To write anything new of Buffalo Bill is almost impossible. The world has known him for sixty years, three generations have admired him, three generations of children have loved and imitated him the world around, and there is probably not a civilized language in the world that does not contain his name.
In troublous days 'ere yet the empire star Had reached the border on its westward flight, When red men fiercely chanted songs of war And danced in frenzy in the warfire's light, He fearlessly set forth upon the trails Of hostile bands on vengeful slaughter bent; O’er barren plains and through the grassy vales, Keen as the hound dog follows wild game scent, He with undaunted courage, unafraid, Trailed them into their hidden ambuscade.
Few of the one hundred million people of the United States, comparatively speaking, know much about moose hunting, from actual experience. While moose may be found in several states along the Canadian border, and also in Wyoming, and possibly some other states, yet they are not abundant enough to be familiar to many well-informed persons.
Cheer up! Cheer up! There he goes— See the rain-clouds gather; Mr. Robin thinks he knows A heap about the weather. Cheer up! Cheer up! See, they come; Little rain-drops patter— Merry children scamper home, With laugh and jolly chatter. Cheer up! Cheer up! Cheer up! More rain! Silly Mr. Robin; Cheer up! Cheer up! The sun again, Thru the rain-clouds bobbin'.
The one wild herd of buffalo still roaming at will on the North American continent is in Northern Alberta, Canada, above the Peace River on a little stream called the Hay. It is about seven hundred miles north of Banff across an almost impassable swamp country that not more than a dozen white men ever have crossed.
“If you’re fond of ocean angling, and he’s fond of lakes and streams, what’s the use of always wrangling? Why disturb another’s dreams? If his outfit’s plain or nobby, do not criticise the same. Ev'ry angler has his hobby, in the good old fishing game.
You drop down Brule way in the early part of a fine summer season when the whole Northern World seems to be overflowing with goodliness and a pervading sunlight that makes the world of Nature a marvel and a heart's ease. It is up there in the Wisconsin country, and it empties, as it has done for ages, into the Lake of Superior.
One must go to Alaska or the Yukon to get white sheep. I had one from the Yukon, but wanted to add an Alaskan specimen to my collection, so decided on the Kenai Peninsula for my trip in 1916. From New York, as indeed from most points in the United States, the convenient route is to Seattle by rail, thence by steamer —a voyage replete with thrilling interest and grandeur—to the selected Alaskan port.
The record of the Minnesota Game and Fish Department for arrests and prosecutions of game and fish law offenders should be an inspiring one for all our state game departments to emulate. We have on our desk a statement of the arrests, convictions, etc., obtained by this department for the months of September, October and November, 1916, and the figures are almost incredulous.
A mighty city. The ceaseless pulse-beat, the leaden roar, the hopes, the fight, the despair of five million human beings, all this and something more bears down on one, yet sweeps him along in the invisible tide like the waves of a great bell, felt but unheard.
There’s a wild and ferny dell in the wild-wood I know well, Where the speckled beauties congregate to play; Wading down the winding brook, with a winged fly on my hook, I could wile away the hours day by day. Ferny, ferny dell, bubbling brook, and bright blue-bell, What on earth holds more of peaceful, happy bliss?
Letter No. 309—Wants "Amateur Fly-Tyer's Work Bench."
Letter No. 310.—Some Satisfactory Pictures.
Can you tell me where I can secure the Thompson vise mentioned by Halford? What is the best thing in the way of colorless wax for the tying silk? I have been using some I made after McClelland’s recipe, which is yellowish and seems to darken the silk a good deal.
The surface lure is a comparatively modern invention, or rather development of the casting plug. Logically it should be discussed last, because the latest number of the family to appear, but in view of its importance it should be given first place.
While digging amid the English legends regarding this storied fish it may not prove uninteresting to note some of the supposed medicinal properties of the pike. One of the most effective remedies for pleurisies was derived from the powdered jawbones, while the heart yielded up a sovereign remedy for paroxysms.
Ever since the spring of 1915 I have been trying to write you something that would read well in the "Fireside," but have only succeeded in spoiling several sheets of good white paper. However, today I am sending you a few “snaps,” some of which you may be able to use, and am going to tell you in as few words as possible about a May fishing trip.
Let me preface the few remarks I am constrained to make by explaining that I think I understand that the various chapters of “The Book of Modern Tackle” are not published to invite comment from fellow anglers, but to give to all the readers of Outdoor Life the benefit of your experience and experiments in many years of angling, in many places.
A problem which the fish and game commission of Oregon has confronting it at all times is the installation of fish ladders over natural or artificial obstructions in angling streams. The increasing use of our streams for power purposes has of necessity increased the number of dams which have been installed.
A ricketty old man, pioneer of Southwestern Alaska since 1869, among his reading matter came across a book entitled “Our Vanishing Wild Life,” by Dr. William T. Hornaday, a timely note, worthy and praiseworthy work, in which he passed out some very strong medicine.
Will you be good enough to enlighten me thru the columns of your magazine in regard to the prevalence of disease in grouse? I made a very peculiar discovery today, and it may be of interest to you, as well as Outdoor Life’s readers. I was walking along an old and rarely-used skid road in the woods back of my place, when my pointer “froze.”
The Sportsmanship Involved in Using Small and Large-Calibered Guns on Game.
Editor Outdoor Life
I have seen a deer run 150 yards after being shot in a vital place with a .30-30 rifle and which was having its death struggles and agonies when we came up to it, and another one shot by the same party in the same place with a .32 Special, dropped in its tracks and did not live more than a minute or two; but the man with the smaller gun was considered the best sport.
Being a constant reader of your esteemed magazine I always read it from "kiver to kiver" and not seeing anything in it from this neck of the woods I thought I would send a picture or two of our recent goose hunt and tell you about it. To the south of this city (Montpelier, Ida.), some eighteen miles, is what is said to be the most beautiful lake in the West, Bear Lake, twenty-eight miles long and seven to ten miles wide, and as clear and blue as the sky.
I am enclosing three kodak snaps taken of our buck ante lope during his horn-shedding period this fall (1916); that may be interesting to anyone doubtful on that subject, as well as others. The horns were found and placed in a little curio window in L. B. Cox Company’s store in this place (Ozone, Texas) together with those shed last year.
I am a resident of a fairly good duck hunting ground, yet I consider where I live (Scott’s Bluff, Neb.), it is too much populated and everybody is too much of a game sport for a hunter like myself to average very high on birds. At least that has always been the case, and I know that scores of times have I torn myself loose from my cozy bed at 3:30 a. m. and begun preparations for a good duck hunt.
Did you ever see a bear cry? I saw one down in Corduroy Cañon badly wounded, stand up on his hind feet and put his paws over his face and cry like a baby. A bear has lots of sense— more than a great many men that run them with dogs and kill them. I think there is some sport in hunting bears tho, because there is some danger in it.
In our September number (1916) we published a letter from one of our readers, Chester Anderson, telling of a 2,000-pound bear being killed in Alaska many years ago by J. C. Tolman of Seward, Alaska. It was said that the bear weighed, dressed, 1,656 pounds, and that the skin, unstretched, measured 13 ft. 6 in. long and 11 ft. 6 in. wide at shoulders.
In December, 1916, I wrote to Whitehorse, Y. T., for some fur for Mrs. Griffith and received the following: “Fur is scarce here this winter. This season’s catch isn’t going to amount to anything unless it picks up wonderfully from now on.
I would like to ask some questions: Were you forced to face a charging bear of the largest Alaskan species and could choose only between a .32 Special Winchester and a .250-3000 Savage, which would you choose, and why?—T. H. Hughes, Calif. Answer.—If we were facing a charging bear as mentioned, and had to choose between the .32 Special Winchester and the .250 Savage, we believe we would have to do some pretty tall figuring before deciding which gun we should take.
Inclosed find photo of my friend, G. F. O., and self and a string of chickens that we shot near here (Wray, Colo.). We were out but a short time and had some awful good shooting. We registered twenty-four birds in twenty-six shots—not so bad for poor shots.
I have been greatly entertained in the past by reading the writings that have appeared in Outdoor Life, from the pen of Chauncey Thomas. In many cases I side with Mr. Thomas vigorously, and at other times I find myself directly opposite, equally as against some of his ideas.
Some sportsmen there are who go into the hills with a hunting knife big enough to guillotine a rhinoceros, but I have noticed that the more experience they have in the hills the smaller hunting knife they carry. Dall DeWeese, for instance, after making three trips to Alaska designed a hunting knife the entire length of which I don’t believe is over eight inches.
I have just read in your October issue an essay on the emasculation of America by Mr. Thomas. Mr. Thomas says that today America stands before the other nations unarmed and unmanned. He gives three reasons: lack of birth control, keeping alive the unfit and immigration as one reason, failure of democracy, and chiefly in becoming feminine America has become effeminate.
In your January issue I notice a cut of Jim Baker’s meat knife. I am sending you a pencil drawing of an Eskimo meat knife that I got from a native at the Unalaklek village in Alaska in the year 1900. The knife is made of a piece of a saw blade and the handle is made from a piece of walrus tusk ivory.
Since reading a great deal of Brother Shoemaker’s arguments on the question of Nature’s balance, and having followed him up for some time, I have found it impossible to affiliate his reasoning with what information I am able to accumulate. Note that I do not say “facts” because my information may be erroneous.
I am inclosing a picture of some sheep heads found in a large cave in the “Mal Pie” mountains northwest of Magdalena, N. M. There are dozens more of these heads in this cave, which is merely a large crack in the rocks three or four miles long and with several side branches, some of which are dark.
I am figuring on buying an air sleeping bag, and as it requires quite a lot of money (in my estimation) am writing to you to help me out in the matter, as I understand that you have used them for some time past. Now, first of all, is the 25-inch or the 30-inch desirable for the ordinary size person?
Am glad to respond to your cordial invitation to be “one of the boys” for the coming year. Your magazine is all and more than you claim for it, and I find it a great help for my busy days. Am enclosing a photo which will explain my winter work better than words.
Thinking that perhaps the following would be of interest to the Outdoor Life readers, I am sending it to you for what it may be worth as reading matter: Ed Hotchkiss a farmer living on a ranch near Red Lodge, Mont., captured a large chicken hawk in his wheat field on August 19 last year, and after tying a small bottle around its neck which contained his name and address, released the bird, which flew gracefully away in ever-widening circles till he disappeared to the southward.
I would like some information in regard to porcupines. Do they throw their quills when attacked? I have heard some arguments on this question. While on a deer hunt in Tuolumne county, Calif., with H. H. Thompson, he killed a two-prong buck with two quills in his back. As I have never had any experience with a porcupine would like to hear from some deer hunter who has.—W. F. Henderson, Sharon, Calif.
Mr. Chauncey Thomas, that article on page 280 of September, 1916, Outdoor Life, is very interesting so far as you went, but then, don’t you know, there are times when you, Mr. Thomas, as befitting a newspaper writer, can use a whole lot of words and say nothing, and at other times use a few words that are expressive, explosive, effective.
An old-timer dissertates on the six-gun—automatic and revolver—and sends a few humorous darts after the veterans of the bolt vs. lever war.
We are now rounding out our sixteenth year as a member of Outdoor Life’s large family. During this time we have subscribed to other publications of like nature, but, bearing in mind the maxim, “Beware of the man with one gun,” we have gradually eliminated them all, and our undivided interest is centered upon the Old Reliable—more power to it.
The Marble Company Explains the Use of Nitro Solvent.
Editor Outdoor Life
I have read with much interest the various comments in regard to leaving various nitro solvent oils in the bores of guns when they are being put away for any length of time. Believe that this discussion started when one of your readers asked if it would prove injurious to his gun to put it away with Marble’s Nitro Solvent in the bore.
The Savage .250-3000 and the Newton .256 as a Reader Saw Them.
Editor Outdoor Life
During the past year there has been a great deal written about the Savage .250-3000 rifle, its ammunition and the manner in which they perform, both at the target and on game. That they are a success cannot be denied. We have also read a great deal about the .256 Newton cartridge and the new Newton rifle that has been under course of construction for so long a time.
In your December number a Mr. Caswell, who hails from the wilds of Minnesota’s paved streets and electric lights, but who thru the exigencies of war has been transferred to the border and now (Dec. 25, ’16) guards this nation against the murderous attacks of that arch bandit, the motion picture hero and former friend of the U. S., the terrible Villa, takes issue with me as to the merits of the sight and stock furnished by an all-wise ordnance board on our service rifle.
I like to put a box of .38 Specials in my pocket and take the 6-in. Colt to our city marshes. The near end of these marshes is used for trap-shooting, the bay end has a little village of picturesque duck-shooters’ cottages and in between are several miles of fine shooting ground for inanimate targets of the tomatocan class.
Sounds interesting, doesn’t it? Probably most of the readers of this article know that the big guns are builtup affairs. A hard steel is used for the inner shell in order to overcome erosion as much as possible. Over this are shrunk laminations, or layers of softer, tougher material of great tensile strength to withstand the bursting effect of the giant-size loads which it is designed to use.
Have been thinking some of what appeared in two recent issues of Outdoor Life on revolver shooting with a rest. I hardly know whether they are serious or not. Am inclined to think, after reading what Ashley Haines had to say, that it is not all a joke, because he means business all the time—he gives such straight, practical pointers on everything he talks about.
With this mail I enclose two pieces of cottonwood with bullets embedded in same which were fired from a .25-21 Stevens at a distance of twenty feet from muzzle. No. 1 was frozen wood; No. 2 was not. This shows quite a difference in penetration and may prove of interest to readers of Outdoor Life.
I possess the latest Colt, .38 caliber, Police Positive Special revolver. I did not like the coarse sight made on the barrel by the makers, so I held the sides on a small carborundum wheel in my dental laboratory on my motor lathe, and ground the sides down to about the thickness of the point of the back of a pocket knife blade, not sharp, and from the base of the sight up (not the barrel).
I intend to get a .35 cal. Remington, slide action rifle and would like your opinion on the following questions: I may have a chance to get up in our north Wisconsin woods on a deer hunt and would like to know if the factory cartridge is powerful enough for this game?
Trout Lore, by O. W. Smith; 200 pages; beautifully illustrated; $2 net (postpaid $2.10); Frederick A. Stokes Co., New York. Speaking of Mr. Smith and his ability as a fisherman is a great deal like referring to one’s wife—we believe she is the best wife in the world, and we cannot view the question in any other light.
The above message will carry a deep touch of sadness to the thousands of American sportsmen and shooters who have for many years read Bob Kane’s “Gun Department” in the Outer’s Book magazine. He died at his home on March 8, surrounded by those he loved best—and many of them were his shooting friends—in fact, Paul B.Jenkins, who has contributed valuable shooting matter to Outdoor Life, read a letter at his funeral service received from Captain Townsend Whelen regarding Mr. Kane.
As a subscriber to Outdoor Life for many years, I ask your aid and advice regarding my 6-year-old Airedale bitch, whose eyes have gone bad and threaten to make her blind. Some months ago the eyes became inflamed and showed small, rough spots which I took to be scratches received in her mad rushes after game in our dense cover.