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FRAN

ANK FORESTER.

FRANK FORESTER'S

FIELD SPOETS

OF TTTR

UNITED STATES

AND

BRITISH PROVINCES OF FORTH AMERICA.

BY
HENRY "WILLIAM! HERBERT,

AUTHOR OF FRANK FORESTER'S " FISn AND FISHING," "HORSE AND HORSEMANSHIP," "THE COM
PLETE MANUAL FOR YOUNG SPORTSMEN," ETC.

There is exhilaration in the chase —
Not bodily only. *****

It is a mingled rapture, and we find
The bodily spirit mounting to the mind.

Sir Egerton Brydgeb.

NEW EDITION, CONTAINING NUMEROUS CORRECTIONS AND ADDITIONP

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM NATURE, AND A BRIEF

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR.

IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. I.

NEW YORK:
W. A. TOWNSEND, PTTZBILISIIER.

1 864

SK

33 '

i.l

Entered according to an Act of Congress, in the year 1848,

BY STRINGER AND TOWNSEND.

In the Cleri's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New- York.

C. A. ALVORD, Printer,
No. 15 Vandewater Street, N. Y.

AUG -fi S73

rfOSTON COLLEGE LIBRA*!

CHESTNTTT HILL, MAS*.

5C4818

To

COLONEL -WA-TDtt HAMPTON,

OF "the woodlands, south Carolina,

THIS WOEK ON THE

Jfielb Sports ai t\t t&niteh %iuitt,

BRITISH PROVINCES OP NORTH AMERICA,

VERY RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED, AS A TRIBUTE OF HOMAGE TO TUB

FIRST SPORTSMAN IN THE LAND

BY HIS OBDT SERVANT,

PRANK FORESTER.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

©f Volume ©ne.

PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR, Frontispiece.

Rocky Mountain Sheep and Goats 32

Canada Grouse 70

American Snipe 91

Green and Blue- Winged Teal 119

Snipe Shooting . ..... 137

American Woodcock .. . . . . . 169

Ruffed Grouse . . . ..... 248

American Quajl .... . . . 263

CONTENTS OF VOLUME ONE.

MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR, pp. xi-xM

Introductory Observations . . .... 11

The Game of North America .30

Upland Shooting of the Northern States and British

Provinces .......... 45

The Pinnated Grouse 49

The Ruffed Grouse 64

The Canada Grouse 71

American Quail 80

The Woodcock . . 86

Common Snipe ......... 91

Bartram's Tatler 94

The American Hare 100

The Northern Hare 108

The Mallard 106

The Dusky Duck ......... 110

The Blue-Winged Teal . . . . . . .115

The Green -Winged Teal 119

The Wood Duck— Summer Duck 122

The Pintail Duck r. 128

Upland Shooting of the Eastern and Middle States and of

the British Provinces 134

Spring Snipe Shooting 137

Summer Woodcock Shooting 169

Upland Plover Shooting 201

Autumn Cock Shooting 209

vm

CONTENTS.

Quail Shooting 219

Ruffed Grouse Shooting 240

Grouse Shooting 248

Autumn Shooting 263

Rail ; and Rail Shooting 274

Rail Shooting 293

Duck Shooting on Inland Waters 299

Sporting Dogs 318

The Setter 319

The Pointer 334

The Cocking Spaniel 338

Kennel Management 841

Field Management of Dogg . . . . . . 300

ADVERTISEMENT

TO THE EIGHTH EDITION.

I have little to say in the Preface to the eighth edition of the
following work on Field Sports, first issued in 1849 ; my reasons
for producing it, at this moment, will be found in the body of the
book itself ; but, once for all, it appeared to me that such a work
was needed, at this juncture, and that its publication might pos-
sibly tend, in some small degree, to avert the impending doom
which seems to have gone forth from the democracy of the land
against game of all sorts.

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 I 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, Mr. 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," De Kay's " Natural History of New York," and
Godman's " American Natural History," — and to all these
gentlemen I beg to express the high sense I feel, of the aid I have

X ADVERTISEMENT.

derived from their excellent works. To my friend, William
T. Porter, I need not apologise for the two or three pages I have
borrowed from his admirable edition of " Hawker on Shooting,"
as he would pardon, doubtless, a heavier offence to a fellow work-
er 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 kiudly laid open his cabinet for
my use.

Since issuing my first edition, many criticisms — some very cor-
rect and courteous, others just as incorrect, uncandid, and ungen-
tlemanly — have led me to review some of my opinions ; and those
which are found incorrect, will be found entirely altered and re-
written. This is the case with the article on the Pinnated
Grouse, concerning which I have obtained much valuable infor-
mation from an eminent Western sportsman, which will be found
embodied in this edition.

A tour to the North-West and the Great Lakes has enabled me
to give some farther information regarding that very interesting
region ; and much communion during this spring with a very well
known Prairie and Rocky Mountain Hunter, Mr. T. M. Adams,
of Independence, Missouri, has confirmed me in some of my
views, and enabled me to correct errors in others in relation to
the Wild Sports of the West.

This said, nothing remains but to express my hope, that my
labors may be not wholly vain, and that my doctrines may meet
the favorable censure of those, for whose use they are intended —
the Sportsmen of America.

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT.

The above preface is the latest prepared by Mr. Herbert, while antici-
pating the pleasure of issuing this revised edition, shortly prior to his sudden
decease. The index also, has been carefully adapted to the numerous addi-
tions in the work, and is now believed to be both accurate and complete.

A FEW MEMOIRS

OF

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT,

BETTER AND MORE FAMILIARLY KXOWK A3

I 4

FRANK FORESTER."

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together : our virtues would
be proud if our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would despair if they were not
cherished by our virtues." — Shakespeare.

[The publisher intended to have availed himself of the pleasing pen of
one of Mr. Herbert's most intimate and most esteemed friends, the late
William T. Porter, Esq., the popular editor of the " Spirit of the Times," as
the best qualified and most suitable biographer of the departed "Frank
Forester." Mr. Porter, however, being in feeble health, the following
sketch was prepared by a mutual friend of all the parties, with the inten-
tion of obtaining Mr. Porter's approval as a prefix. In the mean time, a
verification occurred of the solemn proverb, "Man proposes — God dis-
poses.!' William T. Porter himself is now numbered among those who
have " gone before."

The publisher is enabled to say, however, that the manuscript of the
following sketch has been examined by several of the most prominent
associates of both the deceased gentlemen, connected with either the Press
or the Turf, and it has been honored with their entire and most cordial
approbation.]

After the injunction of " silence," so earnestly im-
plored by the unfortunate — infelicissimus, most unfor-
tunate— gentleman whose real and assumed names are
here mentioned, there may, possibly, be some appearance

XI 1 A FEW MEMOIRS OF

of presumption, or disrespect, in making any attempt at
a relation of the principal incidents in his life.

Still, as " Frank Forester," the lover of Nature, the
charming writer, the Shakespeare of sporting literature,
Herbert's name and fame have now become a species of
American public property, as it were, in which every
person using the English language takes a hearty interest ;
and, without intending any disregard to the personal
wishes of their dear, departed friend — for such his read-
ers all feel and know him to be — his spiritual life and his
literary influence have now commenced to shine forth in
their true glory, and possess a greater hold than ever
upon the public mind, as if enough never could be writ-
ten or printed concerning so versatile and fascinating an
author.

Yes, indeed ; by the matchless works Herbert has left
to speak for him, he is with us more than ever — in spirit
— upon the hill-top, in the flowery dell, tracing the sides
of mountain brooks from bright and breezy eminences, or
holding lofty communion with Nature among the leafy
arches and solemn shades in our glorious old woods. As
a writer, he has stamped the current impress of his gen-
ius upon a young and confederated nation, just beginning
to find out its vast possessions in topography and resources,
yielding to its inhabitants almost every variety of climate
and production. "Frank Forester," with his pen, ac-
companies us like some well-experienced surveyor, walk-
ing about with a divining rod. " Our Frank " does more.
He pleasantly introduces us to this, that, or the other
— whatever may be most worthy of observation — in
earth, air, or water. He points out how to cherish and
preserve what an all-bountiful Providence has in store for
the active, the patient, or the resolute. He is the " Peter
Parley " of his delighted followers. We incontinently
shoulder our smooth-bore, lug the knapsack, or continue

HENRY WILLIAM IIERBERT. XI 11

to hold a fishing-rod with both hands, perhaps, even if
6ome attendant mosquitoes are busily digging into our
cuticle. We feel fairly enlisted, with all our manhood.
We could follow such a leader as Herbert to any Sebas-
topol, or through any Dismal Swamp. Health and activ-
ity would thus give Mercury's wings to our heels, secur-
ing a firm cohesion for our brains ; and, in town or
country, in house or field, while the English language
goes on growing in grace or grandeur, the fame and in-
fluence of Henry William Herbert must be ever present
among our household sentiments and familiar conversa-
tions, especially as not one of his writings can he found to
contain any improper tendencies. !No wonder that the
name of "Frank Forester" is already ranked among the
most endearing of our "household words." Wherever
we may go, the spirit of this instructive and pleasing
writer seems to be with us. If we only look out upon the
road, or go to the stable, we are reminded of Herbert's
influence as soon as our eyes rest upon a horse. The
horse itself has advanced in comfort and civilization, so
to speak, although he may never have known the bene-
factor of his race, perhaps, in the flesh — never had an
opportunity to trustingly rest his nose on Herbert's shoul-
der. But, Herbert has reached that horse. The genial
spirit of " Frank Forester " has penetrated and dispersed
the dark days of mismanagement, whispering a good
word or two in season, among the right parties, appealing
to the natural affections of the noble animal, and calling
forth the loyal response of all the gallant creature's fidel-
ity and endurance.

This is no exaggeration. The length and breadth of
this glorious land are now filled with the refreshing prac-
tical philosophy taught by " Frank Forester." We say
this not as a mere figure of speech ; we assert it as a fact,
honorable as well to the reading public as to the author

XIV A FEW MEMOIRS OF

they thus delight to honor. By the spiritualization of
intellect in Herbert's writings, even the largest and wild-
est of our American forests may become organized into
classification, as if one grand cathedral for the worship of
Nature in the study of natural history. The sunlight of
intelligence seems to come over the mountain-tops, and
stream in through the clearings, lake shores, or oak open-
ings, as if the trees it illuminates were architectural win-
dows, depicting sacred subjects for our contemplation
upon stained glass, and mellowing our souls with a sub-
limity of thought ascending like incense from an altar
which consumes all inordinate desires and city-bred arti-
ficialities. Surely then, no person who has ever read
Herbert's works would intentionally mar or interfere with
the legitimate operations of their genial and refining
influence.

~No ; the hand now tracing these lines obeys the mind
of a friend who would not, for worlds, be guilty of disre-
garding the last wishes of so delightful (to him) a com-
panion, and so completely qualified a public instructor as
Henry William Herbert. As the priest wears a ring in
token of marriage with the Church, so Herbert, with Ins
pen in hand, was always faithful and constant to his public.
A man so wayward — so peculiar — so often troublesome,
apparently, to those who had actual dealings with him,
is but rarely met with ; and yet, he always had one uni-
form degree of devotion to his readers. Even this was
more tacit than expressed, but it was, nevertheless,
uniform and consistent from the time he first began to
write for the public eye. Perhaps we might say, by way
of metaphor, that Herbert's only real wife was his public.
Certain it is that constant devotion on his part, and in-
creasing kindness on the other, has brought about a union
of such indissoluble happiness as deprives death of nearly
all its sting, and leaves the grave itself no victory.

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. XV

In accordance with and in response to a national — we
might almost say universal — wish for some biographical
particulars relating to II. W. Herbert, we may commence
by remarking that he was no curling-tongs count, nor
runaway banker's clerk, but precisety what he always
represented himself to be — an English gentleman, de-
scended from and connected with some of the oldest and
most aristocratic families in Great Britain and Ireland.

The Herberts (or Fitz-Herberts, as they are frequently
called in England) are undoubtedly of ancient origin and
high rank. The name of Fitz^Herbert, signifying Son-of-
Herbert, came into vogue in consequence of the long
interval between their early progenitor of importance,
who was lord-chamberlain to King Henry I. from about
1120 till 1135, and the creation of William Herbert as
Earl of Pembroke by Edward IV. in 1468.

Chamberlains were of some importance in England
about those days, especially when they acted as officier du
ftouche, or mouth-provider (chief butler), for their royal
masters. This office was always considered a safe position
for an ambitious man. Henry I. was killed by a surfeit
after eating too many lampreys — a kind of fish he was
very fond of— at Lyons, in Normandy. Edward IV.
generally overcame his surfeits ; but, when he made pris-
oner of the Duke of Clarence, one of his brothers, who
had joined in a rebellion against him under the Earl of
Warwick, he ordered the duke to be drowned in a butt
of Malmsey wine, and the sentence was duly executed by
the king's chief butler. These little facts are only men-
tioned here in order to show that the family of Herberts
would be likely to copy or inherit all the peculiar " no-
tions " of monarchy since the days of the Norman kings ;
and, wherein they have not, we must give their heads and
hearts credit for the difference.

The English people have gradually made their mon-

XVI A FEW MEMOIRS OF

archs understand the necessity and convenience of good
behavior. Henry I. was the third of the four Norman
kings. Then came fourteen of the Plantagenet family.
Edward IV. was the twelfth among them. Then came
five of the house of Tudor. Then followed six of the
Stuart line. After these came five of the Brunswick
line ; and, finally, Queen Victoria. Now, as Henry I.
(like his brother, William Rufus) was a son of William
the Conqueror, the Herberts may be said to have seen
and survived nearly all the important changes in English
society. There are but two other families more ancient
in the provision of good things for the royal tables.
These are the Botelers and the Dalbiacs, who " came in
with the Conqueror."

While attempting to judge of Herbert's character, all
these antecedents of his family should be considered, as
of course they (unconsciously to him) helped to form in
his mind those notions of classification and exclusiveness
which seem so absurd and inexplicable to persons not
acquainted with their historical origin and ancestral or
legal importance. Herbert would be pleasant among
gentlemen whom he knew to be such, according to his
ideas ; he would also be quite affable and jolly among his
jockey acquaintances ; but, as soon as he came near what
are sometimes called "gentlemen-jocks," he seemed to
try how ugly and wilful he could behave. Such was one
of his " notions." He thus caused himself to be much
misunderstood, and sometimes seemed to revel in the
misunderstanding. He wronged himself, however, more
than anybody else, for strangers cared not a snap about
his notions, while those who knew him also knew that his
heart was full of universal sympathy, and the sympathy-
seeking cast of his mind was admirably well qualified for
adapting the most matured maxims of art to the fresh
feelings and candid expressions of a free and independent

HENRY WILLIAM HEBBEBT. XV11

people, as all his writings most conclusively show. TIow
frequently do the most worthy individuals and greatest
nations misunderstand each other's manners and cus-
toms !

The first Earl of Pembroke, already mentioned, was
taken prisoner by the Lancasterian party, and beheaded
by them in about a year after he obtained his earldom.
His wife was Anne Devereaux, sister of Lord Ferrers of
Chantley. She had a large family, but William Herbert's
successors became extinct in the male line after two more
generations. From William's brother, however, have
descended, the famous Herberts of Cherbury, and one of
these became Earl Powis in 1746. This line also became
extinct in a similar way, and. passed with a daughter of
Earl Powis into the family of the famous Lord Clive,
where it yet remains.

We do not know whether there is, or need be, any
"bar sinister" upon the subject in the heraldic insignia
of the Herberts, but it so happened, that the aforesaid
William Herbert, first Earl of Pembroke, left a son by a
Welsh lady who bore his name of Herbert, in Montgom-
eryshire. The son of that son married. Anne Parr, sister
of Catharine Parr, the sixth and. last wife of Henry VIII.
This renewed the influence of the Herberts at court ; and,
after "Old. Harry" was dead, in the year 1551, during
the reign of Edward. YL, the grandson of the first earl
received the title of Earl of Pembroke by a new creation,
joined, with that of Earl of Montgomery, inherited on the
maternal side. This title is now held by Eobert Herbert,
a descendant of the eighth generation, but reckons by
fraternal mutations of the line as the twelfth Earl of Pem-
broke and the ninth Earl of Montgomery. Sidney Her-
bert, late Secretary of War in the British cabinet, is a
brother to this personage.

Among the younger sons of Thomas Herbert, the

XV1U A FEW MEMOIRS OF

eighth Earl of Pembroke, was General "William Herbert,
who distinguished himself greatly in the public service,
and also had the good fortune to marry Eliza Wyndham,
distinguished as the great-grand-daughter of the Duke of
Somerset and of Elizabeth Percy, who was a sister of the
, last Earl of Northumberland, of the old continental line
of Joscelyn of Louvain. General William Herbert was,
therefore, on these accounts, raised to the peerage, with
the title of Earl of Carnarvon, in 1793.

The third son of this first Earl of Carnarvon was the
Hon. and Rev. William Herbert, subsequently Dean of
Manchester, and the father of the subject of these me-
moirs. Hence, it is clear that our own " Frank Forester,"
the modern author, was a descendant of the proud Per-
cys, the irascible Joscelyns, and the ducal Somersets,
commingled with the agricultural Herberts, as well as
the literary and liberty-loving Sidneys. On the maternal
side, besides the original Welsh blood of the Montgomery
stock, he inherited an Irish influence of the very highest
character, his mother being the Hon. Letitia Allyn, second
daughter of Viscount Allyn of Kildare, one of the Irish
representative peers, and a branch of the princely Lein-
ster line. This estimable lady is now living in May Fair,
London. Herbert's father, the Dean of Manchester, is
best known to American readers as the author of "Attila."
He was a profound scholar, and died in 1847.

Henry William Herbert was born in London on the
7th of April, 1807, a year which has been made famous
by giving America her Longfellow and her Willis. Un-
til the age of twelve, Master Henry was taken charge of
by private tutors in his father's house, which, in those
days especially, was a general resort for parliamentary
wits and distinguished scholars. On entering his teens,
Henry was sent to Dr. Hooker's academy at Brighton, on
the Sussex coast. In April, 1820, commencing his four-

lll.XliV WILLIAM BEKBEBT. >;ix

tcentli year, he was entered at Eton, where his happy
powers of analysis, or of synthesis, astonished all the pro-
fessors. He made snch remarkable progress that in L825
his father sent, him to Cains College, Cambridge, and in
the class of 1829-'30 he graduated thence.

While at Cambridge the society of the youthful Her-
bert was eagerly sought after by more wealthy young
commoners ; and, as lie was equally anxious to associate
with them, he gradually formed some very expensive
htfbits. In books and in clothing, boating, racing, tandem
drives, etc., he scattered money extravagantly ; but there
are always very kind old gentlemen, around colleges
especially, who know a young man's pedigree and con-
nections as well, if not better, than he does himself, and
who have a particular regard for lending money to young
gentlemen with large expectations themselves or parents
able to pay up all forfeits. One of the best things Her-
bert did while at Cambridge was to join a troop of Cam-
bridgeshire Yeomanry Cavalry, a full squadron of which
was occasionally " camped out" on the routes between
Cambridge and Huntingdon, Peterborough, Lynn, Nor-
wich, and sometimes as far north as Boston in Lincoln-
shire, as the different counties might invite each other's
members, generally freeholders of the county, but always
willing to receive recruits from among the collegians.
By the knowledge of equestrian and field movements thus
acquired, Herbert was subsequently enabled to give us
those fine descriptions of Roman battles, sieges, and cam-
paigns (by the way, the historian Gibbon has made use
of a similar advantage in early education among his
works), which Herbert's delighted readers find in " The
Captains of the Old World," or in " The Eoman Repub-
lic," and which he intended to have continued. Much
of the supposed hauteur of Herbert's manner arose from
the fact that his mind was so frequently " pre-occupied "

XX A FEW MEMOIRS OF

— as the French would say — with some other scene, in
other lands, and among other languages, so that his return
to present realities, and the use of vernacular English,
required a mental effort which might easily be mistaken
for lack of courtesy. There need be no doubt of this, for
in his writings the magnetic chord of attraction is never
interrupted between him and his readers, or between
them and him. ]SFor does he make any parade of learned
lore, either by allusion or quotation, except as they would
suggest themselves to those scholars who can revel in
similar flights of classic exploration and poetic adaptation.
And yet, of all the writers ever gifted to charm all
classes, we know of no one who has more uniformly kept
in view the old maxim that — verbum dulce multiplicat
amieos, etc. — sweet language will multiply friends, and a
fair-speaking tongue will multiply kind greetings.

These considerations and circumstances remind us of
the often mentioned difference implied by the exhorta-
tion— "Do as I preach, no matter what I may do?
While at college, Herbert had so rapidly acquired a rest-
less and reckless way of living, that his parents could
exercise little or no control over him. He plunged
deeper and deeper into debt after coming of age ; and, on
being " whitewashed " for the third time by the insolvency
process, the usual sentence of outlawry for debt was pub-
lished. Herbert then voluntarily went to Brussels, and
afterwards to Paris ; but neither the Continent, nor Eu-
rope itself, were large enough for his peculiar ideas, and
" no pent-up Utica " could satisfy him ; nothing short of
" a boundless continent," like that of America, seemed
worthy of his notice.

Herbert landed in this country about JSTovember, 1831,
and the few hundred pounds he brought with him having
been soon expended, he was compelled to turn his atten-
tion to business. He readily obtained an engagement as

HENBY WILLIAM HERBERT. XXI

a teacher of Greek in the Rev. R. Townscnd Huddart'a
classical and fashionable school, which at that time was
in Beaver street, near Broadway. The duties of his station,
and the select company he met with, were too much like
those at his father's house at home. Herbert was, like
llazlitt, "an untamable lover of liberty," and he gradually
began to write for the press, in a sort of anonymous man-
ner, but with no objection to the pecuniary results. Mak-
ing the acquaintance of the editor of the " Spirit of the
Times," Col. Wm. T. Porter, the " tall son of York,?' Her-
bert's contributions were gladly received. He then " did
up the reviews " for the " Courier and Enquirer," and
soon made his mark as a keen and trenchant reviewer.
Notwithstanding a discovery of these facts, it is due to
the memory of the deceased to state that he retained the
most honorable confidence, while giving perfect satifac-
tion, at Mr. Huddart's school for eight years.

In 1834, Herbert's first historical novel, "The Bro-
thers, a Tale of the Fronde," was published by the Har-
pers, and was very favorably received by the public.
Such a writer certainly was an acquisition in those days,
and the American mind readily acknowledged the au-
thor's claims to distinction. For some reasons we do not
understand, and have no wish to interfere with, this work
has been allowed to go out of print, although it is said
that the pages are stereotyped, and the plates are in pos-
session of Messrs. Harper, who refuse to allow any further
use to be made of them. Herbert was for a lone; time
known to the public only by the title of " author of The
Brothers," etc., but he never offered the Harpers any
more of his MSS. A member of that enterprising firm is
said to have been "hit off" in the " "Warwick Woodlands."

From 1833 to 1836, Herbert was, more or less, con-
nected with the "American Monthly Magazine," some-
times writing all the editorial matter, having succeeded

XXI 1 A FEW MEMOIRS OF

Dr. A. D. Patterson, and joined Charles F. Hoffman in its
editorial management.

In 1837, Herbert's reputation as a writer of historical
novels seemed fully confirmed by the appearance of
" Cromwell," which was even more favorably received by
the American public than " The Brothers."

In 1838, Herbert became mixed up in a dispute lead-
ing to a proposed duel, which would undoubtedly have
taken place but for a severe snow-storm, which prevented
the parties from meeting in Canada as intended. The
second of his antagonist, having subsequently reproached
Herbert with cowardice at "Washington Hall, in New
York, the latter fired twice at his accuser, but the balls
went into the door of the room as the other gentleman
went out. This affair furnished much gossip for the small
daily papers then coming into notice.

Washington Hall was on the Reade street corner of
what is now known as Stewart's marble palace in Broad-
way. This hotel was the general head-quarters of all the
"men about town," and the " Bucks of Washington Hall"
was a title commonly given to the frequenters of its bar-
room. All the " odd fish " and " strange geniuses " were
sure to go there, by a sort of tacit understanding, as soon
as they arrived in New York. The hotel became partic-
ularly famous after it had been visited by Madame Mali-
bran, and here it was that Mr. Gilfert, then proprietor of the
Bowery Theatre, offered the gifted songstress the articles of
an engagement, with blanks left for herself to insert such
terms of payment as she might think proper. The arrival,
in 1831, of such an "invincible " as Herbert threw "the
whole crowd " into ecstasies. His cavalier boots, with
King Charles spurs, were voted' "just the cheese." His
moustaches, such articles being rarely seen in Broadway
during those days, attracted many a fair one's favorable
glance from the opposite or fashionable side of the way.

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. XXI 11

We do not mean to imply that Herbert was an inmate
at Washington Hall, although, like hundreds of others,
he visited the house occasionally. He was boarding at
the Carlton House, whither he had gone in 1836, because
his connection with the " Courier and Enquirer " and
other papers, all published down town, had become 60
intimate as to engross a large portion of his time. James
O. Sargent was in those days one of the leading editors
of the " Courier," and a strong team — from Matthew L.
Davis around to Charles A. Burdett — "were engaged to
iill the various departmental duties. As a reviewer and
an occasipnal contributor of poetry, Herbert's name and
presence became familiar in literary, artistic, and musical
circles. As a natural consequence, his handsome person
and fascinating manners caused the society of such a man
to be much courted by the ladies, but his thoughts were
too much occupied by his writings or by "the jolly dogs
of the clubs " to seriously entertain the idea of marriage.

In this state of affairs, Herbert was requested, one day
in 1839, to accompany one of his literary friends, Mr.
Joseph A. Scoville, on a wedding tour to Bangor, in
Maine. Mr. Scoville was at that time in wealthy and
promising circumstances. He was about to marry a Miss
Barker, daughter of the then Mayor of Bangor. Herbert
found that Scoville had so much set his mind upon hav-
ing him as groomsman at the wedding that at last he con-
sented to accompany the expectant bridegroom. The
inconvenience of leaving business in New York would be
compensated by a round trip of a thousand miles, and the
pleasure of witnessing a joyful occasion.

After arriving at Bangor, there was, for some unac-
countable reason, a slight delay. In the mean time, the
astounding discovery was made that the intended bride
was quite willing for the ceremonies of sacrifice at the
hymenial altar to proceed, ~but it was with Henry William

£X1V A FEW MEMOIKS OF

Herbert only for her husband ; and thus the aforesaid
Joseph A. Scoville found himself in a peculiarly perplex-
ing predicament, and his mind has, we believe, never
fully recovered from this distressing shock to its original
sensibilities. These circumstances are a subject of gossip
down to the present day in Bangor. This is, undisputa-
bly, a free country ; our Puritan brothers in the East
have peculiar ideas of European nobility ; and the sway
of female power is not only absolute but unquestionable
in American society. The real motives of action in such
cases are necessarily of a private nature, and it is not
likely that they ever can be properly understoqd by out-
side lookers-on. We have here stated such facts as are
known to have occurred, and they go to show that H. W.
Herbert was not the only odd character in his day and
generation. As " Death loves a shining mark," so does
" the reptile spirit of calumny."

History teaches that royal marriages, when conducted
by proxy, sometimes lead to dangerous perils from the
despotism of love. The ambassador is frequently thought
more of than the prince who sent him. But Herbert was
.not the man to play the part of Dandini to any other
man's Prince Eelix — Cinderella or no Cinderella. Her-
bert's principal was present.

The general consistency of Herbert's spirit-life may be
seen in the fact that a happy marriage made him more
useful and more admirable in society. Domestic disquiet
being a fatal bar to all sublimity of attainment, no man —
however great he may be in the way of genius or of indus-
try— can possibly prosper under such despotic and
obtrusive misery. But, with a happy home, all the ordi-
nary troubles of life are deprived of any serious influence,
and the man has some chance for shining forth in his true
character. So it was with Herbert. In 1840, the year
his son was born, Herbert extended his literary and poet-

llh.NKV WILLIAM HKBBEBT. XXV

ical contribul ions to the press more freely than ever. It
was at this interesting period when the name, of " Frftiik
Forester" became created from Herbert's Jove-like brain,
and the world has consented to receive

"FRANK FORESTER"

with all the honors, regardless of title or nation, heraldic
devices or peerage books, but simply for that love of
Nature which makes "all mankind akin." The name of
"Frank Forester" soon became famous by carrying on a
very spirited controversy in the "American Turf Regis-
ter " with the able articles furnished by " Cypress, Jr."
"Our Frank" was joyfully received among the great
family of public favorites. His " Ringwood the Rover "
and " Warwick Woodlands," caused a general desire to
have " a few more of the same sort." While thus en-
gaged in producing some of the finest novels in his day,
he found time to contribute many a good fugitive article
to the " Knickerbocker Magazine," " Graham's Maga-
zine," and several other periodicals. There was scarely
an issue of the last named magazine without one, two, and
sometimes three, articles from Herbert's ready pen ; and
these were generally thrown off by him without much
thought or finish, as merely mental pastime among his
other more permanent literary labors.

One of the articles Herbert furnished to Graham in
1841, was " The Roman Bride," a beautiful story, in which
the general character of Attila the Hun, as portrayed by
Herbert's father in his famous poem of "Attila," is well
exemplified by the incidents attending the interruption of
the bride's marriage with Aurelius, and the dreadful com-
bat between the sturdy barbarians of the Hun and the
gallant champions of Roman virtue. The subject is re-
nowned for its artistic beauties, and Herbert's treatment

XXVI A FEW MEMOIRS OF

of it is a fine specimen of his doubly-gifted power of
description and condensation.

Another of the articles sent to Graham in 1841, was
"The Marriage of Achilles," which attracted general
attention, for it showed the immense wealth of classic lore
in the author's mind, and his ability to concentrate and
reweave the charming fruits of previous ages of study
into the small scope of a magazine article. It astonished
some of our oldest and best-read collegians with its abun-
dance of historical detail, and it delighted the most super-
ficial readers with its easily intelligible gorgeousness of
description, partaking of both the voluptuous and heroic.
The article read as if the old spirit of Grecian mythology
had taken up a new abode among the brightness of the
American continent, to keep alive our love of the beau-
tiful, while showing the ancient sword of military warfare
crowned with a wreath of orange-blossoms and myrtle
leaves, surrounded by a halo of poetic glory, " lambent
and imitative of the lights that stud the empyrean."

However, our purpose at present requires us to pass
on without stopping to indulge in a consideration of Her-
bert's writings, except so far as they give some outline of
his life and character. Suffice it to say, that public favor
induced him to gradually make his choice of subjects more
familiar ; for, with all his faults, he was true to his great
patron — the American people. His " Marmaduke "Wj vil ;
or, the Maid's Revenge," published in 1843, was uncom-
monly well received, but he wrote more and more sport-
ing matter as he found " Frank Forester " was a more
potent name than even that of H. W. Herbert. His con-
nection with the " Spirit of the Times," and its then
editor, "Wm. T. Porter, was Herbert's most magnetic
link of communication with popular favor, and many a
" spicy article " has been concocted among the frequent-
ers near the " old Spirit " office, when it was in Barclay

IIKNUV WILLIAM HERBERT. XXV11

street under the American Hotel, on the corner of Broad-
way, in the good old days of Col. Cozzens. This kind of
influence subsequently brought forth those treatises on
sporting matters and natural history which have now be-
come standard works in our national literature.

Mr. and Mrs. Herbert, shortly after marriage removed
from the Carlton House, in New York, to the Park House
in Newark, N. J. In 1846, Mrs. Herbert died while at
the latter place. Their son had been sent to England,
where he found great favor with all his father's relatives,
and his education had been already undertaken by them.
A proposition was made for the purchase of a house and
homestead for the youthful Herbert, which, however,
should be inalienable for any other purpose, except it
might be as a residence for H. ~W. Herbert (held by a
deed of trust) until his son became of age. Herbert, hav-
ing long liked " the Cedars," a little shooting-box between
Newark and Belleville, suggested its adoption, and took
up his entire residence there shortly after Mrs. Herbert's
death. It is a romantic little spot, only an acre of ground,
and the cottage is built in the Mary Tudor style, so situ-
ated as to be embowered in foliage.

Here the mind of " Frank Forester " gave forth " My
Shooting Box," " Ballads of the American Revolution,"
"The Field Sports of America," "The Deer Stalkers,"
"The Quorndon Hounds," "Fish and Fishing of North
America," "Game in its Seasons," "The Young Sports-
man's Manual," and, finally, his great work on " The
Horse and Horsemanship of America." Among the un-
finished works at the time of his death were, " Tricks and
Traps of Horsedealers," "Hints to Horsekeepers," etc.

As H. W. Herbert he was equally busy, although,
perhaps not yet so popularly known, by such works as
" The Roman Traitor, a Romance founded on Cataline's
Conspiracy," published in 1848. This was followed by

XXVH1 A FEW MEMOIRS OF .

"A Metrical Translation of the Prometheus and Aga-
memnon of yEschylus," " Henry VIII. and his Six
Wives," " The Cavaliers of England," " The Chevaliers
of France," "The Knights of England, France, and Scot-
land," "The Captains of the Old World," "Persons and
Pictures from the Histories of France and England,"
"The Captains of the Roman Republic," and "The
Wager of Battle." But the greatest effort in this class of
writing remains unfinished — a spirited translation from
the " Iliad " of Homer ; there is also a beautifully roman-
tic account of "The Marys of History," the MS. being
quite complete, as he left it, but of course additional
characters might be selected.

Besides these acknowledged works, his contributions
to newspapers and magazines are almost countless. In
1850 he gave much time to a paper called "The Sunday
Era," and in 1 851 to another called " The Sachem," both
published in Kew York. He also contributed many ar-
ticles to what is now known as "Ballou's Pictorial," in
Boston. Dr. Patterson's "Anglo-American," about 1839,
had fledged his pen for newspapers.

We have more occasion to speak of Herbert as a
writer than his private affairs as a man ; but, in order to
make this sketch as complete as possible, we must record
the fact that he had some trifling dispute with a legal
gentleman named Valentine, which resulted in a duel,
and took place near Herbert's residence at " the Cedars."
After Herbert had been shot near one of his ankles, and
Mr. Valentine lost a button from his waistband, the affair
was amicably settled. By a sad coincidence with Her-
bert's subsequent fate, we may state that Mr. Valentine
committed suicide shortly after this duel. The previous
duel in which Herbert's name was concerned owed most
of its notoriety to the fact that it almost immediately fol-
lowed the fatal rencontre between Barton and Graham, at

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. XXIX

ITobokcn. The duel with Mr. Valentine attracted but
little notice, and we should hardly mention it here except
for the sake of impartiality.

Our duty now leads us to a much more delicate affair,
in which we hope to be correct without intrusion. In
February, 1858, the newspapers of Newark, N. J., and
New York, announced the marriage of Henry William
Herbert with Adela R. Budlong, as having taken place
on the 16th of that month. They were married by the
Rev. John Shackleford, at the Episcopalian House of
Prayer, in Newark. This announcement caused consider-
able gossip, but that soon subsided. Herbert was in
ecstasies with his new choice, and sad only when she was
absent. In a few weeks, among the callers upon the
newly married lady was a person who professed to knowr
much of Herbert's affairs, and also to have such a great
regard for the new Mrs. Herbert that she could not take
her leave without giving her a large amount of very spicy
information, taking great care, howTever, to exact a prom-
ise that the name of the informant should not be re-
vealed.

From that moment, peace fled the happy abode at
" the Cedars." All poor Herbert's plans of reformatio^
and future improvement were upset. Mrs. Herbert is
said to have left the house while he was absent in New
York, whither he had gone to engage rooms at the Ste-
vens House, thinking that more lively company and less
slanderous callers would be more agreeable for Mrs. Her-
bert. His clear use of reason never fully rallied after he
discovered her departure ; and, when he received a letter
stating that she would not visit him again, he spoke fre-
quently of committing suicide, on the same day of the
month in which he was married. His friends became
alarmed, and watched his movements ; but, about two
o'clock in the morning of the 17th of May, 1858, the un-

XXX A FEW MEMOIRS OF

fortunate gentleman shot himself while in his room at
the Stevens House, after withdrawing for a moment or
two from the presence of Mr. Philip Hone Anthon, who
had been in his company all the previous day and even-
ing. The result was fatal. Two letters were found upon
Herbert's table. One was addressed to "the coroner,"
and the other to " the Press of the United States." They
read as follows : —

Monday, May 16, 1S5S (three months since the happiest day of my life.)

To avoid all trouble, and simplify your duty, I have to state that
I have taken my own life by a pistol shot, no one being privy to my
doing it, or to my design.

My reason for this act consists in no remorse for what I have
done, or left undone ; from no pecuniary pressure, from no inability,
or fear of inability to support myself, from no weak fear of public
opinion, least of all of New York, which I do now, as I always have
done, utterly disregard and despise ; from no embarrassment arising
from any indebtedness.

I have abundance of employment, and the prospect of much more
— had the people of Newark, whom I forgive, from the bottom o'" my
heart, suffered me to live honorably and happily in my humble home,
and to amend my life where it was in error, in a new sphere, which I
was honestly prepared to do, I might have paid off all my debts, and
lived many years among you, an honest, useful, and happy man. My
debts will be paid from my assets to the last dollar.

It was not, however, so to be. My blood, and the guilt of it, is
upon those women and men who first sowed suspicion, distrust and dis-
sension between myself and the sweetest creature God ever gave, and
man took away from an unhappy sinner. My own unhappy temper
did the rest.

The reason for this act, then, is simple. My life, long, sad, soli-
tary and weary, and without an object beyond labor to earn a living
for the day, has become utterly hopeless, hateful, and unendurable. A
hope had been kindled in my heart again ; my home had got a light in
it brighter than sunshine ; my life had a purpose ; I loved her un-
utterably; I was immeasurably happy — all this has been dashed
down — all is lost forever. Home — hope — sunshine, she — let life go
likewise, since, henceforth, it is only another word for torture.

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. XXXI

I would not deny falsely one fault of which I am conscious, espe-
cially at this last moment — 1 would not deny that I erred towards her
whom this day shows that I loved more than life. I did err, but it
was hastily. In any act or rash word, never, so may God deal with
me, in thought or intimation. I never had one word with her about
money matters, nor cared — scarcely knew whether she had or had
not money. I never laid a hand or finger on her in wrath in my life.
What I said or did wrongly, I repented on the instant — I have en-
deavored to atone for it ever since — I die for it this day. I think, I
hope I deserve pity more than blame, but I know that I shall not find
it, least of all in Newark.

I can say truly, with my last breath, I never wronged man or
woman in my life by premeditation, or failed to ask pardon, or to make
atonement when I could do so. I never bore malice in my life. I
repent of all my faults and sins, and have endeavored to amend them.

I die in perfect peace and charity with all men. I ask forgiveness
of all those against whom I have sinned. I forgive all those who have
sinned against me, even the woman who called at my own house, and
set my wife's thoughts first against me — in proof of it I am sure I
know her, yet do not name her name. I beg God to forgive me, as I
forgive all my enemies. I die in perfect faith and trust in my Re-
deemer, and believe in him I shall have eternal life.

Henry William Herbert.

To the Press of the United States :

Before going to my account, I would say a few words to the Press
of America, and to its conductors, as to men among whom I have, for
many years, been more or less associated.

I have my faults, my failings : I have done my share of evil, in my
life, as all men have done ; perhaps I have done my share of good,
likewise.

Of my private history few men know any thing — fewer still know
much — no one knows the whole. It cannot concern the public to
know any thing. As a writer let me be judged — as a man let my
God judge me.

I implore not praise, nor a favorable construction — I implore
silence. For what I have to account with God, let me account with
God, and not with man ; who may uncertainly perceive and distin-

XXX11 A FEW MEMOIRS OF

guish facts, but certainly cannot perceive causes or divine motives and
intentions.

I do not even ask charity; I only implore silence. Let the good
that I have done, if any, be interred with my bones ; let the evil also.
For the evil, I can say positively, is such as can do no evil after me.
I have taught, I have inculcated, I have put forth nothing which I did
not believe to be good and true. In all my life I have written no
line of which I am ashamed — no word which I desire to blot.

I have done many things wrongly, many things of which I am
ashamed, many things of which I have sincerely repented, many
things, under the pressure of poverty and necessity, to which I am not
accustomed by my education, which, I hope, I should not do again
under any temptation.

I am very sorry. I have been weak at times, and have fallen—
who has not done so ?

For justice sake, for charity's sake, for God's sake, let me rest. I
bear an honorable name ; I have striven hard, in great trial, in great
temptation, in a foreign country, in a false position, among men who
did not, perhaps could not, sympathize with me, to keep it honorable.
As you would have your own names honored, and your sons preserve
them to you, I charge you, do not dishonor mine.

Few will miss me when I am gone ; probably none lament me —
so be it ! Only, I implore you, do not misrepresent and malign me.

Having said this, I have said nearly all — one word moi-e only — if,
as I presume will be the case, my earnest and hopeful appeal for re-
pose be disregarded — if the vultures of the Press pounce on my cold
remains, to tear through them the heartstrings of my living relatives
— to blazon forth all my misdeeds in unblushing colors to the sun —
let none of my friends — if I have a friend — stand forth to defend me.
Defence only provokes bitterer attacks, and gives a keener tooth to
scandal.

I die forgiving every man who has wronged me, asking forgiveness
of every man whom I have wronged. I have atoned so far as I know,
or can atone, for every wrong I have ever done.

I leave the means, I believe, if they be carefully managed, to pay
every thing that I owe, and perhaps to leave a small surplus. I never
shrank, while I was alive, from meeting the consequences of my deeds,
face to face. I never said a word to a man's back which I would not
or did not say to his face.

Remember now, all you that would assail me, that my tack is
turned, forever — that henceforth, forever, I can disprove no slander

IIKNKV WILLIAM HERBERT. XXX111

that is spoken of me; that with me no witness can be ever more con-
fronted ; that from no accusation, how false soever, can I prove my-
self not guilty. Of all cowardice, the most base and cruel is to strike
the dead, who can make no defence or answer.

I ask no praise — do not praise me — probably I deserve none.

I deserve reproach, doubtless, for I am mortal, and have sinned.
Say so, then, of me, if you say any thing, and let my sins go with my
mortality to His judgment who can tell not only when and where, but
why they were committed, and how far they have palliation, how far
they deserve pardon.

Remember, also, when you judge me, that of all lives mine has
been, almost, the most unhappy. No counsellor, no friend, no country,
have been mine for six and twenty weary years. Every hope has broken
down under my foot as soon as it has touched it. Every spark of
happiness has been quenched as soon as it has been kindled. If I have
sinned much, and sorrowed much, I have also loved much — more, per-
haps, than I have cither sinned or sorrowed. It is the last drop that
overflows the golden bowl, the last tension that breaks the silver
cords. My last hope is gone — my last love and my life go together
and so good night to

Henry Herbert.
May 16, 1853.

At the first announcement of Herbert's death, his
friends naturally viewed his last injunction of "silence"
in a positive and forbidding sense, and the following
hasty, but evidently heartfelt, remarks were immediately
written by the gifted and renowned "Acorn," whose
friendship Herbert had had the honor of enjoying. Surely
any very bad man could not have caused so spontaneous
an expression of refined and honorable feelings from his
literary compeers and associates, especially from one
whose acquaintance had existed for a quarter of a cen-
tury :—

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT.

"The evil that men do lives after them ;
The good is oft interred with their hones."

The friends of H. "W. Herbert, in this city, were appalled at the
announcement of his death, a few days since. The sad intelligence

XXXIV A FEW MEMOIRS OF

fell upon the heart of the writer, who has known him for over a
quarter of a century, like a withering mildew, and, were it not for the
dying injunction of poor Herbert, that his friends should remain si-
lent, my feeble pen, directed by the best energies of my brain, should
reveal the deep sympathies of my heart for one whose life, although
somewhat wayward, was nevertheless marked by many virtues and
bright deeds.

Henry William Herbert, the brilliant genius and rare scholar, is
in his grave !

" After life's fitful fever he sleeps well."

For charity's sake, let not the sanctity of that grave be desecrated by
heartless or unfeeling scribblers, simply to feed or gratify the appetites
or morbid tastes of those whose wicked and malignant slanders were
mainly instrumental in wrecking so bright a mind ! After frenzying
that once noble intellect, and sending its owner unbidden into the
presence of his Maker, may we not hope, for humanity's sake, that
the portals of the grave may be a barrier against the poisonous tongue
of the earth's greatest pestilence — the slanderer !

For the sake of those whose veins bear kindred blood, and whose
hearts and spirits are now bowed down to the dust, forbear. I implore
you, and no longer aim your poisoned and malignant arrows of re-
venge at the dead, through the already lacerated spirits of the living!
But let the faults and the weaknesses of him, whose earthly career
met so melancholy and fearful an end, slumber in silence with his
ashes in the tomb ! For mercy's sake, let his kind acts and charitable
deeds, only, rest in the minds of his fellow-men, for many such acts
and deeds are known to the writer, which will assuredly be placed to
the credit of him who has gone to his account, at the final judgment
day. "Were it not for violating the last request of this extraordinary
man, I would reveal many bright and manly characteristics ; but the
observance of a request, made almost with his expiring breath, for-
bids, and tells me to drop a curtain over his grave, on which to write
in letters of gold — Silence! Peace to the ashes of Henry William
Herbert !

Acorn.

Boston, May 22, 1858.

It is of such a man as Herbert we now proceed to
speak Among the private letters left to Mr. Anthon,

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. XXXV

whom lie appointed as his executor, was the following,
addressed to Mi-. I' Anson, a right trusty and well-beloved
neighbor, in Newark : —

My Dear Mii.es I' Anson: The time has come, and I call upon you
with the last words of a dying countryman to come and perform your
promise. My last friend, do not fail me.

When you receive this I shall be lying dead in the cemetery. I
could not be easy in New York, and I must not be buried in the Pot-
ter's Field or by charity.

Have me dressed in the clothes which I have put in the carpet bag,
with the little packet I have sewn to the shirt upon my heart,
and the pin-cushion with " Herbert " pricked upon it, under my head
— a plain oaken coffin, with this inscription only: "Henry William
Herbert — aged 51."

Let me be buried in your lot ; send the coffin down by the steamer ;
no funeral and no pomp. I send a note to Mr. Shackleford ; he will
perform the service.

I enclose a draft for ten pounds sterling on my sister, which will
pay all expenses ; I have written to her. Come the moment you re-
ceive this, or you will be too late, and they will thrust me into some hole
away from humanity. She has refused all reconciliation absolutely
and forever, but she is not to blame, and it is my last request that no
friend of mine will blame her or defend me, except to say what I solemn-
ly swear with my dying breath, that I did not marry her for money —
that I did not know when I married her, and do not know now,
whether she has any money or how much — that I never had a word
or dispute with her about money, and never said one unkind word
until that Monday, when I threatened my life if she would not tell
me who had accused me to her falsely.

God forgive and God bless her ! I forgive all men who have
wronged me, and ask forgiveness of all whom I have wronged. Every
shilling I owe in America will be paid from the lease of the house,
and the books I leave behind me, ready to be published.

Give my best parting love to all my friends, think of me sometimes
as a most miserable man, yet your true friend,

Henry Wm. Herbert, Stevens House.
May 15, 1858.

VOL. I. 3

XXXVI A. FEW MEMOIRS OF

I wish to have a very small, very plain headstone, of Little Falls,
or Belleville stone, with this inscription :

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT,
of

ENGLAND,

Aged 51 years.
Infelicissimus.

Will you take care of Vixen ? She has been my only comfort.
She has never left me for one moment. I am sure she knows I am
wretched. God bless you and your wife !

Here we may perceive liow bravely the fine spirit of
" Frank Forester " continues to shine out, even from the
shattered mind of H. W. Herbert. He cannot bear the
thought of being buried " away from humanity." ISTo,
indeed. Then, with regard to poor little Vixen, (a black-
and-ian favorite among his dogs,) he is quite sure that
"she knows I am wretched." Another of the private
letters, directed to one of Herbert's most esteemed friends,
reads as follows, and shows the chivalry of a spirit which
could not bear to be suspected : —

" My Dear What is done is done and cannot be undone. I

know you will blame and probably despise me ; but the strength of
one man is the weakness of another, and I could not endure the agony
I have been suffering.

If ever I have vexed, wronged, or offended you, I sincerely and
humbly beg your pardon.

As the last request of a dying man, I entreat you, on account of
this, not to throw up my affairs, but to endeavor to settle them fully.
I am satisfied that with the rent of the Cedars and my own goods,
&c, there will be enough to pay every thing that I owe on earth.

I have the manuscript of three books all ready for the press, which
ought to produce at least $1000, and I think that in view of this act
of mine, good or bad, they would sell even now —

I assure you that I have received a letter from my beloved wife,

HENRY WILLIAM HEEBEET. XXX VH

which exonerates her of all blame, except for ovcr-credulousness,
sensitiveness, and a weak fear of me, who would have died a hundred
times rather than harm her. I entreat you as my last request, not
only not to speak, but not to think unkindly of her.

Never seek to defend my memory at any suit to her discredit —
only you can assert, for I consulted you before we were married, and
you know it, that I never cared, much less knew, or inquired any
thing about, her property or troubled her about it.

Remember, always, that I love her beyond any thing on earth. I
would even ask you, if it ever be in your power, to protect and assist
her as my beloved widow. *****

Fare you well, old friend ; think sometimes of old days, and your
friend,

Heney Wm. Herbert.

The general directions for the funeral (which had an
attendance of the highest respectability) were faithfully
obeyed. The corpse wxas taken to "the Cedars." and here
the picture of desolation, caused by the sudden stoppage
of all " Frank Forester's " little plans of comfort and use-
fulness, seemed sad indeed. Here it was that he had
hoped to entwine the jessamine of amiability and the lin-
den of conjugal affection among the cedars of glory which
tower to the skies. But now, under a clouded aberration
of his usual life-hearty intellect, our own well-beloved
" Frank Forester " had thrown himself into the arms of
Death, as if irresistibly impelled by the chastening rod
of a sorrow which was more than he could endure : —

"Dear, beauteous Dea,th ! thou jewel of the just,
Shining nowhere but in the dark 1
What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust,
Could man out-look the mark ! "

As the deceased gentleman was himself the son of a
minister in the Episcopal communion, and well knew that
the rubrics of the " Book of Common Prayer " forbid any

\XXXV1U A FEW MEMOIRS OF

minister under that discipline to perform funeral services
at the grave of persons who may have committed suicide,
the proceedings on the present occasion were somewhat
novel. Rev. Mr. Shaekleford, the clergyman officiating
at the marriage of Herbert with his last wife, was pres-
ent ; and, after the company had taken a last look at the
corpse, the reverend gentleman alluded to the above cir-
cumstances, and regretted that his obligations of duty
forbade him to appear in any other capacity than as a
friend of the deceased, whose faults (he felt sure) were all
on the surface of his character, out whose virtues were more
numerous than could oe generally known. All true friends
of the dear, departed Herbert, would therefore follow the
remains slowly and silently to the grave, and see them
slowly and silently interred, with only those expressions
which might be suggested or occur from a mute sorrow.
Expressing a hope that the God above, who alone can
judge of sincerity of heart, would have mercy upon the
soul of the deceased, and of all those now present, the
reverend gentleman concluded his remarks, and a silent
sorrow pervaded the entire assemblage.

The procession passed through the gate by which the
grounds of Mount Pleasant Cemetery, adjoining "the Ce-
dars," are entered. It was at this spot where Herbert
and his wife shared that kiss which became a parting kiss,
and where, according to the letter left for Mr. I' Anson,
Herbert expected to die. Some green twigs from the
neighboring trees were sadly but hopefully thrown upon
the coffin, and the assemblage departed.

" Youth flies, life decays, even hope is o'ercast ;
No more with love's former devotion we sue :
He spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast ;
The shroud of affection is love's last adieu ! "

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. XXXIX

Probably no man ever lived who was more likely to
realize the poetical measure of misery indicated by such
a case, as we find it expressed in Anacreontic lyrics, and
familiarized in Byronian lines than Herbert : —

" Oh ! mark you yon pair : in the sunshine of youth

Love twined round their childhood his flowers as they grew ;
They flourish awhile in the season of truth,
Till chill' d by the winter of love's last adieu ! "

" In vain with endearments we soothe the sad heart,
In vain do we vow for an age to he true ;
The chance of an hour may command us to part,
Or death disunite us in love's last adieu ! "

The circumstances attending Herbert's second mar-
riage were much more romantic than those of the first,
but we prefer to leave these matters for the developments
of time and legal investigation. We feel free to say,
however, that Herbert has been " more sinned against
than sinning." As for his striking a woman, or caring
about her money, that might have been possible — when
sky-larks run a quarter-race or eagles play at skittles.

Notwithstanding Herbert's own estimation of the feel-
ings entertained towards him in Newark, and around the
neighborhood of his residence, there need be no doubt
(and it is a matter of pride to observe the fact now) that
he was mistaken on that matter, so far as regards the
respectable portion of the population. It was a part of
the great error which his mind labored under. The news
of his death was received with expressions of general

xl A FEW MEMOIRS OF

regret, as well as causing the grief of those associates
who might well say, in old Roman style, —

" Friends, I owe more tears
To this dead man. than thou shalt see me pay."

Mr. Thos. T. Kinney, the talented editor of the " New-
ark Daily Advertiser," seems to have been a constant and
particular friend of the lamented Herbert. The most
authentic statements of Herbert's last troubles may be
found in the columns of that admirable journal, and Mr.
Kinney now has in his possession the little black-and-tan
terrier, Yixen, poor " Frank Forester's " true friend, who
remained faithful to the last, winning from him the title
of his " only comfort." Many persons connected with the
New York book-trade reside in that part of New Jersey,
and were, more or less, acquainted with Herbert, but we
know of no one who has not acknowledged a pang of
grief on learning the untimely end of " Frank Forester,"
the gay and rollicking preceptor of Young America in
the " gentle science of woodcraft," that science which is
always ancient and ever new to youthful hearts and em-
ulative spirits.

The omission of certain ceremonies at the grave of
poor Herbert may furnish some satisfaction to the vul-
tures of vituperation. Herbert well knew this. His
words to Rev. Mr. Shackleford were, " Do the best you
can for me." But, that Herbert's friends were numerous
and enthusiastic in the place of his residence, may be in-
ferred from the fact that when Rev. Henry B. Sherman,
Rector of Christ Church, Belleville, N. J., offered to
second any judicious compromise which might be sug-
gested to save Herbert's body from being consigned to
the grave, without some token of Christian burial, the
reverend gentleman's kindness met with a prompt response

II EN It Y WILLIAM HERBERT.

Xli

as a kindness (for his action was courteously dispensed
with), by a large number of the most influential citizens
of Newark and vicinity, as soon as they understood the
circumstances of the case. A testimonial to Mr. Sher-
man was subscribed for, and we append the document as
a sufficient refutation of the absurd slander that Herbert
lacked friends in the place where he was best known.
The signers are all fair " reju-esentative men," well quali-
fied to speak for Newark : —

The subscribers, desirous of showing their regard for the Rev.
Henry B. Sherman, of Belleville, and especially their admiration of
his conduct at the funeral of the late Henry W. Herbert, in his wil-
lingness to perform some Christian ceremony over the grave of the
deceased, cheerfully contribute to the amount necessary to procure a
suitable testimonial.

John Morrison,
"Wm. T. Mercer,
F. H. Dawes,
F. E. Berier,

E. A. Carman,
Geo. B. Halsted,

Alex. E\ Dougherty, M. D.,

F. W. Ricord,
Thos. B. Peddie,
Thos. T. Kinney,
A. Bigelow,

J. P. Pennington,
Lewis C. G-rover,
J. D. Orton,
Cornelius W. Tolles,
J. Callaway,

G. Grant, M. D.,
Bethuel L. Dodd, M. D.,
Silas Merchant,

Wm. S. Faitoute,

I. M. Andruss,

Abram Coles, M. D.,

James Ross,

R. B. Hathorn,

Cortlandt Parker*,

O. H. Halsted, Jr.,

H. B. Miller,

A. S chalk,

H. Schalk,

C. T. Zeigler,

A. M. W. Ball,

T. Seaman,

Morris R. Hamilton,

K N". Halsted,

J. A. Pennington,

Richmond Ward,

A. Jackson Drake, TJ. S. T$.,

J. Southard.

A beautifully bound copy of Herbert's " Horse and
Horsemanship of America," his most elaborated and com-

xlii A FEW MEMOIRS OF

plete work, one of the most splendid books produced by
the arts of printing, engraving, and binding, — acknowl-
edged to be the best work of the kind in the world,
and the most successful publication of its class by sub-
scription,^— was presented to Mr. Sherman as the most
appropriate and acceptable gift they could select, and the
presentation was accompanied by a spirited and suitable
letter from Mr. F. W. Kicord, chairman of the committee
having the matter in charge. The Rev. Henry B. Sher-
man's letter of acknowledgment does him great honor;
and the whole proceedings show that both national feel-
ing and Christian sentiment were warmly enlisted on be-
half of the unfortunate deceased, notwithstanding his
many eccentricities. Let it not be said on either side of
the Atlantic, for it is not true, that Americans ever failed
to reward the talents of " Frank Forester."

What was Herbert is now " Frank Forester," for ever,
in American literature. The latter was not exactly " the
Persian rose " but " the flower that grew beside it," and
now we can hardly tell which most attracts the admira-
tion of the world.

There is a grand moral to be drawn from Herbert's
untimely fate. It teaches us that if even he, out among
the fields with his dog and gun, or cantering along the
road with a free-breathing courser, or tickling the trout
out of their native streams, even he — the all-conquering
"Frank Forester" — must succumb to consuming cares
and hopeless passions, how requisite it is for all of us to
be on our guard against falling into a similar abnormal
state, by patronizing a due share of field sports, or at least
some stated relaxations from business by the aid of travel
and agreeable society. To professional and literary men,
especially, Herbert's case is full of warning, and their
matrimonial partners would do well to learn that society
has " rights " as well as individuals. A more conserva*

HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT, xliii

tive tone of action seems needed by all classes, and the
cultivation of suitable out-door sports for the people is a
subject worthy of the wisdom of a second Washington.

Herbert had all the self-sustaining hardihood of a
Dante with the fertile aptitude of a Brougham. But,
look at the dreadful cost of such efforts. See the morbid
irritability of Johnson, Pope, or Byron. See the tumble-
down helplessness of Tom Moore, and even the carefully
conservative Bob Southey, in their old days. Hark to
the plaintive cries from Tasso's cell. Observe the fierce
insanity of Collins or Swift. What should we say of Poe,
or Lippard, or North ? "What should we say of those wrho
are said to " die young " in the vain attempt at literary
glory? Our own Tuckerman has judiciously observed
that " God is not less worshipped by select intelligences,
through fidelity to the natural laws, than by celebrating
his glory in the triumphs of art." The sad case of Hugh
Miller must be fresh in the minds of our readers, as that
of the great devotional geologist who lately shot himself
in Scotland, while in his studio, surrounded by fame, easy
circumstances, and the consolations of religion. And yet,
so dreadful are the life-exhausting effects of severe study,
that only the very thoughtless would dare to sit in judg-
ment on its unfortunate victims.

To the credit of Herbert, " Our Own Frank Forester,"
we may say that his field sports did save him from
dwindling down to a misanthrope. Let us be thankful
that he did not reach that deplorable degree of mental
degradation. A lover of Nature cannot harbor a very
bad heart. Hence we find that Herbert did not leave his
ever-faithful " Yixen " unprovided for ; and, so far from
being any thing like a misanthrope, he begs and prays
that he may not be buried " away from humanity."

That Herbert's intellectual powers had been by no
means impaired, but were on an increase of ability, can

xliv A FEW MEMOIRS OF

be easily seen in his latest writings. Among these we
may mention the beautiful story of " Omemees," which
he commenced in " Porter's Spirit of the Times," when
that admirable sporting paper was started by Messrs.
Porter and Wilkes, in September, 1856. The opening
paragraph of this interesting tale is one of the finest de-
scriptions of the loveliness of a September morning,
among American scenery, that ever was written in prose.
The whole contribution reads as if its author was anxious
to repay the fostering kindness of his old friend of " the
Spirit ;" and W. T. Porter's associate editor, George
Wilkes, very properly called public attention to it, in
their first number, as a "loud, ringing peal from the cla-
rion of Frank Forester." And so it is, now ringing in our
ears more sweetly sonorous than ever, inspiring renewed
reverberations every year among those hearts which can
enjoy the glories of our September landscapes.

Perhaps the day may not be far distant when the im-
portance of " condition " will be familiarly understood to
have quite as much influence upon mankind as upon the
lower animals. If Herbert had had the timely benefit of
good medical advice, or — what is much more rarely found
— the wisdom of docility in obedience to its teachings, he
might, in all probability, so far as human calculation
could tell, have been spared for a longer and more useful
life, cheering us with the continued creations of his
charming pen.

Scarcely any class of men are so apt to " break down "
as public writers. Critical and splenetic by acquired
habits, if not by nature, engaged in a sedentary employ-
ment, and continually forcing the activity of their cere-
bral region, all at once, when, perhaps, their most intimate
friends may not think of the real cause, the balance of
judgment — or, what amounts to the same in practice, " the
blood and judgment are not well commingled " — is thus

HENKT WILLIAM HEBBEET. xlv

set aside. This misfortune may or may not assume a very
decisive or sudden character in outward appearance, any
more than other forms of monomania need necessarily he
violent in their demonstrations. But, it is at work, nev-
ertheless, and interfering with the normal coherence of
ideas, especially if any acrimony of the blood is allowed
to remain long enough for the creation of morbid humors.
In all the arrangements made by Herbert for his suicide,
funeral, etc., the usual vigor of his intellect expresses
itself in the remarkably precise and deliberate directions
he so rapidly gave in writing. He is " all right," except
on the " one idea " — and this wrong idea (without being,
perhaps, perceptible to unpractised observers) was the
result of a morbid condition — gradually superinducing an
abnormal mentality — like the last efforts of an expiring
flame, which finally destroys itself.

There need be no doubt that if Herbert's brain, plexus,
arterial system, etc., had been restored to their usually
harmonized degree of " condition," so noble and gifted a
mind — instead of wrongfully supposing itself to be in the
right — would never have committed the sad error of judg-
ment we now so deeply deplore. The peculiar phase of
phrenitis he labored under appears to have been quite
sufficient for gradually taking away his moral accounta-
bility. The lesson is sometimes taught to the most gifted
minds — before they leave this sublunary sphere — that
Heaven is our only Friend, our only Refuge, our only
Saviour. Let us, therefore, fervently hope that human
charity will leave poor Herbert's final error to the only
Power capable of judging that and all his other failings.

These failings — or whatever they may be termed — are
not mentioned here from any morbid desire to parade
them in connection with so bright an example ; for, be it
remembered that, down to the last of Herbert's instruc-
tive life, the very manner of the unfortunate — most unfor-

Xlvi HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT.

tunate — gentleman's death is one more additional proof
of how much we all need greater regard for out-of-door
sports, conversational hilarity, or heavenly aspirations,
while less attention should be given to corroding cares,
passionate impulses, or rash conclusions. We have merely
endeavored to impartially describe that "Frank Forester1'
whose gentle, but proud spirit, scorned the vulgarity of
carving his name upon the rising tree of American great-
ness in any manner that could possibly injure any other
person, but has derived his principal pleasure while living
— and his most glorious fame after death — from the fact
that as soon as we take up one of his books, that noble
spirit — sweetly responsive to our own — seems to take us
also by the hand, leading us forth into forest wild or
homestead beautiful, where we may willingly acknowl-
edge the magic sway of the original and creative " Frank
Forester " himself, while he guides our field sports, sug-
gests our healthy pastimes, teaches us to tread lightly
among those beautiful flowers which the poets well de-
scribe as " the scriptures of the earth," or imparts an ad-
ditional tone of elegance to those charming family circles
where eyes of light and forms of beauty come forth to
grace the scene.

Much more — very much more — might be written by
pens competent or worthy to discuss the memoirs of
Henry William Herbert. Less we could not have said,
in ordinary justice. After all, while conscious of the
comparative incompleteness of our effort, and we have
said our say, or sung our lay, as best we may,

" The rest — let Sorrow say."

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
w* magazine, " On the Game of North
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 ferce. na-
turcB) 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 Grrouse, Tetrao 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 eves ; 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 OBSERVATIONS. 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 wastes 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 same 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 afford 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
industrv of the white man has spread out over the hunting-

INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 15

grounds of the Indian, that the Pinnated Grouse is to he found
in millions ; 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
numbers 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 flying 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 Virginiana, are ever found in the depths
of the untamed forest, aloof from human habitations ; though
both genera frequent, nay require, woodland, as a 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 necessary T may, however, mention two or threft

VOL. I.

16 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

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 Ecarte 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 becoming
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 OBSERVATIONS. 17

has so long deterred this bird of passage from visiting the east-
ern parts of Maine, is the fact that, in the British Provinces of
New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, much farther to the north-
ward and eastward, and in the old cultivated French country
below and around Quebec, the Woodcock has long been an
object of pursuit by the sportsman, and of attainment by the
gourmet.

It may, therefore, be assumed at once, that the spread of agri-
culture and civilization, in themselves, has no injurious operation,
but rather the reverse, on any kind of winged game ; and that,
in some instances, the progress of one is simultaneous with the
increased 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, if
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 wanton
havoc committed among them by the charcoal-burners, who fre-

1.8 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

quent those wooded districts ; and who, not content with destroy-
ing the parent birds, at all seasons, even while hatching and ho-
vering their broods, shooting the half-fledged cheepers in whole
hatchings at a shot, and trapping them in deep snows — with a
degree of wantonness equally barbarous and unmeaning, steal
or break all the eggs which they can find.

To this add the spring burnings of the forest land, and you have
cause enough to account for the extermination of the Pinnated
Grouse, or Heath-Hen ; who is not now to be shot in such num-
bers as to render it worth the while to hunt for him nearer than
Michigan or Illinois.

I should, perhaps, here state as a farther proof of the correct-
ness of my assertion, that, on the little island of Martha's Vine-
yard, off the coast of Massachusetts, where the Heath-Cock, once
abundant, had nearly become extinct, the species was preserved
from annihilation by the very praiseworthy means, equally de-
termined and energetical, adopted by the citizens in general to
prevent its extermination.

This fine bird is again plentiful in that, its last locality, on the
Atlantic coast ; and it is like to remain so, as the people take an
honorable pride in preserving it, and neither kill it themselves,
nor allow visitors to do so, except in the proper seasons, and
under restrictions as to numbers. For a space, I believe, of five
years the prohibition to kill was absolute ; and the fine so heavy,
and so rigorously enforced — backed as it was by public opinion
— that the desired end was gained.

The period, if I am not mistaken, for which the Grouse bar-
rens were closed has expired, and, under some limitations, of the
the nature of which I am not exactly aware, they may be visited
by sportsmen henceforth.

The destruction of the smaller and more abundant species is to
be attributed to different reasons — but the operation of these is
more rapid and more fatal than those which have led to the ex-
tinction of the races we have mentioned.

The first of these causes is the very singular, if not incompre-
hensible, characteristic of the people of the United States, to dis-

INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 19

regard and violate all laws, even laws of their own making — the
second, the apathy of the rural population with respect to game,
and the error into which they have fallen of regarding all game-
laws as passed to their detriment, and for the pleasure of the dwel-
lers in cities — the third is, the dishonest gluttony of all classes
in the cities, with the exception of a few sportsmen — and the
last, horresco referens, the selfishness and want of union among
themselves of genuine sportsmen.

With regard to the first of the reasons laid down here, it may
be taken as a matter of fact that no man, boy or fool, in the coun-
try, abstains from killing game, in or out of season, for fear of the
law ; and that no farmer or landholder will ever give information
against the violation of this law, though so far is he from being
wow-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 Ave 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 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

try farmers, as a body, have neither the time, the inclination, nor
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 1 mean
who shot for exercise, pleasure, and healthful excitement — and
the poachers who shot for the markets, both coming from the
cities, were the only enemies of the Quail and Woodcock.
They were at that time entirely disregarded by the farmers, who
had not the art to kill them on the wing, who did not care for
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. The father, 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 them earlier
than usual from their hybemacula 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," Iremarked, 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
almost 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 by
my excellent friend, William T. Porter, "known throughout the
length and breadth of the continent as a thorough and accom-
plished sportsman — does not descend to those minute details of
the zoological distinctions, nomenclature, and habits of our vari-
ous species of game, which I propose to give to my readers ; nor
— though abounding with graphic accounts and highly colored
anecdotes relating to every species of shooting or hunting, does
it present any views or suggest any means for the preservation
of game, or for the acquisition of skill in woodcraft and gunnery
in this country — both being very different on this from what
they are on the other side of the Atlantic.

This consideration — connected with another, namely, that for
the last two years hardly a week has passed without my re-
ceiving a letter from some person addicted to field sports, in all,
even the remotest, parts of the country, requesting me to suggest
some plan for the prevention of, what all see to be imminent, the
total annihilation of game within our borders — has led me to
believe that the time has arrived, when a work of this character
is called for by the country in general, and is likely to be as well
received as the deficiencies of its author will permit.

And now, after these brief introductory observations, I shall
state what is my plan for the arrangement of this work, and
thereafter plunge at once in Medias Res.

In the first place, I propose briefly to ascertain what are the
game of the United States and Provinces of America — a point

24 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 with al]
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, how-
ever, no work on field sports can be perfect, or approach to
perfection, unless it include these vital subjects, I shall of course
not pass them over in silence, though I shall dilate only on such
parts of them as appear to be most desirable, either for want of
sufficient present publicity, or from peculiar applicability to the
circumstances of field sports in America.

Hunting, or coursing, proper, 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 the

INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 25

West, which, for the perfection of the first named sport, are the
grounds pur excellence of the whole world — the decline of fal-
conry on the continent of Europe, and in England, being caused
by the multiplicity of enclosures, which renders it impossible
to pursue a chase, blindfold as it were, the eyes being fixed
constantly on the 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.

With regard to these sports, however, I have said my say ;
and only expressing my wonder that they should not be adopted,
and my advice to all genuine Western sportsmen — I do not mean
game-butchers — to adopt them with all due speed — I pass on to
what more claims attention.

Fishing is, perhaps, scarcely a field sport ; it is nevertheless
so decidedly a branch of sportsmanship — of course I mean fly-
fishing, or trolling with the live or dead minnow ; any other
mode I can regard only as I would knocking a hare on the head
in her form, or shooting a bevy of Quail running, or in a huddle
— that I may not leave it unnoticed, lest 1 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 whose opinions are worth
one moment of attention, have long ago decided that they are
the best, the manliest, and the most desirable, in every respect,
of national amusements, tending to prevent the demoralization
of luxury, and over civilization, the growth of 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 cruel, immoral, wicked, and
brutalizing, I have only to make my lowest bow ; and to en-
treat that they will give me and my book, as 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

INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 27

Sana in corpore sano — of keeping up manhood, and of maintain-
ing the physical energies 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 fact, the only nobility in existence, which have been enabled
to resist the deteriorating influences of wealth, luxury, and
breeding-in-and-in, which have corrupted and effeminated the
nobility of all other lands ; they are the only nobility, in exist-
ence, which not only equals, 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 acquiring 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 disante 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

28 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

its institutions must ever be intrusted to the people at large -y
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-
ing the same for a large term of years, as far as regards the use
of the gun, is small indeed and hourly decreasing.

During the war of the Revolution, every countryman was a
rifleman. Burgoyne surrendered as much to the unerring aim
of the undisciplined American militia, as to the skill or courage
of the regulars. Even in the last war, the northern and mid-
land states could produce their hundreds and thousands of rifle
shots ; and on the Canada frontier they did good service.

Along the Atlantic sea-board the rifle is now, already, an
unknown arm ; and I doubt extremely whether, between the
Kennebec, the Delaware, the great lakes, and the ocean, one
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.

INTRODUCTORY 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 beginnings."

3f>

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, ferce, naturd, in
the woods, the wastes, or the wa-
ters.

This, to sportsmen, self-evident
proposition is by no means gen-
erally admitted or applied by the
gunners of the United States, or
the recorders of their feats ; as will
be readily seen by those who peruse the registers of game killed,
in the great hunting parties which are constantly occurring in
the more remote districts of the Eastern and Midland States —
registers in which we shall find Owls, Hawks, Bluejays, Robins,
Pigeons, Squirrels ; nay, even Skunks, Ground-hogs, and Opos-
sums enumerated as game.

Game is an arbitrary term, implying, in its first and most
correct sense those animals, whether of fur or feather, which
are the natural pursuit of certain high breeds of dogs, and
which such dogs, whether they have ever met with the animal
before or notj will instinctively follow and take.

Thereafter, it comes to signify all animals which are so pursued
by dogs for the purpose of sport, not of obtaining food, or of
destroying a noxious animal merely, and to which certain cour-
tesies, if I may so express myself, are shewn, and certain semi-
chivalrous usages extended.

GAME OF AMERICA. 31

At the same time, with but two exceptions that occur to me,
no animal can properly be game which is not fitted for the table,
and the flesh of which is not delicate, and esteemed a rarity.

Again, although 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 Bartram's Plover ; 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,
VOL. i. 5

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, Cervus ; Hare, Lepus ; and the
Bear, Ursus

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 South America.

The Rocky Mountain Goat, Capra Montana.

The Rocky Mountain Sheep, Ovis Montana; and

The American Antelope, or Pronghokn.

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 Virginianus.

Of the Bear also there are two varieties :

The Common Brown Bear, Tlrs'us Americanus ; and
The Grisly Bear, Ursus Horribilis.

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-

(SAME OF AMERICA. 33

sale and butcher-like fashion in which the former are slaughtered,
and the total absence of what I should deem sport in gallopping
alongside of a great unwieldly terrified mountain of flesh, pouring
broadsides into him, until he falls for loss of blood ; and looking
to the ferocious and noxious character of the latter.

Nevertheless, in the West, -Bwjfa/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.

34 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

The Mouse and Cariboo may be hunted with more or less
success in Maine and Canada, as well as in the Eastern provin-
ces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. A few linger yet in
the north-eastern angle of New York, and on the northern
frontiers of Vermont and New Hampshire. There is, however,
little prospect of sport in their pursuit, west of the St. Johns, or
south of the Canada lines. A few Elk are said to exist still in
the western districts of Pennsylvania, and also in Kentucky,
but to find them in herds, and in fact to have a chance of killing
them, the hunter must go westward of the Mississippi.

Even the larger species of hare, which becomes white in win-
ter, is becoming rare in New York south of the region of Lake
Champlain ; and, except among the craggy hills where he
can laugh at pursuit, he will soon cease to exist as an animal of
chase.

So that in fact for the great majority of sportsmen, the number
of varieties of four-footed game is reduced to two species — the
common Deer, and the common Hare — the small grayish brown
fellow, I mean, who is erroneously called Rabbit — for be it ob-
served no Rabbit exists on the continent of North America, and
no Buffalo ; though I suppose to all eternity, men will persist —
even men of education, who ought to know, and do know, better
— in calling them by the names applied to them by the illiterate
and vulgar.

I have no patience with the dependent provincial vulgarism of
calling all birds, beasts, plants and fishes, by the name of Euro-
pean animals or vegetables, to which they bear some fancied
resemblance, when no such things exist on the continent.

There is scarcely a wild bird or a wild plant in this country
that does not go by some ludicrous misnomer. Thus a Thrush is
termed a Robin, a Vulture a Crow, a Grouse a Pheasant or a Par-
tridge, a Quail a Partridge — a Rhododrendon, an Azalia, and a
Calmia — all three as wide apart from each other, and from the
thing they are called, as an ivy bush from an oak tree — laurel;
and so on, of almost everything that runs, flies or grows in the
woods or wilds of the United States.

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 bird^; 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, Pavonidce, and Tetraonidce ; 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 Tetraonidce, 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 of
the same kin. They are these —

* The first family, Columbia" a, of this order, the third of land-birds, are not
game.

36 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

1. The Common American Quail, Ortyx Virginiana ;

2. The Californian Quail, Ortyx Calif ornica;

3. The Plumed Quail, Ortyx Plumif era ;

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 Tetraonidce, 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 1 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 ?

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, Tetrao Cana-
densis ;

4. The Dusky Grouse, Tetrao Obscurus j

GAME OF AMERICA. 37

5. The Cock of the Plains, Tetrao Urophasianus ;

6. The Sharp-tailed Grouse, Tetrao Phasianellas ;

7. The Willow Grouse, Tetrao Saliceti;

8. The American Ptarmigan, Tetrao Mut us ;

9. The Rock Ptarmigan, Tetrao Rupestris ; and

10. The White-tailed Ptarmigan, Tetrao Leucuras.

Of these noble birds, the three species first named are all na-
tives 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
or Spruce Grouse, is a shy, forest-haunting bird, rarely met with,
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. Lawrence, above
Quebec. If it be found in the States, it is so rare as to be un-
worthy of notice, as a species of game.

The fourth, fifth, sixth, and tenth 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 northward 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 the naturalist as water-birds, and which are in
some sort amphibious, fall under the sportsman's head of Upland
shooting. It is on account of this peculiarity, that I propose,
after enumerating and classifying the game of the country in
general, in its proper orders, families, and genera, to distinguish

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 oj
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 Scolopacidce,
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 Anatidce, 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 Rallidce, of the waders, we
have two genera. Fulica, Coot, and Rallus, Rail.

1st. The Common American Coot, Fulica Nigra, 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 Carolinus, 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 Gruidce, 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
Sirepsilas, Turnstone and the Ucematopus, 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, Scolopacidce, 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, a+
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 Macularius ;

4. Solitary Tatler, Tolanus Solitarius ;

5. Yellow Shanks Tatler, Lesser Yellow Leg, Totanus
Flavipes ;

6. Telltale Tatler, Greater Yellow Leg, Totanus Vocife-
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, Li?nosa, 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 JYumenius,
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,
Anatida. The second genus of this family, Anser, Goose, gives
us four species, though two, the third and fourth, are far from
common. The first and third are decidedly the best of our sea
fowl.

1. The Canada Goose— Wild Goose — Anser Canadensis ;

2. The Barnacle Goose,* Anser Leucopsis ;

3. The Brant Goose — Brant — Anser Bernicla ;

4. The White-fronted Goose, Anser Albifrons ; and

5. The Snow Goose, Anser Hyperboreus.

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, Summer Duck, Anas Sponsa ;

8. American Green-winged Teal, Anas Carolinensis.

* I have my doubts whether the Barnacle and Brant are not one and the
same bird, though at different ages, and in different states of plumage.

42 FRANK FORESTER'S rIELD 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 j

5. The Ruddy Duck, Fuligula Rubida ;

6. The Pied Duck, Fuligula Labradora ;

7. The Velvet Duck, Fuligula Fusca ;

8. The Surf Duck, Fuligula Perspiculata ;

9. The American Scoter, Fuligula Americana ;
10.. The Eider Duck, Fuligula Mollissima ;

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 Senator ; and

3. The Hooded Merganser, Mergus Cucullatus.

* I once doubted whether this Duck was not identical with the Garga-
ney of Europe, Anas Querquedula, but am now satisfied that they are
distinct birds.

t This I believe to be the same with the Europenn 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 killing 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 maybe 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 1 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

OF THE

NORTHERN STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES.

PLAND shooting, as it is understood by
American sportsmen, is the distinctive
term, not, as would appear at first sight,
dividing the sport of the hill from that
of the plain country, but that of the in-
land from that of the coast. It in-
cludes, therefore, not only all game of
the order, Rasores, the home of which
is in thickets, mountain-sides, stubbles, or maize-fields, but such
also of the Grallatores, or warders, as dwell either in inland
swampy woods, fresh meadows, or river-side morasses ; and, far-
ther yet, such of the Natatores, swimmers, as are found exclu-
sively or principally on brooks, rivers, above tide water, and
spring marshes.

By upland shooting, in a word, we understand all that is pur-
sued with the aid of pointers, setters, or spaniels, and the ordin-
ary light fowling-piece ; as opposed to that which is followed in
boats with heavy ducking guns, and by the aid of decoys, or, as
they are here termed, stools.

Of all sports of tbis country, therefore, upland shooting is that
which requires in the sportsman the greatest combination of qual-
ities, the greatest skill with the gun, the greatest knowledge of the
habits and haunts of his game, the greatest science in the manage-
ment of his dogs, and the greatest bodily vigor and endurance.

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 flint lock, are such as would make our ancestors, of
a century since, despair amid their admiration — such as consti-
tute the first-rate game shot on the wing, decidedly the greatest
marksman and artist with the gun, be the other what he may.

For, without disparaging the beautiful practice of the rifle or
pistol, it may be affirmed 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 pcedagogi, sed optime col-
lineare 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

VOL. I. q

48 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

killed over dogs — one species ol quail — three varieties of waders ;
several species of duck, and two of hares.

The grouse are, The Pinnated Grouse, Telrao Cupido, com-
monly known as the Prairie-Hen, or Healh-Hen.

The Ruffed Grouse, Tetrao Umbellus, 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 Virginiana,
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, Gallinago Wilsonii, commonly known
as English Snipe.

The Upland Sandpiper, Bartram's Tatler, Tringa Bartra-
mia, sine, Totanus Bartramius, 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-winged Teal, Anas Discors.

The Wood Duck, or Summer Duck, Anas Sponsa.

The Pintail Duck, Anas Acuta, vulg. Sprig Tail, Pigeon Tail.

One or two other varieties of this family are common either
to hoth salt and fresh waters, or of so rare occurrence as to re-
quire no notice ; of the former I will merely name The Shovel-
ler, Anas Clypeala, 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, Rabhit.

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 the 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 Hupped
d'Amerique — Brissot. The Prairie-Hen, Grouse, or Heath-
Hen.

" Male, 18.27S.

" Abundant from Texas, throughout all the Western 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,"f marginate,J and pectinate, § hind toe extremely short,
two lateral equal, middle toe much longer ; claws of ordinary
length, strong, arched, rather obtuse, concave beneath.

" Plumage compact, the feathers generally broad and rounded,
those of the head and neck narrow, and proportionally shorter,
excepting of the crown, which are elongated. Two tufts of
lanceolate elongated feathers on the side of the neck, under
which is an oblong bare space on either side capable of being in-
flated. Lower tibial|| and tarsaHT 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 od

* Declinate — Bent downward.

t Scutella — Scales overlapping, like tiles or shingles.

t Marginate — Having margins or borders.

j| Pectinate — Toothed, like a comb.

§ Tibial — Belonging to the tibia, or thigh.

V Tarsal — Belonging to the tarsus, or shank.

uAand 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 18 inches ; extent of wings, 27jj ; bill along the
back, /a ; along the edge, H ; tarsus, V2 ; 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 the 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 learned Professor :

52 frank forester's fiem) sports.

" ' New York, Sept. 19, 1810.

" ' Dear Sir, — It gives me much pleasure to reply to your
letter of the 12th inst., asking of me information concerning the
Grouse of Long Island.

" ' The birds, which are known there emphatically by the name
of Grouse, inhabit chiefly the forest range. This 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 three months after the
violation of the law."

" ' The country selected by these exquisite birds requires a more
particular description. You already understand it to be the
midland and interior district of the island. The soil of this
island is, generally speaking, a sandy or gravelly loam. In the
parts less adapted to tillage, it is more of an unmixed sand.
This is so much the case, 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,
by no means naked deserts ; they are, on the contrary, covered
with trees, shrubs and smaller plants. The trees are mostly
pitch-pine, of inferior size, and white-oaks of a small growth.
They are of a quality very fit for burning. Thousands of cords
of both sorts of fire-wood are annually exported from these
barrens. Vast quantities are occasionally destroyed by the fires
which, through carelessness or accident, spread far and wide
through the woods. The city of New York will probably for
ages derive fuel from these grounds. The land, after being well
cleared, yields to the cultivator poor crops. Unless, therefore,
he can help it by manure, the best disposition is to let it grow
up to forest again.

" ' Experience has proved that in a term of forty or fifty 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 time, provided the
persecutors of the latter would be quiet. Beneath these trees
grow more dwarfish oaks, overspreading the surface, sometimes
with here and there a shrub, and sometimes a thicket. These
latter are from about two to ten feet in height. When they are
the principal product, they are called, in common conversation,
brush, as the flats on which they grow are termed brushy plains.
Among this hardy shrubbery may frequently be seen the creep-
ing vegetable, named partridge-berry, covering the sand with its
lasting verdure.

" ' In many spots the plant which produces hurtleberries sprouts
up among the other natives of the soil. These are the more
important ; though I ought to inform you, that the hills reach-
ing from east to west and forming the spine of the island, sup-
port kalmias, hickories, and many other species ; that I have
seen azalias and andromedas, as I passed through the wilder-
ness, and that 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 for gentlemen who go thee for sport.

" ' Bulk. — An adult Grouse, when fat, weighs as much as a
barn-door fowl of moderate size, or about three pounds avoirdu-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 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-Hen 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 pinched, 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.

" ' JSTigration. — 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 fly for refuge, when closely
pressed by the hunters ; and here, under a stiff and impenetrable
cover, they escape the pursuit of dogs and men. Water is so
seldom met with on the true GRousE-ground, that it is necessary
to carry it along for the pointers to drink. The flights of Grouse
are short, but sudden, rapid and whirring. I have not heard of
any success in taming them. They seem to resist all attempts at
domestication In this, as well as in many other respects, they
resemble the Quail of New York, or the Partridge of Penn-
sylvania

" ' Manners. — During the period of mating, and while the fe-
males are occupied in incubation, the males have a practice of
assembling principally by themselves. To some select and cen-
tral spot, where there is very little underwood, they repair from
the adjoining district. From the exercises performed there,
this is called a scratching-place. The time of meeting is the
break of day. As soon as the light appears, the company as-
sembles from every side, sometimes to the number of forty or
fifty. When the dawn is passed, the ceremony begins by a low
tooting from one of the cocks. This is answered by another.
They then come forth, one by one, from the bushes, and strut
about with all the pride and ostentation they can display. Their
necks are incurvated, the feathers on them are erected into a sort
of ruff; the plumes of the tails are expanded like fans ; they
strut about in a style resembling, as nearly as small may be il-
lustrated by great, the pomp of the Turkey-Cock. They seem
to vie with each other in stateliness, and, as they pass each other,
frequently cast looks of insult and utter notes of defiance. These
are the signals for battles. They engage with wonderful spirit
and fierceness. During these contests, they leap a foot or two
from the ground, and utter a cackling, screaming and discordant
cry. They have been found in these places of resort even earlier
than the appearance of light in the east. This fact leads to the
belief, that a part of them assemble over night. The rest join them

58 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

in the 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, in
coveys or packs, as the phrase is, until the pairing season. A
full pack consists, of course, of ten or a dozen. Two packs
have been known to associate. I lately heard of one whose
number amounted to twenty-two. They are so unapt to be
startled, that a hunter, assisted by a dog, has been able to shoot
almost a whole pack, without making any of them take wing.
In like manner, the men lying in concealment near the scratch-
ing-places, have been known to discharge several guns before
either the report of the explosion or the sight of their wounded
or dead fellows would rouse them to flight. It has been farther
remarked that when a company of sportsmen have surrounded a
pack of Grouse, the birds seldom or never rise upon their pin-
ions while they are encircled ; but each runs along until it
passes the person that is nearest, and then flutters off with the

UPLAND SHOOTING. 59

utmost expedition. As you have made no enquiry of me con-
cerning the ornithological character of these birds, I have not
mentioned it, premising that you are already perfectly acquaint-
ed with their classification and description. In a short memoir,
written in 1803, and printed in the eighth volume of the Medica
Repository, I ventured an opinion as to the genus and species.
Whether I was correct is a technical matter, which I leave you
to adjust. I am well aware that European accounts of our pro-
ductions are often erroneous, and require revision and amend-
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 Common Partridge of New
England, or Pheasant of Pennsylvania, ( Tetrao TJmbellus.)
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., that one forenoon a Cock-GROUSE struck the stone chimney
of his house with such force, as instantly to fall dead to the
ground. Secondly, their known dislike of ponds, marshes, or
watery places, which they avoid, drinking but seldom, and it is
believed never from such places. Even in confinement this
peculiarity has been taken notice of. While I was in the State
of Tennessee, a person, living within a few miles of Nashville,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 61

had caught an old 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, which 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 still 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 sprinkle water on
the bars of the cage, than she eagerly and rapidly picked them
off, as before. The last and probably the strongest inducement
to their preferring these places, is the small acorn of the shrub-
oak, the strawberries, huckleberries and partridge-berries, with
which they abound, and which constitute the principal part of
the food of these birds. These brushy thickets also afford them
excellent shelter, being almost impenetrable to dogs or birds of
prey. In all those places where they inhabit, they are, in the
strictest sense of the word, resident ; having their particular haunts
and places of rendezvous — as described in the preceding ac-
count— to which they are strongly attached. Yet they have
been known to abandon an entire tract of such country, when,
from whatever cause it might proceed, it became again covered
with forest. A few miles south of the town of York, in Penn-
sylvania, commences an extent of country fairly of the charac-
ter described, now chiefly covered with wood, but still retaining
the name of Barrens. In the recollection of an old man, born
in that part of the country, this tract abounded with Grouse.
The timber growing up, in progress of years, these birds totally
disappeared, and for a long period of time he had seen none of
them, until, migrating with his family to Kentucky, on entering

2 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

the Barrens, he one morning recognized the well-known music
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
its 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-
ingly with more malice than, effect. This humming continues

UPLAND SHOOTING. 63

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 fields 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-
Knobs and Bairdstown, told me that, a few years ago, one of his
sons found a Grouse's nest, with fifteen eggs, which he brought
home and immediately placed beneath a hen then sitting, tak-
ing away her own. The nest of the Grouse was on the
ground, under a tussock of long grass, formed with very little
art and few materials. The eggs were brownish white, and
about the size of a pullet's. In three or four days, the whole
were hatched. Instead of following the 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
seemed to understand her language, or consent to be guided by
her. They were let out to the fields, where they paid little
regard to their nurse, and, in a few days, only three of them re-
mained. These became exceedingly tame and familiar, were
most expert fly-catchers, but soon after they also disappeared.

" On dissecting these birds, the gizzard was found extremely
muscular, having almost the hardness of a stone ; the heart
remarkably large ; the crop was filled with briar-knots, con-
taining the larvte of some insect, quantities of a species of
green lichen, small, hard seeds, and some grains of Indian Corn."
— Wilson's Am. Ornith.

vol. i. 7

64 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

Next to chis fine bird, both in his game qualities and the
excellence of his flesh, I note, unhesitatingly,

THE RUFFED GROUSE.

Tetrao Umbellus. Linn : Wilson : Audubon. La Gelinotte Hup-
pee de Pennsylvania 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 edges
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, broAvnish-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, between two
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, 4 ; along the gap, 1-^ ; shank, \~ ; middle toe, If.

" 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." — Audubon'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.

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, an 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 of the common
Hen. On being surprised, she exhibits all the distress and affec-
tionate manoeuvres of the Quail, and most other birds, to lead you

* Ail error ! ' The 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 off along the sur-
face through the woods with great steadiness and rapidity, till
she was beyond my sight, leaving me in great surprise at the
incident. I made a very close and active search around the spot
for the rest, but without success. Here was a striking instance
of something more than what is termed blind instinct, in this
remarkable deviation from her usual manoeuvres when she has
a numerous brood. It would have been impossible for me to
have injured the 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, would have
been impossible, and to attempt to save one at the expense of the
the rest, would be unnatural. She, therefore, usually takes the
only possible mode of saving them in that case, by decoying the
person in pursuit of herself, by such a natural imitation of lameness
as to impose on most people. But here, in the case of a single,
solitary young one, she instantly altered her plan, and adopted
the most simple and effectual means for its preservation. The
Pheasant usually springs within a few yards, with a loud whir-
ring noise, and flies 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,
supported by a figure 4 trigger. At this season, when suddenly

UPLAND SHOOTING. 6P

alarmed, they frequently dive into the snow, particularly when
it has newly fallen, and coming out at a considerable distance,
again take wing. They are pretty hard to kill, and will often
carry 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, wnere this

70 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

kind of food has been long continued, and the birds allowed to
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
dangerous. Great numbers of these birds are brought to our
markets at all times during fall and winter, some of which are
brought from a distance of more than a hundred miles, and have
been probably dead a week or two, unpicked and undrawn,
before tbey are purchased for the table.

"Regulations prohibiting them from being brought to market,
unless picked and drawn, would very probably be a sufficient
security against all danger. At these inclement seasons, how-
ever, they are lean and dry, and, indeed, at all times, their flesh
is far inferior to that of the Pinnated Grouse. They are usually
sold in Philadelphia market at from three-quarters of a dollar
to a dollar and a quarter a pair, — sometimes higher." — Wilson's
Am. Ornith.

The last of this species which it is worth our while to notice
as a sporting bird, is the Canada Grouse, and even it, although
Mr. Audubon speaks of it as abundant in parts of Maine, and
although it unquestionably exists in the north-eastern angle of
New York, is so rarely met, and so shy, as to be known to very
few of our sportsmen.

The Willow 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.

i1 '. '= -j-BJ II" , ■■■! I ttj-jr-~cp ,.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 71

THE CANADA GROUSE.

Tetrao Canadensis. Linn : Bonaparte : Audubon. Spotted
Grouse ; Franklin's Grouse ; Spruce Partridge.

" Male, 15?.21?. Female, 15J.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. ^ Irisj" 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 giay,
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, 15| inches; extent of wings, 21f ; bill, along the
back51^; along the edge, If? ; tarsus, lj ; weight, 17oz.

" Adult female.

" The female is not much smaller. The superciliary mem-
brane is much less, but of the same color. The upper parts are
nearly of the same tints, but more broadly barred ; the head,
sides of the neck, fore neck, and anterior parts of the breast,
yellowish gray, barred with brownish black ; the lower parts,
grayish black, barred with reddish white. The tail is minutely
tipped and mottled with brownish red. The younger females
have more of the yellowish red tints than the old ones. In other
respects, the coloring is nearly similar.

" Length, 15^ inches ; extent of wings, 21 ; weight, 15oz."—
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 setter or

UPLAND SHOOTING. 73

pointers, or being met with in sufficient numbers to render the
pursuit of it pleasurable or exciting.

The single specimen which I killed, rose suddenly from the
ground, which was covered with 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 I 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 greatest living naturalist.

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 American 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, offering 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 tbe 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 FRANK 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 clucks, 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 generally rained in the course of that afternoon. When,
on the contrary, the same flock would remain busily engaged in
search of food, until sunset, I found the following morning fresh
and clear. Indeed, I believe that this kind of foresight exists in
the whole tribe of gallinaceous birds.

" One day, while on the coast of Labrador, I accidentally al-
most walked upon a female Canada Grouse, surrounded by her
young brood. It was on the 18th of July. The affrighted mo-
ther, on seeing us, ruffled 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 we 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 week 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 with a pair of these Grouse in moult.
This species undergoes that severe trial at a much earlier season
than the Willow Ptarmigan. My son reported that some young
ones which he saw with their mother, were able to 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 State 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 Missouri. It is abun-
dant in the British Provinces of New Brunswick, Nova Scotia,
Newfoundland and Labrador.

" Among the great number, procured at all seasons of the
year, which I have examined, I never found one without the
rufous band at the extremity of the tail ; nor did I see any hav-
ing the terminal white spot on the 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 with berries of the
plant which is commonly called ' Solomon's seal.' In the
winter I have seen the crop filled with the short leaves of the
larch or hackmetack.

" I have frequently" heard it said that these birds could be
knocked down with sticks, or that a whole covey could be shot,
while perched on trees, by beginning at the lowest one ; but I
never witnessed anything of the kind, and cannot therefore
vouch for the truth of the assertion. During the autumn of
1833, these birds were uncommonly plentiful in the State of
Maine. My friend Edward Harris, of New York, Thomas
Lincoln, and others, killed a great number ; and the latter gen-
tleman procured a pair alive, which were fed on oats and did
well.

" The flesh of this Grouse is dark, and fit for being eaten
only when it has fed on berries. In winter, when it feeds on
the leaves of trees and other plants, the flesh is quite bitter and
disagreeable.

"According to Dr. Richardson, all the thick and swampy
black spruce forests between Canada and the Arctic ocean
abound with this bird, and considerable numbers exist, in the
severest seasons, as high as the 67th parallel. I am informed
by Mr. Townsend that it is also plentiful on the Rocky Moun-
tains and the plains of the Columbia, from which parts I have
obtained specimens differing in nothing from others procured in
Maine and Labrador. I have also compared those in the Edin-
burgh Museum, which Mr. Douglass 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. 70

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 opinions of the wisest ; since it is admitted
everywhere that de gustibus non est disputandum. Mr. Audubon
says that in winter the flesh is bitter and disagreeable. I have
eaten it in winter, and then only, and while I must admit the
almost resinous aromatic bitterness, I venture to pronounce it
delicious in the extreme ; and I believe that all epicures in game
will agree with me — all those, I mean, who prefer the back
bone and thighs of the Ruffed Grouse of America, or the Moor-
fowl of the British Isles, to the tamer white meat of the breast.
European readers will understand the flavor I allude to, when 1
state that it closely resembles that of the Capercaillie, as import-
ed from Norway in the winter season.

With this species I shall conclude my notice of the Grouse
Tetraonida of America, since the Willow Ptarmigan, Tetrao
Saliceti, " Red-necked Partridge,'''' is so very rare that it really
cannot be included under the head of Game, even that indefati-
gable explorer, Mr. Audubon, having failed to discover it
within the limits of the States, although he expresses his con-
viction that " it exists in the State of Maine, as well as in the
Northern Districts bordering; on the great lakes."

For the benefit of those who desire to be informed, and to
learn the distinctions between Grouse, Pheasant, and Partridge,
neither of the latter species existing in America, I will state sim-
ply and briefly that all Grouse are feathered on the legs, below
the termination of the thigh, some quite to the toe nails. The
Ruffed Grouse is feathered below the knee — the Pinnated and
Canada Grouse to the ancles — the Willow Grouse to the claws.
Of many generic marks this is the most decided. No game-
bird but the Grouse is feathered below the knee, and- he always
carries this distinctive sign after the spring migration.

VOL. I. g

30 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

AMERICAN QUAIL.

Ortyx Virginiana — Stephens. La Perdrix (PAmerique — Brissot.
The Quail, — " The Partridge" in Pennsylvania and South-
ward, improperly.

" Male 10.15. Female 9|.14.

" Breeds abundantly from Texas to Massachusetts ; in the
interior, high on the Missouri, and in all intermediate districts.

" Adult male.

" Bill short, robust, rather obtuse, the base covered with
feathers ; upper mandible* with the dorsal outline curved, the
sides convex, the edges overlapping, the tip decimate ; under
mandible nearly straight in its dorsal outline, arched on the
edges, the sides convex, nostrils concealed among the feathers.
Head and neck of ordinary size ; body short and bulky. Feet
of ordinary length ; tarsus anteriorly scutellate,f a little com-
pressed, spurless. Toes scutellate above, pectinatej on the
sides ; claws arched, obtuse.

" Plumage compact, glossy. Feathers of the upper part of
the head erectile into a tuft. Wings short, broad, much
curved, and rounded ; the fourth quill the longest. Tail short,
rounded, of twelve rounded feathers.

" Bill dark brown. Iris hazel. Feet grayish blue. The
forehead, a broad line over each eye, and the throat and fore-
neck white. Lore, auricular§ coverts, and a broad semilunar
band on the foreneck, more or less black. Upper part of the
head, hind and lower part of the neck, all round, reddish brown.
Upper back and wing coverts, bright brownish red ; the lower
part of the back, light red, tinged with yellow. Primaries
dusky, externally margined with blue ; secondaries irregularly
barred with light red. Tail grayish blue, excepting the middle

* Mandible. — division of bill corresponding to the jaws.

t Scutellate — covered with scales overlapping each other like tiles.

X Pectinate — toothed like a comb.

§ Auricular — belonging to the ear.

UPLAND SHOOTING. SI

feathers, which are dull grayish yellow, sprinkled with hlack.
Sides of the neck spotted with white. Under parts white,
streaked with brownish-red, transversely and undulatingly barred
with black. Sides and under tail coverts, reddish.

" Length, 10 inches ; extent of wings, 15 ; bill along the
back, A, along the gap, ^ ; tarsus | ; middle toe nearly the
same.

" Young Male.

" Similar to the adult male in the general distribution of the
colors, but the white of the head and throat bright reddish-
yellow ; the back of the fore-neck and sides of the head, deep
brown ; the under parts less pure and more dusky ; and the tail
of a duller gray.

" Adult Female.

" The female resembles the young male, but is more deci-
dedly colored ; the bill darker, the head of a more uniform and
richer reddish-yellow ; the sides of the neck spotted with yel-
low and black.

" Young Female.

" The young females are somewhat smaller and lighter in
their tints than the young males.

" Very young Birds.

" Bill brownish-yellow. Iris light hazel. The general color
of the upper parts, light yellowish -brown, patched with gray j
sides of the head dusky." — Audubon 's Birds of America.

" This well known bird is a general inhabitant of North
America, from the northern parts of Canada and Nova Scotia,
in which latter place it is said to be migratory to the extremity
of the peninsula of Florida, and was seen in the neighborhood
of the Great Osage Village in the interior of Louisiana. They
are numerous in Kentucky and Ohio. Mr. Pennant remarks
that they have been lately introduced into the Island of Jamaica,
where they appear to thrive greatly, breeding in that warm
climate twice in the year. Capt. Henderson mentions them as
being plenty near the Belize, at the Bay of Honduras. They

82 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

rarely frequent the forest, and are most numerous in the vicinity
of well cultivated plantations, where grain is plenty. They,
however, occasionally seek shelter in the woods, perching on
the branches, or secreting themselves among the brushwood,
but are found most usually in open fields, or along fences shel-
tered by thickets of briars ; when they are not too much perse-
cuted by the sportsman they become almost half domesticated,
approach the barn, particularly in winter, and sometimes in that
severe season mix with the poultry to glean up a subsistence.
They remain with us a whole year, and often suffer extremely
by long, hard winters, and deep snows. At such times the arts
of man combine with the inclemency of the season for their
destruction. To the ravages of the gun are added others of a
more insidious kind. Traps are placed on almost every planta-
tion in such places as they are known to frequent. They are
formed of lath or thinly split sticks, somewhat in the shape of
an obtuse cone, laced together with cord, having a small hole
at the top with a sliding lid to take out the game by. This is
supported by the common figure 4 trigger, and grain is scattered
below and leading to the place. By this contrivance ten or
fifteen have sometimes been taken at a time. These are some-
times brought alive to market, and occasionally bought up by
sportsmen, who, if the season be very severe, sometimes pre-
serve and feed them till Spring, when they are humanely turned
out to their native fields again, to be put to death some future
time secundum artem. Between the months of August and
March great numbers of these birds are brought to the market
of Philadelphia, where they are sold at from twelve to eighteen
cents a piece;

" The Quail begins to build early in May. The nest is made
on the ground, usually at the bottom of a thick tuft of grass that
shelters and conceals it. The materials are leaves and fine dry
grass, in considerable quantity. It is well covered above, and
an opening left on one side for entrance. The female lays from
fifteen to twenty-four eggs, of a pure white, without any spots.
The time of incubation has been stated to me by various per-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 83

sons at four weeks, when the eggs were placed under the
domestic Hen. The young leave the nest as soon as they are
freed from the shell, and are conducted about in search of food
by the female ; are guided by her voice, which, at that time,
resembles the twittering of young chickens, and sheltered by
her wings in the same manner as the domestic fowl, but with
all that secrecy and precaution for their safety which their
helplessness and greater danger require. In this situation,
should the little timid family be unexpectedly surprised, the
utmost alarm and consternation prevails. The mother throws
herself in the path, fluttering along and beating the ground with
her wings, as if sorely wounded, using every artifice she is master
of to entice the passenger in pursuit of herself, uttering at the
same time certain peculiar notes of alarm, well understood by
the young, who dive separately amongst the grass, and secrete
themselves until the danger is over, and the parent, having
decoyed the pursuer to a safe distance, returns by a circuitous
route to collect and lead them off. This well known manoeuvre,
which nine times in ten is successful, is honorable to the feel-
ings and judgment of the bird, but a severe satire on man.
The affectionate mother, as if sensible of the avaricious
cruelty of his nature, tempts him with a larger prize to save
her more helpless offspring, and pays him as avarice and cruelty
ought always to be paid, with mortification and disappointment.
" The eggs of the Quail have been frequently placed under
the domestic Hen, and hatched and reared with equal success
as her own, though generally speaking, the young Partridges,
being more restless and vagrant, often lose themselves and
disappear. The Hen ought to be a particular good nurse, not
at all disposed to ramble, in which case they are very easily
raised. Those that survive acquire all the familiarity of com-
mon Chickens, and there is little doubt that if proper measures
were taken and persevered in for a few years, they might be
completely domesticated. They have been often kept during
the first season and through the whole of that winter, but have
uniformly deserted ifo the spring. Two young Partridges that

84 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

were brought up by a Hen, when abandoned by her, associated
with the cows, which they regularly followed to the fields,
returned with them when they came home in the evening,
stood by them while they were milked, and again accompanied
them to the pasture. These remained during the winter, lodg-
ing in the stable, but as soon as spring came they disappeared.
Of this fact I was informed by a very respectable lady, by
whom they were particularly observed. It has been frequently
asserted to me that the Quails lay in each others nests.
Though I have never myself seen a case of this kind, I do not
think it altogether improbable, from the fact that they have
often been known to drop their eggs in the nest of the common
Hen, when that happened to be in the fields or at a small dis-
tance from the house. The two Partridges above mentioned
were raised in this manner, and it was particularly remarked by
the lady who gave me the information, that the Hen sat for
several days after her own eggs were hatched, until the young
Quails made their appearance. The Partridge, on her part,
has sometimes been employed to hatch the eggs of the common
domestic Hen. A friend of mine, who himself made the experi-
ment, informs me that of several Hen's eggs which he substi-
tuted in place of those of the Partridge, ,she brought out the
whole, and that for several weeks he occasionally surprised her
in various parts of the plantation, with her brood of Chickens,
on which occasions she exhibited all that distressful alarm, and
practised her usual manoeuvres for their preservation. Even
after they were considerably grown, and larger than the Part-
ridge herself, she continued to lead them about ; but though the
notes or call were those of common Chickens, their manners
had all the shyness, timidity, and alarm of young Partridges,
running with great rapidity, and squatting in the grass exactly
in the manner of the Partridge. Soon after this they disap-
peared, having probably been destroyed by dogs, by the gun,
or by birds of prey. Whether the domestic fowl might not by
this method be very soon brought back to its original savage state,
and thereby supply another additional subject for the amusement

UPLAND SHOOTING. 85

of the sportsman, will scarcely admit of doubt ; but the experi-
ment, in order to secure its success, would require to be made in
a quarter of the country less exposed than ours to the ravages
of guns, dogs, traps, and the deep snows of winter, that
the new tribe might have full time to become completely natu-
ralized and well fixed in all their native habits. About the
beginning of September, the Quail being now nearly full grown
and associated in flocks or coveys of from four or five to thirty,
afford considerable sport to the gunner. At this time the notes
of the male are most frequent, clear, and loud. His common
call consists of two notes, with sometimes an introductory one,
and is similar to the sound produced by pronouncing the words
Bob White. This call may be easily mistaken by whistling, so
as to deceive the bird itself, and bring it near. While uttering
this he is usually perched on a rail of the fence, or a low limb
of an apple tree, where he will sometimes sit repeating, at
short intervals, Bob White, for half an hour at a time. When
a covey are assembled in a thicket, or corner of a field, and
about to take wing, they make a low, twittering sound, not
unlike that of young Chickens ; and when the covey is dis-
persed they are called together by a loud and frequently
repeated note, peculiarly expressive of tenderness and anxiety.
The food of the Partridge consists of grain, seeds, insects, and
berries of various kinds. Buckwheat and Indian Corn are
particular favorites. In September and October the Buckwheat
fields afford them an abundant supply as well as a secure
shelter. They usually roost at night in the middle of a field,
on high ground, and from the circumstance of the dung being
found in such places in one round heap, it is generally con-
jectured that they roost in a circle with their heads outward ;
each individual in this position forming a kind of guard to pre-
vent surprise. They also continue to lodge for several nights
in the same spot. The Partridge, like all the rest of the galli-
naceous order, flies with a loud, whirring sound, occasioned
by the shortness, concavity, and rapid motion of its wings, and
the comparative weight of its body. The steadiness of its

86 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 d?Amerique — Brissot. The Mud-
Snipe, Blind Snipe, Big-headed Snipe, Bog- Sucker.

"Male, 11.16. Female, 11^. 17|.

" 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 the
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, 5j ; tail, 2T42 ; bill along the ridge, 2T32 ; along

OO FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

the edge of the lower mandible, 2\\ ; tarsus, 1-}% ; middle toe,
lf52, its claw, I ; weight, 6?oz.

" Adult Female.

" The female, which is considerably larger, has the same co-
lors as the male.

" Length to end of tail, 11T72 ; to end of wings, 10tS2 ; to end
of claws, 13/2 ; wing, from flexure, 5i% ; tail, 2T42 ; bill along
the ridge, 2ft ; along the edge of lower mandible, 2o-f ; tarsus,
Iti ; middle, toe, l^; its claw, \ ; 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, sometimes five eggs, about an inch and a half long,
and an inch, or rather more, in diameter, tapering suddenly to
the small end. These are of a dull clay color, marked with
spots of brown, particularly at the great end, and interspersed
with others of a very pale purple. The nest of the Woodcock
has, in several instances that have come to my knowledge, been
found with eggs in 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
difficulty, 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 larva? and other aquatic worms, for
which, during the evening, they are almost continually turning
over the leaves with their bills, or searching in the bogs. Their
flesh is reckoned delicious, and prized highly. They remain
with us till late in the autumn, and, on the falling of the first
snows, descend from the ranges of the Alleghany to the lower
parts of the country, in great numbers — soon after which, viz.,
in November, they move off to the South. This bird, in its gene-
ral figure and manners, very greatly resemble the Woodcock of
Europe ; but is considerably less, and differently marked below,
being an entirely distinct species. A few traits will clearly point
out these differences. The lower parts of the European Wood-
cock are thickly barred with dusky-waved lines on a yellowish-
white ground. The present species has those parts of a bright
ferruginous. The male, of the American species, weighs from

90 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

five to six ounces, the female eight ; the European twelve. The
European Woodcock makes his first appearance in Britain in
October and November, that country being, in fact, only its
winter quarters ; for, early in March, they move off to the
northern parts of the continent to breed. The American spe-
cies, on the contrary, winters in countries south of the United
States, arrives here early in March, extends its migration as far
at least as the river St. Lawrence — breeds in all the intermediate
places, and retires again to the South on the approach of winter.
The one migrates from the torrid to the temperate regions — the
other from the temperate to the Arctic. The two birds, there-
fore, notwithstanding their names are the same, differ not only
in size and markings, but also in native climate. Hence the ab-
surdity of those who would persuade us that the Woodcock of
America crosses the Atlantic to Europe, and vice versa. These
observations have been thought necessary, from the respectability
of some of our own writers, who seem to have adopted this opi-
nion. How far to the North our Woodcock is found, I am un-
able to say. It is not mentioned as a bird of Hudson's Bay, and
being altogether unknown in the Northern parts of Europe, it is
very probable that its migrations do not extend to a very high
latitude ; for it may be laid down as a general rule, that those
birds which migrate to the Arctic regions, in either continent,
are very often common to both. The head of the Woodcock is
of singular conformation — large, somewhat triangular, and the
eye fixed at a remarkable distance from the bill, and high in the
head. This construction was necessary to give a greater range
of vision, and to secure the eye from injury while the owner is
searching in the mire. The flight of the Woodcock is slow.
When flushed at any 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 —
die latter being considerably the larger. When taken, they ut-

fcfcfc , \

UPLAND SHOOTING. 91

ter a long, clear, but feeble peep, not louder than that of a
mouse. They are far inferior to young partridges, in running
and skulking, and, should the female be unfortunately killed,
may be easily taken on the spot." — Wilson' 's Am. Ornithology.

COMMON SNIPE.
Scolopax Wilsonii. — The English Snipe.

"Male 101.17.

" 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, flattish, 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 tbe eye. Then
a loral band of dark brown ; chin whitish ; neck pale reddish-
brown, spotted with brownish-black. The general color of
upper parts is brownish-black, variegated with pale reddish-
brown, of which latter color are the outer edges of the scapu-
lars and of the lateral feathers on the anterior part of the back.
Wing-coverts, and inner secondaries, similarly mottled ; the
small anterior coverts, the primary coverts, primary quills, and
outer secondaries, deep brown more or less tipped with white ;
rump barred with yellowish-gray and dusky ; upper tail coverts
similar, but the larger barred with brownish-red and black.
Tail feathers brownish-black at the base, with a broad sub-
terminal band of brownish-red on the outer web of the two
middle, and on both webs of the rest, excepting the outer on
each side, which is barred with brownish-black and white, the
black bars five ; the tips of all white. Anterior part of breast
like the neck, the rest white ; abdomen and lower tail coverts
grayish-yellow, barred with brownish-black ; lower win°- co-
verts similarly mottled.

" Length to end of tail, 10^ inches ; to end of claws ll1 •
extent of wings, 17 ; wing, from flexure, 5 ; tail, 2\ ; bill along
the back, 2~^ '-, along the edge of the lower mandible, 2^\ ; tar-
sus, Its ; middle toe, 1| ; its claw, & ; weight 3oz.

" Adult female.

"The female resembles the male, but , is rather larger."

Audubon's Birds of America.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 93

" This bird is well known to our sportsmen, and if not the
same, has a very near resemblance to the common Snipe of
Europe. It is usually known by the name of the English
Snipe, to distinguish it from the Woodcock, and from several
others of the same genus.

" It arrives in Pennsylvania about the 10th of March, and
remains in the low grounds for several weeks, the greater part
then move off to the north and to the higher inland districts, to
breed. A few are occasionally found and consequently breed
in our low marshes during the summer. When they first
arrive they are usually lean, but when in good order are
accounted excellent eating. They are perhaps the most diffi-
cult to shoot of all our birds, as they 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 was told by the inhabitants
that they generally disappeared in the spring. On the 20th
of March I found these birds extremely numerous on the bor-
ders of the ponds near Louisville, Ky., and also in the neigh-
borhood of Lexington, in the same State, as late as the 10th
of April. I was told by several people that they are abundant
in the Illinois country up as far as Lake Michigan. They are
but seldom seen in Pennsylvania during the summer, but are
occasionally met with in considerable numbers, on their return
in autumn, along the whole east side of the Alleghany, from
the sea to the mountains. They have the same soaring,
irregular flight in the air, in gloomy weather, as the Snipe of
Europe ; the same bleating note, and occasional rapid descent,
spring from the marshes with the like feeble squeak, and in
every respect resemble the common Snipe of Great Britain,
except in being about an inch less, and in having sixteen fea-
thers in the tail instead of fourteen, the number said by Bewick
to be in that of Europe. From these circumstances we must
either conclude this to be a different species, or partially

94 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

changed by difference of climate ; the former appears to me the
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 Totanus, Tatler, a sort of
connecting link between the Snipes and Sandpipers — the Plover
proper having no hind toe. This is the only one of the three
families above named that is, in the United States, a land bird,
its habits being those of the European Golden Plover, the
American namesake of which is essentially a shore bird. The
Upland Sandpiper, or Tatler, is thus described by Mr. Audubon :

BARTRAM'S TATLER.

Totanus Bartramms — Upland Plover ', Upland Sandpiper, Frost
bird, Grass Plover.

" Male, 12^.22. 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 than 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 dellected,
and tapering to an obtuse point. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral,
linear, pervious, nearer the edge than the dorsal line. Lower
mandible with the angle very narrow and elongated, beyond it
the outline slightly convex, the sides sloping outward and con-
cave until the middle, afterward flattened, the edges 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 ; secondaries 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

VOL. I.

9

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
co-verts, 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,
lis; to the end of the claws, 13| ; extent of wings, 22 ; wing
from flexure, 7; tail, 3| ; base part of tibia, T9o ; tarsus, l^y ;
first toe, T2 ; claw, ^ ; bill along the ridge, Its ; along the edge
of lower mandible, lfV ; 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-
cie; 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 — Hirundo 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 the 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 15th of May. I have observed the same cir-
cumstance on our Western Prairies, but have thought that 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, when they are poor, they are usually much less
shy than in autumn, when they are exceedingly wary and diffi-
cult of approach ; but this general observation is not without
exceptions, and the difference, I think, depends on the nature of
the localities in which they happen to be found at either period.
When on newly-ploughed fields, which they are fond of fre-

98 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
neads in the manner of Wilson's Plover, and the species called
the Piping, and run off rapidly, or squat, according to the urg-
ency of the occasion. At other times, they partially extend
their wings, run a few steps as if about to fly, and then cun-
ningly move off sideways, and conceal themselves among the
grass, or behind a clod. You are unfrequently rendered aware
of your being near them by unexpectedly hearing tbeir plain-
tive and mellow notes, a circumstance, however, which I
always concluded to be indicative of the wariness of their dis-
position ; for, although you have just heard those well-known
cries, yet, on searching for the bird itself, you nowhere see it —
for the cunning creature has slipped away and hid itself.
When wounded in the wing, they run to a great distance, and
are rarely found.

" Like all experienced travellers, they appear to accommo-
date themselves to circumstances, as regards their food — for in
Louisiana they feed on cantharides and other coleopterous insects ;
in Massachusetts on grasshoppers, on which my friend Nut-
tall says they soon grow fat ; in the Carolinas- on crickets
and other insects, as well as the seeds of the crab-grass — Digi-
taria Sanguinaria — and in the Barrens of Kentucky they often
pick the strawberries. Those which feed much on 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 well be described here. When flavored with the ripe
strawberries on which they have fed, their flesh is truly deli-
cious.

" This species performs its migrations by night as well as by
day. Its flight is rather swift, and well sustained. While tra-
velling, it generally flies so high as to be beyond the reach of
the gun ; but, if the weather be cloudy, or if it blow hard, it
flies lower, and may be easily shot. It generally proceeds in
straggling bands, and moves along with continuous easy beats
of its wings, but sails as it were, when about to alight, as well
as during the love season.

" As long ago as 1805 and 1806, I observed this species
breeding in the meadows and green fields of my plantation of
Millgrove, near the banks of the Perkioming Creek. Since
then, I have known of its rearing broods in 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 Macularius, being broadly rounded
at one end and rather pointed at the other ; their surface smooth,

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 Americanus. Lepus Virginianus.

I have already mentioned, that there is no variety of Rabbit
found on this continent ; although, from the smaller size, the
lighter and grayer color of its fur, and its general resemblance
to the wild Rabbit of Europe, the smaller species — Lepus Ame-
ricanus— which is found in almost every part of the United
States and Canada, is invariably termed, and very generally be-
lieved to be a Rabbit.

This misnomer is not, like the calling Grouse " Pheasant, and
Partridge," a mere error in nomenclature, used by persons who
are well aware of the distinction, and sometimes adopt the
false instead of the true name, as it were compulsorily, and in
order to make themselves understood by the ignorant — as I have
found myself obliged to term Woodcock Blind Snipe, in conver-
sation with country people — but is an absolute mistake, Avhich
is held by many sportsmen, who will not be convinced of the
contrary.

Sportsmen are, indeed, but too apt to undervalue, and even
ridicule, the minute distinctions of the naturalist ; not understand-
ing how so small differences as are in some questions alone 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, positively 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. The Rabbit.
" Length, from nose to tip of hind claws, 16 inches ; length

102 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

of hind legs, 10r\; of head, 3^; of ears, 3f2 ; 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."— Dekayh Nat. 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, 20-25 inches ; of the hind legs,
11t% ; of fore legs, 6fV ; of the head, 3fV; of the ears, 3-^ ; of
the tail, lr%; weight, 6|lbs.

u 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
common Hare, Lepus Timidus, 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." — Deka^s Nat. Hist.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 105

With these seven birds and two quadrupeds I might properly
enough close my enumeration of our Upland game. There are,
however, six species of Duck, which I have named above — The
Dusky, vulgo Black Duck; 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 worthy
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 the Mallard.

106 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

THE MALLARD.

Anas Boschas — le Canard Sauvage. — 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 lamellse 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 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 scutella, laterally and behind with small reticulated scales.
Hind toe extremely small, with a very narroAv 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 wing:;
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, 2T22 ; tarsus, If; middle toe,
2T32 ; its claw f^; 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 win°-s 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 2|.

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
scattered 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 skiff", projecting before it in
such a manner that the weight of the frame sinks the figures to
the proper depth ; the skiff" 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 floats 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 skiff, 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 water 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 FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

many as he can conveniently stow away, without in the least
alarming 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." — Wilsoii'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 — Fuligulce. 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. Upper mandible with the dorsal line sloping and a little
concave, the ridge at the base broad and ilat, toward the end
broadly convex, as are the sides ; the edges soft and thin, the
marginal lamellae 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
with 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.

VOL. I. 10

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
wing and the axillaries, white.

" Length to the end of tail, 24| inches ; to the end of claws,
26 ; extent of wings, 38| ; bill, 2i% along the back ; wing from
flexure, 111; tail, 4r 2 ; tarsus, lf|; middle toe, 2y32 ; first toe,
,-S2 ; its claw, T2 ; weight, 3lbs.

" Adult female.

" The female, which is somewhat smaller, resembles the male
in color, but is more brown, and has the speculum of the same
tints, but without the white terminal line.

" Length to the end of tail, 22 inches ; to the end of wings,
21{ ; to the end of claws, 22 ; wing from flexure, 10^ ; extent
of wings, 34t ; tarsus, 2 ; middle toe and claw, 2\ ; hind toe and
claw, T52.

" 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 en land and
water. On the 30th of April, 1S37, 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 it's walls were nearly three in thick-
ness. The female was sitting, but flew off in silence as he ap-
proached. The situation was a clump of tall, slender grass, on
a rather sandy ridge, more than a hundred yards from the near-
est 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 their actions, showed that
they also had nests. I may here state my belief, that the Gad-
wall, Blue-winged Teal, Green-winged Teal, American Widgeon
and Spoon-billed Duck, all breed in that country, .as I observed
them there late in May, when they were evidently paired. How
far this fact may harmonize with the theories of writers respect-
ing the migration of birds in general, is more than I can at pre-
sent stop to consider. I have found the Black Ducks breeding
on lakes near the Mississippi, as far up as to its confluence with
the Ohio, as well as in Pennsylvania and New Jersey ; and
every one acquainted with its habits will tell you that it rears
its young in all the Eastern States intervening between that last
mentioned and the St. Lawrence. It is even found on the Co-
lumbia River, and on the streams of the Rocky Mountains ; but
as Dr. Richardson has not mentioned his having observed it in
Hudson's Bay, or farther north, we may suppose that it does not
visit those countries.

"As many of the nests found in Labrador differed from the
one mentioned above, I will give you an account of them : — In
several instances, we found them imbedded in the deep moss, at
the distance of a few feet, or a few yards from the water ; they
were composed of a great quantity of dry grass and other vege-
table substances ; and the eggs were always placed directly on
this bed, without the intervention, of the down and feathers,
which, however, surrounded them, and which, as I observed,
the bird always uses to cover them, when she is about to leave
them for a time. The eggs are two inches and a quarter in

114 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
States as it is known to breed in. They are equally voracious,
and may sometimes be seen with their crops so protruded as to
destroy the natural elegance of their form. When on the water,
they obtain their food by immersing their head and neck in the
water, and, like the Mallard, sift the 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 difficult 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." — Audubon 's Birds
of America.

THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL.
Anas Discors.

" Male, 16.31|. 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 ridge
broad and flat at the base, suddenly narrowed over the nostrils,
broader and convex toward the end ; the sides erect at the base,
afterward sloping and 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, with about a hundred and twenty lamellae.

" Head of a moderate size, oblong, compressed. Neck of
moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Feet
short, jilaced rather far back. Tarsus short, compressed at its
lower part, anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest cov-
ered with 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 with black. The rest of the head, and the anterior
parts of the neck, of a deep purplish-blue, with purplish-red re-
flections ; the lower hind neck and fore-part of back brownish-
black, glossed with green, each feather with a curved band of
pale reddish-buff, and a line or band of the same in the centre ;
the hind part of the back greenish-brown, the feathers edged
with paler. The smaller wing-coverts of a rich ultra-marine
blue, silky, with almost metallic lustre. Alula, primary coverts
and primary quills, grayish-brown, edged with pale bluish ;
outer secondaries of the same color, those of the speculum duck-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 117

green, 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
white. Tail feathers chocolate-brown, slightly glossed with
green ; their margins buffy. 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 lowrer 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, 14] ; to
end of wings, 14]; extent of wings, 31] ; wing from flexure,
7x2 ; tail, 3f% ; bill along the back, 1] ; from frontal process to
tip, lvj- ; tarsus, ly%; first toe and claw, ys '■> middle toe and
claw, l}f ; outer toe and claw, 1TS2 ; weight, 12loz.

" Adult Female.

" Bill greenish-dusky. Iris hazel. Feet of a duller yellow
than those of female 5 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| ; extent of wings, 24; wing from flexure,
7J- ; tail, 2jV ; bill along the ridge, 2T%; weight, lOfoz,

118 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

" The young birds are similar to the female, but paler, and
without the speculum." — Audubon'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 firsl
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." — WiU
soil's Am. Ornithology.

The Blue-Winged Teal is stated to be very easily tamed, and
very docile in confinement. It is strange that this bird and the
Wood Duck are not both domesticated.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 1 19

THE GREEN-AVINGED TEAL.

Anas Crecca, sive, Carolinensis.

" Male, 141.24. 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 lamella?. Nostrils
sub-basal, near the ridge rather small, elliptical, pervious.
Lower mandible flatfish, with the angle very long and rather
narrow. The dorsal line very short, straight, the sides perpen-
dicular, with about a hundred and thirty lamellae.

•" 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
longest ; 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 with black below ; under which is a white line,
which, before the eye, meets another that curves forward and
downward to the angles of the mouth. Chin brownish-black, as
are the feathers at the base of the 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 cream-
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, 3r ; bill
along the back, lyj ; along the edge of lower mandible, lyk 5
tarsus, lj% ; middle toe, ly62 ; its claw, y^ ; 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. 121

lower part of the foreneck is tinged 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|; weight, lOoz." — Audubonh 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 difference in the variety, and
of its being constant in the Northern specimens. Thus, Dr.
Latham mentions the white pectoral band. Forster says, ' This
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 Ave 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 particularly
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 repeatedly shot this bird on both continents, and
am now thoroughly convinced that the two species are perma-
nently and invariably distinct. In my first edition I recorded a
contrary opinion, but subsequent examination of many specimens
has led to a correcter judgment. The transverse lunated bar
on the shoulder of the American species, as exhibited in the
accompanying cut, is the distinctive mark, and I am not sure
but that our bird is somewhat the larger.

THE WOOD DUCK — SUMMER DUCK.

Anas Sponsa.

" Male, 20^.28. Female, 194.

" 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.
Wings 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

i24 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, l-j% ; tarsus, l-fV ; middle toe and claw, 2y32 ;
wing from flexure, 9 ; tail, 4|.

" Adult female.

" The female is considerably smaller, and differs greatly from
the male in coloring. The feathers of the head are not elon-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 125

gated, but those of the upper part of the neck are slightly 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 with 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 flight 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
beginning 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, Picus 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." — Audubori'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
vol. I. H

128 FKANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

general dicta, ascribing these habits invariably to this or thaf
species, much confusion and inconvenience may be attributed.

As an instance, I will merely state here, what I shall go into
more largely 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 ignorantly or wilfully falsified
the truth.

Such mistakes should be guarded against with care, and all
conflicting statements, as made by candid and earnest enquirers,
regarded 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 — Bnssott.
The Winter Duck, Sprigtail, Pigeontail, vulgo.

" Male 29.36. Female 22|.34.

" 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 SHOOTING. 129

" Bill nearly as long us the head, deeper than hroad at the
base, depressed toward the end, the frontal angles short and
obtuse. Upper mandible with dorsal line at first sloping, then
concave — toward the curved unguis nearly straight ; the ridge
broad and flat at the base, then broadly convex ; the sides
convex ; the edges soft, with about fifty internal lamella? ;
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 lamella?.

" 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. Feathers 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 rapidby 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, 2f% ; along the edge of lower mandible,
2y32 ; tarsus, Its ; middle toe with claw, 2^2 ; wing from flexure,
11 ; tail, b\ ; weight 21bs.

" 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| inches ; extent of wings, 34 ; weight, lib. 9oz.

" The first 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 Mag-deleine 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 swim 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 water, 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 Fuligulce, 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
Slates ; 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 Gadwall, 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, Fuligula Clangula,
and t-he Buffel-Head, Fuligula 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.*

* Since writing the above page, I ascertained, during two journeys
through Canada, one along the northern shore of Lake Huron so far as to
the Sault St. Marie, first, that " Widgeon " are exceedingly abundant on
the rivers and rice lakes of that region.

And secondly, that on Lake Champlain and on the St. Lawrence, about
Prescott, the Golden Eye is the most numerous Duck, and that which
affords most sport on those waters.

For the description of an excellent Duck, which I found very abundant
on the upper lakes, and which I believe to be a nondescript, though the
point is not quite decided, see Vol. II, Appendix F.

134

FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

THE UPLAND SHOOTING

OF THE

EASTERN AND MIDDLE STATES, AND OF THE
BRITISH PROVINCES.

PLAND SHOOTING, which,
with the interval of about three
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 different 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 A^ariety 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 Preservation ;" though I have but slight hopes that
any steps will be taken, which can avail to preserve all the
winged game of America from speedy extermination. In like
manner, I shall defer the observations, which I propose to make
on the species, management, diseases, etc., of Sporting Dogs, and
and on the qualities and management of the Fowlingpiece, and
the art of shooting on the Wing, until I have got through what I
have to say on Upland shooting generally.

And here I will remark, once for all, in reply to a question
which has already been propounded to me several times, since it
has transpired that I am engaged on this work — " Whether any
portion of it will be set apart 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,

]36 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

and seeing with his own eyes ; and above all, cause him to
avoid regarding the smallest peculiarity he may observe in the
field of nature unworthy of consideration.

With regard to the art of shooting, a very few instructions only
can be given, and they can do but little toward the formation of a
shot. Practice alone can make a good shot, even of one en-
dowed with the greatest natural aptitude ; and, without the
gift of natural aptitude, no one can ever hope to be a crack
shot on the wing. No one, however, who desires it, need des
pair of becoming, in something more than a moderate degree,
a proficient in this beautiful art, since the introduction of the
percussion system ; which has so greatly simplified the art,
and diminished the difficulty of shooting on the wing, that it
is a current remark now-a-days that, "a bad shot in 1848
is a rarer thing to meet than a good one was in 1S00."

The same thing is in a less degree the case with the man-
agement of dogs in the field ; there are, it is true, general, aye,
and particular rules, which may be laid down for the guidance
of the hunter ; which rules, if strenuously put in practice, shall
be in themselves all sufficient. But to this end practice is
essential — practice in learning when and how each rule is to
be put in force ; practice in controlling impatience, in combat-
ing temper, in acquiring perfect coolness and complete self-
command. No man may hope, let him know how to do so
never so well, to govern his dogs, until he has learned first
to govern himself. If I were asked to state what were the
three things most necessary to the formation of the perfect
sportsman, I think I should parody the reply of the great
Athenian rhetorician, and reply, " Practice ! practice ! practice !"

But of these things severally in their places : and now to
the field for spring Snipe-shooting.

UPLAND SHOOTING.

137

SPRING SNIPE-SHOOTING,

American Snipe, — Scolopax Wilsonil,— 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 northward, 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 Middle
States, becoming 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 FRANK FORESTER^ FIELD SPORTS.

Nova Scotia they may perhaps be regarded as a summer resident ;
though I am persuaded that their numbers, even there, in the
spring 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, unsportsmanlike
practice, he is met and silenced by some such exquisite reason as
this — that if spring Snipe-shooting were prohibited, we should
have no spring 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 Philadelphia 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 spring 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 whisps 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 who 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
stay 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 flights 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
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 their
arrival and departure within the limits I have named, as Mr.
Audubon would make.

That eloquent writer and accurate observer, states the arrival
of this bird to be a month later, varying with the season, in
Maine than in Pennsylvania ; and ten days later yet in Nova

UPLAND 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. Eax-ly 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 his coming also.

The next observation that I would make in this place, is to
guard the sportsman, in the United States and Canada, from
placing 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 their habits, haunts and seasons ; and one point of
difference alone is sufficient to render all that is laid down with
regard to the manner of hunting them there, entirely useless
here. 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

142 FEANK 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 first 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 pi'ogress 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 arrival, he generally hangs for two or three 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, overflow the salt meadows, before a solitary
Snipe has appeared inland. Then the salt marshes about the
months 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 warm
day after a long, easterly rain-storm ; and, so thoroughly am I
convinced of this fact, that for many seasons, while resident in
New York, it was my habit to order my horses, and set out on
the third day of a north-eastern storm, if the sky showed the
slightest prospect of clearing, before the rain had in the least
abated. It has more than once happened to me, thus setting off
late in 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 will 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, if
he be wise, will be those soft, moist, silvery mornings, which so
often follow slight hoar-frosts, when the heaven is covered with
the thinnest filmy haze, through which the sunbeams are poured
down warm but mellow, and when there is just enough of low
vol. i. 22

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 of ten, 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 ve-ry 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 with ourselves, that we met and conversed with them
more than once each day. These gentlemen bagged, in all,
eleven Snipe and a Sandpiper ; and that for the simplest reason
imaginable — they did not know where to look for Snipe in wild
weather, while we did.

It 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. Bui
in such, as the ground is either bare or but sparsely covered, they
will 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 feed,
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 succession, 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,

146 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

who, shooting at every bird that rises in distance, can kill four out
of five under the most favorable circumstances, day in and day
out. He who bags three out of five, in covert and out of covert,
from March Snipe to December Quail, is a top-sawyer ; and
can hold his own anywhere, and against any one.

Some men may perhaps kill twenty shots in succession, picked
out of fifty birds which ought to have been shot at ; but my word
for it, they will get easily beaten by the man who pretends to no
such feat, but who pulls his trigger, whenever there is a chance
of killing.

The real test of shooting, no less than of sportsmanship, is the
finding and bagging the greatest number of birds within a given
time, without the smallest reference to the number of shots fired.

The surest of all ways to ensure the never becoming a good
shot, is to be afraid of missing. Shoot at everything that rises
within distance, remembering always, as an old Yorkshire game-
keeper, by whose side I bagged my first Snipe some eight-and-
twenty years ago, was wont to admonish me, that t' Snaipe was
i' t' maist danger. If you miss, say with Jacob Faitbful, "bet-
ter luck next time," and endeavor to observe and remember how
and why you missed him ; whether you shot above, below, or to
the right or left of him ; this will give you steadiness and cool-
ness at first ; and, when you succeed in remembering, will have
done much already toward preventing you from missing fair
shots at least. For the rest, birds will dodge, at times, just when
the trigger is drawn ; boughs will be in the way ; the sun will
shine in the face of the best shots — moreover, the steadiest nerves
will sometimes be shaken or unstrung, and the quickest finger
will be a thumb on some days to the best sportsman.

I know a right good shot, and a good sportsman too, and a
good friend of mine to boot, who does not pretend to kill quite
three out of five, year in and year out ; but who is wont to say,
which is very wrong of him, though I believe perfectly true, that
he'll be d — d if he can't beat any man, who can kill twenty shots
in succession.

So much for thine encouragement, my young beginner.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 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 kill them. That, I am satisfied no man ever
did, nor ever will do.

This, though applicable especially to Snipe, is true of all sorts
of Game. After the observation, which has led me to this little
digression, Mr Audubon remarks that he has found the best
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 to
shoot this bird, is to shoot at him during the instantaneous point
of time in which he hangs on the wind — that is to say, to pull
the trigger the very instant the butt of your, gun touches your
shoulder.

The old school method was to wait till the bird had done
twisting, and was at some forty yards distance; but all that
stuff, like taking a pinch of snuff after a bird rises and before
raising the gun, was well enough for the days of long, single-
barrelled guns with flint locks. A good shot of the present day
would knock over his dozen couple of right and left shots — not
in succession, gentle reader — while one of those slow coaches
was painfully picking up his half dozen. Cceteris paribus, the
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 is for a pot-hunter ! Indeed, I be-
lieve, nine times out of ten, as many birds, perhaps more,
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 purposes
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 whether they be fast or
slow — they are worthless.

The most effective-sized shot for Snipe shooting is unquestion-
ably No. 8. With coarser shot, the charge will be so much
dispersed that so small a bird as the Snipe will constantly
escape being hitj even when covered fairly ; with smaller,
birds will continually be wounded only, within point blank
distance ; and will frequently go away entirely unharmed.
Farther than this, it is very rare to find a lever-topped belt or
flask — which is by far the best implement for carrying shot —
that will not suffer -any shot smaller than No. 8 to escape, even
when the spring is ckvvn.

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,
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 ;
and when fired from a close-shooting gun, properly brought to
bear, will riddle its target thoroughly at the same distance. All
that is gained in weight and power by the use of larger shot, is
lost in the condensation of a charge. This will be easily under-
stood when the reader is informed that an ounce of No. 8 shot
contains six hundred grains, or pellets, while No. 7 contains but
three hundred and forty-one ; so that at the same distance,
with the same gun, the chances are nearly as two to one in
favor of hitting a small mark with No. 8 over the larger shot ;
the greater the distance, the greater the advantage in this respect
of the smaller pellets ; inasmuch as all shot are propelled on

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. S 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
from 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 yoii charge with
powder, the more 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 carrying 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 barrel, 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 fat
as the walking is concerned, and requires an athletic frame,
and a hardy constitution. For my own part, I have never
found any contrivance succeed in keeping the feet dry ; for a
single fall, or heavy splash, things of common occurrence, will
fill the tops of the longest and most secure water-proof boots;

150 crank FORESTER'S WELD 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, in equally uncom-
fortable, unwholesome, and filthy, The moment boots are lull
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
ofheavy cowhide, for all sorts of sporting, These may be worn
either with short gaiterS and trousers; or, what I consider
in every particular superior, and especially in the facility they
^iv<; to movement in encumbered ground, or among brushwood
and stumps, knee-breeches, and leathern leggins, buttoned on
the outside. The breeches may be made <>r 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 io heavy boots and trousers,

II', however, I he Snipe ;,hoolei i;i delermined 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 donlde the price, in i\e\\ York.

I will here, farther state, that Mr. Cullen, No, L19 Broad-
way, New-York, is the only workman on this aide the Atlantic,
whom I know, that can turn out a real-working-shooting-bool
or shoe,

ll'yon adopt my plan, reader mine, you must make up you?

mind Io get wel. ihromdi in live minutes alier going OUt, and Io

continue wel through, until your return home at night ; bul be-
lieve me, as in many other cases; ee n'eat que le premier pas qui
coute, the first shock Is all thai .yon have to dread; the water
within the shoe immediately becomes warm, I » y contact with
the foot, and yon ihinl- no more about it, after five minutes)
while in a long day's fag the absence <>l" ihe heavy, dragging

UPLAND 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 cannot 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 prejiaration for keeping boots, or leathern leggins,
soft, is currier 's dubbing, which can be procured of any tanner.
The best water dressing is equal parts of tar, tallow, and Venice
turpentine, 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 wet 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-
bly 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.

I 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 wild and very windy weather,
when birds lie the worst, one-third more shots may be got, and
double the number of birds killed, than by giving your dogs, as
it is called, the wind in their noses. In the latter mode, it is
true, you will have your dogs continually drawing, and perhaps
pointing, and will have the satisfaction of hearing the " scaipe,
scaipe," 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-shooting is always more or less snap shooting, that you
will get a long cross shot at these, and perhaps bag them ; and,
at all events, for every bird you lose thus, you will lose four
which will whistle away unshot 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 above the Little Falls, on the
Passaic, the result of which I will mention as tending to exem-
plify the fact I have been insisting on.

I did not at the time know this fellow, though subsequently 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-
ledge 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 on
entering the meadow, I perceived a man in a black velveteen
jacket, with three very 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 down 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 observe, 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 returned 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 SPOKTS.

flattering enough to say, did know something about shooting,
should be such a flat as to shoot Snipe down-wind. 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 marvelled, 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 alarmed 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
both 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 point. But blaze at him, and per-
haps 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 othei's. 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 observer, 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 pasture 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 from the spot
toward the horizon — in case the ground is quite devoid of any
near landmark of stump, bush, pool, or the like — where you will
be nearly sure to find some tree, building, hill-top, or other emi-
nent object, which you may bring into one line 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 jrood
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 fal's. 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 care-
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 lie 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 I 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 turn 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
work 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 the 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 shot is fired ; another, to come in before

158 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,
without stirring 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 occurence, 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 carry a few red car-
tridges of No. 1 or No. 2 shot, — Col. Hawker observing 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 ; foi", 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's face, 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 "should always be yielded, espe-
cially by the person who hunts the dogs, and who may be in
some sort regarded as at home, and therefore bound to do the
honors to his comrade.

Where two pei'sons 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 observed, 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 like 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.

VOL. I. 13

160 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

I first observed this habit of the American Snipe, which is ut-
terly at variance with the habit of its European congener, at the
English Neighborhood, on the Hackensack River, where, by
mere accident, I stumbled on a number of birds in the cow-
paths, among thick brushwood, far above the salt meadows, to-
ward the Upland. I next found them in similar ground on a
very wild day, at the end of March, or the beginning of April,
on the Long Meadow at Pine Brook. On that occasion the
birds were all busily employed in drumming, — a habit of the
Snipe, as it is generally stated by naturalists, during the breed-
ing season. I have myself, however, never witnessed it, except
immediately on their arrival in this district, long before they had
even begun to pair. The habit is, however, clearly connected
with their nuptial and vernal propensities, and probably conti-
nues from the commencement of 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. ] 61

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 quill-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 American 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 birds ; but, on two different occasions,
when the birds were at the very wildest, drumming away for
hours at a stretch, and not giving even a chance of a shot, I
have observed another cry, which I cannot find recorded either
by Wilson or Audubon, any more than the practice, by which
it is accompanied, of alighting on fences, stumps, and even on
tall tree-tops.

This cry is a sharp, reiterated chatter, consisting of a quick,
jarring repetition of the syllables, JceJc-Jcek-Jcek-lceJt-Jcelc, 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, after having descended, while it is skim-
ming low over the sm-face of the bog meadows, previous to
alighting. While in this humor, I have never seen them alight
directly into the grass, but have invariably observed them to set-
tle first on the stump of a dead tree, or on a rail fence, and

162 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

thereafter drop into the rushes. On both of these occasions, the
birds lighted many times on the very topmost branches of the
willows, and other trees, which lined the fences ; and on one oc-
casion, I 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, then 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 woidd 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. 163

once, especially in the ways of animals, is like to occur again ;
and 1 should not hesitate, when there was no tract of low
springy underwood near at hand to Snipe meadows, to heat
high wet woodlands for this bird, during the permanence of
cold storms and violent winds, sufficient to drive them from the
open fields. At all events, let the sportsman remember that in
the Middle and Eastern States, bushy ground, briar-patches,
alder and willow brakes, and 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 aAvare 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 the 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-
socks, and the ditch. I had never, at that time, observed the
natural motions of the Snipe, when unalarmed ; and I stood
watching him, for some time, as he walked gracefully to and
fro, and stooped down once or twice and bored in the mud,
oringing up each time a small red angle-worm in his bill, utterly
unconscious of my presence. After a minute or two, he delib-
erately entered the ditch, and oared himself across it, as easily
and far 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 inclined to doubt. I was well aware pre-
viously of the fact, that many of the Shore-birds and Sand-
pipers swim on emergency, but I little suspected the Snipe of
possessing the like power.

I know not that 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 heard any cry from
the Snipe except the regular " scaipe ;" nor have I ever seen

UPLAND SHOOTING. ] G5

it manifest the slightest inclination to alight on fence, rail, log
or tree. I therefore, suppose these habits to be, like drumming,
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 learn, 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 barren 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-
ter, or saw him take the tree ; and I am certain that he never
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
American species of Snipe, as there is between the American
Crow and the Carrion Crow of Europe," that in my opinion
the cry of the two Snipes is perfectly identical ; and in this
view I am corroborated by the judgment of several English
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 speqies, noti-
ces the difference in size — but otherwise in appearance, and
in all their ordinary habits, they are identical. I lay, how-
ever, great stress on the difference of note, in the breeding
season, and in the other peculiarities alluded to, as setting the
question of variety on a much broader and more distinct base,

166 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

than the distinction 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
down 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 from, 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 the
9th of November, at Pine Brook. I have been assured, how-
ever, by an excellent sportsman, on whose word I can fully
rely, that he has killed them on a spring brook, in which the
water never freezes in the hardest weather, daily, until the
19th of December. This was in Orange county, moreover,
where the frost sets in at least a fortnight earlier than it does
below the Highlands of the Hudson. The same gentleman,
some years since, killed thirty-five Woodcock on the 13th day
of December ; a circumstance, so far as my knowledge goes,
unparalleled in this region. There is, however, no possible
doubt of the fact ; as, being himself aware of its strangeness,
he 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-
dows, until the coldness of the weather compels them to travel
southward ; that they lie much better to the dog, allowing
themselves to be pointed steadily, and rarely flushing out of
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
struck by their apparently unusual size ; when I weighed
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
all birds that feed on, or near the water, he must be eaten fresh.
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-
sible they should be eaten within twenty-four hours after being
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-
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 suff.
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.

fe

UP.LAND SHOOTING.

169

SUMMER WOODCOCK SHOOTING.

HE wisdom of our game laws has
decided that Woodcock shall be kill-
ed and taken, by all and sundry, in
the State of New- York, on and after
the first, in the State of New Jersey
on and after the fifth day of July ;
although 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 carried, that by means
of a convention of this sort, the shooting of AYoodcock 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 garrisons 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 as

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 own 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.

UrLAND SHOOTING. 171

Now, although the length of time occupied hy incubation, is
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 this, 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 from 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 one parent bird eacJi.

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 6\ oz., which appears to me, beyond
all question, inadequately low, — and that of the female, at 8 g- oz. ;
while in length the female exceeds the male only by t72 of an
inch. This difference is inconceivable, not to say impossible.
The understatement of the male Woodcock's weight struck me

o

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 now, that 6| oz. is a typographical er-
ror for 8]- ; which I should have stated, if asked suddenly, as
about the average weight of a full-grown Woodcock. The bird
from which the accompanying wood-cut was taken, shot by my-
self on the 23d of October, 1843, weighed 91 oz., measured 13
inches 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 carry 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 and twenty-five birds 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 ground had been hunted before that
season, and all the birds killed off, except the handful that we 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 1" I answered, " Wait till to-morrow even-
ing, when we shall have beat our other ground, and I will 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 1" I replied, " All the young
broods have been destroyed by the freshet, except the very few
which got 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,
liovering, and no young ones.

Still my companion was incredulous as to the second broods,
until 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
brush 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-
wound ed. 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.
So 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.

Chance would carry a hurt bird by the tip of his wing, with-
out ruffling a feather; and though it will hardly be believed, I
took the little fledgling from his mouth unharmed, 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 have convinced me ;
and since that day I have never ceased to advocate a change
and simplification of our game laws, which should prohibit the
killing 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 perma-
nent footing, of which I flatter myself there is still a remote hope
left to the true sportsman, there is nothing left but to make the
best of it, — to take the field ourselves, with the bt tfoXXoi, 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 rarely 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-

vol. i. ]4

176 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

stantly ; by night he seeks his food ; by night he makes his
long and direct migrations, choosing for this latter purpose
foggy weather, at or about the full of the moon.

By day he lies snugly ensconced in some lonely brake,
among long grass and fern, under the shade of the dark alder
or the silvery 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 hungry 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 woi*m 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 broo.l
have left the parent birds, which departure occurs 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 neighboi'hood, 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
niug of the moult, when the bird disappears from among us for

UPLAND SHOOTING. 177

a while, the young broods are found on the ground in which
they are bred.

And there is scarcely any sort of ground, in which the soil
consists of black vegetable mould, or rich 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 bed 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 the high-
est hills ; but the favorite breeding ground of the bird is un-
doubtedly level marsh meadows, interspersed with clumps and
thickets of willow and alder, maple groves, growing on swampy
land, and warm sequestered vallies.

In South- West Jersey, they are found in the greatest abun-
dance on perfectly open meadows, among bog grass and rushes,
in exactly what would usually be called admirable Snipe-
ground ; and I have killed them in the neighborhood of Salem,
in considerable numbers, where there was not a tree or bush
within half a mile. This approximation of habits between the
two kindred species, of Snipe and Woodcock, is very curious
and interesting — the former bird, as we have seen above, under
certain circumstances and in peculiar districts, betaking himself
to the wooded haunts of his nearest blood relation, and the lat-
ter, when in a treeless country, making himself at home among
marshy levels better adapted to the general habits of his cousin.
On no ground, however, have I ever seen, or shall I, I much
fear, ever again see this bird in such multitudes, as on what are
called the " Drowned Lands " in Orange county, N. Y. These
are a vast tract of level country, surrounding the various branch-
es and tributary streams of the Walkill — it extends many miles
in length, and contains every sort of lying — tall open groves,
impenetrable fastnesses of brake and thicket, wide reaches of
perfectly open bog-meadow, and as wide expanses of open

178 FRANK FORESTER'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 3 839 I shot
ove*r 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 overrun 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 would give it, and be Lut 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 rural
sportsmen. I really should greatly rejoice at seeing something
of this sort attempted. Its effect would be most beneficial on
the preservation of game generally throughout the United
States.

At the beginning of the Woodcock 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
bi'oods 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 purpose 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, " consuls Planco" 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 season has been annihilated already, or the ground so

180 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

persecuted 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, 1
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 harvests
have been garnered to the farmer's he art- 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 necessai-ily to be drilled out of them, by early and
incessant rating, watching and admonition — I mean their speed,
range and dash.

The highest merit a thorough-bred and thoroughly-broke
Setter or Pointer can possess in Europe, on his proper ground,
and in pursuit of his proper game, is never, unless he be at a
dead point, or down to charge, to be within five hundred yards
of his master, always beating his ground, head up and stern
down, at full gallop. Here in covert at least, where nine-tenths
of his work is done, his highest merit is never to be twenty
yards distant from him.

He must unlearn his own nature, and acquire that of the
Spaniel ; in so far, at least, as to substitute unwearied industry,
short, continually-succeeding turns, and the closest possible
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

PPLAND SHOOTING. 181

lio-lit. He must be prepared to back his fellow, oftf-ner at
the word " Toho!" than at sight of his point ; for so difficult is
the covert in which his duty is done, that I have more than
once seen three several dogs standing within a square of six
yards, on one bird, not one of which suspected his comrade's
presence. Again, he must be broke to drop where he is when
the shot is discharged, instantaneously, and to lie there until
commanded to " Seek dead ;" when he must draw up to the
killed bird, point it, and at the word " Fetch," perform the
duty of a retriever.

This it is, which makes a really fine, and thoroughly broke,
Woodcock dog so nearly invaluable.

Shooting as we do in this country in thickets overrun
with vines, creepers, and cat-briars, t > which the densest cop-
pice or covert I ever have seen in England, was open-work,
and that too, when every tree, plant and shrub is covered
with its most luxuriant summer foliage, it is evident that a
dog cannot be visible half the time at a distance of ten paces ;
and that it is only by his keeping in constant 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 the day in looking for them.

Another great difficulty in summer Cock-shooting, over
Setters, is this, that when the bird is pointed, as he almost
universally is, from the outside of a brake inward, it is almost
impossible to get a fair shot at him, 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,

182 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

kept down by painful instruction, and will dash in and flush
their game.

When shooting in company, as one always should do, if pos-
sible, especially in July, I have always made it a point, when
the dogs were standing, so as to render it likely that the shot
would be a ticklish one, to call up my comrade, — birds lie 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 having shot
principally with friends who did not, it has always been my
luck to have the gamekeeper's work, and to be forced to drive
through the thick of the tangle, while the others could pick their
way along 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, uttei"ly 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 observation
which 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 rule which should
never be neglected, on any pretence." Mr. Colquhoun here
means, that the dog should be taught to charge, on the bird ris-
ing, whether shot at, or not ; and unquestionably he is right in
the matter. " The steadiness of a dog," he proceeds, "whether
old or young, depends entirely upon its being 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 forward, never to stir, — coolly allow him to tear
away at the game until 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 fired,
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 observed, 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 surprised at learning two things, — that Setters, or Point-
ers, were invariably broke to "fetch," 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 doo- for me, to drop to shot, on the spot, without coming in,
was so thoroughly convinced of its advantage, in giving steadi-
ness, in avoiding unnecessary words and orders, and in render-
ing the dog promptly obedient, that he at once adopted the me-
thod, and has never broken a dog otherwise since that time.

I must add, that I am equally well satisfied, that to retrieve

UPLAND SHOOTING. 185

is a necessary accomplishment for a Setter or Pointer in this
country ; that it would he an advantage everywhere ; and that
a dog can be precisely as steady fetching every bird, as he can
if incapable of so doing.

But he must invariably be made, not only to down-charge,
hut to point dead, before he is allowed to fetch. If the second
duty is neglected, it will be a very little while before the ani-
mal begins to rush in at every shot, without charging.

One great difficulty here is, that no one in America having
gamekeepers, the hunting of the dog, so soon as he is turned
out of the breaker's hands, falls directly on the master — who is
very generally, even if himself a very 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 hunted 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 they may guide themselves in their own
conduct toward the animal thereby, 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 before buying them.
Another thing is worthy of observation — a dog never ought to
be lent. I would not lend my dog to a better sportsman than
myself — because no two sportsmen hunt their dogs, as I have
observed, exactly alike, and I wish my dog to hunt as I want
him to hunt, not better than he 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, the one of which has never been hunted
but by one master, and the other by every one whom he has
been pleased to follow.

I have taken the opportunity of making these observations
on dog-breaking, and dog-hunting, in this place, because in
summer Woodcock shooting, above any other phase of the
sport, an implicit obedience, great steadiness, and perfect
staunchness is required in the dog. In Quail, or Snipe-shooting,
you can see your dog the greater part of the time ; you can
observe 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 fem, 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, wliere fieouglit
to be, and find him because he is there, pointing as you expected.
A step or two forward, with your thumb on the hammer, and
the nail of your forefinger touching the inside of your trigger-
guard. Still he stands steady as a rock ; and you know by
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 down a shower of green leaves, and

UPLAND SHOOTING. 187

among them you fancy that you have seen an indistinct some-
thing falling 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 water-grass, with his nose pressed into the very
earth between his paws.

You drop your hutt upon the toe of your hoot, if the ground
be very wet, and begin to load, rapidly, yet coolly and delibe-
rately. Yes ! you have killed 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 serve you the
worse, for that he looks for his reward.

Here, gentle reader, is what thou art expected to do on oc-
casion. Do it thus, always, and thou 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 impei'vious 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 1 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 1 To his mere success
as a sportsman, I have already shown that a knowledge of the
habits and instincts of animals is necessary ; and let a man once
set himself to study these, and he has turned already the first
page of natural history ; and so enticing is the study, that he
perforce 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, nympharum fugientum ama-
tor ; and to the very farthest flight of their coy footsteps must
he follow them. Were it not for this, the sportsmailwere 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

190 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SFORTS.

couch, lulled by the murmur of the wind in the never-silent
tree tops, by the far plash of falling waters, by the plaintive
wailing of the whip-poor-will, and the joyous revelry of the dew-
drinking katydids — the sleep, under the blue vault of the skies,
guarded 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, whirring 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
sharp whistle high above the tree tops ; it may be the skulking
Hare, bouncing among the kalmias and rhododendrons, vulgarly
generalized as laurels — they might as well be called cabbages !
— it may be Teal or Wood-duck, or if we are in the open, it may
be Snipe, slurring away zig-zag over the rushy level.

This it is which gives so strange a zest to the field sports of
an American autumn day, and which renders the autumn shoot-
ing of this country the wildest and most interesting of any it
has ever been my luck to encounter — of any, I presume, in the
world, unless it be that of Northern India, on the lower slopes,
and in the plains at the foot of the Himalayan Mountains.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 191

And with this ends all that is to be said on summer "Wood-
cock shooting ; for the period during which the sport can be
followed is of itself brief, not lasting — 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 features 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 full-grown, the Woodcock
withdraws for the purpose of moulting, and returns 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, and 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 or 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
vol. I. 15

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 this
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 this 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 bii'd 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 ; since, 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 whirring, 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, be either
run up, or turned out of the grass, and caught in the mouth
sometimes ; which 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 com 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 farmers would tell me " they were as thick as fowls in the
corn-fields ; " and I have not on any occasion flushed more
than three birds, in any one field ; nor have I killed twenty-five
on such ground altogether.

194 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

Somewhat, I must confess, to my surprise, I have observed
within the last few weeks, a long and somewhat elaborate
article, in the columns of that admirable journal, the New- York
Spirit 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 1 What does become of them ?"
To which sage questions it is, I grieve to say, my fate to be
unable to make satisfactory reply.

I was formerly 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 solitary 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 cf showing the fine view
thence to a city friend, he found the brushwood 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 next day, with dog
and gun, in order to profit by his discovery, hut was prevented
doing so by casual circumstances, until the frost had set in
keenly in the woods. He then climbed the hill, and beat it
carefully with dogs, without obtaining one point to reward his
labor ; and on the next day found the swamps below full of
birds.

Not vouching for the truth of this tale, I tell it as 'twas told
to me ; the teller was a sportsman, and a man of average vera-
city— that is to say, I should 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 infonnation.

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
correct, the birds are dispersed at this period of the year, and
are only to be found, casually, in knots of three or four, and
never in greater numbers.

The other, and, on the whole, perhaps more probable sug-
gestion is this: that, after rearing their young, driven by the
heat of the weather — or, it may be, by the temporary exhaustion
of food on their favorite grounds, they move farther northward
as does the English Snipe, yet earlier 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 Scolopax, 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 former, 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 haun's for
miles and miles around our large cities ; too many of them,
alas ! slaughtered before the season, when scarcely able to fly
— when nearly unfit for the table — when a game despicable to
the loyal sportsman, and a victim easy to the pot-hunting knave
who goes gunning with a half-bred, half-broken cur, and a Ger-
man fowling-piece, dear at a dollar's purchase.

Oh ! gentlemen legislators — gentlemen sportsmen,

" Reform it altogether !"
Oh ! ye choice spirits, who stood forth, after the long, hard

UPLAND SHOOTING. 197

winter and deep snow-drifts Q,uail-destroying of 1S36, 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
swarm, on the first of July, with guns more numerous than
birds ; the Warwick 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 bunglers, and
ruthlessly devonred before the season has set in, by ignorant
voracious cockneys.

4 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 eaith 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
yards, 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 darting, 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 without one ! Him can no German gun achieve, of
cast-iron, scattering its shot over an area of twenty feet, harm-

198 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 lies in the tufted fern and
wintergreens, or the dry sloj)e of some warm, 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 bora like the j)oet, 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 purposes —
weak are they, when compared with the vivid and heart-thril-
ling reality — yet even thus, they will have done their duty if they
succeed in arousing the attention of the true friends of sports-
manship throughout the land, to this most interesting subject.
Certain it is that the Woodcock returns, whether old or young, to
the same place where he was bred and where he has reared his

UPLAND SHOOTING. 199

young, if unmolested. If persecuted and shot oft", year after
year, on his very breeding ground, and while be was in the
very act of breeding, he will desert that ground altogether.
Of this, [have seen proof positive. '" the immediate vicinity of
Warwick, in Orange county, within two miles of the village,
there are twenty little woods and swamps, cadi of which used ten
or twelve years ago to be a certain lind 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 hy 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 eval 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 draft of a petition to the New- York
legislature on this subject, before the New- York Sportsman's
Club in the course of last winter — 1S46-7 — 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 postponed 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 left 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

200 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-morrow, 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
again, bringing all his progeny with him to increase and mul-
tiply, as the tepid winds and warm showers of April and May
will succeed to the easterly gales and snow drifts of March, and
the leaves be green in summer from the buds which burst in
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, #nd 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 principle once be affirmed and made good, and the
details are of infinitely minor importance. They will follow.
For the rest, what is to be done, must be done quickly, or we
shall be liable to the ridicule which falls on the tardy faineant
who locks his stable door after the hcrse 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.

UPLAND SHOOTING.

201

UPLAND PLOVER SHOOTING.

ITH the end of July, all that can
properly be called shooting, as a
genuine sport, is at an end. The
Woodcock, as 1 have already stat-
ed, is no longer to be found, wheth-
er he be lying perdu on the moun-
tain tops, or off on a wilder wing
for the far north. The Snipe has
not yet begun to return from his
arctic breeding places ; the Quail
is still busy with her eggs, or her fledging cheepers ; and the Ruffed
Grouse, although her young are already two-thirds grown, is pro-
tected by the game-laws until the first day of November.

This last protect! n 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
v^f themselves, than any ether 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 ether birds of this order,
rasores, with which I am acquainted, keep together in broods or
coveys until the commencement of the next breeding season ;.
but separate altogether, and ramble about either as single indi-
viduals, or in small parties, during the autumn and winter.

202 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

After this separation has 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 exjject 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 journeys

UPLAND SHOOTING. 203

for the especial purpose of getting this sport in perfection. If
the law authorized the shooting them in September, or at the
latest on the first of October, there are many districts of the
country, where the Ruffed Grouse would afford great sport to
those, who would 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 bonne bouclie for the
epicure goes, is inferior in my judgment to no bird that flies,
unless it be the Canvass-Back; and there, with the Chancellor,
I doubt ! 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.lai'ge number may be
brought 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 Maine by the mid-
dle of that month, to breed from Maryland northward to the
Sashatchewan, and to winter in Texas and Mexico.

It is shot, in the Eastern and Middle 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 greater 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
Jersey 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, fallow-fields, and newly
ploughed grounds, where it finds the various kinds of insect food
to which it is so partial, — grasshoppers, beetles, and all the
small coleopterous flies common to such localities, in the grass
lands — and worms, small snails, and the like, on the fallows.

The Upland Plover is a shy and timid bird ; and, on foot, it
is, for the most part, nearly impossible to approach it. It feeds
on ground such as I have described, in small companies — they
cannot be called flocks, for they do not usually act in concert,
or fly together, rising, if they are startled, one by one, and each
taking its own course, without heeding its companions — this, by
the way, I have noticed as a peculiarity of all the upland scolo-
pacida, none of which fly, so far as I have ever observed, 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 Sandpiper either takes wing at
once, or runs 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.

o

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 SFORTS.

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
with 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 comers of
maize-fields, or behind any casual hiding-places the country
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
sharp-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 time with hopes that will still prove false, unless you have
some such device as Eley's cartridges, by which to turn the
shrewdness of this cunning little schemer to its own destruc-
tion.

In Rhode Island, where alone the sport is now pursued sys-
tematically, the mode adopted 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 permit 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
timing of all this various work, on the part of the driver and the
gunner, there is a good deal of skill requisite, and, of course, a
good deal of excitement. But the real sport, and the real skill,
are both on the part of the driver, whose duty it is to deliver
his 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, a 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,
VOL. i. 16

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 Islet —
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 cliaising 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-
ther 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 j oiliest, 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 sportsman's Paradise.

UPLAND SHOOTING.

209

AUTUMN COCK SHOOTING

j^UTUMN shooting,
which is par ex-
cellence the true
sport of the true
sportsman, can-
not be said to
have its begin-
ning on any
particular day,
or even in any
particular month of the season.

Its commencement is regulated by the return of the Wood-
cock, after its brief August migration ; and, the period of that
return being uncertain, and dependant on the state of the wea-
ther, and other influences, with which we are 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.
I 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 bird 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 Tegular country sportsman, who have the best op-
portunity of noting such peculiarities, 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 I
ever seen a Woodcock on open meadow in that season.

In Salem county, in New Jersey, this latter fact is very
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 other 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. 21]

and, with the sole exception that it is entirely useless to look
for him in coppices, or along springy woodsides, as I have rc-
co?nmended in wild weather in spring, his haunts and habits
are 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
another 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
observation, 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-
cent from the mountain-tops, never, 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-
sides, sloping to the sun, southerly or westward, and to choose
woods of young saplings, or sprouts, as they are commonly
called in this country, tall, wet maple groves, and second
growth of oak, adjacent to brook or meadow feeding grounds,
rather than the dense coppice, and that variety of brakes and in-
tervales, or glades, which he loves the best in July. This pecu-

212 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

liarity renders him a more agreeable object of pursuit at this
period of the year, the rather that lie 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,
thomy 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 affair, brake, meadow, and all, not exceeding three or
four acres.

I knew the place of old as a certain 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. _']:}

Being quite certain that these were new comers, and the
brake being a very pretty and easy place in which to gel shots,

and mark liinls, I heat: 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.

This is now very many years ago, but I noted the fact from
its singularity at the time; and I have since observed, that in
certain highly favored places, this maybe regularly looked for;
and I would never recommend a sportsman, shooting late in the
autumn, particularly after the nights have begun to be frosty, to
decline trying a likely piece of ground, a second, or even a
third or fourth time, because he has already swejDt it clear of
Woodcock. It does not, of course, follow of all ground whatso-
ever ; but of all that ground which is the most beloved by the
bird, it is unquestionably true that it will be filled, and refilled,
many times in succession.

This is certainly a curious fact, and one for which it is diffi-
cult to account, by any reasonable mode of explanation. The
succession of so many birds, is in itself singular, it not being at
all apparent where is the reservoir from which the current is
' supplied. It was not, in the case I have named, from other
woods in the neighborhood, of slightly inferior excellence, as
feeding ground, for these were not deserted ; and, if we suppose
that the fresh supplies came in consecutively from the north-
ward by long flights, how should they have been able to time
themselves so exactly, as to come on the very nights when the
haunt was vacant, and at their service ]

On the other hand, if we adopt the idea that the descent is
only from the neighboring mountain tops, why should these wait
patiently until the others were killed off to their hands, instead
of pouring down into the place in a body, and there remaining
until the supply of food, which renders it so favorite a haunt,
should be exhausted ?

Such, however, is invariably the case in such localities, and I
never but once in my life observed anything like a flock of these
birds. That once, in a very wet place, on the edge of a heavy

214 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

swamp, where a large spring, which never freezes, bursts out
and percolates through the vegetable soil for a distance of a
hundred yards, or a little more, before gathering itself into a
single channel, I saw at least a hundred birds rise within three
minutes. It was very late in the season, the 6th or 8th of No-
vember, and sharp frost had already set in, and it was so late
in the afternoon that it was almost dark. I was shooting with
a friend, who had a young dog which could not be controlled
from running in ; and all the birds were flushed at two rises,
each of us getting two double shots. The Woodcock settled
down all over the large swamp, but it was too dark to follow
them ; and the next morning, it having been an intensely hard
black frost at night, not a bird was to be found in the country.
Had we come upon that flight earlier in the day, and with old,
steady dogs, the sport might have been incalculable.

I have always believed, however, that to be an instance of
actual migration ; and I am well satisfied all those birds had
dropped in, from a long flight from the north, whence they had
been expelled by the severe cold, with no intention of stopping
longer than to recruit themselves by a single day's repose.
After that night no more birds wei'e seen in that part of the
country, until the breaking of the ensuing winter.

One other point appears to be worthy of remark, with regard
to the autumnal migration of Cock, on their way southward,
namely, that sometimes, particularly when the winter sets in
unusually early and severe on the sea-board, and south of the
mountains, the flight of Cock come down all nearly at once, and
in one direction, avoiding whole ranges of country, and abso-
lutely swarming in other regions. A few seasons since, when
the northern and river counties, so far down as Rockland, were
covered with snow, which lay two or three days, in the first
week of October, no more Woodcock were found that autumn
in that district, or in Eastern New Jersey, quite down to the
sea, while they literally abounded on the eastern side of the
Hudson, and were killed in profusion throughout Westchester,
and even within a few miles of New York city.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 215

The cause of this, I suppose to be explicable thus, — that there
is, in fact, always a two-fold migration of Woodcock in the
autumn, that of the birds bred in these districts, which, having
absented themselves during the moult, return immediately, that
over, to the vicinity of their resting-places, and remain through-
out the autumn, — and that of the birds bred very far north of
us, which tarry at the north so long as the weather will permit,
and then visit us for a few days, more or less, according to the
state of the country and the temperature, but never make any
protracted sojourn with us.

In such a case as that which I have mentioned, the home-bred
birds are probably driven southward at once by the temporary
local snow-storm, while the northern flights, not having been
forced to move, tarry till the last, and then hurry off, pitching
only for a single day to rest themselves, and resuming their
progress every night.

Woodcock and Snipe both, it is hardly necessary to observe,
are in a great measure nocturnal birds, and almost invariably
make all their long voyages, and usually even their casual trips
from one feeding ground to another, between sunset and sun-
rise. T have occasionally seen Snipe travelling high in the ah",
in small whisps, during the day time in dark foggy weather
with small rain falling : but I have never known Woodcock to
move their quarters, unless violently aroused, until it is almost
too dark to distinguish them on the winsr.

The weather, in which both these swift passengers love best
to roam, is dull, hazy, and sometimes even rainy, and that com-
monly on the breaking of a north-easterly storm. This is par-
ticularly the case with the Snipe, and in the spring. In fact, I
have never known them abundant on the meadows until after
two or three days cold heavy rain, and to there having been no
such storm this present year, I attribute, in a great measure,
the extreme scarcity of Snipe.

It is a little singular, however, that, while these birds prefer
thick and hazy weather, they almost always choose moonlight
nights, and fly most when the moon is near the full. When

216 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

the sportsman is so fortunate as to find himself favored with
that most delicious to the senses, and most lovely to the eye, of
all weather, which we know as Indian Summer, at the full
of the October moon, he may count himself almost certain
of finding- the coverts well stocked with Woodcock. I have
frequently acted on this indication myself, and, in spite of being
warned by letters from the country that Cock had not come on,
have set out from the city, relying on the combination of the
purple haze with the full October moon, veiled in soft silver for
the nonce, and have rarely been disappointed of good sport.

In all other respects, the pursuit of Woodcock, the mode of
hunting them, and the style of killing them, differ in nothing
now from' the methods to be used in summer. The birds are,
of course, far stronger on the wing, as they are now full grown,
and instead of dodging about in the bushes and dropping with-
in twenty yards of the muzzle of a gun just discharged, will
soar away over the tree tops, and sometimes fly half a mile at
a stretch.

The difficulty of killing them, is therefore increased, although
the absence of the green leaf affords a fairer view of them, and
the man who makes a large bag must depend more on snap
shots than on fair chances over steady points.

In this place it will not be improper to insert a slight notice
and description of the mode generally adopted for the killing of
Woodcock in Louisiana, Mississippi and the other Southwestern
States, by what is termed " Fire-hunting."

This practice is resorted to, in some degree, as a matter of
necessity, owing to the fact that, in these regions which are the
favorite winter home of the bird in question, he frequents
during the day only the most impracticable cane-brakes and
morasses, from which it is only by dint of the severest labor
that he can be dislodged.

Until very recently no other mode of shooting Woodcock
was practised at all in these states, as it was regarded as im-
possible to pursue them with any success during the day time
in their gloomy and difficult fastnesses. Of late years, however,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 217

as might have been expected, it has been demonstrated by
good sportsmen, that Cock can be killed over Setters — Spaniels
would doubtless be yet preferable — in those states as else-
where, and the correct, legitimate and sportsmanlike method of
hunting them with dogs is, of consequence, coming into vogue,
soon, I doubt not, entirely to supersede the " Fire-hunting"
system, which although it may be good fun enough, for once or
twice, can only be regarded as a species of poaching, or pot-
hunting ; palliated or perhaps in some sort legitimatized by
the necessities of the case.

Throughout this region, as I have said, during the day this
more than half nocturnal bird is not to be seen at all without the
confines of the dense and tangled brakes on the edges of the
deep bayous and morasses, never flying abroad into the open,
and contenting itself with nibbling the mud, and picking up a
little chance food in its lurking places.

No sooner is it dark, however, than out the Woodcocks come
by thousands from their fastnesses, and, pitching down on all
sides in the old fields and maize-stubbles, apply themselves to
nibbling and boring in the soft, rich loam for their succulent
worm-diet.

Hereupon the fire-hunt commences — with gun and game-bag,
powder-flask and shot-pouch, and all appliances and means
secundum artem, the sportsman sallies forth ; but no silky-haired,
high-strung, sagacious Setter, no satin-skinned, rat-tailed, obe-
dient Pointer follows his master's heel. In lieu of Don or
Sancho, an old, crafty, grizzle-pated, merry negro, comes forth,
equipped with the brazen vessel of a warming-pan, or the like
instrument, set erect on a pole of some ten or twelve feet in
length, filled with light wood, pine knots, or such like bright,
burning combustibles.

Arrived on the feeding ground, a light is applied ; the quick
fuel sends out a broad, ruddy glare ; and, as the bearer slowly
circumambulates the field, a circle of intense lustre is shed for
ten yards around him, rendering every object more clearly
visible than at noon-day. The shooter walks close to the fire-

218 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

bearer, on his right hand, and ever and anon as the circular
glare passes along over the surface of the ground, his eye
detects the Woodcock, crouching close to the earth, and gazing
with its full, fascinated eye upon the strange illumination.
The next instant up it springs, dizzy and confused and soaring
upward toward the light. It is seen for a second, and then is
lost in the surrounding darkness ; hut of that one quick second
the sportsman takes advantage; and by a snap shot cuts him
down, with a light charge ; never killing a bird at above ten
paces distant, and often bagging his hundred in a single even-
ing's work.

This mode of Cock-shocting, arises, as it is evident, ex neces-
sitate rei, and may for a while be sufficiently exciting. It must,
however, lack all that variety, which is the great charm of our
northern shooting ; variety, which arises from the working of
the emulous, obedient, and well-trained dogs, in observing
whose exquisite instinct, fine attitudes and beautiful docility,
me judice, lies half the pleasure of field sports ; and which,
together wi.h the lovely scenery, the brisk, breezy air, and the
exulting sense of personal independence, and personal power,
springing from these and from the glow of cheerful exercise,
renders them to active, energetic and enthusiastic minds the
first of pleasures, and almost a necessary relief from the dull
monotony of every-day existence.

This brings us to Quail shooting, and to what is the climax
of all our field sports, that mixed, wild, autumn shooting, in one
day of which, the laborious woodman may kill on one range,
Quail, Woodcock, Ruffed Grouse, Hare, Snipe, and some two
or three varieties of Wild Duck.

I have had many a good day's sport in many countries, but
above everything that I have ever seen, or expect to see again,
give me a day of rough and tumble autumn shooting, such as
it was ten years ago in Orange county, and such as it may per-
haps be again, for a short time, when the Erie railroad shall
first give us access to the southern tier of counties. Me judice,
there is nothing like it in the wild world.

UPLAND SHOOTING.

219

QUAIL SHOOTING.

HAVE already, under my list of Upland
Game, given a full description of this
lovely little bird from the pages of Audu-
bon and Wilson.

Both of these authors lean to the south-
ern fashion of calling this bird a Par-
tridge. Now the truth of the matter is
simply this, that the bird in question is
properly and accurately neither one nor the other, but a distinct
species, possessing no English name whatever. The ornitholo-
gical name of the Partridge is Perdix, of the Quail Coturnix, of
the American bird, distinct from either, Ortyx. The latter
name being the Greek word, as Coturnix is the Latin word,
meaning Quail. It is, of course, impossible to talk about kill-
ing Ortyxes, or more correctly Ortyges, we must therefoi*e,
perforce call these birds either Quail or Partridge.

Now as both the European Partridges are considerably more
than double the size of the American bird, as they are never in
any country migratory, and as they differ from the Ortyx in not
having the same woodland habits, in cry and in plumage ; while
in size, and in being a bird of passage, the European Quail
exactly resembles that of America ; resembling it in all other
respects far more closely than the Partridge proper — I canno
for a moment hesitate in saying that American Quail is the
correct and proper English name for the Ortyx Virginiana, and
I conceive that the naturalists who first distinguished him from
the Quail with which he was originally classed, sanction this

220 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

English 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 observe — for the benefit of our
northern sportsmen, many of whom I have heard positively
assert that the Quail is not migratory — that every where west
of the Delaware he is as distinctly a bird of migration as the
Woodcock, and the farther west the more palpably so. Why
he loses these habits with us of the Middle States I cannot
guess, nor has any naturalist so much as alluded to the fact,
which is nevertheless indisputable.

It will be seen at once, from the foregoing description, that
our American Quail is a most beautiful little bird; but his
beauties do not consist merely in his plumage, but in his gait,
his pretty pert movements, his great 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 cheerful noise that can be fancied, a short, quick,
happy cheeping, " and seems to be," to borrow the words of
the inimitable Audubon, I quote from memory alone, "the
happiest little creature in the universe."

UPLAND SHOOTING. 221

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 friendly
in his disposition as regards the general enemy and universal
tyrant, man.

In the winter season, when the ground is so deeply covered
with snow as to render it impossible for them to obtain their
customary food, the seeds namely of the various grasses, which
they love the most, or the grains which lie scattered in the stub-
bles, they come naturally into the vicinity of man's dwellings ;
and it is by no means an unusual sight to perceive them run-
ning about among the domestic fowls in the barn-yard, and
flying up, if suddenly disturbed, to perch under the rafters of
some barn 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 covering ; if, on the contrary,
the spring is very late and backward, his courtship is deferred
until April.

As soon as he has chosen to himself a mate, the happy pair
retreat to wide, open, 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 grassy 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
befoi'e 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.

Their 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 ascertain, the Quail almost invariably raises a
second, and sometimes, I believe, even a third brood in a single
season. Hence, if unmolested, they increase with extraordinary
rapidity, when the seasons are propitious. It is, however,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 223

equally certain that, under other circumstances, they suffer more
severely in this region of country, than any other bird of game ;
and that in unfavorable seasons they run great danger of being
altogether annihilated. The fear 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 no sustenance, save from the preca-
rious charity of man, famishes him outright — heavy drifts, espe-
cially when succeeded by a partial thaw, and a frost following
the thaw, stifles him, in whole bevies encased in icy prison-
houses.

It is the peculiar habit of this bird to lie still, squatted in con-
centric huddles, as they are technically called, composed of the
whole bevy, seated like the radii of a circle, with their tails in-
ward, so long as snow, sleet, or rain continues to fall. So soon
as it clears off, and the sun shines out, with a simultaneous
effort, probably at a preconcerted signal, they all spring up at
once with an impetus and rush, so powerful, as carries them
clear through a snow-drift many feet in depth ; unless it be
skinned over by a frozen crust, which is not to be penetrated by
their utmost efforts. In this latter case, where the storm has
been general over a large extent of country, the Quail are not
unfrequently so near to extinction, that but a bevy or two will
be seen for years, on ground where previously they have been
found in abundance ; and at such times, if they be not spared
and cherished, as they will be by all true sportsmen, they may
be destroyed entirely throughout a whole region.

This was the case especially, through all this section of the
country, in the tremendous winter of 1 835-' 36, 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 preserve them.

Another peril, which at times decimates the breed for a sea-
son, is a sudden and violent land-flood in June and July, which
drowns the young broods ; or a continuance of cold, showery,
VOL. I. 17

224 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

weather, in those and the preceding months, which addles the
eggs, 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-trainctl 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-fall ; and in such cases —
I know not if it be a fancy on my part — there has often seemed
to me to be an unusual degree of melancholy in their wailing
whistle.

Once this struck me especially. I had found a small bevy of
thirteen birds in an orchard, close to the house 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 right and left, flew
but a short distance, and dropped among some sumachs in the
corner of a lail fence. I could have shot him certainly enough,
but some undefined feeling induced me to call my dogs to heel,
and spare his little life ; yet afterward I almost regretted what
I certainly intended at the time to be mercy ; for day after day,
so long as I remained in the country, I heard his sad call, from
mom till dewy eve, ciying for his departed friends, and full
apparently of memory, which is, alas ! but too often another
name for sorrow.

It is a singular proof how strong is the passion for the chase,
and the love of pursuit, implanted by nature in the heart of
man, that however much, when not influenced by the direct
heat of sport, we deprecate the killing of these little birds, and
pity the individual sufferers, — the moment the dog points, and
the bevy springs, or the propitious morning promises good
sport, all the compunction is forgotten in the eagerness and
emulation which are natural to our race.

It is also worthy of remark, that in spite of his apparent
tameness at peculiar seasons, and his willingness to be half na-
turalized, the Quail has hitherto defied all attempts at perfect
domestication, and has, I believe, never been known to breed
in confinement, — this peculiarity going, perhaps, some way to
render him fair game.

Of all birds, in this or any other country, so far as I know

226 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 arid 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 SHOOTING. 227

This is, that under these circumstances, the birds will not rise
at all, until they are literally almost trodden upon. It was very
iong before I could bring myself to believe in the existence of
this singular power of suppression ; and very many times, after
having marked down a bevy to a yard in favorable ground, and
having failed to start them, I have left the place, concluding
that they had taken to the trees, or risen again unseen by me,
when I am satisfied, had I waited half an hour before proceed-
ing to beat for them, I might have had good sport. I will here
observe, that although Quail do, beyond doubt, occasionally
take the tree, in certain localities, and in some kinds of weather,
still so far as my experience goes, they do so rarely when pur-
sued, and then rather in consequence of some particular habit
of a single bevy, than of any natural instinct of the bird.

Once again — and I have done with the difficulties of finding —
particular bevies, endowed with that singular craft, 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 baffling 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 corner 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

mouth of an old. cellar, over which a cottage had stood in past
days, up whirled a bevy of Quail, and away over the very same
tree-top, but now in the opposite direction.

On examining the cellar, the inside of which was filled with
briai's 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, where we originally found them. Some time had
elapsed, and they had run together into a single knot, rose
again very wild, and flew directly back to the old hiding-place.

Thither we followed 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 place, 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 narrowness of the mouth, a dog might have gone
within a yard of it without scenting them ; and I have no doubt
that mine had been more than once 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 difficult to kill when found, than to
find in the first instance. When first flushed the bevy rise with
such a whirring and tumultuous noise that they are very apt to
flutter the nerves 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 1
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 very 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
from 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

remai'kable if, with a gun that scatters its charge, even a
good shot miss this bird even at a short range ; and that at
thirty or forty paces the very best guns, aimed with perfect
precision, fail frequently of killing clean.

The Quail is a very brave bird, moreover. He will carry
off a great quantity of shot, if not lodged in a vital part, and
will frequency, even when mortally wounded, particularly if
shot through the brain or heart, and going before the wind, fly
till life leaves him in mid air, and even after that will be pro-
pelled by the rapidity of his previous motion and the buoyancy
of his still extended wings, for many yards farther in a descend-
ing line.

A singular instance of this occurred to myself while shooting
in the Highlands of the Hudson, neai'ly opposite to West
Point, with two friends, in November, 1839. 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.

T was in the lowest of three gulleys with a brace of dogs, and
perhaps 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
cartridge, which are propelled full one-third farther and more
strongly than loose shot — and to conclude, I was perfectly cool,
and making 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 merriment, 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 ;he 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 reprieved the two birds I had shot at, perfectly
dead, but both warm, and both bleed ng from the bill.

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 SHOOTJNG. 233

on the pleasant and exciting pursuit of this beautiful little bird.

From the greater difficulty of finding and killing Quail, it
follows of course that a greater combination of qualities in the
dog with which we hunt them is required.

For Snipe or Woodcock shooting, the latter especially,
which is pursued in veiy 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 qualities the sportsman can have no
success when he has attained the first object of his morning's
work, the 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 require 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 sterns
down, quartering 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 into covert they shall cross and re-cross their
ground 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
every 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 observance
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 SHOOTING. 235

be wise, he will discard the suspected linen, and turn in be-
tween the blankets.

On getting up in the morning, all ablutions duly performed,
it will be necessary to provide for the needful operation of
breaking fast ; and this must neither be neglected, for 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, therefore, is to take with me a
cold ham, or a cold hunters' round, and to have the 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, particulai'ly if they
are bushy ; Quail do not affect the middle even of the stubbles
on which they feed.

If your dogs trail a running bevy, never run or hurry them.
They are, if you do so, nearly sure to flush them wild. Be, on
the contrary, very steady yourself, and cry " Steady ! steady !
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 wide 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 FRANK 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 bevies 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 bevy,
by the time he has done with it, the birds will have crept away
into their hiding-places, and he may hunt the wood-skirts, and
brush-holes, all day along, without finding another, even where
they abound, unless he blunder upon one by chance.

During the heat of the day, if one have not 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 run and feed, and in this part of the day they will fre-
quently be met running along the grassy margins of streams
which flow through pasture-fields, whither they resort to drink,
or at least to crop the wet herbage.

So good is the chance of sport at this time, that I would urge
it strongly on the sportsman who has failed of finding his bevies
on the feeding ground in the morning — if he know that there is
a fair show of birds in the district — not to persist in wearing out
himself and his dogs, by fruitless toil in the heat of noon, but
rather to await the cool afternoon, when he will very often make
up for lost time, and make a heavy bag when circumstances
have looked least auspiciously.

I have now set my sportsman 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 born ; but most persons,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 237

with good eyesight, and steady nerves, 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 little, if anything. I have seen men shoot
excellently, who closed one eye to take aim — excellently who
shot with both open, — never, however, I must admit, decently,
who shut both — not, by the way, a very 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 observed, — no man can
shoot well in covert, or at snap shots, who follows his bird with
his gun, or dwells on his aim — the first sight is always the best ;
and it is deliberate promptitude 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 quick,
crack sliot.

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 shooting, as the most difficult of all shooting, and re-
quiring the greatest natural qualifications, and most perfect
training in the dog, demands also the greatest science in the
person who hunts the dog.

The great desiderata here are, first, to know precisely what
a dog ought to do, — and, second, to make him do it.

In this country, far more sportsmen fail in the first — in Eng-
land more in the second particulai'.

It were scarce too much to say, that four sportsmen, in their
own opinion, here, out of five, know so little what are the re-
quisite performances and capabilities of a dog, that within
twelve months after buying a perfectly well-broke dog, they
permit him to lose all he has ever known, merely from failing to
exercise his abilities, and punish his eccentricities.

238 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

As in all other tuition, reward a:?d punishment must both be
brought into play ; but it is a great thing to remember that,
while a dog should never 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 Pointei1, is broke to lie down im-
mediately to charge, on the firing of a shot, and to turn 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 hoarse as
a waterman on a hackney-coach stand, by bellowing out orders,
which your dog, nine times out of ten, cannot hear, being to
windward of you.

A shrill ivory whistle should always be hung from the button-
hole of the jacket, and a heavy dog- whip invariably earned in
the pocket ; but, although neither of these, in their way highly
useful implements, should be suffered to enjoy a sinecure, it is
almost unnecessary to observe that of the last, even more than

UPLAND SHOOTING. 239

of the first, the real utility will be greatly diminished by too
frequent application.

I shall have farther occasion to speak of the management of
dogs, and indeed of the habits and mode of shooting Quail like-
wise, under the head of " General Autumn Shooting," which
will follow the few remarks I shall proceed to make on Pin-
nated and Ruffed G-i'ouse shooting, as practised apart from the
pursuit of other game.

vol. i. 18

240

FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS.

RUFFED GROUSE SHOOTING.

VULGO, PARTRIDGE SHOOTING.

i' 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
Grouse, or as it is there termed, Partridge.

I went on the representation of a friend, who while Cock-
shooting on that ground, early in the autumn, before the leaves
were down, had moved an immense number of these birdst
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, contrary
to my opinion, to go out of my way to beat for Ruffed Grouse,
or to devote a day to their especial pursuit, but I never in any
one case have been successful.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 241

The Ruffed Grouse, after the broods have separated and left
the hens, are the wildest and most wary birds I have ever pur-
sued, when the 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 for the single birds, or the small
companies into which they sometimes form themselves, to
wander on the foot, without taking wing at all, ten or twelve
miles, at a stretch, over rough hills and through deep wood-
lands. Add to this, that their 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 soil
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 tried to
secure one when wing-tipped or slightly wounded, without the
aid of dog, knows what pace that is — the moment the sports-
man enters the wood; and after keeping the dogs trailing and
roading on their scent for a mile or two, either flap up unper-
ceived into a tree, or take 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,

242 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

finding 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 hut 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 wins:.

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, naivow 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 width of the
alder coppice with my dogs. Suddenly both the Setters came
to a dead point at a small patch of thick briars and brambles
close to the meadow fence, and, on my walking up to them,
finding that nothing moved, I took it for granted that it was a
Hare, and called out to my friend to look out, as I would beat
it out to him. On kicking the briars, however, to my great
surprise a very fine Ruffed Grouse, a cock bird, rose within
ten feet of me, and flew directly across me toward the hill.
Unfortunately, my friend fired at the bird across me, contrary
to all rules 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 SHOOTING. 243

they lay, 1 made some observation to my companion about his
rashness in firing ; when three more birds whirred out of the
same bush in quick succession, and of course got away unshot
at, all our barrels being empty. After I had loaded, yet an
eighth 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 thicket less than thirty feet in circumference. We ought
certainly to have got one more bird, at least ; and had we been
as silent as we 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 never saw a more evident proof of the great propriety, and
great gain, of attending strictly to the most minute rules of
sportsmanship 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
him among those gentry of the street, who think no hunting but
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
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,
the Prairie Hen, or the Grouse of the British Isles. Hence, I
consider the day fixed by our legislature for the end of close
time, as too late in regard to the Ruffed Grouse.

The constantly repeated tale, that the Ruffed Grouse when it
alights in trees in companies, which it occasionally will do, in
the spring, when eating the young buds, of which it is extremely

244 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

fond, will allow the whole flock to be shot down, one by one,
without stirring, 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 storms he has sometimes killed
three or four. This is credible enough ; 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
Eastern States, and especially in Maine, the woods are literally
full of them ; yet such are their peculiarities of habit, that it is
useless to attempt to have sport with them. A man, stealing
along the old 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, in that region of coun-
try ; but that is not sport for sportsmen !

UPLAND SHOOTING. 245

The Ruffed 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 obsei"ver to be surely correct, to be uttered merely at
moments of alarm and sudden trepidation, the bird when not
forced to take wing, rising noiselessly — and gets under way
with extreme rapidity. 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 Ruffed 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 hard
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 the bird
affords a fair mark, and will not carry off 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 FORESTER'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
here, I do not doubt that it would there afford sport equal to any
English bird, except the Red Grouse. Its flesh is delicious, if
dressed properly. It will bear to be kept hanging, in the
autumn, two or three weeks with manifest advantage ; it should
be roasted quickly, before an extremely hot fire ; and it should
be exposed at once to the full heat, at a short distance, so as to
sear the pores of the skin, and prevent the exudation of the
juices ; after a few minutes it may be withdrawn from the focus
of heat, until it shall be cooked through. It should be eaten,
as should the Grouse and Quail, with bread sauce and fried
crumbs, — any sort of jelly, or sweet condiment, with any galli-
naceous fowl, or any meat that is not immoderately fat and lus-
cious, is an abomination. As a variety, either this bird, or the
Quail, is delicious 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 soupcon 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 pig.

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
mobs, — Heaven forbid that I should intend a comparison, in
thus uniting them ! but it is a fact that they both invariably

UPLAND SHOOTING. 247

prefer the bosom, as I believe it is the fashion of these modest
days to term the white meat.

For the benefit of what the French are pleased to call amphi-
tryons, the excellent men who are rich enough to give good
dinners, and of the happy men who are allowed to eat them,
I will add, that red wine is the thing with game of all kinds.
The right thing of all is Chambertin, or clos de Vougeot ! but,
in default of these, a sound Lqfitte or Latour claret is excel-
lently well in place. Champagne is not the thing in the least;
and, for those who aspire to feed themselves or their friends
creditably, without aiming at the expense of the costly French
red wines, allow me to suggest, that a glass of good gold sherry
is perfectly allowable with game. Except at a ball supper, no
one, except counter-jumpers, ever think of champagne, beyond
one tumbler with the roti.

The next thing to killing your game handsomely, after find-
ing it gnostically, is undoubtedly knowing how to set it on the
table, for the benefit of your friends, in perfection, and with the
proper accessories ; and a hint or two on this subject may be
pardoned, even in a work on field sports, — especially where
such abominations are practiced, as eating Snipe and Woodcock
high, drawing the trail, and broiling them ; and eating currant,
or plum jelly, with roast Grouse ; or cranberries with venison.

Nothing in my eyes is more contemptible, than the man who
cannot rough it upon occasion, — who cannot dine heartily, and
with a relish, on a bit of cold salt pork, and a crust of bread,
when he can get nothing better ; but nothing is more stupidly,
or hopelessly savage, than the man who does not care what he
eats.

In the code of game-cookery, the gridiron is an article of the
kitchen prohibited, unless in the case of a venison steak, a Bear
chop, or a Wild Duck. To "broil a Quail, or a Grouse, much
more a Snipe, or a Woodcock, ought to be made — like frying a
beefsteak — death without benefit of clergy.

248

FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

GROUSE SHOOTING

bird,

HIS noble sport I have never myseL
had an opportunity of enjoying, though
I still live in the hope of finding myself
'onsome fine autumnal morning, in the
Western Prairies, with two or three
brace of good dogs, a staunch compan-
ion, and all appurtenances suitable for
a month's sport.

They are in all respects the noblest
which is to be shot over Pointers in the United States ; and

the vast numbers in which they are still found in their own Prai-
rie-land, the magnificent range of country which is spread out be-
fore the eye of the sportsman, the openness of the shooting, and
the opportunity of observing all the motions of the dogs, must
render this sport, like the Red Grouse shooting in Great Britain,
the Queen of American field sports.

In the state of New Jersey a few packs of these fine birds still
breed annually among the sandy pine barrens along the southern
shore ; the best of these shooting grounds are now exclusively oc-
cupied by three or four gentlemen resident in the vicinity of Bur-
lington, Bordentown, and Trenton, who either rent or have pur-
chased them for the purpose of sporting thereon, and on the pre-
tence of wishing to preserve them. I say the pretence, for I
grieve to say that no feeling of chivalrous sportsmanship deter
these gentlemen, some of whom are excellent shots, from butch-
ering these noble birds even in the month of July, when they
are utterly unfit for killing ; and for this outrage on sportsman-
ship and humanity, there is the less palliation — excuse or justifi-
cation, there never can be any — in that occupying the grounds ex-
clusively, they are safe from the apprehension of being anticipa-
ted by poachers or pot-hunters. Why, then, they should them-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 249

selves poach and pot-hunt, is absolutely inexplicable and incon-
ceivable. I trust that this notice, from which I have purposely
withheld the names of the offenders, in order to avoid personali-
ty, will deter them from the like criminality in future against the
letter and spirit of the laws, which should rule all true sportsmen.

In Martha's 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 tbem, 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 formerly abounded,
as in the Eastern States, they have become extinct ; and, in truth,
unless the sportsman is prepared 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 Country,
there is no real difficulty, and no great 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 soon 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 regret 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 marvel 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 hirds early in Septem-
ber, or even so soon as late in August, who have whooped, and
strutted, and trumpeted the live-long spring and summer, the
undisturbed possessors of the prairies, are now leading about
their broods, some three-quarter parts grown, and they are at no
time in better condition for broiling, the most delicate spring
chickens yielding to them in 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 chicken, must have about as much idea of the qualities of
game on the table, as he who thinks they are in perfection for
shooting, when they are too weak to rise on the wing. I should
think their conduct would be more satisfactory yet, to such a
gunner, before they could fly at all.

Seriously speaking, from all the really good sportsmen with
whom I have spoken of Grouse shooting, I learn that the defect
in the sport consists in the extraordinary tameness of the bird,
and the infinite facility of knocking it down at the commence-
ment of the season, — the killing, in fact, partaking almost the
character of butchery.

To quote once more from the writer above cited : — " Let the
gnostics preach about its being not ' sportsmanlike, and unhand-
some, to knock down more birds than you can consume.' I'll
make out, when I can, my twenty brace notwithstanding ; and
I have never seen Grouse yet at such a discount, at this season
of the year, but what all that could be killed could be consumed ;
and, if I haply should a little overstock the market, there is no
fear of thinning off the tribe, for their name is legion, and the

UPLAND SHOOTING. 25 I

farmers will not grieve when they reflect that there will he, at
any rate, by so much the fewer depredators on their coi-n-fields
next autumn and winter, when it may truly be said, they are
fruges consumere nati. Moreover, we must make the most of
them now, for in six weeks they will change their character and
habits so enth-ely, that by no ingenuity can we possibly get near
enough for a shot; and the devils, though they now tumble
over on the reception of two or three No. 8 shot, will then carry
off as much lead as a Galena steamboat. It is astonishing how
difficult the full-grown birds are to kill, — I have known them,
when riddled with No. 4 shot, to fly entirely out of sight and
leave you bending forward your neck, in hopes that as you have
knocked off feathers enough, as it would seem, to fill a bolster,
that straight and rapid flight must soon falter ; but no, on goes
the bird in a ' bee line,' till his figure melts into thin air," &c.

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
willingly, because to such selfish sophistry, on the part of sports-
men, more than half the difficulty of pi'eserving 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 thi-ee score, or hundreds,
more or less, will not be missed, will abstain from doing like-
wise 1 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. h

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 T 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 impossible 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 September, 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 Ruffed 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 for 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, ot
flushing his birds.

UPLAND SIIOOTIiNG. 253

I should presume that, for Grouse shooting in general, the
Pointer would he 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 preferred, 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 ground, falling flat on his belly when he comes on
the scent of his game even at full speed, and flattening himself
the nearer to the earth, the nearer he is to his game, while the
Pointer invariably stands erect to 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 fhank forester's field sports.

habit in the races ; and it is worthy of remark that the 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 sire, over both which I shot in Eng-
land, point 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 remarked, that these birds are
rarely if ever to be found among open groves and tall timber,
such as are peculiarly loved by the Ruffed Grouse ; they fre-
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 run forward swiftly as soon as
they strike the ground, and not ^infrequently press themselves
into thick covert, where they squat, and are compelled to lie
hard by the difficulty which they experience in taking wing,
from the opposition of the dense foliage.

They are a shy bird in covert; and are of course much
wilder to the Eastward, where they are incessantly persecuted,
than in the Western Country.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 255

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. 8 early in the season, and later No. 5, are the best
sizes of shot. After that, I should prefer red Ely's cartridges,
of No. 5 shot, which I will be bound to say will fetch them
from a good twelve or fourteen guage gun of proper weight,
held by a quick hand, and levelled by a true eye, at any period
of the season.

Mr. Audubon observes, contrary to the remarks cited above
from Wilson and Dr. Mitchill, that the Grouse drinks when in
a state of nature, like the common fowl, and farther, that it is
exceedingly susceptible of domestication, 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 moi'e 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 Pinnated Grouse,
Tetrao Cupido, of the ornithologist, and emphatically 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

VOL. i. 19

256 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

Scotia and New Brunswick, and if anywhere he exists in suffici-
ent numbers to render the pursuit of him exciting as a sport, 1
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 flavor-
ed 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.

Thus far, with some few exceptions, I had written in my first
edition of this work — these exceptions are the correction of two
or three positive and palpable errors in relation to the growth,
size, and seasons of this admirable bird. I am still myself of
opinion, that in the main the spirit and letter of what is above set
down will be found correct ; but having had the good fortune to
receive a very interesting original communication from a gentle-
man of distinction and zealous sportsmanship in the South- West, I
hasten, with sincere acknowledgments of his kindness, to insert
his letter entire, certain that it will be r^ad by all sportsmen
with pleasure and profit, and that its statements and opinions may
be received with perfect reliance on their correctness and fidelity.

I have only to add that the handsome present of game, to
which reference is made below, arrived in perfect condition, and
were dealt with in perfect accordance with the desire of the
obliging donor. I cannot, however, coincide with his views, as T
still think — though I admit that a broiled Grouse is good enough
— that it is much inferior to one roasted before a very brisk coal
or wood fire — I do not mean baked in an oven, which is very
often called roasting — and served, slightly underdone, with bread
sauce. All jelly or sweet sauce with Grouse are an abomination.

I have not yet had the good fortune of being able to comply
with my friend's kind invitation to participate individually in the
noble sport of the prairies, though I earnestly hope to do so ere
many autumns have elapsed ; nor had I the pleasure to see his

UPLAND SHOOTING. 257

friend, Mr. M., although I should have rejoiced to see and con-
fer with him on the subject of the sports of the South-West, of
which I have seen too little, while 1 desire so greatly personally
to participate in them. I may also add that I have learned from
good sportsmen of the West, that the objection against the use
of pointers, lies in the inability of their thin-skinned legs and bare-
soled feet to endure the wear and tear of the prairie grass.

St. Louis, Mo., January 29th, 1849.

Sir : — Not only are an author's works the property of the pub-
lic, but his readers become in some degree his acquaintances.
He addresses his readers familiarly, sometimes almost affection-
ately, especially when, as in your case, the subject is such as to
establish a kind of free-masonry between him and all true lovers
of the dog and gun.

Having read both your original works and your translations,
I feel as if I had some right to address you without the formality
of an introduction. I wish to thank you for the additions you
have made to our knowledge in sporting matters, and to say how
heartily I, in common with all who wish to perpetuate the manly
and healthful sports of the field, concur with you in opinion of
the desirableness of some measure of legislation which may arrest
the rapid destruction of the noble birds which yet adorn our
prairies and forests, and which will render it penal — it ought to
be infamous — to kill game either in the breeding season or before
the young birds have acquired full strength of wing.

I have been particularly struck with the article on Grouse shoot-
ing, in vol. 1, and seq., p. 248, of your ',' Field Sports." With the
principles which actuate you I entirely concur. But, as I con-
ceive, you are slightly inaccurate in several particulars of the
natural history of the Pinnated Grouse : and this has led you into
error — as I think — in fixing the time — middle of October — when
Grouse shooting ought to begin.

Secondly, I think you are gastronomically wrong when you
speak of the only mode in which the Grouse, when legitimately
killed, should be cooked for the rational epicure. In my opinion

258 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

you have not indicated the best mode of preparing him for the
table; of which more will be said presently. I will state the
reasons for my dissent from your views ; and you must bear with
me if I am tedious.

You say, vol. 1, p. 249, " About the first of August the young
are about equal in size to the Quail," &c.

I speak for the West only in what follows. There, may be a
difference in the habits of the birds here and in the Atlantic
States ; I am inclined to think there is. I am of opinion that
the months of April and May are warmer, and September and
October are colder in Missouri and Illinois than in Maryland.
My professional engagements — I am a lawyer — prevent my giving
to the habits of the Grouse the study to which my tastes incline
me. I cannot say, with accuracy, at what time their nests are
finished, or their broods hatched. But the young birds are much
larger than Quail on the first of July ; and in this condition,
scarcely able to flutter out of the grass, they are, to the disgrace
of all participants in or encouragers of the atrocity, killed in
great numbers, sold dearly, and eaten greedily. At this time the
flesh is white, tender, and tasteless.

J do not desire you to hold your hand from smiting " Tom
Trigor," and all who are like unto him, according to their de-
serts. But if he speaks of the Grouse in the States of Illinois
and Missouri, he is as far wrong in his attempts to give their natu-
ral history as he is wanting in every feeling of the sportsman, in
the article which you quote from him. My own experience is op-
posed to everything he says on the subject of Grouse shooting,
as it exists in this neighborhood. I have shot Grouse in the
first week of August, — this was before I knew better, and I will
never do it again, — in the middle of that month, at the close of
it, in all of September, in October, and November. I oondemn, as
decidedly as any one, the shooting of any bird of game before it
is strong on the wing. I consider the first of August too early for
Grouse shooting, yet I can assure you there is good sport by the
middle of that month. The birds are of full size, full fledged,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 259

strong on the wing, and hereabouts, at least, wild enough at times
during that month to task the best gun that ever was fired. The
sport is best, however, in September and October. During these
months the killing heat of the summer weather, which sometimes
proves fatal to men, and frequently to dogs, and horses on the
prairie, is moderated ; the birds acquire an increase of strength,
but not of size, and get under way in a shorter time after rising
than during the summer. They do not lie so well before the
dog, but the scent of the Grouse seems so strong, that most
pointers stand at the distance of from ten to twenty yards from
them, unless in very warm weather : and it is certainly much
more satisfactory to bag a wild, wary bird than to secure a tame
victim. After the cold weather we sometimes have on the prai-
ries early in September, the Grouse will sometimes rise for days
together entirely out of range. But in those days, either of Sep-
tember or October, when the morning is chill and frosty, and the
middle of the day calm and warm, the best Grouse shooting of
the whole year may be had. If they are driven from the corn
and stubble fields at this time, just as they have completed their
morning feed, marked down in the open prairie, and let alone for
an hour or two, the sport is really magnificent. It is not uncom-
mon at such times, to find them scattered over a space ranging
from 20 to 60 acres. Not more than two or three will be found
so near together as to be flushed at the same time, and very often
they are pointed singly. They rise, to be sure, with a strong
pinion, and get under way in an instant, but still they cannot be
termed hard to kill, I think. I never shoot smaller shot at
Grouse than No. 6, and after the tenth of September I shoot
No. 5. When No. 8 or No. 7 will stop them, they are too
young to bo shot at all. The instances are comparatively few of
their flying off with their death wound, whereas nothing is more
common than for the Quail to do this. There is little occasion
for shooting the birds at a greater distance than forty yards, and
the bulk of the shots are at birds within thirty yards, during the
month of September. In October it is sometimes otherwise, but

260 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

the wildness of the bird at this time is greatly exaggerated. If
men will go into the fields, rating their dogs loudly, and talking
and laughing with each other, the birds will be wild of course.
But throughout the three fall months, except on some few days,
the Grouse are not too wild to be hunted with the dog in suitable
weather.

There are some exceptions, however, and 1 have even known
them to occur in August. After the 15th of that month it is
difficult to distinguish the young birds from the old by their
weight, or even their plumage ; and it certainly is almost impos-
sible to distinguish any but the most backward broods on the
wing. The difference between the general size of the birds and
that of a backward brood is very appreciable. It is a difference,
not of one or two weeks, but of more than a month. No sports-
man is excusable who does not spare such a feeble prey. I was
in the field on the 14th and 15th of last August, about 30
miles from St. Louis; and on the evenings of both^days, and the
morning of one of them, we were disappointed of our expected
sport by reason of the wildness of the birds, although the weather
was warm and cloudy. None of the birds we killed were too
young — that is, we killed none which, either flying, or lying at
our feet, or in our hands, could be distinguished from the old
birds without a reference to marks, which would be as obvious in
September or October as they then were. We used No. 5 shot,
and made many shots outside of forty yards.

The number of these birds brought to St. Louis and consumed
annually is almost incredible. From the month of October to
the end of February thousands are brought to St. Louis every
week. Many find their way to New Orleans, Louisville, and
Cincinnati. At the present rate of destruction they cannot last
long ; and such is the antipathy to laws for the preserving of
game, that I almost despair of any legislation in their favor.
There is one ground of hope, and that is not very assured. It
arises from the importance of this bird to the farmer. Within
late years the numbers and depredations of grasshoppers in the

UPLAND SHOOTING. 261

prairie farms have greatly increased. It is necessary to see the
clouds of this insect which sometimes infest our fields, to realize
the stories that are told us of the ravages of the locust in other
lands. Now the increase of the numbers of the grasshopper has
been found to keep pace with the destruction of the Prairie Hen
or Grouse ; and, it may be, that some step maybe taken by the
Legislature of Illinois, prohibiting the killing of these birds by
a law which would equally benefit the farmer and tend to pre-
serve one of our noblest game birds.

In July, the flesh of the Grouse is white, tender, and insipid.
When the bird has attained his full size, his flesh is dark all over
the body. I have heard some persons — of the class you mention
as preferring the breast to the thighs and back bone of the ruf-
fled Grouse — insist that the bird was better when in its half-grown
state than at any later period. I am decidedly of opinion,
that until the Grouse arrives at its full size, its flavor is not per-
fect, and that the bird is finer and fatter, communibus annis, in
January, than any other month. I have been told by two of the
best and keenest sportsmen of my acquaintance, that in the prai-
ries remote not only from the cities, but farms, where the chief
food of the Grouse consists of grasshoppers, prairie grass and
grass seeds, the flesh has a peculiar and very fine flavor. This
may be so, but I have never had any opportunity of testing it.

I now proceed to my second point. I am unalterably of opin-
ion that you are wrong about the mode of cooking the Grouse. I
have fairly tried all your recipes, with a wisb to be convinced of
their excellence, and I am free to say that roast Grouse with
bread sauce is not unsavory. But it hides its diminished head
before Grouse properly broiled, served up very hot, and eaten
from hot plates. I fear you are rather bigoted on this subject.
Mucb theorising has hardened your heart. With the purpose of
inducing you to review your — hasty — opinions on this vital point,
and correct the errors of speculation by the lessons of experi-
mental philosophy, I take the liberty of sending you six brace of
Grouse, the freshest and finest I could select on this occasion. I

262 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

have caused them to be packed in a basket, -which is the best
means I am aware of — except hanging them outside of the vehicle
which carries them, and that is unsafe — of preserving them from
becoming high. I hope they will reach you safely and in good
order.. Have one of these birds broiled quickly, rather under-
done, as a canvass-back duck should be roasted ; let it- be pep-
pered and salted to your taste, and as it is removed from the
gridiron to the hot clish, let it be just touched with a little butter.
Eschew all sweet sauces — jelly, &c, and eat it with nothing but
good bread, 48 hours out of the oven. Should this experiment
not please you, try another one of the birds on the gridiron ; but
if that too is a failure in your estimation, e'en have the rest
cooked selon votre — mauvais ? — gout.

I conclude this very long letter with the expression of a hope
that you will be induced to try for yourself what Grouse shooting
on our prairies is good for. The journey is nothing. Any one
who has the time can enjoy it pleasantly here if he is fond of field
sports. St. Louis is the best headquarters for a sportsman in the
whole country, I verily believe. You will find here a cordial
welcome, and I should be very much pleased to receive you as
my guest. My professional engagements are so confining that I
can but seldom enjoy the pleasure of shooting ; for our courts
are in constant session during the whole of the hunting season,
after the 3d Monday of September ; but before that time I am
comparatively at liberty, and there are others here, of greater
leisure to indulge in field sports, but not more keen in their pur-
suit, who will rejoice to contribute to render pleasant the visit to
the West of a sportsman whom every other one in America
knows by reputation at least.

I am, sir, very respectfully,

Your obedient servant,

T T G-****

Henry William Herbert, Esq., at the Cedars, New Jersey.

UPLAND SHOOTING.

2G3

AUTUMN SHOOTING.

It is brilliant Autumn time, the most brilliant time of all,
When the gorgeous woods are gleaming ere tbe 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 tlie 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 Quail 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;

=UCH- is the season of the sports-
i man's adoration ; to him, the lover
of boon nature in her loveliest
mood, these days are not, as Mr.
Bryant in his beautiful poem has
! described them, to him at least,
the melancholy days," " the sad-
Idest 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

264 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

promise of spring and the fullness of summer are both inferior
to the serene and calm decline of the woodland year. It leads
to death indeed; but it seems to me rather to resemble the
ti'anquil 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 spring-tide of soft and dewy England, with its May
smilej and its April tears 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 temple 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 1 Instead of pausing longer thus, or solidly
and solemnly discussing the theory of sporting matters, we will
at once walk into the practice.

We will suppose the time of the year such as our poor ballad-
monger above quoted has, perhaps, labored to depict, — the time

UPLAND SHOOTING. 265

of the morning, not the peep of day, but eight, or by'r lady !
nine of the Shrewsbury clock, when the autumnal sun has
lifted his broad, jovial, ruddy face, from his dewy pillow, and
raised it, looming large and blood-red through the thin haze,
above the mountain's brow. There has been a touch of frost
during the night, and its silver fretwork is still white over the
deep after-grass, and yet unaltered fern leaves. The air is clear
and brisk, yet balmy, and its every breath seems to exhilarate
the mind, as if it were champagne inspired by the nostrils.

The scene is a broad and gentle valley, bordered 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
everlasting 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
harmonious 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 morning, 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 Agilis and Peritus. The
former youthful, and somewhat rash, yet neither altogether ver-

266 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 pouchj 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 which 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?"

" 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 ! vou have not shot before in autumn in America. For

UPLAND SHOOTING. 2G7

this very reason it is the prettiest and most exciting sport in the
world ; that you can never even form a conjecture what is going
to get up before you, until you see it on the wing. Now, my
good friend Rusticus, will you take yourself and the Spaniels
to the tall oak tree on the brow of the hill yonder, and do your
best 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 dogs. Now, hold up, lads ! look
sharp, Agilis, they are drawing already. There has been a
bevy running 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 V

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 head 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 ?"

" 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, Peritus, after all 1"

" 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 1"

" Very. But what did you do 1 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 V

268 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

" No. I could not, with certainty. But I think they dropped
in that bog-meadow, near yon pine ti'ee."

" No, Agilis, 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 f dlow them at once. We must find seve-
ral other bevies, arid 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 roading another bevy. Look forward
beyond the crag ther&, by the cedars."

But Peritus was in error ; it was not another bevy, but a
Ruffed Grouse, which rose a moment afterward with a loud
whirring, 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."

UPLAND SHOOTING. 269

" Shall we go after this bevy ?"

" Not yet, 1 had rather wait till they begin to run, we may
very likely miss them otherwise."

On they went, therefore, and perfectly right were they to go
on ; for Peritus' 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 some short time after alighting,
when it is alarmed, so that the best dogs in the world shall fail
to find it. This may be an 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 be forced 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 seveD
more of the same bevy some fifty or sixty yards farther, into
long grass and rushes, 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 recrossing it, and myself kicking and trampling the bushes,
but in vain.

270 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 alter 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 error.

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 during 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 known 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 scent
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

UPLAND SHOOTING. 271

the sherry which Peritus had recommended as the best form
of luncheon.

" I have no doubt you are perfectly right about this, Peritus,"
said his friend. " Indeed, the practice has proved the principle,
for we have got forty-five or forty-six Quail between us, out of
those first four bevies, besides thirty Cock. It is glorious sport,
indeed."

" Not very bad, certainly, Agilis ; and you have shot well
too, which inclines you to think of the sport, perhaps, with more
than ordinary complacency. But 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 been 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
of them likewise, when we have finished these cigars.

" Aye ! I observe 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 !"
vol. I. 20

272 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

" Aye ! indeed, but let us on. My cigar is finished. Hush !
hush ! What are those ?"

" 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 are after the acorns. Keep the dogs close, good Rusticus ;
now, Agilis, 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 wild 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 Ruffed Grouse, succeeded
rapidly by the loud ringing gunshots, gave note of glorious
sport until sundown, when the increasing darkness put a stop
to the joyous 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

CJPLAND SHOOTING. 273

was twelve years since within fifty miles off New- York, such is
in the interior of the southern tier of counties of that State, and
such is in hundreds and hundreds of places in the West, the
autumn shooting of America.

And that, mine English readers, without a game-keeper or a
preserve in all the length 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 — above all — so little are they regarded. But this
alas ! will soon, if not amended, abolish altogether the Field
Sports of America.

P. S. The above note, when published, was subsequently discovered
to be premature, and, as concerns Rockland County, is still unfortunately
incorrect. With regard to Orange County, it exists now as above stated,
having been passed by the Supervisors of that County, to whom the de-
partment of Game Laws has recently been entrusted by an act of the
State Legislature.
March, 1851.

274

FRANK FORESTER t» FIELD SPORTS.

RAIL; AND RAIL SHOOTING.

HIS singular and delicious little bird
is so peculiar in its character and
habits, although of an order which
affords several species, of our most
esteemed game, viz.: Grallatores, and
the mode of pursuing and shooting it
is so distinct from any other kinds of
sport, that I have judged it best to
keep it under a head entirely separate from other field sports,
with no one of which, in truth, has it the smallest connexion or
alliance.

" Rallus Carolinus — Ortygo?netra Carolinus — the Carolina Rail —
the Sora Rail — vulgo, the Rail.

" Male 9|.14.

" Passes across the United States, both by the interior and
along the coast. Some breed in New Jersey. Rarely seen
east of Massachusetts. Extremely abundant in autumn on the
Delaware and other streams furnished with wild oats. A few
reside in Florida and Louisiana in winter.

" Adult male.

" Bill shorter than the head, rather stout, deep, compressed,
tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline nearly
straight, being slightly convex toward the end, the ridge flattish
for a very short space at the base, very slightly extended on the
forehead, narrow in the rest of its extent ; the sides convex
toward the end, the edges sharp, inflected, with a slight sinus

UPLAND SHOOTING. 275

close to the tip. Nasal groove broad, and extending to two-
thirds of the length of the bill. Nostrils linear, lateral, sub-
medial, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle long and
narrow, the sides erect, the dorsal line sloping upward, the
edges inflected, the tip narrowed, the ga^ line straight.

" Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck of moderate
length. Body rather slender, much compressed. Feet of mod-
erate length, rather stout; tibia bare a short way above the
joint; tarsus of ordinary length, compressed, anteriorly covered
with broad scutella, posteriorly with smaller, and on the sides
reticulated. Hind toe very short and slender, middle toe
longest, and longer than the tarsus, fourth considerably shorter
than the third, and a little longer than the second ; toes free,
scutellate above, much compressed, with an inferior sharp
margin. Claws rather long, exceedingly compressed, slightly
arched, tapering to a fine point, flat, and marginate beneath.

" Plumage rather stiff, but blended, slightly glossed above.
Feathers of the forehead with the shaft enlarged and slightly
extended beyond the tip. Wings short and broad. Alula
large ; primaries curved, broad, tapering, but rounded, second
longest, third scarcely shorter, first equal to sixth ; secondaries
broad and rounded. Tail extremely short, much rounded, of
twelve feeble rounded feathers ; the upper and lower tail cov-
erts nearly as long as the tail feathers.

" Bill, yellow at the base, dusky toward the end. Iris bright
chestnut. Feet yellowish-green ; claws light-brown. A broad
band surrounding the base of the bill, the central part of the
crown, the chin, and the fore-neck in its whole length, brown-
ish-black. Ear coverts olive-brown ; a band over the eye, the
cheeks and the sides of the neck ash-grey. Sides of the crown,
the hind-neck, and the rest of the upper parts olive-brown. The
feathers brownish-black in the centre, those on the back with
two marginal lines of white. Smaller wing coverts of a lighter
brown; secondary coverts margined with black and white
markings ; quills dusky olive-brown, as is the tail. Middle of
breast and abdomen greyish-white ; sides barred with brownish-

276 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

black and greyish- white, as are the lateral feathers of the rump ;
those of the abdomen reddish-yellow.

" Length to end of tail, 9r3o inches; to end of wings, 8|; to
end of claws, 12 ; extent of wings, 14 ; wing from flexure, 4T82 ;
tail, 2 ; bill along the ridge, }f ; along the edge of the lower
mandible, ft; tarsus, 1^; its middle toe, ly^ ; its claw, 42V-
Weight, 7 oz.

" Adult female.

" The female differs considerably from the male in coloring.
The naked parts and iris are similar, as are the upper parts
generally; but the black around the base of the bill, on the
head and fore-neck, is wanting, the fore parts of the head being
light-brown, the chin whitish, the sides of the neck light grey-
ish-brown. The white lines of the back are duller, and the
dark bands of the sides of a lighter tint.

" Young male.

'' The young male, after its first moult, is intermediate in color
between the adult male and the female, but more like the lat-
ter, the black on the head and fore-neck appearing in spots,
and the sides of the neck being nearly as in the female." —
Audubon's Birds of America.

"Of all our land or water fowl, perhaps none afford the sports-
man more agreeable amusement or a more delicious repast
than the little bird now before us. This amusement is indeed
temporary, lasting only two or three hours in the day, for four
or five weeks in each year, but as it occurs in the most agree-
able and temperate of our seasons, is attended with little or no
fatigue to the gunner, and is frequently successful, it attracts
numerous followers, and is pursued in such places as the birds
frequent, with great eagerness and enthusiasm.

" The natural history of the Rail, or as it is called in Virginia
the Sora, and in South Carolina the Coot, is to the most of our
sportsmen involved in profound and inexplicable mystery. It
comes they know not whence, and goes they know not where.
No one can detect their first moment of arrival ; yet all at once

UPLAND SHOOTING. 277

the reedy shores and grassy marshes of our large rivers swarm
with them, thousands being sometimes found within the space of
a few acres. These, when they do venture on wing, seem to fly
so feebly, and in such short fluttering flights among the reeds, as
to render it highly improbable to most people that they could
possibly make their way over an extensive tract of country. Yet
on the first smart frost that occurs, the whole suddenly disap-
pear, as they had never been.

" To account for these extraordinary phenomena, it has been
supposed by some that they bury themselves in the mud, but as
this is every year dug up into ditches, by people repairing the
banks, without any of these sleepers being found, where but a
few weeks before these birds were innumerable, this theory has
been abandoned. And here their researches into this mysteri-
ous matter, generally end in the common exclamation of, What
can become of them ] Some profound inquirers, however, not
discouraged with these difficulties, have prosecuted their re-
searches with more success, and one of these being a few years
ago near the mouth of James River, in Virginia, where the
Rail, or Sora, are extremely numerous, has, as I was informed
on the spot, lately discovered that they change into Frogs,
having himself found in his meadows an animal of an extraordi-
nary kind, that appeared to be neither a Sora nor a Frog,
but, as he expressed it, something between the two. He car-
ried it to his negroes, and afterwards took it home, where it
lived three days, and in his own, and in his negroes' opinion, it
looked like nothing in this world but a real Sora changed into a
Frog ! What farther confirms this grand discovery, is the well-
known circumstance of the Frogs ceasing to halloo as soon as
the Sora comes in the fall.

" This sagacious discovery, however, like many others re-
nowned in history, has found but few supporters, and except his
own negroes, has not, as far as I can learn, made a single con-
vert to his opinion.

" Matters being so circumstanced, and some explanation ne-
cessary, I shall endeavor to throw a little more light on the

278 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

subject by a simple detail of facts, leaving the reader to form
his own theory as he pleases.

" The Rail, or Sora, belongs to a genus of birds of which about
thirty different species are enumerated by naturalists, and these
are distributed on almost every region of the habitable parts of
the earth. The general character of these is every where the
same. They run swiftly, fly slowly and usually with the legs
hanging down, become extremely fat, are fond of concealment,
and whenever it is practicable, prefer running to flying. Most
of them are migratory, and abound during the summer in cer-
tain countries, the inhabitants of which have very rarely an
opportunity of seeing them. Of this last, the Land Rail of
Britain is a striking example. This bird, which during the
summer months may be heard in almost every grass and clover
field in the kingdom, uttering its common note, 'crek, crek,' from
sunset to a late hour in the night, is yet unknown by sight to
more than nine-tenths of the inhabitants.

" Its well-known cry, says Bewick, is first heard as soon as
the grass becomes long enough to shelter it, and continues till
the grass is cut, but the bird is seldom seen, for it constantly
skulks among the thickest part of the herbage, and runs so
nimbly through it, winding and doubling in every direction,
that it is difficult to come near it. When hard pushed by the
dog, it sometimes stops short and squats down, by which means
its too eager pursuer overshoots the spot and loses the trace.

" It seldom springs, but when driven to extremity, and gene-
rally flies with its legs hanging down, but never to a great
distance ; as soon as it alights it runs off, and before the fowler
has reached the spot the bird is at a considerable distance.

" The Water-crake, or Spotted Rail of the same country,
which in its plumage approaches nearer to our Rail, is another
notable example of the same general habit of the genus. Its
common abode, says the same writer, is in low, swampy
grounds, in which are pools or streamlets overgrown with
willows, reeds and rushes, where it lurks and hides itself with
great circumspection. It is wild, solitary and sly, and will

UPLAND SHOOTING. 279

swim, dive and skulk under any cover, and sometimes suffer
itself to be knocked on the head, rather than rise before the
sportsman and his dog. The Water Rail of* the same country
is noted for the like habits. In short, the whole genus possess
this strange family character in a very remarkable degree.

" These three species are well known to migrate into Britain
early in the spring, and to leave it for the more southern parts
of Europe in autumn. Yet they are rarely or never seen in
their passage to or from the countries, where they are regularly
found at different seasons .of the year, and this for the very
same reasons, that they are so rarely seen even in the places
they inhabit. It is not, therefore, at all surprising, that the re-
gular migrations of the American Rail, or Sora, should in like
manner have escaped notice in a country like this, whose popu-
lation bears so small a proportion to its extent, and where the
study of natural history is so little attended to. But that these
migrations do actually take place, from north to south, and vice
versa, may be fairly inferred from the common practice of thou-
sands of other species of birds, less solicitous of concealment,
and also from the following facts : —

" On the 22d day of February, I killed two of these birds in
the neighborhood of Savannah, in Georgia, where they have
never been observed during the summer. On the second day
of the May following, I shot another in a watery thicket, below
Philadelphia, between the rivers Schuylkill and Delaware, in
what is usually called the Neck. This last was a male in full
plumage. "We are also informed that they arrive at Hudson's
Bay early in June, and again leave that settlement for the
South early in autumn.

" That many of them also remain here to breed, is proved by
the testimony of persons of credit and intelligence, with whom
I have conversed, both here and on James River, in Virginia,
who have seen their nests, eggs, and young. In the extensive
meadows that border the Schuylkill and Delaware, it was for-
merly common, before the country was so thickly settled, to
find young Rail in the first mowing time, among the grass

280 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

Mr. James Bartram, brother to the botanist, a venerable and
still active man, of eighty-three, and well acquainted with this
bird, says, that he has often seen and caught young Rail in his
own meadows, in the month of June ; he has also seen the nest,
which, he says, is usually in a tussock of grass, is formed of a
little dry grass, and had four or five eggs of dirty whitish color,
with brown, or blackish spots. The young run off as soon as
they break the shell, are then quite black, and run about among
the grass, like mice. The old ones he has very rarely observed
at that time, but the young often. Almost every old settler along
these meadows, with whom T have conversed, has occasionally
seen young Rail in mowing time, and all agree in describing
them as covered with blackish down. There can, therefore, be
no reasonable doubt as to the residence of many of those birds,
both here and to the northward, during the summer.

" That there can be as little doubt as to their winter retreat,
will appear more particularly towards the sequel of the present
account.

" During their residence here in summer, their manners exactly
correspond with those of the Water-crake of Britain, already
quoted, so that though actually a different species, their parti-
cular habits, common places of resort, and eagerness for con-
cealment, are as nearly the same as the nature of the climates
will admit.

" Early in August, when the reeds along the shores of the De-
laware have attained their full growth, the Rail resort to them
in great numbers, to feed on the seeds of this plant, of which
they, as well as the Rice-birds, and several others, are immo-
derately fond. These reeds, which appear to be the Zizania
panicula effusa of Linnaeus, and the Zizania clavulosa of Willin-
den, grow up from the soft muddy shores of the tide- water,
which are, alternately, dry, and covered with four or five feet of
water. They rise with an erect tapering stem, to the height of
eight or ten feet, being nearly as thick below as a man's wrist,
and cover tracts along the river for many acres. The cattle
feed on their long, green leaves, with avidity, and wade in after

UPLAND SHOOTING. 281

them as far as they dare safely venture. They grow up so close
together, that except at or near high water, a boat can with
difficulty make its way through among them. The seeds are
produced at the top of the plant, the blossoms, or male parts,
occupying the lower branches of the pannicle, and the seeds the
higher. The seeds are nearly as long as a common-sized pin,
somewhat more slender, white, sweet to the taste, and very nu-
tritive, as appears by their effects on the various birds that feed
on them at this season. When the reeds are in this state, and
even while in blossom, the Rail are found to have taken pos-
session of them in great numbers. These are generally nume-
rous, in proportion to the full and promising crop of the former.
As you walk along the embankment of the river, at this season,
you hear them squeaking in every direction, like young puppies.
If a stone be thrown among the reeds, there is a general out-
cry, and a reiterated kulc, kuJc, huh, — something like that of a
Guinea-fowl. Any sudden noise, or discharge of a gun, pro-
duces the same effect. In the meantime, none are to be seen,
unless it be at or near high water, — for when the tide is low,
they universally secrete themselves among the interstices of the
reeds ; and you may walk past, and even over them, where
there are hundreds, without seeing a single individual. On their
first arrival, they are generally lean and unfit for the table, but
as the seeds ripen, they rapidly fatten, and from the 20th Sep-
tember to the middle of October, are excellent, and eagerly
sought after. The usual method of shooting them in this quar-
ter of the country, is as follows.

" The sportsman furnishes himself with a light batteau, and a
stout, experienced boatman, with a pole of twelve or fifteen feet
long, thickened at the lower end, to prevent it from sinking too
deep in the mud. About two hours or so before high water,
they enter the reeds, and each takes his post, — the sportsman
standing in the bow, ready for action, the boatman on the stem-
seat, pushing her steadily through the reeds. The Rail gene-
rally spring singly as the boat advances, and at a short distance
a-head, are instantly shot down, while the boatman, keeping

282 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

his eye on the spot where the bud fell, directs the boat forward,
and picks the bird up, while the gunner is loading. It is also
the boatman's business to keep a sharp look-out, and give the
word ' Mark,' when a Rail springs on either side, without being
observed by the sportsman, and to note the exact spot where it
falls, until he has picked it up ; for this once lost sight of, owing
to the sameness in the appearance of the reeds, is seldom found
again. In this manner the boat moves steadily through and
over the reeds, the birds flushing and falling, the gunner load-
ing and firing, while the boatman is pushing and picking up.
The sport continues an hour or two after high water, when
the shallowness of the water, and the strength and weight of
the floating reeds, as also the backwardness of the game to
spring, as the tide decreases, oblige them to return. Several
boats are sometimes within a short distance of each other, and
a perpetual cracking of musketry prevails above the whole
reedy shores of the river. In these excursions, it is not un-
common for an active and expert marksman to kill ten or twelve
dozen in a tide. They are usually shot singly, though I have
known five killed at one discharge of a double-barrelled piece.
These instances, however, are rare. The flight of these birds
among the reeds, is usually low, and shelter being abundant, is
rarely extended to more than fifty or one hundred yards. When
winged, and uninjured in their legs, they swim and dive with
great rapidity, and are seldom seen to rise again. I have seve-
ral times, on such occasions, discovered them clinging with their
feet to the reeds under the water, and at other times skulking
under the floating reeds, with their bills just above the surface ;
sometimes, when wounded, they dive, and rising under the gun
wale of the boat, secrete themselves there, moving round as the
boat moves, until they have an opportunity of escaping unno-
ticed. They are feeble and delicate in everything except the
legs, which seem to possess great vigor and energy ; and their
bodies being so remarkably thin, are compressed so as to be less
than an inch and a quarter through transversely, they are ena-
bled to pass between the reeds like rats. When seen, they are

UPLAND SHOOTING. 283

almost constantly jetting up the tail, yet though their flight
among the reeds seem feeble and fluttering, every sportsman
who is acquainted with them here, must have seen them occa-
sionally rising to a considerable height, stretching out their legs
behind them, and flying rapidly across the river, where it is
more than a mile in width. Such is the mode of Rail shooting
in the neighborhood of Phil adelphia.

" In Virginia, particularly along the shores of James River,
within the tide water, whex-e the Rail, or Sora, are in prodigious
numbers, they are also shot on the wing, but more usually taken
at night in the following manner : —

" A kind of iron grate is fixed on the top of a stout pole, which
is placed like a mast in a light canoe, and filled with fire. The
darker the night, the more successful is the sport. The person
who manages the canoe, is provided with a light paddle, ten or
twelve feet in length ; and about an hour before high water, pro-
ceeds through among the reeds, which lie broken and floating on
the surface. The whole space, for a considerable way round
the canoe, is completely enlightened, — the birds start with as-
tonishment, and, as they appear, are knocked over the head with
a paddle, and thrown into the canoe. In this manner, from
twenty to eighty dozen have been killed by three negroes in the
short space of three hours.

" At the same .season, or a little earlier, they are very nume-
rous in the lagoons near Detroit, on our northern frontier,
where another species of reed, of which they are equally fond,
grows in shallows in great abundance. Gentlemen who have
shot them there, and on whose judgment I can rely, assure me
that they differ in nothing from those they have usually killed
on the shores of the Delaware and Schuylkill ; they are equally
fat and exquisite eating.

" On the seacoast of New-Jersey, where these are not to be
found, this bird is altogether unknown, though along the
marshes of Maurice River, and other tributary streams of the
Delaware, and where the reeds abound, the Rail are sure to be
found also. Most of them leave Pennsylvania before the end of

284 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

October, and the Southern States early in November, though
numbers linger in the warm southern marshes the whole winter.

"A very worthy gentleman — Mr. Harrison — who lives in
Kittiwan, near a creek of that name, on the borders of James
River, informed me, in burning his meadows eai-ly in March,
they generally raise and destroy several of these birds.

" That the great body of these Rail winter in countries be-
yond the United States, is rendered highly probable, from their
being so frequently met with at sea, between our shores and
the West India Islands.

"A Captain Douglas informed me, that on his voyage from
St. Domingo to Philadelphia, and more than a hundred miles
from the Capes of the Delaware, one night the man at the
helm was alarmed by a sudden crash on deck, that broke the
glass in the binnacle, and put out the light. On examining into
the cause, three Rail were found on deck, two of which were
killed on the spot, and the other died soon after.

" The late Bishop Madison, President of William and Mary
College, Virginia, assured me that a Mr. Skipwith, for some
time our Consul in Europe, on his return to the United States,
when upwards of three hundred miles from the Capes of the
Chesapeake, several Rail, or Soras, I think five or six, came
on board, and were caught by the people. Mr. Skipwith being
well acquainted with the bird, assured him that they were the
very same with those usually killed on James River.

" I have received like assurances from several other gentle-
men, and captains of vessels, who have met with those birds be-
tween the main land and the islands, so as to leave no doubt on
my mind as to the fact. For why should it be considered in-
credible, that a bird which can both swim and dive well, and at
pleasure fly with great rapidity, as I have myself frequently wit-
nessed, should be incapable of migrating, like so many others,
over extensive tracts of land or sea % Inhabiting as they do the
remote regions of Hudson's Bay, where it is impossible they
could subsist during the rigor of the winter, they must either
emigrate from there, or perish ; and as the same places in Penn-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 285

sylvania, which abound with them in October, are often laid
under ice and snow during the winter, it is as impossible that
they could exist here in that inclement season. Heaven has,
therefore, given them, in common with many others, certain
prescience of these circumstances, and judgment, as well as
strength of flight, sufficient to seek more genial climate, abound-
in s: with the suitable food.

" Daring the greater part of the months of September and
October, the market of Philadelphia is abundantly supplied with
Rail, which are sold from half a dollar to a dollar per dozen.
Soon after the 20th of October, at which time our first smart
frosts generally take place, these birds move off to the South.
In Virginia they usually remain until the first week in Novem-
ber.

" Since the above was written, I have received from Mr.
George Ord, of Philadelphia, some curious particulars relative
to this bird, which, as they are new, and come from a gentle-
man of respectability, are worthy of being recorded, and merit
further investigation.

" ' My personal experience,' says Mi*. Ord, ' has made me ac-
quainted with a fact in the history of the Rail, which, perhaps,
is not generally known, — and I shall as briefly as possible com-
municate it to you. Some time in the autumn of the yeai 1809,
as I was walking in a yard, after a severe shower of rain, I per-
ceived the feet of a bird projecting from a spout. I pulled it
out, and discovered it to be a Rail, very vigorous, and in per-
fect health. The bird was placed in a small room, on a gun
case, and I was amusing myself with it, when in the act of
pointing my finger at it, it suddenly sprang forward, apparently
much irritated, fell to the floor, and stretching out its feet, and
bending its neck, until the head nearly touched the back, be-
came to all appearance lifeless. Thinking the fall had killed
the bird, I took it up, and began to lament my rashness, in pro-
voking it. In a few minutes it again breathed, and it was some
time befoi-e it perfectly recovered from the fit into which it now
appeared evident it had fallen. I placed the Rail in a room

286 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

wherein Canary Birds were confined, and resolved that on the
succeeding day, I would endeavor to discover whether or not
the passion of anger had produced the fit. I entered the room
at the appointed time, and approached the bird, which had re-
tired on beholding me, in sullen humor, to a corner. On point-
ing my finger at it, its feathers were immediately ruffled, and
in an instant it sprang forward, as in the first instance, and fell
into a similar fit. The following day the experiment was re-
peated, with like effect.

" 'In the fall of 1811, as I was shooting among the reeds, I
perceived a Rail rise but a few feet before my batteau. The
bird had risen about a yard, when it became entangled in
the tops of a small bunch of reeds, and immediately fell. Its
feet and neck were extended, as in the instances above men-
tioned, and before it had time to recover, I killed it. Some
few days afterwards, as a friend and I were shooting in the
same place, he killed a Rail, and as we approached the spot to
pick it up, another was perched not a foot off, in a fit ; I took
up the latter and placed it in the crown of my hat ; in a few
moments it revived, and was as vigorous as ever.

" ' These facts go to prove that the Rail is subject to gusts of
passion, which operate to so violent a degree as to produce a
disease similar in its effects to epilepsy. I leave the explana-
tion of the phenomena to those pathologists who are competent
and willing to investigate it. It may be worthy to remark that
the birds affected as described, were all females, of the Galli-
nula Carolina, or common Rail '

" The Rail, though generally reputed a simple bird, will
sometimes manifest symptoms of considerable intelligence. To
those acquainted with Rail shooting, it is hardly necessary to
mention that the tide in its flux is considered an almost indis-
pensable auxiliary, for when the water is off the marsh, the
lubricity of the mud, the height and compactness of the reed,
and the swiftness of foot of the game tend to weary the sports-
man and to frustrate his endeavors.

"Even should he succeed in a tolerable degree, the reward is

UPLAND SHOOTING. 2S7

not commensurate to the labor. I have entered the marsh in a
batteau, at a common tide, and in a well-known haunt, have
beheld but a few birds. The next better tide, on our resorting
to the same spot, I perceived abundance of game. The
fact is, the 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 until the sportsman
has passed them, and it is well known that it is a common prac-
tice with wounded Rail to dive to ihe 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 escape 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 decreases 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 explained 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 classing this
bird under the genus Rallus. 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-
VOL. i. 21

288 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 torpid 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 Pennsylvanian or Virginian Rail, enters the un'on from
the shores of Mex'co, 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
journey 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 Florida, 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 t ue, 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 with a favorable wind,
the fortunate travellers pursue their journey by entering Pam-
lico Sound, and following the inner 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. Lawrence,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 289

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
considerably slower 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 tarry 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
seacoast 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,
so 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 April, 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 the subject by add-

290 FEANK 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 wing 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 my
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.

1 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 of
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.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 291

This bird which is, properly,

The Clapper Rail, 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
Island to the Gulf of Mexico. It is a large-sized bird, weighing
11 to 12 oz., and looking much larger than it really is. They
are shot in the bays of Long Island, and still more abundantly
in the vicinity of Charleston, much as the Sora Rail is on the
Delaware ; the boats are, however, in this sport, if it can be
so called — for 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 m 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 20^ 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 both on fresh and salt water, but is nowhere exceedingly
abundant.

In addition to these, I may name the common Coot of Ameri-
ca, and the common Gallinule, both of this same family of
RallidjE. They are principally Southern birds, though strag-
glers are occasionally found in the Middle and Eastern States.
They are of little worth for the sport which they afford, and still
less for the quality of their flesh ; but like many other water
birds and waders, such as the Bitterns, Herons, Egrets, and the

292 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 these, however, require any fuller notice than the
above, and hence I proceed to shooting the Sora Rail on the
Delaware.

UPLAND SHOOTING.

293

RAIL SHOOTING.

ROM the middle of August, until
the setting in of wintry frosts,
the pursuit of this curious, and ex-
cellent little bird, may be followed
in the localities which he fre-
quents, by those who care for the
sport.

It is not by any means compa-
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 ; he 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 flesh,
the absence of more agreeable and exciting sport, and the very
easiness of the pursuit, which, to young hands and bad shots, is
a recommendation, the Rail is very eagerly pursued ; and dur-
ing those periods of the tide, which permit 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-

294 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 flight is then slow and heavy, with the legs hanging 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 onboard, the
merest 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 rockino-
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 bird has fallen ; and,
moreover, the reeds and grass are so thick, and so similar in

UPLAND SHOOTING. 295

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
useless to look for it. So many boats, moreover, are darting
about in 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 other 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
sport, 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 information, 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.

296 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

The 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
run over and through the reeds, you m'ust commence ; and your
sport will continue so long as the birds will continue to rise be-
fore you, which will generally be until about the first quarter of
the ebb ; but as the water falls, the Rail become less and less
willing to take wing, — and in similar positions of the rising and
falling tide, you shall flush twice as many when it is making.

There is little more to be said, on the head of this spoil, ex-
cept to give a few hints as to accoutrements and equipage, on
which, perhaps, next to the merits of your pole-man, the cele-
rity of your shooting, and amount of your bag, will depend.

The best position, as I have observed, for the shooter, is to
stand, — and the best way to do this in the tottering and fragile
skiffs, is to plant the feet firmly a little way apart, with the left
somewhat advanced ; not to brace your legs, or stiffen your
knees, but rather to let the latter be a little bent, and to humor
the motion of the boat, by swaying your body slightly in accord-
ance with it.

It does not much matter, however, except so far as you dread
a ducking, reader mine, whether you chance to get overboard,
or no, for the sport is pursued, invariably, in the shallowest of
water, and drowning is out of the question, in the worst event.

As the weather is generally warm, a light shooting-jacket,
and straw hat, are as appropriate a dress as any. Your shortest
and your lightest gun, is the best tool for the sport ; but a largish
landing-net, on a long, light pole, will be found a very conve-
nient appendage, and will save your pole-man much time in
bringing your dead birds to bag.

Next, as regards loading, to do which very quickly — at all
times a great point, is here a sine qua non to good sport — use no
shot-bag, and put the charger of your powder-horn down to its
minimum of contents. Half the ordinary charge of powder, and
three-quarters of an ounce of No. 9 shot, is an ample charge
for Rail. But if you are looking out for flock shooting at Reed-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 297

birds at the same time, as is usual, it is well to carry a second
heavier gun, with an ordinary load of No. 8. Sometimes Teal,
or other wild duck, come across you, especially while going up
or down the river to your ground, or returning from it ; and for
the chance of these, it is well to reserve a barrel, if not a gun,
loaded with Eley's cartridges of No. 3 or 4.

For greater convenience of loading, as you are always sta-
tionary in one place, and have abundant space for conveniences,
you will find it well to have a square wooden box, with two
compartments, one capable of containing eight or ten pounds of
shot, and the other a quantum suff. of wadding ; a small tin scoop
of the capacity named above, three-quarters of an ounce, lying
on the shot, will save much trouble, and half the time in load-
ing. This box, and your powder-horn, will lie on the bench or
thwart before you, — your copper caps you will keep in your
waistcoat-pocket ; and by the precaution of being thus provided
aforehand, you will get three shots for two with a rival, who
lugs his flask out of his pocket, and charges with a belt or pouch
after every shot.

No farther rules are needed, except the old one, which can-
not be too often repeated, — take your time, and be deliberate.
Nay ! with the Rail you can afford to be slow, for he shall rise
within ten feet of you, ninety -nine times of a hundred, and you
shall miss him only by getting flurried, or by tumbling over-
board.

For the rest, though it really scarce deserves to be rated as a
sport, or honored with a place among the nobler kinds of wood-
craft, Rail shooting is a pretty pastime enough ; and when birds
are abundant, and rise well, the rapid succession of shots, and
the necessary rapidity of motion, creates an excitement, to which
is often added the emulation of surpassing rival boats and gun-
ners,— to which may again be superadded the stimulating ap-
prehension of being peppered soundly by a stray charge of
mustard-seed, together with the agreeable variations of vitupe-
ration and recrimination, to which the said peppering may be
expected to give rise.

298 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

The Rail is, as I observed before, capital eating. He is to be
cooked and served exactly as the Snipe, with no sauce or condi-
ment whatever, but his own gravy caught upon a slice of crisp
buttered toast, and a sprinkle of salt. Like all water-birds, he
is to be eaten fresh, the sooner after killing the better ! Twenty-
four hours dead, he is not only ancient, but fish-like. Red wine
is the liquor wherein he should be laid at rest within the inner
man, as unquiet ghosts in a red sea ! Peace to him ! He shall
sit lightly on your stomach, even if partaken at a rere supper.

A few words, hereafter, concerning wild-fowl shooting in
upland brooks, or stalking them on inland lakes, or pools, and
I have finished my task, in so much as relates to Upland shooting.

UPLAND SHOOTING.

299

BUCK SHOOTING, ON INLAND WATERS.

,,,(' N the Eastern and Midland
W^ States, unless on the borders of
£=~- the great lakes, this sport of late
years can hardly be said to exist
at all. The birds are becoming
rare and wild, and, although still
shot in sufficient numbers by the
local gunners, on the streams of
New- Jersey, to supply the demand of the markets, they are not
found numerous enough to justify the pursuit of the sportsman.
Formerly on the drowned lands of Orange county, on the
meadows of Chatham and Pine Brook, on the Passaic and its
tributaries, before the modem 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 wi'li the canoe ; in a day's paddling of which, among
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

300 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 cat 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 kind 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 double-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 more exciting, by the introduction
of the large Water Spaniel, well broken to fetch, to aid as a
retriever. Every time 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 hand to crouch-close — nay ! he must not prick his ear,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 301

or wag his tail, lest the quick eye of the watchful Duck, or their
almosl infallible sense of hearing, detect either hy sound or
sight the impatient movement. Once ordered to recover the
dead, or, \vh;it is worse, the cripples, neither the cold of
the freezing lake, nor the rough billows of the stormy frith,
must deter him. In his perfection he is, and needs must be, the
most intelligent, and so far as endurance goes, the bravest of
dogs ; and so far as the fowler's particular sport unquestionably
lacks that variety and excitement, both of incident and pursuit,
which gives the great charm to every kind of shooting or hunt-
ing, it will certainly be well to add to it the increased pleasure
afforded 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 Newfound-
land dog is preferable to all other races. In a work which has
lately come before me, however, of which I think very highly,
I 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
Colquhoun, of Luss, who, in the sphere of wild sports, to which
he has paid attention, is not, I think, inferior to Col. Hawker,
when mounted on his hobby of British sea-fowling.

From this book, while on die present topic, I shall again
quote ; and, without farther apology or explanation, proceed to
extract his views as to the dog most fitting as the Duck-shooter's
assistant.

" Next in importance to the gun," says Mr. Colquhoun, " is
a proper retriever. The Newfoundland is not quite the thing :
first, his black color is against, him" — white, of course, is out of
the question — " 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.

302 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS.

If you accustomed a Newfoundland dog to tins, 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 trouble 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, although
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. 303

After proceeding to give some further information with 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 extenso
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 Alleghanies, 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 author's views are distinctly and directly applicable — I shall
extract without alteration or abi'idgment; 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 effect 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. Tf the loch be well
frequented, he will most likely first discover a flock of divers,
but must not be in a hurry 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 may be wild-fowl. Let him then imrae-
VOL. 1. 22

304 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 be wild-fowl asleep, they will, in all probability,
betray themselves by ra'sing a head or flapping a wing.

'' He must now take one or two large marks, that he will 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 forward, until he gets the advantage of a
bush 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 English works without qualification, the
Mallard and Duck known, in this country generally, as the " Greeu-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, there are
so many turnings and windings which 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 heavy
sitting shots, and content himself with the greater number being distant flying
ones."

UPLAND SHOOTING. 305

endeavor to catch sight of them. I will suppose him fortunate
enough to do so, and that they are perfectly unconscious of his
near approach. He must lower his head in the same cautions
manner, and look for some refuge at a fair distance from the
birds, through which he may fire the deadly sitting shot. .After
crawling -serpent-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; tlien drawing back a little, in
order that his gun may be just clear of the hush for the second
barrel, after having fired the first through it, will take sure aim
at his selected victims. Should 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-i.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 fii-e 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
retriever will rush to your assistance, and having secured your
cripples, you will re-load, and taking out your glass, reconnoitre
again ; for though Ducks, Widgeon, &c, would fly out upon
the loch at the report of your gun, yet the diver tribe,* if there
are only one or two together, are perhaps more likely to be
under water than above when you fire ; but more of them
anon.

* The divers most common to us are the Buffel-headed Duck, or Butter-
Ball ; and the two varieties of Merganser, more commonly known as Shel-
drakes— to which fowl, it does not, in truth, offer even a remote resemblance.
The true Sheldrake Anas Tadorna, being a perfect Duck, and not a diver.

306 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 v/as 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, unless 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 you'll stalk these Ducks so as to
get a good shot, I'll never care for their noses again !" 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 :
rny decided advice, however, is not to stalk wild-fowl to windward, if it can he
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 ! !.'"

UPLAND SHOOTING. 307

I was waiting for three or four in line, the wind blowing direct
from me to them, without perceiving by any signs their con-
sciousness of an enemy's vicinity.*

" When the weather 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 about 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
shot at Ducks, the first warm sunny days in March, t as they
collect on the grassy places at the margin to feed upon the
insects brought into life by the genial heat.

" But to return to our wild-fowl shooter, whom we left glas3
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."

t This 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.

tFor March 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.

308 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

ground 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 together, then rushing forward whilst they are under
water, again conceals himself, expecting their re-ap]3carance.
The great difficulty is always to keep in view the exact spot
where the birds come up : once lose sight of it, your progress
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 barrels, and as soon as they together disap-
pear, rush to the nearest point on the shore for a shot. If the
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 gfood doc: should be able to secure him.

" So much for the small Morillon* The Golden-eyet is a still
more artful bird, and requires 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.
be 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 if.

t The Golden-eye of England is the same as our own. Anas Clangula.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 309

other, that Morillons are not young Golden-eyes, as many
pose. This supposition, I hare little doubt, arises from the
color of the female Golden-eye being pretty much like that of
the Morillou. The shape, however, is different, and the Bize of
the female (iolden-cye nearly equal to that of the male. I have
shot them, right and left when diving together, llie 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
half the 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 this be the young
of the same species V I answer, ' that the young males of all
the Duck tribe that breed in ibis 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 Mori] I on is the
young bird, why should he reverse the usual order of things,
and be less tender and delicate than his parents]'

" 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; of
which you would have had a much worse chance while they
wei'e 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 bai'e 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

310 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, from 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-birds* 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 our Red-head, Fuli-
gula Ferina, which is with us 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. 311

a bay, you have only to conceal yourself at the other, and send
your man round to where they are diving. 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 : I how-
ever, should be loath to lose the opportunity of the sitting shot.
" There are many other divers that frequent our lochs, such as
the tufted* and scaupf 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.f Those that feed on fish, such

* The Ring-necked Duck of America. Fuligula Rufi torques.

t The Scaup-duck — in the West, Flocking Fowl — on the Chesapeake,
Black-head — commonly Blue-bill, or Broad-bill, Fuligula Marila. All these
are properly Sea Ducks ; but all are found to the Westward, as in Great Bri-
tain, more or less inland.

t " Last winter I had a good opportunity of contrasting the artful and suspi-
cious nature of the Golden-eye with that of the more confiding Morillon. When
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, I 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 then have escaped."

312 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 may 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 i3
not naturally so shy a bird as the Wild-duck, but still his long
neck, and acute sense of hearing, render great 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 firing 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 burns 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, try 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 the Swan of the Chesapeake, Cycnus Ameri-
canns, though closely cognate. Our bird never. I fancy, betakes himself to
lakes, or the like, within the limits of the United States, though he is said to do
so in the far West, beyond the Mississippi and Rocky Mountains.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 313

alarmed by an enemy on shore, his wont is not to fly, but to
swim majestically away.

" Widgeon* and Teal are approached in the same' way aa
Wild-ducks, only the Widgeon are less shy than the Ducks, and
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 accompli h. 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 hardest 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 be 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-
rent kinds of water fowl which frequent the loch in winter, pre-
sent themselves during the harvest 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 different bird, though not unlike our Widgeon, Anas Americana, the
Bald-pate. It is worthy of notice, that the Widgeon of the Chesapeake is con-
sidered the shyest and most difficult to tole, of all the Ducks which frequent
those waters.

314 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
frozen over, which again diives 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
so apt to penetrate, and make it miss fire.

" If the weather be open, the higher the wind the better, as
it di'ives 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 frost)
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 rustling among the
bushes, when they are above the water, you have every pros-

* These observations 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 and 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. 315

pect of a good chance. The smoothness of the surface and the
mist makes each bird appear 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, without a bush or tuft of reeds to hide behind, when
the birds are above water.

" The wild-fowl shooter must never forget, that true proof of
his skill consists 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-
tion, 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 flat upon 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 fair 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 waiters are useless 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

316 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 used 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 carried ;
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 barrel 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
barrel, and 9 to 10 lbs. weight. A gun of this kind can be fur-
nished by Mr. Mullin, 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 per ct. ad valorem duty
added, shipping charges, &c, will amount to a very large price.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 317

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 cai'ed to shoot with ; and I do not consider that
Westley Richards' merits at all equal his reputation. I consider
Purdey, Lancaster, and Moore and Gray, the first three makei^s
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 lai'ge enough for any kind of
fowl, unless Canada Geese, or Wild Swans ; but I would al-
ways use a green Eley's cartridge in one barrel. The best
powder, beyond all question or comparison, for fowling, and es-
pecially sea shooting, is what is called Haiokefs Ducking Powder,
prepared by Curtis and Harvey, 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 dam^ 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 waterproof caps. One of these, for ah
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 sap. And so adieu to Upland
shooting.

318

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, now approach, without farther observation 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
on]y 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 SHOOTING. 319

chard 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 peculiarities, entitle his observations to respectful
attention; although to some of his views, especially in regard to
breeding and races, I must enter my dissent. The latter book
has never, I believe, been republished in America, but the
English edition 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 medias 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 sagaccs, 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 1
must think with justice, as superior in beauty, endurance and
aptitude 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' grown into an
hereditary instinct, to mark his game by setting or crouching,
instead of flushing it on the instant.
VOL. I. 23

320 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SFORTS.

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 Sportsman 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
making 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 quite 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 Pointer bitch to a noted Foxhound ; you will
then have laid the foundation of three essential qualities, sjieed,
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-
trieve, and fin* general shooting will be found the very best and
most useful animal the sportsman can desire."

UPLAND SHOOTING. 321

I quote the above as J have said, merely to cautiun 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 he 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
in nine cases out of ten, disadvantageous, and instead of com-
bining the peculiar excellencies, the produce is very apt to
unite the worst qualities of the several strains, superadded to a
sullenness and badness of temper, which is in some sort, the
characteristic of all mules.

Mr. Lewis is under the impression, as I gather from his
comments on Youatt, that it is the fashion in England, to
intermix Setter and Pointer blood, by way of improving 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 erroneous ; for, although doubtless much
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
their establishment, much less breed from him. Such an inter-
mixture is regarded as decidedly a taint, as a strain of cock-tail
blood in the pedigree of a thorough-bred horse. And very
many noblemen and gentlemen pay as much attention to their
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 made dog, that is to say, he is not of an
original or pure breed, traceable to any one variety, nor has he
been known to the sporting world for any considerable length
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
ago as A. D. 1307, whereas the Pointer was not known in the
sixteenth century, and probably has not existed in his present

322 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

improved form, for much above a hundred years. He waa
known originally as the Spanish Pointer, and was probably first

red in that country, to which his peculiar capacity for endu-
ring heat and the want of water singularly adapts him.

li appears probable that he is an improved or altered form
of the Foxhound, bred and trained to stand instead of chasing
lii.s 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 a 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 smooth-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 he surprised 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.

■

The Setter is too well known in this country to requi
particular description, it may be well, however, to call the
attention to some of those 'points, which peculiarly indicate
purity of breed; the first oft! ese is undoubtedly the nature of
bis coat, which, in the finest and purest strain, is long,
and wavy, but not curly, even upon the crest and ears — a ten-
dency i i ( ml indicating an admixture of the Water Spaniel — it
Bhould ! e as soft, and almost as fine and. glossy as (loss silk", and
on his stem and along the back of his legs Bhould expand into
a fringe known technically as the featliering, often of many
inches in extent. The head should he broad between the eyes,
with a high bony process or ridge at the hinder extremity of
the skull, hetween 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 he long rather than broad, and somewhat tapering, with
soft, moist, well-expanded nostrils, and above all things, a
Mack nose and palate, with a full, liquid, 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 hotter. The feet should be hard, round, and cat-lik
well 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 \
when in movement, is very lithe and graceful, the stern is carried
high, and constantly feathered, and it is a good sign if the head
is likewise carried high, and if the dog snuff the air when scent-
inor his game, rather than stoop his nose to the ground, and

324 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

puzzle for his scent, which hahit is often the result of a difi-
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,
though 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 superiority on the part of the Setter, that
I must decidedly give him the palm over his rival, and 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 rough-and-tumble, eager, scientific, keen sports-
man, rely upon it the Setter is the dog.

Of the Setter, there are three principal varieties.
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 principal characteris-
tics. He is found of all colors — black, black and white, 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 head that I

UPLAND SHOOTING. 325

sometimes suspected a Spaniel cross. A chocolate-colored nose
[ look upon as very suspicious, and a flesh-colored, or white
nose, I think indicative of softness of constitution.

The Irish Setter is either pure red, or red and white, or
yellow and white spotted. His nose, lips, and palate, are inva-
riably black. 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 his indomitable pluck, his rapidity, his perseverance, and
his dash, render him, in my opinion, for the real hard-woi'king
sportsman, preferable to his English brother.

The Scotch and Welsh Setters are in no respect distinct
varieties, and only differ from the English, as being inferior in
purity of blood. The Irish dog is undoubtedly the original type
of the Setter in Great Britain.

The Russian Setter is, however, clearly a distinct variety ;
and it is a little remarkable that this race has never been des-
cribed in any American work, and that Mr. Youatt, and his
editor, 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 of
coarse woolly hair, that unless it is clipped away from the brows,
the animal can scarcely see. The whole body is covered by a
coat of long, thick, woolly fleece, hanging in elf-locks knotted
together, of many inches in length, as curly, though six times as
long, as those of the Water Poodle. Its olfactory powers are
of the very 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
would, I think, suit this country beyond any dog with which
I am acquainted, though I have never seen one in America. It
is less handsome than the English and Irish breeds, but its qua-

326 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

lities are first-rate. They are 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 importance 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
Youatt, 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 powers, 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 Pointer, would result in his
ears, tail and body being lacerated and streaming with blood.

" On the other hand, the Pointer is superior to the Setter in
retaining his acquired powers for hunting, and not being natu-
rally enthusiastic in pursuit of game, he is more easily broken
end kept in proper subjection.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 327

" The Setter frequently requires a partial rebreaking at the
commencement of each season, in his younger clays, 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 exti'eme 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 come
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, owin^ to his enthusiasm and swift-
ness of foot. Setters require much more water while hunting
than the Pointer, owing to their thick covering of fur, encou-
raging a greater amount of insensible perspiration to fly ocf
than the thin and short dress of the Pointer. Consequently they
are better 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 shoul-
der and carry him to a farm-house, a considerable distance off.
However, he succeeded, with much difficulty, in reaching the

328 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. In 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. 329

we have much pleasure 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 must be remembered that this quotation is from an English book, and
that the English Partridge is the bird spoken of above, there being 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 betake themselves, as
soon as flushed, to the densest covert, the Setter is here, more than anywhere,
in the ascendant.

330 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

bred as south-country clogs, and therefore more calculated for
rough work. Many are crossed with the Foxhound, which
gives them speed and courage as well as hardness of fool
the produce of the first ctoss 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 will not eat the Scotch meal at first. 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 work, 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. 331

into gorse or low cover, in the middle of tlio 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 1> ;ai
In the latter case you stand sometimes an hour tog ither without
getting a shot; and then they rise a dozen at a time, like barn-
door fowls, and as many are killed in a few hours as would serve
for works of fair shooting.

" ' In tin; 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 performances ; he
belonged to the late Joseph Manton, and lad been Hold 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 beat many good
ones, and never before been beaten — for eight years, that his
nose could not have been right, f ,,r the Russians got three points
to his one. I therefore resolved to try some others against
them the next season ; and having heard a gentleman, well
known as an excellent judge, speak of a brace of extraordinary
dogs he had seen in the neighborhood of his Yorkshire moors,
with his recommendation I purchased them. "I shot to them in
August j 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 that 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 going so fast through
stubbles and turnips — 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

332 FRANK 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 ex reme 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
nothing that I have yet seen could equal them. If not taken
out for six months, they are pei'fectly 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 1 Hard and constant work is as necessary for a dog,

UPLAND SHOOTING. 333

that has to hunt from morning to night, and frequently for
several successive day3, 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 tried 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
woithy 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 September, 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 flash in the morning.

" ' I always teach one, 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 only add, that I have both seen and owned
Setters, which on the first day of the season were as steady and

334 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 in 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 known as sagaces, or intelligent, and pvgnaces or
hellicosi, 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
affectionate. Neither his temper nor other qualities, except in
the field, greatly recommend him ; but for the steady pursuit of

UPLAND SHOOTING. 335

his game in the open plain, his great caution in not over-
running it, his great capacities of enduring heat and thirst,
and his retentive memory of what he has been taught, unqual-
ified by any headstrong or impetuous dash, render him, for the
pursuit of some species of animals and for some localities,
unrivalled. 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
are so rocky and so much beset with stubs that his bare feet,
unless protected with buckskin boots, through which the claws
must be suffered to protrude, will not enable him to bear the
wear and tear of daily work. Some of the western praries,
which are dry and deficient of water, are well suited for him,
as in Wisconsin and parts of Michigan ; and there, he is prized,
and deservedly.

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 esjaecial 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. He
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-
pered dog, growling at the hand that would caress him, even
vol. I. 24

336 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 particular
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 double-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 deformity, 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 follow^,
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. 337

" 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 perform 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
which 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 large 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 breed, 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 improves nei-
ther the temper nor the qualities of the dog.

Like Setters, Pointers are of all colors, and I know not that
any color has the preference ; but as in the Setter I should dis-
trust liver color, which I regard as properly a Pointer color, so
in the Pointer I look with suspicion on red or yellow, that being
a Setter or Spaniel tint. There is a very pure and high strain
of Pointers, principally white, with liver-colored ears and faces,

338 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

having a light tan spot over each eye, and a tan shadowing
round the muzzle, and a few liver spots on the body. No tint
is preferable to this. Black and tan is an undeniable, though
uncommon color for the Pointer, coming probably from Fox-
hound blood ; and pure black dogs arc frequent and good. I dis-
like a black and white spotted Pointei*, it has a currish look, to
say the least of it.

The more highly bred any animal is, the better he will be,
I believe, in all respects. The Pointer's skin becomes infi-
nitely tenderer, and his whole frame more delicate and fine-
drawn, by high breeding ; but so much does he gain thereby,
in pluck and courage, that I have seen pure-blooded dogs of this
strain tearing their way through cat-biiar brakes, literally bleed-
ing at every pore, and whimpering with pain, while great,
coarse-bred, hairy brutes, of six times their apparent power of
frame, and capacities of endurance, slunk away like curs, as
they were, unable to face the thorns.

In every animal, from the man, in whom I believe it tells the
most, down to the bullock and the Berkshire hog, I am an im-
plicit believer in the efficacy of blood and breeding to develop all
qualities, especially courage to do, and courage to bear — as well
as to produce the highest and most delicate nervous organiza-
tion ; and I would as willingly have a cur in my shooting ken-
nel, as a mule in my racing stable, if I had one.

I will now proceed to notice briefly, as becomes the scanti-
ness of his use in this country,

THE COCKING SPANIEL.

This beautiful, intelligent, and useful dog, which, like the
Pointer, is, as his name indicates, probably of Spanish origin, is
very little known or used in this country, except as a pet and
plaything for ladies ; and yet there is no country in the world
for which, from the great prevalence of woodland over open

UPLAND SHOOTING. 339

dhooting, the great thickness and seventy of the covert, and the
peculiar species of game, it would be more useful. There are
many varieties of this beautiful, active, and industrious little
dog, but die best and most adapted for this country is the large
Cocking Spaniel, or Springer, which is found in the greatest;
perfection in Sussex.

This dog, which is probably the original stock of the Setter,
cannot be better described than as resembling a Setter, in the
same degree as a punchy, powerful, short-legged pony, resem-
bles a well-bred horse. It is very strong and bony for its size,
and has great industry, indefatigable spirit, and indomitable cou-
rage— nay ! its faults partake of these latter qualities, as it is
wont to be rash, impetuous, and headsti'ong. One of the great-
est drawbacks to its excellence in England, would not exist in
this country ; I mean its propensity to chase Hares, which
abound in many preserves there to such a degree, that they are
bouncing up at every step, and the Spaniels are yelping and
yaffing after them all the time. Here the Hare is comparatively
a rare animal, and in this respect the temptation of the Spaniel
to wildness, would be very greatly diminished in the United
States, or in Canada.

The head of the Spaniel, and especially the nose, is propor-
tionably much shorter than that of the Setter, the frontal sinuses
more fully developed, the eye larger and more prominent, the
ears much longer and more curly, some so long that they lite-
rally seem as if they were intended " to sweep away the morn-
ing dew."

Their coats are altogether longer, and more curly, the tails not
merely feathered, but bushy, and the legs thickly fringed, even to
the toes.

These dogs are of all colors, but I prefer the Blenheim color,
rich orange and white, with a full moist eye, and coal-black nose
and palate.

They require great steadiness, and constant attention, both in
the breaking, and the hunting when broken ; but firmness, cou-
pled with general mildness, and constancy of temper, with occa-

340 PRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

sional severity, will easily prevail, and render them nearly per-
fect.

As they flush their game immediately, without standing or
crouching, it is absolutely necessary that they should be under
perfect command ; they must never be above ten or fifteen paces
distant from the gun, and they must be trained, until it has be-
come their second natui'e and instinct, to slacken their pace, in-
stead of increasing it, when they strike the trail of game, which
the sportsman will leara by their yelp, or, if they be of the mute
kind, by the redoubled feathering and flourishing of his bushy
tail, and by an occasional low, impatient whimper.

This, and to drop to shot, the instant the gun is discharged, is
all they have necessarily to learn ; although it is a great addition
to their worth, if they are broke to retrieve their game, when
ordered to go on, after having dropped to " charge." This
dropping to chai'ge, of infinite importance with all dogs, is even
more important with the Springer, or Cocking Spaniel, than
with the Pointer, or Setter ; for, whereas the latter are taught
both by their instinct and their breaking, to stand or set their
game, there is some chance that, if they do break in after shot,
they will still point anything on which they may chance to blun-
der, while the Spaniel being broke to flush, if he stir at all, will
indubitably run up everything that crosses his path.

For summer or autumn Cock shooting, for Quail shooting in
heavy covert, and for Ruffed Grouse shooting, I am satisfied
that these little beauties would be invaluable in this country ;
and that in many districts twice as many head of game might
be killed over them, in the same space of time, as over any
other kind of dog.

I have often wondered at the neglect of this variety by sports-
men of this country, never having met but three gentlemen, two
in the States and one in Canada, who used them. I hope to
succeed in importing a brace of highly-bred, and well-broke
Springers, of the large breed, this autumn, and to establish the
breed. Should I be fortunate in my endeavors, it will be a
source of much pleasure to me to accommodate sportsmen de-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 341

sirous of trying the experiment with some of the progeny, and
with my best advice and instructions as to their management
and use.

Having thus disposed of the three 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 doers.

o

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 bottoms, that they may be removed, and the
boards scoured beneath, from time to time. They should not be
less than three feet in lenglh, by two in breadth, and two feet
high at the eaves, by three at the ridge. The smaller the aper-

342 FKANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

tirre 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. 343

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 they
should previously be compelled io retire, and none suffered to
approach until so summoned. The feeder sliou d si and over
them, while feeding, with a switch, and ihe firs growl, or indi-
cation of an attempt to quarrel, should be punished wi;h asmai't
cut ; any voracity, in like manner, can be checked or mode-
rated by a word ; and if any dog ea: so ravenously, as to get
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, as 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 battle 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 services 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 snow, or in marshes, a good wheaten straw bed is the

344 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 Pathology, asks the fol-
lowing question, and proceeds forthwith to answer it.

" What is the best food for dogs ? 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 tearing 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 adapted 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 caninee, which is known to be by choice wholly camivo-

UPLAND SHOOTING. 345

rous, principally lives by tho exquisite sensibility of bis olfac-
tory organs. If tbc eating of flesh really bave such an effect on
sporting dogs, it can only do so, when it haa been taken in such
quantities as to vitiate the secretions of the body ; and in this
way the pituitary mucous secretion of the nasal sinuses may
themselves become somewhat tainted.

" A mixture of animal and vegetable substances is therefore the
most inopcr general food for dogs, and that which best agrees
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
drawn from the natural state of the canince, or from the habits of
the fox, since it is too notorious to inquire 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 then 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, particulaily 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 are vitiated, and probable,
moreover, that the health of the animal is in some sort affected
likewise.

That flesh is necessary to dogs, I will not, however, deny ;
and it is my opinion that, during the dead seasons of the year
when there is no field work to be done, except exercise, flesh
may be given not only without detriment, but with advantage.
Raw meat tends, unquestionably, to give a dog both strength
and ferocity ; ant1 the latter is so nearly allied to endurance,
and what is commonly called pluck, that we can scarcely encour-
age the one quality, apart from the others.

I would therefore feed dogs, while getting them into condition,
on flesh — and I would not even object to raw horse-flesh for that

346 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

purpose — 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 heut 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 porridge. 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. 317

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 well to observe that vegetables of almost any kind,
as potatoes, 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,
without flesh, and I never saw dogs stouter and finer in
condition.

Dogs should be supplied freely, if kept chained up in cities,
where they cannot procure their natural herbaceous emetic,
with the common dog-grass, or queech-grass, triticum rcpens ;
and where this cannot be obtained, should occasionally have an
emetic given them, consisting of tartarized antimony — emetic
tartar — from one to three grains, in proportion to the size of
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
small teaspoonful to one and a-half, in proj)ortion 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.

When dogs have been very fat previous to the 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
service 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,

348 frank forester's field 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 sportsmen ;
indeed, it is of infinitely more importance than is generally im-
agined. 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 his 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 words
to be in full condition also ? It is notorious, that Pointers, Set-
ters, and Spaniels, if they are what is termed foul in their coats,
never have their scent in perfection. It must be equally evident
that, unless they are ' in wind] they cannot range with speed
and durability ; and without some previous training, it is impos-
sible they should be so. Those persons, therefore, who expect
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 matches or for simple 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 beginning 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 more than equally impor-
tant in coursing matches; where a dog has two competitors to
beat, the Hare and the other dog.

" The manner of getting dogs into condition is very simple, 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, aud
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 in
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. 349

either consists in reducing the animal from* too full and soft a
Btate to one of firmness and less bulk ; or it consists in raising
alean and reduced dog to lustiness, hardness, and vigors 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 increased 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 curry 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 fat into solid flesh, but very difficult to raise leanness into muscle, and
preserve hardness at the same time.

350 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

alterative in the chronic asthmatic 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 pre ventive 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 fistulas, and also affords encourage-
ment to the breeding of worms. Medicinal laxatives are nu-

PPLAND SHOOTING. 85]

merous. Epsom salts — sulphate 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 being increased if those mentioned arc not found suf-
ficient: but as these directions are intended to meet the tender
pet of the drawing-room, as well as the strong inhabitant of the
kennel, so it is prudent to specify the minor dose : more may
be added, but it is too late to subtract when too much has been
given.

"Purgatives 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 salivation. Aloes form 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
mors than two drachms : I have given three to a strong New-
foundland dog without extreme catharsis; but as before ob-
served, dogs differ much in their different habits, and it is there-
fore most prudent to begin with a dose too small than too
large : hundreds of dogs are every year destroyed by temerity
in this particular. Whenever 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 hurrying the undigested food
into the intestines, where it might form such an impacted and
vol. i. 25

352 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

obstructing mass as could not be overcome : it is prudent to
place before the 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, worms, 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 lan-
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.

CJPLAND SHOOTING. 353

The pulse of the dog may he 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 he taken as the usual number for the
former, and 120 for the latter, whatever is found much to exceed
this may he ascribed to the inflammatory state.

The following hrief rules 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 term 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.

Whatever 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
habit.

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 various, that it is not easy to set before the reader

354 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 ;
though at times the discharge does not appear, or is quickly
arrested, and followed by convulsions, which usually terminate
the affair very quickly.

When the symptomatic epilepsy of distemper occurs, if the at-
tack can be arrested with the occurrence of a single fit, the dog
often recovers, but if one is followed by a second, the case is
usually hopeless.

The virulent or putrid type of the disease marked by a bloody
and fcetid 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 merciful 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,
with 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 vary
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 pulse 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. 355

The best emetic is
Calomel, . . J gr. Tartarized antimony, . J gr.

This formula is for the smallest dog. The largest m;iy require
of each 2 grains.

After the bowels are cleansed and the body thus depleted,

]£. Antimonial powder, 2, 3 or 4 grs. Nitrate of Potash, ."), 1U or 15 grs.
Powdered ipecacuanha, 2, 3 or 4 grs.

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
Foxglovo 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 thing like active purgation.

In case of diarrhoea supervening,

I£. No. 1. — Powdered 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, pro re nata.
If this does not suffice,

I£. 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, p. r. n.

In case of epileptic 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
one, in a spoonful of ale every two hours.

IJt. iEther, . 1 dr. Tincture of opium, . £ dr.

Camphor, . 6 grs. Spirits of hartshorn, . 1 dr.

Place the dog in a very warm bath for twenty minutes, and keep
him warm and moist by wrapping in wet flannel before the

356 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

fire, for several hours afterward. Give nourishing food, an J keep

quiet.

If chorea or paralysis follow distemper, use the seton as

above, stimulate the spine by rubbing the whole course of it

with tincture of canthai'ides, and as a tonic

I£. Nitrate of silver, very fine, 3 grs. Carbonate of iron, powdered, 2 drs.
Gentian, 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 diarrhoea
sets in, there is no occasion to despair.

I must say, however, that although I have thought it advisa-
ble to insert formulae 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 follows, I would myself kill the ani-
mal as an act of mercy. For 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 worms, 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.

fy. Cowhage — 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. 357

very slight mercurial dose, not exceeding 4 grs. of calomel in
combination with aloes.

POISONS.

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, and when the stomach is appeased, give an opiate
and castor oil. When eggs are not at hand, large doses of soap
dissolved in water may be tiied.

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 epsom salts. If this be reject-
ed, a ball with calomel, 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 by a large teaspoonful of mustard,
or any other strong, spicy stimulant, such as pepper, or the
like, mixed with vinegar.

MANGE.

For common Mange, the following formula for ointment will
be found useful :

No. 1. — Powdered sulphur, 4 oz. Muriate of ammonia, powdered, £ oz.

Aloes, powdered, . 1 dr. Venice turpentine, . £ oz.

Lard, 6 oz., mix.

No. 2. — Sulphate of zinc, 1 dr. Tobacco in powder, . J oz.

White Hellebore in powder, £ oz. Sulphur in powder, . 4oz.

Aloes in powder, . 2 dr. Lard, ... 6 oz., mix.

No. 3. — Powdered charcoal, 2 oz. Powdered sulphur, . 4 oz.

Potash, . . . 1 dr. Lard, . . . . 6 oz.

Venice turpentine, ^ oz., mix.
No. 4. — Sulphuric acid, . 1 dr. Lard, . . . 6 oz-

Tar, ... 2 oz. Powdered lime, . 1 oz.

No. 5.— Wash. — Decoction of tobacco, 3 oz. Decoction of white hellebore, 3 oz.
Oxymuriate of quicksilver, 5 grs.

With all these applications a fine wire muzzle must be used
to prevent the dog licking himself, as if he do so he will infalli-

358 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

bly perish from the strong poisonous properties of the remedies.

For red mange, to any of the formula, 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 qaicksilver, iEthiop's mineral, 1 oz.
Supertartarate 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 warai and dry, and feed on vegetable diet.

OPHTHALMIA,

Whether arising from cold, or external irritation, as scratches,

thorn- 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,

Sulphate of zinc, . 1 scrap. Weak infusion of elm bark, G oz.

Brandy, one teaspoonful.

SORE FEET.

" When dog's feet become sore by travelling it is common to
wash 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 Mr. Blaine's course of treatment.

UPLAND SHOOTING. 350

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 absurd, 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 rub
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 thorn 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 observes on this point, " In some instances, I
am certain, 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 my subject, as I commenced

360 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 extraordinarily 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, firmness 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 men have the ability, and
eo few of those who have, are willing to give the time or labor
necessary to indoctrinate a dog thoroughly, that it is hardly ever

UPLAND SHOOTING. 3G1

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 point
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 back 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 carried home
the better, and he is, on no account whatever, to be taken out
again, or to see game again, until he is perfectly house-broke.

It is to the vicious plan of attempting to break dogs in the
field, and in the face of game, that the number of wild, worth-
less, irreclaimable 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

362 FRANK FORKSTER'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 word " 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 shai'p 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 be
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 American 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 of prompt and implicit obedience, and the certainty of punish-
ment 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. '6iY.>,

This clone, several young Jogs 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.

Observe, 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 droj>ped, or
thrown, till he is perfect.

Thereafter, he is made to down-charge first of all, when it is
thrown, 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

364 FRANK 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 performs 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 a perfect dog, who
'v& 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. 365

If hunted with knowing old dogs, puppies will soon rome to
depend on them entirely; will follow them, and watch their
every motion, and never learning to heat their own ground, or
find 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 regai-d to practice and management in the field, there is
little or nothing to be said, beyond what I have already laid
down, passi?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 after 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. When
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-

366 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS.

rage their hurrying. Never mind if they flush one hevy, and
you lose one shot. Be steady, and punish, so that they will not
do so again.

When 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 " down-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 stirring, 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.

I am induced, by some experiments, to qualify my opinions, as ex-
pressed on page 340, in relation to the use of Indian meal as dog food, so
far as to observe that the meal must be old, since, if new, it is too laxa-
tive. Where oat-meal can be procured, I incline to the belief that the
mixture of it -with Indian meal, in equal proportions, •will be found the
best possible dog food.

END OF VOLUME ONE.

504848

BOSTON COLLEGE
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3 9031 01490719 0

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SK

^ HERBERT, Henry William.

iR&L Frank Forester^ field

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33 HER3ERT.

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186^

v. 1

Boston College

Chestnut Hill, Mass. 02167

Bapst Library