A VERMONTER, Harold F. Blaisdell, according to his own description, is addicted to all the varied forms of fishing and hunting the Green Mountain state affords. The sport he loves best, however, is brought to light in this issue —in his story “Take a Gun—Take a Dog—Take a Fox!”
BEAR of the month. Bernie Cole, Jackson, Wyo., was cleaning out a beaver dam when a big she bear attacked him. First blow from her paw hurled him 15 ft., knocking him unconscious. When he came to, he feigned death though she clawed and bit him.
ANY SPORTSMAN'S SUBJECT YOU'RE INTERESTED IN? WE PRINT AS MANY OF YOUR LETTERS AS WE CAN
Punish the Dog Poisoner
Somewhere in the Pacific
Careless Boy Hunters
Camera Instead of Gun
"22,000,000 Postwar Sportsmen"
Starved Adirondacks Deer
Airmen Answer Plane Critics
What Does It Mean?
On the Predators' Side
Editor Outdoor Life
WHEN my son Robert went overseas —he's with the U. S. Navy in the Philippine area—he left his dog, Shave, in my care. Now Shave is dead—poisoned by some unknown person. Not only did the poisoner kill the devoted companion of a man who is fighting for his country, but he killed an animal that was doing its part too—as watchdog at the Sinclair Government Housing Project.
JOURNEY BY BOAT AND TOM THUMB RAILWAY INTO THE BACK OF BEYOND ON MICHIGAN'S UPPER PENINSULA; BATTLE SNOW AND RIVER ICE; FACE SUSPENSE, ADVENTURE—AND A DEER!
FOR the very reason that it’s one of the toughest pieces of deer country along the south shore of Lake Superior to get into, it’s one of the best to be found. You know how it is with highways and hunting country. Where the roads go the crowd follows, and after a few years the hunting turns thin.
Swift tricky currents and ducks to match—the jump shooters got thrills aplenty along the river hunters call “shotgun graveyard”
ROTUND, grinning Leon, also known as Mister Five-by-five, took a long look at George's rubber boat as he helped him lift it out of the back end of the truck for the portage to California’s Owens River. “I don’t believe it!” Leon burst out. “You don’t believe what?” demanded George.
LIKELY every trout angler who has fouled a leader or wound a hackle has wished for the perfect fly. A fly that would take 'em whether they sulked or cavorted, gorged or selected. A fly for any stream and any time. A “universal” creation embodying all the virtues of the good patterns, and none of their faults.
LT. COMDR. WILLIAM J. THOMPSON, who is with the Navy's Seabees, has made a special study of this much-discussed weapon. Here are his impartial findings, based on thorough tests. Read what he says about its worth, both for combat— and for hunting purposes!
LET’S LOOK at the M-1 carbine. Officially it is known and designated as “U. S. Carbine, cal. .30, M-1.” We have been told how it was conceived and how rapidly it was placed in production by the various arms manufacturers. Most newspaper readers will quickly recognize the weapon, as it seems to have a habit of cropping up in pictures from combat zones throughout the world.
OUR NERVES tingled. We trembled with excitement. From a near-by clump of bushes two maned lions had unexpectedly stepped out into the open. One of them was just another lion. But the other—a huge beast with a long and beautiful black mane extending almost beyond his shoulders—it was he who sent thrill after thrill down our spines! As I gazed upon him all the big cats I had shot in previous years faded into insignificance.
Few readers have the time and patience to fit it out as this man did, but his rustic creations are worth a second look
SEVENTEEN years ago Bud Oberholtzer, a fishing guide who lives in Baldwin, Michigan, set out to build himself a hunter’s cabin. He resolved to use only native woods, tree stumps, and roots for furnishings and decoration. The very thought of the labor and craftsmanship involved would stop most men before they even started— but now the job is done!
FROM youth to old age, from north to south, east to west, more hunters pursue the hippety-hopping cotton-tail rabbit than any other species of our North American wildlife. The yearly kill of brown bunnies far exceeds that of any other game.
When men and machines swarm the Alaska Highway, things happen— in more ways than one
SGT. LLOYD HARTMAN
THE TELEPHONE in the U. S. Signal Corps telephone repeater station at Fort Nelson, British Columbia, buzzed merrily. I picked up the receiver and somebody said, “Hey, you. Get your rifle and come down here.” The voice unmistakably belonged to Eddie, the sergeant in charge of the gang that was clearing a right of way for the Alaska Highway telephone line.
Their guide steered them right into a West Coast salmon run, then uncorked the very trick the situation called for
PAUL W. GARTNER
FOR once I feel just like a trade rat,” Dud exclaimed. “You don’t look it,” my brother John disagreed. “Your whiskers aren’t long enough.” “But no fooling,” Dud persisted, “this trading a chip for a salmon sure is pack-rat stuff.” Strange fishing talk?
Could such long shots with a .220 Swift on coyotes and pronghorns be? There was one way to find out; the author took it
F. C. NESS
MY YEN for a pronghorn trophy developed, about thirty years ago, from a gayly colored cover on OUTDOOR LIFE. A golden antelope buck posed proudly against a prairie background of distant purple interrupted by a sunlit mesa. I was just a gun-loving kid then, but the buck’s graceful beauty inspired me to copy him in oil, and I stayed up all one night roughing his pinto hair and putting a gleam in his magnificent eye.
EAGER HOUND, TRACKING SNOW, NEAR-BY WOOD LOT, PASTURE, OR SWAMP—THESE ARE THE MAKINGS OF A PERFECT DAY
HAROLD F. BLAISDELL
HAVE you closeted the old scattergun for the duration, brother? Have you taken to biting your nails, ranting in your sleep, and beating your wife because you can’t get the gasoline for hunting trips ? If that’s the case, pray cease your weeping and wailing for a moment while I soothe your troubled soul with a possible solution for your frustrations.
EASY-TO-BUILD SNEAK SKIFF for HUNTING, FISHING, EXPLORING
J. A. EMMETT
THIS 15½-foot skiff—copied from one of the best of the distinctive craft to be seen at Smiths Island, in Maryland’s famous Chesapeake Bay—is designed to suit present conditions. Ordinary lumber and simple fastenings can be used; its manner of construction is easy enough not to require too much time these busy days; and the boat itself will make you independent of gasoline rationing.
THE ANNUAL game supper at Hartland, Me.—an affair held under the auspices of the Lions Club, and noted throughout the entire state. Let's not tarry, let's get on with the accompanying photos of the frosty north woods, the skinning and cutting up of the fine white-tail buck, the pie and cake baking, and all the other preliminaries that lead up to the big event —a real he-man's feast where anyone who refuses a third helping runs the almost certain risk of being struck off the list of guests for the next year
WHENEVER I go hunting I carry a card in my vest pocket which I consult whenever I'm in the kind of terrain where a long-range shot is likely to present itself. On that card I've worked out the bullet drop, not in inches but in relation to the front bead of my .30/30 Winchester, Model 94 carbine.
LIKE most American scattergunners I learned to shoot by the simple process of taking a shotgun and some shells, and trying to shoot something. That’s a poor way to learn to handle a gun, but sadly enough it’s the way most of us do it. The ideal way to learn is to go to a skeet field and have the benefit of skilled instruction from the start.
After the war, it's safe to assume, some of the old familiars will go by the boards, making way for new
A GOOD MANY LADS have written in to ask just what chances certain cartridges have for staying in circulation when the war is over. They seem to sense that cartridge lists are one of the things the war is going to change, and as a consequence those with obsolescent and unpopular muskets are beginning to brood.
SINCE I was merely making a routine patrol of the district on Vancouver Island, B. C., for which I am provincial game warden, I didn’t have a dog with me and was armed only with a .22 single-shot rifle. The day was warm and clear, but snow still lay here and there in patches.
FOR half a century I’ve been spending my summers in the beautiful Cascade Mountains of Oregon, observing wildlife and communing with nature. And back in 1906—when the Forest Service was something new—I served there for four successive summers as a fire watcher.
THERE is a popular fallacy that the skunk’s lethal weapon is his tail. Because a switch of the tail is usually simultaneous with the ejection of scent, many folks believe he throws the odor with his tail. This, of course, is wrong. Like most animals, the skunk uses his tail as a rudder to help him turn quickly.
HERE’S one that seems a bit tall, and is certainly corny. According to Roy Hampton of Plymouth, N. C., bears around that place make a practice of raiding corn fields in late summer and fall. A bear, says Hampton, will go down a row of corn, stripping every stalk of every ear.
DID I ever kill a deer? Well, I guess I’ve brought home my share of ’em,” said Eph Hopkins, settling comfortably against a log near the camp fire. The firelight danced on the eager faces of his three grandchildren, thrilled to rapt attention over their first camping trip.
ALTHOUGH I have hunted big game like elk, deer, antelope, and bears in several states and have shot pythons and boas in the Philippines, I wouldn’t trade the prairie-chicken hunts that I enjoyed with the old 16 gauge muzzle-loader of my youth for all those exciting-sounding experiences.
THIS is the story of how tough a Maine buck can be—or seem to be. It is also the tale of a hunter around Fryeburg in the Pine Tree State who thought he had lost his eyesight, banged his gunsight, or else required a psycho-analysis to find out what caused those antlered spots before his eyes.
AT TIMES it is almost impossible to take trout except with natural bait. That must be admitted, even though we may be prejudiced against using it. There can be no wholly satisfactory solution of the problem of when to use artificials and when naturals.
Question: Have you ever heard of using small bullheads as trout bait? A veteran fisherman in Connecticut recommended them to me. —N. B. W., New York. Answer: While I have never tried them I see no reason why bullheads wouldn’t make excellent trout bait.
WITH very little effort you can make a casting-rod support which will help keep your reel in good condition. Materials needed are a small block of pine, a ½-in. pine dowel, a ⅜-in. screw eye, and a rod clamp. These clamps are made in various sizes, primarily for affixing reels to salt-water rods.
A STUDY of fly fishing for winter-run steelheads has been made by Ralph Wahl of Bellingham, Wash., who has sent us a summary of the results. “Most of the fishing was done on a sweeping riffle of the Skagit River,” he writes. “Twelve steelheads were landed between January and the middle of April.
MOST of us have a dash of the explorer in our systems—the urge to find out what is beyond the turn in the road or on the other side of the hill. In normal years, broad highways and fast cars made it possible for us to take exciting trips to most of the places within reasonable driving distance.
PACK SACK, tumpline, pack board, and pack harness—these four carrying devices are standard for moving camping equipment from one tent site to another, and around stretches of bad canoeing water. Each has its adherents and uses and, under certain conditions, one of them may serve you better than the others.
A NEW material developed by the Firestone Tire and Rubber Company will, it is believed, result in some very definite improvements in sportsmen’s postwar clothing and equipment. The material, a plastic film known as Velon, can be sprayed or brushed on textiles.
Cut a rabbit into serving pieces and stew in a baking dish with a sliced onion, 3 bay leaves, and 2 tsp. salt. Use only enough water to cover. When meat is tender, remove from baking dish and cut out all bones. Then thicken liquid with a little flour rubbed smooth in cold water. Replace the boned meat, and add a dash of white pepper and 1 tsp. Worcestershire sauce.
THE playing season of the Hot-stove League of American Gunners, Inc., is now well under way. Naturally many of its star performers are overseas, but it can still put in the field enough time-tried veterans, too old for active service, and talented rookies who for various reasons have been turned down by Uncle Sam, to complete its schedule and round out what looks like a fairly successful season.
Question: I have a problem concerning the training of a young setter. I should like to start him on live birds this summer so he’ll be as ready as possible when the hunting season starts, but there are few birds within a reasonable distance of where I live, and it is impossible to buy any, particularly pheasants, to stake out for him to work on.
Question: All last summer we had considerable difficulty keeping our five sled dogs free of ticks. We tried several powders but the dogs shook it off as fast as we sprinkled it on. Isn’t there some liquid we could use?—A. R., Ontario, Can. Answer: I suggest that you mix 4 oz. of derris powder (with 4 percent rotenone) and 2 oz. liquid soap in 1 gal. water.