to take such shots alternately ; and there is another advantage gained by this, as there is by the practice of all punctilios in sporting, that it tends to promote equanimity and coolness, without which nothing great can be effected in this line. So long as the weather holds fair, and the birds lie well to the dog, there remains, T believe, no more to be said on the subject. But it must be obsei-ved, that in wild, windy weather, early in the season, if we know that there are birds on the range, that they have been killed on the meadows in numbers, and for successive days, and that there have been no heavy frosts to ba- nish them from the district, they will be found, as I have before hinted, in haunts altogether different from their usual feeding ground. So soon, therefore, as it is evident that they are not to be found at all, or in anything Hke adequate numbers, on the meadows, it is advisable to turn your attention instantly to the skirts of the nearest woodlands, under sheltered leesides of young plantations, among willow, alder, and briar brakes, and, in short, wherever there is good soft springy feeding ground, perfectly sheltered, and protected from the wind by trees or shrubbery. 160 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. yj I first observed this habit of the American Snipe, Avhich is ut- terly at variance with the habit of its European congener, at the ' -y EngHsh Neighborhood, on the Hackensack River, where, by '*" " mere accident, I stumbled on a number of birds in the cow- Itv ■' patlis, 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 V even begun to pair. The habit is, however, clearly connected with their nuptial and vernal propensities, and probably conti- A' , nues from the commencement of their 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 mid ether, sailing round and round in small circles, and at times 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 comparable 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 ventriloqous. I have lain on the turf for hours, watching them when in this mood, and when all farther attempt at pursuit of them would have 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 ijuill-feathers edgewise, as he drops plumb through the air ; and that, while in this posi- tion, during his accelerated descent, the vibration of the feathers, and the 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, different from his shrill squeak, on being flushed, which is precisely identical in the Amencan and European species — this they describe as resembling the word " Peet,^' thrice repeated in a shrill whistle. This I never have noticed in the American bix'ds ; 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, consistinsj of a quick, jarring repetition of the syllables, kek-kck-kek-kek-kek , many times in succession, with a rising and falling inflection, like that of a hen which has just laid an egg. This singular sound is uttered as the bird is descending from its gyrations and musical performances ; and, afl:er 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, anc" 11 162 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. thereafter drop into the rushes. On both of these occasions, the birds hghted many times on the very topmost branches of the willows, and other trees, which lined the fences ; and on one oc- casion, 1 saw a Snipe take flight from 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 observed that when, at length, they ceased drumming, which they did as the day grew hotter, they all flew off" in one direction, toward some meadows overrun 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 more 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 arrival. I have killed hundreds of couples in such places ; and have put up scores, at a small enumeration, of Woodcock, tlien sitting on their eggs, from the self-same coverts at the same time. Indeed, the same brakes, a little later in the season, afford 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 would call 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 SHOOTING. IG.*] once, csjierially in the ways of animals, is like to occur aci^ain ; and 1 slioukl not hesitate, when there was no tract of low springy nmlerwood 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 INIiddle and Eastern States, bushy gi'ound, briar-patches, alder and willow brakes, and the like, are as regular haunts of Snipe in spring, as bog tussocks or marshy meadows ; and that there is no more propriety 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 rapidly and boldly. I was previously aware that, on falling wing-tipped into the water, it was able to support itself, and even to struggle 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 tlie fact under rather singular circumstances. I was standing still, loading my gun, both bar- rels of which I had just discharged, on the brink of a broad spring-fed ditch which 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- JJJL w socks, and the ditch. I had never, at that time, observed the ."* f\ , natural motions of the Snipe, when unalamied ; and I stood watching him, for some time, as he walked gracefully to and • * •'*t f^ fro, and stooped down once or twice and bored in the mud, • ... . . ■ ■;?/-tAA/ bringing up each time a small red angle-worm in his bill, utterly " unconscious of my presence. After a minute or two, he delib- 'VlV^- * * erately entered the ditch, and oared himself across it, as easily '■j^ ft and fai' 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 have ascertained whether it pos- 164 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. sessed the power of taking wing from the surface of water, which I am greatly incHned 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 the 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 brook-side, or on the foot of a wing-tipped bird, I should now certainly try forward, across the water, which I should not pre- viously have done. The 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 never does. By the way, since penning the above, it just strikes me that in the Spring of 1840, 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- pose them all to be connected 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 five times as many as I have in spring, I never heai'd any cry from the Snipe except the regular " scaipe ;'' nor have I ever seen UPLAND SHOOTING. ] G5 it manifest trie slightest inclination to alight on fence, rail, log or tree. I therefore, suppose these habits to be, like dnimming, peculiar to the season, and analogous to the circling and strut- ting of Doves, the fan-tailing of Peacocks, and the like. I should be curious to leani, however, from my Southern friends, who kill them during the winter in far greater numbers on their Georgia and Carolina rice fields than we can pretend to do on our baiTen bog meadows, whether they are ever known there either to take to woodland coverts, or to tree. The English Snipe, I am certain, never does either, both from my own experience, and from the observation of many older and better sportsmen than myself I have shot the English / > ^ bird constantly, and for several successive springs, in the fens of Cambridge and Norfolk ; and I have heard him drum there " ^ " ^ more frequently than I have here, but I never heard him chat- •' ' ,'Ium '-^ ter, or saw him take the tree ; and I am certain that he never / / ' 1 does so. ' While speaking on this subject I must observe, again re- . spectfully differing from Mr. Audubon, who asserts that " there •"•'■• *'*' is as great a difference between the notes of the English and .'•' ♦ 6 American species of Snipe, as there is between the American ,i,^ |, Crow and the Can-ion Crow of Europe," that in my opinion : * the cry of the two Snipes is j'C'fcctJy identical ; and in this '' " / view I am corroborated by the judgment of several English "^'^''G^ sportsmen, with whom I have habitually shot for many seasons * . here, and who, like myself, had killed nundreds of couples of ''*■' Snipe, before visiting America. The number of feathers in the tail of the European and American species differs ; and I am nearly certain that the English bird is somewhat larger and heavier — Wilson, who first distinguished the two species, noti- T itlh-'^^^ ^^^^ difference in size — but otherwise in appearance, and '[,^1\ in all their ordinary habits, they are identical. I lay, how- "i ' *^ ever, great stress on the difference of note, in the breeding I '■'■■■ *" ■' season, and in the other peculiarities alluded to, as setting the question of variety on a much broader and more distinct base, V. t-:- 166 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. than the distmction between sixteen and fourteen tail-feathers, and an inch more or less in length. Until I saw the American Snipe perch in tall trees, and heard them cackle like laying Pullets, I regarded the differ- ence between the species as merely nominal. Every day since that time I have more clearly discerned its reality ; and have in consequence 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 England. With regard to the habits of the bird in summer, I know lit- tle ; but that little is enough to enable me to say that they are in no wise different from his autumnal customs. The Snipe returns to Lower Canada, from the northward, with the 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 Goose Island, and hundreds of other places dov\Ti the St. Lawrence. Along both shores of the Great Northern Lakes they abound, at the same time, or a little later; and accordingly as the season sets in early or late, so do they regulate their arrival with, and departure fi-om, us. The earli- est period at which I have ever killed migratory Snipe, birds I 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 tJie 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 fi-ost 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 doubt of the fact ; as, being himself aware of its strangeness, lie took unusual pains to verify it by sufficient evidence. There UPLAND SHOOTING. 167 had been, if I do not err, a very early fall of snow, succeeded by hard frosts early in November, and after that, uncommonly mild and open weather. In autumn Snipe-shooting there is nothing to be observed, except that the birds are more composed and less restless than in the spring ; that, unless persecuted and driven from the ground by incessant shooting, they linger on the same mea- ^^-l" ^■^■^ dows, until the coldness of the weather compels them to travel f\ / southward ; that they lie much better to the dog, allowing / ' themselves to be pointed steadily, and rarely flushing out of /i-^e.vC fair distance ; and, to conclude, that they are much fatter, much larger, much easier to kill, and much better eating than in the ; spring season. I have never seen them in bushy ground, or even among briars, in the autumn, though I cannot state that they never take to such places. Mr. Audubon states the weight of the American Snipe at 3 oz. The average weight of the English species is 4 oz. I never, but once, weighed any American birds. I was then ^,^, /f, struck by their apparently unusual size ; when I weighed "-^ ^ i^ , twenty-five together at the tavern at Pine Brook, and they averaged within a small fraction of 5 oz. each. The Snipe is delicious eating, inferior to no bird that flies, / ^' ' ' save the Upland Plover, and the Canvass-Back Duck. Like //^»,, i all birds that feed on, or near the water, he must be edilen fresh, y^ f A true gastronomer abhors Woodcock, Snipe or wild fowl, . in the slightest degree high. Gallinaceous game are the better for keeping, wild fowl and waders are ruined by it. If pos- ^* ^nv sible they should be eaten within twenty-four hours after being ^ ^3^ killed. ^ They should be carefully picked by hand, on no account » ' drawn — that is a practice worthy of an Esquimaux, as is that of splitch-cocking and broiling them — the neck should be bent downward, and the bill run transversely through the body, im- A 'a/ mediately below the pinions; one leg thrust through the sinew > , .^ ^ of the other thigh — they should be roasted, at the outside, ten minutes before a very quick, brisk fire ; with no condiment, or " 168 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. butter — a thin slice of crisp buttered toast should be laid under them while cooking, to catch the gravy and trail, if it chance to fall out ; and this is to be served up under them, when dished for the table. Any made gravy or sauce is an abomination; and the practice of blanketing the birds while roasting in slips of fat bacon should be held the death-wan-ant of any cook, in a well regulated family. A little salt, and bread quantum stiff. may be eaten with him ; and a glass — or if you please bottle — of chambertin drank with him — but, as you live, eschew sauces, vegetables, or — small beer ! More people, I believe, know better how to kill a Snipe secundum artem, than how to cook him decently, or eat him gracefully, 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 quality to care much about eating game, I should at least have him eaten, if eaten he must be, as a dish for gods, not as a carcase for hounds. UPLAJIP SHOOTING. 169 SUMMER WOODCOCK SHOOTING TIE wisdom of oar game laws has tlccided that Woodcock shall be kill- |\jS-^cd and taken, by all and sundry, in the State of New- York, on and after tlie first, in the State of New Jersey on and after the fifth day of July; .ilthough in the latter State the prac- tice of the sovereign people has de- termined that the fourth is the day intended by the enactment, and on the fourth, accordingly, the slaughter commences. In Pennsylvania, and Connecticut, practice at least, if not law — and until recently, if there be now, there was no statute on the subject — ^has prescribed the same, or nearly the same period, for the commencement of Cock-shooting; and even in those counties of New- York to which the enactment of these game laws, such as they are, does not extend, tacit agreement has prescribed the same regulation, at least among sportsmen. So far, indeed, has this practice been earned, that by means of a convention of this sort, the shooting of Woodcock is ta- booed, until the fourth of July, even in the islands of the Great Lakes and the Detroit River. The example was set by the officers, I believe, of the American and British gaiTisons at Detroit and Amherstberg, acting in concert, and the practice has almost become common law. The fact is, therefore, that everywhere through the United States and the British Provinces, whether there is or is not any distinct law on the subject, the commencement of July is aa 170 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. regularly hailed the legitimate time for Woodcock shooting, as the first of September in England for Partridge, In New Jersey, which is in almost every respect a century behind all the neighboring States, there is a special proviso that on his own ground every man may kill all sorts of game whenever he pleases, without the slightest reference to common sense or humanity, and may give permission, to any one he pleases, to do likewise. A proviso, which not only abrogates the whole law, in point of fact, but in truth gives the poacher a clear advantage over the honorable sportsman. There is, however, I imagine, no prospect of any alteration of . this law, which is in perfect keeping with the pig-headed stupidity manifested throughout the legislation of that State. And why, in fact, should not a man be allowed to kill Wood- cock whenever he likes on his ovioi ground, in a State wherein a company is licensed to kill men and women, whenever they like, on their own rail-road ; and charge them whatever they like for killing them into the bargain 1 On the first of July, then. Woodcock shooting legitimately commences ; although before that day hundreds, nay thousands, are killed along the sea-board, and notoriously offered for sale by almost all the restaurateurs and hotel-keepers in New- York, the utmost efforts of the Sportsman's Club to the contrary not- withstanding. At this period, about four-fifths of the birds — the young birds, of course, I mean — are half grown or thereabout, some only being a few weeks old, and others, in late and adverse seasons, scarcely hatched. The Woodcock commences laying as early as the beginning of February, and sometimes lays so late as to the end of June, or the beginning of July. The eggs are four, and sometimes five in number, — of no more than this does any naturalist in- form us. Whether the old birds regularly breed a second, and third time, what becomes of the young birds of the first hatch- ing in the meantime, and whether they are protected by the male bird, is all left dark. PPLAND SHOOTING, 171 Now, although the length of time occupied by incubation, i.^ not laid down in the books, it cannot exceed eighteen or twenty days, — the young birds run the moment they clip the shell ; and it is stated by Mr. Audubon, I doubt not, correctly, that at six weeks' old, they are strong and quick on the wing. According to tills, there should be many birds well on the wing early in April ; and from all we know of the growth of these birds, no difference being manifest after the August moult between the old and young, these should be fully equal to the parents in size on the first of July. I have myself no doubt, that the Woodcock regularly breeds twice, and sometimes thrice a season, although it is certain that young birds of two different sizes, and consequently different hatchings, are never found in July with the same parents. It occurs to me, but I cannot be sure of the fact, as I only speak fl-om vague recollection, that in the few cases where it is possible to be assured, that all the birds killed are of one brood, — as, for instance, in small hill-swales, and the like, containing one resting-place — I have never seen above one old bird with the brood. In adverse seasons — the worst of which are those which, after a favorable and early spring, become cold and wet in May and June, — when the first brood is destroyed by floods, the old birds do unquestionably breed a second time, and hatch a very late brood, so late as to the middle of July. And of this, I think, the following anecdote will be held sufficient proof and confirmation. This anecdote was published by me some two or three years since, in the columns of a leading monthly magazine, in connec- tion with a number of remarks concerning the habits of the Woodcock, on some of which I have since been led to alter my opinion. I was, at that time, inclined to believe that the parent birds retained several broods of young, of different sizes, about them ; but I am satisfied that this view of the case was errone- ous, and was induced by the accident of two or more broods having come in contact, as is perpetually the case on well- stocked ground, under the care of only ofie parent bird each. 172 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. The only way to verify the facts satisfactorily, would be to mark down, in the daily return of game killed, the number of old birds in proportion to young, and to ascertain the sex of the former by dissection. The female bird, it is true, is somewhat the lar- ger ; but it is not safe to reckon on the eye, or even on the scales, for the determination of the sex. By the way, I conceive that there must be some error in the printing of Mr. Audubon's statement concerning this relative disproportion. He states the weight of the male bird at 6i oz., which appears to me, beyond all question, inadequately low, — and that of the female, at 8^ oz. ; while in length the female exceeds the male only by xV of an inch. This difference is inconceivable, not to say impossible. The understatement of the male Woodcock's weight struck me at first sight ; and I endeavored to account for it to myself, by supposing that Summer Cock had been assumed as the base of calculation. I presume noio, that %\ oz. is a typographical er- ror for 8 J ; which I should have stated, if asked suddenly, as about the average weight of a full-grown Woodcock. The bird fi-om which the accompanying wood-cut was taken, shot by my- self on the 23d of October, 1843, weighed 9| oz., measured 13 .nches from bill to claw, and 18 from wing to wing extended ; but this was an uncommonly large bird. I have, however, heard of their being killed up to 11 oz. Once for all, it appears to me that Mr. Audubon understates the weight of his game birds generally. The coming season I will cany a small scale in my jacket pocket, and would earnestly urge it on every sportsman to do the same. They can be obtained at any tackle shop, and will weigh up to 10 or 12 lbs., being as portable as a common pencil-case. A few years since — I think it was in 1841 — there was a deep fall of snow, covering the greater part of the State of New York, near eighteen inches deep, so late as the 12th or 15th of May. It thawed, of course, immediately, and produced a complete in- undation, the early spring having been rather uncommonly dry. From this I augured ill for the prospects of the shooting season. But fine weather followed, and by most persons the Spring snow- storm and freshet were forgotten. UPLAND SHOOTING. 173 On the first of July I went with a friend, a good shot and ea- ger sportsman, to a favorite shooting ground, in Orange county, N. Y., on a part of which — for it had a very large range, and contained many varieties of lying — we had bagged on the pre- vious year a hundred und twenty-five ])irds in a single day's shooting. We shot the first day on the low meadows, and killed hardly any birds ; not, to the best of my recollection, above ten or a dozen, in a severe day's walking. They were well grown birds, but not a single old one in the number. My companion, greatly annoyed, insisted that the gi'ound had been hunted befoi e that season, and all the birds killed off, except the handful that \\e had found. From this conclusion I dissented, arguing that if such had been the case, we should have found old birds, the young being the easier both to find and to kill, especially for cockney sportsmen, who alone may be presumed to hunt before, that sea- son. My friend grew almost angry, and asked me, " Where, then, are the birds ]" I answered, " Wait till to-morrow even- ing, when we shall have beat our other ground, and I \\'\\\ tell you." The next day we did beat the other ground ; wet swales, and sloping woods of small extent in valleys watered by little stream- lets from the hills. The result was the same, a wretched day's sport, and no old birds, or at least hardly any. As usual, each held his own position ; my friend again asked, " How do you account for this f ' I replied, " All the young broods have been destroyed by the freshet, except the very few which o-ot off before the May flood. This accounts for the few- ness of the birds, and for the uncommon size of those few. The old birds are now hatching their second broods on the ridges and hill sides. I will show you that I am right, to-morrow." And to-morrow I did show him that the ridges and sapling coverts — sprouts, as the country people call them — were full of old birds, hovering, and no young ones. Still my companion was incredulous as to the second broods, lentil in the afternoon, as I was passing through a little clump of 174 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. alders, not above two or three yards square, I flushed a bird which flew out to him. He fired. I called out to enquire whe- ther he had killed, and as he answered " yes," I heard the bird flapping its wings on the ground, in the death-struggle, as I ima- gined. Knowing that he could recover the bird, in the open ground, I beat out the thicket thoroughly, and left it, satisfied that it contained no other bird, though I had some difficulty in getting one of my Setters away from what I supposed to be a field mouse. On joining my friend, he told me that the bird had flapped up, when he was in the act of laying his hand upon it, and had staggered away, seeming every moment on the point of falling, so that he did not care to fire at it again, until it got out of shot ; but that he had marked it down to a yard, in a thick b'rush fence, three or four hundred yards away. On going to the place, the dogs took the scent readily ; but, while they were trailing it, the bird rose, a hundred yards off*, flapping and stag- gering about, as if severely hurt ; and flew some three or four hundred yards farther from the thicket in which we first started it, and dropped again in a piece of thick hill-side coppice. I marked the bird accurately by the top of a pine tree, and off" we set in pursuit, I more than half suspecting that the bird was un- wounded. Scarce had we entered the covert, when up whizzed the identical bird fresh and sound, from the very brake in which I had marked him, and away like a bullet through the tree tops. 80 thoroughly convinced was I, that, though I could have killed the bird with ease, I would not fire at it ; but to convince my still doubting friend, we walked back to the little tuft in which we first sprung the cock ; he promising not to fire if we should again flush her. My dogs were not well in the alders before the bird rose again, and was going away at her best pace, when my friend's shot stopped her, to my infinite disgust. He is a very quick shot, and in the excitement of the moment forgot everything except the game and the fury of pursuit. Almost at the same moment, old Chance — he was the best re- triever I ever saw in any country — picked up from the spot where I had supposed he was snuffing after a field-mouse UPLAND SHOOTING. 175 a young downy, unfledged Woodcock, less than two inches long. Chaiiro would carry a hurt bird by the tip of his wing, with- out ruflling a feather; and though it will hardly be believed, I took the little fledgling from his mouth unbanned, and had the satisfaction of seeing him run away briskly, and hide himself behind a dock-leaf. That day we shot no more, nor indeed that summer ; but before we left Orange county, I went again to the same brake with the old dog, but without a gun, and flushed what I presume to have been the male bird, which, by its simulated crippled flight, again drawing me away from the spot, convinced me that he was watching over his motherless little ones. Had I needed anything to convince me that Woodcock ought not to be shot in July, that scene would bave convinced me ; and since that day I have never ceased to advocate a change and simplification of our game laws, which should prohibit the kilHng of Woodcock until the first day of October ; and make that one day the end of close time for all game whatever. For the present, however, until the game laws shall be al- tered, and established on a more reasonable and more penna- nent footing, of which I flatter myself there is still a remote hope lefl; to the true sportsman, there is nothing left but to make the best of it, — to take the field ourselves, with the c( iroWoi, and do our best at the slaughter ; nor will I deny that there is much sport in it, though sport which, if men could be induced to fore- go it, would lead to such results in autumn, as we can now hardly imagine. This interesting little bird, being properly nocturnal in his habits, is rai-ely or never seen by day, unless by those who are especially in pursuit of him, and even by them he is found with difficulty, unless when hunted with well broke dogs. At nightfall, however, he may often be seen on the wing, darting athwart the gloom from the dry upland coverts, in which at many seasons he loves to lie, toward his wet feeding grounds. During the hours of darkness he is on the alert con- 176 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. stantly ; by niglit he seeks his food ; by night he makes his lono- and direct migrations, choosing for this latter pui-pose foo-cry weather, at or about the full of the moon. By day he lies snugly ensconced, in some lonely brake, among long grass and fera, under the shade of the dark alder or the silveiy willow, and near to some marshy level, or muddy streamlet's brink 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 twice to come upon 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, from 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 hungiy soils, as of Long Island, 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 marsh 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 occui's after the first moult, the "Woodcock is a solitary bird, acting and moving for himself 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, until the commencement of the breeding season. At this period of the year, from July I mean, to the begin- ning of the moult, when the bird disappears from among us for UPLAND SHOOTINfJ. 177 a while, the young broods arc found on the ground in which tliey are bred. And there is scarcely any sort of ground, in which the soil consists of black vegetable mould, or ricli loam of any kind, and in which there is a sufficiency of water, that is not conge- nial to him as a breeding place — I except always the depths of the primeval forests, in which he never is found. The narrowest ravines, down which the merest thread of wa- ter trickles among bare gray rocks, provided there is a Ijcd of rich succulent soil in the bottom of the swale, even at the height of 800 feet above tide-water will hold a brood or two ; so will the swampy bogs and morasses on the tops of th(> high- est hills ; but the favorite breeding ground of the bird is un- doubtedly level marsh meadows, interspersed with cluni])s and thickets of willow and alder, maple groves, growing on swampy land, and warm sequestered vallies. In South- West Jersey, they are found in the greatest abun- ^p" dance on perfectly open meadows, among bog grass and rushes, ' , in exactly what would usually be called admirable Snipe- 'tit ground ; and I have killed them in the neighborhood of Sali-m, .,\(^,. in considerable numbers, where there was n(tl a tree uv ])iish within half a mile. This approximation of habits between the H two kindred species, of Snipe and Woodcock, is very curious < ■ , and interesting — the fonner bird, as we have seen above, under ' certain circumstances and in peculiar districts, betaking himself ^ ^'. v to the wooded haunts of his nearest blood relation, and the lat- • \ n.i 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 reaches of perfectly open bog-meadow, and as wide expanses of open 12 ]78 FRANK FOKESTER S FIELD SPORTS. plain, covered with rich, tender grass, and interspersed at every few paces with brakes of alders, and willow bushes. The num- bers I have seen, on that ground, are incredible. In 1 839 I shot over it, accompanied by my friend, Mr. Ward, of Warwick, who then weighed above three hundred pounds, and shot with a single-barrelled Westley Richard's gun ; and, in three succes- sive days, we bagged fifty-seven, seventy-nine and ninety-eight Cock, over a single brace of dogs, not beginning to shoot until it was late in the morning. On the following year, with a friend from New- York, I shot on the same ground all day the first, and until noon on the second ; bagging, on the first, one hundred and twenty-five birds, and, on the second morning, seventy. The first of these days was intensely hot ; and the ground became so much foiled by running of the innumerable birds, that, although we had excellent retrievers, we lost, beyond doubt, forty or fifty birds ; and at four in the 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 which 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 within ten miles of it, and it is now oveiTun with city poachers and pot-hunters ; besides being shot incessantly by the farmers' boys and village idlers of the neighborhood, who have begun to compete with the New York vagabonds in 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 considerable 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 179 if some half-dozen or eight farmers, whose land I know, would resolutely put an end to all shooting on their premises, they could readily let the right of shooting to an association of gen- tlemen, at a price which would put a hundred dollars annually into each of their pockets. I could find the gentlemen who wtiuld give it, and be hut too glad of the opportunity ; and who, looking 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 the loafers and vagabonds, who compose the great bulk of ixiral sportsmen. I really should gi-eatly rejoice at seeing something of this sort attempted. Its effect would be most beneficial on the presei-vation of game generally throughout the United States. At the beginning of the AVoodcock season, to 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 the immediate vicinity of the large cities, there is no difficulty in finding broods enough to amuse a few leisure hours ; 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 puipose of Cock-shooting, and to make excursions some fifty or sixty miles inland for sport during the season. A due regard to truth compels me to say that such excursions have ceased to be what they were, " cwisule Flanco," when General Jackson was first President; yet farther inland there are doubtless still places to be found abounding with the tribe of Scolopax; although from the "Big Piece," and the "Little Piece," from Chatham and the " Drowned Lands," the glory of his house has, for the most part, departed. In July, then, there is ordinarily but little skill to be dis- played in the mere act of finding the birds, for there is nothing to be done but to beat the ground carefully, thoroughly and slowly, wherever there is water and covert. Unless the brood of the sensoii lias been annihilated already, or the gi-ound &-.» 180 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. pei-secuted in past seasons as to have been entirely deserted by the breeders, here they must be found. In this country Woodcock are shot altogether over Setters or Pointers — during the whole sixteen years, which I have passed in the States, I have known but two sportsmen who used the Cocking Spaniel, though that is unquestionably the proper dog over which to shoot 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 open — the wide, waving, heathery moors, the grassy Snipe-bog, the rich russet stubbles, from which the hai-vests have been garnered to the farmer's heart-content. To range 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 jjursuit 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, arid the closest possible quartering 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 light. He must be prepared to back his fellow, oftcner at the word " Toho!" tlian at sight of his point; for so difficult is the covert in which his duty is done, that 1 have more than once seen three several dogs standing within a square of six yards, on (me bird, not one of which suspected his comrade's jiresence. Again, he must be broke to drop where he is when tlie shot is discliarged, instantaneously, and to lie there until conimauded to " Seek dead ;" when he must draw up to the killed hird, point it, and at the word " Fetch," perform the duty of a retriever. Tliis it is, which makes a really fine, and thoroughly broke, AVoodcoclc 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- ]iice or covert I ever have seen in England, was open-work, and that too, when every tree, plant and shrub is covered Avith 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 motion 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 tlie day in looking for them. Another great difficulty in summer Cock-shooting, over Setters, is this, tliat 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, unless you do so unsports- manlike a thing as to hie your dog on, and make him 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 proceeding, 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 fi2 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. kept down by painful instruction, and will dash in and flush their game. AVTien 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 hard in summer, and a word or two, more or less, will not flush 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 myself Having always kept dogs, and ha%4ng 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 the 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, crippled, or killed birds, rather than do a wrong thing themselves 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 probability, fifty UPLAND SHOOTING. 183 birds, — by your setter getting into the way of dashing into the midst of scattered bevies, and flushing them all, one by one, while you are standing with your unloaded gun in your hand, 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 be 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 flog the unhappy quadrupeds for the faults of the stupid biped. While speaking on this subject, I will quote an obsen'ation ^^•lli^•ll I met with the other day, in a capital book, by a right good sportsman, entitled — the book, not the man — " The Moor and the Loch." The truth and force of the remark struck 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 speaking of " the inveterate habit, contracted through bad breaking, of running in when the bird drops. This trick is acquired from the breaker's carelessness, in not always making the dog fall down when birds rise, a mle 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 steadiness of a dog," he proceeds, "whether old or young, depend,^ entirely upon its leing rigidly observed. I ' have seen dogs most unmercifully flogged, and yet bolt with the same eagerness every shot. It is easy to see the reason ; the dog 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 rushes fonvard, never to stir, — coolly allow him to tear away at the game uutil you have loaded ; by which time he 184 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. 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 firedf all the time giving him hearty shakes" — /should say, cuts with the whip, — " and crying ' down,' when you get to the spot where you shot from, take out your whip, and between the stripes call ' down,' 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 his 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 obsei-ved, is here speaking of running in to eat or tear, not to "fetch'" 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 sui-prised at learning two things, — that Setters, or Point- ers, were invariably broke to "ye^c/i," or retrieve dead birds; and that they were always taught to " come in" before charg- ing. I was exceedingly incredulous 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 i- UPLAND SHOOTING. • 185 18 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 doiuu-. i^ut ho must invariably be made, Ti^t 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 nish 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 passably 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 observe 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 tliey may guide themselves hi their own conduct toward the animal thei-eby, 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 hefore buying them. Another thing is worthy of observation — a dog never ought to be lent. I would not lend my dog to a hetter 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 does, nor worse. It is impossi- ble to imagine the difference of the intelligence of two dogs, 186 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. equally good by nature, tlie one of which has never been hunted but by one master, and the other by every one v^^hom 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 summer Woodcock shooting, above any other phase of the sport, an implicit obedience, great steadiness, and perfect staunchness is required in the dog. In Q,uail, or Snipe-shooting, you can see your dog the greater part of the time ; you can obsei-ve his every motion ; and can usually, if you are 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 see him strike his trail, draw on it, become surer, and stand stiff. You lose him for a moment, look for him, where he ought to he, and find him because he is there, pointing as you expected. A step or two forward, wdth 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 the 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 with your foot, or tap the bunch of cat-briars with your gun-muzzle, 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 dovra a shower of green leaves, and UPLAND SHOOTING. 187 among them you fancy that you have seen an indistinct some- thing faUing helplessly earthward — that you have heard the thud of his tumble on the moist ground. Nevertheless, anxious although you be, and doubtful of your own success, you stir not from 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 watei'-grass, with his nose ])ressed into the very., earth between his paws. You drop your butt upon tho toe of your boot, if the ground be very wet, and begin to load, rapidly, yet coolly and delibe- rately. Yes ! you have killetl him ; you may see the feathers floating yonder, in the still murky air of the windless swamp. You half-cock your locks, and apply 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, he 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 him to you without ruffling a feather. How conscious, how happy, how 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 seiTe 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 art 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 ; 188 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. such as I trust I may have many, before this year has donned the sear of the leaf, which is not as yet green. Jesting apart, this is the way to do it, both as regards the flushing and shooting the bird, and the management of the dog ; and, with respect to the last, I have only to add, that while it is impossible to be too resolute, too firm, and almost impossible to be too strict, if not severe, it is also impossible to be too patient, too deliberate, or too quiet, 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. Remem- ber, 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 punishing, — when you do flog, flog in earnest. And this is a day's summer Cock-shooting, — a repetition 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 spirit. 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 combinations of rural scenery — in the deep, dim, secluded 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 form of animal life and beauty abounds, unbeheld of or- dinary mortals. And are not all these things a source of pleasure to the true woodsman ? Is he not necessarily a lover not of sport only, and UPLAND SHOOTING. 189 of excitement — those are the ruder and less genial attributes of his profession — but a lover of nature ] To his mere success as a sportsman, I have already shown that a knowledge of the haliits and instincts of animals is necessary ; and let a man once snt liimseli" to study tlifsc, and he has turned already the first pau(> of n ilural history; and so enticing is the study, that he perlbrcc must persevere. And none can study natural history, without loving nature. The true sportsman, the gentle sports- man, must be 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 syllables, and a counter of fingers, but a lover of all things beautiful and wild — a meditator, a muser ! He must be, as the old pastorals were, nijmpliarum fugientum ama- tor ; and to the very farthest flight of their coy footsteps must he follow them. Were it not for this, the sportsman were but a mere skilful butcher, — out upon it ! there be better things than this in our philosophy ! 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- man. And then the noonday repose beneath the canopy of some dark hemlock, or tall pine, still vocal with the same fitful mur- mur which pleasured in Arcadia the ears of old Theocritus — the dainty morsel, rendered a thousand times more savory than your city banquets, by the true Spartan sauce of hunger, the cool draught 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 fumes of the composing cigar, — or, if need be, the camping out in the wild woods, the plying of the axe to form the temporary shanty, the kindling of the merry blaze, the rude yet appetizing 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 100 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. couch, lulled by the murmur of the wind in the never-silent tree tops, by the far plash of falling waters, by the plaintive wailino- of the whip-poor-will, and the joyous revelry of the dew- drinkino- katydids — the sleep, under the blue vault of the skies, o-uarded by the winking eyes of the watchful planets only, — sweeter and sounder, lighter and more luxurious, than princes catch 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, jocund, 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, whiiTing up with a flut- 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 shar]! 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, skirring away zig-zag over the rushy letel. 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. riPLAND SHOOTING. 191 And with this ends all that is to be said on summer Wood- cock sti()()tiiii4 ; for tlie period duriii<,f which the sport can be followed is of itself brief, not lastintr — at the utmost not above a month from its commencement to its termination, by the disap- pearance of the birds from their usual haunts in this section of the country. This disappearance of the bird is one of the most mysterious and inexplicable Matures in the natural history of the Wood- cock ; and what is very remarkable, it is not in any wise no- ticed or alluded to by any naturalist with whose works I am acquainted. Neither Audubon nor Wilson appear cognizant of the fact, both speaking of the Woodcock, as if it tarried with us regularly from its arrival early in February, until its depar- ture 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 of 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 are fuH-growni, the Woodcock withdraws for the pui-pose of moulting, and retunis no more until the autumnal frosts have set fairly in, until the meadow grass is crisp, and the leaves sear. A few 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, niid these only, it is probable, in consequence of some ac- cidental circumstance which has detained them, such as the late- ness of their last brood, or perhaps an unduly early moult on their own part, compelling them to remain tranquil, while their 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 I was in the habit of passing my summers in that immediate 192 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. vicinity, and had beat the very ground on which I have subse- quently killed hundreds, without getting above half-a dozen shots. It is in the last week of July, or the first of August, that tliis disappearance of the Cock, whether from the hill-swales, the larger valleys, or the level meadows, takes place ; and after this until the first week in October, it is useless to hunt for them. A few birds can, it is true, at all times be procured, enough to furnish a dainty for a sick friend, or perhaps at a hard pinch to try a dog ; but certainly not enough to render it agreeable, or worth the while to go out in pursuit of them. Another fact, going to prove that there is an absolute disap- pearance or emigration of the bird, at fhis season, is that on their return, they come in successive flights, tarrying each a longer or shorter time, according to the circumstances of the weather, and then passing onward. This is, I think, conclusive. When first I began to sport in this country, some sixteen years ago, there were two theories current among sportsmen, whereby to account for the fact, that in woods, where the birds swarmed in July, they were hardly 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 ground ; 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, does give out as much scent, is pointed aS readily by dogs, does rise as willingly before the point, and is as good upon the table as at any other season. Facts, which are easily proved ; siiice, although the great mass of birds withdraw during August, and do not return before October, a few do still tarry in their old swamps, and may be found and shot, though so few in number, and at so great an expense of time and UPLAND SHOOTING. 193 labor, as to render the pursuit of them toilsome, and productive only of weariness and disappointment. I have, however, killed them repeatedly, while endeavoring to satisfy myself of the facts which I now assert, so deep in the moult that their bodies have been almost naked, and that they have fluttered up feebly, and with a heavy whirrintr, on wings divested of one-half the quill feathers ; and, in that state, I have observed that the dogs stood as staunchly, and at as great a distance from their game, as usual ; and that the birds took wing as freely, though, in truth, half impotent to fly. Beyond this, it is scarce necessary to point out to an intelli- gent reader, that if the birds still lay in swarms on their old ground, however scentless, they must, when that ground is hunted closely by true-beating and industrious dogs, l)e either run up, or turned out of the grass, and caught in the mouth sometimes ; Avhich I have never known to happen in all my experience of the field. The other theory was this, which I have heard insisted on as strenuously as the former, " That the Woodcock, on beginning to moult, betakes himself to the maize or Indian corn fields, and remains there unsuspected until the crops have been hous- ed, and the cold weather has set in." That a few scattered Woodcock may be found in wet, low maize-fields, along the edge of woods, is true ; and it is true, also, that they feed in such situations in great numbers, during the night, previous to their removal ; but that they are ever to be found generally, or for any number of consecutive days or weeks in such ground, is an utterly incorrect surmise, disproved by long experience. I have applied myself carefully to the investigation of this circumstance ; and in the last ten years, have certainly beaten a thousand maize-fields thoroughly, with a brace of as good Set- ters as any private gentleman possessed, at the very period when fanners would tell me " they were as thick as fowls in the corn-fields ; " and I have not on any occasion flushed more tlian three birds, in any one field ; nor have I killed twenty-five on such ground altogether. ^ 13 'I9'4 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. Somewhat, I must confess, to my surprise, I have observed within the last fevv^ weeks, a long and somewhat elaborate article, in the columns of that admirable journal, the New- York Spiiit of the Times, the writer of which apparently quite 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 about. 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 that 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 square 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 ? What does become of them ]" To which sage questions it is, 1 grieve to say, my fate to be unable to make satisfactory reply. I was foiTnerly inclined to believe, that when the moult is at hand, the Woodcock withdraws to the 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, the Woodcock, whether found singly in a solitaiy place, 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. 195 lands of the Hudson, with the intent of showing the fine view thence to a city friend, he found the l)rushwood on the barren and rocky ledges, and even on the crown of the hill, literally alive with Woodcock. This occurred, according to his state- ment, in the beginning of September, when no birds were to be found in the level and wet woods below. He farther stated, that he at first intended to revisi' the hill the n(!xt 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 I'eward 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 have been inclined to believe any fact he stated, where I could see no interest, on his part, which should lead him to attempt deception. In this case there was no such reason ; not even the desire of prevailing in argument, for we were not arguing. I cannot, therefore, well doubt the correctness of his information. If truly stated, as I believe it to have been, 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, while deer-stalking, in August and September, though not in numbers which would justify the belief in a general migration en masse to such localities. If, however, my half-formed opinion — for it is no more — be con-ect, the birds are dispersed at this peiiod of the year, and arc 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 beat of the weather — or, it may be, by the temporary exhaustion of food on their favorite grounds, they move farther northward as does the English Snipe, yet earher in the season, not to 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, the Snipe — with this difference, that the Snipe rarely breeds with us, going northward to nidificate, while his fellow-emigrant, our ScolojMX, invariably rears his young before going farther toward the frosts of the northern pole. Of these suggestions my readers must judge whether is the better of the two ; one of the two I believe to be the only way for accounting for the Woodcock's short disappearance at this season. For the rest, as I leaned at first to the foiTuer, so do I now rather incline toward the latter belief, facts not bear- ing out the former to 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 question is yearly becom- ing, in these districts, more difficult of solution ; 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 undistinguishable. 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 haunts 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 I" Oh ! ye choice spirits, who stood forth, after the long, hard UPLAND SHOOTING. 197 winter and deep snow-drifts Quail-destroying of 1836, to rescue that delightful little fowl from total extinction, stand forth in likewise now, in protection of the Woodcock. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof Railroads are ruining the hopes — the pleasures of the sportsman ; our best shooting grounds now swar i , on the fir-;t of July, with guns more numerous than hirds; tlit^ AN'arwick woodlands, once inaccessible to the pot- hunter and the poacher, may now be reached for fifty cents ; may now be swept clear in a single day ; nay, are swept clear of half-fledged younglings, by men, boys, and bunglei-s, and ruthlessly devoured before the season has set in, by ignorant voracious cockneys. Reform it altogether !' Enact that the Woodcock shall not be slain — shall not be possessed — as Mr. Blunt 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 shall we have in brown Octo- ber, when the sere underbrush is bare of leaves to mar the sportsman's aim ; when the cool dewy earth sends up the odor of the game in fresh steams to the Setter's keen and sagacious nose ; when the pure air braces the nerves and fans the brow, delicious ; when the full-grown, white-fronted, pink-legged Cock springs up — not fluttering feebly now, and staggering stupidly into the muzzle of the gun, to drop again within twenty yarthi, but on a vigorous and whistling pinion, wi.h sharp-piping alarm note, swift as a rifle-bullet, 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 happily wea- ried down icithout one ! Him can no German gun achieve, of cast-iron, scattering its shot over an area of twenty feet, harm- J.08. FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. less at twenty yards ! Him can no cur-dog flush in gun-shot of pot-hunting poucher. No ! gentle reader, him, whether he hes in the tufted fern and wintergreens, or the dry slope of some waiTn, westering hill- side, among second-growth of brown oak and chestnut; whether he wades among the shallow mud-pools, sheltered by fern, dock-leaves, and dark colt's-foot, of some deep maple swamp, it needs the stealthy pace, the slow, 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, and stand staunchly ! Him, whether he flap up, seen for one second only, among the leafless stems, and lost the next among the tufted tops of the yet verdant alders ; whether he soar away, with his sharp whistle, far, far above the red and yellow tree tops ; 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 averred truly — is bom 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 thud, 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 noble pastime — 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 pui-poses — 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 fiiends of sports- manship throughout the land, to this most interesting subject. Certain it is that the Woodcock returns, whether old or young, to the same place where he was bred and where he has reared his UPLAND SHOOTING. 199 young, if unmolested. If persecuted and sliot off, year after year, on liis very breeding ground, and while he was in the very act of breeding, he will desert that ground altogelher. Of this, I have seen proof positive. In the immediate vicinity ol Warwick, in Orange county, within two miles of the village, there are twenty little woods and swamps, each of which used ten or twe'.ve 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 that time no one else shot in that region — killed off" the whole summer stock, clean. The consequence was, that long before the general shooting of the district was affected 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 less 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 killing them in spring is as yet something less crying, and the diminution of their numbers less palpable, I had the honor to lay a diaft of a petition to the New- York legislature on this subject, before the New-York Sportsman's Club in the course of last winter — 1846-7 — 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 present. I am still myself satisfied, that the measure therein proposed, or some other nearly akin to it, is the last and only hope lefl to sportsmen of preserving any kind of game, but especially Woodcock, among us. The domestic habits of the Quail, his haunting homesteads, and becoming to some degree a pet of the farmer, and yet ZQI^ FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. more, his indigenousness to the land, acts in a considerable degree as a protection to him. But the Woodcock, who is a mere emigrant, here to-day and away to-monow, has no domestic friend, no landlord to protect him, and men forget that if spared, he will as surely return to breed in the same wood acain, 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 spring. My game law, such 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 concoct one better either 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 thing needful ; and that cannot be attained if every man holds out resolutely for his own crotchet. Let the pr nciple once be affirmed and made good, and the details are of infinitely minor importance. They will follow. For the rest, wha' is to be done, must be done quickly, or we shall be liable to the ridicule which falls on the tardy /a'nca7if who locks his stable door 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. CPLAND SHOOTING. 201 UPLAND PLOVER SHOOTING. TTH the end of July, all that can properly be called shooting, as a gen- uine sport, is at an end. The AVood- cock, as I have already stated, is no longer to be found, whether he be lying perdu on the mountain tops, or t)ff' on a wilder wing for the far north. The Snipe has not yet begun to re- turn from his arctic breeding places ; the Quail is still busy with her eggs, or her fledgling cheepers; and the Ruffed Grouse, although her young are already two-thirds grown, id protected by the game-laws until the first day of November. This last protection by 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 of thems(-l\c-;. 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, rasores, with which I am acquainted, keep together in broods oi coveys until the commencement of the next breeding season ; but se])arate altogether, and ramble about either as single indi- viduals, or in small parties, during the autumn and winter. 20'^* FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTfc. Ailer ihis separation lias once taken place, the birds, both young and old, are so wild that they will rarely or never lie to be pointed by a dog, unless they are found by chance in some very dense brake or grass-grown thicket, in which they cannot run ; and consequently there is no chance of having any sport with them, after they have once ceased to keep company. This, I think, they invariably do, before the law permits that they should be shot. Consequently, although I have often been in regions where they abound, I have never found it worth the while to go out to hunt for them especially. They are a bird of a very rambling disposition, here to-day and miles off to- morrow, frequenting 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 sure of getting a dozen shots over points, or even half that number, in a day's hard walking. Add to this, that if the Ruffed Grouse be the particular object of pursuit, there is no chance of finding any other species 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 afford 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 joui-neys UPLAND SHOOTING. 203 fi)r the especial purpose of gcttinjr this sport in perfection. If the law authorized the shooting them in September, or at the latest on tlie first of October, there are many districts of the country, wliere tlie Ruflied Grouse would aftbrd great sport to tliose, wlio wouhl take the trouble to pursue them into their fastnesses, which requires considerable strength and activity. In the meantime, however, while there is no legitimate upland shooting to be had — by legitimate, I mean that, which is followed with dogs, whether Setter, Pointer or Spaniel, in a legitimate and scientific manner — there comes into play, at the very critical moment, the " Bartramian Sandpiper," better known as the "Upland Plover" — " Grass Plover" — "Field Plo- ver," or " Frost Bird" — which as far as a Ijonne bouche for tlie epicure goes, is inferior in my judgment to no bird that flies, unless it be the Canvass-Back ; and there, w^ith the Chancellor, / douht ! As a game-bird, and object of pursuit, I do not my- self care about him, the modus operandi does not suit my book, or entertain me ; nevertheless, there is much skill displayed in circumventing, or as Major Docherty would say, surrounding this wily bird, and as frequently a very large number may be lirought to the bag, it is with some persons a very favorite sport. This bird, which by the way is not a Plover, though very nearly allied to that species, is stated by Mr. Aububon to arrive in the Middle States, early in May, to reach INIaine by the mid- dle of that month, to breed from INIaryland northward to the Sashatchewan, and to winter in Texas and Mexico. It is shot, in the Eastern and INIiddle States, from Massachu- setts to Pennsylvania, during the months of August and September, and in fact, until it is driven southward by the frosts ; although it is worthy of remark, that it is also killed abundantly so far south as the neighborhood of Charleston, S. C, as early as the middle of July. The great majority of the birds shot in these districts is certainly not composed of those only which are bred here ; but is continually swelled by flocks coming down successively from the north-eastward, where I 204 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. imagine they breed, in far gi-eater quantities than within the confines of the States. On their arrival here they frequent, wherever such exist, wide, upland downs or moors, covered with short, close turf; and are found in greater numbers in Rhode Island, in the vicinity of Newport, than in any other district with which I am ac- quainted ; although from the aspect of the country, the nature of the soil, and the quality of the grass lands, I cannot doubt but that they must exist abundantly along the Atlantic coasts of the State of Maine. Comparatively speaking, there are few sports- men in that region, as is the case in all new countries, where men hunt for profit or for provision, not for sport, and where the pursuit of the larger animals is so common and so well rewarded, as to render the shooting of birds on the wing rare, and in the eyes of the community rather ridiculous. The con- sequence of this is, that the capabilities of the country in a sporting view, are unknown ; and the species of game, to be found in it, almost certainly lost to the sporting world. In June, 1840, I saw several of these birds, with 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 that region. The Field Plover is abundant in the Boston markets during the season ; and I believe they are sufficiently common to afford amusement to the sportsmen of that country, though I am not aware in what parts of the State they are most frequent. On the plains in the vicinity of Hempstead, Long Island, they used to abound ; and they still frequent that country, although not nearly so numerous as they were some years since. In New .Tersey 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 sheep-walks, but rocky and wooded fastnesses, equally unfit for this Sandpiper's abode. UPLAND SHOOTING. 205 Where vast unenclosed plains are not to be found, this bird loves to haunt large hill pastures, iallow-fields, and newly pl()Ufj;-hi>d grounds, when- it finds llu- viirious kinds of insect food to wliicli it is so partial, — grasslioppcis, In-t'lles, and all the small coleopterous flies common to such localities, in the grass lands — and worms, small snails, and tlic like, on the lii'lows. The (Upland Plover is a shy an.l timid l.ird ; and, on li.ot, it is, for the most part, nearly impossilile to approach it. It feeds on ground such as I have described, in small com])anies — they cannot be called flocks, for they do not usually act in concert, or fly together, rising, if they are startled, one by oiu^, and each taking its own course, without heeding its companions — tliis, by the way, 1 have noticed as a peculiarity of all tht; ujdaiid scolo- pac'ulip, none of which fly, so far as I have ever obsen^ed, in large bodies, wheeling and turning simultaneously, at a signal, as is the practice, more or less, of all the maritime Sandpipers, Tattlers, Plovers, and Phalaropes. While running swiftly over the surface of the ground, they utter a very peculiar and plain- tive whistle, exceedingly mellow and musical, which has the remarkable quality of appearing to be sounded close at hand, when it is in reality uttered at a very considerable distance. It is this note which frequently gives the first notice to the sports- man, that he is in the vicinity of the bird ; and it also gives him notice that the bird is aware of him, and out of his reach ; for no sooner is it uttered, than the Sandjjiper either takes wing at once, or I'uns very rapidly to some distance, and then rising, sweeps round and round in aerial circles, and alights again out of distance. If wing-tipped, or slightly wounded, it runs so ra- pidly as to set pursuit at defiance, and then squats behind some clod of earth, or tuft of grass, to the colors of which its beauti- fully mottled plumage so nearly assimilates it, that it cannot be distinguished, without great difficulty, among the leaves and herbage. I have only shot this Sandpiper myself, on a tract of upland pasture and ploughed land near to Bristol, in Pennsylvania, known as " Livingston Manor," where I found the birds very 206 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. plentiful, and in excellent condition, during the month of August, in the year 1844. The country being closely enclosed with stout timber fences, it is impracticable either to drive up to them in a two-wheeled carriage, which is by far the prefera- ble mode of pursuing them, or to stalk them on horseback ; although I am of opinion that great sport might be had there Avith a pony that could fence well, and stand fire steadily. The men who shoot them for the market there, build bough-houses, in which to lie hid, or conceal themselves in the corners of maize-fields, or behind any casual hiding-places the countiy may offer, while their companions scatter about the fields, driv- ing the birds to and fro, and rendering them, of course, exceed- ingly wild ; yet a considerable number are shot thus, as they fly over their concealed enemies. This mode of proceeding is, of course, unendurable to the sportsman. By the aid of Eley's wire cartridges, red and blue, of No. 6 shot, however, I con- trived to get moderately good sport, walking about in pursuit of them, and taking my chance at those driven over me by other parties. I, one day, bagged sixteen birds thus ; but it would have been a hundred to one against getting a single Sandpiper, with loose shot ; as I am certain that not one bird fell within fifty yards of me. This Sandpiper flies very swiftly, and when on the wing shews like a very large bird, owing to the great length of its shai-p-pointed wings. At first sight, you would suppose it to be as large as a pigeon, although its body is not, in truth, very much larger than that of the common Snipe, or intermediate be- tween that and the Woodcock, while the extent of its wings from tip to tip exceed either of these, by nearly one-fourth. Like many other species of wild birds, this Sandpiper is ex- tremely cunning, and appears to be able to calculate the range of a fowling-piece with great nicety ; and you will constantly find them sitting perfectly at their ease, until a few paces more would bring you within shot of them, and then rising, with their provoking whistle, just when you believe yourself sure of getting a crack at them. In the same manner they will circle UPLAND SHOOTING. 207 round you, or fly past you, just out of gunshot, tempting you all the tiint- with hopes that will still prove false, unless you have some such device as Eley's cartridges, by which to tuni the shrewduc^ss of this cunniiig little schemer to its own destruc- tion. In Rhode Island, where alone the sport is now pursued sys- tematically, the mode achipted is this, — the shooter, accompa- nied by a skilful driver, on whom, by the way, the whole onus of the business rests, and to whom all the merit of success, if attained, is attributable, is mounted in what is termed in New England a chaise, that is to say, an old-fashioned gig with a top. In this convenience, he kneels down, with his left leg out of the carriage, and his foot firmly planted on the step, holding his gun ready to shoot at an instant's notice. The driver, perceiv- ing the birds, as they are running and feeding on the open sur- face, selects one, according to his judgment, and drives round it rapidly in concentric circles, until he gets within gunshot of it, and perceives by its motions that it will not pennit a nearer ap- proach. He then makes a short half turn from it, pulling the horse short up, at the same instant ; and at that very same in- stant, for the Sandpiper rises invariably at the moment in which the chaise stops, the shooter steps out lightly to the ground, and kills his bird, before it has got well upon the wing. In the timimx of all this various work, on the part of the driver and the •Tunnci-, tliere is a good deal of skill requisite, and, of couj-se, a good deal of excitement. But the real sport, and the real skill, are both on tlie part of the driviM-, whose duty it is to deliver }iis marksman as nearly as possible to the game, yet never to run the thing so close, as to allow the Sandpiper to take wing before he has pulled up. The difference in the judgment and skill of drivers is immense ; and there is one gentleman in New York, n well-known, and old friend of the public, who is said to be so infinitely superior to all others, that the gun in his chaise, even if it be handled by the inferior shot, is sure to come off the winner. It is not unusual, I am told, to bag from twenty to twenty-five couple of these delicious birds in a day's sport, 208 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. in this manner, and I have heard of infinitely greater quantities being brought to bag. The record of some almost incredible number, killed by three guns, was published last year in the Spirit of the Times, and by well-known sportsmen ; but I have never tried the sport myself, and cannot therefore speak to it. I am told, it is vastly exciting and amusing, — but I have been told the same thing about lying flat on your back in a battery, off Fire-island Inlet — and I can only say, judging from analogy, that it may be very well for once or twice, or to kill a few hours when there is no other sport to be had, but that it must be awfully slow work, as compared with any sort of field shooting, on which the instinct and intelligence of dogs can be brought to bear. To see them work is, I think, more than half the battle. After all, any shooting — except shooting sitting — is better than no shooting ; and I have no doubt, if I were at Rhode Island, in the proper season, I should be found chaisivg it, as eagerly as any body else. I am sure I do not know why I should not, since older, and I dare say, better sportsmen than myself swear by it. This, then, is the connecting link between the autumn and spring shooting of the Uplands. For those who like them. Bay shooting, at all the varieties of Plovers, Sandpipers, Tattlers, Phalaropes, and Curlews, known along shore as " Bay Snipe," is to be had, in full force, everywhere from Cape Cod, or fur iher eastward, to Cape May, during the months of July, August, and September; and, in the end of August, Rail shooting com- mences on the Delaware and adjacent rivers; but of these I shall treat in their places, — since the former must be regarded as Coast shooting, and the latter cannot be classed with Upland sport, although it is only pursued inland. With Plover shooting, therefore, the sports of the summer months end; and, with the month of October, the jolliest, hear- tiest month of the whole year, despite of what Mr. Bryant says of "the melancholy days" of autumn, the real season has its commencement ; and thereafter the woodlands, the stubbles, and the mountain's-brow, are the true '^'^ort^Tmn's Paradise. UPLAND SIIOOTI.N'G. 209 AUTUMN COCK SHOOTING. UTUMN shooting, vvliicli is i^ar excellence the ti-ue spoit of the true sportsman — cannot be said to have its beginning on any particular day, or even in any particular month of the season. Its commencement is regulated by the return of the Wocul- cock, after its brief August migration ; and, the peiiod of that return being uncertain, and dependant on the state of the wea- ther, and other influences, with which we ai'e not fully ac- quainted, the sportsman has only to bide his time, and take the season as he finds it. In truth, the variation of the autumnal season is in this res- pect very great, as regards both the Woodcock and the Snipe. 1 have shot both of these birds together, in considerable num- bers, on the same ground, so early as the 12th or 15th of Sep- tember ; and again, in other seasons, neither the one nor the other bii'd have made their appearance until so late as the mid- dle of October. As a general rule, however, I should say that Woodcock be- gin to return to the Atlantic States, in ordinary seasons, about the middle of September, and the Snipe about the first of Octo- 210 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. ber, — the latter bird being for the most part a few days behind his congener. It is very well worthy of remark, both by the sportsman and the scientific ornithologist, that on their return in the autumn, neither the Woodcock nor the Snipe are found precisely on the same ground, which they use in spring ; and I am inclined to believe, that a more thorough investigation of this fact, might lead to the acquisition of more knowledge than we possess at present, concerning the causes of the migration of our various birds of passage. In my articles on spring Snipe, and summer Cock shooting, I have observed that at these seasons the two birds frequently appear to change their habits and haunts mutually ; the former being very often found in low brushwood, and among dense briar patches, and the latter, even more commonly, on open, rushy, water meadows, without a bush or particle of covert in the vicinity. In no respect does this ever happen in the autumn. I have seen no instance myself, nor have I heard of any from the most constant and legular country sportsman, who have the best op portunity of noting such peculiai'ities, of the Snipe ever resort- ing even to the thinnest covert on wood-edges, much less to dense coppices and tall woodlands, in the autumn. Nor have T ever seen a Woodcock on open meadow in that season. In Salem county, in New Jersey, this latter fact is A^ery strongly demonstrated ; inasmuch as during the summer the birds are hunted entirely, and four-fifths of them killed, on what would elsewhere be called regular Snipe ground, or in small brakes along the dykes and river margins ; and there is no finer summer Cock ground than this county, in the whole State. In the autumn, on the contrary, when the bird seeks otlier lo- calities, there is little or no covert, such as he loves, to be found in Salem, and of consequence, there is little or no autumn Cock shooting to be had in the southern district of New Jersey. The Snipe, on his arrival, betakes himself at once to the same ranges of country, and the same meadows, as in the spring ; UPLAND SHOOTING. 211 and, with tlie sole exception that it is entirely useless to look for him in coppices, or along springy wootlsides, as I have re- coninieiidod in wild weather in spring, his haunts and habits nil' precisely the same. He is more settled, not being now hurried in point of time, or busied about the pleasures of courtship, or the cares of nidi- fication. He lies harder before the dog, does not fly so far when flushed, and feels little or no inclination to ramble about, but adheres steadily to one feeding ground, unless driven away from it by persecution, until the hard frosts of winter compel him to betake himself to the rice-fields of Georgia, and the muddy margins of the warm savannah. Moreover, the weather itself being at this time steadier, and less mutable, the birds are much less often forced to move from one part of the country to another, by the fitness or unfitness of the ground. In spring one year the meadows are too wet, and anotlier perhaps too dry, — both conditions being at times car- ried to such an excess, as to drive the birds off" altogether, from the impossibility of feeding or lying comfortably. In the autumn this is rarely, if ever, the case ; and although autumn shooting is, of course, in some degree variable — Snipe being more abun- dant one year than another — it never has occurred, within my obsenation, that the flight passes on altogether without pausing, or giving some chance of sport, more or less, as is not very un- usually the consequence of a series of droughts or rains in the spring. The Woodcock, on his return from the northward, or his des- ^', I A, ft.. cent from the mnmtain-tops, nevei', as a general rule, returns precisely to the same feeding grounds which he prefers in sum- mer, during the extreme heats, but appears to prefer dry hill- ^p-ct-t^e) < sides, sloping to the sun, southerly or westward, and to choose - /■ »• woods of young saplings, or sprouts, as they are commonly called in tliis country, tall, wet maple groves, and second growth of oak, adjacent to brook or meadow feeding groundjs, rather than the dense coppice, and that variety of brakes and in- tervales, or glades, which he loves the best in July. Thispecu- ^/o. 212 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. liantv renders him a more agi-eeable object of pursuit at this iDeriod of the year, tlie rather that he is now found often in company with bevies of Quail, and that almost invariably the latter bird, when flushed in the stubbles where he feeds, flies for shelter to the very covert most haunted by the Woodcock. 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 ground, not interspersed with the ferny hill-sides, overgrown with 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 the case, the sportsman may note this dis- tinction, that whereas in summer, when he has once killed off" clean the whole of the one, two, or three broods, which frequent a small piece of coppice, or swamp thicket, it will be utterly useless for him to beat it again, he may now, day after day, kill every bird 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 up, there is a small, dry, thorny brake, with a few tall trees on it, lying on a sort of island, surrounded by a very wet bog meadow, and half encir- cled by a muddy streamlet, overhung with thick alders, the whole aflair, brake, meadow, and all, not exceeding three or four acres. I knew the place of old as a ceitain summer-find for a single brood of Cock. In October, on the first day of my visit to the country, I beat this brake, at throwing off" in the morning, and bagged eleven fine fall birds — being four or five more than I expected — two birds went away wild without being shot at, 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 would try to get the two survivors, and was much and most agreeably surprised at bagging nine birds, all that were flushed, on the spot. UPLAND SHOOTING. 213 Being quite certain tliat tliese were new comers, and the brake being a very pretty and easy place in which to get shots, and mark liirds, T beat it regularly, either going out, or coming home, every day during my stay in the country, and bagged upon it, in all, sixty-three birds in six successive days. Tills is now very many years ago, but I noted the tact from its singularity at the time ; and I have since obsen'ed, that in 'certain highly favored places, this may be regularly looked for ; and I wou'd never recommend a sportsman, shooting late in the autumn, particularly after the nights hare begun to be frosty, to decliin' trying a likely piece of ground, a second, or even a tliird or fourth time, because he has already swept it clear of W'oodcoek. It does not, of course, follow of all ground whatso- ever ; liut ol' all that ground which is the most beloved by the hir.^ ■ii'.-j 6^ nuu-i uU.^ Cu-u 220 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. ETirrlish nomenclature by giving him a scientific title directly analogous to Quail, and not to Partridge. I should as soon think myself of calling the bird a Turkey as a Partridge, and I shall ever hold that the question is entirely set at rest, and that the true 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 subject, I may obsei-ve — 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 T 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 the breeding season, he alone, of the gallinaceous tribe, makes wood and mead resound with his shrill, merry whistle, whence our country folk have framed to him a name Boh - White, from some fancied similarity of sound, cheering his faithful partner during the toils of incu- bation. Afterward, when the bevies are collected, as he runs from the huddle in which he has passed the night, he salutes his brethren, perhaps thanks his Creator, for the pleasant dawn, with the most cheerfid noise that can be fancied, a short, quick, happy cheeping, " and seems to be," to boiTow the words of the inimitable Audubon, I quote from memory alone, "the happiest little creature in the universe." UPLAND SHOOTING. 221 The Quail is not only the most sociable of his tribe in refer- ence to his fellows, but is by far the most tameable and frieudly in his disposition as nv'^;inls the general enemy and nniversid tyrant, man. In till" winter season, when the ground is so deeply covered with siniw as tn render it impossible for them to obtain their custoiiKiiy food, the seeds namely of the various grasses, which they love the most, or the grains wliicli lie scattered in tlu; stub- bles, they come naturally into the vicinity of man's dwellings; and it is by no means an unusual siglit to perceive them run- ning about among the domestic fowls in the barn-yard, and flying up, if suddeidy disturbr'd, to perch under the rafters of some liarn or out-house, seemingly 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 I 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 they 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 coverimj ; 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, rushy meadows, where the conformation of the country affords them such retirement, among the tussocks of which they love to bask in the spring sunshine. Where the land lies higher, and is broken into knolls and gulleys, you will find them at this season on the gi'assy banks beside some shel- 222 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS, tered hedge-row, or along the green and shrubby margin of some sequestered streamlet ; but never in thick woodlands, and rarely in open fields. Most birds, so soon as they have paired, proceed at once to 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 pairs 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. Thi'ir nest is inartificial, made of grasses, and situate for the most part under the shelter of a stump or tussock in some wild 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 constantly 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 asceitain, 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 extraordinary rapidity, when the seasons ;.re propitious. It is, however UPLAND SHOOTING. 233 equally certain that, under other circumstances, they suffer more severely in this rcgii^n of country, than any other bird lA' game ; and that in untiivorable seas(nis they run great danger ol being altogether annihilated. The tear of this result has led to what I consider hasty and inconsiderate legislation on the subject. Long severe snows, when the country is buried many feet deep, and he can procure nn 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, stilles him, in whole bevies encased in icy prison- houses. It is the peculiar habit of this bini to lie still, Sfjuatted in con- centrir 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 tall. So soon as it ch'ars off", and the sun shines out, with a simultaneous effort, ])robably at a preconcerted signal, they all spring up at once with an impetus and rush, so powerful, as carries them clear through a snow-drit't many feet in depth ; unless it be skinned over by a frozen crust, whicli is not to be penetrated by their utmost eff'orts. 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 have been found in aliundance ; and at such times, if they be not spared and ch.erished, 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 1S35-'3G, when these birds, which had been previously very abundant, were almost annihi- lated ; and would have been so, doubtless, but for the anxiety which was felt generally, and the energetic means which were taken to presei-\'e them. A 1 > her peril, whicli at times decimates the breed f )r a sea- son, i- a sudden and violent land-flood in June and .July, which drowns the young broods ; or a continuance of cold, showery, 224 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. weather, in those and the preceding months, which addles the eo-trs, and destroys the early bevy. This is, however, but a par- tial evil, — as the Quail rears a second brood, and, as 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 beautiful 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 preserve 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 merry daybreak cheeping ; and, each one running toward the sound, and repeating it at inter- vals, they soon collect themselves 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. If. however, the ruthless sportsman has been among them, UPLAND SHOOTING. 225 with his well-trained Setter and unerring gun, so that death has sorely thinned their numbers, they will protract their little call for their lost comrades, even to night-lall ; 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 whi.stle. Once this struck me especially. I had found a small bevy of thirteen birds in an orchard, close to the hcnise in which 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 light and left, flew J I y^av but a short distance, and dropped among some sumachs in the - ,. corner of a lail fence. I could have shot him certainlv enough, but some undefined feeling induced me to call my dogs to heel, ^ -^ f "^ *^\^ 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 countiy, I heard his sad call, from"-^* t ' '' i morn till dewy eve, crying for his departed friends, and fullL^f{;^_^ i apparently of memory, which is, alas ! but too often another .v name lor 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 nlxJ-cx, 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, that in spite of his apparent tameness at peculiar seasons, and his willingness to be half na- turalized, the Quail has hitheito 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 him fair game. Of all birds, in this or any other country, so far as I know 15 22G FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. from personal experience, or have heard from others more com- petent to pronounce on the subject, the Quail is the most diffi- 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 in 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 where the country 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 can 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 run 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 difficult 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 difficult 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 SIIOOTINC;. 227 This is, that under these circumstances, the birds will not rise at iV], until they arc literally almost trodden upon. It was very long- before I could hiiuL; niysi;ll" to believe in the existence of this sino^ular power of .suj)pn'ssioii ; and very many times, after liavinv; marketl down a bevy to a yard in favorable ground, and haviiiu failrd to start them, I have left the place, concluding tliat they had taken to the trees, ftr risen again unseen by me, wlieii I am satisHcd, had I waited half an hour before proceed- ing to heat lor tliem, 1 might have had good sport. I will here observe, tliat although Quail do, beyond doubt, occasionally take the tree, in (-ertain locaHties, 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 ;i single bevy, than of any natural instinct of the bird. (^iiic again — and I have done with the difficulties of finding — particular bevies, endowed with that singular craft, which ap- proaches so very nearly to reason, that it hardly can be distin- guished therefrom, will fly when flushed, 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 liaffling all attempts to find them. In one instance, while shooting in the vale of Warwick, with an old comrade, when returning home late in the evening, and when within two hundred yards of his hospitable 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 Setters, of which we had three, all came to their point 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, surrounded by thick sumach bushes, and briary hedges, which lay just beyond the grove. We hunted till it was quite dark, however, without moving 228 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. the birds. On going out the next morning, we drew the bogs blank, and it became evident that they had roosted in the place, wherever it was, to which they had flown, on being disturbed. We set off, therefore, again in that direction, hoping to find them on their feeding ground, but spent the greater part of the morning trying for them in vain. We then 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 a brace of them only, in consequence of their rising wild, and the evening having grown dark, and again marked them over the same wood corner — the birds literally flying over the top of the very same crimson maple which they had crossed the pre- 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 piqued 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 quitted their roost, and drove them for the third time over the top of the same red maple. These birds, be it observed, were on my old companion's own farm, every inch of which we knew thoroughly, and on which there was not a brake, or tuft 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. Suddenly out of the UPLAND SHOOTING. 229 moutl) of :in old cellar, over which a cottage had stood in past days, uj) wliiilr;! a bevy of Quail, and away over the very same tree-top, liuT now in the opposite direction. On examinin'^ tiie cellar, the inside of which was filled with briars and weeds, we found conclusive proof in the numerous droppings of the birds, that they had been in the constant habit of sitting therein, attracted thither probably, in the first instance, by the apples which had fallen into the hollow from the trees overhead. It was as yet but early in the afternoon, and we were so near home that we got fresh dogs, and went to work at them again in the bogs, wheT-e we originally found them. Some time had elapsed, and they had run together into a single knot, rose again vcM-y wild, and flew directly back to the old hiding-place. Thither we ibllowed them at once, flushed them therein, proving most unequivocally that they had always lain perdu 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 we found them constantly in different parts of the bog meadow, neither as a body, nor as single birds, did they ever betake themselves again to the cellar for refuge. Had I not accidentally blundered on that jilace, when think- ing of anything rather than of the birds, I might have hunted for a month over the ground without finding them. From the cavity, and the nairowness 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 within that distance of them. And here 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 diflftcult to kill when found, than to find in the first instance. When first flushed the bevy rise with such a A\hirring and tumultuous noise that they are very apt to flutter the nei-\es of a young sportsman ; and if they rise very close to the shooter, I have often seen even tolerably good shots discharge both their barrels fruitlessly, from doing so much too quickly. 230 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. This is not, however, by any means the difficulty to which I allude, as an old and steady shot is of course presumed to be proof against such tremors ; and in the open field, under ordi- nary circumstances, ought, generally, to kill his double shot out of every bevy that is pointed and flushed within fifteen or twenty paces. The case becomes, however, altogether different after the birds have become scattered in coppice, or yet worse, in high saplings, the veiy thickest part of which they most affect, after being 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, and the short space which it requires to get under full headway. It really is wonderful to observe the ex- traordinary speed and command 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 the Ruffed Grouse, and much more frequently to the European 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 pitching 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 frovi you, as the Quail does in a great majority of cases, he presents to the aim of the 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 UPLAND SHOOTING, 231 remarkable if, with u gun that scatters its charge, even a good shot miss this ])ir(l even at a short range ; and that at thirty or forty paces the very best guns, aimed with peri'ect precision, tail frequently of killing clean. The Quail is a very brave bird, moreover. He will caiTy off a great quantity of shot, if not lodged in a vital part, and will frequent y, even when mi)rtally wounded, particularly if shot through the brain or heart, and going before the wind, fly till life- leaves him in mid air, and even after that will be pro- pelled by the rapidity of his previous motion and the buoyancy of his still extended wings, fur many yards farther in a descend- ing line. A singular instance of this occurred to myself while shooting in the Highlands of the Hudson, nearly opposite to West Point, witli two friends, in November, 1S39. We 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, pointing transversely downward. I was in the lowest of three gulleys with a brace of dogs, and perha})s a hundred yards in advance of my companions, each of whom, with one dog, was making good another parallel gorge. The wind was blowing keenly 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 232 " FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. carries its shot very closely, and that loaded with Ely's patent cartridfj-e, which are propelled full one-third farther and more strono-lv than loose shot — and to conclude, I was perfectly cool, and makinn- allowance for the distance and velocity of the birds, fired both barrels. To my infinite disgust neither bird fell, and I need not add, to the infinite mirth of my companions, who accused me of missing two perfectly fair shots in the open. « I replied, thereby greatly increasing their memment, that I had not missed either bird, and that I had hit both in front of the wing, that is to say in the most vital part of the body ; at which they laughed ineffably ; but in the end it turned out as usual that the last laugher has the best of it. For, to proceed, we marked the bulk of the bevy into the woodland I have mentioned, at least a quarter of a mile down wind, and followed them thither. But on arriving at the stone wall which bounded it on the nearer side, both my dogs stood almost simultaneously, and immediately retrieved the two birds I had shot at, perfectly dead, but both warm, and both bleed' ng from the hill. The shots I fired were the first shots fired that morning, con- sequently they must have been my birds, and they had flown after being mortally struck, above a quarter of a mile, and would probably have flown considerably farther, skimming close to the ground, had not the stone wall, against which, I have no doubt, they struck, brought them up at last. From curiosity I kept the two birds apart, and on picking them found in one five, in the other seven. No. 8 shot in the neck and breast in front of the wing. The comparative size of No. 8 shot to a Quail, is about that of grape shot to a man, and to judge of the tenacity of life and muscular motion, we must imagine a man running half a mile at the top of his pace with seven grape shot, as big as a mode- rate sized plum, through his neck and the cavity of the sternum — a thing palpably impossible ! '• We will now proceed to the consideration of the means of overcoming these difficulties, and the best method of carrying UPLAND SnOOTIN(7. 233 on the pleasant and exciting pursuit of this beaut' ful little bird. From the greater difficulty of finding and killing Quail, it follows of course that a greater combination of (jualities in the dog with which we hunt them is recjuired. For Snipe or Woodcock shooting, the latter especially, which is pursued in very close covert for the most part, we require only a dog with good hunting qualities, under excellent command, broke to hunt extremely close to his master, and never to go beyond the range of his sight. Indeed if he do not hang upon the stale scents, and potter where birds have been but are not, a dog for Woodcock shooting can hardly be too slow or too steady. Now all these qualities are essential likewise to the Quail dog, and without these qualiti(>s the sportsman can have no success wluMi he has attained the first object of his mornino;'s work, tlu" driving and scattering his birds from open grain or grass fields into covert wherein they will lie hard, and rise singly, which constitute the only circumstances under which, north of the Delaware and Potomac, it is possible to bag many Quail. Yet this is far from all that we require in a Quail dog ; for as we are compelled to seek for our birds in the open feeding grounds, while they are running in the early morning, and as our day's sport mainly depends on finding a considerable num- ber of birds during that short time, which ends at the latest, by ten o'clock in the morning, and earlier in warm, sunny days, it follows that the more ground we can get over in a given time, the greater the chance of success. We retpire therefore that our brace of dogs while beating open ground should have dash and speed enough to run almost like foxhounds on a breast-high scent, heads up and stems down, quarteiing the field from fence to fence in opposite direc- tions and crossing each other midway — that they should be so staunch and steady as to allow the shooter to come up to them from five or six hundred yards' distance, without breaking their point — and lastly that they should be under command so perfect 234 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. that on getting int.) covert tlicy shall cross and re-cross their o-round fifty times, never budging twenty yards from the feet of their master, and working as slowly as the slowest Cock-dog. It will be seen at once that such a combination of opposite qualities must needs be very rare ; and so rare is it, that for o.yevy hundred of good Woodcock-dogs which I have seen in this country, I have not seen ten equally good on Quail. I shall not touch here on the comparative and much disputed excellence of the Pointer or the Setter, except to observe that personally I greatly prefer the latter ; while I admit that for persons who shoot but rarely, and who do not like the trouble of constant supervision of their dogs, I had almost said constant dog-breaking, the Pointer is the more suitable companion. I have, however, seen, indeed have owned Setters, which in all points of steadiness might have competed with the staunch- est Pointers, and which were as careful and under as good command on the first, as on the last, day of the season. I will now suppose that the sportsman has arrived at his shooting ground, and taken up his quarters in his snug country tavern for the night, previous to commencing operations in the early morning over a brace of good dogs, Pointers or Setters, at his own option. First then, let him see his dogs, which we will suppose have run some part of their journey afoot, well suppered on mush, or suppawn of Indian-meal, or oatmeal, seasoned with a little salt, but no meat, which injures the nose ; and well bedded on clean wheaten straw. Next let him sup lightly, limit his pota- tions to the second glass, and eschew a second pipe or cigar. Let him to-bed early, that he may sleep well and rise refreshed and with steady nerves. These are small matters doubtless — but it is the obsei-vance of small matters that makes great men in any line, and in our case, good sportsmen. Lastly, let him assure himself before retiring to rest, that his sheets are dry and well aired, no inconsiderable matter to him who would avoid rheumatism. If he be the least in doubt, and UPLAND SHf)OTI.NG. 235 be wise, he will discard tht; susj)uctcd linen, and turn iu be- tween the blankets. On getting up in the morning, all ablutions duly performed, it will be necessai-y to provide for the needful operation of breaking fast ; and this must neitker be neglected, ibr no man can take exercise with impunity on an empty stomach ; nor must it be done too luxuriously, for as certainly no man can walk well, or fast, or keep it up long, on an overloaded one. Here is my method. I have found it impossible to get out early enough to do exe- cution from any country tavern, if one waits until a hot break- fast is prepared My method, tlierefore, is to take with me a cold liani, or a cold hunters' round, and to have tlie table laid over night, in addition to that, with bread, butter, and cold milk, on which, for my part, I can breakfast very satisfactorily. This done, if you know the country, go to the place where are the most and likeliest grain stubbles lying near to good woodland, or coppice covert, and beat them regularly, in such a manner that the woods shall be down-wind of your beat. Let your dogs, however, beat every field up-wind, by which means they will scent their birds one-third farther than if you go down- wind. Look especially to the sides of the fields, particularly if they J'f^-y are bushy ; Quail do not affect the middle even of the stubbles y-^^._, on which they feed, / If your dogs trail a mnning bevy, never run or hurry them, ■' They are, if you do so, nearly sure to flush them wild. Be, on '-'^ - the contrary, very steadv yourself, and cry " Steady ! steady ! ^ a Toho !" words to which dogs should be accustomed early. If //^ ' / they point firmly, and are so very staunch that you can depend on them, it is not a bad plan to make a Avide circuit, and get a-head of the bevy, which even if wild and running, will often squat on finding itself enclosed between the dog and the gun, and thus afford good shooting. If you drive a bevy of Quail into good covert, be not in haste to follow it. It will stay there, be sure ; and you will find them 236 FRAXfc forester's field sports. far more certainly after half an hour has elapsed. For myself I have found it the best plan, where woods are small, and the covert thick, to go on beating the open fields, without following the l)evies at all, in the first instance, marking them down care- fully when 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 beA-y. by the time he has done with it, the birds will have crept away into their hiding-places, and he may h.unt 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 found birds in the morning, although it is pretty much chance work, bog mea- dows, brown bushes on southerly 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 ixm 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 spoilsman who has failed of finding his bevies on the feeding ground in the morning — if he l:now 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 fairly 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. 237 with good eyesight, and steady nei-ves, may attain to respecta- bility, if not excellence, in this gentlemanlike and manly art. To this end, practice and coolness are the great desiderata. Rules, I think, avail httle, if anything. I have seen men shoot excellently, who closed one eye to take aim — excellently who shot with both open, — never, liowever, I must admit, decently, who shut both — not, by the way, a vei-y uncommon occurrence . with beginners. I have seen men again shoot excellently, car- rying their guns at full cock, — excellently, who never cocked either barrel till in the act of firing. There is, however, one thing to be obsei-ved, — no man can shoot well in covert, or at snap sliots, who follows his bird with his gun, or dwells on his aim — the first sight is always the best ; and it is deliberate pro7)iptitude in catching this first sight which alone constitutes — what my poor friend, J. Cypress, Junior, used to call the rarest work of nature — a truly cool, truly (juick, crack shot. With regard to hunting dogs on Quail, there is a great deal to be said ; and in nothing is the true and thoroughbred sports- man more distinctly marked from the cockney pot-hunter, than by his skill, temper, and success, in managing his four-footed companions. Quail shouting, 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 ov\m opinion, Jiere, out of five, know so little what are the re- quisite perfoi-mances 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. 238 FRANK forester's field sports. As in all other tuition, reward and punishment must both be brought into play ; but it is a great thing to remember that, while a dog should neoer be 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 down- 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 the 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 tuni his head 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 hoai'se 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 UPLAND SHOOTING, ZSV of the first, the real utility will bo greatly diminished by too frequent apulication ] sliall 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 apart from the pursuit of other game. / (cLc A /?jr^/V;../ I i^'U- P .ru.. ( (- U- c^ A A ^./ €40 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. RUFFED GROUSE SHOOTING, VULGO, PARTRIDGE SHOOT! NG. Grouse, or as it is there ter T was my misfortune once — once only, gentle reader — in my life, to be seduced into underta- king an excursion very late in the season, a few days only be- fore Christmas, into the interior of Connecticut, for the especial purpose of shooting the Ruffed , Partridore. I went on the representation of a friend, who while Cock- shooting on that ground, early in the autumn, befoi'e the leaves were down, had moved an immense number of these birds, which were then in broods with the old hen. He assured me, 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, contraiy 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. 241 The Ruifed Grouse, after the broods have separated and left the hens, are the wildest and most wary birds 1 have ever pur- sued, when tlie woody nature of the haunts which they affect is taken into consideration. They have also the most rambling habit of any American game-bird, except the Turkey ; it not being an uncommon thing lor 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 favorite resorts are the steep ledgy s'des of rocky hills, covered with thick wood, and that generally of evergreens, as pine, hemlock, or red cedar, 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 consequently start on the full run — and he who has tned 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 reading on their scent for a mile or two, either flap up unper- ceived into a tree, or take wing at a hundred yards' distance ; and in either case get away unshot at. On this account, they are the most trying bird to the temper 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, 16 242 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. findins;- themselves unable to run, and will lie, on such occa- sions, till they are literally kicked up. I have never, in all my experience of shooting in this coun- try, seen this occur but twice ; and in fact the bird is so seldom found in lowland country, that I consider it utterly useless to go out in pursuit of Ruffed Grouse, except as an adjunct with other birds of bolder and freer wing. One of the instances I have alluded to above, is perhaps not unworthy of notice, as I believe it to be almost unique ; for I have met no sportsman who has seen any thing 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 after 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, narrow swale, between a steep ridge and an open meadow, along the edge of which my companion was walking, while I myself made good the whole Avidth 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 sui-prise a very fine Ruffed Grouse, a cock bird, rose within ten feet of me, and flew directly across me toward the hill. Unfortunately, my friend fired at the bird across me, contraiy to all i-ules of sportsmanship, so that two charges were wasted on this bird ; for immediately, at the report, three more birds 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- ed the cock across the swale to the ridge, till I stopped him. Taking it for granted that all the birds must have gone now, four barrels having been fired directly over the thicket in which UPLAND SHOOTINfi. 243 they lay, T miule some observation to my companion about his rashness in firing- ; when three more birds whirred out of the sani" l)us',i in ijnirk su(x-.ession, and of course got away unshot at, all mir barri'ls l>eing empty. Alter I had loaded, yet an ei'j;litli bird got up a few yards ahead, having crept out, I imagine, while the dogs were at down charge, and I was fortu- nate enough to kill it also — thus bringing four Ruffed Grouse to bag, which were sprang one by one, or very nearly so, out of a t!,ickct less than thirty feet in circumference. We ought certainly to have got one more bird, at least; and had we been as silent as wo should, might possibly have bagged them all, for they all rose within four or five yards of our gun-muzzles, and the place was quite open and fair shooting ground. I iu>ver saw a more evident proof of the great propriety, and great gain, of attending strictly to the most minute rules of sportsmnnship 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 hundredth 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 ^''»''w «*»'' liim among those gentry of the street, who think no hunting but '^.^/L ^ /'' dollar-hunting respectable ! who actually brought to bag eight ^ ' ^ , Pinnated Grouse, in succession, without himself moving from his ground, or his dog breaking its point. This occurred, some ■*•■ ■- ' -' - '^' years since, on Martha's Vineyard; but, as I have observed )U f» h /^ • before, I know no authentic instance of the Ruffed Grouse ever lying in the same manner, after the separation of the broods/ ''' '*^*'/ Before that period, they of course lie to the dog as the Quail, v, ,. f..., the Prairie Hen, or the Grouse of the British Isles. Hence, I ,,j / consider the day fixed by our legislature for the end of close '''^'' £ time, as too late in regard to the Ruffed Grouse. rii a *t'v The constantly repeated tale, that the Ruffed Grouse when it -v^-^it f.,f._,. alights in trees in companies, which it occasionally will do, in ^ the spring, when eating the young buds, of which it is extremely . ■■ ' -'Zj. 244 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. foiitl, will allow the whole flock to be shot down, one by one, without stiniiig, provided the shooter takes the precaution of shooting that which sits the lowest on the tree, first, is as fabu- lous, as it is, on the face, ridiculous. Mr. Audubon notes this fact, with his wonted accuracy; adding that during heavy snow stoiins he has sometimes killed three or four. This is crediljle enoxxgh ; starvation will make any bird or beast tame, and snow appears, while falling, to have a peculiar effect on birds of this order — unlike rain, which makes them wild — rendering them very unwilling to rise. — Savages in this region of country — I can designate them by no other name — often shoot whole bevies of Quail while huddled together on the ground in their little circles, during snow storms, in this manner, at a single shot. So far, however, are such foul practices from deserving to be recorded as modes of killing game, that I only speak of them here, in order to uphold them, and all who practice them, to the contempt and abhor- rence of every one who would be termed a sportsman. I have been told that these birds exist in such abundance on the Kaatskills, and in all that region of country, that it is well worth the while to go out in pursuit of them, without 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 Eastei-n 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 grassy 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 — but that is not sport for sportsmen ! UPLAND SHOOTING. 245 The Ruffecl Grouse is a singularly handsome bird, whether on the ground or on the wing ; looking, from the looseness and downy habit of his feathers, considerably larger than he really is. He rises with a very loud whirring of his wings — which Mr. Audubon asserts so positively, that I must suppose so accu- rate an observer to be surely correct, to be uttered merely at moments of alarm and sudden trepidation, the bird when not foi'ced to take wing, rising noiselessly — and gets under way with extreme I'apidity. In general, this bird does not rise much higher than a man's head, and then flies very straight, and very swiftly, at an even elevation for several hundred yards ; after which it will set both its wings, and sail dead before the wind with immense velocity. To kill the Ruffed Grouse, when thus skating down-wind, as it crosses you, having been flushed at a distance, it is necessary to allow a considerable space for the swiftness of its motion ; and I should fire not less than two feet in front of one, at thirty-five or forty yards' distance. Going directly away from the gun, the Rutfed Grouse, like the Quail, is an awkward bird to kill, from the fact, that they both fly with the body so nearly level, that the rump and hai'd bones of the back receive the shot ; and in this part of the body they will have to be struck very heavily, before they will fall. Tt is a good plan in this position to shoot a little low, as you are far more apt to over than to under-shoot them. A cross shot, if not too far off, is easily killed ; as tlie bird affords a fair mark, and will not carry o.T 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 Great 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- 246 FRANK FOUESTER S FIELD SPORTS. land, it would very soon become abundant. Indeed, the hedge- rows would be sufficient to hold it, everywhere ; and from what I have seen, and stated above, of its habits in the low grounds Tiere, I do not doubt that it would there afford sport equal to any ' / Oj^ Eno'lish bird, except the Red Grouse. Its flesh is delicious, if ' !, . /dressed properly. It will bear to be kept hanging, in the (k. '^^V*'*' 'Autumn, two or three weeks with manifest advantage ; it should r Av/ /y/lae roasted quickly, befox'e an extremely hot fire ; and it should ''//,; ^^^/tte 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 , 1 ,^"' juices ; after a few minutes it may be withdrawn from the focus * ^ of heat, until it shall be cooked throuo^h. It should be eaten, !i. «•<" r g^g g}iQu](j xhe Grouse and Quail, with bread sauce and fried s i- /^-^ cruvibs, — any sort of jelly, or sweet condiment, with any galli- L-n*. s»' ;'': ( 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 larded, 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. The 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 prevents the grand 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 j^ig- The epicure will prefer 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 snohs, — Heaven forbid that I should intend a comparison, in thus uniting them ! but it is a fact that they both invariably tJI'LANP SHOOTING. 247 prefer the ho.iom, as I believe it is the fashion of these modest days to teim the white meat. For tlie benefit of wliit the French are pleased to call aniphi- tryons, the excellent m;Mi who are rich enoupfh to give good dinners, and of the happy men who are allowed to eat them, I will add, that red wine is the tiling with game of all kinds. The riglit thing of all is C/iainbertln, or clan de Vougcot ! but, in default of these, a sound Lcifittc or Latotir claret is excel- lently Will 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. Except at a ball supper, no one, except counter-jumpers, ever think of champagne, beyond oni' tumbler with the roti. The iiL'xi: thing to killing your game handsomely, after find- ing it guostically, 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 gridiron is an article of the ctht^ '^ kitchen prohihitcd, unless in the case of a venison steak, a BeaTjO.. -/.^ / chop, or a Wild Duck. To broil a Quail, or a Grouse, much > s»^.a,- more a Snipe, or a Woodcock, ought to be made — likeyr^m^ a beefsteak — death without benefit of clergy. , y "" 248 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD i^POKTS. GROUSE SHOOTING. HIS noble sport I have never my- self had an opportunity of enjoying, ^though I still live in the hope of finding myself on some fine autum. nal morning, in the Western Prairies, w^ith two or three brace of good dogs, a staunch companion, and all appur- tenances 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 Prairie-land, the magni- ficent range of country which is spread out before the eye of the sportsman, the openness of the shooting, and the opportu nity of obsei-ving all the motions of the dogs, must render this sport, like Red Grouse shootins^ in Great Britain, the queen of American field sports. In the State of New Jersey, it is said that a i'ew liirds still linger among the sandy pine barrens, along the southern shore, but if so, they have become so rare, that it is worse than useless to attempt hunting for them. On the brush plains of Long Island they were entirely extinct, even before my arrival in America. Among the scrub oaks in the mountains of Pike and Northampton counties, in Eastern Pennsylvania, a few packs are supposed to be bred yearly, and a few sportsmen are annu- ally seduced into the attempts to find them. But annually the rPLAxn SHOOTING. i!4I> attempt is becoming more and more useless ; and anything ap- proaching to sport is absolutely hopeless. Many years ago I spent a week among the forest land north- ward of Milford, and with no success whatever, not so much as seeing a single bird. In INlartha's Vineyard they are so strictly preserved, that I have never taken the trouble of travelling thither on the chance of obtaining permission to shoot at them, although I am well aware that there are sportsmen from New York who resort thither yearly in pursuit of them. On the barrens of Kentucky, where they fomierly abounded, as in tlie Eastern States, they have become extinct ; and, in truth, unless the sportsman is prepan;d to travel so far as Chicago, St. Joseph's, or St. Louis, he has not much chance of obtaining any- thing to reward his pains, in the way of Grouse shooting; and it is, perhaps, worth observing, that in the present advanced state of internal communication with the Western Cf)untry, there is no real difficulty, and no gi-eat expense, in the way of 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 off at any time after the first of September, with a strong kennel, for the prairies. This Grouse breeds early, the nest being generally finished on the first of May ; the eggs are rarely more than twelve in number, the hen sits eighteen or nineteen days, and the young run so so(m as they are hatched. This 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 rei^rct to say, at that age, and a little older, butchered, and pronounced excellent 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 correct opinions on a great variety of topics, that I mai-\-el at his prac- tice in regard to Grouse, discourses thus on the habits and modes of shooting this bird, as he understands them : — 250 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. " Well then," says he, " these nohle birds early in Septem- ber, or even so soon as late in August, who have -whooped, and strutted, and ti-umpeted the live-long spring and summer, the undisturbed possessors of the prairies, are now leading about their broods, some three-quarter parts grown, and tlity ai'e at no time in better condition for broiling, the most delicate spring chickens yielding to them in flavor ; 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 now, when 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 his sportsmanship are about on a par, both 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 cliickcn, 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 gunner, 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 th.e character of butchery. To quote once more from the writer above cited : — " Let the gnostics preach about its being not ' sportsmanlike, g,nd 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 fear of thinning off" the tribe, for their name is legion, and the UPLAND SHOOTING. 251 farmers will not grieve wlien they reflect that there will be, at any rate, by so much the fewer depredators on their corn-fields next autumn and winter, when it m ly truly be said, they are fruges comminere nati. Moreover, we must make the most of them no.v, for in six weeks they will change their character and habits so entirely, that by no ingenuity can we possibly got near cnouLj'i for a shot; and the devils, though they now tumble over oil the reception of two or thi-ee Xo. S shot, will then carry off as miu'li lead as a Galena steambiat. it is astoiiisliiiig how dirticult t'le full-grown birds are to kill, — I have known them, when riddled with No. 4 s'lot, to tly entirely out of sight and leave you bending forward your neck, in hopes that asyuuhave knocked off feathers enough, as it would seem, to fill a bolster, that straight and rapid flight must soon alter ; but no, on goes the bird in a ' bee line,' till his figure melts into thin air," »Scc. It is, indeed, sorry work, when a man who writes so very well, and who seems to possess very many of the genuine ideas and feelings of a sportsman, should condescend to promulgate such mischievous nonsense as the above. I note this the more vdllingly, because to such selfish sophistry, on the part of sports- men, more than half the difficulty of presei-ving game is directly ascribable. • For who, if the sportsman shoots out of season, because it is easier to kill half-grown birds than full-grown ones, or because there are so many of them, that two or threescore, or hundreds more or less, will not be missed, will abstain from doing like- wise ? Or how shall we, conscious of such a beam in our own eye, venture to extract the mote from our brother's ? The arguments advanced — if arguments they can be called — in the above precious paper, are equally applicable to every other species of game that flies. The Quail is a very hard bird to stop when full-grown, and well on the wing, especially in wild weather, and thick covert — an infinitely harder bird, in proportion to its size, which makes it all the more difficult to hit, and precludes the possibility of using large shot, than the Grouse — but I am happy to say, that 252 FRANK FORESTERS FIELD SPORTS. I never in my life heard a sportsman advocate shooting Quail in July, because it is easier to kill them then, than in November. Again, that it is not impossihle to kill Grouse — Prairie Hen — in the autumn and winter, is rendered sufficiently evident by the quantity of these birds, killed with shot, which are exposed an- nually for sale in the New York and Philadelphia markets, over and above all those which are consumed in their native regions. Lastly, the reasoning on the number of the birds, is precisely that which has led to their annihilation in the Eastern and Mid- land States, and even in Kentucky, and which is equally applicable to every species of game in every district where it is abundant. I have heard the very same sort of talk held by countrymen, in defence of the vile practice of shooting Woodcock in spring, where there were then thousands of those birds. The conse- quence of that talk is, that there are now none in those regions. The truth is, that until the middle of October, the young birds are not very strong on the wing, — after that period they become gradually wilder and stronger, and take longer flights, some- times even to the distance of two or three miles in open country. Their flight is less rapid than that of the Rufted Grouse, though of the same character. It does not make so loud a whirring as it first rises, but once on the wing, uses the same straight even course, maintained for some distance by frequent beats of the wings, after which it will float foi several hundred yards at a time on balanced pinions, with the velocity gathered from its previous course. It is said very rarely to pass over the person who flushes it, even by the most sudden surprise. It feeds on stubbles and in maize-fields, and is to be hunted for in the vicinity of such grounds, where it will be found in the greatest abundance. On open prairie-grounds, the highest and speediest rangers are, of course, the best dogs over which to shoot the Grouse, as is the case with the Scottish red game, provided always that the animal has good nose enough to stand them at a long distance, and is staunch enough to allow the sportsman to come up from a distance, without moving on, or flushinor his birds. UPLAND SHOOTING. 253 I should presume that, for Grouse shooting in general, the Pointer would be preferable to the Setter, as this bird is noto- rious for its dislike to watery or marshy ground, — and it is the Pointer's preeminent merit that he can endure more hours of thirst, than any other of the dog kind. The Setter, on the con- trary, very speedily loses his power of scenting, and soon after- wards his whole energy and strength, in hot weather, where ' water is not to be obtained. For this reason, to the Eastward, in New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, in all of which, brush plains, pines, and oak barrens, the soil is equally dry and sterile, the Pointer is as much prefei-red, as he is in the similarly dry Par- tridge shooting of England. The British moors, on which the Red and Black Grouse are found, abound with springs, well- heads, brooks, and morasses, and on these the greater speed, daring, and dash of the Setter, as well as the advantage 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 must confess myself entirely at a loss to comprehend the meaning oi this passage. In Europe, it is very true that the Setter naturally crouches close to the gi-ound, 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 point 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 have 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 natural 254 FUANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. habit in tlie races ; and it is worthy of remark that tlie best dog I ever owned here was one which I imported from England when a small pup, and had broke in New Jersey. I never saw either his dam or his sii'e, over both which I shot in Eng- land, ^o/«^ a bird, and I never saw him set one. The first bird he ever scented was a Woodcock, on the fourth of July, and that he stood, with head and stern high in the air, as showily as I ever saw a Pointer stand. Nothing has ever puzzled me more completely as regards field sports than this fact, and I cannot figure to myself any reason 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 climate rendering the scent colder here than in England — for it is certain that the hotter the scent, the closer the dog sets — but I cannot see that this holds good by analogy, as I think dogs find and point their game fully as far off" here as in Europe. This observation of Mr. Audubon's has brought the matter, 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 remai-ked, 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- quent tracts of low bushes and stunted underwood ; and when on the wing will fly for miles rather than alight until they can find a clear place, such as an old road-way, or a new cutting, in which to settle. They generally nin forward swiftly as soon as they strike the ground, and not unfrequently press themselves into thick covert, where they squat, and are compelled to lie hard by the difficulty which they experience in taking wing, fi'om 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. UPLAND SHOOTING. 2-o5 The Grouse invariably makes a clucking noise when it takes wing before a dog, and if it rises within distance, is a very easy shot. No. 7 early in the season, and later No. 5, are the best sizes of shot. Alter that, I should prefer m'/ Ely's cartridges, of No. 5 shot, which I will be bound to say will fetch them frf)m a good twelve or fourteen guago gun of proper weight, held by a (juick hand, and levelled by a true eye, at any period of the season. Mr. Audubon observes, contrary to the remarks cited above from W.lson and Dr. Mitchill, that the Grouse drinks when in a state of nature, like the common fowl, and farther, that it is exceedhigly susceptible of dom.estication, even breeding freely in captivity. The remarks with regard to beating with dogs for the Quail and Ruffed Grouse, and for shooting both these birds on the wing, except so far as they are here modified, are all applica- ble to the Prairie or Heath-Hen. The flesh of this bird is not white, like that of the Ruffed Grouse, but red, like that of the Scottish Moor Fowl, which in many respects it resembles. It has more of the bitter taste than the Ruffed Grouse, and is, in my opinion, a decidedly superior bird. It will bear to be hung for some days, or even weeks in cold weather, and is to be cooked and eaten accord- ing to the direction given under the last head. In conclusion, it is well to state here, that there is certainly no distinction 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 bird — the Pinn.\ted Grouse, Tet.rao Cupido, of the ornithologist, and emphaticallv the Grouse of the sportsman. Of the Canada, or Spotted Grouse, it is in vain to speak, for he is not as yet to be 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 %56 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. .Scotia and New Brunswick, and if anywhere he exists in sufficient numTsers to render the pursuit of him exciting as a sport, I have no doubt that the dogs over which to shoot him would be well broke Cocking Spaniels. I believe that the flesh of this species is the most highly flavored of all the varieties of Grouse which we possess, though I but once had an opportunity of tasting it. It 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. UPLAND SHOOTING. 257 AUTUMN SHOOTING. It is brilliant Autumn time, the most brilliant time of all, When the gorgeous woods are gleainiii;; ere the leaves begin to fall; When the maple boughs are crimson, and the hickory shines like gold, When the noons are sultry hot, and the nights are frosty cold ; When the country has no green but the sword-grass by the rill, And the willows in the valley, and the pine upon the hill ; When the pippin leaves the bough, and the sumach's fruit is red, And the Cluail is piping loud from the buckwheat where he fed ; When the sky is blue as steel, and the river clear as glass, When the mist is on the mountain, and the network on the grass ; When the harvests all are housed and the farmer's work is done, And the woodland is resounding with the spaniels and the gun; ' ( ' R is the season of the sports- man's adoration ; to him, the lover of boon nature in her loveliest mdod, these days are not, as Mr. Bryant in his beautiful poem has described them, to him at least, '' the melancholy days," " the sad- dest of the year," nor, with all deference to that sweet bard and moralist of the woods and waters, can I agree with him as to the tone of sentiment and feeling exci- ted by the contemplation of the scenery of an American autumn. It is true that we know ourselves to be looking upon, as it were, a hectic loveliness, which, like the glow on the cheek of consumptive beauty, is the precursor of decay and death. Still, so exquisite is that beauty, so delicious the temperature, the atmosphere, the aspect of the skies ; so gorgeous the hues of forest-mantled mountain and deep woodland, that to me the 17 258 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. r)rcmise of spring and the fullness of summer are both inferior to ihe serene and calm decline of the woodland year. It leads to death indeed ; but it seems to me rather to resemble the tranquil and gentle close of a well-spent life, beautified by the consciousness of good deeds done during the heat of youth, and in the heyday of manhood, and enriched by the hope of glories to shine forth after the winter of the grave, than the termination of an existence to be dreaded or deplored. Every land has its own season of peculiar loveliness ; and if the sweet sjoring-tide of soft and dewy England, with its JNIay smile i and its April teirs and its rich breath of flowery fra- grance, has awakened the fond sympathies of her landscape- loving poets, the many-colored, purple-hazed, and silvery-skied autumn of America has neither been unhonored nor unsung of lyres worthy to hang aloft in high niches of the temjale conse- crate to the noblest tongue of the modern universe. The true sportsman must ever be a lover of the charms of rural scenery, and for this among other things 1 love and honor sportsmanship. I do not believe that any genuine forester, be his exterior as rough as the shell of the prickly chestnut, but 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 contemplation and induce thought, and I have often observed that the spots to which he will conduct you, apparently with- out a thought, except in reference to their convenience, wherein to take your noonday meal, or your afternoon siesta, will be the very places to charm the poet's fancy, or fix the painter's eye. I think no lover of nature can be an unkindly, or, at the bottom, an evil-minded or bad man. And so — and so ] 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 259 of the morning, not the peep of day, but eight, or hy'r Luly ! nine of the Shrewsbury ch>ck, when the aulumnal sun has lifted liis broad, jovial, ruddy i'ace, Iroin liis dewy pillow, and raisi'd it, loouiiug lai'ge and blood-red through the thin haze, ab ivo the mountain's brow. There has been a touch of frost during tlie niglit, and its .-ilver fretwork is still white over the deep after-grass, and yet unaltered feni leaves. The air is (dear and brisk, yet balmy, and its every breath seems to exhilarate tlif miihl, as if it were champagne inspired by the nostrils. The scene is a broad and gentle valley, bijrdered on either side by hills, cultivated to their mid height, and crowned aloft with the unshorn primeval woodlands. The meadows in the bottom, along the clear brimful stream — in Europe it would aspire to be called a river — are green and soft as velvet ; but the woods and swamps in the vale, are rich with every color that the painter's pallet can afford ; the blood-red foliage of the maples, the gold of the hickories, the chrome yellow of the poplars, the red russet of the oaks, the dull purple of the dog- woods, mixed with the sable green of the late alder tops, the everlasthig verdure of the rhododendrons, and the lightsome greenery of the willow, forming a marvellous succession of con- trasts and accidents of light and shade, all blended into one hamionious whole, such as no other scene or season, no other clime or country, can exhibit. And at this time of year, at this hour of the moniing, and into such a landscape, we will imagine a brace of sportsmen emerging from the doorway of the country tavern in which they have spent the night, with their canine companions, and a stout rustic follower, loaded with supernumerary shot-belts and game- bags, carrying in his dexter claw a stiff hickory cleaning-rod, and leading with his sinister a leash of large, bony, red-and- white Cocking Spaniels. Our sportsmen, for the nonce, adopting old Izaac Walton's quaint nomenclature, which figureth forth something of the cha- racter from the name, we will call AgiUs and Pentus. The former youthful, and somewhat rash, yet neither altogether ver- 260 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. dant nor inexpert in the mysteries of the fowlingpiece, — the latter deliberate, though ardent, perfect with the gun, steady with the dogs, and a master of those noble sciences, hight, venerie, and woodcraft. They are both aptly habited for the field, in russet shooting- jackets, of stout corduroy, or fustian, long-waisted waistcoats, low-crowned hats, and ankle-boots of cowhide. The younger man, however, sports a pair of loose, fashionably-cut trousers, while the elder has donned knee breeches, and tight russet lea- thern leggins. Each has a double-barrelled gun under his arm, and the other appliances of flask and pouch, hidden in his roomy pockets. Neither wears any game-bag, but an ivory whistle is suspended from the upper button-hole of both jackets. The dogs whicli are following, docile at the heel, are a brace of Setters of the highest breed, one a red dog, with a black nose, and without a speck of white, except a snip on his breast, and a tag to his fine, feathery stern, — the other black and tan ; the perfection each, this of the Irish, that of the English strain, and indicating in some sort that perfection by their colors. " And so, Peritus," said the younger and slighter man, as they took their way through the outskirts of the village, " you augur well of our chance of sport to-day V " I do not think, Agilis," replied his friend, " that there is any chance about it. It has been a good breeding year for Quail, and they say that they are abundant ; then the autumn has been seasonable, and the nights have not been sharp enough to banish the Woodcock. There is a bit of pretty Snipe ground on our beat too, and we shall get a few couple, without doubt. Those, with a brace or two of Ruffed Grouse, which, I dare say, we shall manage to pick up among the cedar knolls, and along the wood-edges, a few Hares, and, perhaps, some Wood-duck, or Teal, or even a Mallard, by chance, will make up something in the way of a bag." " Do you expect to find all these varieties of game 1 I have never shot above three kinds in a day." " Ah ! you have not shot before in autumn in America. For UPLAND SHOOTING. 261 this very reason it is the prettiest and most exciting sport in the world ; tliat you can never even form a conjecture what is going to [xvA up Ill-ton; you, until you see it on the wing. Now, my good iVieud Rustii'us, will you take yourseli' and the Spaniels to the t;ill oak tree; on the brow of the hill yonder, and do your i»e.st to mark down every bevy we flush, to a yard. When we rejoin you, we will couple up the Setters, and beat the swales and thickets with the little duga. Now, hold u\), lads ! look sharp, Ai,nlis, they are drawing already. There has been a bevy ruiuiing here since the sun was up. See how gingerly they crawl over the tainted grass. Now they are standing both of them. Is not that a picture ?" And they stepped up to the dogs, which held their point as stiff and staunch as if they had been cast in bronze, or carved in marble. " Hold ! Agilis ! Don't liead them, my dear fellow. I want to let them go, if they will, into those sprouts on the hill side. They are close under the red dog's nose. There ! they are up ! Steady !" Bang ! bang ! " Bravo ! a brace, Agilis ! very neatly done, I assure you ; you let them go far enough then, yet not too far, before firing. You never killed a Quail before, hey V " Never on this side the water, Peritus. In France and Spain I have shot a good many." " A different bird altogether, though of the same order. Not half so bold, or strong, or swift on the wing:, as this, which some writers call the American Partridge." " Is it a Partridge or a Quail, Peiitus, after all ?" " Neither one nor the other, Agilis, an intermediate link be- tween the two, but approximating nearer to the Quail. See, the red dog has retrieved one — good dog, Sancho ! A pretty bird, is it not ?" " Very. But what did you do ? I was busy trying to mark the bevy, and did not see your shots." " Oh ! I killed two, of course. It was quite open. Did you mark them ?" 262 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPOUTS. " No. I could not, with certainty. But I think they dropped in that bog-meadow, near yon pine tree." " No, AgiHs, you did not cast your eye forward sufficiently in watching them, as they skimmed low over the ground before the wind. They went four hundred yards farther, and are down in that thicket, with the willows at this end." " Aye ! you have a keen eye, Peritus. Well, let us follow them at once." " Practice is more than keenness of sight, in marking. But we will by no means follow them at once. We must find seve- ral other bevies, and drive them, if possible, the same way " " Must we, — that seems strange." " Yes. I will tell you about it at luncheon time ; but now come on. The dogs are reading another bevy. Look forward beyond tlie crag there, by the cedars." But Peritus was in error ; it was not another bevy, but a Ruffed trrouse, which rose a moment afterward with a loud whin-ing, out of a brake, and was cut down handsomely by the older sportsman, after being missed by Agilis ; who, fluttered by the noise, shot a little too quickly at him. Five minutes afterward the black Setter stood suddenly and dead, in a dry maize-stubble, before Agilis, and a moment later Sancho drew, and came to a doubtful point in an opposite direc- tion, without seeing his companion. " Look alive, Agilis ; that is either a Cock or a Hare before you, and Sancho is upon a running bevy." It was, sure enough, a Hare ; which bounced up instantly out of its form, among some long grass and weeds in the maize- stubble, and was tumbled over before it had run many yards, by Agilis. At the report the bevy of Quail rose wild, and at a long distance ; which did not, however, hinder Peritus from drop- ping one, killed clean at fifty yards, or upward. " A long shot, and a good one !" said Agilis. - " It was an Eley's cartridge. Loose shot would scarce have stopped him. Those birds have gone into the saplings on the hill-side, and they, I doubt not, are full of Woodcock. We are sure of sport now." Ul'LAND SHOOTINr;. 263 Oiiaii we go after this bevy ]" " Not yet, T had rather wait till thoy begin to run, we may very likely miss thorn otherwise." On they went, therefore, and periV'ctly right were they to go on ; foi- Prritus' mode of beating for Quail is the true one This cunning little bird, having either the power, or the pecu liarity, of retaining its scent for sinne short time after alighting, when it is alarmed, so that the best dogs in the world shall fail to tiiid it. This may be nn accidental provision of nature, pos- sibly owing to some contraction of the pores, and consequent check of the odoriferous effluvium, owing to alarm ; but I am rather inclined to believe that it is an absolute power of the bird, and arising from an exertion of will, — since I have inva- riably observed, during the period in which the Quail gives forth no scent, it cannot b(^ I'orced to rise even in the openest and most easy ground, unless actually almost trodden on. I have repeatedly marked Quail, literally to a yard, both in open bog-meadows, and in woods of tall timber, clear of under- brush, and have beat unsuccessfully with good dogs, immedi- ately after marking them, until almost convinced that I was mistaken in the fact of their having dropped where I imagined. Yet, on returning afterward, when they had begun to move about, and call a little, I have found my first opinion to be cor- rect. On one occasion, I distinctly remember marking three Quail into a little briar patch, on a dry tussocky meadow, and seven more of the same bevy some fifty or sixty yards farther, into Ion (J grass and ruslies, by the margin of a boggy stream, under willows. At this time I was perfectly aware of the peculiarity of which I am speaking ; but, owing to the lay of the ground, and the direction of my beat, I had no option but to try it at once. I beat the briar patch, which could not have exceeded twenty yards in diameter, carefully to and fro, with a brace of Setters, crossing and rccrossing it, and myself kicking and trampling the bushes, but in vain. 264 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. On coming under the willows, both dogs stood instantaneous- ly on two different birds, which proved, however, to be Wood- cock. Eight or nine of these latter birds we flushed and bagged, without moving any Quail except one which I almost trod upon, a second a.ter my best dog had gone within a foot of it, taking no notice of its presence. My companions laughed at me, for expressing an opinion that the Quail were still there, within a few yards of us ; but it proved that I was not in eiTor. A Woodcock went away unshot at, or at least unwounded, and led us a long stretch off the direction of our intended beat ; while hunting for it we found another bevy of Quail scattered, and had some sport with it, by which we were amused and occupied duiing half an hour. Returning across the first ground, we got six points at six single birds, Quail, under the willows ; and in consequence went back into the briar patch, scarcely entering it before the Setters stood on the first three. The fact is difficult to explain, but a fact it is ; and it occurs only with the unwounded birds. I have never knovvai Setters to have the smallest difficulty in footing crippled Quail, which always run or tumble about as soon as they alight, or in point- ing dead Quail. I have even seen dogs find one dead Quail among a whole bevy of live ones, which they could not scenl at that time, but which they did subsequently hunt up in good style. Therefore, I say Peritus was in the right of it, in drawing his distinction as he did on that day ; for he not only improved his chance of finding more bevies by pursuing them while they were on the run in the early morning, and so scattering them into good shooting covert, where he was sure to find them again during the basking hours, when, unless flushed and marked down before, they can scarcely be raised, but increased the likelihood of finding his birds in good style. And all this he explained, in many more words than I have space to use, and with many an apt illustration, while he and Agilis were lying down under a sunny bank by a clear springhead, regaling themselves an hour or two after noon, with the cold chicken and trPLAND SHOOTING. 265 the sherry wliich Peritus had recomiauiulud as tlie best i'urm of luncheon. " I liavt! ii;i(Ioul)t you are porfectly rif^ht about this, Peritus," said his tVicnd. " huku'd, the practice has proved the principle, for we have got fcjrty-five or forty-six Quail between us, out of those first four bevies, besides thirty Cock. It is glorious sport, indeed." "Not very bad, certaiidy, AgjHs ; and you have shot Wcdl too, which inclines you t > tliink of the sport, perhaps, with more than ordinary complacency. Hut mark me, if we had followed up that first bevy we should not have flushed or marked the other five, all of which, you remember, the dogs trailed as they were rambling about on the feed, before the day got warm. It would have occupied us till eleven o'clock to pick up that one bevy, had we been able to move it, which is doubtful ; and' by that time all the others would have huddled themselves away into some little dry sunny nook or o her, where it would have bee;i ten to one against our stumbling upon them. As it is, before that same hour we had stirred six bevies, four of which we have used up, while I hear the other two calling even now in that great swamp, where we will give a good account :>f them likewise, when we have finished these cigars. " Aye ! I observ^e all this, and see the sportsmanship of it, Peritus ; what noble birds, moreover, these autumn Woodcock are. All full grown birds, with fine gray foreheads, and pink legs. They must weigh one-third more each than the young- lings we slaughtered in July." " True, O king ! at least one-third more. Now, don't you think we ought to give up summer Cock shooting ?" " I never thought otherwise. What between the thermome- ter at ninety in the shade, and the myriads of mosquitoes, I do not look upon summer shooting as fit sport for any man who is not as thick-shelled as a lobster, and him it would be likely to boil." " What autumn shooting we should have, if they would but abolish summer Cock shooting, and enforce their own laws !" 266 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. " Aye! indeed, but let us on. My cigar is finished. Hush! hush ! What are those 1" " Wood-duck, by Jupiter! eight of them; and they have drop- ped in the bed of the brook, just under the big white oak tree ; they ai'e after the acorns. Keep the dogs close, good Rusticus ; now, AgiHs, cram down an Ely's cartridge in each barrel and let us steal down upon them. Try to get a sitting shot on the water first, and then give them the second barrel as they rise." " Excellent ! excellent, Peritus. I see your words are about to be made good. I have bagged a Mallard already, and you two green-winged Teal — " "And a Pin-tail," answered Peritus, " besides Grouse, Quail, Hare and Woodcock. And now we will have four or five Wood-duck ; and there are the Snipe bogs. Off with you, but keep your head down and crawl low ; the Wood-duck is not, however, a tvild Duck." Within ten minutes four barrels sent forth their contents, and five Ducks came to bag, and thence the friends went forward to the Snipe ground, where some eighteen or twenty long bills were picked up, fat, large and lazy ; and thence again into the wide deep swampy woodlands, where the yelping of the Span- iels, the flip-flap of the rising Woodcock, the whirr of the startled Quail, and the louder hurtling of the E,uffed Grouse, succeeded rapidly by the loud ringing gunshots, gave note of glorious sport until sundown, when the increasing darkness put a stop to the joyoiis labors of the unwearied sportsmen. The tale of that day's bag, and it was a real day, and a real bag, was as follows : Seven Ruffed Grouse, sixty-two Quail, forty Cock, nine- teen Snipe, nine Hares, five Wood-duck, two green-winged Teal, a Mallard, and a Pin-tail, brought to bag by two guns, in about eight hours' shooting — one hundred and sixty-six head of game, of nine different varieties. That is the best day's sport I ever saw ; I fear I never shall see such another, certainly I shall not in the same region. Nothing in the way of sport can, I think, be better, and such ..J^ ]' UPLAND SHOOTING. 267 was twelve years since within fifty miles off New- York, sucli is in the interior of the sonthern tier of counties of that State, and such is in liuiidrcds and liuiidrcds of places in the West, tlie autumn shoot iiii^ of .America. And tliat, mine Enulish readers, without a game-keeper or a preserve in all the lengtli and breadth of the land ; and, I might almost say without a game-law,* so limited is the sphere of operation of these latter, so narrow and perverse their enact- ments, and — ai)ove all — so little are they regarded. But this alas ! will soon, if not amended, abolish altogether the Field Sports of America. * At llie moment of correcting the press of this page, I learn tliat the game- law, which I mentioned above, as luiving been prepared by myself and submit- ted to the Sportsman's Club, of New- York, has been presented by petition from the counties of Rockland and Orange, has passed the Legislature of the State, and is nowZaio for those two gallant counties. There is no more summer Cock-shooting, gentlemen, in Orange or Rockland — the first two counties of America in which I ever pulled a trigger. Bravo, the river counties ! Who will be the next to follow the glorious example? Long Island, Westchester, Put- nam, Duchess — and last, not least — New-Jersey, the eyes of men are upon you! 268 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. RAIL; AND RAIL SHOOTING. keep it with uo alliance, HIS singular and delicious little bird 1-^ so peculiar in its character and ^ ^%i. 1' labor. I have entered the marsh in a batteau, at a common tide, and in a well-known haunt, have beheld but a few l)irds. The next better tide, on our resorting to the same spot, I jjerceived abundance of game. The fact is, tlie Rail dive and conceal themselves beneath the fallen reed, merely projecting their heads above the surface of the water for air, and remain in that situation u-ntil the sportsman has passed them, and it is well known that it is a common prac- tice with wounded Rail to dive to ;he bottom, and holding on to some vegetable substance, support themselves in that situation until exhausted. " During such times, the bird, in escaping from one enemy has often to encounter with another not less formidable. Eels and cat-fish swim in every direction seeking for prey, and it is ten to one if a wounded Rail esca;.e them. I myself have beheld a large eel make off with a bird that I had shot, before I had time to pick it up ; and one of my boys, in bobbing for eels, caught one with a whole Rail in its belly. I have heard it observed that on the increase of the moon the Rail improves in fatness, and deczeases in a considerable degree with that planet. Some- times I have conceited that the remark was just. If it be a fact, I think it may be exp'ained on the supposition that the bird is enabled to feed at night as well as by day, while it has the benefit of the moon, and with less interruption than at other periods. " I have had my doubts as to the propriety of classinf^ this bird under the genus RaUus. Both Latham and Pennant call it a Gallinula, and when one considers the length and formation of its bill, the propriety of the nomenclature is obvious. " As the article was commenced by our printers before I could make up my mind on the subject, the reader is requested to consider this species the Gallinula Carolina of Dr. Latham." — Wilson's American Ornithology. To set aside the possibility of continued doubt on the subject of the migration of the Rail, which really seems to be so per- 282 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. fectly a settled question, as to render it impossible that any sane man in America should persist in believing that this bird burrows and lies toi-pid in the mud — I have myself, however, met scores who do believe so — I shall quote Mr. Audubon's personal observations as to the migrations of this bird, which he has often seen with his own eyes, and no one, who has read his delightful animal biographies, will doubt how keen those eyes are, and how accurate. " This bird," he says, " which I think might have been named the Pennsylvania!! or Virginian Rail, enters the union from the shores of Mexico, early in March, when many are seen in the markets of New Orleans. Some reach their northern desti- nation by ascending along the margin of our western streams, or by crossing the country directly, in the manner of the Wood- cock ; while those which proceed along the coast shorten their joui-ney as much as possible by flying across the headlands of the numerous inlets or bays of our southern districts, returning or advancing more slowly, according to the state of the weather. Thus, those which cross the peninsula of Floiida, through the marshes and lagoons which lead to the head waters of the St. John's River, instead of travelling round the shores of Georgia and South Carolina, fly directly across toward Cape Lookout. It is nevertheless true, that a certain number of these birds follow the sinuosities of the shores, for I found some in the markets of Charleston, in April, that had been killed in the im- mediate neighborhood of that city, and I obtained others in various parts ; but the number of these is very small as com- pared with those that cross at once. When their passage takes place, either during calm weather, or Avith a favorable wind, the fortunate travellers pursue their jouiTiey by entering Pam- lico Sound, and following the ii!ner margins of the outward banks of this part of the coast until they reach Cape Henry. Thence some ascend the Chesapeake, while others make for the mouth of the Delaware, and these, perhaps, again meet on the borders of Lake Ontario, or the waters of the St. LauTence. UPLAND SHOOTING. 283 after which they soon enter those portions of the country in which they breed, and spend a short but agreeable season. " Every person acquainted with the general movements of birds, either during the spring, when they pass northward, or the autumnal months, when they are on their way to milder climes, is aware that at the former period their anxiety to reach the breeding place is much greater than that which they feel at . any other period. Thus, in its movement southward, the Sora, like all other Rails, when returning with its progeny, which are yet feeble, and unable to undergo much fatigue, proceeds considora])ly shjwer than in spring ; hence its appearance in autumn, in multitudes, in various places, where it is enticed, by an abundance of food and comparative security, to tany for some time and recruit its strength. Thus in September and part of October, the Sora is found in great numbers on the borders of our great lakes, feeding on wild oats, and on the reedy margins of the rivers of our middle districts. Several natural causes prevent birds of this species from following the seacuast of the United States while migrating, either in spring or in autumn, the principal of which is the absence of their favor- ite Zizania marshes, which are but very rarely to be met with to the east of the State of New- York. This is probably the cause of the great rarity of this species in Massachusetts, while, 80 far as I know, none are ever found to the eastward of that State. These observations are corroborated by those of my friend, Thomas McCulloch, of Pictou, who never met with one of these birds during many years' residence in that part of Nova Scotia. " Having seen flocks of Soras winging their way close over the waters of the gulf of Mexico, and between Cape Florida and the main shores of the Carolinas, in the month of Ajiril, when they were moving directly toward Cape Lookout, I have very little doubt that many return in the same track, in the end of October, when the young, well-fed and strengthened, are able to follow their parents on wing, even across that wide expanse of water. I shall now dismiss this part of tlie sub cct by add- 284 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ing in confirmation of their capability of protracted flight, that some of these 'birds, when accidentally separated from their flock, have supported themselves on vs^ing until they have met with vessels several hundred miles from land ; and facts of this kind have been announced by persons of well-known respec- tability. " During the autumnal months, a goodly number of Soras are found in the rice fields and fresh water marshes of the Carolinas. Sometimes, also, they have been shot in salt water marshes, in spring, while on their northward migration. At this period they are silent until forced to fly. In those States, none are seen during summer, very few, it appears, remain in any part of the middle districts. My friend, John Bachman, however, was shown some eggs of this bird, that had been found in the meadows below Philadelphia ; and whilst I was on a shooting expedition for Woodcock, in company with ray friend, Edward Harris, Esq., my son shot some young birds, scarcely fledged, and shortly afterward, an adult female. John Bachman met with a nest on the shores of the Hudson, and I saw two in the marshes of Lake Champlain." — Audubon^s American Ornithology. I have judged it but proper to extend both my quotations on the habits, and my own observations on the shooting of this bird, to some length, as the first are very peculiar, and the lat- ter affords a sport, which though I think it for my own part, rather a tame amusement, is still followed with much eagerness and zest by sportsmen, especially on the Delaware, and on the great Western Lakes, where the bird, as we have seen, abounds. The United States contain many other species of Rail, most of which are at times shot by the sportsman, while in pursuit ot one kind or another of aquatic fowl, but none of them are suffi- ciently abundant, in certain spots or at certain seasons, unless it be perhaps the bird commonly known as the Mud-Hen, to be made the object of especial pursuit. TTPLAND SHOOTING. 285 This bird which is, properly, The Ci.aim'er Rvii-, or Salt Water Marsh Hen, Ral- Lus Crepitans, is a constant resident at one period or other of the year, on some part of the Atlantic coasts from Long Lslaid to the Crult* of Mexico. It is a lartje-sized bird, weigliing 11 to 1 •.' o/., and looking much larger than it really is. They are shot in the hnys of liono^ Island, and still more abnndantly in the vicinity of Charkjston, much as the Sora Rail is on the Delaware ; the boats are, however, in this sport, if it can be so called — !'or the birds are large, clumsy, slow-moving and cannot be missed — propelled by oars or paddled, not by the pole. On Long Island and generally in the Middle States, this bird is called the Mud, or Meadow- Hen. The other species commonly met with by the sportsman are, The Great Red-Breasted Rail, or Fresh Water Marsh Hen — Rallus Elegans — commonly known in Pennsylvania and New-Jersey as the " King Rail." This is the largest and by far the handsomest of the tribe; its weight is about 11 to 13 oz. — its length 2Q\ inches by an alar extent of 22. It is rarely found east of Pennsylvania, although I have occa- sionally killed it in New-Jersey. It is a constant resident of the Southern States. The Virginia Rail — Rallus Virginianus. This bird greatly resembles the last species, though not much more than half its size. It is properly a Southern bird, but is found during the autumn, in small numbers along the atlantic coasts. It is killed l>oth on fresh and salt water, but is nowhere exceedingly abundant. In addition to these, I may name the common Coot of Araeii- ca, and the common Galhnule, both of this same family of Rm.lid.e. They are principally Southern birds, though strag- glers ai-e occasionally found in the Middle and EasteiTi States. They are of little worth for the sport which they afford, and still less f u- the quality of their flesh ; but like many other water birds and waders, such as the Bitterns, Herons, Egrets, and the 286 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. like, are usually killed by the sportsman, if encountered in pur- suit of other game, though never made the object of especial chase. None of these, however, can it be deemed unsportsmanlike or snobbish to shoot, while in the field, with dogs, as it is to kill Pigeons, Meadow Larks, Thrushes, or the like, since their haunts and habits are generally in some sort like game-like, and dogs will, for the most part, draw on them, if not stand them dead. None of tliese, however, require any fuller notice than the above, and hence I proceed to shooting the Sora Rail on the Delaware, tTPLAND SHOOTING. 287 RAIL SHOOTING. ROM the mitldle of August, until the setting in of winti-y frosts, the pursuit of this cuiious, and ex- cellent little bird, may be followed. m the localities which he fre- (juents, by those who care for the sport. \ It is not by any means compa- ' f"*^ rable to those kinds of shooting, which are followed with dogs in the field, among varied scenery and diverse accidents of sport; nor is the bird very sporting in its habits, nor is much skill required to shoot him. He is, however, delicious to eat ; lie literally abounds on the reedy mud-flats of those rivers which he affects ; and his season is one at which there is little or no other occupation for the sportsman. So that, between the epicurean desire for his llesh, the absence of more agreeable and exciting sport, and the very easiness of the pursuit, which, to young hands and bad sliots, is a recommendation, the Rail is very eagerly pursued ; and dur- ing those periods of the tide, which pemiit his pursuit, a stran- ger might well believe, during the Rail season, almost anywhere on the Delaware, sixty miles below, or thirty above Philadel- phia, that the outposts of two armies were engaged in a brisk skirmish, so incessant is the rattle of small arms. It is the habit of this little bird to skulk and run among the reeds and water-oats of the flats which he inhabits; and, owing to the peculiar form of his long, flat-sided, wedge-like body, with the legs situated far behind, and the wings closely com- 288 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. pressed, he can pass with such ease and celerity among the close stalks of the water-plants, that the sharpest dogs cannot compel him to take wing ; and so thoroughly is he aware of this advantage which he possesses, and. of the peril he runs in rising before the gun, that it is utterly useless to attempt beating for him with dogs on foot, or to think of walking, or kicking him up from his lurking places, when the tide is down. As soon, however, as it has risen high enough to allow a boat to be forced through the partially submerged, partially floating grass, unable to run, from want of a solid substructure on which to tread, or to swim, from the denseness of the vegetation, he has no choice but to rise, which he does reluctantly, and not until the bows of the boat are close upon him. His flioht is then slow and heavy, with the leefs hanffing: down, and the wings heavily flapping, and it is rarely protracted to above thirty or forty yards of distance. It is exceedingly easy to kill him, therefore ; so much so, that as soon as he mastered the slight difficulty of getting accustomed to the motion of the boat, and got what a sailor would call his sea legs on board, the mei'est tyro, who can cover a bird on the wing in the slowest conceivable motion, and pull an inexpert trigger, can scarce fail to bag many of these birds in succession. The boat used is a long, light, flat-bottomed, sharp-built skiff, — flat to draw as little water as possible, sharp to force its way through the heavy tangled water-plants. In the bow of this the shooter stands erect, balancing himself in the ricketty rocking egg shell, for it is little more, while the pole-man stands behind him, propelling the vessel with his long punt-pole, the more ra- pidly the better, through the weeds and grass. The pole-man's duty is to steer and urge the boat, both of which are done by the same instrument, to mark the dead birds, and collect them, and to get the advantage of all other boats for his shooter. This marking is by no means an easy task ; as the vast expanse of level green herbage affords no points, or marks, by which to identify the spot where the l^ird has fallen ; and, moreover, the reeds and grass are so thick, and ?o similar in UPLAND SHOOTING. 289 color to the plumage of the Rail, that unless it is marked with the most perfect accuracy, literally to a foot's space, it is almost uselv?s.s to look for it. So many boats, moreover, are darting about ill all directions, the rival pole-men driving their skiffs with all attainable velocity, and the emulous shooters banging away at the thick-rising birds, without much caring whether some t)ther sportsman be or be not within the range, and in the line of shot, that in order to get good sport, not a moment must be lost in bagging the dead birds, — cripples it is impossible to bag, so quickly do they dive, and so cunningly do they skulk, — and that at best it is a matter of some little risk. Fortunately, the bird is so easily killed, and the range of his flight is so small, that very light charges, and very small shot, are in use. With the recklessness I have seen displayed in this spoil, were large charges, and heavy shot used, it would be an affair of real danger to shoot at Dullman's Flats, at the mouth of the Neshaminy, or at Perkins' Flats, or Newbold's Island — the best places above Philadelphia, on the Delaware, and the only places, with the exception of a small flat, of an acre or two in extent, before my own door on the Passaic, where I have ever shot Rail. The great onus and excellence of the sport depends, as it will readily be seen, on the pole-man, or pusher, and with two equally good shots, it shall make a difference of nearly half the bag, which has the better assistant. The skill at marking dead birds, the rapidity of bagging them, and the adroitness at push- ing, to which some of these men attain, is truly remarkable ; and accustomed to the society of gentlemen, and provided with a good stock of sporting anecdote, and sporting infoiTnation, they are generally very conversable, and discreet fellows, with whom a few hours can be spent, not only without tedium, but with some profit. John Horn, of Bristol, in Pennsylvania, is the best hand of these hardy aquatics I have ever encountered, and many a good day's sport and fun have I enjoyed in his company, and under his guidance, on the broad and tranquil Delaware. 19 290 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. Tl)e time for beginning this sport depends on the depth of water on the particular flat whereon you are about to try your fortune, — the moment the rising tide will permit your boat to mn over and through the reeds, you must commence ; and your sport will continue so long as the birds will c>^\^^S3hhI ^BSKmMJ^ /: States, unless on the borders of the great lakes, this spoil of late years can hardly be said to exist at all. The birds are becoming ire and wild, and, although still shot in sufficient numbers by the local gunners, on the streams of Xfvv-.li'rsry. to su{)])ly the tlciiiand of the markets, they are not found numerous enough to justify the pursuit of the sportsman. FoiTTierly on the drowned lands of Orange county, on the meadows of Chatham and Pine Brook, on the Passaic and its tributaries, before the modern system of draining and embank- ing, hundreds, nay ! thousands of acres were annually covered with shallow water, at the breaking up of winter, and the inun- dated flats were literally blackened with all the varieties of Duck which I have heretofore enumerated, affording rare sport to the gunner, and alluring gentlemen from the larger cities to follow them wirh the canoe ; in a day's paddling of which, amon^r the inundated groves, and over the floated meadows, it was no unusual event, nor regarded in any wise as extraordinary good fortune, to kill a hundred fowl and upward of the different va- rieties, all of which, however, are alike in one respect, that they are all delicious eating. I have myself been in the habit of con- sidering the Summer Duck as the most delicate and succulent 294 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. food of the inland, as distinguished from the ocean Ducks ; but this is, I believe, owing greatly, if not entirely, to its being the best fed of its genus in the regions wherein I have been wont to eat it ; for I understand that on the great lakes, and in the Western country generally, the Blue-winged Teal is regarded as its superior in epicurean qualifications. All that hi.d of shooting is now at an end in this district of country ; and although they still abound on the great lakes, along the Canada frontier, and eastward in the British pro- vinces, the vast extent of those inland seas which they there fre- quent, renders it impossible, or at least so difficult as to become irksome, to take them, except by lying at ambush on points over which they fly, and on the woody margins of the forest streams and inlets, which they frequent for the purpose of feeding and roosting. In such localities, where streams, debouching into the great lakes, flow through submerged and swampy wood- lands, the Ducks of all kinds are wont to fly regularly land- ward, in large plumps, or small scattered parties, for an hour or two preceding sundown, — and a good shot well concealed in such a place, with a good doubl-e-gun, loaded with No. 4 up to BB, as may be the nature of his ground, and the species of his game, will frequently return from a single evening's expedition, loaded with twenty or thirty couple of wild-fowl. For this sport, however, little or no advice is needed, — a good covert, a heavy gun, and a sufficient charge, are all that can be deemed requisite to success. The sport may, however, be ren- dered both more rapid and mfire exciting, by the introduction of the large Water Spaniel, well broken to fetch, to aid as a retriever. Every true sportsman knows how much zest and enjoyment is added to every kind of field sports, by the adapta- tion to it, and the observation during its continuance, of the instinct and sagacity of trained animals ; and that of the water retriever is inferior to none. He must be trained to absolute muteness, and the most implicit obedience ; he must never stir from the spot in which he is ordered by a quiet gesture of his master's liand to crouch close — nay ! he must not prick his ear, UPLAND SHOOTING. 295 or wag his tail, lest the quick eye of the watchful Duck, or their almost iiit'allihle sense of hearing, detect either by sound or siylit tlie impationt movement. Once ordered to recover the dead, or, what is worse, tlie cripples, neither the cold of tlu! tVic/iim; lake, nor tin' namli billows of the stormy frith, must lifter him. In his j)erfeclioii lu; is, and needsmiist be, the most intelligent, and so iar as endurance! goes, the bravest of dogs ; and so Car as the fowler's ])articular sport iHKiuestionably lacks lliat variety and excitement, both of incident and pursuit, which gives the great charm to every kind of shooting or hunt- ing, it will certainly |te well to add to it the increased pleasure aflbrded by the use of the retriever. I used to suppose that the best species of dog for the Upland retriever, is the large Water Spaniel, as, undoubtedly, for sea- fowl shooting the small, sharpish-eared, St. John's Nevvfoimd- land dog is preferable to all other races. In a work which has lately come before me, however, of which I think very highly, 1 find the following observations, the correctness of which I be- lieve to be indisputable ; and I little doubt that the sort of dog here described, would be of general utility to the sportsman. The book to which I allude is " The Moor and the Loch," by Colquhonn, of Luss, who, in the sphere of wild sports, to which he has ])aid attention, is not, I think, inferior to Col. Hawker, when mounted on his hoi)by of British sea-fowling. Fi'om this liook, while on the present topic, I shall again quote ; and, without farther apology or explanation, proceed to extract liis views as to the dog most fitting as the Duck-shooter's assistant. " Next in importance to the gun," says Mr. Cohjuhoun, " is a propiM- i-etriever. The Newfoundland is not quite the thing: fiist, his black color is against him" — white, of course, is out of the (|urslion — "brown is much to be preferred; then, I should wish my dog occasionally to assist me in this inland shooting, by beating rushes, or thick cover, up creeks, where you may often plant yourself in an open situation for a shot, and your dog put up the fowl, which are almost certain to fly down past you. 296 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. If you accustomed a Newfoundland dog to this, he might, from his strength and vivacity, learn the trick of breaking away when you did not wish him. The best and most efficient kind of dog for this work, is a cross between a water-dog and large terrier ; the terrier gives him nose, the water dog coolness and steadiness. I should say, that before you can procure one which, upon trial, may prove worth the great tz'ouble of tho- roughly training, you may have to destroy half-a-dozen. You should begin your training when the dog is very young, and if you find out he is not turning out as you wish, seal his fate at once. The dog you want must be as mute as a badger, and cunning as a fox. He must be of a most docile and biddable disposition — the generality of this breed are so. They are also slow and heavy in their movements, and phlegmatic in their temper — great requisites ; but when fowl are to be secured, you will find no want either of will or activity, on land or water." Our Highland sportsman then proceeds, in allusion to the sub- ject of a wood-cut illustrating his work, which he states to be the best he ever saw, " he never gives a whimper, if ever so keen, and obeys every signal I make with my hand. He will watch my motions at a distance, when crawling after wild-fowl, ready to rush forward the moment I have fired ; and never in one instance has he spoiled my shot. I may mention a proof" of his sagacity. Having a couple of long shots across a pretty broad stream, I stopped a Mallard with each barrel, but both were only wounded. I sent him across for the birds ; he at- tempted at first to bring them both, but one always struggled out of his mouth ; he then laid down one, intending to bring the other ; but whenever he attempted to cross to me, the bird left fluttered into the water ; he immediately returned again, laid down the first on the shore, and recovered the other ; the first now fluttered away, but he instantly secured it, and standing over them both, seemed to cogitate for a moment ; then, althousrh on any other occasion he never ruffles a feather, he deliberately killed one, brought over the other, and then returned for the dead bird." UPLAND SHOOTING. 297 After proceeding to give some furtb(n- information witli re- spect to accoutrements, among others of which he expatiates on the absolute necessity of a small pocket telescope as part of the wild-fowl shooter's equipage, he gives an account in extcnso of the best method to be adopted for getting within shot of wild- fowl, when seen feeding on, or within shot, of the shores of an inland loch or pond. These, as they are of the utmost value and interest in themselves, as there are thousands of localities exactly such as he describes, in every region of the United States, from the rock-girdled, pine-embosomed lakelets of Maine and the Eastern States, to the limestone pools of the Pennsylva- nian Alleghanics, to the limpid basins set in the oak openings of Michigan and Illinois, to the gleaming waters that lie unshel- tered from the sun's brightest beams in the centre of boundless prairies, all of which, in their proper seasons are absolutely alive with wild-fowl of every description, and as to all of these, my autlior's views are distinctly and directly applicable — I shall extract without alteration or abridgment ; observing only, in addition to what I have already stated, that the species of fowl to which he has reference, are nearly in all respects identical with our own. "Having now equipped our wild-fowl shooter, we will," he says, " again bring him to the shore. His first object should be to see his game without being seen himself, even if they are at too great a distance to show signs of alarm. To eflect this he must creep cautiously forward to the first point that will com- mand a view of the shore for some distance ; then, taking out his glass, he must reconnoitre it by inches, noticing every tuft of grass or stone, to which wild-fowl asleep often bear so close a resemblance that, except to a very quick eye, assisted by a glass, the difference is not perceptible. If the loch be well frequented, he will most likely first discover a flock of divers, but must not be in a huny to pocket his glass, until he has thoroughly inspected the shore, in case some more desirable fowl may be feeding or asleep upon it. I will suppose that he sees some objects that nmy be wild-fowl. Let him then imme- 298 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. diately direct his glass to the very margin of the loch, to see if anything is moving there ; should he find it so, he may conclude that it is a flock of either Ducks,* Widgeon,t or Teal ; those first perceived resting on the shore, and the others feeding at the water's edge, of course not nearly so conspicuous.! If there is no motion at the margin of the loch, he must keep his glass fixed, and narrowly watch for some time, when, if what arrest- ed his attention he wild-fowl asleep, they will, in all prohahility, betray themselves by raising a head or flapping a wing. '' He must now take one or two large marks, that he Avill be sure to know again ; and also another, about two or three hun- dred yards, immediately above, farther inland. Having done this, let him take a very wide circle and come round upon his inland mark. He must now walk as if treading upon glass : the least rustle of a bough, or crack of a piece of rotten wood under his feet, may spoil all, especially if the weather be calm. Having got to about one hundred yards from where he suppo- ses the birds to be, he will tell his retriever to lie down ; the dog, if well trained, will at once do so, and never move. His master will then crawl fin-ward, until he gets the advantage of a busli or tuft of reeds, and then raise his head by inches to look through it for his other marks. Having seen them, he has got an idea where the birds are, and will, with the utmost caution, * When the word " Duck" is used in Engflish works without qualification, the Mallard and Duck known, in this country generally, as the " Green-head," are intended. tThe English Widgeon differs essentially from the American bird, but like it, is rather a shore bird than an inland fowl, though it is often shot up the country. t " Duck-shooting on rivers and streams is generally unsatisfactory, tliere are 80 many turnings and windings v.hich prevent you from seeing the fowl until they are close at hand, also so many tiny bays and creeks, where they conceal themselves beyond the possibility of detection, until the whirr of their wings and the croak of the Mallard betray their hiding-place. Unless the river be large and broad, even the most expert wild-fowl shooter must expect few lieavy sitting shots, and content himself with the greater number being distant flying UPI.AiND SHOOTING. "299 endeavor to catch s[r some refuge at a fair distance from the birds, through whicli he may fire the deadly sitting shot. After crawling seipent-like to this, he will again raise his head by hair-breadths, and peeping through the bush or tuft, select the greatest number of birds in line; then drawing back a little, in order that his gun may be just clear of the bush for the second barrel, after having fired the first through it, will take sure aim at his selected victims. SluMild he unfortunately not find an opening to fire through, the only other alternative is by almost imperceptible degrees to raise his gun to the rig!.t of the bush, and close to it ; but in doing this the birds are much more likely to see him and take wing. Never fire over the bush, as you are almost certain to be perceived whenever you raise your head ; more good shots are lost to an experienced hand by a rapid jerk, not keeping a sufficient watch for stragglers, and over-anxiety to fire, than by any other way. Having succeeded in getting the sitting shot, the fowl, especially if they have not seen from whence it comes, will rise perpendicularly in the air, and you are not unlikely to have a chance of knocking down a couple more with your second barrel ; but if they rise wide, you must select the finest old Mallard among them, or whatever suits your fancy. Directly upon hearing the report, your retrie\'er wiU rush to your assistance, and having secured your cripples, you will re-load, and taking out your glass, reconnoitre again ; ior though Ducks, Witlgeon, &c., would fly out upon the loch at the report of your gun, y^'t tlie diver ti-ihe,'* if there are f)nly one or two together, are perhaps moi-e likely to be under water than above when you fire ; but more of them * Tl\e divers most common to us are the BufFel-headed Duck, or Butter- Ball ; and the two varieties of Merganser, more commonly known as SkeU drakes — to wliich fowl, it does not, in truth, offer even a remote rnsemblance. The true Sheldrake Anas Tadorna, being a perfect Duck, and not a diver. 3©0 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. " Another invariable rule in crawling upon Ducks is always, if possible, to get to the leeward of them ;* for although I am firmly of opinion that they do not wind you like deer, as some suppose, yet their hearing is most acute. I have seen instances of this that I could hardly otherwise have credited. One day I got within about sixty yards of three Ducks asleep upon the shore ; the wind was blowing very strong, direct from me to them, a thick hedge forming my ambuscade. The ground was quite bare beyond this hedge, so I was obliged to take the dis- tant shot through it : in making the attempt, I rustled one of the twigs — up went three heads to the full stretch, but when I had remained quiet for about five minutes, they again placed their bills under their wings ; upon a second trial, the slight noise was unfortunately repeated : again the birds raised their heads ; but this time they were much longer upon the stretch, and seemed more uneasy. Nothing now remained but to try again ; my utmost caution, however, was unavailing, the birds rose like rockets. I never hesitate concealing myself to wind- ward of the spot, where I expect Ducks to pitch, feeling confi- dent that, imless I move, they will not find me out. I have often had them swimming within twenty-five yards of me, when * " If you have also a bright sun at your back, and in their eyes, your advan- tage is great ; but should the sun and wind favor opposite directions, let the nature of the ground decide your advance. " I was last winter shooting wild-fowl with a gamekeeper who firmly held the common notion of their keen noses. We saw a flock of about twenty pitched upon a long point, and no possibility of approaching them except directly to windward. " Now, sir," says the keeper, " if youMl stalk these Ducks so as to get a good shot, I'll never care for their noses again I" They had the full benefit of the wind as it blew pretty strong, but there was some soft snow on the ground, which I knew would prevent their hearing ; so I took him at his word, killed three with my first barrel, and had they not been intercepted by the trees and bushes, would have knocked down at least one more with my second. The keeper has said ever since that their noses are not worth a straw: my decided advice, however, is not to stalk wild-fowl to windward, if it can be avoided ; for should the snow be at all crisp with frost, or if there are many twigs and bushes to crawl through, their noses become acute enough ! I !" UPLAND SHOOTING. 301 I was waiting foi* three or four in line, the wind blowing direct from me to them, vvitliout perceiving by any signs their con- sciousness of an enemy's vicinity.* " When the weiither is very hard, and Ducks are driven to the springy drains, a simple way of getting fair shots, but seldom practised, is, to make your man keep close to the drain, and take your own place fifteen yards from it, and abput forty in advance of him. The Ducks will then rise nearly opposite to you. To walk along the drain is not a very good plan, as they will generally rise either out of distance or very long shots : and, if you keep a little way off, they may not rise at all.t When the loch is low, the sportsman may often get a capital sh(tt at Ducks, the first warni sunny days in March, f as they collect on the grassy places at the margin to feed upon the insects brought into life by the genial heat. " But to leturn to our wild-fowl shooter, whom we left glass in hand looking out for divers. He sees a couple plying their vocation fifteen or twenty yards from the shore, about half a quarter of a mile from where he stands. He selects his vantage * '■ Perhaps the sportsman may ask what it signifies whether wild-fowl are aware of your approach by hearing or winding? My answer is, that although it is of little consequence when crawling upon Ducks, yet when lying concealed, expecting them to pitch, it is a considerable advantage to know that you will not be detected by their sense of smell ; otherwise the best refuge for a shot must often be abandoned for a much worse." tTiiis plan will be found to answer admirably in this country, not when the weather is very hard, at which times the drains and small streams are frozen hard, but at all seasons when wild-fowl of any kind are marked down into any brook, stream or water-course whatever. If the stream be very tortuous, the shooter should walk parallel to it, just far enough distant not to strike any of its courses, but keeping as nearly as possible a perfectly direct course. The beater should follow every curve accurately. I have have had sport thus with Wood- duck, in many districts of the United States ; and once — the best day's inland fowl-shooting, I ever had — killed sixteen young birds, and two fine Drakes in a single morning. t For INIarch we must substitute, as regards American shooting, the corres- ponding season, according to the latitude. The period he means is the first breaking up of winter, and the commencement of mild weather. 302 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. grounJ as near as possible, for a last look before commencing his attack. Having gained this, he makes his dog lie down, and peeps cautiously until he sees the birds — waits till they both dive too-ether, then rushing forward whilst they are under water, again conceals himself, expecting their re-appearance. The o-reat difficulty is always to keep in view the exact spot where the birds come up : once lose sight of it, your progi'ess is stopped, and, in recovering your advantage, the birds are almost certain to see you and fly. When within one race of the divers, cock both ban-els, and as soon as they together disap- pear, rush to the nearest point on the shore for a shot. If rhe day be calm, the rising bubbles will show where they are ; you can then clap your gun to your shoulder, ready to fire. Always in such cases, shoot on wing, and be sure to fire well forward : should a diver only be winged, it is useless to tire your re- triever in pursuit ; but if he is at all struck about the legs also, a good dog should be able to secure him. " So much for the small Morillon.* The Golden-eyet is a stili more artful bird, and requites more caution. If, without seeing an enemy, he is at all alarmed while diving near the shore, he will probably swim out to a considerable distance; reconnoi- tering all the time, and making a noise something like a single note of the hurdy-gurdy. You may perhaps expect his return, and wait for him ; but although he may remain about the same place, making these calls, and apparently careless, he is all the time very suspicious ; and I only once or twice, in my whole experience, knew him to return to the spot where he was first discovered. Should he get sight of you, there is no hope, even if he does not take wing, which he most likely will. The little Morillon may return if you think him worth waiting for; but he is so hard and coarse on the table, that it would be paying him too great a compliment. The Golden-eye, on the contrary, is a great delicacy — a sufficient proof, I think, were there no * The small Morillon is a bird very closely resembling our Buffel -headed Duck, though not identical with it. t 1 he Golden-eye of England is the same as our own. Anas Clangula. UPLAND SHOOTING. 303 Other, that Morillons are not young Golden-eyes, as many sup- pose. This supposition, 1 hare little doubt, arises from the color of the female Golden-eye being pretty much like that of the Morillon. The shape, however, is ditterent, and the size of the female Golden-eye nearly equal to that of the male. I have shot them, right and left when diving together, the female being the most wary of the two. The Morillon may be in the same flock, as different kinds of divers often are ; but there is not halftlu' caution required to get a shot at him, and, when com- pared, he is much rounder in shape and one-third smaller in size. It may be said, 'and why should not tliis ])e the young of the same species V I answer, ' that the young males of all the Duck tribe that breed in this country, from the Mallard to the Teal, gain their bright feathers the first moulting, after which the young males are at least equal in size to the females ; but my chief reason I have already given, if the INIorillon is the young bird, why should he reverse the usual order of things, and be less tender and delicate than his parents V " When several are diving together, you must get as near as possible without alarming them ; and, selecting a couple who dive at the same moment, hoot away the others, who will be far out of reach before their companions come up. They will probably never miss them until they have taken two or three dives, thus giving you an opportunity of getting the shot; ot which you would have had a much worse chance while they were together. " In recommending this, be it observed, I am supposing- the ground of difficult access ; when favorable, even a novice should be able to get within a run of any number of fowl, without being seen by the most wary of the flock, and can then make his selection. For my own part, I hardly ever adopt this plan, but where the ground is bare and open, an unpractised wild- fowl shooter would stand no chance otherwise. " When the flock is large, it always puzzles a beginner to ascertain the length of time they are under water, in order to know what time he may safely allow for his last run, which in 304 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. such a case must generally be a long one. The fowl are conti- nually coming up and disappearing again, which confuses him, and unless he knows the depth of the water, the only way to find out how long they are under, is to watch the most marked or detached of the flock, and then choose his devoted pair. If the water is very shallow, those below are sure to perceive the flurry made by their friends at the top, as soon as you commence your last run, and instantly join them in their retreat. In such cases it is always best to try for a distant sitting shot, fmm the nearest refuge you can safely reach, among as many as you can get in line. But by attempting this, there is always a risk of losing the chance altogether, and it should never be resorted to except under such circumstances, or with Dun-hirds,* who keep more close together, and thus present a better opportunity for a heavy sitting shot than any other divers. " Of all wild-fowl, a flock of Dun-birds is the most agreea- ble to the sportsman's eye. They are the most stupidt of all the diver race. I have even seen them, after having been driven from their feeding ground, return in the face of the shooter, who had only lain down without any covering or con- cealment whatever ; they have begun diving again within thirty yards, and of course given him a capital shot. I never wish for assistance in manoeuvring any other kind of water-fowl, but these may be herded like sheep ; and, if feeding on one side of * The Dun-bird, or Pochard of England, is the same as onr Red-head, Fuli- gula Feriua, which is with ns a sea Duck, only frequenting the bays and estuaries of large rivers ; although, like the Canvass-back, it is found westward far inland, on the upper waters of the Ohio, Mississippi, and Missouri. t This agrees well with what we know of the facility with which they are toled, as it is called, by the most simple artifice, even the waving of a hand- kerchief, into gun-shot, on the waters of the Chesapeake Bay. I do not see but that this hint may be found available in Bay-shooting. I know that Brant Geese may be driven by a man rowing, at such a distance from them as not to alarm them into taking wing, up to the very muzzle of a concealed sportsman's gun. This is, I think, a recently discovered habit of the Brant ; but is now regularly acted upon, on the south side of Long Island. On the first opportu- nity I will certainly try it with Red-heads. UPLAND SHOOTING. 305 a bay, you have only to conceal yourself at the other, and send your man round to where they are divin<^. They will most likely come straight towards you, and, again beginning to feed, will probably every five or ten minutes draw all together with their heads up. Now is your time to fire, if you have the good fortune to be within shot ; but should you prefer two birds in the hand to waiting for their knitting together, you may have a capital right and left when they come up from diving : 1 how- ever, should be loath to lose the opportunity of the sitting shot. " There are many other divers that frecjuent our lochs, such as the tufted* and scaupt Ducks, &c., but they may all be ap- proached in the same way as the Golden-eye and the Morillon ; none are so shy as the former.| Those that feed on fish, such * The RiiifT-necked Duck of America. FuUgula Rufitorques. t The Scaup-duck — in the West, Flocking Fowl — on the Chesapeake, Black-head— commonly Blue -bill, or Broad-bill, FuUgula Marila. All these are propei ly Sea Ducks ; but all are found to the Westward, as in Great Bri- tain, more or less inland. \ •' L;tst winter I had a good opportunity of contrasting the artful and suspi- cious nature of the Golden-eye with that of the more coufiding ^lorillon. Whea shooting wild-fowl on the banks of the Teith, I discovered, with my glass, a Golden-eye feeding at the top of a long creek, and a couple of Morillons at the bottom where it joined the river. As they were at some distance from each other, it was impossible to keep an eye upon both. So, knowing that if the Golden-eye got a glimpse of me, he would not stay to take another, 1 was ob- liged to trust to the simplicity of the more social Morillons. I got within a fair distance for my last run, when the Morillons, who had caught a transient glance at my manoeuvres, paid the compliment of giving me their undivided attention ; but, as they did not leave the ground, nor show any other sign of alarm, I was congratulating myself that all was safe. The moment, however, that the Gol- den-eye came up from the dive, he perceived that the Morillons were resting on their oars, and instantly was on his guard. It was most curious to see the cun- ning and tact of the creature, which I had every advantage for observing, as I was well concealed. He kept cruising about, with outstretched neck, peering first on one side of the creek, then on the other, always selecting the best points of sight to halt, and make his observations. Nor would he recommence his re- past until the Morillons had set him the example. And, had I not known his usual precaution of making the first dive or two, after being scared, very short, he might even theu have escaped." 20 306 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. as the Goosander, Speckled Diver, Sheldrake, &c., require ra- ther different tactics. To get a shot at any of these, you must watch which way they are feeding, and, taking your station somewhat in advance, wait until they pass you ; they will not keep you long, as they are very rapid in their movements. Take care that the water is pretty deep where you place yourself, or they ma)'^ dive at too great a distance from the shore for a shot ; but, after all, they are good for nothing but to be stuffed for a collection. " The only other bird that requires a separate notice is the mighty Hooper,* monarch of the flood. To get a shot at the Wild Swan is the great object of the sportsman's desire : he is not naturally so shy a bird as the Wild-duck, but still his long neck, and acute sense of hearing, render gi'eat caution neces- sary. If, as often happens, he is feeding along the shore, you have only to plant yourself in an advantageous situation a good way a -head, and it will not be long before he makes his appear- ance ; but if he is feeding at the mouth of some brook or stream, you must crawl in the same way as when after Wild-ducks. Should you get within a distant shot of a Hoopei, and are not close to the water side, instead of filing from where you are, rush down to the edge of the loch, and before the Swan can take wing, you will have gained ten yards upon him. When the thaw begins after very hard weather, they are almost sure to be feeding at the mouths of any mountain bums that run into the loch. Should you see Hoopers feeding greedily, nearly out of range of your gun, in place of taking the random shot, iry to prevent their being disturbed, and return at dusk of evening, or grey of morning, when they will most likely have come pretty close to the shore, especially if any little rivulets run into the loch near : this rule applies to most water-fowl. If a Swan be * This is a different bird from tlie Swan of tlie Chesapeake, Cycmts Ameri- c«nws, though closely cognate. Onr bird never. I fancy, betakes himself to lakes, or the like, within the limits of the United States, though he is said to do «o in the far West, beyond the Missis:..ppi and Rocky Mountains UPLAND SHOOTING. 307 alarmed by an enemy on shore, his wont is not to fly, but to swim majestically away. " Wido^eoii* and Teal are approached in the same way v. < "Wild-ducks, only the Widgeon are less shy than the Ducks, anl the Teal than the Widgeon. You may sometimes, in calm weather, see Widgeon in a large flock purring and whistling a couple of hundred yards from the shore ; you need give your- self no trouble about them, as they will probably not leave their resting-place until they feed in the evening. Always try to get a heavy shot at Widgeon, which, with a little patience, you may generally accomplish. Teal are usually in small flocks; so that, if you can get two or three in line, you had better fire, for fear of losing the sitting chance altogether. I once killed six at a shot ; but, except when they collect in small ponds and drains about the loch-side, so good an opportunity seldom oc- curs. I have occasionally seen Shovellers on our lochs ; but only in the hai'dest winters. They resemble Wild-ducks in their habits : the only one I ever shot was among a flock of Ducks. " Good sport need never be expected when the loch is large, as many of the fowl swim up creeks, and among the morasses in shore, where it is difficult even to get a flying shot ; while those that remain on the margin of the loch are so concealed by the bushes, &c., that it is quite impossible to see them. The lower the loch the better ; at all events, the shore should bo clearly defined. At such times wild-fowl have always favorite haunts for feeding and resting. " There is a common saying, that specimens of all the diffe- lent kinds of water fowl which frequent the loch in winter, pre- sent themselves during the hai-\'est moon. This is erroneous ; for even the Morillon, earliest of the diver tribe, seldom appears so soon, and the Tufted and Scaup Ducks, Dun-birds, &;c., never * A ditTereut bird, though not unlike our Widgeon, Arum Amcricnnn, tho Bald-jiate. It is worthy of notice, thiit the Widgeon of tiie Chesapeake is con- sidered the shyest aud most difficult to tole, of all the Ducks which frequent those waters. 308 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. until the winter sets in * Multitudes of Wild-ducks do come down from the moors, during harvest, to feed upon the corn- fields on the banks of some of the larger lochs, and, when the stubble becomes bare, return to the moor-lochs until these are fi-ozen over, which again drives them back. This is the only foundation for the vulgar error. A day or two is generally sufficient to freeze over these little lochs, and their occupants then come down to the larger ones, the greater parts of which remain open long after the storm has set in. Now is the time for the wild-fowl shooter : if the ground is covered with snow, so much the better. The fowl are then in groups close to the shore, pinched with cold, and hunger, seeking shelter and a scanty morsel. If at the same time it is windy, with drifts of snow, no weather can be more propitious for Ducks, Widgeon, Teal, and all wild-fowl that feed at the margin. When the snow is falling thick and fast, a capital sitting shot may some- times be obtained, though the ground be so bare as to offer no concealment. In most cases, however, it is best not to take the cover off your gun till the shower moderates a little, as snow is 80 apt to penetrate, and. make it miss fii'e. " If the weather be open, the higher the wind the better, as it drives to the shore whatever fowl are upon the loch, although until the frost sets in they will be comparatively few. " The most auspicious weather for divers is one of those frosty days, accompanied by mist, when the loch is perfectly calm, and looks like a mirror dimmed by one's breath. You may then hear their plash in the water — sometimes even before they can be seen — and, if care is taken to make no rustliiig among the bushes, when they are above the water, you have every pros- * These obsen'ations on the seasons of these birds in Great Britain, might, perhaps, have been omitted ; but I consider the whole of this extract so very able and correct, that, taking into consideration the vast extent ami variety of latitude covered by the shooting grounds of America, in some of which the cli- mate closely resembles that of England, I have not been able to prevail on my- self to omit it ; as I doubt not there are places at which the cap will be found to fit, and the hints of consequence to be useful. UPLAND SHOOTING. JU» * pect of a good chance. The smoothness of the surface and the mist makes each biiil a[){)(ar twice as large as it is, which ena- bles you much more easily to catch sight of them coming up from the dive. The mist is also an excellent shroud, if the ground is open, wltliout a bush or tuft of reeds to hide behind, when tlie l)h-ds are al)()ve water. '• TIk- wild-fowl shooter must never forget, that true proof of his skill cMiusists in obtaining sitting shots, and stopping a num- bei of fowl at one discharge; and, unless with divers, must not think of a flying right and left. " As an instance of what may be done by patience and cau- tiori, I may conclude this paper by mentioning, that the game- keeper of a relation, having seen a flock of Ducks pitched upon the shore, and no way of getting near them but over a bare field, crawled Hal uj)on his face a distance of three hundred yards, pushing his gun before him, not daring: even to raise his head, and at last got within such ftiir distance, that he stopped four with his first barrel, and one with the other, securing them all. His gun was only a small fowling-piece. I should add that he had been trained to deer-stalking, under his father, from a boy." It may, perhaps, be thought worthy of remark, that this is the single quotation which I shall offer to my readers from any English author, as regards the mode of beating for, pursuing, or killing any kind of game. When I come to treat of gun- nery, the breeds, breaking, diseases, and treatment of dogs, and the like topics, it is on British sporting authors especially, almost exclusively, that I shall rely ; but, in fact, the game of America is so different, the places and modes of taking it so much at va- riance, and the habits of the few animals of chase, which are nearly allied in the two countries, are so completely distinct from those of England, that the precepts of the best English sporting writers are iiseless here. Of Col. Hawker's great work, above half — which half was very properly rejected by its able American editor — relates to fowl shooting, and fowling 310 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. apparatus, as practiced and adopted on the coast of England, all which would be of no more use to a sportsman here, than a treatise on archery of the fourteenth century to a Kentucky rifleman. The above extracts are practical, and applicable to any and every country, and cannot fail to be found generally useful. The only other observations to be made on Upland fowl shooting, relate to the quality of gun most adapted to the sport, and the size of shot, grain of powder, and the like, which are, of course, all more or less different from those uied in Upland shooting for ordinary game. To a person living in a country where this sport can be rea- dily and often pursued, and who is an amateur in it, a gun espe- cially made for the purpose is indispensable. It must be a double-barrel, and as heavy as can conveniently be earned ; the more metal, the less recoil, and the greater force of propul- sion ; extreme length is utterly useless — nay, detrimental ! — for a gun of four feet baiTel must either be unmanageably pon- derous, or must be so light at the breech as to become top-heavy. All that is requisite is a gun that will throw from two to three ounces of No. 3 or 4 shot, very strong, and very regularly dis- tributed. For any ordinary purpose, two ounces of shot is suffi- cient ; and in my opinion the gun which will do that as effec- tively as any that can be made, is one of 12-guage, 36 inches baiTel, and 9 to 10 lbs. weight. A gun of this kind can be fur- nished by Mr. MuUin, of Barclay street, New- York, next door to the " Spirit of the Times" office, for a hundred dollars, of ex- cellent quality ; and I only give an opinion on which I have acted, and not been disappointed, when I say that I would ra- ther have a gun of his workmanship made to my order, for any price not exceeding one hundred and fifty dollars, than any im- ported gun at the same rate. The high qualities of English guns are not to be surpassed, but cannot be furnished by any first-rate maker short of — appur- tenances included — <£56. This, with 30 perct. ad valorcjn duty added, shipping charges, &c., will amount to a very large price. UPLAND SHOOTING. 311 Nevertheless, I say, if any man be disposed to go to the trouble of importing an English gun at all, let him import a first-rate and first price London article. I never saw a Birmingham gun I would have caved to shoot witli ; and I do not considi;r that Westley Richards' merits at all equal his reputation. I consider Purdey, Lancaster, and Moore and Gray, the first throe makers of the day ; and were I offered the gift of a gun, with the choice of the maker, I should name the latter house as my makers. No. 4 shot I consider quite large enough for any kind of fowl, unless Canada Geese, or Wild Swans ; but I would al- ways use a green Elcy's cartridge in one barrel. The best powder, beyond all question or comparison, for fowling, and es- pecially 6(?a shooting, is what is called Hawlcer's Ducking Powder, prepared by Curtis and Hai-\'ey, as the diamond grain of the same house is by all odds the quickest, strongest, and cleanest powder in the world. The grain of the ducking powder is ex- tremely coarse — coarser than cannon powder — and very hard ; it is not, therefore, liable to become damp or liquefied, when exposed to a saline atmosphere. Notwithstanding the large size of its grain, it is readily ignited even in a small gun, by one of Starkey's central fire wateqi roof caps. One of these, for an experiment, I kept forty-eight hours in a tumbler full of water, and it exploded quickly and cleanly. There is nothing like them, — but, like all good things, they are dear. For the rest, a person who cares to keep but one gun, will find himself able to do good work with a general shooting piece of 14-guage, 32 inches barrel, and 8 lbs. weight, even at fowl, if he uses No. 4, Eley's wire cartridges. Verbum saj). And so adieu to Upland shooting. 19 312 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. SPORTING DOGS S without the aid of well bred and well broke dogs no game can be either successfully or sci- entificallly pursued, and as in the management of this noble ani- mal both in the kennel and the field consists, perhaps, the great- er part of the true science of woodcraft, no work on field sports can be esteemed in any- wise complete, which does not treat of their breeds, character- istics and general treatment ; whether in health, in sickness, in the house, or in the field. This portion of my subject, I there- fore, n:)\v approach, without farther obseiTation than this, that neither a complete history of canine pathology, nor a full treatise on dog-breaking must be looked for within the limits of such a book as this, and that a few general directions and hints only can be afforded on a topic which has itself occupied many volumes, devoted to it entirely by writers of competent talent and experience. Two of these, more especially, should be found in every sportsman's library, I mean Youatt on the Dog, and Blaine's Canine Pathology. Of the first of these works a handsome edition has been recently published by Messrs. Lea & Blan- UPLAND SHDOTING. 313 chart! of Philadelphia, under the editorial supervision of E. J. Lewis, M. D., of that city, a gentleman who has perform- ed his part with creditable accuracy, diligence and research ; and, whose fondness for the animal in question, and his long study of its pt'ciiliarilics, entitle his oliserva ions to respectful attention; although to some of his views, especially in regard to breeding and races, I must enter my dissent. The latter hook has never, T believe, been republished in America, but the English editi.)n is not costly, and may be obtained from any considerable bookseller in the United States. With these two guides and text-books in his possession the sportsman will be little at a loss in regard either to the diagnosis or treatment of diseases, which he must perforce attend to personally in this country, as veterinary surgeons are neither numerous nor skilful, generally speaking, even in the larger cities, while in the country districts they are not ; and even where they are, canine pathology is little understood or professed by them. To proceed at once then in mcdias res, the races of sporting dogs used in upland shooting, are three in number, the Setter, the Pointer and the Spaniel, and of each race several varieties are in use, all being of the division known as sagaces, being distinguished by their qualities of instinct and powers of scent- ing, in contradistinction to speed or ferocity. Of these the best known, and most generally used, and I must think with justice, as superior in beauty, endurance and aptitutle to our climate and style of shooting, is THE SETTER. The origin of this beautiful and admirable species is beyond a doubt, the large land Spaniel improved by judicious breeding to his peculiar size and beauty, and taught, until teaching has become second habit, and the result of training gi'own into an hereditary instinct, to mark his game by setting or crouching, instead of flushing it on the instant. 314 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. A great deal of absurd nonsense has been written about the breed and race of the Setter, from the mass of which I shall select the following passage for two reasons, first that it reaches the very climax of possible stupidity, and second, that it is from the pen of one who should know better, at least to merit the reputa- tion he has acquired ; being no other than the person who has gained very considerable celebrity as the author of" The Sports- man in France," " The Sportsman in Ireland and Scotland," and " The Spoitsman in Canada." After stating that the Setter is his favorite dog in the field, and decidedly the most useful for general shooting in France," Mr. Tolfrey actually proceeds to give the following receipt for jviAKiNG A BREED OF SETTERS, forgetful, apparently, that it is very unnecessary to set about making, what nature has already made in perfection to our hand, and c^uite ignorant, it should seem, that it is impossible to make a pure strain from any com- bination of crosses. There is no doubt whatever that the true Setter is a pure strain of unmixed Spaniel blood, the only improvement produced in the breed arising from its judicious cultivation, by the selection of the largest, healthiest and hand- somest individuals of both sexes from which to rear a progeny, and by the careful development of their qualities, by scientific feeding, exercising, and bringing into condition. The following receipt may therefore make a useful mongrel, but can no more make a Setter, than crossing a Quagga, a Zebra and a Cana- dian pony — all varieties of the horse breed — can make a thorough-bred. " The preliminary step," he says, "is to put a fine bred and unexceptionable P obiter bitch to a noted Foxhound ; you will then have laid the foundation of three essential qualities, speed, nose and courage. Docility and sagacity are also requisites, and to obtain them cross the offspring with the small and slender race of Newfoundland dog. The produce will be as near perfection as possible ; they will take to the water, re- tiieve, and for general shooting will be found the very best and most useful animal the sportsman can desire." UPLAND SHOOTING. 315 I quote the above as I have said, merely to caution the sportsman against giving the least heed to any such stuff", and to warn him to avoid any crossing or intermixture of breeds as he would the plague. If ho prefer the Pointer, let him stick '-''-' ■• to Pointer, but let it be a Pointer pure. If Setter, let him do/-/ ' •'- }\ the same. Any mixture, even of those two kindred bloods is ^ litt in nine cases out of ten, disadvantageous, and instead of com-, ^~i bining the peculiar excellencies, the produce is very apt to / unite the worst qualities of the several strains, superadded to a 'n <'-* sullenness and badness of temper, which is in some sort, the ;'j , ,^ ^^ characteristic of all mules. , ' Mr. Lewis is under the impression, as I gather from his '^' ^ comments on Yoiuitt, that it is the fashion in England, to ff-i* intermix Setter and Pointer blood, by way of imprcwing the former, and that the majority of English Setters has been so intermingled intentionally, with the idea that the qualities of the animal are improved thereby. This idea is utterly eiToneous ; for, although doubtless much ' J ^ Setter blood has been thus vitiated, no persons priding them- selves on their kennels, or fanciful, not to say scientific, about ^ their breeds of dogs, would admit one of these mongrels into S «> •their establishment, much less breed from him. Such an inter- ^^ / mixture is regarded as decidedly a taint, as a strain of cock-tail , ', • J ' til blood in the pedigree of a thorough-bred horse. And veiy '-^- 1^ many noblemen and gentlemen pay as much attention to their ^) f.L.,yf breeding kennels, and their peculiar and private strains of Pointers and Setters, as others do to the breeding and rearing of the race horse. The Pointer is a 7/iade dog, that is to say, he is not of an original or pure breed, traceable to any one variety, nor has he " been kno^^^l to the sj^orting world for any considerable length ,''M' of time. The Spaniel is first mentioned, and that in his / improved form as a Setter, i. e. taught to couch, in a MS. work ' written by the grand huntsman to Edward the Second, so long t h-^ ago as A. D. 1307, whereas the Pomter was not known in the' ' ■ - ^n^ sixteenth century, and probably has not existed in his present ^ ^. 316 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. improved forai, for much above a hundred years. He was known originally as the Spanish Pointer, and was probably first reared in that country, to which his peculiar capacity for endu- ring heat and the want of water singularly adapts him. It appears probable that he is an improved or altered form of the Foxhound, bred and trained to stand instead of chasing his game, and to repress his cry ; and it is generally supposed that this was effected and his present type obtained by crossing the Foxhound with the Spaniel. I cannot say that I believe this to be the case, as I cannot see by what analogy the crossing a feather-sterned dog, such as the Hound, with one entirely rough and silky-haired, like the Spaniel, should result in the produc- tion of d race, the characteristic of which is the closest and most satin-like of coats, and the whip-like tail of a rat. I am inclined myself to believe that the original stock is from the Foxhound, and smootli-haired Danish or Pomeranian dog, crossed perhaps again with Spaniel, but so slightly as to show few of its charac- teristic points. The Pointer being, as I have said, originally a cross-bred dog, sportsmen continued to mix his blood occasi- onally to obtain different qualities, to a late period, and even now Foxhound blood is occasionally added, in order to give dash and courage. I should not be sui-prised to find that a cross of the Bull-dog had been introduced, as it was advantageously into the Greyhound by Lord Orford, though I have found no mention of the fact — but the type of the animal is now firmly established, and the finest breed reproduces itself in its finest strain, if purely bred. The cross breeding, which I have named, has never been allowed with regard to the Setter, however, except by some ignorant or prejudiced keeper, or some person desirous of pre- serving, by this unnatural union, some qualities of a favorite individual of either strain. In any well-kept kennels a chance litter from a Setter bitch by a Pointer dog, or vice versa, would undoubtedly be condemned to the horse-pond, and with Irish sportsmen, who are very choice of their Setters, a cross even with the English Setter would be regarded as a blemish. UPLAND SHOOTING. 317 The Setter is too well known in this country to require a particular description, it may be well, however, to call tlie attention to some of those points, which peculiarly indicate purity of breed ; the first of these is undoubtedly the nature of his coat, which, in the finest and purt\st strain, is loni^, sleek and wavy, but not curlij, even upon the ciest and ears — a ten- dency to curl indicatino^ an admixture of the Water Spaniel — it should be as soft, and almost as fine and glossy as floss silk, and on his stern and along the back of his legs should exjiand into a fringe known technically as the feathering, often oi" many inches in extent. The head should be broad between the eyes, with a high bony process or ridge at the hinder extreiiiity of the skull, between the ears, which is by many sportsmen thought to indicate the degree of the animal's olfactory powers. There should be rather a deep indenture between the eyes; the nose should be long rather than broad, and somewhat tapering, with soft, moist, well-expanded nostrils, and above all things, a hlack nose and palate, with a full, licjuid, dark and singularly expressive eye. The best breed is not very tall or bulky, and the great, heavy-shouldered, coarse, square-headed, club-tailed, fleecy brutes which are generally called Setters, in this country, are probably the result of some such cross as that recommended by Mr. Tolfrey, on the original Setter stock. The best and most useful dog is of medium height, very deep- chested and high-withered, what we should call in a horse, well coupled, or closely ribbed up, and very strong and broad across the loins. The legs should be straight, and the longer to the knee and hock joints, and the shorter thence to the pasterns the better. The feet should be hard, round, and cat-like, and Avell provided with ball and toe tufts, which are of great effi- cacy in protecting the feet from becoming sore, either from wet and ice, or from hard, stony, or stubby ground. Their action, wlien in movement, is very lithe and graceful, the stern is carried liigh, and constantly feathered, and it is a good sign if the head is likewise carried high, and if the dog simft'the air when scent- mg his game, rather than stoop his nose to the gi-ound, and 318 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. puzzle for his scent, which habit is often the result of a defi- ciency in his olfactory power. In my opinion, the Setter is infinitely preferable to the Pointer everywhere, unless in dry, barren plains, where water is not to be had; as in such places the Pointer can hunt well on an allowance of fluid, on which a Setter could not exist. The Pointer is more docile, it is true, and has, perhaps, a finer nose, thougli I think his extreme caution, rather than superior scent- ing qualities, has led to the idea of his superiority in this res- pect. These qualities are, however, counterbalanced by so many other points of superionty on the part of the Setter, that I must decidedly give him the palm over his rival, aTid espe- cially for this country, in which I am perfectly satisfied that one brace of Setters will do as much work, and that work more sa- tisfactorily, than two brace of Pointers, hunted steadily through the season, week in and week out. Individual Pointers may be, and have been, of rare excellence, but as a race they cannot compete with the Setter. For a mere tyro, who does not know how to control his dogs, or for one who lives in a city, and takes his dog out five or six times in a year only, a Pointer is un- doubtedly preferable — for, without work, a Setter is apt to be headstrong and wild — but for the every-day shot, the all-day- long shot, the rougij.-and-tumble, eager, scientific, keen sports man, rely upon it the Setter is the dog. Of the Setter, there are three principal varie'ies. The English Setter, which is the animal commonly in use in this country, too well known to need peculiar description, of which the points described above are the piincipal characteris- tics. He is found of all colors — black, black and wl.ite, black and tan, pure white, liver, liver and white, orange or red, and yellow and white spotted ; and of all these colors he is found good ; indeed, as of the horse, it may be said, that a good dog cannot be of a bad color. Nevertheless, I am apt to think that liver color is apt to indicate a predominance of Pointer, or Water Spaniel blood, though take him altogether, the best dog I ever owned was liver and white, and so curly about the liead that I UPLAND SHOOTING. 319 sometimes suspected a Spaniel cross. A chocolate-colored nose I look upon as very suspicious, and a flesh-colored, or white nose, I think indicative of softness of constitution. The iRisfi Setter is either pure red, or red and white, or yellow and white spotted. His nose, lips, and palate, are inva- riahly l)lack. His coat is somewhat more wiry, and his frame more bony and muscular than the English dog. He is the har- diest and most dauntless of the race, and, though apt to be some- what unmanageable and headstrong, if he is sufficiently worked, and managed with a tight hand, these faults can be kept down, while liis indomitable pluck, his rapidity, his perseverance, and his dasli, render him, in my opinion, for the real hard-working sportsman, preferable to his English brother. The Scotch and Welsh Setters are in no i-espect distinct varietirs, and only differ from the English, as being inferior in purity of blood. The Irish dog is unthjubtedly the original type of the Setter in Great Britain. The Russian Setter is, however, clearly a distinct variety; and it is a little remarkable tliat this race has never been des- cribed in any American woi'k, and that Mr. Youatt, and his editiir, Dr. Lewis, seem to be alike unaware of its existence. It is rather taller than the English dog, and is very muscular and bony. The head is very much shorter and rounder than that of any other Setter, and is covered with such a fleece oV coarst" woolly hair, that unless it is clipped away from the brows, the animal can scarcely see. Tin; whole body is covered by a coat o ' 1 ing, thick, woolly fleece, hanging in elf-locks knotted together, of many inches in length, as curly, though six times as Ioul;, as those of the Water Poodle. Its olfactory powers are of the viTV highest order, its docility and sagacity unequalled, and its courage in facing briars or water, its endurance of cold and fatigue, are such as to entitle it, in my opinion, to the first place of the whole race. It makes an admirable retriever, and woul 1, I think, suit this country beyond any dog with which I am ac-(iuainted, though I have never seen one in America. It is less handsome than the English and Irish breeds, but its qua- 320 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. lities are first-rate. They aie more common in the North than in the South of England, and are much used on the moors. The Duke of Devonshire had, when I was in England, and I believe keeps to this day, this fine variety in its purity ; and in my boy- hood, my father, the late Dean of Manchester, had some excel- lent dogs of the Russian breed, one of which, Charon, was the best dog, far or near, over which I ever have drawn a trigger. As the excellence of the Setter or Pointer is a mooted ques- tion, and one of great utility and impmtance to the sportsman, I am not willing to rely solely on my own judgment therein, and have, on this account, extracted from the American edition of Youart, Dr. Lewis' opinion of the merits of the Setter, com- pared WITH THOSE OF THE PoiNTER. " It cannot for a moment be doubted," he says, " that the Setter has superior advantages to the Pointer, for hunting over our uncleared country, although the Pointer has many qualities that recommend him to the sportsman, that the Setter does not possess. In the first place, the extreme hardiness and swiftness of foot, natural to the Setter, enables him to get over much more ground than the Pointer, in the same space of time. Their feet also, being more hard and firm, are not so liable to become sore from contact with our frozen ground. The ball-pads being well protected by the Spaniel toe-tufts, are less likely to be wounded by the thorns and burs with which our woods are crowded during the winter season. His natural enthusiasm for hunting, coupled with his superior physical powei"s, enables him to stand much more work than the Pointer, and oftentimes he appears quite fresh upon a long-continued hunt, when the other will be found drooping and inattentive. " The long, thick fur of the Setter, enables him to wend his way through briary thickets without injury to himself, when a similar attempt on the part of a Pcinter, would result in his ears, tail and body being lacerated and streaming witli blood. " On the other hand, the Pointer is superior to the Setter in retaining his acquired powers for hunting, and not l-eing natu- rally enlhusiastic in pursuit of game, he is more easily broken and kept in proper subjection. UPLAND SHOOTING. 321 " The Setter frequently requires a partial rebreaking at the commencement of each season, in his younger days, owing to the natural eagerness with which he resumes the sport. The necessity of this, however, diminishes with age, as the charac- ter and habits of the d g become more settled, and then we may take them into the field, with a perfect assurance of their be- having quite as well on the first hunt of the season, as the staunchest Pointer would. " The extreme caution, and mechanical powers of the Pointer in the field, is a barrier to'his flushing the birds, as is often wit- nessed in the precipitate running of the Setter, who winds the game, and frequently overruns it, in his great anxiety to ^orae up with it. But this occasional fault on the part of the Setter, may be counterbalanced by the larger quantity of game that he usually finds in a day's hunt, owing to his enthusiasm and swdft- ness of foot. Setters require much more water while hunting than the Pointei-, owing to their thick covering of fur, encou- raging a jrreater amount of insensible perspiration to fly off than the thin and short dress of the Pointer. Consequently they are bei ter calculated to hunt in the coldest seasons than early in our falls, which are frequently quite dry and warm. " A striking instance of this fact came under our own imme- diate observation this fall, when shooting in a range of country thinly settled, and uncommonly dry. The day being warm, and the birds scarce, the dogs suffered greatly from thirst, inso- much that a very fine Setter, of uncommon bottom, was forced to give up entirely, completely prostrated, foaming at the mouth in the most alarming manner, breathing heavily, and vomiting from time to time a thick frothy mucus. " His prostration of both muscular and nervous powers was so great, that he could neither smell nor take the slightest notice of a bird, although placed at his nose. He could barely manage to drag one leg after the other, stopping to rest every few mo- ments, and we were fearful that we should be obliged to slioul- der and carrj' him to a farm-house, a considerable distance off. However, he succeeded, with much difficulty, in reaching the 21 322 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. well, where he greedily drank several pints of water, adminis- tered to him with caution. " He recovered almost immediately, gave me a look of thanks, and was off to the fields in a few moments, where he soon found a fine covey of birds. " The Pointer, his associate in the day's work, and a much less hardy dog, stood the hunt remarkably well, and seemed to suffer little or no inconvenience from the want of water. The Setter has natural claims upon the sportsman and man gene- rally, in his affectionate disposition, and attachment to his mas- ter, and the many winning manners he exhibits towards those by whom he is caressed. " The Pointer displays but little fondness for those by whom he is surrounded, and hunts equally as well for a stranger as his master." In this testimony in behalf of the Setter, on the part of an American gentleman, of scientific, no less than sportsmanlike attainments, I shall add the following quotation from " Craven's Recreations in Shooting," a very clever English work — in which, by the way, I find myself quoted, without credit, as an American sportsman, concerning our field sports — in which the question is fully debated, and the excellence of the Russian Setter upheld by competent authority. " Having now disposed," says Craven, " of that which by a slight license, may be termed the poetry of shooting, before en- tering upon its mere household stuff, allusion comes in aptly to its intellectual agents. Although as a principle, we have re- commended the use of the Pointer in especial to the young dis- ciple of the trigger, the first place, among shooting dogs, must be awarded to the Setter. Tn style and dash of ranging, in courage, and capacity of covering ground ; in beauty of form, and grace of attitude ; in variety of color, and elegance of cloth- ing, no animal of his species will at all bear comparison with him. As the respective merits of the Pointer and the Setter, however, have long been a mooted question among sportsmen, UPLAND SHOOTING. 323 we have much pleasme in laying before the reader the opinion on this subject of one of the most experienced authorities in England. We speak of Mr. Lang, the well-known gunmaker of the Haymarket, to whom we are indebted for the subjoined letter to that interesting inquiry : — " ' Having had considerable experience in breeding from some of the first kennels in England, Ireland, and Scotland — amongst them those of the late Duke of Gordon, Captain Ross, Mr. Os- baldeston, and other celebrated sportsmen ; and having also spent many years, and much money, in the endeavor to produce a supe- rior description of Pointers and Setters, an account of my pro- gress may be useful. I begin with my opinions concerning Pointers, by stating where I consider them superior, and where inferior, to Setters. " ' Pointers are better for Partridge* shooting, as they are milder in disposition, more tractable, and closer rangers ; the latter a property of all others the most desirable, if you want to kill birds after the first fortnight in the season. They want also less water than Setters, who often suffer much in hot weather, in districts where it is not to be found. True, Pointers require more walking to, to beat their ground properly ; but I am per- .suaded, that if, instead of racing through the middle of a field, as though they were walking for a wager, and thus giving their dogs no earthly chance, young sportsmen were to go slower than they generally do, they would do more justice to them- selves, their dogs, and their preserves. Few Pointers can stand work on the moors — where the cream of all shooting is to be had — unless they have been bred, or have been regularly worked on them. I know many gentlemen who greatly prefer them, when so bred, to Setters; but Scotch Pointers are not so highly * It mii^t be remembered that this quotation is from an Enaflish book, and that the English Partridge is the bird spoken of above, there hein^ no Partridge in America. The argument held above, would be perfectly applicable to Quail shooting, were Quail only found in the open, but as they betakw tliemselves, as soon as flushed, to the densest covert, the Setter is here, more than anywhere, in the ascendant. 324 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. bred as south-country dogs, and therefore more calculated for rough work. Many are crossed with the Foxhound, which gives them speed and courage as well as hardness of foot ; hut the produce of the first cross is generally too high-mettled to be managed with ease, being difficult to break from running Hares, or to down-charge ; and, for the most part, very hard-mouthed. You may reckon on six days out of every twelve being rainy in the Highlands ; the wet, and injuries from burnt heather, &c., cause the Pointer soon to become foot-sore, particularly between the toes, as he has no hair to protect his feet, like the Setter. High-bred Pointers are also delicate in their appetites, and wiil not eat the Scotch meal at firet. Gentlemen should have plenty of greaves sent to their shooting quarters to mix with it, as meat can seldom be had in the remote Grouse coun- tries. They should give orders that their dogs should be fed immediately on their return from the hills, and their feet care- fully washed with salt and water : indeed, if gentlemen saw to those things themselves, they would find their account in it, observing that such dogs as would not feed well were never taken out the following day. ' A stitch in time saves nine,' is a good wholesome maxim. " ' I now proceed to speak of the Setter. The Irish Setters are very beautiful both in and out of the field ; but so hot-head- ed, that unless always at work, and kept under very strict discipline, they constantly spoil sport for the first hour, frequent- ly the best in the whole day. I have shot to many, and found them all pretty much alike. I had one, the history of whose bad and good qualities would fill half-a-dozen pages. As long as I kept him to regular hard woi-k, a belter never entered a field : I refused forty guineas for him, and shot him a month afterwards for his bad deeds. I bred from him, out of an English Setter bitch, and some of the produce turned out very good ; one of them I shot to myself for eight seasons : my reasons for parting with him I will presently explain. Unless to throw more dash into my kennel, I should never be tempted again to become master of an Irish Setter. Frequently, Partridges are driven UPLAND SHOOTING. 325 into gorse or low cover, in the middle of" the day, which few Pointers will face. I know it is not the fashion to shoot to dogs in cover ; but most true sportsmen prefer shooting five brace of pheasants to Setters or mute Spaniels, to fifty brace to beaters. In the latter case you stand sometimes an hour together without getting a shot; and then they rise a dozen at a time, like bai-n- door fowls, and as many are killed in a few hours as would serve for weeks of fair shooting. " ' In the season of 1839 I was asked for a week's shooting into Somersetshire, by an old friend, whose science in everything connected with shooting is first-rate. Then, for the first time for many years, I had my dogs, English Setters, beaten hollow. His breed was from pure Russian Setters, crossed by an English Setter dog, which some years ago made a sensation in the sporting world, from his extraordinary peiformances ; he belonged to the late Joseph Manton, and had been sold for a hundred guineas. Although I could not but remark the excel- lence of my friend's dogs, yet it struck me, as I had shot over my own old favorite Setter — who had himself l)eat many good ones, and never before been beaten — for eight years, that his nose could not have. been right, for the Russians got three points to his one. I therefore resolved to tiy some others against them the next season ; and having heard a gentleman, well known as an excellent judge, speak of a brace of extraordinaiy dogs he had seen in the neighborhood of his Yorkshire moors, with his recommendation I purchased them. I shot to them in August ]S40, and their beauty and style of performance were spoken of in terms of praise by a correspondent to a sporting paper. In September I took them into Somersetshire, fully anticipating tliat I should give the Russians the go-by; but I was again disappointed. I found, from the wide ranging of my dogs, and the noise consequent upon their goin^ so fast through stubbles and turaips — particularly in the middle of the day, when the sun was powerful, and there was but little scent — that they constantly put up their birds out of distance ; or, if they did get a point, that the game would rarely lie till we could get 326 FKAKK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. to it. The Russians, on the contrary, being much closer rangers, quartering their ground steadily — heads and tails up — and possessing perfection of nose, in extreme heat, wet, or cold, enabled us to bag double the head of game that mine did. Nor did they lose one solitary wounded bird ; whereas, with my own dogs, I lost six brace the first two days' Partridge shooting, the most of them in standing corn. " ' My old friend and patron, having met with a severe acci- dent while hunting, determined to go to Scotland for the next three years, Seeing that my dogs were well calculated for Grouse shooting, as they had been broken and shot to on the moors, and being aware of my anxiety to possess the breed of his Russians, he very kindly offered to exchange them for mine, with a promise I would preserve a brace of Russian puppies for him. Although I had refused fifty guineas for my brace, I most gladly closed with his offer. Since then I have hunted them in company with several dogs of high character, but notliing that I have yet seen could equal them. If not taken out foi six months, they are perfectly steady, which is a quality rarely to be met with. Every sportsman must know, that the fewer dogs he can do his work with properly, the better ; for if they are in condition, they cannot be too frequently hunted ; and their tempers, style of working, &c., become more familiar to him. On this the whole comfort of shooting depends. Upon these grounds I contend that, for all kinds of shooting therefore there is nothing equal to the Russian, or half-bred Russian Set- ter, in nose, sagacity, and every other qualification that a dog ought to possess. It may appear an exaggeration, but it is my opinion, in which I am supported by many of the first sportsmen in England, that there is not one keeper in fifty that knows how to manage and break a dog efficiently. It is a common practice for keepers to take their dogs out for an hour or two, twice or thrice a week, morning or evening, just before the commencement of the season — what would be thought of training a horse in that way, for a race over the flat, or a stee- ple-chase ] Hard and constant work is as necessary for a dog, UPLAND SHOOTING. 327 that has to hunt from moraing to night, and frequently for several successive clays, as for a race-horse. He should be taken out two or three hours daily, in the middle of the day, to use him to the heat, for three or four weeks before the season begins ; and let me observe in conclusion ; that if his master were to adopt a similar course, he would have good cause to rejoice in the precaution before the end of his first week's shooting.' " Another gentleman, a large breeder of sporting dogs, thus answered our queries as to the kind of animal best suited to the general purpose of shooting : — " ' T have tiied all sorts, and, at last, fixed upon a well-bred Setter as the most useful. I say well-bred, for not many of the dogs with feathered sterns, which one sees now-a-days, are worthy the name of Setter. Pointer fanciers object to Setters on account of their requiring more water ; but there are gene- rally sufficient springs and peat-holes on the moors for them ; and, even in the early part of Septembei', a horse-pond or ditch is to be met with often enough. For cover, or Snipe-shooting, the Setter is far superior, facing the thorns in the cover, and the wet in the bogs, without coming to heel, shivering like a pig in the ague. I have always found, too, that Setters, when well broke, are finer tempered, and not so easily cowed as Pointers. Should they get an unlucky undeserved kick, Don, the Setter, wags his tail, and forgets it much sooner than Carlo, the Pointer. My shooting lying near the moors, takes in every description of country, and I always find that, after a good rough day, the Setter will out-tire the Pointer, though, perhaps, not start quite so flush in the morning, " ' I always teach ojie, at least, of my dogs to bring his game, which saves a world of trouble, both in and out of cover, but never allow him to stir for the bird until after loading. Should any of these remarks prove of service, I shall feel most happy in having assisted a brother sportsman.' " To this I will oidy add, that I have botli seen and owned Setters, which on the first day of the season were as steady and 328 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. as perfectly under command, as on the last ; that I have seen them tried, day in and day out, for weeks together, with the most admirable imported Pointers, and that they proved always equal to them ; in late Snipe-shooting, when the water is cold and skimmed with ice, or m autumn shooting in thorny and briary covert, they beat them out of sight. I may mention here a brace which I possessed, and over which I shot eight seasons, never allowing any person to hunt them on a single occasion after their leaving the breaker's hands, except myself, and keeping them at steady work. One was a liver and white English dog, broke by Mr. Sandford, of New- Jersey, whom I have mentioned before ; the other a red Irish Setter, with a white ring and four white stockings, broke by Dilke. They were both undeniable dogs, but the liver and white was the best retriever I ever saw. The test of their ex- cellence is in the fact that in 1836, the late Mr. Peter G. Barker, of New- York offered me, and I refused, eight hundred dollars for the brace. They had cost me two hundred, and I had shot over them four seasons afterward, when the price was bid. I have only farther to say that I never regretted the refusal, as I never saw in all respects a brace of dogs so perfect. I shall now proceed to the Pointer. THE POINTER. It is conceded that this animal is the offspring of the two ancient races knovioi as sagaces, or intelligent, and pvgnaces or beUicosi, or warlike, and I am inclined to think, myself, that his share of the latter blood, is even greater than is generally im- agined. His intelligence, except so far as indicated by his power of scenting his game, is of rather a low order, and though docile and easily commanded, he is not generally sagacious, or afliectionate. Neither his temper nor other qualities, except in the field, greatly recommend him; but for the steady pursuit of UPLAND SHOOTING. 329 his game in tlio open plain, his great caution in nof over- running it, his great capacities of enduring heat and thirst, and his retentive memory of what he has been taught, uiirpial- ifiod by any headstrong or impetuous dash, render hiui, for the pursuit of some species of animals and for son*B localities, unrivillod. Of the latter there are few in this country. The sandy Grouse barrens of Long Island, Martha's Vineyard and the New-Jersey Pine-grounds, while there were Grouse on them, were well adapted to the display of his peculiar and char- acteristic excellencies. The Grouse mountains of Pennsylvania ai'e so rocky and so much beset with stubs that his bate feet, unless pi'otected with buckskin boots, through which the claws must be suffered to protrude, will not enable him to b^ar the wear and tear of daily work. Some of the western praries, which are drij and deficient of water, are well suited for him, as in Wisconsin and parts of Michigan ; and there, he is prized, and desei'vedly. Of this animal there are two breeds, separate and conspicuous, of which all the others are varieties, and none of the latter suf- ficiently peculiar or different either in appearance or qualifica- tions to merit any especial description or notice. These two breeds are the Old Spanish Pointer, which is the origin and type of the race, and the improved, or English Pointer. Of the former, the Portuguese, and of the latter, the French Pointer, are coarser and inferior varieties, — all the points attributed to the last-named dog as characteristic, namely, large head, pendent ears, and thick tail, being common to every coarse, ill-bred English dog. " The Spanish Pointer," says Mr. Youatt, " originally a native of Spain, was once considered to be a valuable dog. lie stood higher on his legs, but was too large and heavy in his limbs, and had widely spread ugly feet, exposing him to fre- quent lameness. His muzzle and head were large, correspond- ing with the acuteness of his smell. His ears were large and pendent, and his body ill-formed. He was naturally an ill-tem • pared dog, growling at the hand that would caress him, even 330 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. although it were his master's. He stood steadily to his birds ; but it was difficult to break him of chasing the Hare. He was deficient in speed. His redeeming quality was his excellent scent, unequalled in any other kind of dog. " To convince our readers of the value of this particulai breed, we may mention the very singular sale of Col. Thornton's dog Dash, who was purchased by Sir Richard Symons for one hundred and sixty pounds' worth of Champagne and Burgundy, a hogshead of Claret, and an elegant gun and another Pointer, with a stipulation that if any accident befell the dog, he was to be returned to his former owner for fifty guineas. Dash unfor- tunately broke his leg, and in accordance with the agreement of sale, was returned to the Colonel, who considered him a for- tunate acquisition as a stallion to breed from. See Blain or Daniel." This animal, which was once considered very valuable, is now entirely superseded by the improved, or English dogs. He was often what is vulgarly called do^Me-nosed, having a deep fur- row between the nostrils ; and to this peculiarity, I have heard the excellence of their scenting powers attributed, of course ab- surdly. Mr. Youatt, on the contrary, I am surprised to see, at- tributes the deficiency of the same powers, in a certain French breed, having the like deforaiity, to the same cause. I quite agree with Dr. Lewis, in regarding any such reason, whether for good or evil qualities, as wholly visionary. Ugliness, want of speed, and ill temper, are causes which have banished the Spanish Pointer from the kennel of the true sportsman. More of the blood is to be found in the Pointer commonly used in this country, than in the English breed, the points and characteristics of which are well laid down as follows, by Dr. Lewis. " The English Pointer will now claim more particularly our attention. It is quite useless to go into a general description of an animal of whom we have already said much, and with whom we are all familiar ; but we will endeavor to mention the most striking points of the species, which marks can be referred to as guides in the purchase of a dog. UPLAND SHOOTING. 331 " It is a difficult matter to put on paper, in a manner satisfac tory either to the reader or writer, the peculiarities of any ani- mal, whereby he may judged pure or mixed. However, there are, generally, some few points in each species, that can be se- lected as proofs of their genuineness and ability to perfoiTn cer- tain actions peculiar to the race. " But, after all, more reliance must be placed upon the good . faith of the seller, or the previous knowledge of the strain from wliicli the purchaser selects — and what is better than either, from actual observation in the field; all of which precautions may, nevertheless, prove abortive, and our dog be worthless. " As regards the size of the English Pointer, we may say, that he averages in length about three feet, from the tip of the muzzle to the base of the tail, and from twenty-two to twenty- six inches high. His head not bulky, nor too narrow, the fron- tal sinuses largely developed. " The muzzle long, and rather tapering, the nostrils large and well open, the ear slightly erect, not over long, and the tip triangular; if too pendent, large and rounded at the tip, there is too much of the hound present. The eyes lively, but not too prominent ; the neck rather long, and not over thick, the chest broad, the limbs laige and muscular ; the paws strong, hard, and wide. The body and loins thin, rather than bulky, the hind quarters broad, and the limbs in the same proportion with the fore members; the tail long and tapering." To this there is very little to be added, except that the higher the bi^eed, the shorter, the sleeker, and the more satiny the skin, and the thinner the ear. Any tendency to long hair about the stern or legs, hints loudly at a Setter cross, which imprf)ves nei- ther the temper nor tlie ijualities of tlie do? accommodate sportsmen de- UPLAND SHOOTING. 335 sirous of trying the experiment with some of the progeny, and with my best advice and instructions as to their management and usi'. H;iviug thus disposed of the threi; species of dog used in Up- land shooting, I shall proceed shortly to lay down a few plain and general rules, for their treatment in the kennel and the field, their condition, breaking, and some of their more ordinary and dangerous diseases, and then pass onward to fowl shooting on the shores of the Atlantic. KENNEL MANAGEMENT. The first point in kennel management is the kennel itself, and, for a person keeping several dogs, the best and most suitable to this country is an enclosure of pickets, sufficiently high to ren- der it impossible for dogs even to attempt to leap over them, surrounding a space of ground the larger the better, as the dogs will then have room enough to run at speed, and to play toge- ther, which is undoubtedly conducive to health. This space should be gravelled, or strewed with fine sand, and if it could be so contrived as to have a channel of water running through it, that would be a great addition, both to the health and com- fort of the dogs. Along one side or end of this place should be a shed, closed at the back and ends, with a shingle roof, at least ten feet deep, so as to afford a complete shelter from snow, rain, and sun- shine. This shed, which should be open in front, must be floored with plank, with a moderate inclination, so as to allow any moisture to drain off readily. The opening should face the south. Along the back of this shed should be ranged a row of ordinary dog-houses of pine plank, one for each dog. These should have no bot'oms, that they may be removed, and the boards scoured beneath, from lime to time. They should not be less than three feet in leng h, by two in breadth, and two feet high at the eaves, by three at the ridge. The smaller the aper- 38ffi FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. ture the better, provided it is big enough to allow the ingress and egress of the dog. The inside should be whitewashed, and the very best bed that can be devised is fine pine shavings, as it is as soft and warm as any, and the turpentine which it con- tains is the surest of all antidotes against vermin. For persons living in towns, not having the command of space, or keeping but a single dog, the movable dog-house, such as I have described, placed on a plank platform, and having a post annexed, to which the dog may be chained, will answer the purpose, though if a dog is kept constantly chained up, he should have regular exercise. If such a kennel as I have men- tioned be used, each dog should at first be chained to a staple adjoining his own house, to which he will soon become so per- fectly accustomed, that he will never attempt to enter that of his neighbor; and if they are watched at first, and punished if they quarrel, they will live harmoniously enough ; provided al- ways, that no bones or scraps of food be ever suffered to remain in the kennel to breed contention, and that none of the fair sex — to dogs, as to men, teterrima belli causa — be allowed to be at large among the males, in those seasons when they are most ob- noxious to addresses. Setters are much less quarrelsome than Pointers, but steadiness and firmness will keep peace even among the latter. It is unnecessary to say that the kennel, whether for one or many dogs, cannot be kept too scrupulously clean ; as the least col- lection of dirt not only renders the animal uncomfortable to him- self, and offensive to others, but promotes humors, and is a mov- ing cause of some of the worst disorders. Where it is not found practicable to have a channel of run- ning water through the kennel, each dog should be provided at all times with his own large earthen pan of water, which should be kept continually fresh and renewed ; and in each pan there should be at all seasons a piece of bar brimstone, but especially in summer. This, acting as an alterative and gentle purgative, will keep the bowels in good condition, cool the blood, and pre- serve the softness of the coat. UPLAND SHOOTING. 337 It will be found an excellent plan to feed all the dogs, if se- veral, at once, from one long common trough, into which the food should be poured, in regular order, and the dogs then called out one by one, by name, from their houses, to which ihey should previously be compelled o retire, and none suffered to approach undl so summoned. The feeder shou d stand over them, while feeding, with a switch, and .he firs growl, or indi- cation of an attempt to quarre , should be punished with a smart cut ; any voracity, in like manner, can be checked or mode- rated by a word ; and it" any dog ea so ravenously, as to gel more than his share, he must be quietly, but firmly, called off, and ordered to his own kennel. By this method, order, regu- larity, and obedience, will be greatly increased in the kennel; and, what is of more importance, the general good humor and good understanding of the dogs will be greatly promoted, so that if. Hi may often become necessary, as, for instance, in tra- velling on board steamboats, or in other places where accom- modation is difficult and scanty, you should be compelled to feed your dogs out of one vessel, they will eat together cheerfully and agreeably, and lie down to get their rest as good friends, instead of fighting a pitched batt'e over the plate, and growling at one another all night long, instead of going peaceably to sleep. Attention to litt e matters of this kind is of great real impor- tance. A fight between a brace of dogs, may deprive the owner of the ser\-ices of one, or both, for half a dozen consecutive days ; and so destroy the sport of a week, on which he has counted, and for which he has, perhaps, incurred considerable trouble and expense. Even the loss of a nights rest will render dogs peevish, deprive them of their noses, and make them dull and listless during half a day. The subject of feeding is of great importance, and of it I shall treat somewhat at length, after ob- serving that frequent washing and bathing is of exceeding bene- fit to dogs in fine weather, when they have suitable conve- niences for drying themselves. After a swim, or a hard day's shooting in snuw, or hi marshes, a good wheaten straw bed is the 338 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. best restorative ; and that is the only time when I approve of straw for a bed, as it is heating, and has a strong tendency to harbor vermin. To curry a dog, or comb him with a horse's mane comb, and then brush him thoroughly, will be found to contribute to his cleanliness, comfort, and health, in a far higher degree, than the trouble of seeing it done will incommode the sportsman. A little method, and the regular observance of hours, will render all these things easy, and they will soon come to be regarded by the servant as matters of every day occur- rence, and as such to be done, and the trouble disregarded. With regard to feeding, a question on which very much of the condition, and not a little of the olfactory powers of the dog, Mr. Blaine in his great work on Canine Pa hology, asks the fol- lowing ques'tion, and proceeds forthwith to answer it. " IVhat is the hest food for dogs 1 An examination of this ani- mal must end in determining that he is neither wholly carnivo- rous, nor wholly herbivorous, but of a mixed kind ; intended to take in as well vegetable as animal matter, and formed to re- ceive nourishment from either. He is furnished with sharp cut- ting teeth for tearine flesh, and he has also tolerably broad sur- faces on other of his teeth, capable of grinding farinaceous sub- stances : his stomach and intestines likewise hold a middle place between those of the carnivorous and herbivorous tribes. At the same time, both his dental and his digestive organs appear rather more adajsted to the mastication and assimilation of ani- mal than vegetable matter; to which also his habits and partia- lities evidently tend. He is by nature predacious, and intended to live on other animals ; the stronger he hunts in troops, the weaker he conquers singly. Yet still it is clear that his organs fit him, when necessary, for receiving nutriment from vegetable matter also, and we likewise see that he voluntarily seeks it, probably as a necessary mixture, to prevent that tendency to putridity, which too great a quantity of animal food begets. It is a received opinion among many sportsmen, that flesh-feeding injures the scent ; but it cannot do it naturally : for the fox, one of the cLuiiiue, which is kno\\Ti to be by choice ^\ holly carnivu- UPLAND SHOOTING. 339 reus, principally lives by the exquisite sensibility of his olfac- tory organs. If the eating of flesh really have such an effect on sporting dogs, it can only do so, when it has been taken in such quantities as to vitiate the secretions of the body ; and in this ^vay the pituitary mucous secretion of the nasal sinuses may themselves become somewhat tainted. " A viixtnrc of animal and vegetable suhstances is therefore the most proper general food for dogs, and that which best agi'ces with the analogies of their nature ; but the proportions of each are best determined by the exertions of the body." I do not, I confess, lay any stress whatever on the argument drawni from the natural state of the canina;, or from the habits of the fox, since it is too notorious to retjuire comment, that animals in a high state of cultivation, not only acquire new wants as well as new habits, but lose many of their natural qualities and in- stincts. And I am thoroughly convinced, that the habitual feeding of dogs on flesh has a tendency to injure their powers of scenting ; and I believe the reason why it does so, is precisely because it docs " vitiate the secretions of the body" generally, and therefore does affect " the nasal sinuses." 1 have observed many times, that dogs fed largely, even on perfectly fresh animal food, particularly in a raw state, become intolerably offensive in odor; and when this is the case it is cer- tain that the secretions of the body ai-e vitiated, and probable, moreover, that the health of the animal is in some sort affected likewise. TIuU flosli is necessary to dogs, I will not, however, deny ; and it is my opinion that, during the dead seasons of the year wlien tliere is no field work to be done, except exercise, flesh m.iy be given not only without detriment, but with advantage. Raw meat tends, unquestionably, to give a dog both strength and ferocity; and tlie latter is so nearly allied to endurance, and wl'at is connnonly cwWed jduck, that we can scarcely encour- age tlie one ([ualily, apart from the others. I would tlierefore feed dogs, wliile getting them into condition, on tlesli — and I would not even object to raw horse-flesh for that 340 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. pui-pose — without stint, save that of their own appetites, having care to give them a sufficiency of sulphur in their water to keep their bodies open. Well-fed, nay even rendered fat, upon this strong and hearty food, and worked down into hard flesh and sound condition by constant, and, toward the commencement of season, sharp and fast exercise, Setters or Pointers will have raised such a stock of muscle, and will be so high in courage, that they may safely dispense with all solid animal food during the prevalence of the shooting season. We have one advantage in this country over the residents of Great Britain, in regard to dog-feeding, that whereas both oat and barley meal are apt to heat the blood of the animal to such a degree as to produce cuticular eruptions and redness, not very dissimilar to mange, we possess in the meal of the maize, or Indian corn, a substance admirably adapted to the food of the dog ; which moreover has a tendency to act on him as a slight and gentle alterative. This I consider to be the perfection of dog-food, and the fol- lowing is the best way of preparing it. Take a caldron half full of water, set it over a small furnace, and when boiling cast in a handful of salt : then stir in the meal, keeping the water still boiling, until it has attained the consistency of very thick pomdge. Remove it from the fire, and let it cool gradually, running the blade of a knife round the side of the pot, which will prevent its adherence to the metal. When cold, it will have hardened into the consistency of stiff batter pudding, and than this, either alone, or with milk, butter-milk, or pot liquor, no better food can be given to hunting dogs. Observe, however, that the pot liquor of ham, salt-pork, salt-beef, or the like, is objectionable ; as is the fat, grease or scraps of such food ; the excess of salt having a ten- dency to produce a very obstinate species of mange. For a person who keeps several dogs, there is no better mode than to let the butcher regularly supply him with sheep heads, which will cost a mere trifle, at the rate of one for each dog UPLAND SHOOTING. 341 every second day. These boiled completely to rags, and the residuum added to the meal, will leave no desideratum in the way of feeding. It is \ve\\ to observe that vegetables of almost any kind, as ]K)tat(»os, carrots, parsnips, and even cabbages, may be added to this mess, and that to the dog's great advantage. The quantity may be gradually increased, beginning with so small a portion that the flavor of the mess shall not be altered, until the dog will eat the vegetables almost alone. The best kennel huntsman I ever knew in England, was in the habit of feeding his dogs one day in six, during the hunting season, and twice a week during the rest of the year on vegetables and meal only, witliout flesh, and I never saw dogs stouter and finer in condition. Dogs should be supplied freely, if kept chained up in cities, -^^V C^'~^^^ where they cannot procure their natural herbaceous emetic, ■iiiv*^'-"' tv with the common dog-grass, or queech-gi-ass, triticum repcns ; ") x^ ' '•. .< and where this cannot be obtained, should occasionally have an ; to-t^- '- emetic given them, consisting of tartarized antimony — emetic >-iY ,»c.. * tartar — from one to tluee grains, in proportion to the size of ur-*- &*~ the dog. It can be given most readily, mixed with lard or but- ' ^ . ^ ter into a small ball ; or between two slices of meat, when the dog is hungry. Common salt, in doses varying from half a (^/ryyp^-i^_g small teaspf)onful to one and a-half, in proportion to size, may ' . be administered as an emetic ; but it is violent in its action, and - ^ ' ' ' should therefore be used only when no other can be readily obtained. ' ■ c> tut When dogs have been very fat previous to tlie commence- , , ment of the shooting season, and strong exercise has been brought into play to reduce and bring them into perfect condi- tion, a few gentle doses of purgative medicine will be of great senice to the animal, and will improve all his powers, both of speed, endurance and scent. " The term condition," says Mr. Blaine, " as applied to dogs is correspondent with the same term as used among horses, and is intended to characterize a healthy external appearance, 20 342 FRANK forester's fjeld sports. united with a capability, from full wind and perfect vigor, to go through all the exercises required of them. It is, therefore, evident that condition is of material consequence to sporlsmen ; indeed, it is of infinitely more importance than is generally im- ao-ined. What would be thought of that sporting character who should enter his horse for racing without any previous training? and how much chance would he be presumed to have, even to ' save Ms distance,' without this precaution 1 Is it not equally reasonable to suppose that Pointers, Setters, Spaniels, and more than all. Greyhounds,* require training; or, in other Avords to be in full condition also 1 It is notorious, that Pointers, Set- ters, and Spaniels, if they are what is termed Joul in their coats, never have their scent in perfection. It must be equally evident that, unless they are ' in zcind,' they cannot range with speed and durability ; and without some previous training, it is impos- sible they should be so. Those persons, therefore, who exjDect superior exertion from their dogs in the field, would do well to prepare them by a previous attention to their condition. In Greyhounds, intended either for matrJtcs or for simj)h coursing, it is evident that this is absolutely necessary to insure success. In simple coursing, they are pitted against an animal very nearly equal in speed to themselves, and always in condition by its habits. If, therefore, a dog of acknowledged goodness is beaten by a Hare, especially at the beginnhig of the season, it is ten to one but the condition of the dog is at fault. It is self- evident that perfect condition must be moie than equally impor- tant in coViX^wig matches ; wliere a dog has two competitors to beat, the Hare and the other dog. " The manner of getting dogs into condition is very simjdc, and * I was, at first, about to omit that part relating to Greyhounds, as in conse- quence of there existing no animal in the Eastern States fit for their pursuit, and consequently no field for their powers, they are useless, and only kept as pets. I am, however, so well assured that they must come into use to the Westward, and that the finest sport conceivable might be had with them on the prairies iu pursuit of the Deer, the Antelope, and with the large Scotch wiry breed of the Elk and Wolf also, that I have resolved to retain the whole passage. UPLAND SHOOTING. 343 either consists in reducing the animal from* too full and soft a state to one of firmness and less bulk ; or it consists in raising a lean and reduced dog to lustiness, hardness, and vigor. Some sportsmen prefer the one state, and some the other to begin upon. If a dog be fat, his treatment must be entered on by- physic and sufficient exercise, but not by two great a privation of food; and it must be particularly observed, that his doses of physic be mild, but more in number. The exercise should be at first gradual and slow, but long continued ; and at last it should be inci-eased to nearly what he will be accustomed to when hunting. If there be the least foulness — i. c. if the secre- tions of the skin are impure — apparent in the habit, besides physic and exercise, alteratives should be given also : these medicines immediately follow the subject of condition. Some sportsmen regularly dress their dogs, before the hunting season, with sulphur, even though no breaking-out appears, and I by no means think the practice a bad one. Others cuny or brush their dogs, whether any skin affection appears or not ; and, to Greyhounds, it is a very proper means of keeping-up the equili- brium of the circulation, and of promoting muscular elasticity. When a lean dog is to be got into condition, less physic is neces- sary ; but good flesh feeding, plenty of exercise, and a due ad- ministration of alteratives, are principally to be resorted to : nevertheless, one or two doses of very mild physic will here also promote the condition and even assist the accumulation of flesh." ALTERATIVES. "Various substances are used as alteratives ; as antimonials, and the different preparations of mercury, iron, and tin. The nitrate of potash (nitre,) the supertartrate of potash (cream of tartar,) aloes, salines, &c., &c., &c., are excellent alteratives. Tartarized antimony (emetic tartar) often proves a very useful * This I conceive to be the true, and by far the easiest mode. It is easy to reduce tut into solid flesh, but very difficult to raise leanness into muscle, and preserve hardness at the same time. 844* • FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. alterative in the chronic asthmfatic cough to which dogs are subject, given as an emetic once or twice a week, in doses of one grain to three. Antimonial powder, or James's powder, may also be given with benefit as an alterative in similar cases. Crude antimony is often found useful in the diseases of the skin ; but it is unfortunately very uncertain in its operation : that is, some dogs will bear a considerable quantity, while others cannot even take a small one without violent sickness ; the usual dose is from half a scruple to half a drachm. Nitrate of potash (nitre) is a very useful alterative to dogs, for hot itching humors and redness of the skin, in doses of four grains to ten. The su- pertartrate of potash (cream of tartar) may be so given likewise with benefit in larger doses, in the same cases : all the prepara- tions of mercury, though excellent alteratives, require great caution when frequently repeated, or regularly given ; for dogs are easily salivated, and salivation produces very hurtful effects on them." LAXATIVES AND PURGATIVES. " These evacuants are both preventive and curative of disease : they are valuable alteratives, and active immediate agents in acute affections. By opening the bowels, we remove a frequent cause of irritation to the system ; and a very considerable source of skin affections also ; for whatever is taken up superfluously by the system is apt to find itself an outlet there. We thereby likewise prevent pulmonary congestion, and deposits of fat, which would obstruct the visceral functions. Laxatives are good preventives against that habitual costiveness common to dogs and all other carnivorous animals : such, therefore, as are flesh-fed should have this tendency obviated by laxatives ; and the best which offers itself is a portion of vegetable matter with their flesh food : potatoes, or even greens, can always be pro- cured, and will answer the purpose. This is the more neces- sary, for costiveness sometimes occasions fatal obstructions ; and a costive habit brings on fistulae, and also affords encourage- ment to the breeding of worms. Medicinal laxatives are nu- UPLAND SHOOTING. MS merous. Epsom salts — suljihate of magnesia — dose one drachm to two ; castor oil, two drachms to four ; syrup of buckthorn, the same quantity, will either of them answer this end, the quantities bcin^ increased if those mentioned are not found suf- ficii'iit : hut as these directions are intended to meet the tender pet of the drawing-room, as well as the strong inhabitant of the kennrl, so it is prudent to specify the minor dose : more may be addi'd, but it is too late to subtract when too much has been given. "Purgat/res may be made by increasing the doses of any of the laxatives. Jalap is not a bad purgative to dogs, but it is uncer- tain, some being little affected by it ; rhubarb is equally so ; senna I have no experience of; gamboge is very drastic; calo- mel is an excellent auxiliary to other purgatives on some occa- sions ; but given alone it is apt to deceive, by proving more emetic than purgative ; neither will the stomach or bowels bear a sufficient quantity without producing much derangement in the system, as violent vomiting, tenesmus, and sometimes sud- den sahvation. Aloes foiTn the safest general purge to dogs ; and such are the peculiarities of the canine bowels, that while a man can take with impunity as much calomel as would kill two large dogs, a moderate-sized dog will take a quantity of aloes sufficient to destroy two stout men. The smallest dog can take fifteen or twenty grains; half a drachm is seldom too much, but the smaller dose had better be tried first : medium-sized dogs usually require a drachm, and some large dogs have taken more than two drachms : I have given three to a strong New- foundland dog without extreme catharsis; but as before ob- sei-s'ed, dogs differ much in their different habits, and it is there- fore most prudent to begin \\'ith a dose too small than too laro^e : hundreds of dogs are every year destroyed by temerity in this particular. Wlienever a purgative is administered, let the dog have some vegetable food, if possible, a day or two pre- viously ; an active cathartic, given soon after a full meal of flesh or bones, might destroy by hurrj'ing the undigested food into the intestines, where it might form such an impacted and 346 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. obstmcting mass as could not be overcome : it is prudent to place -before tlie dog some broth, milk, &c., to assist purgation. Let me warn sportsmen who are putting their dogs through a course of physic, for hunting or coursing purposes, to be aware, that it is not the inordinate strength of the dose which does good; on the contrary, violent physic often defeats its own pur- pose : it is a mild and repeated emptying of the bowels which unloads the system at large, and at once strengthens the solids and purifies the fluids." This, I believe, is all that need be said, in this place, with re- gard to general medical treatment, except in cases of speci- fic disease, where the aid of a medical assistant of some kind would of course be called in ; and directions for the treatment of which cannot be contained within the compass of such a work as this. In consequence, however, of the great prevalence of two or three maladies, as canine distemper, wormSj mange, and the like, with some common injuries arising from local accidents, I shall here add a few short recipes for the treatment of these troublesome maladies, which will be, I think, sufficient to guide the sportsman in any ordinary cases. Occasional bleeding is of great benefit to dogs. It is most readily performed by holding the head of the animal up, passing a ligature round the lower part of the neck, which will cause the jugular vein to swell at about one inch from the wind- pipe, and then puncturing the vein with a common thumb Ian cet. The only care necessary is to avoid inserting the lancet so deeply as to sever the vein. If the hair is thick and long, it may be requisite to clip, or even shave the spot, before effecting the orifice. No pin or ligature is necessary to close the wound. In case of fits, or any sudden emergency, a clip in the ear, if no lancet is at hand, will answer the end. The quantity of blood to be drawn from a dog will vary ac- cording to the size of the animal, from one or two oz. in a very small dog, to six, seven, or eight in a very large one, propor- tionably to the nature of disease, and the violence of the symp- toms. UPLAND SHOOTING. 347 The pulse of the dog may be felt at the heart, and at the inner side of the protuberance of the knee. The range of pul- sation between a very large and a very small dog, is not less than 20. Thus, if 100 be taken as the usual number for the former, and 120 for the latter, whatever is found much to exceed this may be ascribed to the inflammatory state. The following brief mles for the treatment of a few of the most common diseases, and injuries to which dogs are liable, are from Messrs. Blaine and Youatt. They are all safe, and will, I think, be found sure. DISTEMPER, OR SPECIFIC CATARRHAL DISEASE. The tcnn of distemper, though in itself a very absurd and in- definite term, has become so conventional that it cannot readily be dispensed with, as by this name and no other it is generally known. Wiiatever it might have been in the first instance, it is now a constitutional canine endemic, from which few individuals escape. It is at times epidemical also, and is then peculiarly fatal. It greatly varies in form, and, particularly when it assumes the shape of an epidemic, has some peculiar characteristic type, sometimes tending to diarrhoea, sometimes to epilepsy and spasms, and sometimes, the most fatal of all, to a putrid liabit. It is unquestionably contagious, but it is, as I have stated, endemical and epidemical also, and it is also self-generated. It affects dogs at all ages, from mere puppies of five or six weeks, to adults of as many years. It occurs also many times in the same individual, and dogs have been known to escape it thrice and perish by a fourth attack. This is, however, fortunately, uncommon. In the most highly-bred dogs it is the most fatal, and I have generally observed it to be especially dangerous to the smooth-haired races, as Greyhounds and Bull-terriers. With Newfoundland dogs, at times, it makes sad havoc. Its symp- toms are so vaiious, that it is not easy to set before the reader 34R FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. any distinct or strict diagnostic signs, yet it is not difficult, on the whole, of detection. A dry, husky cough, followed by a loss of spirits and appe- tite, the staring of the coat, and a thin watery discharge from the nostrils and eyes, gradually instead of limpid becoming muco-purulent, are usually the earliest symptoms of the disease ; thouo-h at times the discharge does not appear, or is quickly arrested, and followed by convulsions, which usually tenninate the affair very quickly. When the symptomatic epilepsy of distemper occurs, if the at- tack can be arrested with the occun-ence of a single fit, the dog often recovers, but if one is followed by a second, the case is usually hopeless. The vii-ulent or putrid type of the disease marked by a bloody and foetid discharge from the nose, eyes, and sometimes even from the ears, and by bloody, mucous and bilious evacuations of the bowels, is, I think, so almost invariably fatal, that the most mei'ciful method is at once to destroy the animal, as an act of kindness to himself, as well as a means of preventing extend- ed ravages by contagion. Again, distemper often leaves behind it a species of paralysis, vdth nervous twitchings of the limbs, similar to chorea or St. Vitus' dance, which continually increase, until it ends in convul- sions and death, though it will at times slowly and entirely dis- appear. The treatment of distemper must therefore necessarily varj" greatly, and it is needless to add that although almost every sportsman and breeder has, what he believes, an infallible rem- edy— there is no such thing as a general specific for its cure or prevention. The best plan generally is to commence operations with a mild purgative or emetic, such as have been prescribed under the head of General Treatment. If there is very much cough, or the pvilse be very greatly ex- cited, bleed from three to six oz., according to the age and size of the dog. If bleeding is adopted, use a very mild purgative. UPLAND SHOOTING. 349 The best emetic is Calomel, . . i ^r. Tartarizod antimony, . I gr. This formula is for the smallest dog. The largest may require of each 2 grains. After the bowels are cleansed and the body thus depleted, ^. Antiiiioiiial powder, 2, 3 or 4 grs. Nitrate of P )tas!i, 5, 10 or 15 grs. Powdered ipecacuanha, 2, ',i or t irrs. Make into a ball, according to size and age, and give twice or thrice a day, as the symptoms are more or less urgent, diminish- % ing the dose if it produces sickness. If the cough is very distressing, add to each dose Foxglove digitalis, J to 1 gr. -; If no farther symptoms occur, repeat the emetic every third or fourth day, and keep the bowels open, but strenuously avoid any tiling like active purgation. / In case o? diarrha'a supervening, ^. No. 1. — Powilered opium, 5 grs. Powdered catechu, . 2 drs. Powdered Gum-Arabic, 2 drs. Prepaied chalk. . . 2 drs. Powdered ginger, ^ dr. Make into twelve, nine, or six balls, with conserve of roses, and give from once to four times a day, ^>/-o re nata. If this does not suffice, ^. No. 3. — Magnesia, . 1 dr. Powdered alum, . 2 scr. Powdered calumba, 1 dr. Powdered Gum-Arabic, 2 drs. Mix with six ounces of boiled starch, and give a desert or a tablespoonful every four, six or eight hours, jt. r. n. In case oi ejnlcpfic fits being foreseen, by sudden restlessness, animation, brightness of the eyes, and convulsive twitchings of the face and jaws, give a brisk emetic, followed by a brisk pur- gative, and insert a seton in the neck, the tape smeared with blistering ointment. If repeated attacks succeed, give the follow- ing formula to a medium-sized dog, half the quantity to a small »ne, in a spoonful of ale every two hours. ^. .Ether, . . 1 dr. Tincture of opium, . . ^ dr. Camphor, . G grs. Spirits of liartshorn, . 1 dr. Place the dog in a very warm bath for twenty minutes, and keep him wann and moist by wrapping in wet flannel before the 350 FRA.NTC FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS, fire, for several hours afterward. Give nourisliing- food, and keep quiet. If cJiorca or paralysis follow distemper, use the seton as above, stimulate the spine by rubbing the whole course of it with tincture of cantharides, and as a tonic I^. Nitrate of silver, very fine, 3 grs. Carbonate of iron, powdered, 2 drs. Gent an, powdered, 3 drs. Conserve of roses sufficient to make six, nine, or twelve balls, of which give one every night and morning, if the stomach will bear them. Fiictions, liberal feeding, strong soups, and cold baths, may aid in this stage of the disorder. These directions are abridged from Blaine and Youatt, and contain, I believe, the best remedial course that can be used. For the disease under its ordinary type, the practice above detailed will be found all-sufficient, and even when diarrhcea sets in, there is no occasion to despair. I must say, however, that altl.ough I have thought it advisa- ble to insert formulas for the treatment of the epileptic fits, and of the chorea or paralysis of distemper, I have never seen the fits conquered where two or three have occurred, and the chorea never. When paralysis or chorea fallows, I would myself kill the ani- mal as an act of mercy. Fo)- the putrid or malignant type of this disease, I have not thought it worth the while to prescribe any treatment, as it is all but incurable. For ^^'orms, an ailment to which dogs are extremely liable, and which is very troublesome, and at times, even dangerous, the following formula is safe and unexceptionable. ^. Cowha^e — Dolichos pruriens, half a drachm. Tin-filings very fine, 4 drachms. made into four, six, or eight balls, with lard, according to the size of the patient, exhibit one every morning, and afterwards ad- minister a purgative, such as epsom salts, or castor oil, or a UPLAND SHOOTING. 351 very slight mercurial dose, not exceeding 4 grs. of calomel in combination with aloes. For any mercurial poisons, the best remedy is the white of eggs, beaten into a liquid, given in large quantities, and repeat- ed as often as they have been ejected. Mild clysters may be thrown up, ami wiien the stomach is appeased, give an opiate and castor (lil. When eggs are not at hand, large doses of soap dissolved in water may be tried. For arsenic, large doses of sugar dissolved in milk, until the stomach is supposed to be cleared, then as above. For verdigris, as for mercurial poisons. For lead, give a strong dose of ejisom salts. If this l)e reject- ed, a ball with cahjmel, aloes and a quarter of a grain of opium. After this the body to be kept open with castor oil. For vegetable poisons, a strong emetic should be given as quickly as possible, followed l)y a large teaspoonful of mustard, or any other strong, spicy stimulant, such as pepper, or the like, mixed with vineijar. For common Mange, the following formula for ointment will be found useful : No. 1. — Powdered sulphur, 4 oz. Muriate of ammonia, powdered, I oz. Aloes, powdered, . 1 dr. Venice turpentine, . . A oz. Lard, 6 oz., mix. No. 2. — Sulphate of zinc, 1 dr. Tohacco in jtowder, . h oz. Wiiite Hellchore in powder, A oz. Sulphur in powder, Aloes in powdnr, . 2 dr. Lard, No. 3. — Powdered charcoal, 2 oz. Powdered sulphur, Potash, ... 1 dr. Lard. Venice turpentine, h oz., mix. No. -t. — Sulpliuric acid, . 1 dr. I^ard, Tar, ... 2 oz. Powdered lime, No. 5.— Wash. — Decoction of tobacco. .3 oz. Decoction of wiiite hellebore, 3 oz. Oxymuriate of quicksilver, 5 grs. With all these applications a fine wire muzzle must he used to prevent the d(5g licking himself, as if he do so he will infalli- 4oz. 6 oz. , mi.\. 4 oz. G oz. () oz. 1 oz. 352 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. bly perish from the strong poisonous properties of the remedies. For red mange, to any of the fonnula, 1, 2, or 3, to 6 oz. of the ointments prescribed, add 1 oz. mild mercurial ointment. Use the wire muzzle as above. In addition to these outer applications, give mild doses of epsom salts twice or thrice a week ; and occasionally, but for red mange always, the following formula : Black sulphuret of quicksilver, .'Etliiop's mineral, 1 oz. Supeitartarate of potash, 1 oz. Nitrate of Potash, . 2 drs. Divide into sixteen, twenty, or twenty-four doses, according to the size of the dog, and give one morning and evening. Keep the dog wann and dry, and feed on vegetable diet. OPHTHALMIA, Whether arising from cold, or external imtation, as scratches, thom- wounds, or the like, may be treated successfully as follows : Give gentle purgatives, feed low ; if much inflammation, bleed. Apply the following wash several times a day, after fomenting, with an infusion of poppy-heads, or a weak infusion of opium in hot water. Superacetate of lead, \ dr. Rose-water, • 6 oz. When the inflammation is disappearing, Sulpliate of zinc, . 1 scrup. Weak infusion of elm bark, C oz. Brandy, one teaspoonful. SORE FEET. " When dog's feet become sore by travelling it is common to \vash them with brine, but this is not altogether a good practice. It is better to bathe them with greasy pot liquor, milk or butter- milk, and afterwards to defend them from stones or dirt by wrapping them up." — Blaine. My practice is always after shooting, to bathe a dog's feet when unwounded, with brine, which tends greatly to indurate and prevent them from becoming sore. If actually sore, I fol- low M:\ 131aine's course of treatment. UPLAND SHOOTING. 353 The habit of worming dogs is, I believe, now entirely out of date, as it is entirely useless as a preventive for hydrophobia, of which it was ignorantly supposed to prevent the possible occurrence. It is an al)surd, useless and cruel practice. I do not approve of the practice of either cropping, rounding or tailing dogs ; but if in compliance with an absurd fashion it must be done, and the animal disfigured, and often seriously injured — for deafness is a common consequence of cropping — the operation should be performed with a pair of sharp, strong scissors, and a ligature should be applied to the tail, in order to prevent excessive bleeding. For the bites of poisonous reptiles, the best remedy is to nib the part bitten freely with volatile alcali, and to give to a large dog forty drops of spirits of hartshorn hourly in a teaspoonful of sweet oil. When these cannot be obtained, rub the wound freely with olive oil, close to a wood fire, and give large doses of olive oil internally. A poultice of the leaves of the broad-leaved plantain, bruised and mixed with common salt, I have found useful. For sprains, bruises or thom wounds, hot fomentations of infusion of camomile flowers, or vinegar and water, as hot as can be endured, and warm poultices, are the best practice. In the case of thora wounds the laceration should be carefully searched that no portion of the thorn or splinter remain within it. Large cuts or lacerations should be washed carefully with tepid water, the lips, if necessary, secured by a stitch or two, and the edges brought into contact by strips of adhesive plaster. It is a very false idea that the animal's tongue is the best dres- sing. Mr. Blaine obsei-ves on this point, " In some instances, I am ceitain, no application can be worse to a wounded dog than his own tongue. Whenever dogs are at all inclined to foulness, as a tendency to cuticular complaint is called, a sore so licked, is sure to become mangy, 'and to be aggravated by the licking." I shall conclude this branch of ray subject, as I commenced 23 354 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. it, by recommending it strongly to every sportsman to have al- ways at hand, as better than the best farriers, Blaine's Canine Pathology, and Youatt on the Dog: these, if he have ordinary intelligence, and ordinary care, aided by a small medicine-chest, and a lancet — without which latter article no sportsman should ever take the field — will enable him to guard against the occur- rence of most disorders in his kennel, and to conquer such as do occur, unless exti'aordinarily obstinate or malignant. FIELD MANAGEMENT OF DOGS. It is not, of course, presumed that the sportsman is necessari- ly to become a dog-breaker, much less that a tyro at field sports can be made a dog-breaker by reading a few pages more or less of written or printed instructions. On the contrary, it is notorious that scarce any science is more difficult of attainment, or requires more combinations of personal qualifications than that of subduing and breaking animals. Ex- treme patience, great steadiness of temper, sagacity, intelligence, quickness of comprehension, fiimness and even severity, must be united to long experience, to personal strength, physical cour- age, the power of enduring fatigue, unwearied industry, indo- mitable energy, and constant perseverance. Even of professional dog-breakers, not one in fifty is really up to his business ; how then shall the amateur hope to jump at the conclusion in a minute. Again, it is presumed that every person who is not a most perfect and accomplished sportsman, will buy a well-broke dog; or if he breeds, which is troublesome, and very likely to lead to disappointment, will have his Pointer or Setter trained by a professional workman. It is true that a dog will certainly work better for the person who has first trained, and continually practised him, without ever changing his master ; but so few mn have the abihty, and so few of those who have, arc willing to give the time or labor necessary to indoctrinate a dog thoroughly, that it is hardly ever UPLAND SHOOTING. 355 done by the gentleman sportsman, and indeed I should hardly recommend the attempt. For a novice to attempt it, would be an act of stark mad- ness. Still, however, it is necessary to know something of the theory of the science, otherwise it will be impossible to keep the animal, after being thoroughly trained, perfect in his prac- tice ; and again, it is well that the rules should be laid down distinctly, as veiy many professed breakers fail in their art from want not of perseverance, but of knowledge. First of all, it must be remembered, that although to foint was once a taught quality, it is now, in the pure high-bred Pointer and Setter an inherited, if not natural, instinct, and in the very purest caste of Pointers to hack the point of their fel- lows, is also now hereditary. I have seen half-a-dozen Pointer puppies, not above six weeks old, crawling about the yard, pointing the Pigeons and fowls, and backing one another, as steadily as old dogs in the field ; and I hardly consider any dog, Pointer or Setter, as worth the trouble and expense of breaking, unless he points the first game bird he ever scents, even if he have not seen it. The first step I therefore would take with a young dog, is to find out whether he has got a nose or not, and whether he is worth breaking ; this I should do by taking a walk with him, and without a gun, where game abounded, and observing his actions and movements. If he have a good nose, and be highly bred, he will undoubtedly point on the first occasion of his crossing the scent of Quail, Grouse, Snipe, or Woodcock. This point once established, the sooner he is cairied home the better, and he is, on no account whatever, to be taken out again, or to see game again, until he is perfectly Jwusc-hrokc. It is to the vicious plan of attempting to break doo-s in the field, and in the face of game, that the number of wild, Worth- less, iiTeclaimable brutes, is to be attributed. The first step in breaking, is to teach the dog to " down," or '- charge," wherever he is. He is taught to do this in the com- mencement, by means of a cord fastened to his collar, and by 356 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. gentle force, and gentle punishment — at first, at the word "down," or "charge," then by the raised hand accompanying the word ; then by the raised hand alone. This done, the cord must be removed, and he must be accus- tomed to " charge" at any distance from his master, and to lie steadily at charge, even although the master walks away from him with his back turned, and goes out of sight of him, unless he is desired to " hold up." Lastly, he must be taught to consider the sound of the gun as equivalent to the raised hand, or the woixl " charge," and to obey any one of these signals when at the top of his speed. Next, he must learn to answer the sound of the whistle, ac- cording to his master's teaching. The best signal is to turn and look at one sharp whistle, to come in at a prolonged blast. On turning his head, he is to follow the wafture of his master's hand to the right or left, and he is then to be instructed in breaking and quartering his ground regularly and evenly at the whistle, and the waive of the hand. Gradually he will come to understand the object of this teaching, and will quarter his ground alone. This is a very important part of breaking, for no dog can bo regarded as at all perfect, which only runs about its ground irre- gularly, without settled and orderly method, leaving great spaces uncrossed, and, perhaps, crossing other spaces several times over, wasting time thus, and failing to find much of its game ; and yet it is not unfair to say, that of fifty dogs turned out as broken dogs by Amei'ican breakers, not one has ever been instructed in the rudiments of this branch. As soon as the pup drops to shot perfectly, and steadily, and turns quickly to the whistle and call, having learned the neces- sity oi prompt and implicit obedience, and the certainty of punish- men* in case of wilfulness, he may be taken out alone, without a gun, to find game. He must thus be accustomed to the word " Toho," as the signal of pointing, and that so thoroughly, that he shall obey the word " Toho," by pointing steadily when there is no game. UPLAND SHOOTING. 357 This done, several young dogs may be taken out to exercise together, and taught all to drop at once at the word " charge," the raised hand, or the shot ; and all to stop or point simulta- neously at the word " Toho," and at the sight thereafter, by each of the other's point. All that is requisite in order to enforce these lessons, is stea- diness. The dogs must now be broke to fetch, and this is the hardest lesson of all; but no dog is perfect until he has learned it; for it is, in the first place, almost indispensable to making large bags in our wild wooded country, that dogs should fetch ; and, secondly, it tends, if properly done, to render dogs deli- berate and steady beyond all means in the world. This, like the " down-charge," must, in the first instance, be taught in the collar and cord, and under the whip. Obsei-ve, above all things in dog breaking, that a dog is never to be taught anything by coaxing, but always by the fear of pun- ishment. A dog which is taught by coaxing, if he turn sulky, can never be controlled, as he does not know what punishment means. A dog is taught to fetch by charging him, putting a ball or some soft substance into his mouth, closing his jaws on it, and replacing it, with gentle punishment, so often as he rejects it. This learned, he is forced by a repetition of the same process, to rise and carry it about — then to fetch it when dropped, or thrown, till he is perfect. Thereaftei-, he is made to down-charge first of all, when it is thro\m, and not to attempt to fetch it, unless desired to " fetch," to drop several times to the " charge," before reaching the ball, after being sent for it, and, lastly, to " charge" with his nose almost touching it. The final lesson of all is to deliver it quietly and willingly. All this is to be enforced by the whip, rigorously, but tempe- rately,— invariably, but never angrily, — with praise and caresses when he does well, and reproaches accompanying chastisement. All these things he must be accustomed to do, until they have 358 FKANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. become absolutely his second nature, without his conceiving to what the teaching is applicable. This accomplished, when he never fails of obeying these signals and orders — when he becomes thoroughly aware that the least infringement of commands is followed by sure infliction of the lash— when he perfonns the whole routine of his little instructions, with the mechanical stea- diness and coolness of a circus horse, take him out with the gun alone, and you will have no difficulty in controlling him, — he will rapidly come to apply his theory to practice — he will become passionately and devotedly fond of his sport, — ^his enthusiasm and ardor will increase the more, the more game is killed over him, while he will keep cool and obedient with little or no trouble. He will not associate his ideas of punishment with the game or the gun, but with the infringement of the old teachings, and he will in a very short time become — what he never would be if taken out half broke, and allowed to contract bad habits, and to com- mit faults before he knows that they are faults — perfect. In this case the prevention comes before the commission of the fault, and the error itself is checked by a word before it is committed. In another word, the dog is not flogged for flushing his bird, or failing to back his comrade, but for refusing obedience to the word " toho" — not flogged for running in to bite a bird, but for disobeying the word " charge," the raised hand, or the sound of the shot. If you wait till the temptation of eagerness and impetuosity in the field, is added to the natural difficulty of teaching, you will toil in vain. No dog can ever be made o. perfect dog, who IS, not. perfectly broke to " down-charge," to " toho," to " fetch," and to obey implicitly, before a bird is killed over him. This is the shibboleth, the grand arcanum of dog breaking. All the rest is mere practice and experience, which make perfect both the- teacher and the taught. Young dogs should always be hunted alone, or with other young dogs. But it is far better to hunt them quite alone, until such time as they come to understand their work thoroughly, and to feel confidence in themselves. UPLAND SHOOTING. 359 If hunted with knowing old dogs, puppies will soon come to depend on them entirely ; will follow them, and watch their every motion, and never learning to beat their own ground, or fin-:l their own game, will content themselves with backing, in- stead of pointing, and will become timid, and ultimately useless. Hunting puppies, on the contrary, together, will tend to make them all wild and rash, and to induce their mutually learning the faults of all. On the whole, therefore, it is the better way to hunt young dogs singly during their first season, killing as many birds over them as possible ; and, at the beginning of the second year, re- membering that brace-hunting is the proper sphere of Pointers, or Setters, to introduce them to mates of their own ages, and thenceforth always to hunt, and, as much as you can, feed the same braces together. One brace of dogs, accustomed so to live and beat together, will do better work a-field, than three dogs of equal qualities, all working each " on his own hook." So much for the rules of dog breaking ! With regard to practice and management in the field, there is little or nothing to be said, beyond what I have already laid down, pass i?n, under the heads of the various kinds of Upland shooting. Dogs should not be harassed by too many, and never by con- trary, orders. No fault should ever be passed over in silence, and very few will be committed. Punishment should be in- flicted as rarely as possible, but when it is inflicted, it should be done thoroughly and severely. Never holloa at a dog — never run aft;er a dog, but either make him come back to you, or bide your time till he becomes tired and returns of his own accord, then punish for the double event When you enter a field, or covert, which you propose to beat, bid your dogs " hold up," and waive them right and left. Turn them by a whistle, and waive them hither or thither. Wlien they strike a bevy of Quail, or other game, never hurry after them, but make them go slow by the word " steady." If they are rash, be you deliberate. If you hurry on, you best encou- 360 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. rage their hurrying. Never mind if they flush one bevy, and you lose one shot. Be steady, and punish, so that they will not do so again. Wlien they point, flush your own bird, even if you get a worse shot at it than you would do by hieing on your dog. To do so will make him heedless and headstrong. If you kill, stand still, cry " dov/n-charge," and load your gun. If the dogs run in, don't run after them, it will only make them run the faster. Stand still, and cry " down," till you have done loading. Then go on deliberately, never heed the dead bird, which is probably half eaten by this time, but drag the offender back to the place whence he started, crying " down- charge," and lashing him all the way, — then hold him down, and flog him most severely. Make him lie still, without stin'ing, till you have brought the bird, and laid it close under his nose. Then make him pick it up, and give it you, — he will not run in many times, if so dealt withal. Break your dogs thus, or have them thus broken, and when they are broken, handle them thus in the kennel, and in the field, and my word on it, they will be, and continue good ones. END OF VOLUME ONE. I '