WE camped the night of Sept. 24 at Wolf Creek Pass, just at the foot of the mountain, where that day we killed the grizzly bear. The next morning, while Johnnie was out after the horses, he saw what he thought was either a moose or a bear. It was not good daylight and he couldn’t tell for sure, so he came running back to camp.
VERY early one morning (in fact so early I was positive that I had not gone to bed) I could hear—in my very drowsy condition—quite a disturbance in our “kitchen department.” “Everybody out. Flapjacks ready!” This was followed by beating on the bottom of a tin pan.
THE man who has killed his one hundredth wolf or lion or other beast is apt to learn some new trait of character in the next one brought down; and the sportsman who thinks he has seen or heard of all the big heads of deer, elk, antelope, sheep and other game is just as likely to find another that beats all records.
QUERIES frequently appear in various departments of the daily newspapers from women who seek information with regard to suitable clothing for hunting, fishing, hiking and other outdoor sports during the colder months of the year. Often the reply to such an inquiry is either exceedingly conventional or frankly discouraging—apparently written by some lady editor whose knowlNature never did betray The heart that loved her; ’tis her privilege Thru all the years of this, our life, to lead From joy to joy; for she can so inform The mind that is within us, so impress With quietness and beauty, and so feed With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men.
WHERE the Ninnescah horseshoes about a Permian ridge there is a wide stretch in the river and here and there sandbars peep thru the surface of the softly-flowing stream. The river’s course is southeasterly, but an upheaval in the long ago diverted the current sharply towards the south, and for more than a mile the course is straight Another Permian ridge shunts the water hack upon itself, and the river turns due east for a mile, then swings north-northwest for more than two miles, completing the horseshoe.
BACK in the days when the West still was young and untamed, in those days men owned horses, rode horses, stole horses and in a pinch ate horses. Man’s best pal among all living creatures was the horse. Brave to a fault, uncomplaining, and the cleanest of all animals, the horse was the apple of the old westerner’s eye.
I DON’T know just how I’m going about this. I want to tell you of the drums, and I don’t know how. Mostly, nowadays, time passes while I am on the flat of my back in bed; the days are long; there are many hours in each one; each hour is made of so many minutes that one soon loses count—and still, withal, life is so slow in passing that there is time to think—yes, plenty of time, all measured in the ceaseless ticking of a man-made clock, and that is what brings me to the drums.
I STOOD and silent, watched the day's adieu: Her dimming cloak of light she drew about her, and retired. But as she passed, one arm of flame she flung Back to the world, defiant at her fate, Revenging her the night that crept so stealthily, To claim her realm.
CHAPTER IX—MISCELLANEOUS IMPEDIMENTA FOR THE DRY-FLY MAN
OF the minor articles of equipment in which the dry-fly angler is interested, can anything be of greater importance than the landing-net? Think back over your experiences as a trout fisherman and ask yourself whether or not there have been days when you would have gladly emptied your pocketbook of its contents in exchange for a good net?
A timid road came to a creek Beside a field of clover. And waited there for 20 years For me to help it over; They came at last and built a bridge, And the timid road went on. Unmindful of the wasted years, And where it might have gone. Emboldened crossing o’er the stream, It climbed a grassy hill.
that possesses the necessary outdoor flavor, and yet a book of real purpose and lasting worth. Do not carry a frivolous novel or a volume of silly poems. Select something that will fill your mind when the trout refuse to rise, or you are stormbound in some back-country hotel.
Blazing fields of tawny gold Where the poppies blow; Purple mountains, tier on tier, Tipped with virgin snow. Valleys nestling at their feet, Checkered green and brown; Orange groves and open fields, And there a little town. Gleam of sapphire in the West, Where the flashing sea, Smiling ’neath the summer sun, Stretches wide and free.
IT has always seemed to me that this fish has never received its just due from the hands of angling writers and sportsmen generally. Because so common, excuse the word, plentiful, it is often passed by for less worthy and far less palatable game.
I HVAE a secret that I am going to reveal to my fellow-fishermen, that I believe will fill a long-felt want, especially among the salt-water men. I lived on the shore of the Pacific Ocean for many years and did a great deal of fishing with the light 6-foot rods, weighing from 6 to 8 ounces.
Most ingenious of apes from the Neanderthal down, Who can by art and greed Deprive a Salmo Fontanalis, sleek and roun’, Of his essential oxygen need. List’ to an earful of sentiment raw Of the plaint of a ravenous germ. “Some day, some time, within my craw I’ll digest you stem and stern.”
Editor Angling Department:—Can you tell me where I can secure a book that will plainly tell me how to go about fly-building? Those I have secured take too much for granted. By the way, what is “peacock herl?”—R. L., Okla. Answer.—I am unacquainted with a book such as you desire.
IN June, if ever, come those perfect days, days that the autocamper enjoys, the days when the real, honest-to-goodness transcontinental camping trips begin in earnest. All thru the spring this department has been helping, day after day, scores of these cross-continent gypsies.
Autocamping Editor :—Three of us, mother, father and I, contemplate a trip, starting about June 1, to cross the continent, where we intend to stay a year permanently in Southern California. We are absolutely green at the game of motor camping, altho I have done quite some camping otherwise.
THE time is not far past when the man of common income could only think of a vacation. To him it meant luxurious and expensive piazza loafing in some effete summer hotel, hemmed in by convention and where one looks out onto the great out-ofdoors, or it meant hired guiding service and equipment for a canoe cruise or hunting trip.
A CONTAINER which would carry the mess kit, stove and food supply, has not been developed until recently, and the motor camper has been forced to employ his own ingenuity in making up this essential item of equipment. The writer first made a box 20 inches wide, 24 inches long and 10 inches deep, one side of which was hinged; this was equipped with carrying handles on either end, and in touring the box was strapped to the running board and could be detached easily and carried to the camp site and the lid opened for use as a small emergency table.
FLEXIBILITY in powders may be defined as the range of pressure tolerance under which they will burn and behave normally. Black powders have an almost unlimited flexibility, which means that black powder will burn under simple atmospheric pressure or it will permit very heavy pressures without materially interfering with its burning rate.
The steeplejack lights his pipe and goes on painting
Imagine, if you can, a steeplejack 487 feet above the street level. Hanging on by his teeth he is applying a more or less rough and ready coat of paint to a flagpole. Right in the midst of a busy morning’s painting, an adventurous bee buzzes into the picture.
In reading one of article that appears in the April number of your magazine, I noticed an editor’s note, following Askins’ article on the 16-gauge, in which it is stated that the 11/8-ounce load has not been perfected. I wish to set you right on this point.
vice-president of the Ithaca Gun Co., and mayor of the city of Ithaca, has not been “settled” by h s responsibilities, and some high times are pulled off in Ithaca that have had Lou in the background. His friends have learned to look the “gift horse in the mouth” when dealing with him.
THERE is a delusion loose in the land that buckshot can be used successfully for small rifle round balls. Maybe so when the buckshot is new and round, but not after it has been shipped a few thousand miles and chucked around in a canvas sack. Then the buckshot dent into each other, apparently, and the results are anything but round.
FOR years it has been known that some action of powder gases is, at times, responsible for a great increase of breech pressure without a corresponding increase in the velocity of the projectile, and in some cases there have been great increase of breech pressure and an actual reduction in the velocity of the projectile.
THERE are rumors that Ballard rifles will again be manufactured. Whether this famous single-shot rifle will again be made in all models as it was when single-shot rifles were so popular, I do not know, but I do sincerely believe that this rifle, in some of the more generally-used models, will again be available.
I am a regular reader of Outdoor Life, and always turn to Arms and Ammunition first, with special attention to the queries. They interest me most. I believe you are right about the peep sight discussion. I am a little far-sighted and open sights blur slightly for me; so as an experiment I put a Lyman No.
friend of mine has just called my attenion to an article in the January number of Outdoor Life, entitled “Criticism.” I am sure that you are as anxious to obtain the facts in the case as anyone, and I am, therefore, going to set you right upon the point in question.
The earnest desire of the National Rifle Association to get in touch with the great number of riflemen thruout the United States who are not at the present time familiar with the activities of the association, is very plainly in evidence in the Outdoor Small-Bore Program for 1923.
The Man Without Real Mechanical Ability Speaks About Remodeling the Springfield
In Mr. Elliott’s article on “Restocking the Springfield,” in your December issue, he starts out by saying that “anyone armed with a few tools, a little spare time and the love of firearms that is a part of the makeup of the ordinary gun crank, can turn out a stock that is the equal in appearance and certainly superior in fit to the stock of any commercial rifle.”
THE first of the small-game weapons was grandfather's old “Kentuck,” a squirrel rifle of small bore, a barrel so long and weighty that we ambitious youngsters were wont to take turns furnishing a living rest for the other boy to shoot over. The rifle was beautifully made, octagon barrel, silver bead front sight, and German silver crescents, stars, lightning strokes, and the outline of a deer at full speed inlayed in the dark, curly maple of the stock, which ran to the muzzle.
On the morning of March 14, beginning at 1:05 and finishing at 1:29 a. m., Dr. I. R. Calkins, the Springfield (Mass.) surgeon and veteran marksman, set a new record of 247 out of 250, at the Springfield (Mass.) Revolver Club’s range, while shooting competitive score in the national weekly tournament of the U. S. Revolver Association.
Your replies to my question have been so prompt and instructive that I again take the liberty to come to you for advice. I should like to know whether your unfavorable criticism of German rifles includes the Mannlicher-Schoenauer which was made in Austria.
Short notices of new goods of interest to sportsmen without cuts or comments ITHACA GUN CO. New improved single-barrel trap gun, 12gauge only, barrels from 28 to 34 inches long, full choke only. WESTERN CARTRIDGE CO. New high-velocity. 30-30; bullet weight, 150 grains; muzzle velocity, 2,370 foot-pounds; muzzle energy, 1,870 foot-pounds.
In the April issue of your magazine there is an article which advocates the limit of bucks to be killed by one hunter in California be placed at one per season, that deer may not be exterminated in this state, and this opinion is concurred in by the editor.
Steve Elkins is dead! Many a sportsman’s heart will be startled at the above words, for there lived no more intrepid hunter, natural woodsman and congenial companion that he His neck, right thigh and right leg broken, his dead body was found buried under loosely-fallen hay in the big barn of the old Kirkpatrick ranch on the Upper Pine River, near Durango, Colo., on the morning of April 18, by Dick Garrison and Wilmer Wells, fellow-hunters.
The state of Wyoming lost a great opportunity when she failed to pass the game bill sponsored by her sportsmen and fought for so valiantly by Depresentative W. C. De Loney and others at the last Assembly of that state. There were more necessary provisions for game in that bill than in any that has been presented in Wyoming for many years.
I am sending you clippings from two San Francisco papers in regard to a doe being killed with horns. It may be so, but I have to be shown. I should like very much to know what you think of the matter.—-T. H. Wilton, Palo Alto, Calif. Answer.—Such freaks as this sometimes occur.
Texas’ most stringent fish and marine life-protection law, requiring a license of every person who engages in the business of catching or taking marine life from the waters of the state, has been approved by the governor and become effective.
We see a great deal in the sporting goods papers nowadays about the conservation and propagation of game birds and animals, and as good as the articles are, and with the interest that they must arouse, 1 frequently wonder what portion of your readers are doing anything to make the good suggestions concrete and practical.
The Southern California Rod and Reel Club, of Los Angeles, is one of the leading organizations of its character in California, and never lacks the progressive spirit nesessary to preserve and maintain the true anglers’ spirit in that section.
I have decided to send you the accompanying photo of a freak deer head, hoping you may decide to publish it in your magazine. This deer was killed by Bon Manhart of Sedalia, Colo., twelve miles west of Castle Rock, during the last deer season. The deer did not show any injury at all, and evidently was horn a freak.
We have been snowbound for about three weeks, not being able to get to the postoffice at Grand Lake. We have had very heavy snows connected with very heavy windstorms. These formed awful snowdrifts on the road, which is ten miles between my place and the postoffice.
Enclosed is a clipping from one of our local papers which may be of interest to you, aside from the political part. In your opinion, is the salaried hunter better than the bounty system—that is, which will exterminate more varmints in a given length of time?
Every year my pal and I take a canoe trip down the Potomac River from Georgetown, D. C., to Piney Point, Md. For five successive years we have made this cruise, and I thought the boys might like to hear how two fellows who spend fifty weeks in an office manage to live for the other two weeks on land and water, and what they have found necessary for both convenience and comfort on the trip.
The following is a copy of letter which I am sending to one of Delaware’s senators. Inclosed with it are your articles in the February issue of Outdoor Life on this subject. Altho the Bolsheviks, Socialists, etc., may be the moving force behind the anti-pistol movement, I am more inclined to believe that it is the work of a much older and far stronger organization, which attempts to control the state and ruin every country in which it operates.
I am particularly in sympathy with your efforts in behalf of the bear. Within half a dozen miles of where I write lives a man credited with having taken more than a hundred black bears, mostly in traps, and for the profit to be made from bounty, hid t and meat.
In the June issue of your magazine, in a conspicuous place where fishermen and tourists cannot help but see it, will you please caution against starting forest fires? About 12 per cent of the forest fires in this state are caused by carelessness on the part of tourists, fishermen, hunters and autoists.
I have been drawn into a controversy with one of the leading authorities on bird life in this state. The facts are these : Reports have come to my office from sportsmen in and near Twin Bridges, Mont., of a covey of “white prairie chickens.” They maintain that the plumage of these birds does not change with the seasons and that their range is that of the sharp-tailed grouse and not the mountain tops where the ptarmigans are found.
On November 26th I shot a banded mallard drake one mile south of Halstead, Harvey County, Kansas. The band appears to be a home-made affair cut out of aluminum with nothing on it to indicate who might have put it on. I would like to know who is marking ducks in this way and where thev were banded.—V. E. Chesky, Halstead, Kas.
On January 21, 1922, a new world’s record for 25 shots at 20 yards, standard American target, was made by Warrant Officer H. Billingslay, on the France Field Indoor Pistol Club range, France Field, Christobal, Canal Zone, with a score of 247 out of 250, during league matches of the United States Revolver Association.
In the edge of a field, by the side of a stream, ’Neath the grass growing rank by the trail, The Santiam lilies and maiden hair fern Hide the nest of a bob-white quail. The little white eggs, a dozen or more, Hold hopes for the days soon to come, When the brooding mother’s four long weeks Of keeping them warm are done.
We in Colorado need more efficient game wardens. I know many birds, both duck and chicken, were killed unlawfully here (Fleming, Colo.) last fall. I was born on the Platte River south of Grand Island, Neb., living there until seven years ago, and have seen the game come and go.
It seems strange that so little is written or heard about a country that offers such good sport for the big-game hunter as Burma. We have here the Indian elephant, two kinds of rhino, the bison or gaur (Bosgaurus), the banting (Bos sondaicus), tiger, leopard, the Malayan bear (Ur us malayanus), four kinds of deer, being the Malayan sambur (Cervus equinus), the brow-antlered deer ( Cervus eidi), the para or hog-deer (Cervus porcinnus), the barking-deer, or muntjac (Cervus muntjac), and two kinds of wild goats, called serow and gooral.
When you’ve wandered thru creation And you’re feelin’ mighty sad, Maybe thinkin’ of the heydays And the good times you have had, Then your thoughts just turn out yonder And your eyes begin to shine, Just like me when I start thinkin’ Of that little pal o’ mine.
wish to express my thanks for your offer to help fellows get their fishing tackle without any cash —just a few minutes’ work. Am enclosing photo of myself and a string of bass I caught with an outfit won thru your fine Outdoor Life magazine. These were taken in upper Minnesota last fall.
In connection with the widespread publication of a newspaper story about the killing of two or three men by wolves on the north shore of Lake Superior in the Port Arthur country, would say that in reply to my inquiry the postmaster at Port Arthur, Ontario, writes me under date of January 26, 1923: I beg to acknowledge receipt of your communication of the 16th inst., requesting information as to the reliability of a dispatch circulated, in connection with the killing of three men by wolves at Ignace, in the Sturgeon River region of New Ontario.
Captain Ed Gilman years ago was putting out some trout on the site now owned by the Turtle Lake Club in Michigan, when a lumberman, who had been watching him, came over and said to him that he had lived in the country for years and during all that time everyone had been taking the logs and the minerals and the fish and game.
By “Jack” Maxwell, His Private Secretary. To the readers of Outdoor Life I say hello ! Folks, I wonder how many of you have heard of me, the little dog with a million friends. I hear some of you say, “How come?” Well, it’s like this: something less than a year ago I was a “hobo,” a wanderer upon the face of the earth—without home and friends; today, I’m sitting on top of the world, and I gotta good home, a kind master and lots of good things to eat—so what’s the use a hollerin’ my head off about hard times?
G. R. Dunaho of Los Angeles, asked me for information about the “hoop” snake, and I referred him to the Snake Lore in the February number of Outdoor Life. He returned my letter with an appended note stating, “I have found out a few things about the hoop snake that never hoops from a reliable naturalist,” and enclosed a slip with the following quotation: “Abastor erythrogrammus:—A harmless snake of the Southern United States; so called hoop snake, from the mistaken notion that it curves itself into a hoop, taking its tail into its mouth and rolls along with great velocity.”
The trapshooting world mourns the loss of Charley Spencer. The sudden death of Spencer in San Antonio, where he was doing some exhibition target shooting in behalf of his firm, was a distinct shock to the knights of the scattergun. It is doubtful if there was a better known trapshooter in the world than Charley Spencer.