IN THE spring of '98 I had a line of bear traps out in the Cabinet range of mountains in Northwestern Montana in Flathead County. A couple of mining engineers, friends of mine, who were located at Libby at the time, expressed a desire to make the rounds to the traps with me some day when I thought the prospects for getting a bear were good.
THERE are very few places in the United States where deer may be run with hounds, but fortunately, the laws of this state allow this mode of sport to be carried on in all counties bordering on Puget Sound. In most parts of this state and also of Oregon lying west of the Cascade Mountain range, it is almost impossible to successfully still hunt deer, for certain reasons.
Thro’ woods aflame with color, Gold, crimson, violet, blue, Where rays stream thro’ the mazes Of purple mists and hazes I stray—and dream of you October’s golden glamor Enwraps me in its Spell: I whisper and you hear me, Your spirit hovers near me, I sigh—but all is well.
EVERYONE who can go to the woods has before this, or is now getting ready for his fall outing. Each has builded his castles and seen himself returning ladened with trophies of the chase, trophies which if properly cared for will be a delight and an ornament for the rest of life.
AGES ago huge reptiles flourished in the marshes of an inland sea, whose shores are now parts of high mountains and plains in Wyoming; they lived and died as most wild creatures, waging war on each other, preying on their weaker neighbors, and suffering injury and death as do men, beasts and birds to-day.
IT HAS been my good fortune for several years past to spend a week or thereabouts, each fall, hunting deer in the Long’s Peak country. My companion on these hunts is a hunter well-known in that section and who from a perfect knowledge of the ground, can generally find game on pretty short notice.
WHILE I have participated In a great many exciting hunts in quest of big game in Colorado, there was one star day’s sport in my hunting history that stands out from the rest in the magnificence of its brilliant accomplishments. It was in the early ’80s that I had the pleasure of a day’s hunt never to be forgotten.
Thet dog hain’t got no pedigree, Er ef he has it’s lost; But lots o’ dogs uv high degree Ain’t wuth more’n half their cost. Depends on what you want 'em fur? Well, yes; thet I’ll admit. You’d call thet dog a “common cur?” He’s jest chock full uv wit.
THERE were four of us; Herbert. Dad. myself, and—the cook stove. Yes, that sheet-iron, dog-house of a stove I consider of importance enough to name as one of the party. We took our leave from Denver over the Denver & Rio Grande to Rifle. All we had in the way of outfit were a tent, bedding, guns and ammunition, fishing rods, and a grip each.
OF ALL the game animals of North America, none is held in higher esteem by the sportsmen than the moose. The pursuit and capture of this lordly tenant of the north woods is regarded as the acme of all the pleasures familiar with the sportsmen fraternity, and with them there is no other achievement to be compared to it.
ABORDER country is seldom beautiful. The long buffalo grass may wave gracefully in the never failing breezes and the streams run swiftly onward, but there is generally an evenness to the plains that make them painfully tiresome. A level prairie where one can sit on a summer’s eve and see the small frontier town ten miles away, may be a novelty at first, but those who have spent a lifetime on these wind-swpt countries will tell you there is nothing more monotonous.
WE WERE perched on the limbs of a fallen cottonwood—Jack an I —where a noisy little Southern river rested in a deep pool. Our minnow pail floated in the water beneath us and was held by a cord. Three black bass and two giant crappies tugged at the stringer which held them.
AS I SIT in my office this morning I look out and see a flock of ducks winging their way northward against a heavy wind. It calls back memories of long ago when I used to take a hand in the pass shooting, pulling down the sky-scrapers with my trusty old AY.
Many pictures are thoughtlessly titled to their great detriment. In one of the August magazines there is a picture bearing as a title the following quotation: “In ripening summer the full laden vales Give prospect of employment for the flails.”
Looking back over the vista of more years than I care to enumerate, to the days when electric lights, Pullman palace cars, hammerless shotguns and smokeless powders were not; when matches were an unknown quantity in most hamlets—necessitating a journey of miles quite frequently in order to borrow a brand from some neighbor’s fire—and fishhooks, even, were so valued a possession that they were wrapped up in greased woolen cloths and kept in the clock case, I cannot help but make comparisons between the then and now, and note what an almighty good time of it the present generation is having.
Another charming writer on field sports has followed our beloved Nessmuk (George W. Sears) across the great river from whence none return. Nathaniel H. Bishop died at his home in Glens Falls, New York, early in June, in his sixty-first year.
It will soon be the meeting time of our various state assemblies, and before the convening of these bodies some attention should be given to those subjects by our sportsmen which will tend to better the condition of our present game laws. We have in mind one thing which is needed to bring about better results, especially on the Pacific coast.
With much regret we learn of the death, on August 22d, of a well known sportsman contributor to our columns, Mr. A. Sidney Doane of Waterlily, North Carolina. He was a writer of much ability and a man valued by his friends as a sportsman who lived up to the best sentiments of the fraternity.
The news of the Ohio man who has built himself a four-mule “shooting box” on wheels, has acted on the speculative tinder of some of the old-time sportsmen as a spark from the bowl of a campfire pipe. There has been a great flare in the memory tinderbox, and some thereby have caught glimpses of the future.
Through an error, this magazine last month in its synopsis of game laws of western states misquoted the Arizona game laws in several particulars. As passed by the Twenty-first Legislature, and approved March 19, 1901, Arizona’s game laws now stand as follows:
Denver, Colo., August 12, 1902. I noticed an article in the June Outdoor Life under the heading “Musings of a Mossback,” abusing the rainbow trout. Not satisfied with that, he comes back in the August issue with another roasting against one of the finest varieties of trout we have; in fact, I have never heard of but one variety to excel him in fighting qualities—i. e., a species caught in Canadian waters, and I am sorry to say that it has never been my good fortune to be in their vicinity.
The experience of a party of gunmen on the Wabash River, recently, shows that if a man has a fast boat and gasoline enough he can kill half the ducks between a river’s head and its mouth. It is not. known who discovered the scheme, but he is entitled to some recognition as a champion butcher, says the New York Sun, with the sentiment of which expression we are heartily in accord.
A visit among the big game camps of Northwestern Colorado at this time of year is not without its significance and interest. It demonstrated to the editor this year two things. That the big game of Colorado is on the decrease, and that the hunters are decidedly on the increase.
Drs. W. B. Dorsett and E. J. Neville are two of St. Louis’ most prominent surgeons, who enjoy duck hunting to such an extent that the fiercest storm or the most unfavorable conditions have no terrors for them. In order that no other portly duck-hunting readers of our magazine may be caught in a similar predicament we append the following account of Dr. Neville’s valorous rescue of Dr. Dorsett, while the latter was tightly encased in a barrel duck blind in Buck Lake, near St. Louis:
Three bears is the record up-to-date this season for Arthur Bates, a sixteen-year-old boy hunter living at Basalt, Colo. The English sportsman has little use for decoy ducks, preferring to use instead “call ducks” (semi-wild ones), which are claimed to be of better service.
Warren Gilbert, Higginson, Ark.—What makes a good load for quail shooting in a 16-gauge, reloaded shells, with both black and smokeless powder? What is the best smokeless powder to use? Answer.—In regard to what is the “best” smokeless powder to use, it is somewhat difficult to say, as each shooter is inclined to think his favorite brand the most proper, and no doubt for him it is.
At this period of the year, which comprehends the time immediately preceding and following the opening of the shooting season, sporting dogs, whether at full exercise as in the first instance, or in full work as in the latter, are more than likely to suffer from foot soreness.
We notice that our two sporting literati, the one of Cincinnati and the other of Chicago, are still, as of yore, on the lookout for a weak spot where a sharp thrust would most likely be felt; he of Cincinnati seems to be quite a thorn in the side of he of Chicago.
A writer in the American Field, who has had a considerable experience with hunting dogs, has the following to say on the subject of retrieving: “The subject is one on which I have thought a great deal, and have had some little experience. That it is not advisable to let a dog retrieve during his first season, I will admit most readily, as there can be no question that at that time his stanchness will be likely to suffer if he is allowed to do so, but when a dog is thoroughly broken and under control, allowing him the pleasure— for it surely is one—of bringing the bird in seems only the natural and proper reward of his good work in finding and pointing it.
A legal decision lately handed down says: “Any dog has a legal and undeniable right to bite any man, woman or child who Purposely and with intent to disturb said dog’s tranquility and peace of mind does attach or cause to he attached to said dog's tail a tin can.”
Late reports from France have it that there Is much sentiment aroused in the rural districts against the high speed maintained by the average chauffeur along the public roads outside the cities. Leading Paris papers have frequently sounded notes of warning as to the danger to the future of automobiling as a sport lying in these express-train exhibitions.
Automobile clubs in the East have taken a stand which seems likely to remove the bit of prejudice existing at present against the "devil wagon." They have gone in enthusiastically for good roads and are making preparations to carry the fight into their respective legislatures with a vengeance.
Edward VII. of England is an enthusiastic automobilist. Some fifty motor vehicles have been shipped to Manila. P. I., to date. An automobile mail service has meen Inaugurated between San Juan and Ponce, Porto Rico. The Electric Vehicle Company of Hartford, Connecticut, is to manufacture the Law gasoline vehicle, with Fred A. Law. the inventor, in charge of that department of the company’s works.
The seventh annual tournament of the Colorado Rifle Association was held at Central City late in August, and was deemed by many to be the best attended and most successful held for many moons. The home club entertained its guests royally and the events showed much care in their preparation.
Several prominent sportsmen of Davenport, Iowa, have organized themselves into an Outdoor Rifle Club and have been making some scores on the German ring target. The following letter, showing some of their work at the score and expression of their enthusiasm regarding Outdoor Life and its mission, has been received:
The souvenir program issued by the Consolidated Sportsman's Association of Grand Rapids, Michigan, for its annual target tournament of September 4th and 5th is a beauty. For one thing, it's a “flyer” that tournament managers should hold a close bead on.
Newbro’s Herplcide Destroys the Dandruff Germ Permanently and Cures Baldness.
THE POLK MILLER DOG REMEDIES.
THE BRILLIANT SEARCH LIGHT.
IDEAL COMPANY'S HAND LOADER.
THE VICTOR COMPANY’S TWENTIETH CENTURY STRIKING BAG.
THE STEVENS’ COMPANY’S NEW LINE.
An English correspondent In the Shooting Times gives a formula for cleaning and lubricating the barrels of fowling pieces which he says has never failed in effectiveness in the dampest climates. Along the west coast of Ireland, he says, where the weather is of the wettest and stormiest description, it holds its own to the exclusion of nearly everything else.