An article dealing with the value of pheasants to farmers and with the revenue derived from their rearing as a commercial pursuit
J. A. McMAHON
The driving back from what was but a few years ago “the Frontier” and the country commonly regarded as “open,” of wild birds and animals, is but one of the accompaniments of a progressive civilization, and, though the utter extinction of many species of birds and some animals is to be regretted and their passing away sympathetically regarded, we must apply our philosophy and accept the fact.
Just now a profession is much sought by man, Much more so than most academic degrees; The sign of proficiency is an oil can, And desire epidemic to pay the fees. The desiderata most often required, In class number one, machinist or chaffeur, Are goggles, dust, grime, and a curved back; acquired, A record for racing, I also infer.
When the Great Wolf’s voice booms out of the dark, Ranging far from across a cold world; When the flickering logs fall and burst into sparks That drift upward and swiftly are whirled To the chill of the blizzard’s breath— The thought comes strong with the wild, weird song, What makes the Big Grays do so?
And again yet! Is there anything else coming? If so, let it arrive at once! We are defiant—defiant as Ajax of old when he shook his fist at the lightning and scairt it so bad it’s been on the keen jump ever since. That renegade infant-snatcher, Bud Fisher, has once more hurled the humiliating harpoon of defeat and derision into us and our entire works are howling for revenge.
An Exciting Big Game Hunt in a Real Sportsman’s Paradise of that Land—the Sierra Madre Mountains of Northern Mexico
There is a country on the southwestern border of our Republic which is rarely visited by sportsmen, but which offers excellent opportunities for those who love to hunt big game. Such a country is Mexico. There can be found the jaguar, mountain lion, bear, wild hog and no end of deer and wild turkeys.
On February 25, 1908, His Majesty’s Steamship “Comox,” of fully 100 tons’ capacity, carried me off to Harriott Bay, where we landed on the following afternoon. I proceeded at once to Mr. Smith’s (my guide’s) home, in Quathiaski Cove. The mail had not arrived there for several weeks, and Mr. Smith did not know of my coming.
Wanted—A rider without a stick I’ll bear her to mountains of kinnikinnick; I’ll sing her a song, a melodious wail; She can hang her tar-bucket to the end of my tail; I’ll behave very well—I shan’t act contrary. Believe me, yours truly, Mr. Mountain Canary.
December days are dark and drear, And gray are winter skies; Around the death-bed of the year The East wind moans and signs. The flowers that bloomed upon the hills And down along the coasts, Making small things of our ills, Are nothing now but ghosts.
The day is ended. Gone the sun That rose so bright this morn; The flying hours their course have run And left the world forlorn. The bird-songs ringing soft and clear Are fled into the past; The flowers that blossomed far and near Have spent their charm at last.
Did you ever have the hunting or fishing fever so badly that your everyday work became a drudge instead of a pleasure? If so, let me offer a good remedy. Lock up your office and “take to the tall timber.” If this does not appeal to you, try something which does, only keep in the fresh air!
It is usually the middle of December before real winter begins in Wyoming. After that, there isn’t much getting about, on the isolated ranches, except on skees. The snow falls to a depth of five or six feet on the level, covering brush, down timber and fences so that outside the forests there are unobstructed trails everywhere for skees, and there is no more exhilarating sport in anybody’s country.
Nests of the Alaska sea gulls, as a rule, are found on the precipitous sides of bold cliffs and barren, rocky islands, that are inaccessible to anything without wings. In the summer it seems as though all the gulls in creation come to Alaska to breed.
Rare sport in a country where bears grow numerous, and where they are killed successfully without the aid of dogs
In Washington Waters
To reach that section of the Olympic Mountains around the headwaters of the Solduck River, one goes from Lake Crescent over the horse trail to the Solduck Hot Springs, which is fifteen miles, and from there an old elk trail follows up the river twelve miles into the mountains proper, and as the trail for the entire distance is through a dense evergreen forest, the trip becomes one of monotony when one tires of the beauty of the woods and its intense stillness.
O’erweighting the lean branch it sags and sways, This minstrel-home of four short months ago; Though then warm-bathed in sun-steeped summer days, ’Tis now half-filled with desolating snow. Half-filled!—’Tis not the half thus filled that tells My heart how sad life’s woven story goes, But in the empty half the aching dwells Tenfold more deep than that which haunts the snows.
The first time I ever saw an Indian medicine man was thirty-five years ago and the incident is almost as fresh and vivid in my memory as if it occurred only yesterday. I was one of a party of schoolboys on a hunting trip in Colorado Territory. We were on the plains somewhere between Julesburg and Fort Morgan.
Primeval man, himself little better than the beasts of the forest, was probably extremely cruel toward the snarling creature, half wolf half canine, that gradually came to be known as a dog. But with our advance in civilization, our ideas with reference to this animal and other mammals underwent a complete change and our treatment of them became correspondingly humane.
The photo given herewith of the seine boat “Fredelia I,” shows the very latest development of the gasolene driven fishing boat of the west coast and is a far cry from the old “Pioneer” with her little five-horse engine that opened the eyes of fishermen some five or six years ago as she demonstrated that it was a money making game to propel seine boats with engines instead of by hand.
Our illustration shown herewith is the harbor work boat “Telegram” operated at Seattle by Captain Roy Lillico, her owner. She is 42 feet over all, 11-foot beam and carries a 20-H.P. Frisco Standard engine furnished by Sunset Boat & Engine Company Her speed is 11 miles per hour and she has pilot house control, being handled entirely by one man.
We give above the lines of the gasolene passenger boat “Falcon” now running between Bellingham and Anacortes regularly. She was designed by L. H. Coolidge of Seattle and is owned by the Anacortes & Bellingham Transportation Company. She is 85 feet over all, 15-foot beam and draws 4 feet.
The accompanying picture of the “Carnation No. 1” is the first ever taken on the Pacific Coast of a stern-wheel gasolene river boat. This vessel is 66 feet over all, 14-foot beam and carries a 50-H.P., 3-cycle “Frisco Standard” engine furnished by the Sunset Boat & Engine Company.
L. W. Stevens of Bellingham has a new 22 foot speed boat—power unknown. Harvey Loop, Bellingham, has a new 14-footer, 5-H.P., Waterman for use on Lake Whatcom to save pulling his fishing boat with oars. R. E. Trafton, Anacortes, is building a 71-footer to carry a 54-H.P. Buffalo.
Washington is going through the same old experience again this year with the game law business. A lot of fellows want the laws changed so the Governor can appoint a state game warden and deputies, which would certainly be a beautiful political machine for the party in power and enable the governor to pay a lot of political debts at the expense of sportsmen who pay for shooting licenses that would in turn be paid out as salary to political game wardens, who, of course, wouldn’t care a whoop whether any game was killed or not so long as their salary went merrily on.
For the past seven years it has been well known to all intelligent riflemen as well as to the Ordnance Department of our army and to most foreign nations that with smokeless powder high velocity rifles there must be a perfectly gas-tight fit between bullet and bore before firing if it is desired to avoid inaccuracies due to incorrect centering of the bullet in the bore, and gascutting, that form of barrel erosion which so quickly destroys the accuracy of the best barrels.
Ask the average man, even nine out of ten readers of this magazine, “What is the path of a bullet?” and he will most likely answer, in substance, “Why, a curved line from the muzzle of the gun to what it hits.” By this he means a path that we can very well represent to the eye by a bent trout rod—that is, an even or steady curve— to use non-technical terms—all in the same vertical plane.
’Twas only yesterday we met, But that won’t matter, dear Susette, For you must come and dwell with me In the village of Blueberry. My cabin’s snug and tight and warm, All chinkéd up from sleet and storm; And scattered over all my forty, There’s chip and chunk in great majority.
The following letter has been sent by Secretary A. S. Jones of the National Rifle Association of America to twenty countries, namely: Argentine Republic, Australia, Austria-Hungary, Belgium, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, France, Germany, Great Britain, Greece, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Netherlands, Norway, Spain, Sweden, Switzerland and Russia:
Show me the boy who is not ambitious to own a rifle—not a toy or a popgun, but a real rifle with which he can shoot at targets and thereby acquire a proficiency that later will enable him to follow the trail of the mighty Nimrod and learn to kill game like Dad “uster.”
A mountaineer lay dying on his tattered blanket-bed, Where the pine trees cast wierd shadows ’round about his snowy head, And his partner sat beside him, clasping close one horny hand, As the dying old trail-maker journeyed toward the Shadow-land.
In your October issue J. E. Taylor asks for experiences from seekers after an “all-round” gun. Five years ago I decided that the .32 Special offered the widest latitude in loads, while giving the greatest satisfaction, all things considered, of any caliber.
The following clipping I cut from the “Odds and Ends” column of our daily paper, the Danbury Evening News. If some of the gun cranks of the arms and ammunition department are not satisfied to kill their game without blowing it to pieces, let them get some of these bullets.
The Du Pont Company’s Stand on Pyrocellulose Powder
Editor Outdoor Life
Lieutenant Townsend Whelen’s article in the October number of Outdoor Life will no doubt strike a responsive chord in the heart of everyone who shoots a rifle, whether it be a target, military or hunting rifle. For who is there who does not want his pet barrel to last for as great a number of shots as possible?
H. C. Hilliard, Reynolds, N. Dak.—Is the action of the 1893 model Marlin as strong and reliable as that of the model 1894 Winchester? Is the .25-36-117 a very accurate cartridge, and what is its accurate range? Do you think there would be any practical difference between a carbine of the above caliber and that of the regular rifle with the 26" barrel as to range and accuracy?
TRAINING, HANDLING, CORRECTING FAULTS AND CARE OF THE BIRD DOG.
ED F. HABERLEIN
B. M. G., Eufala, Okla.—I have two Irish setter puppies which I have been training under your system, but have used a plain collar instead of a force collar, thinking it too severe and might cow them, as one is rather timid, anyway. They are 6 and 8 months old.
M. Lesieur, Paris, France: I saw in your October number, the answer of Mr. John W. Swift, Los Angeles, regarding the possibility of withholding empty shells for the .351 cal. Winchester rifle. I do not see why the American cartridge manufacturers refuse to sell empties for this rifle, when they send those shells perfectly empty to France, where there is a “gun powder monopoly,” which does not allow the import of foreign powders.
He was only a fair-haired boy, with the trust of the world in his eyes— Eyes that were pure, and true as truth, and that held the deep blue of the skies— Rough and hard was the camp in those days, with the recklessness of sin— And men gone wild with the hopelessness of the dreams “that might have been.”
During the month of August we received a bottle from Clay C. Blough of Fraser, Colo., containing the viscera of a trout supposed to be infected with tapeworm. We referred the specimen to Dr. David Starr Jordan of Stanford University, Calif., who in turn referred it to Prof. Henry B. ward of the University of Nebraska, who has given us a very comprehensive analysis of the worm.
It will be just twenty-eight years this coming spring since “Old Man” Jackson, as he was familiarly called, and his brave son, were foully murdered by Indians near Meeker, Colo. The readers of Outdoor Life will recall the Meeker massacre, which occurred a few years previous to the incident I am about to relate.
I am sending you enclosed a sketch of a knife that is used very much in Australia. I have one that I have been using for the past five years, and wish for nothing better for skinning is 6 inches. The steel is thin and pliable like spring steel, which I find is far more practicable than the heavy, thick, bayonet-like hunting knives that are generally to be found in the hardware stores carrying sportsmen’s goods.
Concerning the article in November Outdoor Life about “fake” stories published by newspapers, will an old newspaperman be allowed to make a few remarks? As usual the poor devil of a reporter and the worse be-deviled editor comes in for what is in no way his fault.
In reply to Paul G. Ward’s article on snake-bite treatment, I wish to say, “good,” except, better be careful of strychnia; taking 1-60 gr. every twenty minutes until four are taken, as in some cases with valvular disease of heart, may result fatally, through over-stimulation.
Mr. Whitney’s Champion Litter May Have Been Beaten
Editor Outdoor Life
In looking over the October number of your valuable magazine I find, on page 479, under the heading of “Champion Honors in Puppy Litters,” a letter by Mr. Albert Whitney of Colorado, who says he has a bitch that has just given birth to seventeen puppies.
Two tender ducks were fighting, In manner angrily, Each hurling hateful phrases Of cutting repartee. Said one, “Your feet are tiny, I notice by your tracks.” “Oh slush,” the other answered, “You’re nothing but a quack.” Said one, “Your jokes are tiresome, You really make me sigh.”
In this issue we publish a letter from a sportsman-game warden, Mr. J. M. Woodard, on the deer situation in Colorado. His letter is worthy of the careful thought of our best citizens. Mr. Woodard’s words are those of hundreds of others that have come to our desk.
I wish to ask through Outdoor Life, for the experience of some who have built blinds for duck shooting on an open lake. We have a lake that is about six miles long and two wide, with but very few rushes in, and only on the edge can those be found. The ducks and geese are very plentiful here (Redfield, S.D.), on their spring and fall flights, but always fly the center of the lake.
In your November number there appears an article by Brent Altsheler in regard to the shedding of the horns of prong-horned antelope. There seems to be a great many people, even old hunters in the West, who are not sure the antelope ever shed their horns, and they point to the fact that the old cast-offs are never found lying around as those of elk and deer are, and that they never saw a full-grown male antelope without horns.
I am sorry that Mr. Brent Altsheler has missed seeing some important testimony regarding the doings of lions in British East Africa. His article in the October Outdoor Life, entitled “Fiction and Natural History” requires notice, in the interests of the facts in the case.
In the June number of Outdoor Life I notice a criticism by Brent Altsheler of an article by Fred S. Merrill, which appeared in the March number of your magazine, under the title, “The American Elk.” Evidently Mr. Altsheler did not read the article very carefully before making his criticism, else he could not have gotten so far off the track.
One of our subscribers recently asked us for information as to about the time of year bull elk begin and cease bugling. Feeling that an old elk hunter would be able to give a more definite answer to this query, we submitted it to Mr. Ned Frost of Cody, Wyo., with the following result:
If you have room in your valuable magazine, I want to say a few words concerning the game situation in our state. And what I say is not from hearsay, but from my own personal observation: I left my home with my wife September 14th, determined to be in the slaughter and learn the true condition as nearly as possible, which I am sure we did.
Trophies Desired for the Alaska-Yukon-Pacific Exposition
Editor Outdoor Life
The state commission is going to make an exhibit of live game during our forthcoming exposition in Seattle. They want specimens. Can they not get help through your valuable magazine? A great many people own specimens who, no doubt, would be glad to help us out.
In reply to Mr. Sam Stevens, in October number of Outdoor Life, asking if “buck deer bellow or roar when fighting,” I will give my experience. In the early days, my hunting grounds were in the sand hills on the headwarters of the Middle Loup River, northern Nebraska.
I have just finished reading your magazine for October, while on my annual return trip from Alaska. I was very much interested in the truthful description of the Alaska silvertip grizzly bears given by Mr. L. L. Bales. I concur in his statement, as all brown bears I have killed in Alaska have been brown silvertips.
In Olalla Cañon, twenty-seven miles west of Roseburg, Ore., the latter part of September, George Buxton was killed in a battle with a large buck deer, which he had wounded. The deer had been shot. Buxton’s body was found horribly gored by the animal’s horns.
On page 560 of the November issue of Outdoor Life the editor, in his comment on the prong-horn antelope, states that female antelope do not have horns. He is certainly in error regarding this as they do have horns, perhaps not every one of them but at least the majority do.
HEALTH AND HAPPINESS. By Rt. Rev. Samuel Fallows, D.D., LL.D.; 12mo.; $1.50 net. A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago. When one-half the public is declaring its belief in apparently miraculous healing by one form and another of treatment, and the other half refuses to accept the testimony even of the patients themselves, seekers after the truth will take hope and comfort in this book, which discusses the whole subject from a new and sane standpoint, and is addressed to the demands of every man and woman of common sense.
Enclosed find a photo of a buck deer which got caught in a barbwire fence while jumping over it, which may be of interest to some of your readers. The photo was taken on top of Trinker Mountain, El Paso County, Colorado, August 26, 1908. One of the hind legs had fallen off when discovered, but I tied it up with a cord to make the photo.
Enclosed you will please find photograph of a deer head mounted by me. I send you this photo so that some of your readers may tell me what causes this extraordinary growth of horns. The deer was killed about September 10th and the velvet was firm and solid on the horns and dried in good shape.
I am enclosing you a photo taken of two fish which were taken from Bantam Lake, Connecticut, alive, in the condition shown. We were coming down the lake in a launch, with boat alongside, when we saw what was at first thought to be balt disturbing the surface, but on coming nearer it proved to be the fish struggling.
Nowhere in America are automobiles blessed with more favorable all-round conditions for their sport than in Colorado. Sunny skies, sandpapered roads and scenic mountain fastnesses all conduce to make the Centennial State the peer of all her sisters in this respect.
The owner of a Winchester take-down repeating shotgun may have two guns for a little over the cost of one by using interchangeable barrels. For instance, if his gun is fitted with a 30" or 32" full-choke barrel for trap, duck or chicken shooting, he may also have an interchangeable 26" or 28" cylinder-bore barrel for shooting quail, partridge, woodcock, etc.
Probably no other concern in the manufacture of knit goods shows the same progressive spirit so apparent in the methods of the Blauvelt Knitting Co. of Newark, N. J. For example, it is the first company in the manufacture of knit goods to put out a trademarked article.
The 1909 Bristol calendar, from the Horton Mfg. Co., Bristol, Conn., makers of the wellknown Bristol fishing rods, is a genuine surprise this year. It is a lithographed reproduction in colors of a painting by Oliver Kemp showing a young couple out bass fishing on a lake.
Manufacturers and jobbers all over the country are beginning to receive the benefit of deferred or held up orders; also many are opening up new avenues of trade. The demand for 3-in-1 the last few months has increased wonderfully. Just recently they shipped an entire carload of 3-in-1 to San Francisco to take care of the immediate Pacific Coast requirements.
Mr. W. F. Kendrick, of the Kendrick Pheasantries, Denver, has received the following letter from the Governor of Colorado regarding the philanthropic work which has been done by Mr. Kendrick with regard to liberating these birds in our state:
At Council Bluffs, Ia., Tournament, Nov. 16-17, Capt. A. H. Hardy, shooting Peters factory-loaded shells, won third general average, breaking 388 out of 400, with a run of 139 straight. W. C. Richard of Cody, Wyo., recently killed a fine elk with six points, at a range of 700 yards.