Behind the scenes with some of those who made this issue what it is
KENNETH MURRAY has divided his time between two very dissimilar occupations — making things clear to people and mystifying them! The making-clear part is illustrated by his article in this issue, “Make Yourself a Landing Net”—one of the most lucid, complete, helpful, and clearly illustrated “how-to-do” articles we’ve seen in a long time. The mystification part refers to the fact that he formerly was a professional magician!
BERRIES are bait for bear: Bert Ware, Aurora, Me., went out to pick blackberries this last summer, found eight bears—big, medium, little—there ahead of him. Before meeting broke up, Bert had three bears and berries too . . . While on bears, a bow to the Kodiak Bear, 4-page weekly newspaper published weekly by officers and men of Fort Greely, Alaska.
ANY SPORTSMAN'S SUBJECT YOU'RE INTERESTED IN? WE PRINT AS MANY OF YOUR LETTERS AS WE CAN
Game Hog's Opportunity
What Dog for Ringnecks?
That Tough Coyote
Movies for Clubs
Fresh-run Black Salmon
Sport for Service Men
Raspberry for Pike
EDITOR Outdoor Life
TODAY an article appeared in a local newspaper which has me so boiling mad that I just have to let off steam, and your columns seem about the best place to do it. The writer of this piece starts out with the “news” that meat is going to be scarce this winter.
Tame? Easy to kill? Well, the wapiti herd of New Mexico had little trouble in taking the measure of this hunter!
CHAS. ASKINS JR.
SHOOT elk in New Mexico?” I was openly dubious. “Shucks, George, you don’t have enough elk in the whole state to make a hunt worth while. Besides, I’m betting they’re as tame as barnyard cows.” George shook his head stubbornly, assuring me that not only were there plenty of elk in the Canyon of the Shuree, but that they were exceedingly wild.
IN THE half light before sunrise the long pier throbbed with activity. Bluejackets and Coast Guard men took the familiar waterfront scene in their stride, but many of the uniformed soldiers faced a new and exciting experience. A lot of them had never smelled salt air before, nor felt it blowing damply against their faces. Names were called out.
Pennsylvania's unique weather maker shows conservationists how to give you more game
A DOZEN little bobwhites strut about in noonday brightness, cheeping contentedly in the warm, velvet-soft air. One scratches half-heartedly in search of an insect, another settles in a hollow for a lazy sun-and-dust bath. . . . And the spell is broken!
SANTA CARRIES A TREAT IN HIS BAG FOR NEW MEXICO'S ANGLERS
FOR perhaps the hundredth time, I whipped the rod about, admiring its perfect balance. And once again, I glanced at the card attached to its butt. I knew every word written there, but stopped to read once more: “May your creel forever remain heavy.”
If you think it's impossible to corner a flock of ducks, learn a lesson from these canny gunners on a high California lake!
Chigger Bite Remedy
Coyotes in Maine
THE duck season started off like a million dollars. Opening day found tens of thousands of canvasbacks, mallards, pintails, widgeons, and other popular wildfowl resting on the ponds, lakes, coastal sloughs, and rivers of California.
After a man has hunted the salty white-tails of Cape Cod, nothing in the world will ever daunt him
YOU never know what a cup of coffee and a pair of doughnuts will lead to. I was at the friendly counter of our popular eating place, letting my eyes and thoughts roam over the harbor, always a pleasing occupation. Directly across the road reared Sam Cahoon’s wholesale fish market and behind it the masts of half a dozen deep-sea fishing draggers.
MAY BE it started with the abbreviation of our woodcock shooting to a mere two weeks, or it may have been the scarcity of timber doodles. At any rate, one evening, after a day of nearly futile search for the little fellows, I was gloomily regarding the bag (one), when Si came to the house.
The Alaska Road, a gigantic Army project nearing completion, will open vast new areas to American hunters
DRIVEN at top speed through 1,560 miles of some of the toughest wilderness in North America, the Alaska Road will be finished in considerably less than the year on which Army Engineers figured when, last March, they tackled their biggest job since the digging of the Panama Canal.
What if you can tumble an unsuspecting jack? It takes a real hunter to hit one on the lam
Montana Studies Grizzlies
Protection from Rust
TWO HUNDRED yards out in the young oats a long-eared, stiltlegged creature jackknifed into the sunshine—and slumped back a sad shell of his former plump self. From our position atop a straw stack Les watched gravely for a moment without comment.
IF IT'S A FULL CREEL YOU WANT, ASSERTS A GUIDE, TROLL'EM, BROTHER, TROLL'EM!
NYLE F. SMITH
PROFESSIONAL guides hear some mighty funny (and I mean peculiar, not ha-ha) stories when the year’s crop of anglers descend upon the high lakes for their annual two weeks of fishing. I wouldn’t discourage them for the world. They’re entitled to their ideas.
Bob, the English setter, was educated on bobwhites—which didn't help much when he with Pennsylvania's ruffed grouse
BOB, the competent English setter, began to make game. Nose pointing straight ahead, he stiffened and walked slowly on. But he didn’t come to an actual point. Instead he crept forward, lifting each foot falteringly, always seeming just about to “freeze.”
LOOKS LIKE WORK FOR EXPERTS, BUT A FIVE-MINUTE TRY WILL SHOW YOU HOW AMAZINGLY EASY IT REALLY IS
"WAIT until I finish painting this boat," said Bill, "and I'll show you a landing net that is a landing net." Bill Miller is no longer a youngster, although he acts like one when talking about his favorite sport. Fishing, and fishing equipment, make up his main interest in life, and have for many years.
ALL my life I've been a sucker for doing things the hard way. Ordinary methods aren't good enough for me; in order to get any fun out of something, I've got to make it as difficult as possible. Every April, for example, I go trout fishing in a little brook that’s so fished out nobody else ever bothers with it.
PACKING your own on foot is bound to get more and more fashionable, in these carless times, for hunters, fishermen, and all campers. Here's an ingenious idea from Fred G. Hines, California pack hiker and angler whose trips have been pictured in these pages before —a roomy, easy-to-erect, two-man tent, weighing six pounds or less, each piece of which serves other needs on a hike.
CHANCES are you’ll never want to bring home a bear alive—you’d be in more danger from your wife or relatives than from the bruin, if you did! However, here’s the way it’s done, as pictured by E. L. MacFarlane, a New Brunswick ranger. Happening upon a young black bear in the woods, MacFarlane reported it to French Canadians in a near-by settlement who came and got the prize.
THERE’S nothing novel about a deer jumping; every hunter has seen all too many of them soar high over a windfall out of sight just when he’d like them to stand still. But when a full|grown doe will leap a five-foot bar on command, and also play harness and saddle horse, that’s a different story.
NO, THIS isn't a goofy stunt. It’s a practical way to save waterfowl from a peculiar wartime hazard—pools of crude oil, from ships sunk offshore, which float into tidal waters and clog the feathers of migrating ducks so that they quickly drown.
SHORT on exercise but long on tricky shooting—that’s the sport of hunting rails (sora, clapper, and other kinds) in Atlantic and Gulf tidewaters. The hunter merely sits or stands in his boat as a guide poles him through dense marsh vegetation in search of game.
TROUT may come and bass may go, but the catfish—favorite of tot and totterer—is waiting for the hook in many a mud-bottomed stream, winter or summer. So this is as good a time as any to demonstrate a useful art: skinning the cat. Not the acrobatic stunt every American kid performs on lowhanging branches, but the equally difficult trick of peeling that tough, rubbery pelt from a catfish.
ENEMY agents trying to take advantage of an air bombing or other emergency to slip in and harm bridges, dams, or airports near Hamburg, N. Y., will run into this businesslike group — the Hamburg Sportsman Patrol. Organized under the sheriff's supervision, armed with shot|guns and rifles, and uniformed in green coveralls, these modern Minute Men will step in to guard vital points in war emergencies.
A set of these simply constructed profile models will cost you little time or money—and get ducks
BECAUSE traveling is so restricted these days, we spend more time at home, and we might as well spend it profitably. Why not do a little sawing and hammering and some painting, spend maybe a dollar or two, and make a set of decoys that will bring the ducks down to you?
A COVEY of quail bursts from the high stubble and heads for the jack oaks a hundred yards or so away. To the hunter on the left they come up with tremendous speed. Frantically he tries to follow them, but he cannot, and in desperation he fires twice without getting so much as a feather.
The contributor of this little story makes no claim to originality; he's passing it along only because he enjoyed it and thinks others will too
IT WAS the first trip the two boys had ever made into moose country. They were on Isle Royale, up in Lake Superior, fishing one of the inland lakes from their canoe, and they got pretty excited when they saw a big cow moose swimming across the lake.
WILD rabbits have come to the front because of wartime needs. There is a shortage of pelts, used in the manufacture of felt hats, owing to marked curtailment in rabbit-skin imports. Furthermore, the fur trade, by its demands for rabbit skins to make fur coats and trim cloth coats, has further reduced the hatters’ supplies of fur for felt.
YEARS ago, when America was young and muzzle-loading shotguns were the vogue, the choking or constriction in the bore of the barrel was invented to guide and converge a shot charge at the target. And because this constriction not only did just that, but added to the velocity to some extent, everyone who went afield for sport or hunted wildfowl for the market wanted not only a choked gun but the fullest of chokes at that.
ONE thing leads to another. You start out with a group of sportsmen in a “bull” session in a smoke-filled room. Talk gets around to a clubhouse—that spot on Uncas Pond in the thick woods would be ideal. There are still some big bass in the pond—and fine rabbit hunting in the surrounding brush.
CONGRATULATIONS, old man; you made a dandy shot. You hit that deer (or moose or elk) square in the heart, and he only ran 50 yd. before he fell. Nice shooting, and you’ve reason to feel proud. Sure, you can ease up a bit now. But don’t completely relax!
THE mud hen, or coot, is not highly regarded as a game bird, but he makes a darn tasty dish. Get a few, next time out, and try these recipes. Cut meat in 1-in. pieces, salt, pepper, and dip in flour. Brown in fat. Add 2 cups water, chopped parsley and chopped onion, and cook slowly for about an hour.
RAISING wild-turkey chicks to majestic gobblerhood really is not hard to do, if you will be very particular about certain things. But if you neglect one of these fundamentals, all your birds are likely to die. Naturally, the first thought that occurs to you is this: Where would I get eggs of a pure wild strain?
HOW shall we cook that sirloin steak that’s a high point in every good camping trip? There are dozens of good ways of cooking meat in camp, and the flavor and tenderness of the outdoor product are far superior to anything produced by kitchen cookery.
SOME bass and trout fishermen will read no farther than the title of this piece. That’s all right. No article can be for everyone. This one is for those who happen to live where there are no aristocratic trout, salmon, or bass, and also for those who love the outdoors so much that information about any fish, no matter how lowly, provides interesting reading.
IT WAS one of those days you read about—warm and clear, with the fish jumping—when we Marines headed our motor whaleboat for Katlian Bay. It was our first Alaskan fishing trip when it wasn’t raining. Breaking fish became more numerous just above Old Sitka, so I slowed the boat down to trolling speed and rigged my fly rod.
TO KEEP nightwalkers for bait I use washtubs, as they are easy to handle. I get leaf mold that is well rotted and very damp (or soak it with water if it’s dry) and mix it with an equal amount of rich loam, then put this mixture in the tubs and dampen it slightly with water.
AVOID being a onelure man. It is a temptation to get in that category when you have had consistently good luck on a particular lure or fly, but in years of fishing I’ve yet to find one artificial—or live bait for which has always been tops. If someone else is getting fish and you are not, the reason is either that you’re fishing wrong or have the wrong lure—or a combination of both.
IT MEANS something, these days, to be able to go out to the end of a jetty or pier and pull in an 8-lb. fish—one that’s good eating too, And as if that isn’t enough, a fish that strikes like a demon and trades punches with you. I give you old ugly-puss—Tautoga onitis, the Atlantic blackfish.
BACK in the not-so-far-distant past, abundant car transportation used to put far-away fishing and boating waters within easy range. Lakes 100 mi. off were easily reached for weekends, while men keeping boats at some water point perhaps 25 mi. away thought nothing of driving over to use them for an evening’s run.
MANY years ago Josh Billings, Artemus Ward, or some other professional humorist of the middle of the last century, set down a nifty remark that went about like this: “Consider the postage stamp, my son. Its usefulness consists of its ability to stick to one thing till it gets there.”
Question: My English pointer, 2½ years old, has been hunted for two seasons, and is now learning to retrieve. Would it spoil her if I took her dove hunting in order to train her further in retrieving? I’ve been told that with so much fast shooting she’d lose her interest in hunting pheasants and quail and would just watch me.
Question: The pads of my foxhound’s feet wear down badly on a day’s hunt. How can I treat them?—L. F., Mass. Answer: I advise you to bathe the dog’s feet with witch hazel twice a day. Apply some codliver-oil ointment also, if necessary.—J. R. K.