When God created the earth He first made the light and then the darkness. He then made the firmament and called it Heaven; and divided the waters which were under the firmament from the waters which were above the firmament. And then the waters under the Heaven were gathered together unto one place, and the dry land was made to appear, and this dry land was called the Earth.
August is vacation time, so my wife and I left Spokane in the “Blue Goose,” our Chandler chummy roadster, making the trip to our home at Yoncalla, Ore., thru eastern Oregon by automobile. We had a great trip, camping where night overtook us, with plenty of sage hens for meat.
Grizzlies vary in color from almost black to almost white, and some of them, which I believe are mixed with brown bear, are a dirty red except for the straw-colored grizzly tip to the hair—in every case the long, vari-colored claws identify the grizzly.
Jist a-lazin’ round, I ding it, Till it seems I can’t get set Fur t’ settle down t’ workin’ Fur a month er two jist yet. My! th’ sun’s a-shinin’ warmer, An’ th’ fish er bitin’ fine; Tek them new stile rods who wanter, Jist a hick’ry pole fur mine. Say, I know a hole fur catfish Whar th’ bottom’s yallar clay, An’ th’ bank is nice an’ grassy Fur a long an’ loafin’ stay.
Reminiscences of Western Life, Indian Troubles, and the Custer Massacre
Lieut. Geo. H. Quackenbos
Altho well advanced in years I have lost none of the love for all that .pertains to the outdoor life which must be to me now mostly a memory of years ago; yet I have the comfort that the days were when I had my full share in that life which is gone forever, a life my children can never know.
Until the advent of Canada’s newest transcontinental railroad, the Canadian Government Line, the immense region lying above the Upper Ottawa River and extending from the western border of Quebec Province across thousands of square miles of wilderness, absolutely nothing was known of the territory and its mighty rivers, its countless lakes and its wild life beyond hazy rumors penetrating down from an occasional missionary to the Indians, a H. B. Co. factor or the pioneer government officials.
The newspapers have columns day after day telling of the different engagements that take place at the front, hut very seldom do we hear, or see, much attention paid to what is going on back of the front. We hear of half a million men engaged in battle, and we little think of the great preparation that was necessary to bring those half million men into battle.
There was once a mountain, a stream and a pine tree that had lived their lives together in peaceful communion. The stern, unyielding mountain was wedded to the caressing brook, and the pine tree was their offspring. Summers and winters had waxed and waned, and each succeeding season found the constant mountain leaning, protectingly, over the gurgling waters that kissed his rugged sides with rapturous abandon; the odorous pine lifted its proud branches in supplication and homage to the giant mountain, and spread its leafy shade over the life-giving stream.
It is not often that we take the liberty of reproducing a personal letter in Outdoor Life without the permission of the author, but the accompanying one from Chas. Cottar, the big-game hunter of British East Africa, is so chock full of “meaty” information to the sportsman that we shall not feel it necessary to lose the six months’ time necessary to hear from Mr. Cottar before publishing it.
I feel there are thousands of people whose health is at a low ebb who would take a new hold on life by reading this article. Soon after 8 every morning I get to my desk; at noon go across the street for a hurried lunch; along toward 6 o’clock I quit work, not because I am tired, but because I’m hungry—I’m never tired.
I know a road—a long, long road— That leads to Everywhere— O’er virgin soil and meadow land, Thru woods and fields quite rare. It winds among the marshes green, O’er hills and thru the dells— And music on this highway grand Just swells, and swells, and swells.
We made our bed down in the corn patch because the corn had been disappearing pretty fast lately, and we determined to find out where it went to. It was a clear, starry night, but as the moon had not yet come up it was too dark to see anything, so we lay on our pallet looking at the stars and whispering about our expected corn thief.
October 1st—End of Our Bargain Subscription Period
There are several ways to make every one loathe you, and one of the best is to talk about your dog. If your listener is of a polite disposition —or totally deaf —then try the bright sayings of your youngster— the second edition of yourself, of course.
I have been a follower of game animals, as well as articles written about same, for a great many years and have always tried to keep up with the times by having the latest and best arm. I will relate my experience with the gun I consider good enough for any American sportsman shooting big game on this continent.
An Old Sportsman’s Interesting Views on the Game of the North.
Editor Outdoor Life
In the July Issue of Outdoor Life, Mr. John Hope’s criticism of Mr. Ralph Edmunds’s trip seems to me to be very unjust and uncalled for. It is very easy for one to criticise who has no knowledge of conditions in the Far North. In the first place, he speaks of the tons of meat wasted for a paltry $100 paid to the state.
Like Banquo’s Ghost, the Passenger Pigeon Will Not Down.
Editor Outdoor Life
The Rev. S. M. Stratton is not mistaken. There are certainly passenger pigeons in Mexico. Six years I spent in the Country of Mañana, mostly prospecting, camping and hunting, and I have repeatedly seen passenger pigeons and called others’ attention to them.
I am mailing you a copy of a publication in which I have marked a paragraph about bears being classed as carnivorous, or flesh eaters. They are not, and I can prove it. If you should throw them a piece of fresh meat (I mean to tame bears) they will immediately pounce on to it in a gluttonly manner and maul it around for hours and lap some blood from it, but you go out two hours later and you will still find the meat is not eaten.
A cool breeze oozes out of the cobalt blue of the North. The subtle spell of Indian summer intoxicates you and long lines of geese and ducks wing adown the aerial trail to Dixie. I tramp to and fro thru tangled grass and young willows. My dog industriously sniffs the crisp zephyrs and I watch his every move.
On January 10, 11 and 12, 1917, I had a very interesting and hard chase after a big cougar which may be of interest to Outdoor Life readers: On the 10th I found where a deer had been dragged on the crusted snow, leaving hair, and farther on found the horns and a small portion of the skull and about ten inches of the backbone attached, and two of the feet with the legs eaten down close, the large bones being crushed and mostly eaten, which showed it had been done by either a wolf or cougar.
Mr. E. E. Harriman’s request in a late issue for us all to come on with our experiences, prompts this letter. Thirty years ago or more my father and I were hunting in Southern Missouri when we jumped a big buck which father killed. This buck had half of a ball thru the big vein of his heart, and yet the animal was well and sound.
There are approximately 6,000 elks, 7,250 deer, 235 moose, 1,850 mountain sheep, 672 bears and 230 antelopes in the national forests of Wyoming, according to the 1916 census taken by the Forest Service. This shows an increase of 45 per cent in elks, 42 per cent in moose, 26 per cent in antelopes, y2 of 1 per cent in bears, and a decrease of 8 per cent in mountain sheep, in the figures reported for 1915.
Dr. H. M. Beck, our interesting Pennsylvania contributor, is a real connoisseur of deer heads, as he has for years been collecting record heads, both in the white-tail and the black-tail species; his collection by this time must be a very valuable one.
Noting in the May Outdoor Life the statement of Dr. Griffith as to the presence of unusual numbers of coyotes in Northern Canada and Alaska, I write to inquire whether their change of base may have been caused in any degree by the epidemic among the snowshoe rabbits, their favorite food.
Recently we received a letter from one of our readers enclosing a newspaper clipping telling of a hybrid deer being discovered in British Columbia by A. Bryan Williams, provincial game warden of the above-named province. If there is one thing more than another that will cause us to shy over the traces it is a newspaper story telling of an encounter with some wild animal or of a sensational incident in natural history, so we wrote to Mr. Williams, and append his reply — which in this instance, we are pleased to state, confirms the newspaper story:
I am enclosing you a photo of a big deer we secured last season. This deer was a black-tail, and the horns (in the velvet) measured 34½-in. spread. They were so soft that by sticking a knife in them, even at the base, blood would run from them. In the drying, the horns seemed to spring out, for they now measure 38 ins., and they were not sprung a bit in mounting.
Being a reader of Outdoor Life, I just want to relate what I am positive happened here (Ishawooa, Wyo.) four years ago last May. This is a horse story, and the man who told it is known as being honest and truthful: I had made arrangements with this man to breed my mares, and drove them up to his ranch (about three miles).
I have a very simple method for keeping mounted big-game heads in perfect condition, which might interest your readers: Every three months the head is taken from the wall and thoroly brushed with a clean brush and a clean, soft linen cloth. Small spaces about the ears are brushed out with an old tooth brush.
Far away from you, trying to do something towards the defense of the paramount cause of democracy and freedom, I welcome my copy of Outdoor Life, and am shocked to read the letter from Mr. Lincoln, whom I have always so highly estimated. I have no time to deal with what he appears to think are arguments, but which seem to me sentimental gush, or to set him right on biology, the Darwinian theory (on which he is hazy), or the hideousness of war.
Enclosed find photo of a number of pelts and a friend who took same in the vicinity of Brecksville, Ohio, with a newly designed trap which was invented by a friend of mine, a Mr. John Sabo. Thought possibly some of the readers who follow a trap line would be interested in the picture.
Mr. Dunham' snake or “fish” story in the July issue of your magazine brings to mind a fight, or rather the finishing rounds of a fight, between a kingsnake and a rattler that I saw May 21st of this year. I was stopping for a few days with my daughter at Varain, Mariposa County,.
My name is Anderson McGill, I love to fish, and hunt, and yarn, And sit at night beside a rill, And care for troubles not a darn. I wander with my hunting dogs, Who shun the cur—and even worse; We rest where litanies of frogs Make music for the universe.
As has already been emphasized, the pike (Esox lucius) is the one cosmopolite of the family. The rodster of Europe and the fisherman of Asia, no less than the angler of North America may take the “mighty Luce or Pike.” Wherever found he is the same solitary, vindictive individual, a cruel tyrant and insatiable gormand.
“O. W. S.” informs me that a number of the boys are asking who “Walton” is. Well, a name is a handle, nothing more, we have it on no less an authority than the Bard of Avon, too. This much I will disclose: I am intimately acquainted with the “Angling Editor,” too intimately acquainted for his own good, therefore which is my protection; you see I could “tell things” if I desired.
Alamosa, Colo., Aug. 29, 1916. I have read numerous fishing stories and have seen lots of fish caught, and yet never became enthused probably because I never tried the art myself until last summer. My husband liked to fish and I would accompany him and prepare the “eats,” usually carrying my .22 Marlin or 20-gauge Ithaca.
Letter No. 351.—Shall We Plant German Brown Trout In the West?
Letter No. 352.—Trout Fishing During High and. Low Water.
Letter No. 353.—What Is the Florida Jack?
Letter No. 354.—What Killed the Trout?
Letter No, 355.—An “Automatic” Float, a Possibility.
Letter No. 356.—“Stone Fly” Nymphs.
Letter No. 357.—Wisconsin Tackle.
Letter No. 359.—Favorite Flies for Western Trout.
O. W. S.
O. W. S.
Editor Angling Department:—As her father came trudging in late one afternoon with his fly, rod and creel, one of her visitors remarked that her Dad must be an enthusiastic fisherman, and here is what her Dad heard: “Is he! On the great Judgment Day I imagine I see Dad with his fly rod, standing before the gates of Heaven.
Maybe trap shooting is the most popular sport in America—maybe it is not. The most popular it certainly is if we are to judge by the number of full-grown people who follow it. We are said to have half a million trap shots of record in these states and a good many more who have not yet shot for a record.
We might easily make this article the shortest on record by merely saying “No,” but that would be defeating our own desires in the matter, even tho it would certainly be very near to the truth and the whole truth. All-around rifle? I should say not!
It strikes me that “Hunter” and Allyn H. Tedmon of Wyoming in the June issue of Outdoor Life are working up a hot trail, and that before long there will be blood and cut hair on it, as it keeps getting fresher and fresher. Can I take a chance in this “jawfest” on subjects that have interested me long before I ever saw or read Outdoor Life, and that means at least twelve years ago.
Mr. Chauncey Thomas, care Outdoor Life:—In reading this letter I wish you to absorb the contents, and not study the writing, as I am more acquainted with the trigger than with the pen. I am a constant reader of Outdoor Life, and, in my copy for July, received yesterday, I noticed the query of Mr. Haines, and your reply, in regard to Col.
There have been so many inquiries lately in Outdoor Life regarding the remodeling of Springfield and Krag rifles that I feel as if it would be a great help to some of the boys to explain how I remodeled my own rifle, as well as those of several other members of our local clubs.
A Comparison of the Loading of the Different Shotgun Bores.
C. E. CLEAVER
I have an ingrowing grouch which I desire to shoot. If after giving this the up and down you consider the recoil too great put it in the waste paper basket. Shotguns and sixguns have been my hobby ever since I can remember.Shotguns and sixguns have been my hobby ever since I can remember.
We read a great many articles in your excellent magazine relative to revolver shooting, but almost all of them deal with guns of at least .38 caliber, and at present prices asked for ammunition I believe that the shooting of guns of the larger sizes to any extent, is prohibitive to the average gun fan.
As it has been announced that the American forces to be sent to France will be armed with Enfield rifles, considerable interest has been aroused in that arm. Contrary to general conception, the Enfield rifle in view is not the present British service rifle, but a new and vastly superior arm very similar to the Mauser rifle in appearance and design.
MUCH has been said and volumes have been written describing at length the many kinds of baths civilized man has indulged in from time to time. Every possible resource of the human mind has been brought into play to fashion new methods of bathing, but, strange as it may seem, the most important as well as the most beneficial of all baths, the “Internal Bath,” has been given little thought.
I would like to voice a little of a big streak of enthusiasm which I have found growing over the actions of some new sights on a new gun. I don’t know who invented the idea—that is, the general idea—but I saw several of them made and tried out by Mr. A. J. Geskie, who, by the way, is the same A. J. who was men tioned in notes of some speed shooting in the June, 1917, number of Outdoor Life, an expert all-round shooter and the best I have ever seen at wing shooting with a revolver or automatic pistol; in fact, the only man who I have ever had the pleasure of meeting, who could knock an average of three cents out of a nickel at 30 feet in the air—or in other words, who could throw pennies in the air himself and get them with a pistol three out of five at 30 feet.
The publication of an experience which a young friend of mine had yesterday afternoon in shooting a high-power rifle may save some of your readers an unpleasant surprise. He was trying the penetration of the Springfield with the '06 cartridge on a thick iron pipe, and against my advice he knelt down only about 35 feet distant from it for his second shot.
What is the trajectory of the following rifles at 200 yds., also the penetration in pine boards: .30 Remington, .3855 Marlin, .38-56 Winchester, .45-70 Government, .25-20 Winchester, .30-30 Remington, .32 Stevens long rim fire, .25 Stevens long rim fire.
Will you be good enough to answer the following questions pertaining to cap-and-ball revolver which I will describe to you? I will also enclose picture of one that I cut out of your magazine which is quite similar as far as I can see except that the frame on the gun I have is over top of cylinder, same as in other modern revolvers.
I desire to get a gun for the fall shooting and have taken a fancy to the new 1912 16-ga., but as it has only 26 inches of barrel length I would like your opinion as to how it will compare with a gun with 28-in. barrel in regard to range and penetration, and how do you think it would compare with a gun with a 30-in.
By Peter P. Carney. There are a great many persons in this good old United States that incline to the opinion that the baseball “world’s series” is the greatest sporting event of the year. If they could only be gotten out to a Grand American Trapshooting Tournament once, that idea would be smothered—for the grand American Trapshooting Tournament is unquestionably the premier event today in American sporting classics.
In this issue I am going to devote my space for my model dog to the English setters. All the remarks that I have made on pointers in the last issue apply with equal force to the setters, but in addition to what I have said, I wish to emphasize one thing in relation to English setters, among others I am going to describe, particularly in the strain known as Llewellyn, which blood practically runs thru all our present-day dogs—and that is, that more than any other breed this dog has been bred for brains, and more than any other breed they have been skillfully and scientifically bred for brains.
The Border Legion, by Zane Grey; 366 pages; illustrated; $1.35 net; Harper & Bros., New York. Once more the West yields its romance, its varied, tumultuous life in the open, to the spirited interpretation of Mr. Zane Grey. Stories ever new seem to await his choosing and weave themselves into novels big with adventure and splendidly human thruout.