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' ' i : ' i I 1 \ ' • .'Mau :\x *!i',i .''cus's'! ; ;^" ■\ ■\ ' '• •■- I" N ; ' • :; i: i; \ •-1 ■ / ' ■ ■ y FEAXK FOEESTEE'S FIELD SPORTS OF THE UNITED STATES, AND BRITISH PROYIXCES, OF NORTH AMERICA. There is exhilaration in tlio chase — Not bodily only. ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ It is a mingled rapture, and wa End The bodily spirit mouutin;; to the mind. Sir Egerton Brydget, BY IIEXUY WHJJA^r HERBERT, AL'TIIOR OP FRANK ':i^^««^ :^.;S.r AV,, K,S,„V«," ..„ORS. AV„ nOUSEMANSUIP " Tilt COMl-LtlE MANCAL FOU YOUNU 8I-0KTSME.N," ETC EIGHTH EDItm- COXTAIXtNT. V,-MKHOUS COKKKCTIO.VS AND AnniT.OVS A L,K. PHOTOGUAl'UEU BY MEAI>E AXU BUOTHEH ' PRBFAOED BY g^it (Drigiiml ^lustclj of bis fjcrii Inlercsting p. i^moirs. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. ^ . NEW YORK: W. A. TOWxNSEXD, 377 BROADWAY 1858. {i. I i Entered according to an Act of Congress, in the year 1848, nv STRINGFR AND TOWNSEND. In the Clerk's Office of the District Couit for the Southern District of New-York. Z/-?^ 2 PKINTED BT nOTT tc OAPTRAT, a; A 81 Beukmun St., N. Y. ^ I ii^- COLONEL WADE HAMPTON. \ViNGr.D Tkal . f?M!M: SlIJOTlNO , . . • • Ami.uican Woodcock . ... IxVFI'KD r.ROUSE , • . • • Amjeuiican Quail . . . • • Kl'.ONTI- !:cn. 'Jl 11 'J i:'.7 100 218 2C3 I I I f i COXTENTS OF VOLUME OXE. :cn. MEMOIR OF THE AUTHOR . , . ' • • • • . . pp. xi-xlvi Introductory Observations . . The Game of North America . o^ Upland SnooTmo of the Northern States and British Provinces ... 45 The Pinnated Grouse „, 49 The RuflFed Grouse ... Gi The Canada Grouse . . <1 American Quail _^ The Woodcock ... * * * o^ ••••••.00 Common Snipe • • . , . ***** "^ Bartram's Tatler ... n. 94 The American Hare .... m^ • • • • • lUU The Northern Hare ••..,,. ins The Mallard '.'.'. 106 The Dusky Duck .... ,,n • • , • ilU The Blue-Winged Teal jjg The Green -Winged Teal ,,„ The Wood Duck— Summer Duck joo The Pintail Duck ' 128 Upland Shooting of the Eastern and Middle States and of the British Provixcks ,04 Spring Snipe Shooting ^o- Summer Woodcock Shooting j^.^ Upland Plover Shooting 20l Autumn Cock Shooting •..,.. oqq If t I i • •• Vlll CONTENTS. Quail Pliooting Ruffed I 1 1 H I - 1 h I ^ .■ ,' ' ; A FEW MEMOIRS OF IIEXRY WILLIAM HERBERT, 4 4 BETTEK AXD MOIJE FAMILIARLY KXOWX A3 FEAXK r or. EST Ell." Tlio web of our llfo is of a ininL.''i'(l yarn, good ami ill to^otlior : our virtin^* would be proud if our faults wliipiieil them trnt, ami our crimed would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues." — Sh.vkksi'kaiie. [The publisher intended to hiive aviiiled himself of the pleasing pen of one of ^\i: Herbert's most intimate and most esteemed friends, tlie late William T. Porter, Esq., the popular editor of the "Spirit of the Times," as the best qualified and most suitable biograplier of the departed "Frank Forester." Mr. Porter, however, lieing in feeble health, the following sketch was prepared by a mutual friend of all the parties, with the inten- tion of obtaining Mr. Porter's approval as a prefix. In the mean time, a verifieation occiu-red of the solemn proverb, " Man proposes — God dis- poses." William T. Porter himself is now numbered among those who have "gone before." The publisher is enabled to say, however, that the manuscript of the following sketch has been examined by several of the most jjroniinent associates of both the deceased gentlenuMi, connected with either the Press or the Turf, and it has been honored with their entire and most cordial approbation.] Aftkr the injnnclion of "silence," so earnestly im- plored by the iinl'ortuiiate — iufdieissrnvus, most nnlbr- timate — gentleman whose real and assumed names are here mentioned, there may, ])ossibly, be some appearance |[ i V I 'I ^i 111' i m ' »>i I if! XII A FEW ME^rOIRS OF of pi'csninption, or disrespect, in mulviiig any attenijit at a relation of the principal incidents in his life. Still, as "Frank Forester,'' the lover of ]S"atnre, tho charming writer, the Shakespeare of sporting literatnre, Herbert's name and fame have now Itecome a species of American pnblic ])r()])erty, as it were, in which every person using the English language takes a hearty interest ; and, without intending any disregard to the personal wishes of their dear, departed friend — for such his I'ead- ers all feel and know him to he — his spiritual life and \m literary influence have now commenced to shine forth in their true glory, and possess a greater hold than ever upon the puhlic mind, as if enough never could be writ- ten or printed concerning so versatile and fascinating an author. Yes, indeed ; by the matchless works Herbert has left to speak for him, he is with us mure than ever — in si)irit — upon the hill-top, in the flowery dell, tracing the sides of mountain brooks from bright and breezy eminences, or holding lofty comnuuiion with Xaturo among the leafy arches and solemn cu- rul win- npltition li a snl)- an altar red arti- •er read ere with refining :lie mind of disrc- a coni- uctor as ring in with his s public. )les()nic, ith him, one nni- this was rtheless, )eiran to hy way .s 1) aiblic. and in- t a nnion af nearly In accordance with and in response to a national — we miicht almost sav universal — wish for some l»iTa])irK'al })aiticulars relating to If. \V. Herbert, we may conuiienee by remarking that lie was ikj curling-tongs count, n(.)r runaway banker's clerk, but precisely what he always rejiresented himself to be — an English gentleman, de- scended from and connected with some of the oldest and most aristocratic families in Great 15ritain and Ireland. The nerl)erts (or Fitz-Herberts, as they are frequently called in England) are undoubtedly of ancient origin and high rank. The name of Eitz-IIerbert, signifying ISon-of- llerbert, came into vogue in c<>iise(pience of the lung interval between their early ]U'ogeiiitoi' of iniiiortaiice, who was lord-chamberlain to King Henry I. from about 1120 till 1135, and the creation of William Herbert as Earl of Pembroke by Edward IV". in ]-l(!S. Chaml)erlains were of some importance in England about those days, es])ecially when they acted as ojjiciti' arty, and bclicaded by them in about a year after he ol)tained his earldom. His wife was Anne Uevereaux, sister of Lord Ferrers of Chantley. Slie had a large family, but Vv^illiam irer])ert'8 successors became extinct in the male line after two more generations. From "William's brother, however, have descended the famous Herberts of Cherlmrv, and one of these became Earl Fowis in 174G. This line also became extinct in a similar way, and ])assed with a daughter of Earl Fowls into tlie family of the famous Lord Clive, where it yet remains. AVe do not know whether there is, or need be, any "bar sinister " upon the subject in the lieraldic insignia of the Herberts, but it so happened that tlie aforesaid William Herbert, first Earl of Fembroke, left a son by a Welsh lady who bore his name of Herbert, in Montgom- eryshire. The son of that son married Anne Farr, sister of Catharine Farr, the sixth and last wife of Henry Vlll. This renewed the influence of the Herberts at court ; and, after " Old Harry " was dead, in the year 1551, during the reign of Edward VL, the grandson of the first earl received the title of Earl of Fembroke l)y a new creation, joined with that of Earl of Montgomery, inherited on the maternal side. This title is now held by Robert Herbert, a descendant of the eighth generation, but reckons by fraternal mutations of the line as the twelfth Earl of Fem- broke and the ninth Earl of Montgomery. Sidney Her- bert, late Secretary of "War in the British cabinet, is a brother to this personage. Among the younger sons of Thomas Herbert, tlie 2 r f ti. i. ii t • • xviu A FEW SIEMOIRS OF ei'^litli Earl of Pcmhroko, was General "William TTerLcrt, ■vvlio (listiiigiiislied hiinselt' greatly in the jiuLlic service, and al.'^o lia liappv pdWfis ! >--';•](> 1u' nTay m <>;'t' wcallliy yiMiii:;' coiiiiiKiiicrs ; and, as lie M-as (•(|na!l_v anxiniis lo ;is-i.riate with tlu'iii, lie a'i-aivt lial» III linoks a!i(! ill r\< V illiiiiL;'. lina'iiiu', I'aciiii:. latid.'m lnvt'«. ck'., ho s('attfiT(l nioncv cxlrav uraii; iv lillt llu'l'l aft' always very kind oM t;'r!i!K'iiii'ii, a.rnaiid ccIIcu'ms C'^pi'rially, wlio kiiuw a yniiiiu' man's ]KMlii>T('(' ainl cnii- iH'cliniis as widl. if not Ix'ltcr, lliaii lu' dors liinist'lt". ami wlio lia\(' a part icuiar rt'ii'ard I'or Iciidiii;;- inom-y to yoim^- i;'c]iiK'nuMi witli lai'ii'i' e.\[»rc(alioiis tlu'inschi's of pai'i-nls al»K' lo i)ay up all t'oi-fcits. Oiu' of llu' Itcst tliiiiu's Her- bert did while at (,\uid)i'idii;c Avas to join a troop of Cam- bi'idii'esln'rc Yeonianry (-a\alry, a full s'piadi'oii oi' which Avas occasionally "' (•an![)Ld out" on the I'outcs between (/anil>rid;^o ami IIunlini;'don, Petoi-boi'oii^-h, Lynn, Nor- wich, and sonietini(>s as fai' iiortli as I)o>ton in Lincoln- pliins ns the ditferent counties miu'ht invito (>ach e.ther's nieuiljers, t>'cnerallv freehojilers of the count v. Init alwavs -? n olle''M;ilb ■willing- to receive recruits tVoiu anioiii/; the ( l>y the knowled_i;'e of eipiestrian and Held niovenients thus acquired, Herbert Avas snbse(|uently <,'uabled ti"> t';i\'e us those tine desci'iptions of Roman battles, sieu'es, and cani- paig'us (by the Avay, the historian (iibboii has made use of a similar advauta<^o in early education amonu- his vrorks), Avhich JTerbert's deliii'hted readers 1ind in "The (."'a])tains of the Old AVoi'ld," or in "The Jvoiiian Ju'piib- lic," and which he intended to have continued. JMiich of the su|)[)Osed /^r^^^A '^/' of Herbert's maimer arose from the fact that his mind was so fref|uently " prc-occu}iied " VOL. I. 2 XX A Fi:\v Mi'3roir:s of ill t it n^ if' itli )tl 1 snino oriicr scciu', iii — as tlic Fi'cncli wt'iild sav — w otlioi' l.iml-, iiiitl iiUK'iiM- oiln..)- liiiit;-iia;j:('S, so that hi- i-ctiii'ii to piociit realities, ami the ii>f <'l" Ncrnaciihir l'!iiiiii>h, i'C4iiii'eion or (luolatioii, i'.\ce|(t as they would KULru;est themselves to those scholars who can revel in similar ilin'hts of classic exploration and [)oetic a has more uniformly ke[)t in \ iew the old niaxini that — nrhuiii dulce niultijdicut iUnicdS^ etc. — sweet lannna^'e will multii)ly friends, and a fair-s])eakin<; toni;Mie will miiltijdy kind <;-i-eetinii's. These c(»iisiderations and cireiinistances remind us of the often mentioned diiferi'iice imiilied by the exhorta- tion — "Do as I ivcacJt^ no matter M'liat I may ^A)."' While at colleu'e, llerhert had so rapidly acquired a rest- less and reckless Avay of liviu<:;, that his })arents could exercise little or n»j control over him. He ]»luni!;ed deei)er ddc ito debt aftei of comi Demg ■■ whitewashed " for the third time by the insolvency ])rocess, the usual sentence of outhnvry for debt was pub- lished. Herbert then voluntarily Avent to Brussels, and afterwards to Paris ; hut neither the Continent, lu^r Eu- rope itself, were larue enoui!;h for his peculiar ideas, and "no pent-nj) Utica" could satisty him; nothini,' short ot "a boundless continent," like that of America, seemed worthy of his notice. Herbert landed in this country about Xovember, 1831, and the few Imndred jiounds he brought with him having been soon expended, he was compelled to turn his atten- tion to business. lie readilv obtained an enijairement as HENRY WII.I.fAM lli:KI!p:iiT. XXI is ri'tiini Kniili>li, ini-taki'ii till-, foi- ls lU'Vrl' A' IciirmMl U'V \\"\llt iuf/!j>U<'((t luls, 111 id a g8. nlnt- juts could |)luiii;'ed e ; and, on insolvency t was pub- iisscls, and It, nor Eu- ideas, and lij short ot •a, pccmed Inber, 1S31, juiii Laving li Ills atten- laircnient as I a tcaclu-r ot' (iivok in iIm lii-v. K. Towii>viid Iliiddait"-^ (•la.->it'al and t'asliioiiaMi' scIimoI, wliic-li at tliat tiiiu' wa- in Ili'avcr s(i"'('t, near l'»v'(id\vjiy. The duties ot'liis station, ami tlie select conijuiny lie nut with, wcw too much like tliose at his lather's lioiise at home. lierKert \va-, like. Ilazlltt, "an untamahle lo\ er of jibi'rty," and he i^raduaily he^aii t(t write for the ])ress, in a soj-t o|' anoiiyninus man- ner, but with no objection to tlie jteciiniary re>iilts. Mak- ini^ the accjuaintancc (»(' the editor of the '* Spirit of the Times," Col. Wm. T, r..rter, the "tall bon ..f York," Iler- Ijert's eontribiiliuiis wei'c gladly received. He then "'did lip the reviews" for the "Courier and Kiupiirer," and fioon made his mark as a keen ami trenchant reviewer. Notwithstanding a discovery of these facts, it is due ti> the memory of the deceased to state that he retained the most honorable confidence, while giving perfect stitifac- tion, at Mr. lluddart's school for eight years. In ls;U, Herbert's first historical novel, "The T.ro- thers, a Tale of the Fronde," was ])ublished by the Har- pers, and was very t'avoral)ly received by tlie public. Such a writer certainly was an acrpiisition in tliose days, and the American mind readily acknowledged the au- thor's claims to distinction. For some reasons we do tint nnderstand, and have no wish to interfere with, this work has been allowed to go out of ])rint, althongh it is said that the pages are stereotyped, and the plates are in ])os- session of Messrs. nar])er, who refuse to allow any further use to be made ftf them. Herbert was for a long time known to the public only by the title of "author of The Brothers," etc., but he never offered the Harpers any more of his MSS. A member of that enterprising firm is said to have been " hit off" in the " Warwick "Woodlands." From 1833 to 1836, Herbert Avas, more or less, con- nected with the "American Monthly Magazine," some- times writing all the editorial matter, having succeeded I, ill *' li tmtm XXll A FEW Mr^rOTP.S OF Dr. A. 1). rattorpon, and juincd Cliarles F. TTofTiuan fn its cdiiiirial iiiaiiai^'cnicnt. In ls;J7. IlerliL'i'fs re|>u{ali{' '' Croiiiwcll,"' wJiicli was even nioi'o lavctrably received by tlie Aniencan public than "'ilie Ih-othcrs." In 1^.'>S, IIti-I)('i-t becanio mixed np in a di>]iute lead- iiii;- to a [)i'op(>si'd (hiel, wliicli wi>nld undonbtedly have taken ])lace Init I'or a se\e!'e snnw-slorm, which ])i'evcnted tlie parties iV(»ni nieetiiii;' in Canada as intended. The si'Cimd (if Ids antau'oiust, lia\iii^' sidiseipientlv rejiroaclied lel'lu'l'i wil li C(i\vardic(^ at \\'ashinu't<'n Hall, in Ne w \nv]< llie laltei' 1ire( I twice at liis accuser, but llic balb M'eut into \]\o d'liu- of tlie ronni as the olliei- ox'iitIcin;>n went out. This atfair furnislii'd uiucli i^'ossip for tlie small ad\' ])a[>ers then couuiig inrii noli ce AV islimu'toii dall was on the Ueade street corner of hat is now known as Stewai't's marble palace in Ih'oad- i_v. This holel wiis the u'eiieral head-(juarters of all the men al)out tdwii. 1 ii. '' )(1 IIU r.ucksof AV^ishino'ton Hall" was a lilh? commonly u'iveu to the frecpitniters of ils bar- room. All IK' Olid li am 1 '' st ranii'e u'eniuses were -uiv to li'o there, bv a --oil ol tacit nndeistam liiiii'. as soon thi'V arriveil in Xcw ^ ork. The hotel became } >arti(_' Iv taniou- tcr it liad heeii visited hv ^Madame ^Mah- M: bran, and here it was that Mr. (iilfert, then ])i'o])rietor of the I'owery Theatre, otfei'ed the uil'led sonu'stress the anicles of an eii^'a^'eiiu lit, wiih blanks left for herself to insei-t sneli terms oi payment as she iiii^ht tliiiik propt-r. ilie arriv al, in iSol, of such an " inviiicil • le as Herbert threw '^th w.iobi crowd into cc ;ie: IS ca\'alier IxmiIs, m-i1Ii K'iuu' Charles s[)iirs, were voieil '"just the cheese.'" Hit moustaches, such art iclcs liciim" rarelv seen in IJroadw •-^.y during- th(»se days, attracted many a fair one's favoi-jdjie g'lance from the o])positi' or fashionable side of the way. I .t'tlu3 siieh I'iviil, "the w i 1 1 1 His ,n:NUY Nvii.MA^r iierukkt. XXIU A\"e do not moan to imjily that llerliort was an iiimato at Wasliiiii;'tou Hall, allhimi^-li, likr liundreiU of otliors, lie viftlted the hoii.-e occaftioiially. He was hoardlnu' at the Carlton JFouse, whither ho had <;'«iiie hi l>ot>, l)ecause his coiuieotiou with the "Courier and I-hi([iiirer am ames other pa|)ei'fe, all piihlisiied down town, had hceome se> iiitimale as to enu'ro.-s a larire iiortioii oi' hi.-, time, U. Sur^'ent was in those days one of tlie leai of the ''Courier," and a strong' team — from mix editoi's Matt Ill'W L fill tl s around to Charles A. Hurdetl h -we en^'a^'etl t <> le vai'ious ueiiartnieiital diitK A s a revK'Wor and d an occasional C(.>mril)u:or -a poetry, ilei'horts name am presence became i'amiliar iii liierary, artir^tie, and mu^i(•al circles. As a natural eonsr(juenee, his handsome perxm and fascinatinu' manners (•au>ed )he ^ocicry of hUeli a man to he much courted \>y the ladies, l>ut his tlioui^hi:^ were too mu(di occupied hy his wriliuL^s or hy " thi' Jolly do^'s of the clul)s'" to seriously emerlain the idea of nuiri'iaL;e. In this btate of all'aiis, llerherl was reipiested, oiie ilay in lSol>, to accompany one nf hi> liierary tViends, Mr. Joseph A. Seoville, on a weddim;' toiu' to IJanu'oi-. in Maine. Mr. Seoville was at that tinu' in wi'alihy and pronnsinr In' ci»n- sented to accomjtany the expectant hride^-rodin. d'lu; inconv(Mu"ence of leaviiiu' l)U>iiu>s in New ^'oi'k' w^uhl ho compensated by a round trip of ;i thousand nules, and tho pleasure of witiu'ssino- a ji»yful occasion. After ari'iviiuLi" at Uann'or, there was, for some uuac- conutablo reason, a sli^'ht delay. In the mean time, tho astoundinn' discovery was nuide that the inieiideil h'ide was (piite willinu' t'oi- the ceriunonies of saerilicc a' tho liynienial altar to proceed, ^n/f it was with lieniv WilHam III iif ^|:^:. 1 • < i ' i ! KXIV A FEW MEMOIRS OF IIor1)crt only for lier linsl)aiii]; aii tlic afoi'o>airivate nature, and it is jiot likely that tliey ever can be pro[iei'ly understood by out- side lookers-* m. ^A'e have here stated such facts as are known to have occuri'ed, aiul they go to show that IF. ^V. Herbert was not the oidy odd character in his day and geiu'i'ation. .\s ''Death loves a shining nuirk,"' so does "the re[»tile s]'irit of calumny.'" riistory teaches that I'oyal marriages, when ciniilucted by ]»roxy, sometimes lead to dangerous perils from the despotism of love. The andia»ailoi- is fre(piently thought more of than the j»rince who sent him. But Herbert was not the uu\u to ])lay the part of ])andini to any other man's J*iiuce Felix — Cinderella or lu) Cinderella. Her- bert's principal was ])i'escut. The geiu'ral consistency of Ilei'bei't's spirit-life may I30 seen in the fact that a linpi»y marriage nuide him more nseful and more ai!mirabU> in society. Domestic disquiet lieiug a fatal bar to all sublimity of attaimiuMit, no man — liowcN'er gieat he may be in the way of genius or of indus- try — can possii)ly ]>i'ospi'i- under such des|»olic and obtrusive misery. Hut, with a happy home, all the oi-di- naiy ti'oubl(>s of life are do]^rived of any sei'iousintlnenco, and tlie num has some chance fir shinini'' forth in his ti'uo ch lU'acter. So it was with llei'bert. In 1840, the vear liis son was born, Herbert extended his literary and poet- I lili IIP:XRy WILLIAM ITEUBERT. XXV foresaid >erplex- ■, never orit l>y oiit- -; as are ,t 11. ^v. day and so does lid acted roin tlio thouii'lit l)ert was V other Jler- may ho n more isquiet man — indns- le and ic ordi- liuMieo, lis ti'uo le vear i\(. 1 poet- ical contributions to tlie press more freely than over. It was at this interesting' jjcriod when tlie name of "'Frank Forester"' heeamc created fri^ni Ilerhert's Jove-like hi'ain, and the world has consented to receive " FRxVXK FOllESTER " witli all the honors, rei^ardless of title or nation, heraldic devices <>r peei"a;^e hooks, hut simply for that love of Natui'e which makes ''all mankind ai- the great familv of puhlic favorites. His " llin^wood the Hover" and " AV^arwick Woodlands," caused a general desire to have '• a few more of the same sort." While thus en- gaged in producing some of the finest n(»vels in his day, lie found time to contribute nuuiy a good fugitive article to the "Knickerbocker ]\ragazine," "Graham's ]\raga- zinc," and several other ])eriodicals. There was scarely an issue of the last named magazine without one, two, and sometimes three, articles from Herbert's ready })en ; and these were generallv thrown off by liim without inucli thought or iiiush, as nu'rely mental pastime among his other more permanent literary labors. One of the articles Herbert furm'shed to Graham in IS'il, was "The Ronum Ih'ide," a beautiful story, in which the general character of Attila the Hun, as ])ortrayed l)y Herbert's father in his famous jioeiu of "Attila," is well exem})litied by the incidents atten I'e- iiowm^xl foi' its artistic beauties, and Herbert's ti-eatment il \ ' 1 . \ • V ' I i ill' It XX.Vl A FEW ^rE^roins of dl' V is a fino P]>ociinoii of liis doiihly-giffed power of di'sci'ipliiiii jind condiMisanon. Another of tilt' ai'ticdcs Kent ti> (Jraliain in l^^ll, wa?* "Tlic ]\[aiTiai;'(' of Acdullos,"' v.liicli attracted general attrnlldii, f'oi' ii s]|(iw(m1 ilic immense woaltli (»f cla-sir lore in flie aullioj'V mind, and Ins ability to concentrate and wwvAw tlie (diai'nnn;^ tVnits of |>i'e\ious ages of stndy into t!u' small scope of a ma_!.''a/cine article. It astonished some of our oldot and, Ixst-i'ead collegians with its almn- danee of Instorical detail, and it delighted the most sui)er- iieial rcadc:,-. with its easily intelliii'ihle ti'orueonsness of deserijition, iiartaking of hoih the vojnpruoiis and heroic. The ai'ticle I'ead as if the old sjiirit of Grecian mythology liad lak'fMi no a new ;d)od(,- amon<;' tlie hrii-'htness of the iVmeriean continenl, to keep alive onr h>vc of the Ijeau- tifnl, \vldle showing the ancient sword of military warfare crowiud with a \yreath of orange-blossoms and myrtle leaves, siiri'onnded by a halo of jioetic glory, '* lambent and imitatiye of the lights that stnd the empyrean.'" Hoveyer, oui' })ur[)o>e at present reipiires ns to pass on wilhont stopping to indulge in a consideration oC Her- bert's writings, e.\ci']>t so far as tliey gis'e some outliiu' of his life and charactei'. Sullice it to say, that ])nblic favor induced him to gradually make his choice of subjects nu")rc fannliar; for, witli all his I'aults. lie was true to his great ])ati'o;i — the iVmerican p(>o[iK'. His '']\[arniadnke ^Vy\il ; oi', the Maid's Uevenge," jniblislied in 1S-I;>, was uiu;om- monly well received, l)ut he wroio more and more sport- ing matier as lie found " Fi-ank Forester " was a more pott'ut nanu> than even that of II. AV. Herbert. His con- nection with tlie "S|)irit of the Times," and its then editor, AVin. T. Porter, was Herbert's most magnetic link of communication with jtopular favor, and many a "s[)icy article" has been concocted among the fre(pient- crs near the '' old S[>irit " ofHce, when it Wiis in Barclay HENRY AVir.I.TAM IIKnP.F.RT, XXVll Btrect niider the Ainoricmi TInh^K oii tlu' cunioi" of TliMad- ^\'jiy, in tlic _i;'()i>(l old days ol' (\A. (\>/.yjM\H. This kind (if infhic'iice suhsofjiK'ntlv lii-oii^-lit forjh those tivati>L'> oii spor tinii' matters and n;itural lii>lnrv whicli have now be- come stanchu'd Avork.'- in oui' nationa] lit^'i'atnve. 'Mv. and ^Frs. Uerhcrt, .-Imrtlv aftor niarriaiiH^ ronuivt'd frtini the Carlton House, in Xcw ^'oi'k, to i1k' I'ark llouso in Xrwark, X. -I. In t^lt), Mrs. Ilerhrrf died wliile at till.' lul\'i' [)!a('e. Their son h.ad \>vv\\ ^cnt to I']iiu']and, Nvhei'c he lound o f a 1 lous" an I liomes'.ead i'or the youfhful Ilerhert, which, liowever, fchould l)e inalieiiahle tor any other [uii-pose, exce})t it miiiht he ;is a re.-i(k'nc'e f^r II. W. Ilerhert (held hy a (lee* of tru>t) until his son heeanie ol' a;. II erhert, liav iuii,' loni;- like>l '•' the Cedars," a little shootiiiu'-hox between ested its a(-l(ii>lion, and took euark an(l l>t'lleviile, suii'ii' X up his entii'e residence there shortly after ]\[rs. Herbert's death. It is a romantic little s[)ot, only an acre of groinid, and the cotlau'e i- built in the Mary Tudor style, so situ- ated as lo be endiowei'eil in foliau'e. Ilei'e the mind of " I'' rank Forester" Lj'ave forth "My SI a I loolinii" !)ii\ Id lie i' K .■^Dol ndon iiouiK man .M, mmu )alhi'!s of the Anu'rican Re\'(ilutiou,'" s of America,"' '"The Deer Stalkers,'' Fish and Fishing of Xnrlh iii' Sporfs- T lb "The ^)uor Aniei'ica,'" '• Came in i;^ Seiisoii,"^," ''The "^ ani 1, hnallv, his u'reat <'U1 I. woi'i< oil le ILn'se and Ilorsemanshi]) of America.'' Ainoii^' the un- iinished work.-^ at the time of his death wert\ "Tricks and Trap^ of IIor>edealers," 'Vllints to Horsekeepers," etc. As 11. AV, llerbei't he was e(pially l)Usy, altlioinji, jjcrhaps uot yet so p(ipularly known, by such works as "The Roman Traitor, a Romance fomideil on Calaliiie's onspii'acv, ]i ublished in Js-is. Th: s was foil OWtMl i i • II I ! i ( Hi XXVIU A FEW ^lEMOIRS OF a A ]\[ctrical Translation of tlic Proniotlions and Aira- nu'uinon of ^f^sclivlur " u TI onrv YIIL aiu 1 1 us S IX ^\ IVC- '' u The Cavaliers of Enn-land," "The Clicvaliors of Franco," "Tlie Knights of England, Franco, and Scot- land," "The Captains of the OUtArorld," "Persons and Pictures from the Histories of France and England," "The Captains of the Iloiuan Ilepnblic," and "The ^^agvr of Battle." P.ut the greatest elfort in this class of writing remains unfinished — a spirited translation from the "Iliad" of Homer ; there is also a heantil'ullv roman- tic account (,)f "The Marvs of History," the ]\IS. being quite com[)lete, as he left it, but of course additional characters might be selected. Besides these ackno\vk'(lgcd works, his contributions to news[)apers and magazines are almost countless. In 1S50 he gave much time to a ])ai)er called "Tlie Sunday Era," and in 1851 to another called "The Sachem," both published in New York, lie also contributed numy ar- ticles to what is now known as " Ballou's Pictorial," in Boston. Dv. Patterson's "Anglo-American," about 1830, had fledged his pen foi- ne\vspa})ers. We have more occasion to speak of Ilei'bert as a writer than his })rivate atl'airs as u man; but, in order to make this sketch as compU'te as pos>ible, we must record the fact that he hail some ti'illing disjuite with a legal gentleman named \'a!eiitiiie, which resulled in a duel, and took place near IlerbcrtV re>idence at "the Cedars." After Herbert had lieen .-hot near one of his ankh's, and Mr. A'ali'iitiiie lo-t a 1)ulton from his Avaistband, the atfair M'as amicably settled )V a sail comculence M'ltli H er- bert's sid)se(pient fate, wi' may state t';;ii All-. A'^aliMitine committed suicide shoi'lly after this duel. Tlie ])re\ious duel in wliich Ilerbrrl's naiiu' \v:'.s concerned owed most of its notoi'iety to the fact that it almost immediately fol- lowed ihe fatal rencttiitre between I'arton and (ii'aham, at c 61 •1 n| a o li IIENKY WTT.T.TA^r TIICKBERT. XXIX n M ITol)(il,'ewai'k, X. J., and Xew York, amiounccd the nuirriaj^'e of IFenry William Herbert with Adela U. Ihulloui:'. as liaviii^- taken place 01 I the 10th of that mouth. Tliev were nuirried bv tl le liev. John Shacklef>rd, at the I'^piscopalian House of 1 rayer, in Newark Tl lis aiiuouncement caused couside (h able gossip, but that somi subsio to have such a irreat re House, thiid^iiii;' tliat more lively com[)any and less slanderous callers would be moi'e au'reeable f )r .Mrs. IFer- bert. His clear use of re:!s<»n never fullv rallied after he discovered her dejiarture ; and, when he received a letter stating that she W(udd not visit him again, he spoke fre- qu 'Utl V ol connnittmg suicule, on the same dav o the month ill which he was marrie(l. His friends became al; inued and w atclied his movements; but, about t W(» o'clock in th(! morning of the ITtli of Mav, IS.'iS, the un- ,'l ! 1 1 f if ll K i I i ! i XXX A FEW MEM0TK3 OF lorliiii;it-o fjontlcmaii shot liimpclf wliile in liis room at. tlio Stevens House, after wiflulrawing- ior a niomoit or two from tlio ]M'Lsonce of Mi-. rhili[) Hono Antlinii, who liad l)een in his company all the pre\ioiis day and even- inj^-. The result was fatal. Two letters were found npou TIerhert's table. One was addressed to " the coroner," aJid tlie other to " the Press of the Ignited States." Tlioy I'ead as follows : — Monday, May 10, 1^5S (.three inontlis since tlio hiippiest day of my life.) To avoid all trouble, and simplify your duty, I liavc to state that I have taken my own life by a pislol shut, no one being privy to my doinj^ it, or to my desiun. ^ly reason for this act consists in no remorse for what T have done, or left undone : from no pecuniary '^iressnre, D'om no inability, or 'fear of inability to support myself, from no weak fear of public opinion, least of all of New York, which I do now, as I always have done, utterly disrep^ard and despise ; from no embarrassment arising from any indebtedness. I have abundiuice of employment, and the prospect of much more — had the people of Newark-, whom I foririve, from the bottom of my heart, sufl'ered me to live honorably and happily in my humble home, and to amend my life where it was in ei'ror. in a new sphere, which I was honestly prepared to do. 1 mi;^ht have paid olfall my debts, and lived many ycius among you, an honest, useful, and hapi)y man. My debts will be jtaid from my assets to the last dollar. It was not, however, so to be. My blood, and the guilt of it, is upon tho^e women and men who fir.-i sowed .suspicion, distrust and dis- sension between myself and tlie sweetest creature God ever gave, and man took away from an unhappy sinner. My own imhappy temper did the rest. The reason for this act, then, is simple. M3' life, long, sad, soli- tary and weary, and without an object beyond labor to earn a living for the day, has become utterly luipele.ss, hateful, iind unendurable. A hoyic had been kindled in my heart a;rain ; my home had got a lit:ht in it brighter than sunshine; my life had a purpose; I loved her un- utterably; T was immeasurably happy — all this lias been dashed dinvn — all is lost forever. Hour — hope — sunshine, she — let life go likewise, since, henceforth, it is oidv another word for torture. IIEXRT WTLT.TAM ITTimiERT. XXXI T would not deny fal-ely one fniiU of wliioli T fim roTT-'cioi!?. espe- cially at this last inoiiiont — I woiiM not deny tliat T orrcd towards Irt whom this day shows '.hal 1 loved more lliaii life. I diil y premeditation, or I'ailed to a-k pardon, or to make atonement when 1 could do so. I never bore malice in my life. I repent of all my faults and sins, and have endeavored to amend them. 1 die in perfect peace and chai-ity with all men. I a>k forgiveness of all th/ise against whom T have sinned. I forgive all those who have sinned against me, even the woman whoc:dled at mj' own house, and set my wife's thoughts first against me — in jjroof of it I am sure I know her, j'et do nut name her name. 1 l^^g (iod to f irgivo me, as I forgive all my enemies. 1 die in perfect faith and trust in my Re- deemer, and believe in him 1 shall have eternal life. IIknrv William IIi;ubi-rt. J \\ ii i I ! My soli- lit in un- shed [c go To the Press of the ruited S/afes: Before going to my account. I would say a few words to the Press of America, and to its cond;:etors, a^ to men among wlinm 1 have, for many years, been more or less associated. T have my faults, my failinus : I have done my share of evil, in my life, as all men have done ; perhaps I have done my share of good. likewise. Of my private history Cvw men know any thing — fewer still know much — no one knows the whole. Tl cannot concern the jj.iblic to know any thing. As a writer let me be judged — as a man \vt my God jiulgc me. T implore not praise, nor a favorable construction — T implore PihKNCE. For what 1 have to account with (lod. let me accmnt with God, and not with man ; who may uncertainly perceive and distin- i'liV 11 i! XXXIl A ff:\v :\rKMoins of |l <: M 'I; I fruisli facts, but certainly cannot perceive causes or divine motives and intentions. I do not even ask charity ; I only implore silence. Let the good that 1 have done, if any, be interred with my bones ; let the evil also. For tho evil, I can say positively, is such as can do no evil after me. I have tau};ht, I have inculcateu, I have put furlh nothiufj; which I did not believe to be good and true. In all my life 1 have written no line of which I am ashamed — no word whicli I desire to blot. I have done many tilings wronglv, many things of which I am ashamed, many things of which T have sincerely re[)ented, n\any things, under tho pressure of poverty and necessity, to which I am not accustomed by my education, which, I hoi/C, I should not do again under any temi)tation. 1 am very sorry. I have been weak at times, and hp\ c fallen — who has not done so ? For justice sake, for charity's sake, for God's sake, let me rest, I bear an honorable name; I have striven hard, in great trial, in great temptation, in a foreign country, in a false position, among men who did not, perhaps could not, sympathize with me, to keep it honorable. As you would have your own names honored, and j'our sons preserve them to you, I charge you, do not dishonor mine. Few will miss me when I am gone; pi )i ably none lament rae — so be it ! Onl}', T inii)lore you, do not misrepresent and malign me. Having said this. I have said nearly all — one word more only — if, as I presume will be the case, my earnest and hopeful appeal for re- pose be disregarded — if the vultures of the Press pounce on my cold remains, to tear through them the heartstrings of my living relatives — to blazon forth all my misdeeds in unblushing colors to the sun — let none of my friends — if I ha\e a friend — stand forth to defend me. Defence only provokes bitterer attacks, and gives a keener tooth to scandal. I die forgiving every man who has wronged mo. asking forgiveness of every man whom 1 have wronged. I have atoned so far as I know, or can atone, for every wrong I have ever done. I leave the means, I believe, if they be carefully managed, to pay every thing that I owe, and perhaps to leave a small surplus. I never shrank, while I was alive, from meeting the consequences of my deeds, face to face. I never said a word to a man's back which I would not or did not say to his face. llemember now, all you that would assail me, tJiat my Intclc is turned, forever — that hencefoith. forever, I can disprove no slander HENIIV ^VII,I.IAM iii:ur.EKT. XXXlll tV.at is spnlcon of mo; that with mo no witness can he ever moro mn- froiitod ; tliat from no accusation, liow false soo\er, can I prove my- self not LTuiltv. Of all eowardice, the most base and cruel is to strike the dead, who can make no defence or answer. I ask no praise — do not praise me — probaljly T deserve none. I deserve reproach, doubtless, for I am mortal, and have siimod. Say so, then, of me, if you say any thing, and let my sins '^o with my mortality to llis judgment who can tell not only when and where, but vlii/ they were committed, and how far they have palliation, how far they deserve pardon. Remember, also, when you judge mo, that of all lives mine has been, almost, the most unhajjpy. No counsellor, no fiiend, no country, have been mine for six and twenty weary years. Every hope has broken down under my foot as soon as it has touched it. Every sjjark nf happiness has been quenched as soon as it has been kindled. If 1 have sinned much, and sorrowed luucli, I iiave also loceil much — more, per- haps, than I have either sinned or sorrowed. It is the last drop that overflows the golden bowl, the last tension that breaks the silver cords. My last hope is gone — my last love and my life go together, and so good night to Henry IIkrbert. May 16, 1S53. At the first aniioiuiccment of Herbert's death, his friends iiuturally viewed his last injunction of ''silence'' in a positive and forbidding sense, and the following hasty, but evidently heartlelt, remarks were immediately written by the gifted and renowned "Acorn," wdiose friendship Herbert had had the lionor of enjoying. Surely any very bad nuiu could not have caused so spontaneous an expression of relincd and honorable feelings from his literary compeers and associates, especially from one whose acquaintance had existed for a quarter of a cen- tury :— HEXRY WILLIAM HERBERT. "Tlie evil Uiat men do lives iiftor tlioin ; The good is oft interred with their bones." The friends of II. W. ITerbert. in this city, were appalled at the announcement of his death, a few days since. The sad intelligence m I' i Mf li. i : 'I ' ' ' . I I 1 ' •! i' I ! i: I id' ' XX.XIV A FF.w MI■:^roII:s of f(l! 111)011 tlio heart of tlie writer, who has knowii him for over a (jiiMrtcr of a ociifury. like n witlierin^ mil'lcw. and. were it not for the (lyiiiLT iujiinction of ]«>or Ikvli.rt, thiit lii.^ rritiul,; should reiiiuiii t^\- kiit. my feeble pen, directed hy tlie best energies of my brain, should reveal the deep syitipjithies of my lieurt for one whose life, aUhonj^h suiiieuliiit wayward, was nevertheless marked by many virtues and brijrht deeds. Ileniy Will'am Herbert, the brilliant genius and rare scholar, is in his grave I " After lifc'.-j nifiil IVvrr lie hloei-s well." For charity's sake, let not the sanrtity of that grave be desecrated by heartless or unfeeling scribblers, simply to feed or gratify the ajjpetites or morbid tastes of those whose wicked and maligiuint shuvlers were mainly instrutnental in wrecking so bright a mind ! Al'lcr IVenzying tliat once nolile intellect, and semling its owner unbidden into the presence of his Maker, may we not hope, for hr.manity's sake, (hat the portals of the grave maybe a barrier against the poisonous tongue of the earth's greatest pestilence — the n^an'h'rer ! For the sake of those whose veins bear kindred bhxjd, and whoso hearts and spirits arc now bowed down to the dust, forlitar. I implore you. and no longer aim your poisoned and malignant arrows of re- venge at the dead, through the already lacerated s])irit- of the living! But let the f lults and the weaknesses of him, wliose earthly career met so melancholy and fearful an end. slumber in -ilence with his ashes m the tomb I For nv^rcy's sake, let his kind acts and charitable deeds, only, rest in the mhids of his fellow-men. {ni many s-uh acts and deeds are known to the writer, which will assuredly be placed to the cren\ lio a|tpoiiit?(l as ]\U oxocutor, was tlio fnllowin-j^, a»kli "ssod to Mr. FAiisoii, a right trusty and woU-bolovcJ neighbor, in Newark : — Mv Dear Mii.ks I'Anson: TIi<' time has coinc, and I rail upon you witli thu lust words of a dyinp; couiitryuiau to come ami peifoiin your promise. My last friend, do not fail me. When you receive this I shall l>e lying dead in the cemetery. I could not he easy in New York, and I must not he huried in the I'ot- ler's Field or hy charity. Have me dressed in the clothes which I have put in the carpet bajr, with the little packet 1 have sewn to the sliirt upon my heart, and the pin-cushion with '' Herbert " pricked upon it, under my head — a plain oaken coUlu, with lliis inscription only: "Henry William nerl)ert— ajred 51." Let me be buried in your lot ; .send the coffin down by the steamer ; no funeral and no pomp. I send a note to ^Ir. Shackleford ; he will perform the service. I enclose a draft for ten pounds sterlinj» on my sister, which will pay all expenses; I have written to her. Come the moment you re- ceive this, or you will be too late, and they will thrust me into some hole away fi'oni humanity. She has refused all reconciliation absolutely and forever, but she is not to blame, and it is my last request that no friend of mine will blame her or defend me, except to say what I solemn- ly swear with my dying breath, that I did not marry her for money — that T. did not know when I mari'ied her, and do not know 7u»r^ whether she has any money or how much — that I never had a word or disj)ute with her about money, and never said one imkind word until that Monday, when T threatened my life if she would not tell me who had accused me to her falsely. God forgive and God 1)less her ! I forgive all men who have wronged me, and ask forgiveness of all whom I have wronged. Every shilling T owe in America will be paid from the lease of the house and the books T leave behind me. ready to be published. Give my best parting love to all my friends, think of me sometimes as a most miserable man, yet your true friend, Henry Wm. Herbert, Stevens Ilouae. t I'l ji ^il l^'l! ii .; , !i ^i W May 15, 1953. VOL. I. 1 ' t 1 , 1; ■ 1 1 ri XXXV 1 A FEW MEMOIRS OF T wish in have a very small, very plain headstone, of Little Falls, or Belleville stone, with this inscription : IIENllY WILLIAM HERBERT, of EXGLAND, Aged 51 years. Iiifelkhishnus. Will you take care of Vixen ? She has been my only comfort. She has never left me for one moment. I am sure she knows I am wretched. God bless you and your wife ! Hero we may perceive liow bravely the fine spirit of " Frank Forester " continues to shine out, even from the sliattered mind of II. AV. Herbert. He cannot bear tlio thouglit of being buried " away from Immanity." No, indeed. Then, with regard to poor little Vixen, (a l)lack- and-tan favorite among liis dogs,) he is quite sure that " SHE knows I am wretched." Another of the private letters, directed to one of Herbert's most esteemed friends, reads as follows, and shows tlie chivalry of a spirit which could not bear to be suspected : — " My Dear What is done is done and cannot be undone. 1 know you will blame and probably despise me ; but the sti-ength of one man is the weakness of another, and I could not endure the agony I have been suffering. If ever I have vexed, wronged, or offended you, I sincerely and humbly beg your pardon. As the last request of a dying man, T entreat you, on account of this, not to throw up my affairs, but to endeavor to settle them fully. I am satisfied that with the rent of the Cedars and my own goods, &c., there will be enough to pay every thing that I owe on earth. I have the manuscript of three books all ready for the pi-ess, wiiich ought to produce at least .^1000, and I think that in view of this act of mine, good or bad, they would sell even now — I assure you that I have received a letter from my beloved wife, HEXRY WILLIAM IlERIJERT. XXXVU which exonerates her of all blame, except for ovcr-credulousncss. sensitiveness, and a weak fear of me, who would have died a hundied times rather than harm her. I entreat you as my last request, not only not to speak, but not to think unkindly of her. Never seek to defend my memory at any suit to her discredit — only you can assert, for I consulted you before we were married, and you know it, that I never cared, nmch less knew, or inquired any thing about her property or troubled her about it. Remember, always, that T love her beyond any thinj^ on earth. I would even ask you, if it ever be in your power, to protect and assist her as my beloved widow. ***** Fare you well, old friend ; think sometimes of old days, and your friend, IIenky Wm. IIerbert. The general directions for tlie funeral (wliicli liad an attendance of the liighest respectability) were faithfully obeyed. The corpse was taken to "the Cedars," and liero the picture of desolation, caused by the sudden stoppage of all " Frank Forester's " little plans of comfort and use- fulness, seemed sad indeed. Here it was that he had hoped to entwine the jessamine of amiability and the lin- den of conjugal atfection among the cedars of glory which tower to the skies. But now, under a clouded aberration of his usual life-hearty intellect, our own well-beloved " Frank Forester " had thrown himself into the arms < 'f Death, as if irresistibly impelled by the chastening rod of a sorrow which was more than he could endure : — "Dear, beauteous Deoth! thou jewel of the just, Shining nowhere but in the dark I "What mysteries do lie beyond thy dust, Could man out-look the mark ! " As the deceased gentleman was himself the sen of a minister in the Episcopal communion, and well knew that the rubrics of the " Book of Common Prayer " forbid any ii> i! 'li ^1 |i'' 11 lii . i . " f ^ ' I hi XXXVlll A FEW MEMOIRS OF ministoi' niicler that discipline to perform funeral services at the grave of persons who may have committed suicide, the ])rocoedings on the present occasion were somewhat novel. Rev. Mr. Shackleford, the clergyman officiating at the marriage of Herbert with his last wife, was pres- ent ; and, after the company had taken a last look at the corpse, the reverend gentleman alluded to the above cir- cumstances, and regretted that his obligations of duty forbade him to appear in any other capacity than as a friend of the deceased, luhose faults (he felt snre) locre all 0)) the surface of his character, hut lohose vu'tues vjere more nKmerous than could he generalltj hunon. All true friends of the dear, departed Herbert, would therefore follow the remains slowly and silently to the grave, and see them slowly and silently interred, with only those expressions which might be suggested or occur from a nmte sorrow. Expressing a hope that the God above, who alone can judge of sincerity of heart, would have mercy upon the soul of the deceased, and of all those now present, the reverend gentleman concluded his remarks, and a silent sorrow pervaded the entire assend)lage. Tlie procession passed through the gate by which the grounds of IMount Pleasant Cemetery, adjoining "the Ce- dars," are entered. It was at this s])ot where Herbert and his wife shared that kiss which became a parting kiss, and where, according to the letter left for Mr. I' Anson, Herbert expected to die. Some green twigs from the neighboi-ing trees were sadly but hopefully thrown upon the coffin, and the assemblage departed. " Youth flies, life decuys, even Lope is o'ercast ; No more with love's termer devotion we sue : lie spreads his young wing, he retires with the blast; The shroud of alfectiou is love's last adieu I " or vices .uicifle, aewliat ciatinj]; .s prea- : at the »vc cir- )t' duty an as a ocre all re more : friends low the them resbions sorrow. )iie can pon the eut, the silent 11 ch the the Ce- erbert (f kiss, Anson, )ni tlie n upon ast; IIENEY WILLIAM HERBERT. XXXI X Probably no man ever lived who was more likely to realize the poetical measure of mit^d'y indicated by sucli a case, as we find it expressed in Anacreontic lyrics, and familiarized in Byronian lines than Herbert : — ■ " Oh ! mark you yon pair : in tlie sunshine of youth Love twined round their cliildliood liis llowers as tliey grew; Tliey tiourish awhile in the season of truth, Till chill'd by the winter of love's last adieu ! " " In vain with endearments we soothe the sad heart, In vain do Ave vow for an age to be true ; The chance of an hour may command us to part, Or death disunite us in love's last adieu ! " The circumstances attending Herbert's second mar- riage were nnich more romantic than those of the first, but we prefer to leave these matters for the developments of time and legal investigation. We feel free to say, however, that Herbert has been "more sinned against than sinning." As for his striking a woman, or caring about her money, that might have been possible — when sky -larks run a (piarter-race oi* eagles play at skittles. Kotwithstanding Herbert's own estimation of the feel- ings entertained towards him in ]S"ewark, and around the neighborhood of his residence, there need be no doubt (aiul it is a nuitter of pride to observe the fact now) that he was mistaken on that nuitter, so far as regards tlie respectable portion of the ])opulation. It was a ])art of the great error which his mind labored under. The news of his death was received with expressions of general n i I r;. ■'h 1 ^1 1 •■ 1 , i . 1 1 r ■ 1 J m I I i:|" ! :ii ::i! xl A FEW MEMOIRS OF rciirof, as well as caiisiiia: tlie grief of tliosc associates M'lio iniglit well say, in old Iloinau style, — " Friends, I o^ve more teai's To this dead man than thou shalt sec me pay." Mr. TIios. T. Kinney, the talented editor of the " Xew- ark Daily Advertiser,"' seems to have been a constant and particnlar friend of the lamented Herbert. The most antlientic statements of Herbert's last tronblcs may bo found in the columns of that admirable journal, and Mr. Kinney now has in his possession the little black-and-tan terrier, Vixen, })oor " Frank Forester's" true friend, who remained faithful to the last, winnin^^ from him the title of his " only comfort." Many persons connected with the New Ynvk book-trade reside in that part of Xew Jersey, and were, more or loss, acquainted with Herbert, but we know of no one M'ho has not acknowlcdo'ed a panix of grief on learning the untimely end of " Frank Forester," the gay and rollicking ju-eceptor of Young America in the "gentle science of woodcraft," that science which is always ancient and ever new to youthful hearts and em- ulative s})irits. The omission of certain ceremonies at the grave of poor Herbert may furnish some satisfaction to the vul- tures of vituperation. Herbert well knew this. His words to Rev. Mr. Sluickleford were, " Do the best you can for me." But, that Herbert's friends were numerous and enthusiastic in the place of his residence, may be in- ferred from the fact that when Eev. Henry B. Sherman, liector of Christ Church, Belleville, K. J., offered to second any judicious compromise which might be sug- gested to save Herbert's body from being consigned to the grave without some token of Christian burial, the reverend gentlenum's kindness met with a prompt response I I I HENRY WILLIAM HEKBERT. xli as a kindness (for liis action was courteously dispensed with), by a large number of the most influential citiz^^ns of Xewark and vicinity, as soon as they understood the circumstances of the case. A testimonial to Mr. Sher- man was subscribed for, and we append the document as a sufficient refutation of the absurd slander that IIerl)ert lacked friends in the place where he was best known. The signers are all fair " representative men," well (quali- fied to speak for j^ewark : — The subscriljers, desirous of showing their regard for the Rev. Ilenry B. Sherman, of Belleville, and especially their admiration of Ids conduct at the funeral of the late Ilenry W. Herbert, in his wil- lingness to perform some Christian ceremony over the grave of the deceased, cheerfully contribute to the amount necessary to procure a suitable testimonial. John Morrison, Wm. T. Mercer, F. II. Dawes, F. E. Berier, E. A. Carman, Geo. B. Ilalsted, Alex. N. Dougherty, M. D., F. W. Ricord, Thos. B. Peddio, Thos. T. Kinney, A. Bigelow, J. P. Pennington, Lewis C. Grover, J. D. Orton, Cornelius W. Tolles, J. Callaway, G. (u-ant, M. D., Bethu.'l L. Dodd, M. D., Silas ^Merchant, Wm. S. Faitouto, I. M. Andruss, Abram Coles, M. D., James Ross, R. B. Ilathorn, Cortlandt Parker, O. II. Ilalsted, Jr., n. B. :Miller, A. Schalk, II. Schalk, 0. T. Zoigler, A. M. W. Ball, T. Seaman, Morris R. Hamilton, N. N. nalsted, J. A. Pennington, Richmond Ward, A. Jackson Drake, U. S. N., J. Southard. A l)eautifully bound copy of Herbert's " Horse and Ilorsennmship of America," his most elaborated and com- 1 u 1 if, I ! 1 I;/ I ,i| i l! li,:! r if I. i « fffnf f 1 t 1 u i : : ; I 1:1 "'li , i 1 .' ■ t xlii A FEW jn^^rOTRS OF pletc •work, one of the most splendid Looks produced hy the arts of })riiitiii^i^, engraving, and binding, — acknowl- edged to be the best work of the kind in the world, and the most successful j)ul)lication of its class by sub- scription, — was ]>resented to Mr. Sherman as the most appropriate and acceptable gift they could select, and the presentation was accom])anied by a s})irited and suitable letter from Mr. F. W. Uicord, chairman of the committeo having the matter in charge. The liev. Henry T>. Slier- man's letter of acknowledgment does him great honor; and the whole proceedings show that both national feel- ing and Christian sentiment were warmly enlisted on be- half of the unfortunate deceased, notwithstanding his many eccentricities. Let it not be said on either side of the Atlantic, for it is not tt'ut', that Americans ever failed to reward the talents of " Frank Forester." What was Herbert is now '* Frank Forester," for ever, in American literature. The latter was not exactl}' " the Persian rose " but " the flower that grew besid j it," and now we can hardly tell which most attracts the admira- tion of the world. There is a grand moral to be drawn from Herbert's untimely fate. It teaches us that if even he, out among the fields with his dog and gun, or cantering aUmg the road with a free-breathing courser, or tickling tlie trout out of their native streams, even he — the all-conquering " Frank Forester " — must succund) to consuming cares and hopeless passions, how refpiisite it is for all of us to be on our jj-uard aijainst falling into a similar abnonnal state, by patronizing a due share of field si^orts, or at least some stated relaxations from business by the aid of travel and agreeable society. To professional and literary men, especially, Herbert's case is full of warning, and their matrimonial partners wouhl do well to learn that society has " rights " as well as individuals. A more conserva- }rt's Ollg the fout ring inal 3ast Ivel en, leir •3 ■■i i i * HENRY WILLIAM ITERBERT. xllii five tone of action seems needed by all classes, and tlio cultivation of suitable out-door sports for the })coplc is a sul)jeet wortiiy of the wisdom of a second AVashixgton. Herbert had all the selt'-sustainiui^ hardihood of a Dante with the fertile aptitude of a Brougham. l>ut, look at the dreadful cost of such efforts. See the morbid irritability of Johnson, Pope, or Byron. See the tuMd)le- (lowii helplessness of Tom Moore, and even the carefully consc'i'vative Bob Southey, in their old days. Hark to the plaintive cries from Tasso's cell. Observe the tierce iusanity of Collins or Swift. AYhat should we say of Boe, c>r Lii)pard, or North ? What should we say of those who are said to " die young" in the vain attempt at literary glory i Our own Tuckerman has judiciously observed that "God is not less worshipped by select intelligences, thi'oiujh Jiddiiy to the natural laws, than by celebrating his glory in the trium})hs of art." The sad case of Hugh Miller must be fresh in the imnds of our readers, as that of tlie great devotional geologist who lately shot himself in Scotland, while in his studio, surrounded by %ne, easy circumstances, and the consolations of religion. And yet, so dreadful are the life-exhausting effects of severe study, that only the very thoughtless would dare to sit in judg- ment on its unfortunate victims. To the credit of Herbert, " Our Own Frank Foi-ester," we may say that his field sports did save him from dwhidling down to a misanthrope. Let us be thaidvful that he did not I'each that deploral)le degree of mental de":radation. A lover of Nature cannot harbor a very bad heart. Hence we find that Herbert did not leave his ever-faithful " Vixen" unprovided for; and, so far from being any thing like a misanthrope, he begs and prays that he may not be buried " away from humanity." That Herbert's intellectual jjowers had been by no means impaired, but were on an increase of ability, can F n I i ! 1 ! ■\ .1: 1 if 1 1 jjli ill! » U% M xllv A FEW :\rF.M(>ms op bo easily seen in Lis latest writiiip:s. Among these we may mention the beautiful story of " Omemees," which he commenced in " Porter's Spirit of the Times," when that admirable s})orting paper was started by Messrs. Porter and Wilhes, in Septendjer, 1S5G. The opening paragraph of this interesting tale is one of the finest de- scriptions of the loveliness of a Septcnd)er morning, among American scenery, that over was written in prose. The whole contribution reads as if its author was anxious to repay the fostering kindness of his old friend of "the Spirit;" and ^V. T. Porter's associate editor, George AVilkes, very properly called public attention to it, in their first numlier, as a "loud, ringing peal from the cla- rion of Frank Forester," And so it is, now ringing in our cars more sweetly sonorous than ever, ins])iring renewed reverl)erations every year among those hearts which can enjoy the glories of our September landscapes. Perhaps the day may not be for distant when the im- portance of " condition " will be familiarly understood to have (piite as much intluence ui)on mankind as upon the lower animals. If Herbert had had the timely benefit of good medical advice, or — what is much more rarely found — the wisdom of docility in obedience to its teachino-g, he might, in all probability, so far as human calculation could tell, have been s})ared for a longer and more useful life, cheering us with the continued creations of his charming pen. Scarcely any class of men are so a]^t to " break doM^n " as public writers. Critical and splenetic by acquired habits, if not by nature, engaged in a sedentary emj)l()y. menr, and continually forcing the activity of their cere- bral region, all at once, when, ])erhaps, their most intiniare friends may not tliink of the real cause, the balance of judgment — or, what amounts to the same in i)raclice, '' the blood and judgment are not well commingled" — is thus ■ % •I IIENKY WILLIAM HERBERT. xlv set asiMo. Tin's mi'sfortnno may or may not assume a very decisive or sudden character in outward a]>pcarance, any more than otlier forms of monomania need necessarily be violent in their demonstrations. IJut, it is at M'ork, nev- ertheless, and interfering with the normal coherence of ideas, especially if any acrimony of tl.'o blood is allowed to remain long enough for the creation of morbid luimors. In all the arrangements made by Herbert for his suicide, funeral, etc., the usual vigor of his intellect ex])ressc3 itself in the remarkably })recise and deliberate directions lie so rapidly gave in writing. lie is " all right," except on the " one idea " — and this wrong idea (without being, perha]>s, perceptible to unpractised observers) was the result of a m(.)rbid condition — gradually sui)erinducing an abnornuil mentality — like the last efforts of an expiring flame, which finally destroys itself. There need be no doubt that if Herbert's brain, plexus, arterial system, etc., had been restored to their usually harmonized degree of " condition," so noble and gifted a mind — instead of wrongfully supposing itself to be in the riglit — would never have committed the sad error of judg- ment we now so deeply deplore. The peculiar phase of j^hrenitis he labored under api')ears to have been quite suflicient for gradually taking away his moral accounta- bility. The lesson is sometimes tauglit to the most gifted minds — before they leave this sublunary sphere — that Heaven is our oidy Fi'iend, our only Refuge, our oidj Saviour. Let us, therefore, fervently hope that human charity will leave poor Herbert's final error to the oidy Pcnvor capable of judging that and all his other failings. These failings — or whatever they may be termed — are not mentioned here from any morbid desire to parade them in connecti(m with so bright an example ; for, be it remembered that, down to the last of Herbert's instruc- tive life, the very manner of the unfortunate — most uufor- !? 1 1 ' ( I . H I i| xlvi HENRY "Wn.LIAM HERBERT. tunate — gentleman's death is one more additional pro(jf of how much we all need greater regard lur out-of-door sports, conversational hilarity, or heavenly aspirations, while less attention should be given to corroding cares, passionate impulses, or rash conclusions. "We have merely endeavored to impartially describe that "Frank Forester" whose gentle, Init proud spirit, scorned the vulgarity of carving his name upon the rising tree of American great- ness in any manner that could ])ossibly injure any other person, but has derived his principal pleasure while living — and his most glorious fame after death — from the fact that as soon as we take up one of his books, that noble si)irit — sweetly responsive to our own — seems to take us also by the hand, leading us forth into forest wild or homestead beautiful, where we may willingly acknowl- edge the magic sway of the original and creative " Frank Forester '' himself, while he guides our field sports, sug- gests our healthy pastimes, teaches ns to tread lightly among those beautiful flowers which the poets well de- scribe as " the scriptures of the earth," or imparts an ad- ditional tone of elegance to those charming tamily circles where eyes of light and forms of beauty come forth to grace the scene. Much more — very much more — might be written by pens competent or worthy to discuss the memoirs of Henry William Herbert. Less we could not have said, in ordinary justice. After all, while conscious of the comparative incompleteness of our effort, and we have said our say, or sung our lay, as best we may, " The rest — let Sorrow say." •I ;; > ill m FIELD SPORTS OF THE UNITED STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES. N the occasion of commencing, it is now several years ago, a series {S^ of papers in a leading monthly *)|,^ magazine, " On the Game of North America, its nomenclature, habits, haunts, and seasons ; with hints on the science of woodcraft" — I introduced the subject, by the fol- lowing general remarks, and it ap- pears to me that, inasmuch as they are not only still applicable, but have in effect become more and more evidently true, owing to the lapse of time since their publication, during which the evils complained of have increased tenfold, 1 cannot do better than repeat them, as entirely germane to the matter, and as aptly introductory to that which is to follow. " There is, perhaps," I remarked, " no country in the world which presents, to the sportsman, so long a catalogue of the f- MlH: I , ! V I i. • I lilt I 12 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. lit clioicest giinic, whetlier of I'ur, fin, or fcallier, as the Uniteil States of North America ; tliere is none, prohahly, which counts more numerous, or more anient, devotees ; there is none, cer- tainly, in which the wide-spread passion for the duise can he in'.liilj;c(l, under so few restrictions, and at an expense so tritliiiu;. " Yet all this, notwithstaiidin;jj, it is to he regretted greatly that there is no country in which the nomenclature of these /era: na- tiine, these roving denizens of wood, wold and water, is so con- fused and unscientific ; none, in which their hahits are so little known, and their seasons so little reganled ; none, in which the gentle craft of Venerieis so often degraded into mere pot-hunting; and none, in which, as a natural consequence, the game that swarmed of yore in all the fields ai;d forests, in all the lakes, rivers, hays, and creeks of its vast territory, are in such peril of hecoming speedily extinct. " That in a nation, every male iahahltant of which is, with but rare exceptions, a hunter, and roady with the gun almost beyond example, this should he the case, can be explained only by the fact that, as I have said beforl little is known generally of the hahits of game ; and that the A.rest and choicest species are slaughtered inconsiderately, not jrerhaps wantonly, at such times and in such manners, as are rapidly causing them to disap- pear and become extinct, " That such is the case, can be proved in a few words, and by reference to a few examples. The most evident, perhaps, of these, is the absolute extinction of that noble bird, the Heath- Hen, or Pinnated Grouse, Tetrao Cupido, on Long Islaiul, where, within the memory of our elder sportsmen, they might be taken in abundance at the proper season, but where not a solitary bird has been seen for years. In the })ines on the south- western shores of New Jersey, and in the oak-barrens of north- eastern Pennsylvania, the same birds were also plentiful within a few years ; but now they are already rarcn avef; ; and, after a few more returns of the rapidly succeeding seasons, they will be entirely unknown in their old-accustomed places." The same thing is the case, in a yet greater degree, with re- I! •s INTRODUCTORV OUSEUVATIONS. 13 gard to the Wild Turkey. It is not yet half a century since these birds, the noblest wild j^ame of the Gallinaceous order, abounded on the slopes of the Warwick and ^lusconetcong Mountains ; in the Shawanj^unks ; and, in a word, throu<;hout the whole lenj^th of the great chain, which connects the White Mountains of the north, with the Alle'^hanies proper. I have myself conversed with sportsmen, in the river counties of Xew York, who, in their boyhood, thou^^ht less of killinjij their half- dozen Wild Turkeys in the niornini^, than we sl\ould now-a-days of bagj^ing as many RufPed Grouse. At present, with the ex- ception of a few stragglers which, I believe, still exist on the Connecticut, about the rocky steeps of Mount Torn and Mount Holyoake, and a single drove, which are reported to be seen occasionally among the hill-fastnesses at the lower end of the Greenwood Lake, on the frontiers of New York and New Jersey, none are to be found until we reach the western regions of Pennsylvania. And, in fact, as a bird of sport, they are itut., any where on the eastern side of the great Apalachian chain. The Deer and the greater American Hare, which turns white in winter, are likewise already extinct in many places, where both could be captured, within the last twenty years, in such numbers as to afford both sport and profit to their pur- suers. In New Jersey, and in New York, .south of the forty-second degree of north latitude, with the exception of a small number carefully preserved on the brush-plains of Long Island, the Deer, Cervus Virginianus, has ceased to exist. And it re([uires no prophetic eye to see the day when this pride of the North Ame- rican forest shall have ceased to have its habitation any where eastward of Pennsylvania ; unless it be in the remote northern forests of Maine, in the mountains of New Hampshire and Ver- mont, and in that small district of New York, lying between the head waters of the Hudson, Lake Champlain, the St. Lawrence, and the eastern extremity of Ontario — which latter tract, owing to its singularly rugged and unproductive character, will proba- bly contain the Deer, the Moose, the Cariboo, the Panther, and / ■ 1 I . i! ■ M 14 FKANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. even the Beaver, after they shall have become extinct, even in the far West. It has been alleged, and by many is doubtless believed to be true, that the increase of population, the spread of cultivation, and the transfiguration of the woods and wastes into corn-lands and pastures, are in themselves an all-sufficient and irremediable cause for the disappearance of all the various kinds of game, the extinction of which the sportsman and ihe naturalist alike deplore. Were this the case, it would be needless to waste words on the subject — but so far is it from being the case, that with regard to very many kinds of game — several of those already cited, and others, which, though still numerous, will ere long be in the same predicament, so rapidly are they decreasing- -the very converse of the proposition is true. The Wild Turkey, the Pinnated Grouse, and its congener, the Ruffed Grouse, as also the much rarer bird of the same order, commonly known as the Spruce Partridge — the very existence of which was unknown to Wilson — all unquestionably do make their homes in the wilderness, the last-named there exclusively. But all the others, without exception, prefer the vicinity of cul- tivated regions on account of the plenty and cnoicer quality of the food ; and are found nowhere in such abundance as in those localities, which afford the combination of rough wild lying- ground, with highly cultivated land, on which to feed at uiorn and dewy eve. Thus, in the Eastern States, if you are in pursuit of the Ruffed Grouse, the surest places where to flush your game will not be the depths of the cedar swamp, or the summit of the mountain horrid with pine and hemlock, but on the slopes and ledges falling down to the cultivated vales, and in the skirts of briary woodlands, or in the red-cedar knolls, which remain yet unshorn in the midst of maize and buckwheat fields, which never fail to tempt this mountain-loving bird from his native fastnesses. In like manner, in the West, it is on the prairie, but in the vicinity of the boundless tracts of maize and wheat, which the industry of the white man has spread out over the hunting- iiwiili INTRODUCTORY OBSHRVATIONS. 15 grounds of the Indian, tliat the Pinnated Grouse is to be found in millions ; and the Turkey in similar situations, where the forest encircles the yet isolated clearings of the agricultural pioneer. Thus, of these three species, it is untrue that the spread of cultivation, unless in so far as that involves the increased numbers and increased persecution of the cultivators, has any detrimental effect on their propagation, or in anywise tends to decrease their numbers. For centuries yet to come, let Ame- rican induiitry develope and extend American agriculture as rapidly as ic may, there will be woodlands and wilds in abun- dance to furnish shelter for any quantity of game ; and there will always be fastnesses innumerable, which never will, be- cause they never can, be cleared, owing to the roughness of their surface, and the sterility of their soil, whether from eleva- tion above the sea, rockiness or swampiness of situation, or other natural causes, which it needs not to enumerate. Other species of game, so far from flying cultivation, or ab- horring the vicinity of civilized man, are literally not to be found except Avhere the works of the ox and the man are conspicu- ous ; never being seen at all in the wilderness proper, and giving cause for some speculation as to their whereabouts, their haunts, their habits, if not their existence on the conti- nent, previous to the arrival of civilized man, from realms nearer to the sun. Neither the Woodcock nor the Quail, Scolopax Minor, and Perdix, sive Ortyx Virginiana, are ever found in the depths of the untamed forest, aloof from human habitations ; though both genera frequent, nay require, woodland, as a sine qua non, for their habitation. Moreover, in places where they are entirely unknoAvn to the first settlers, where they do not in fact exist at all, they speedily become abundant, so soon as the axe levels the umbrageous forest, and the admitted sunbeams awaken or mature the germs of that animal or vegetable 'life, on which the birds subsist. This is, I presume, so generally known as a fact, that no proof thereof is necessary. I may, however, mention two or three VOL. I. 4 I I 1 : iM i' ! !! Im' 11 i 16 FKAXK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. '•l!:,;i ! ^' 'I, ■ if It :i;; i ! very distinct and remarkable instances of this fact, which have come under my own observation ; one with regard to the in- crease and spread of Quail, the others of Woodcock, into loca- lities where they were previously unknown. Some seventeen years ago, I visited JNiagara Falls for the first time, and travelled westward so far as the u])])er waters of the Thames and ihe Chenail Ecart(i in Canada West, shooting a little when oc- casion oilered, and making many enquiries concerning the va- rieties of game, and the habits of those to be found in the prov- ince. At that time, I enjoyed some extremely good Snipe shooting, close to the village of Niagara, at the embouchure of the river into Lake Ontario ; and, in fact, I saw more birds, and those tamer, than in any other place where I have ever shot them. I had no dog with me, and was completely ignorant of the country ; but in such multitudes were the Snipe feeding in e' ery fallovv-field and maize stubble — it was in the spring, immediately on the breaking of the frost — that I made a very large bag, in the course of a very few hours. At that period, the Woodcock was just becoming known on the frontier ; and a few birds were killed in the season ; they were, however, still extremely rare, and had been known, comparatively speaking, but a short time. Quail were utterly unknown, both in the Province and on the American side of the river. I had not journeyed many miles, ere I had outstripped the Woodcock ; and I could gain no tidings of his existence beyond the Ouse, or Grand River of the Mohawks. At this moment, probably, the best Woodcock shooting on the continent is to be obtained in the islands situate at the western end of Lake Erie, in the Detroit River, and in Lake St. Clair. Quail are also becoming exceedingly plentiful throughout that region. In the same manner, in the Eastern States, until within the last six years, the Woodcock has been unknown on the Penob- scot River, although abundant in the vicinity of Portland and Casco Bay, and in, the older settlements on the Kennebec. What renders it more evident, in t^e latter case, that it is the absence of civilization and not the severity of the climate, which I! ;J :l^ iill I. '^ I it te INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 17 nas so long deterred this bird of passage from visiting the east- ern parts of Maine, is the fact that, in the British Provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, much farther to the north- ward and eastward, and in the old cultivated French country below and around Quebec, the Woodcock has long been an object of pursuit by the sportsman, and of attainment by the gourmet. It may, therefore, be assumed at once, that the spread of agri- culture and civilization, in themselves, has no injurious operation, but rather the reverse, on any kind of winged game ; and that, in some instances, the progress of one is simultaneous with the increased numbers of the other. ^]ven with game of the largest kind, as Deer, Bear, Hares, aii'i he like, it is not the circumscription of their limits by ;, 1 1 fields, but the ruthless persecution to which they are subjected, which is gradually extinguishing them, where, within ten or fifteen years, they abounded. In the counties of Hampshire and Berkshire, in Massachusetts, of Dutchess, Putnam, Rockland and Orange in New York, and of Sussex, in New Jersey, there is an extent of forest land, wilder and more inaccessible, and in every way more suited to harbor herds of Deer, and ten times greater, than all the Deer forests in the Highlands of Scotland; in the former, you have perhaps rather a greater chance of meeting an elephant, thanks to the al)undance of menageries, than a hart or hind — in the latter, the Red Deer are more numerous now than they were two centuries ago. Hence it is evident, that there is no natural reason whatever, much less a necessary or inevitable one, for the rapid decrease and approaching extinction of all kinds of game, whether large or small, throughout the United States of America. Nor is it to br> attributed to any other cause than the reckless and ignorant, it not wanton, destruction of these animals by the rural population. The destruction of the Pinnated Grouse, which is total on Long Island, and all but total in New Jersey and the Pennsyl- vania oak-barrens, is ascribable to the brutal and wholly wanton havoc committed among them by the charcoal-burners, who fre- 1 ■,1 il t ; ! : !l 1 ^ j I i i 1 r ; ^ f i 1 I'm 'iJ '■ 1 !:: ' 1 M I'lll 18 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. quent those wooded districts ; and who, not content with destroy- ing the parent birds, at all seasons, even while hatching and ho- vering their broods, shooting the half-Hedged cheepers in whole hatchings at a shot, and trapping them in deep snows — with a degree of wantonness equally barbarous and unmeaning, steal or break all the eggs which they can find. To this add the spring burnings of the forest land, and you have cause enough to account for the extermination of the Pinnated Grouse, or Heath-Hen ; who is not now to be shot in such num- bers as to render it worth the while to hunt for him nearer than Michigan or Illinois. I should, perhaps, here state as a farther proof of the correct- ness of my assertion, that, on the little island of Martha's Vine- yard, off the coast of Massachusetts, where the Heath-Cock, once abundant, had nearly become extinct, the species was preserved from annihilation by the very praiseworthy means, e([ually de- termined and energetical, adopted by the citizens in general to prevent its extermination. This fine bird is again plentiful in that, its last locality, on the Atlantic coast ; and it is like to remain so, as the people take an honorable pride in preserving it, and neither kill it themselves, nor allow visitors to do so, except in the proper seasons, and under restrictions as to numbers. For a space, I believe, of five years the prohibition to kill was absolute ; and the fine so heavy, and so rigorously enforced — ^backed as it was by public opinion — that the desired end was gained. The period, if I am not mistaken, for which the Grouse bar- rens were closed hay expired, and, under some limitations, of the the nature of which I am not exactly aware, they may be visited by sportsmen henceforth. The destruction of the smaller and more abundant species is to be attributed to ditl'erent reasons — but the operation of these is more rapid and more fatal tlian those which have led to the ex- tinction of the races we have mentioned. The first of these causes is the very singular, if not incompre- hensible, characteristic of the people of the United States, to dia- I INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS 19 regard and violate all laws, even laws of their own makingr — the second, the apathy of the rural population with respect to game, and the error into which they have fallen of res^arding all game- laws as passed to their detriment, and for the pleasure of tlie dwel- lers in cities — the third is, the dishonest gluttony of all classes in the cities, with the exception of a few sportsmen — and the last, horresco rcferens^ the selfishness and want of union among themselves of genuine sportsmen. With regard to the first of the reasons laid down here, it may he taken as a matter of fact that no man, hoy or fool, in the coun- try, abstains from killing game, in or out of season, for fear of the law ; and that no farmer or landholder will ever give information against the violation of this law, though so far is he from heing 7jo/i-litigious, that one of the principal pleasures of his life is the sueing his neighhors for the smallest possible sums. The ex- ceeding fondness of the population in general for recourse to civil, and their equally evident disregard of criminal, law, is one of the phenomena of the country, and the age in which we live. Secondly ; the apathy of the farmer arises naturally enough from this, that all he has heard of game-laws in foreign lands is in connection wiih feudal rights, individual privileges, and nomi- nal distinctions, which are certainly everywhere more or less vexatious, and in some places really injurious to classes — al- though far less so than Americans are led to believe by the demagogue or.^'tors and editors from whom they obtain their in- formation on this topic, as on most others of the internal eco- nomy of foreign countries. It is needless to state that the game-laws of the United States have no such bearing whatsoever ; and are intended solely to pro- tect the animals in question, during the periods of nidification, incubation, and providing for the youthful broods. Remarkably enough, it has so happened in this country, ow- ing to the non-residence of wealthy and otiose men in the rural districts of the Northern States, that until very recently all ap- plication for and amendments of game-laws have emanated from the dwellers in cities ; and, for this obvious reason, that the coun it •■ 'H Iri I :t t I 'I' ' I ■■ I '. ' i ! i i ; ■ ■ ■ r 1 1 t ^ ' ji LjiiJ 20 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS w m try farmers, as a body, have neither tlie time, the inclination, noi the o])portunities for making themselves acquainted with the names, habits, or manners uf game-animals ; and consequently could not, if they would, have framed adequate laws for their protection. J believe that if they could now be brought as a body to understand that the provisions of these laws are not arbitrary and intended to suit the wishes of classes, they might be in duced to lend their hand to the good work of game-preservation A very few years since, the sportsmen proper — those 1 mean who shot for exercise, pleasure, and healthful excitement — and the poachers who shot for the markets, both coming from the cities, were the only enemies of the Quail and Woodcock. They were at that time entirely disregarded by the farmers, Avho had not the art to kill them on the wing, who did not care for them as delicacies, or articles of food, and who had no markets to supply with what they considered useless birds. 80 great was tlie extent of this disregard, that 1 have repeatedly", on firing a great number of shots in small pieces of woodland, been questioned by the owners what on earth I found to shoot at • and, on showing some twenty or thirty Woodcock, have been met by a remark that the speaker had lived on that farm all his life, and had not seen a dozen such birds in his life-time — and the name of the bird was unknow'n to them. At this j)eriod, which was the golden age for the sportsman, tra- velling was, comparatively speaking, expensive ; it was often necessary, in visiting out-of-the-way places, where the best sport was to be had, to hire private conveyances ; and the consecjuence was that the city poacher was in a great measure precludetl from following his barbarous and dishonest trade. Add to this, that the country people were averse to the market-shooter, wlien they discovered his object, and cast obstacles in his way. All this is now changed — the rail-roads bj w hich the country is everywhere intersected, onablo the city pot-hunter to move about with his dogs, and to transmit the subject of his butchery to the market easily, cheaply, speedily. iSor is this all — the country now bids fair to monopolize the trade of pot-hunting. !il INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATION'S, SI The young men and boys, now-a-days, all shoot on the wing ; many of these lines — February, 1848 — owing to the mildness of the winter, which has allured them earlier than usua'l from their hi/beniaciila in the swamps of the sunny South, the Woodcock are here among us, preparing their nests already ere the snow is off the ground. Each pair of these birds, if unmolested now, will raise eight young — perhaps twelve — dur- ing the season. The bird, moreover, is in no condition at this time of year — his plumage is full of a species of louse, his flesh is unsavory, he is thin and worthless — yet the ostentation, rather than the epicureanism of the rich New Yorker demands Wood- cock ; therefore, despite law, common sense, and common hu- manity, the bird is butchered at all times — evennow. Within tea years to come, if some means widely different from any now liH 1 1 hi k 1 :1 23 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ^Mil ■I , latlopted be not taken to save this bird, it will be extinct everv where within a hundred miles of the Atlantic seaboard — and in- land, everywhere within a hundred miles of any city large enough to alTbrd a market. Within fifty years from the day on which I now write, I am satisfied that the Woodcock will be as rare in the eastern and midland states, as the Wild Turkey and the Heath-Hen are at present. The Quail will endure a little longer, and the Rufled Grouse the longest of all — but the beginning of the twentieth century will see the wide woodlands, the dense swamps, and the moun- tain sides, depopulated and silent. I begin to despair — to feel that there is no hope for those who would avert the evil day, when game shall be extinct, and the last manly exercise out of date in the United States of North America. The foregoing remarks contain, in brief, the reasons which have induced me to prepare and offer to the public the present work, on " the Field Sports of the United Stales, and the British Provinces of North America" — a work, the intention and char- acter of which, I shall take this opportunity of stating, are en- tirely different from those of any book heretofore published in this country. " In all European countries," I remarked, in connexion with the observations quoted above, " writers on all branches of sport- ing have long abounded ; many of them of high birth, many of them distinguished in the world of science and of letters, and some even of the gentler sex. The greatest chemist of his day. Sir Humphry Davy, was not ashamed to record his piscatory expe- riences in ' Salmonia,' a work second only in freshness and at- traction to its prototype, by old Isaak Walton. That fair and gentle dame, Juliana Berners, deemed it not an unfeminine task to indite what, to the present day, is the text-book of falconry ; and hapless beautiful Jane Grey tliought she had given the ex- tremes! praise to Plato's eloquence, when she preferred it to the music of the hound and horn in the good greenwood. Till the last few years, however, America has found no son to record the feats of her bold and skilful hunters, to build theories on the results of I INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATrONS. 23 their experience, or to plead the cause of her persecuted and ahnost exterminated game. " Within the last few years, indeed, much has heen done. A whole host of sporting writers have sprung up in all (juarters of the land, having their rendezvous and rallying point in the columns of the New York Spirit of the Times. " Still, most of these writers have aspired rather to enter- tain than to instruct ; rather to depict scenes and incidents to the life, than to draw from those scenes a moral and a theory." Even the beautiful edition of that admirable English work, " Hawker on Siiooting" — prepared for the iVmerican reader by my excellent friend, William T. Porter, known throughout the length and breadth of the continent as a thoroujih and accom- plished sportsman — does not descend to those minute details of the zoological distinctions, nomenclature, and habits of our vari- ous spp'- -^A of game, which I propose to give to my readers ; nor — though abounding with graphic accounts and highly colored anecdotes relating to every species of shooting or hunting, does it present any views or suggest any means for the preservation of game, or for the acquisition of skill in woodcraft and gunnery in this country — both being very different on this from what they are on the other side of the Atlantic. This consideration — connected with another, namely, that for the last two years hardly a week has passed without my re- ceiving a letter from some person addicted to field sports, in all, even the remotest, parts of the country, requesting me to suggest some plan for the prevention of, what all see to be imminent, the total annihilation of game within our borders — has led me to believe that the time has ai rived, when a work of this character is called for by the country in general, and is likely to be as well received as the deficiencies of its author will permit. And now, after these brief introductory observations, I shall state what is my plan for the arrangement of this work, and thereafter plunge at once in Medias Res. In the first place, I propose briefly to ascertain what are the game of the United States and Provinces of America — a point i;; 11 u : I SI" I . i ! I I til 1 1 . ! i t 24 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. which is, by the way, of no small consequence ; as it is not by any means generally understood, at least by the rural portion of our eastern and midland sportsmen; and as, until it is understood and the understanding acted upon, sportsmanship never can be placed on a scientific footing. This done, I shall classify it under its three great distinct divi- sions, of U})land or Inland, Coast or Sea, and Western Shooting. Under each head, I shall give full descriptions, selected from the best authorities in natural history and ornithology, of the genera, the colors, habits, breeding seasons, and haunts of every species of game — thereafter, I shall treat of the proper scientific modes of killing and preserving them ; and, last not least, I tihalj insist on the proper nomenclature, urging its adoption with all my poor powers, and endeavoring to abolish the vulgar, ignorant slipshod habit, which prevails to such a terrible extent, of using absurd provincial misnomers for almost every animal of the chase Of the science of gunnery, the training and pathology of dogs, the acquisition of the art of shooting flying, and other kindred topics, so much has been stated at length by Hawker, Youatt, Blaine, and other great English authorities, that it is not neces- sary that I should be very diffuse in my observations. As, how- ever, no work on field sports can be perfect, or approach to perfection, unless it include these vital subjects, I shall of course not pass them over in silence, though I shall dilate only on such parts of them as appear to be most desirable, either for want of suiHcient present publicity, or from peculiar applicability to the circumstances of field sports in America. Hunting, or coursing, proper, does not exist on this continent ; the great topics, therefore, of condition, training, summering, and riding hunters to hounds, are, of course, out of the question j as well as the kindred subjects of the management of greyhounds, kennel-treatment and hunting of hounds, and lastly, all connected with the noble science of falconry, once termed " the Mystery of Rivers." I have, indeed, often wondered that both falconry and cours- ing have not been introduced on the boundless prairies of the cei it 1 tlu tic pei ir:/' INTRODUCTORY OliSEKVATIONS. 25 West, wliich, for the perfection of the fust named sport, are the grounds par exttJltnce of the whole world — the decline of fal- conry on the continent of Europe, and in Kn;j;land, heinj; caused by the multiplicity of enclosures, which renders it impossible to pursue a chase, blindfold as it were, the eyetJ being fixed constantly on the mana'uvres of the hawk t'o pounce, and of the ([uarry to evade his stoop, in the mid-air. A,ii;ain, Deer-coursinj^ mij^ht be practised with undoubted suc- cess on the prairies ; the best proof of which is in the fact, that it has been tried by one gentleman at least, who has miported the rough Scottisii deer greyhound for the pur])ose, in the ex- treme West ; and has been found by him to surpass all his ex- pectations, both for the excitement of the cliase and the great sport attained. Deer, of the largest size and finest head, were run into, after a pursuit of three miles or more, in view, and pulled down single-handed — nay, even the enormous Elk was brought to bay unerringly, by these staunch, lleet and noble hounds. With regard to these sports, however, I have said my say ; and only expressing my wonder that they should not be adopted, and my advice to all genuine Western sportsmen — I do not mean game-butchers — to adopt them with all due speed — I pass on to what more claims attention. Fishing is, perhaps, scarcely a fuUl sport ; it is nevertheless so decidedly a branch of sportsmanshij) — of course 1 mean fly- fishing, or trolling with the live or dead minnow ; any oilier mode I can regard only as I would knocking a hare on the head in her form, or shooting a bevy of (iuail running, or in a huddle — that I may not leave it unnoticed, lest I should be supposed to rob it and its votaries of the honor due to the gentle science. I know not, whether, before entering on my subject, I owe any apology to my readers for that I, not native or to the manor born, should aspire to treat of a subject so ])urely indigenous as the field sports of America. Should it be deemed presumj)tuous in me to attempt it, I must only point, as my excuse, to seven- teen years of apprenticeship honestly devoted to acquiring llie lit- ■ I II ■■ III 1 1 I , I! 1 1 \ ■ i '. ' i 26 FUANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. if' lift!' I Ij ill^. tie I do know of Ainerican field sports — and so infinitesimal is that little, that I am almost compelled to own, with the sage of old, " all that I do know is, that I know nothing" — and to a constant and long-maintained habit of intercourse and familiar correspondence with better, though not more thoroughgoing, sportsmen than myself, in every part of the United States, and of the Provinces. Upon any ycncral defence of field sports I do not here think it worth the while to enter. All men whose opinions are worth one moment of attention, have long ago decided that they are the best, the manliest, and the most desirable, in every respect, of national anmsements, tending to prevent the demoralization of luxury, and over civilization, the growth of effeminacy and sloth, and to the maintenance of a little manhood in an age, the leading characteristics of which are fanaticism, cant, and hypo- crisy, added to a total and general decay of all that is manly or independent either in the physical or moral characters, alike of individuals or nations. To those who think field sports cruel, immoral, wicked, and brutalizing, I have only to make my lowest bow ; and to en- treat that they will give me and my book, as I shall assuredly give them and their opinions, the widest possible berth ; assuring them that, without the slightest respect for their opinions, I have no idea of intruding upon their premises, nor any desire to convert them from their comfortable and self-hugging creed. In all ages and in all countries, genuine field sports — from which I, of course, exclude the really cruel and brutalizing amusements of bear-baitino;, dog-fishtin";, cock-fishtino-, and other similar pursuits, which are for the most part followed only by the vicious and worthless population of large cities — have been approved of and encouraged by the wisest men, by statesmen and philosophers and philanthropists, not merely as legitimate pursuits whereon to expend and exercise the buoyant animal spirits, and ardent animal propensities of youth -—which must have an outlet one way or another — but as the best mode of preserving the combined advantages of the mens I 'i INTROnUCTORY ni!-i;r,VATI0N9. 37 $ana in corpnre sano — of kooping up manhood, ami of maintain- ing the physical energies and capacities of the human race at their highest standard. It is an authentic and undeniable fact that the aristocracy and gentry of the British Islands are superior, in physical beauty and power, in robustness, agility, and the capacity of enduring fatigue, to any other class of nobility in the world. Tbcy are, in fact, the only nohility in existence, which have been enabled to resist the deteriorating influences of wealth, luxury, and breeding-in-and-in, which have corrupted and etleniinated the nobility of all other lands ; they are the only uohillfi/^ in exist- ence, which not only ecjuals, but exceeds, in physical stature and strength the peasantry and laborious classes of their own country. And to nothing is this, or can it be, ascribed, but to their habit of residence on their rural estates, and their addiction to manly and laborious fiekl sj)orts. I'o the like cause, may be, in its degree, attril)uted the superiority, in vigor and robust- ness, despite of ill fare and hardship, of the British peasant and artisan to his equal in society, in France, Spain, Italy, and on the European continent in general. This being, as it must be admitted, true of Great Britain, there are two reasons, worth the consideration of the statesnian and the philanthropist, why the encouragement of a love for field sports is even more desirable and necessary in the United States than in that country. The first is this — that the wealthy classes of the northern states entirely^ and of all the states, in a great degree, dwelling exclusively in large cities, and not residing at all on rural es- tates, or acquiring rural tastes and habits, are infuiitcly more liable to become efl'eminated and i-ffite than the gentry, not of Britain only, but of France and Germany. And, in fact, the sol disanle aristocracy, the dandies of our cities, are now softer and more cocknified, as a rule, than the gentry of the European monarchies. The second consideration is this — that, standinp; armies being out of the question in this republic, the defence of the bind and f ! i li li I I f if \ ' 2S FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. its institutions must ever be intrusted to the people at large j and the adaptibility of the people to that defence will ever de- pend on their aptitude to become soldiers at a short notice, and especially on their readiness with the gun. So far as they have been tried hitherto, nothing can be more satisfactory than the results. But, I think, it will appear, on a little consideration, that the probability of those results continu- ing the same for a large term of years, as far as regards the u-se of the gun, is small indeed and hourly decreasing. During the war of the Revolution, every countryman was a rifleman. Burgoyne surrendered as much to the unerring aim of the undisciplined American militia, as to the skill or courage of the regulars. Even in the last war, the northern and mid- land states could produce their hundreds and thousands of rille shots ; and on the Canada frontier they did good service. Along the Atlantic sea-board the rifle is now, already, an unknown arm ; and I doubt extremely whether, between the Kennebec, the Delaware, the great lakes, and the ocean, one regiment could be raised of men practically familiar with the use of this deadly national weapon. According to this rate, the use of the weapon, of course, passing away so soon as its utility passes, the rifle will ere long be as rare in the western, as it now is in the eastern states. The Bison, the Elk, are already rare on this side the Mississippi, if not extinct. The Deer are, in the same ratio, declining, and the Turkey. These gone, the utility and honor of the rifle are extinct also. So long as smaller game exist, the shot-gun will still continue, replacing the rifle as it has done to the eastward, to be in use ; and the practice of fire-arms \v\\\ not be wholly lost. Destroy the small game, too, and the fowling-piece falls into disuse also. I do not myself believe that one century will pass over the United States, before its population, now the readiest on earth with the gun, will have cast it aside altogether ; and before a firelock will be as rare, Unless in the hands of trained regulars, as the rifle is now on the sea-board. tho to ere ho\ con ipr.iMV' INTRODUCTORT OBSERVATIONS. 29 This certainly is a point worthy of consideration, even by those -who think themselves far too great and philanthropical to trouble themselves about such trilles as the increase or de- crease of little birds, and the field sports of little men. It is, however, sound philosophy which teaches us that " great ends come from small beginninas." '! i ! , t 1"P^ H I ! ! ! I i t 11 "A [^^ 80 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS THE GAME OF THE UNITED STATES AND BRITISH PROVINCES Atl no ani and tl Ag shoulJ ifM 1 ililll^ k 1 <;'i lu: ; ^' \ hi 1 Hi AME is not every thing which ex- ists in the shape of birds or beasts in a state of nature, /('/•« naturd, in the woods, the wastes, or the wa- ters. This, to sportsmen, self-evident proposition is by no means gen- erally admitted or applied by the gunners of the United States, or the recorders of their feats ; as will be readily seen by those who peruse the registers of game killed, in the great hunting parties which are constantly occurring in the more remote districts of the Eastern and Midland State* ~ registers in which we shall find Owls, Hawks, Bluejays, Robins, Pigeons, Squirrels ; nay, even Skunks, Ground-hogs, and Opos- sums enumerated as game. Game is an arbitrary term, implying, in its first and most correct sense those animals, whether of fur or feather, which are the natural j)ursuit of certain high breeds of dogs, and which such dogs, whether they have ever met with the animal before or not, will instinctively follow and take. Thereafter, it comes to signify all animals which are so pursued by dogs for the purpose of sport, not of obtaining food, or of destroying a noxious animal merely, and to which certain cour- tesies, if I may so express myself, are shewn, and certain semi- chivalrous usages extended. One P'-KV; GAME OF A?iIKUICA. 31 At the same time, with but tMo exooj tit)ns that occur to me, no aiiisnal can properly be game whirli is not tilted for the table, anil the flesh of which is not delicate, and esteemed a rarity. Again, although it be an essential qualification to game that it should be such as a well-bred dog will notice, and ])ursue natu- rall}-, it is not necessary that the dog should be invariably used in its pursuit — as in the case of the Water-Rail, and the Upland or Bartram's Plover ; on both of which tliorough-bred dogs will stand steadily, although, for reasons of which I shall treat under their appropriate heads, it is not usual or desirable to take out jjointers or setters in j)ursuit of them. Once more, to conclude, there are animals which may be re- garded as game, under certain contingencies and in certain countries, which I should not call game under dillerent circum- stances. Where falconry is in vogue, for example, which is purelif a sport, and a most scientific sport, too, the Heron, the Skylark, nay, even the Magpie is pursued as, and may be considered, game. In like manner, where packs of Fox and Otter hounds are re- gularly kept for the purpose of hunting those animals, legiti- mately and scientifically, and where to kill those animals other- wise than legitimately and scientifically, is contrary to sports- manship and custom, the Fox and the Otter may be properly termed game. In England I should certainly term the Fox an animal of game ; in those counties of England, wherein Otter hounds are kept up, the Otter likewise. Here, like the other noxious animals, or those wbich are killed for their peltry only, by the trap or the gun, they are vermin ; as are the Racoon, the Opossum, and the like, although these may be casually pursued, unscientifically, and without fair play, or regular rules of sportsmanship, for their flesh, or even for sport. Game, therefore, in its proper sense — and in no other do I treat of it — consists but of a few families, and even genera, VOL. I. 5 1 / \ ' I I 1 '/^ I ■ i i \ < I' 1 fft 1, ■ ■I'l II 1 . iiil' ,. h ■i: i 1 ': I'll if I M W ' ■ 'isiiiin!!''' 32 FRANK FOnr.STF.R S FIELD SPORTS. thougli of many species ; and in the United States and British Provinces of North America, these families may he limited to six famihes of quadrupeds only, containing twelve sub-genera and species ; and this at the very largest and most liberal com- putation. These families are tlie Ox, Bos; the Goat, Capra ; the Antelope, yln/<7o/)e ; Deer, Ccrmis ; liare^ Lepus ; and the Bear, Ursus Of the first, second and third of these genera, there are but three species found on this continent, one of each. The Bison, Bos Americanus, peculiar to South America. The Rocky Mountain Goat, Copra Montana. The Rocky Mountain Sheep, Ovis Moiitana ; and The American Antelope, or Pronghokn. Of tlie Deer there are five varieties found in the territories of the United States and the Provinces, namely — The jNIoose, Cervus Alces ; The Elk, Cervus Canadensis ; Tjie Cariboo, American Reindeer, Cervus Tarandus ; The Common Deer, Cervus Virginianus ; and The Black-tailed Deer, Cervus Macrotis. Of the Hare there are two varieties known on this continent : The Common Hare — vulg. Rabbit — Lc pus Americanus ; and The Northern Hare, Lepus Virgininnus. Of the Bear also there are two varieties : The Common Brown Bear, Ursus Americanus ; and The Grisly Bear, Ursus Ilorrihilis. This is the utmost limit that I can assign to the quadruped game of this country ; as I cannot lend my humble sanction to the shooting squirrels, racoons, or opossums out of trees, and calling that sportsmanship ; anymore than I can assent to shoot- ing thrushes, crow-blackbirds, pigeons, meadow-larks, and reed- birds, and calling them game. In fact, for my own part, I can scarcely bring myself to re- gard the Bison or the Bear as game, in consequence of the whole- S fl ■;i< i 'm aw ^p liW. ■4: i I ^ \\\ I' f • . ) i ' i ! ; t 'I ! I !i ( I i '■■ , ■ I I ' i * I r 1' If 1 ■ ! , i. .. 1 ace sale and alonsi bro.i to thj N( sport-j an i mil and with ] theret" chase Tlie Sheep, and tn can — f game, except you cai which ( where ford it, men, b class ci ishing i The distinct such w precise when c and to The and it i species to do. GAME OF AMERICA. 33 sale and butcher-like fiishion in whicli the former are slaughtered, and the total absence of what I should deem sport in gallopping alongside of a great unwieldly terrified mountain of llesh, pouring broadsides into him, until he falls for loss of blood ; and looking to the ferocious and noxious character of the latter. Nevertheless, in the West, i?//^rt/o-hunting is regarded as sport — therefore the Bison — for, be it observed, there is no such animal known to this continent as tha Buffalo — must take its place among the game of North America ; and, in the south and south-west, the bear is hunted sportsmanly and scientifically with packs of highly-trained and highly-bred hounds. I cannot therefore, deny him a place in the list of animals of game or chase. The Antelope again, and, yet more, the Rocky Mountain Sheep, are so rare, and so little pursued, except by the travellers and trappers of those barren wilds, who kill them — when they can — for their llesh, that they barely come within the sphere of game. There is no mode of hunting or pursuing them practised, except to crawl as near to them as you can, and shoot them if you can ; still they are of species recognised as game elsewhere, which doubtless would afford rare sport, if they were in situations where they could be legitimately hunted ; and perhaps will yet af- ford it, if they be not destroyed by the trappers and backwoods- men, before increasing civilization and refinement brings up a class capable of indulging in the expensive pursuit, and of cher- ishing a fondness for sport, purely for sport's sake. The Moose, the Elk, the Cariboo, and the Common Deer, are distinctly game in every sense of the word ; and are pursued as such whenever they can be found. The black-tailed Deer is of precisely the same order, and will doubtless afford as good sport, when civilization shall have reached his haunts, which are on, and to the westward of, the Rocky Mountains. The two varieties of Hare are likewise emphatically game ; and it is with these two families only, and but with two or three species of these, that nine-tenths of my readers will ever have to do. \ }'. ' '1l ! j: ! r •!^ i: i ii 34 FRANK FORESTERS FIKI.IJ iSI'.itlTS. < '!} i 1 ■ ; •>' i% liPif!:| The Moj/se and Cariboo may be hunted with more or less success in Maine and Canada, as well as in the Eastern provin- ces of Nova Scotia and New Brunswick. A few linger yet in the north-eastern angle of New York, and on the northern frontiers of Vermont and New Hampshire. There is, liowever, little prospect of sport in their pursuit, west of the St. .Johns, or south of the Canada lines. A few Elk are said to exist still in the western districts of Pennsylvania, and also in Kentucky, but to find them in herds, and in fact to have a chance of killing them, the hunter must go westward of the Missis.sij)pi. Even the larger species of hare, which becomes white in win- ter, is becoming rare in New York south of the region of Lake Champlain ; and, except among the craggy hills where he can laugh at pursuit, he will soon cease to exist as an animal of chase. So that in fact for the great majority of sportsmen, the number of varieties of four-footed game is reduced to two species — the common Deer, and the common Hare — the small grayish brown fellow, I mean, who is erroneously called Rahb'U — for be it ob- served no Rabbit exists on the continent of North America, and no Buffalo ; though I suppose to all eternity, men will persist — even men of education, who ought to know, and do know, better — in calling them by the names applied to them by the illiterate and vulgar. I hfive no patience with the dependent provincial vulgarism of calling all birds, beasts, plants and fishes, by the name of Euro- pean animals or vegetables, to which they bear some fancied resemblance, when no such things exist on the continent. There is scarcely a wild bird or a wild plant in this country that does not go by some ludicrous misnomer. Thus a Thrush is termed a Robin, a Vulture a Crow, a Grouse a Pheasant or a Par- tridge, a Quail a Partridcje — a Rhododrendon, an Azalia, and a Calmia — all three as wide apart from each other, and from the thing they are called, as an ivy bush from an oak tree — laurel , and so on, of almost everything that runs, (lies or grows in the woods or wilds of the United States. GAME OF AMERICA. 35 It is to those stupid misnomers, as I shall show hereafter, that one-half the confusion and dilficulty arises among sp'.^rtsmen with regard to the ohjects of their pursuit. We now come to the winged game ; and here we shi\ll find less dilliculty in deciding what species are properly game; though, with regard to one or two families, much more in ascer- taining the correct denominations of the hirds themselves, it heing no easy task to assign the individuals known by some bar- barous nickname to any real tribe or order. All the game birds, proper, of this continent, then, belong to three orders ; one of land, and two of — as they are called — wa- ter birds ; although several species of the latter are found inland and on uplands. All our game, coming under the head of land-birds, proper, are of the order termed by ornithologists Rasorcs ; and belong to two families, 2'arortuir a connecting link be- tween the Snipes, proper, and the Godwits and Tatlers, than hitn- Belf a pure Snipe. i rlfiffll GAME OF AMERICA. 41 We now arrive at the last order, Natatores, swimmers, of which, to take cognisance, under tlie head of its second family, uinatidce. The second genus of this family, Anscr, Goose, gives us four species, though two, the third and fourth, are far from common. The first and third are decidedly the best of our sea fowl. 1. The Canada Goose — Wild Goose — Anser Canadensis ; 2. The Barxacle Goose,* Anser Leiicopsis ; 3. The Braxt Goose — Brant — Anser Bernicla ; 4. The White-fronted Goose, Anser AlbiJ) ons ; and 5. The Snow Goose, Anser ILjperboreus. The third genus. Swan, affords two species to North America, but the second only belongs to the Eastfrn States ; the Trump- eter ranging only through Northern California to the fur coun- tries, from westward of the Ohio. 1. The Trumpeter Swan, Cycnus Buccinator ; and 2. The American Sw.^N, Cycnus Americanus. The fourth genus, Anas, Duck, contains ten species, every one of which, witii the exception of the fourth, is well known to all sportsmen ; they are of the fuiest quality for the table, and pre- ferable to all others, with the exception of the Canvass Back, and perhaps the Red Head. They are as follows : 1. The Mallard — vulg. Green TIcad — Anas Boschas : 2. The Dusky Duck — vulg. Black Duck — Anas Obscura ; 3. The Gadwall, Anas Strepera ; 4. Brewer's Duck, vlnvs iVcicf'/'// ; 5. The American Widgeon, Anas Americana ; 6. The Pintail Duck, Anas Acuta; 7. The Wood Duck, Sumiuer Duck, Anas Sponsa ; 8. American Green-winged Teal, Anas CaroUncnsis. » I have my doubts whether tlie Barnacle and Brant are not one and the ■ame bird, tliou^h at different ages, and in difl<.f.r, Bartrani's Tatler, Tringa Bartra- mia, siiie, Totanus BartraDiius^ commonly known as the Upland Plover, Grass Plover., or Frost Bird The Ducks, which may be classed as Uplan-I ^''1^le, are The Dusky Duck, Anas Obscura, commonly known as the Black Duck. The Mallard, Anas Boschas, vulo;. Green Head. The Green-winged Teal, Anas Carolinensis. UPLAND SHOOTING. 49 The Blue-winged Teal, Anas Discors. The Wood Duck, or Summer Duck, Anas Sponsa. The Pintail Duck, Anas Acuta, vulg. Sprig Tail, Pigeon Tail. One or two other varieties of this family are common either to hoth salt and fresh waters, or of so rare occurrence as to re- quire no notice ; of the former I will merely name The Shovel- ler, Anas Clypeata, and The Golden Eye, Anas Clangula : of the latter, The Gadwall, Anas Slrcpera. The Hares are, The Common Amkrican Hare, Lepus Ameri- canus, commonly and improperly, Rabbit. The Northeun Hare, Lepus Virginianus, vulgarly and im- properly, White Rabbit. The Common Sora Rail, Rallns Carolinus, must be classed under a sporting head, peculiar to itself — .. . it is shot from boats, apart from any other species of game, and in dillerent localities, though in the same manner, with some exceptions, as wild fowl on the coast. With the exception of the Wild Turkey, which is unquestiona- bly the noblest bird of the order, RasoreSj and as such the king of American game, the three Grouse which we possess must take the lead ; and first in place, as in size and honor, I assign the palm to THE PINNATED GROUSE. 1 I Tetrao Cup/do — it'ym, Wilson, Audubon. La Gelinotte Ilwppek d''Ameiique — Brissot. The Prairie -Hen, Grouse, or Heath' Hen. " Male, 18.2?;,. " Abundant from Texas, throughout all the Western prairies, to very high up the Missouri, Kentucky, Illinois and Ohio ; al- most extirpated in the Middle and Eastern Districts. Resident " Adult Male. ** Bill short, robust j upper mandible with the dorsal outline \ I I ! ^ 1.0 I.I UilM |2.5 |5o "^^ H^S 1^ 12.2 IL25 i 1.4 Hiotographic Sciences Corporation m 1.6 i\ % 4^ \ \ 23 WIST MAIN STRUT WCBSTER.N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4S03 ^ 6^ ft3 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. 1 , m Ifl "'New York, Sept. 19, 1810. "'Dear Sir, — It gives me much pleasure to reply tt> your letter of the 12th inst., asking of me information concerning the Grouse of Long Island. " ' The birds, which are known there emphatically by the name of Grouse, inhabit chielly the forest range. This disUict of the island may be estimated as being between forty and fifty miles in length, extending from Bethphage, in Queen's County, to the neighborhood of the Court-house, in Sutlblk. Its breadth is not more than six or seven. For though the island is bounded by the Sound, separating it from Connecticut on the north and the Atlantic Ocean on the south, there is a margin of several miles on each side in tlie actual possession of human beings. " ' The regions in which these birds reside lie mostly witliin the towns of (Jysterbay, Huntington, Islip,Smithstown and Brooklyn; though it would be incorrect to say tliat tiiey were not to be met with sometimes in River Head and Southampton. This territory has boon defined l)y some sportsmen as situated between Hemp- stead Plain on the west and Shinnecock Plain on the east. " ' The more popular name for them is Heath-IIens. By this they are designated in the act of our Legislature for the preser- vation of them and of other game. I well remember the passing of this law. The bill was introduced by Cornelius J. Bogart, Esq., a Member of Assembly from the city of New York. It was in the month of February, 1791, the year when, as a repre- sentative from my native county of Queen's, I sat for the first time in Legislature. " ' The statute declares among other things, that " the person who shall kill any Heath-Hen within the counties of Suffolk or Queen's, between the 1st day of April and the 5th day of Octo- ber, shall for any such offence forfeit and pay the sum of two dollars and a half, to be recovered with costs of suit by any per- son who shall prosecute for the same before any Justice of the Peace in either of said counties, the one half to be paid to plain- tiff and the other half to the overseers of the poor ; and if anj Ileath-Hen so killed shall be found in the possession of any per UPLAND SHOOTING. 53 son, he shall be deemed guilty of the olFence and suiFer the penalty. But it is provided that no defendant shall be convicted unle-ss the action shall be brought vithin three months after the violation of the law." " ' The country selected by these exquisite birds requires a more particular description. You already understand it to be the midland and interior district of the island. The soil of this island is, generally speaking, a sandy or gravelly loam. In the parts less adapted to tillage, it is more of an unmixed sand. This is so much the case, that the shore of the beaches beaten by the ocean affords a material from which glass has been pre- pared. Silicious grains and particles predominate in the region chosen by the Heath-llens or Grouse ; and here there are no rocks, and very few stones of any kind. This sandy tract ap- pears to be a dereliction of the ocean, but is nevertheless not doomed to total sterility. Many thousand acres have been re- claimed from the wild state and rendered very products e to man ; and within the towns frequented by these birds, there are numerous inhabitants, and among them some of our most wealthy farmers. But within the same limits there are also tracts of great extent, where men have no settlements, and others where the population is spare and scanty. These are, however, by no means naked deserts ; they are, on the contrary, covered with trees, shrubs and smaller plants. The trees are mostly pitch-pine, of inferior size, and white-oaks of a small growth. They are of a quality very fit for burning. Thousands of cords of both sorts of fire-wood are annually ex})orted from these barrens. Vast quantities are occasionally destroyed by the fires which, through carelessness or accident, spread far and wide through the woods. The city of New York will probably for ages derive fuel from these grounds. The land, after being well cleared, yields to the cultivator poor crops. Unless, therefore, lie can help it by manure, the best disposition is to let it grow up to forest again. " ' Experience has proved that in a term of forty or fifty years, the new growth of timber will be fit for the axe. Hence it may i I P\ m l-f !■ ¥ ! '),'. '^- i!!; I M.: 54 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. be perceived that tlie reproduction of trees, and the protection they afford to Heath-Hens, -would be perpetual, or in other words, not circumscribed by any calculable time, provided the j)ersecutors of the latter would be quiet. Beneath these trees grow more dwarfish oaks, overspreading the surface, sometimes with here and there a shrub, and sometimes a thicket. These hitler are from about two to ten feet in heiirht. When thev are the priiici[)al product, they are called, in common conversation, brush, as the flats on which they grow are termed hrusluj plains. AniouL!; this hardy shrubbery may fre([uently be seen the creep- in<^ ve^;otable, named partridge-berry, covering the sand with its lasting verdure. " ' In many spots the plant which produces hurtleberries sprouts up among the other natives of the soil. These are the more important ; though I ought to inform you, that the hills reach- ing from east to west and forming the s{)ine of the island, sup- port kalmias, hickories, and many other species ; that I have seen azalias and andromedas, as I passed through the wilder- ness, and that where there is wate'*, cranberries, alders, beeches, maples, and other lovers of moisture, take their stations. This region, situated thus between the more thickly inhabited strips or belts on the north and south sides of the island, is nmch tra- velled by waggons, and intersected accordingly by a great num- ber of paths. " ' As to the birds themselves, the information I possess scarcely amounts to an entire history. You who know the dif- ficulty of collecting focts, will be most ready to excuse my deficiencies. The information I give you is such as I rely on. For the purpose of gathering the materials, I have repeatedly visited their haunts. I have likewise conversed with several men who were brought up at the precincts of the Grouse ground, who had been witnesses of their habits and manners, who were accustomed to shoot them for the market, and who have acted as guides foi gentlemen who go the e for sport. " ' Balk. — An adult Grouse, when fat, weighs as much as a barn-door fowl of moderate size, or about three pounds avoirdu- UPLAND SHOOTING. 55 poise. But the eagerness of the sportsmen is so great, that a large proportion of tliose they kill are but a few months old, aid have not attaine I tlieir complete growth. Notwithstanding the protection of the law, it is very connnon to disregard it. The retired nature of the situation favors this. It is well under- stood ihat an arrangement can be made which will blind and silence informers, and the gun is fired with im])unity for weeks before the time prescribed in the act. To prevent this unfair and uidawful practice, an association was formed a few years ago, under the title of the ' Brush Club,'' with the express and avowed intention of enforcinii the iraine law. Little benefit, however, has resulted from its laudable exertions ; and, under a conviction that it was impossible to keep poachers away, the so- ciety declined. " ' At present the statute nuiy be considered as operating very little towards their preservation. Grouse, especially full-grown ones, are becoming less frequent. Their numbers are gradually diminishing ; and, assailed as they are on all sides, almost with- out cessation, their scarcity may be viewed as foreboding their eventual extermination. " ' Price. — Twenty years ago, a brace of Grouse could be bought for a dollar. They cost now from three to five dollars. A handsome pair seldom sells in the New York market now-a-days for less than thirty shilling.s — three dollars and seventy-five cents — nor for more than forty, five dollars. " ' These prices indicate, indeed, the depreciation of money and the luxury of eating. They prove at the same time that Grouse are become rare ; and this fact is admitted by every man who seeks thein, whether for pleasure or profit. " ' Amours. — The season for pairing is in March, and the breed- ing time is continued through April and May. Then the male Grouse distinguishes himself by a peculiar sound. When he utters it, the parts about the throat are sensibly infiated and swelled. It may be heard on a still morning for three or more miles ; some say they have perceived it as far as five or six. This noise is a sort of ventriloquism. It does not strike the ear rfi ' 1 \'A]\ 1 1. 1 .1 , h i 66 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. '■''].l'^'i :.(i,::J. ^t ^ 13*';' {'V il of the bystander with much force, but impresses him with the idea, though produced within a few rods of him, of a voice a mile or two distant. This note is highly characteristic. Though very peculiar, it is termed tooting^ from its resemblance to the blowing of a conch as heard from a remote quarter, " ' The female makes her nest on tlie ground, in recesses very rarely discovered by man. She usually lays from ten to twelve eggs. Their color is of a brownish yellow, much resembling those of a Guinea-Hen. When hatched, the brood is protected by her alone. Surrounded by her young, the mother bird much resem- bles a domestic Hen and Chickens. She frequently leads them to feed in the roads crossing the woods, on the remains of maize and oats contained in the dung dropped by the travelling horses. In that enn)!oyment they are often surprised by the passengers. On that occasion the dam utters a cry of alarm. The little ones immediately scamper to the brush, and while they are skulking into places of safety, their anxious parent beguiles the spectator by drooping and fluttering her wings, limping along the path, rolling over in the dirt, and other pretences of inability to walk or fly. " ' Food. — A favorite article of their diet is the IlecUh-IIen plum or partridge-berry, before mentioned ; they also use hurtleberries or cranberries. Worms and insects of several kinds are occasion- ally found in their crops. But in the winter they subsist chiefly on acorns and the buds of trees which have shed their leaves. In tbeii' stomachs have been sometimes observed the leaves of a plant supposed to be a winter-green ; and it is said when they are much pinched, tliey betake themselves to the buds of the pine. In convenient places they have been known to enter cleared fields and reiiale themselves on the leaves of clover, and old gunners h..\e reported that they have been known to tres- pass upon patches of buckwheat and peck up the grains. " ' RTtf/ration. — They are stationary, and are never known to quit their abode. There are no facts showing in them any disposi- tion to migration. On frosty mornings, and during snow, they perch on the upper brandies of pine trees. They avoid wet UPLAND SHOOTING. 67 end swampy places, and are remarkably attached to dry ground. The low and open brush is preferred to high and shrubby thick- ets. Into these latter places they fly for refuge, when closely pressed by the hunters ; and here, under a stiff aiul impenetrable cover, they escape the pursuit of dogs and men. Water is so seldom met with on the true GRousE-ground, that it is necessary to carry it along Tor the pointers to drink. The flights of Grouse are short, but sudden, rapid and whirring. 1 have not heard of any success in taming them. They seem to resist all attempts at domestication In this, as well as in many other respects, they resemble the Quail of ^e\v York, or the Partridge of Penn- sylvania '* ' Manners, — During the period of mating, and while the fe- males are occupied in incubation, the males have a practice of assembling principally by themselves. To some select and cen- tral spot, where there is very little underwood, they repair from the adjoining district. From the exercises performed there, this is called a scratching-phice. The time of meeting is the break of day. As soon as the light appears, the company as- sembles from every side, sometimes to the number of forty or fifty. When the dawn is passed, the ceremony begins by a low tooting from one of the cocks. This is answered by another. They then come forth, one by one, from the bushes, and strut about with all the pride and ostentation they can display. Their necks are incurvated, the feathers on them are erected into a sort of rulF; the plumes of the tails are expanded like fans ; they strut about in a style resembling, as nearly as small may be il- lustrated by gieat, the pomp of the Turkey-Cock. They seem to vie with each other in stateliness, and, as they pass each other, frequently cast looks of insult and utter notes of defiance. These are the signals for battles. They engage with wonderful spirit and fierceness. During these contests, they leap a foot or two from the ground, and utter a cackling, screaming and discordant cry. They have been found in these places of resort even earlier than the a[)pearance of light in the east. This fact leads io llie belief, that a part of them assemble over night. The rest join them K J !! Y ' I I. ,. ,■ 51.- t I » ■ :\]\ 58 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ' i i Vl'i in the mornint;. This leads to the farther belief that they roost on the ground ; and the opinion is confirmed by the discovery of little rings of dung, apparently deposited by a flock which had j)assed the night together. After the appearance of the sun, they disperse. These places of exhibition have been often dis- covered by the hunters, and a fatal discovery it has been for poor Gkouse. " 'The destroyers construct for themselves lurking-holes made of pine branches, called bough-houses, within a few yards of the parade, and hither they repair with their fowling-pieces, in the latter part of the night, and wait the appearance of the birds. Wailing the moment when two are proudly eyeing each other, or engaged in battle, or when a greater number can be seen in a range, they pour on them a destructive charge of shot. This annoyance has been given in so many places, and to such an ex- tent, that the Grouse, after having been repeatedly di'sturbed, are afraid to asseud)le. On approaching the spot to which their instinct prompts them, they perch on the neighboring trees, in stead of alighting at the scratching-place ; and it remains to be okierved how far the restless and tormenting spirit of the marks- man may alter the nature and habits of the Grouse, and oblige them to new ways of life. They commonly kee]) together, in coveys or packs, as the phrase is, until the pairing season. A full pack consists, of course, of ten or a dozen. Two packs have been known to associate. I lately heard of one w hose number amounted to twenty-two. They are so unapt to be startled, that a hunter, assisted by a dog, has been able to shoot almost a whole pack, without making any of them take wing. In like manner, the men lying in concealment near the scratch- ing-places, have been known to discharge several guns before either the report of the explosion or the sight of their wounded or dead fellows would rouse them to flight. It has been farther remarked that when a company of sportsmen have surrounded a pack of Grouse, the birds seldom or never rise upon their pin- ions while they are encircled ; but each runs along until it passes the person that is nearest, and then flutters off with the UPLAND SHOOTING. A9 utmost expedition. As you have made no enquiry of me con- cerning the ornithological character of these birds, I have not mentioned it, premising that you are ah'eady perfectly ac([uaint- ed with their classification and description, in a short memoir, written in 1803, and printed in the eighth volume of the Mcilica licpositori/, 1 ventured an opinion as to the gonus and si)ecies. Whether 1 was correct is a technical matter, which I leave you to adjust. 1 am well aware that European accounts of our i)ro- ductions are often erroneous, and require revision and amend- ment. This you must perform. Fur me it remains to repeat my joy at the opportunity your invitation has allbrded me to contribute somewhat to your elegant work, and at the same time to assure you of my earnest hope tlml you may be favored with ample means to complete it. "'Samuel L. Mitciiill.'" " Duly sensible of the honor of the foregoing communication, and grateful for the good wishes with which it is concluded, I shall now, in further elucidation of the subject, subjoin a few particulars, properly belonging to my own department. " It is somewhat extraordinary that the European naturalists, in their various accounts of our ditl'erent species of Grouse, should have said little or nothing of the one now before us, v 'u-h in its voice, manners, and peculiarity of plumage, is the most ; ingular, and in its flesh the most excellent of all those of its tribe, that inhabit the territory of the United States. It seems to have es- caped Catesby, during his residence and different tours through this country, and it was not till more than twenty years after his return to England, viz., 17 13, that he first saw some of these birds, as he informs us, at Cheswick, the seat of the Earl of Wilmington. His lordship said they came from America ; hut from what particular part could not tell. Butlbn has confounded it with the Ruffed Grouse, the Common Parthidoe of New England, or Pheasant of Pennsylvania, ( 7t7r«o Umhelhts.) Edwards and Pennant have, however, discovered that it is a diderent species, but have said little of its note, of its flesh or I ii i M '■C ,l|(i ;1 i: i' I m- 60 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. peculiarities ; for alas, there was neither voice or action, nor de- licacy of ilavor in the shrunk and decayed skin from which the former took his figure and the latter his description ; and to this circumstance must be attributed the barrenness and defe<-ts of both. This rare bird, though an inhabitant of dilierent and very distant districts of North America, is extremely particular in selecting his place of residence, pitching only upon those tracts whose features and productions correspond with his mode of life, and avoiding innnense intermediate regions that he never visits. Open, dry places, thinly interspersed with trees, or paitially overgrown with shrub-oak, are his favorite haunts. Accordingly, we find these birds on the GRousF.-plains of JS'ew .Jersey, in Burlington County, as well as on the brushy plains of Long Island ; among the trees and shrub-oaks of Pocano, in Northampton County, in Pennsylvania ; over the whole extent of the barrens of Kentucky, on the luxuriant plains and prairies of the Indiana and Upper Louisiana, and arccording to the informsi- tion of the late Governor Lewis, on the vast remote plains of the Columbia River, in all these places preserving the same singular habits. Their predilection for such situjitions will he best accounted for by considering the following facts and circum- stances : — First, their mode of llight is generally direct and labo- rious — ill calculated for the labyrinth of a high and thick forest, crowded and intersected with trunks and arms of trees that require continual angular evolution of wing or sudden turnings, to which they are by no means accustomed. I have always observed them to avoid the high-timbered groves that occur here and there in the Barrens. Connected with this fact is a circumstance related to me by a very respectable inhabitant of that county — viz., that one forenoon a Cock-GuousE struck the stone chinmey of his house with such force, as instantly to fall dead to the ground. Secondly, their known dislike of ponds, marshes, or watery places, which they avoid, drinking but seldom, and it is believed never from such places. Even in confinement this peculiarity has been taken notice of. While I was in the State of Tennessee, a person, living within a few miles of Nashville, UPLAND SHOOTING. 61 had cauj^ht an old Hen-Grouse in a trap, and being obliged to keep her in a large cage, she struck and abused the rest of the poul- try, he remarked tliat she never drank, and that she even avoided that quarter of the cage where the cup containing the water was placed. Happening one day to let some water fall on the cage, it trickle. 1 down in drops along the bars, which the bird no st)oner observed than she eagerly picked them off, drop by drop, with a dexterity that showed she had been habituated to thi> mode of (luenching lier thirst, and probably to this mode only, in those dry and barren tracts, where, except the drops of dew and drops of rain, water is very rarely to be met with. For the space of a week he watched her closely, to discover whether she still refused to drink ; but, though she was constantly fed on Indian coen, the cup and water still remained untouched and untasted. Yet, no sooner did he again sprinkle water on the bars of the cage, than she eagerly and rapidly picked them ofT, fis before. Tiie last and probably the strongest inducement to their preferring the.e places, is the small acorn of the shrub- oak, the strawberries, huckleberries and partridge-berries, with which they abound, and which constitute the lyincipal part of the food of these birds. These brushy thickets also allbrd them excellent shelter, being alixiost impenetrable to dogs or birds of prey. In all those places where they inhabit, they are, in the strictest sense of the word, resident ; having their particular haunts and places of rendezvous — as described in the preceding ac- count — to which they are strongly attached. Yet they have been known to abandon an entire tract of such country, when, from whatever cause it might proceed, it became again covered with fove>t. A few miles south of the town of York, in Penn- sylvania, commences an extent of country fairly of the charac- ter described, now chiedy covered with wood, but still retaining the name of Barrens. In the recollection of an old man, born in that part of the country, this tract abounded with Grouse. The timber growing up, in progress of years, these birds totally disappeared, and for a long period of time he had seen none of them, until, migrating with his family to Kentucky, on entering ' ,t '* I l i U ea FRANK FOKESTER S FIELD SPORTS. I :.» m » V 1 1 ■I I m the Barrens, he one mornin<]; recognized the well-known music of his old ac(juaintances, the Grouse, which, he assures nie, are the very same with those he had known in Pennsylvania. But, what appeared to me the most remarkable circumstance relative to this bird, is, that none of all those writers who have attempted ts history, have taken the least notice of those two extraordi- nary bai^s of yellow skin, which mark the neck of the male, and which constitute so striking a peculiarity. These appear to be formed by an e.Kpansion of the gullet, as well as of the exterior skin of the neck, which, when the bird is at rest, hangs in loose, pendulous wrinkled folds along the side of the neck, the supple- mental wings, at the same time, as well as when the bird is dy- ing, lying along the neck. But when these bags are inflated with air, in breeding-time, they are equal in size, and very much resemble in color a middle-sized, fully-ripe orange. By means of this curious apparatus, which is very observable seve- ral hundred yards otl", he is enabled to produce the extraordinary sound mentioned above, which though it may easily be imitated, is yet dillicult to describe by words. It consists of three notes of the same tone, resend)ling those produced by the JN'igut- Hawks, in their rapid descent, each strongly accented, the latter being twice as long as the others. When several are thus en- gaged, the ear is unable to distinguish the regularity of those triple notes, there being at such times one continued humming, which is disagreeable and perplexing, from the impossibility of ascertaining from what distance or quarter it proceeds. While uttering this, the bird exhibits all the ostentatious gesticulations of a Turkey-cock, erecting and fluttering his neck-wings, wheel- ing and passing before the female, and close before his fellows, as in defiance. Now and then are heard some rapid, cackling notes, not unlike that of a person tickled to excessive laughter ; and, in short, one can scarcely listen to them without feeling disposed to laugh from sympathy. These are uttered by the the males, while engaged in fight, on which occasion they leap up against each other, exactly in the manner of Turkies, seem- ingly with more malice than effect. This humming continues UPLAND SHOOTING. 63 from a little before ilay-breiik to eight or nine o'clock in the nioniin^, when the parties separate to seek for food. " Fresh-ploughe>l fields in the vicinity of tlieir resorts are sure to be visited by these birds, every morning, and frequcatiy also in the evening. On one of these I counted, at one time, seventeen males, most of whom were in the attitude repre- sented, making such a continued sound as, I am persuaded, miglit have been heard more than a mile oil'. The people of the Barrens informed me that when the weather becomes se- vere, with snow, th«y approach the barn and farm-iiouse, and are sometimes seen sitting on the fields in tiie Indian corn, seem- ing almost domesticated. At such times great nund)ers ate taken in traps. No pains, however, on regular plans, have ever been persisted in, as far as I was informed, to don\esticate these delicious birds. A Mr. Reid, who lives between the Pilot- Knous and Bairdstown, told me that, a few years ago, one of jiis sons found a G house's nest, with fifteen eggs, which he brought home and immediately placed beneath a hen then sitting, tak- ing away her own. The nest of the Grouse was on the ground, under a tussock of long grass, formed with very little art and few materials. The eggs were brownish white, and about the size of a pullet's. In three or four days, the whole were hatched. Instead of following the Hen, they compelled her to move after them, distracting her with the extent iind di- versity of their wanderings ; and it was a day or two before they seemed to understand her language, or consent to be guided bv her. They were let out to the fields, where they paid little ^ regard to their nurse, and, in a few^ days, only three of them re- mained. These became exceedingly tame and familiar, were most expert fly-catchers, but soon after they also disappeared. "On dissecting these birds, the gizzard was found extremely muscular, having almost the hardness of a stone ; the heart remarkably large ; the crop was filled with briar-knots, con- taining the larvte of some insect, quantities of a species of green lichen, small, hard seeds, and some grains of Indian Corn." . — Wifsnn''s Am. Ornith. VOL. L 7 !'i'-"|! .: I ) ■ t V i: i \ \ ; i.ii »u FRANK FORESTI'.U'S FIELD SPORTS. Next to this fine bird, both in his game qualities and the excellence of his llesh, I note, unhesitatingly. l!i! >. THE RUFFED GROUSE. Telrao Umbelhis. Linn: Wilson: Audubon. La Gelinotte Hup- pee de Fcnnsyhanie. Brissot. — The Pheasant, or Partridge. ".Male, 18.24. " Common from ^Maryland to Labrador, and, in the interior, from the mountainous districts to Canada and the Jashatchewan, Columbian River. Resident. " Adult :\Iale. " Bill short, robust, slightly arched, rather obtuse ; the base covered by feathers ; upper mandible, with the dorsal outline, straight m the feathered part, convex toward the end, the edges overlapping, the tip declinate ; under mandible somewhat bulg- ing toward the tip ; the sides convex. Nostrils concealed among the feathers. Head and neck small. Body bulky. Feet of or- dinary length. Shank feathered, excepting at the lower part in front, where it is scutellate, spurless ; toes scutellate above, pec- tinate on the sides ; claws arched, depressed, obtuse. " Plumage compact, glossy. Feathers of head narrow, and elongated into a curved tuft. A large space on the neck desti- tute of feathers, but covered by an erectile ruff of elongated fea- thers, of which the upper are silky, shining, and curved forward at the end, which is very broad and rounded. Wings short, broad, curved, and much rounded. Tail long, ample, rounded, of eighteen feathers. " Bill brown color, brownish-black toward the tip. Iris hazel. Feet yellowish-gray. Upper part of the head and wing part of the neck bright yellowish-red. Back rich chesnut, marked with oblong white spots, margined with black. " Tail reddish-yellow, barred and minutely mottled with black, and terminated by a broad band of the latter color, between two narrow bands of bluish-white, of which the one is terminal. A UPLAND SHOOTING. 65 yellowish band from the upper mandible to the eye, beyond which it is prolonged. Throat and low-er part of the neck light brownish-yellow. Lower rulf feathers of the same color, barred with reddish-brown ; the upper black, with blue reflections. A tuft of li<>;ht chesnut feathers under the wini^s. The rest of the under parts yellowish-white, with broad, transverse spots of brownish-red ; the abdomen yellowish-red ; and the under tail coverts mottled with brown. " Length, 18 inches ; extent of wings, 2 feet ; bill, along the ridge, 'i ; along the gap, IJj ; shank, ly^-; middle toe, 1;'. " Adult female. " The plumage of the female is less developed, and inferior in beauty. The feathers of the head and rulF are less elongated ; the latter of a dull black. The tints of the plumage generally are lighter than in the male. " The eggs usually measure an inch and a half in length, by an inch and two-twelfths in breadth, and are of an uniform dull yellowish tint." — Auduboii's Birds of America. " This is the Partridge of the Eastern States, and the Phea- sant of Pennsylvania and the Southern Districts. It is represent- ed as it was faithfully copied from a perfect and very beautiful specimen. This elegant species is well known in almost every quarter of the United States, and appears to inhabit a very extensive range of country. It is common at Moose B^oRT, on Hudson's Bay, in lat. 51°, is frequent in the upper parts of Georgia, very abundant in Kentucky, and the Indiana Territory, and was found by Capts. Lewis and Clark in crossing the great range of mountains that <' vide the waters of the Columbia and Missouri more than three thousand miles, by the measurement, from the mouth of the latter. Its favorite places of resort are high mountains, cov- ered with the balsam, pine, hemlock, and other evergreens Unlike the Pinnated Grouse, it always prefers the woods, is seldom or never found in open plains, but loves the pine-shel- tered declivities of mountains near streams of water 1 i n 1 • ' V' il 1 i i' i:!' i ■;>(■ ^\ . !■! :l'ii 1 i m 1 ^ \ . . . < i ; i i a ■ 1 ' 1 : 1 ; 1 ' " li I ■ i ', ■ '• 1 ... , . i i 1 -iri ! I [ lit :;!■ I 66 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. * This great difference of disposition in two species wliose food seems to be nearly the same, is very extraordinary. In those open plains called the Barrens, in Kentucky, the Pinnated Grouse was seen in great numbers, but none of the Ruffed. While in the high groves with which this singular tract of coun- try is interspersed, the latter, or Pheasant, was frequently met with, but not a single individual of the former. The native haunts of the Pheasant, being a cold, high, mountainous, and woody country, it is natural to expect that as we descend from thence to the sea shores, and the low, flat, find warm climate of the Southern States, these birds should become more rare, and such IS indeed the case. In the low parts of Carolina, and Geor- gia, and Florida, they are very seldom observed, but as we advance inland to the mountains, they again make their appear- ance. In the low parts of New Jersey we indeed occasionally meet with them, but this is owing to the more northerly situa- tion of the country, for even here they are far less numerous than among the mountains. Dr. Burton, and several other English writers, have spoken of a Long-tailed Grouse, said to inhabit the back parts of Virginia, which can be no other than the present species ; there being, as far as I am acquainted, only these two,* the Ruffed and Pinnated Grouse, found natives within the United States. The manners of the Pheasant are solitary, they are seldom found in coveys of more than four or five together, and more usually in pairs, or singly. They leave their seques- tered haunts in the woods early in the morning, and seek the path or road to pick up gravel, and glean among the droppings of the horses. In travelling among the mountains that bound the Susquehanna, I was always able to furnish myself with an abundant supply of these birds without leaving the path. If the weather be foggy or lowering, they are sure to be seen in such situations. They generally move along with great stateliness, the broad, fan-like tail spread out. " The drumming, as it is usually called, of the Pheasant, is another singularity of this species. This is performed by the * This is, of course, an error of Wilson's male al by the^ kind of full-blo^ at first I till they very dis few mil] may be ] mon in s It is proi an old p tion, low throat, e inflates I cock, stri few mano wings in s rapid unti ed. This have heai of this, tl quainted t distance, i is. The early in ]V bush, old rounded v\ open abov The eggs e "without an young leav cluck of t Hen. On tionate mar * Au erro UPLAXD SHOOTING. 67 ' J male alone. In walking through the solitary woods frequented by these birds, a stranger is surprised by suddenly hearing a kind of thumping, very,similar to that produced by striking two full-blown ox-bladders together, but much louder ; the strokes at first are slow and distinct, but gradually increase in rapidity, till they run into each other : resembling the rumbling sound of very distant thunder dying away gradually on the ear. After a few minutes' pause, this is again repeated, and in a calm day may be heard nearly a mile off. This drumming is most com- mon in spring, and is the call of the cock to a favorite female. It is produced in the following manner : The bird, standing on an old prostrate log, generally in a retired and sheltered situa- tion, lowers his wings, erects his expanded tail, contracts his throat, elevates the two tufts of feathers on the neck, and inflates his whole body something in the manner of a Turkey- cock, strutting and wheeling about in great stateliness. After a few manoeuvres of this kind he begins to strike with his stiffened wings in short and quick strokes, which become more and more rapid until they run into each other, as has been already describ- ed. This is most common in the morning and evening, though I have heard them drumming at all hours of the day. By means of this, the gunner is led to his retreat, though to those unac- quainted with the sound there is great deception in the supposed distance, it generally appearing to be much nearer than it really is. The Pheasant* begins to pair in April, and builds its nest early in May. This is placed on the ground at the root of a bush, old log, or other sheltered or solitary situation, well-sur- rounded with withered leaves. Unlike that of the Quail, it is open above, and is usually composed of dry leaves and grass. The eggs are from nine to fifteen in number, of brownish-wliite, without any spots, and nearly as large as those of a Pullet. The young leave the nest as soon as hatched, and are directed by the cluck of the mother, very much in the manner of the common Hen. On being surprised, she exhibits all the distress and affec- tionate maniEUvres of the Quail, and most other birds, to lead you * Au error ! Tlie RutFud Grouse is polygumous, aud does not pair ut ulL ■1' ' i'V i^ I n 68 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. away from the spot. I once started a lien Pheasant with a single young one, seemingly only a few days old ; there miosed than ours to the ravages of guns, dogs, traps, and the deep snows of winter, that the new tribe might have full time to become completely natu- ralized and well fixed in all tlieir native habits. About the beginning of September, the Quail being now nearly full grown and associated in flocks or coveys of from four or five to tliirty, afford considerable sport to the gunner. At this time the notes of the male are most frequent, clear, and loud. Ilis common call consists of two notes, with sometimes an introductory one, and is similar to the sound produced by pronouncing tiie words Bob White. This call may be easily mistaken by whistling, so as to deceive the bird itself, and bring it near. While uttering this he is usually perched on a rail of the fence, or a low limb of an apple tree, where he will sometimes sit repeating, at short intervals. Bob White, for half an hour at a time. When a covey are assembled in a thicket, or corner of a field, and about to take wing, they make a low, twittering sound, not unlike that of young Chickens ; and when the covey is dis- persed they are called together by a loud and frequently repeated note, peculiarly expressive of tenderness and anxiety. The food of the Partridge consists of grain, seeds, insects, and berries of various kinds. Buckwheat and Indian Corn are particular favorites. In September and October the Buckwheat fields afford them an abundant supply as well as a secure shelter. They usually roost at night in the middle of a field, on hiy-h ground, and from the circumstance of the duns bein": found in such places in one round heap, it is generally con- jectured that they roost in a circle with their heads outward ; each individual in this position forming a kind of guard to pre- vent surprise. They also continue to lodge for several nights in the same spot. The Partridge, like all the rest of the galli- naceous order, flies with a loud, whirring sound, occasioned by the shortness, concavity, and rapid motion of its wings, and the comparative weight J its body. The steadiness of its I J-;f . k' I ' : ! ■MBBHI 86 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. horizontal flight, however, renders it no difficult mark to the sportsman, particularly when assisted by his s.agacious pointer. The flesh of this bird is peculiarly white, tender and delicate, and unequalled by that of any other of its genus in the United States. There is only one species of Quail at present known within the United States." — Wilson''s Am. Ornithology. THE WOODCOCK. Scolopax Minor. — La Becasse d? Amerique — Brissot. The Mud- Snipe., Blind Snipe, Big-headed Snipe, Bog- Sucker. "Male, 11.16. Female, 11,4.171. " Distributed throughout the country, extremely abundant in the Middle and Eastern Districts, as well as in the interior, where it breeds as far as Nova Scotia. Equally abundant in winter, in the Southern States, though many migrate Southward. " Adult Male. " Bill double the length of the head, straight, slender, taper- ing, sub-trigonal, and deeper than broad at the base, slightly depressed toward the end. Upper mandible, with the dorsal line straight ; the ridge narrow, toward the end flattened ; the sides nearly erect, sloping outward toward the soft, obtuse edges; the tip blunt, knob-like, and longer than that of the lower mandible. Nostrils basal, lateral, lineal, very small. Lower mandible broader than the upper ; the angle very long and narrow, the dorsal line straight, the back broadly rounded, the sides marked with a deep groove, sloping inward at the base, outward toward the end, the edges soft ar.^; obtuse, the tip rounded. " Head rather large, oblong, narrowed anteriorly ; eyes large, and placed high. Neck short and thick. Body rather full. Feet rather short ; tibia feathered to the joint ; tarsus rather short, compressed, covered in front by numerous scutella ; on the sides and behind with sub-hexagonal scales, and having a row of small scutelliform scales along the outer side behind. Toes free, slender, the first very small, the second slightly UPLAND SHOOTING. 87 shorter than the fourth, the third much longer and exceeding the tarsus in length ; all scutellate above, murginate, flattish, beneath. Claws very small, arched, acute, that of the hind toe extremely small, of middle toe with a thin inner edge. " Plumage very soft, elastic, blended ; of the fore-part of the head very short ; of the neck full. Wings short, rounded ; the fourth and fifth quills about equal and longest, the first three extraordinarily attenuated, being in fact sublinear, narrower be- yond the middle, the inner web slightly eidargcd toward tb« end, the first as long as the seventh. Secondaries broad, the outer a little incurved and rounded, the inner tapering and elongated. Tail very short, wedge-shaped, of twelve narrow feathers, which taper toward the rounded point. " Bill light yellowish-brown, dusky toward the end. Iris brown. Feet Uesh-colored ; claws brownish black. The fore- head Is yellowish-gray, with a few dark mottlings in the centre. On the upper part of the head are two blackish-brown broad trans^'erse bands, and on the occiput two narrower, separated by bands of light red ; a brownish-black loral band and a narrow irregular line of the same across the cheek, and continued to the occiput. Tbe upper parts are variegated with brownish-black, light yellowish-red, and ash-gray. There are three broad, lon- gitudinal bands of the first color, barred with the second, down the back, separated by two of the last. The inner wing co- verts and secondary quills are similarly barred ; the outer, pale grayish-re J, faintly barred with dusky. The quills are grayish- brown, tipped with dull gray, the secondaries spotted on the outer we!) wilh dull red. U[)per tail coverts barred ; tail fea- thers brownish-black, their tips gray, their outer edges mottled with reldish. Tbe sides of the neck are gray, tinged with red ; the lower parts in general, light red, tinged with gray on the brea:it, on the sides and lower wing coverts deeper ; the lower tail coverts with a central dusky line, and the tip white. " Length to end of tail, 11 inches ; to end of wings, 9^ ; wing from flexure, 5} ; tail, 2t2 ; bill along the ridge, 2yii ; along P ' . ) U !■ !-:'■ .!ir 8R FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. !i' I \m 'I i. the edge of the lower mandible, 2]] ; tarsus, ly^a } middle toe, If'a, its claw, 4 ; weight, 64 oz. " Adult Female. " The female, which is considerably larger, has the same co- lors as the male. " Length to end of tail, II/5 ; to end of wings, 10,^7; to end of claws, 13,V; wing, from flexure, 5,V; tail, 2,';r; bill along the ridge, 2}!}; along tbe edge of lower mandible, 2^',' ; tarsus, 1t"2 ; middle toe, Irli ; its claw, \ ; weight, S^oz. " Fledged young. " When fully fledged, similar to the old birds." — Audubon'a Birds of America. " This bird is universally known to our sportsmen. It arrives in Pennsylvania early in March — sometimes sooner — and, I doubt not, in mild winters, some few remain with us the whole of that season. " During the day they keep to the woods and thickets, and at the aj)proach of evening seek the high and open country places to feed in. They soon disperse themselves over the country to breed. About the beginning of July, particularly in long-conti- nued hot weather, they descend to the marshy shores of our large rivers, their favorite springs and watery recesses inland being chiefly dried up. To the former of these retreats they are pursued by tbe merciless sportsman, flushed by dogs, and shot down in great numbers. This species of amusement, when eagerly followed, is still more laborious than Snipe-shooting ; and, from the nature of the ground, or " cripple," as it is usually called — viz., deep mud inteisected with old logs, which are co- vered and hid from sight by high reeds, weeds, and alder bushes — the best dogs are soon tired out, and it is customary with sportsmen who regularly pursue this diversion, to have two sets of dogs to relieve each other alternately. " Tlie Woodcock usually begins to lay in April. The nest is placed on the ground, in a retired part of the woods, frequently at the root of an old stump. It i« formed of a few Avitherei* UPLAND SHOOTING. 89 leaves anil stalks of grass, laid with very little art. The female lays four, soiiietiines live e;^!^s, about an inch and a half long, and an inch, »r rather more, in diameter, tapering suddenly to the small cud. These are of a dull clay color, marked with spots of brown, particularly at the great end, and interspersed Avith others of a very pale purple. The nest of the Woodcock has, in several instances that have come to my knowledge, been found with eggs in February, but its usual time of beginning to lay is in April. In July, August and .September, they are con- sidered in good order for shooting. The Woodcock is properly a nocturnal bird, feeding chieHy at night, and seldom stirring about till after sunset. At such times, as well as in the early part of the morning, particularly in the spring, he rises by a kind of spiral course, to a considerable height in the air, uttering at times a sudden quack, till having gained his utmost height, he hovers around in a Avild and irregular manner, making a sort of murmuring sound, then descends with rapidity, as he rose. When uttering his common note on the ground, lie seems to do it with dillicully, throwing his head toward the earth, and frequently jet- ting up his tail. These notes and mauoiuvres are inost usual in the spring, and are the call of the male to his favorite female. Their food consists of various larvic and other aquatic worms, for which, during the evening, they are almost continually turning over the leaves with their bills, or searchint; in the boi^s. Their flesh is reckoned delicious, and prized highly. They remain with us till late in the autumn, and, on the falling of the first snows, descend from the ranges of the Alleghany to the lower parts of the country, in great numbers — soon after which, viz., in November, they move olF to the South. This bird, in its gene- ral figure and manners, very greatly resemble the Woodcock of Euro[)e ; but is considerably less, and diflerently marked below, being an entirely distinct species. A few traits will clearly point out these differences. The lower parts of the ICuropean Wood- cock are thickly barred with dusky-waved lines on a yellowish- white ground. The present species has those parts of a bright ferruginous. The male, of the An>ericaa species, weighs from t , m ;i I ! '.I \ ! 90 FRANK FORESTEH S FIELD SPORTS. hi!!i :;ii five to six ounces, the female eight ; the European twelve. The European Woodcock makes his first appearance in Britain in October and Novemher, that country being, in fact, only its winter quarters ; for, early in March, they move off" to the northern parts of the continent to breed. The American spe- cies, on the contrary, winters in countries south of the United States, arrives here early in March, extends its migration as for at least as the river St. Lawrence — breeds in all the intermediate places, and retires again to the South on the approach of winter. The one migrates from the torrid to the temperate regions — the other from the temperate to the Arctic. The two birds, there- fore, notwithstanding their names are the same, difl'er not only in size and markings, but also in native climate. Hence the ab- surdity of those who would persuade us that the Woodcock of America crosses the Atlantic to Europe, and vice versa. These observations have been thought necessary, from the res])ectability of some of our own waiters, who seem to have adopted this opi- nion. How far to the North our Woodcock is found, I am un- able to say. It is not mentioned as a bird of Hudson's Bay, and being altogether unknown in the Northern parts of Europe, it is very ])robable that its migrations do not extend to a very high latitude ; for it may be laid down as a general rule, that those birds which migrate to the Arctic regions, in either continent, are very often common to both. The head of the Woodcock is of singular conformation — large, somewhat triangular, and the eye fixed at a remarkable distance from the bill, and high in the head. Tliis construction was necessary to give a greater range of vision, and to secure the eye from injury while tlie owner is searching in the mire. The flight of the Woodcock is slow. When Hushed at any time in the woods, he rises to the height of the bushes or underwood, and almost instantly drops behind them again at a short distance, generally running off' for several yards as soon as he touches the ground. The notion that there are two species of Woodcock in this country, probably originated from the great difference of size between the n«iale and female — • the latter being considerably the larger. When taken, thev ut« i-'^i Pff;f If 1 Pi ) 1 [ !^ > vn ; tarsus, ij ; middle toe, 2fa j its claw Ta; weight, from 2h to 3lbs. " Adult female. " Bill black in the middle, dull orange at the extremities and along the edges. Iris as in the male, as are the feet. The general color of the upper parts is pale yellowish-brown, streaked and spotted with dusky brown. The feathers of the head are narrowly streaked, of the back with the margin and a central streak yellowish-brown, the rest of the scapulars similar, but Avith the light streak on the outer web. The wings are nearly as in the male ; the speculum similar, but with less green. The lower parts dull olive, deeper on the lower neck, and spotted with brown. " Length, 22 inches ; weight, from 2lbs. to 2^. n 1 1 1;! It I iri f 108 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. " The young acquire the full plumage in the course of the first winter." — Audubon'' s Birds of America. " The common Wild Duck is found in every fresh water lake and river of the United States, in winter, spring, or au- tumn, but seldom frequents the sea shore or salt marshes. Their summer residence is the North, the great nursery of this nume- rous genus. Instances have been known of some solitary pairs breeding here in autumn ; in England these instances are more common. The nest is usually placed in the most solitary recesses of the marsh or bog, amidst coarse grass, reeds, and rushes ; and generally contains from twelve to sixteen eggs, of a dull greenish-white. The young are led about by the mother in the same manner as those of the tame Duck, but with a superior caution, cunning, and watchful vigilance, peculiar to her situation. " The male attaches himself to one female, as among other birds in their native state, and is the guardian and protector of her and her feeble brood. The Mallard is numerous in the rice fields of the Southern States during winter ; many of the fields being covered with a few inches of water, and the saattered grains of the former harvest lying in abundance, the Ducks swim about and feed at pleasure. The ilesh of the common Wild Duck is in general and high estimation, and the ingenuity of man, in every country where it frequents, has been enqiloyed in inventing stratagems to overreach these wary birds, and pro- cure a delicacy for the table. To enumerate all these various contrivances would far exceed our limits ; a few, however, of the most sinqjle and efi'ective may be mentioned. In some ponds • frequented by these birds, five or six wooden* figures are painted so as to represent ducks, and sunk by pieces of lead nailed on the bottoms, so as to float at the usual depth on the surface, are anchored in a favorable position for being raked from a concealment of brush, etc., on shore. The appearance of these usually attracts passing Hocks, which alight, and are shot down. Sometimes eight or ten of these painted wooden UPLAND SHOOTING. 109 ducks are fixed on a frame, in various swimming postures, and secured to the bow of the gunner's skiff, projecting before it in such a manner that the weiffht of the frame sinks the fii^ures to the proper depth ; the skiff is then dressed with sedge or coarse grass, in an artful manner, as low as the water's edge, and under cover of this, which appears like a party of Ducks swimming by a small island, the gunner floats down, sometimes to the very- skirts of a whole congregated multitude, and pours in a destruc-f tive and repeated fire of shot among them. " In winter, when detached pieces of ice are occasionally floating in the river, some of the gunners on the Delaware paint their whole skiff, or canoe, white ; and laying themselves flat at the bottom, with the hand on the side, silently managing a small paddle, direct it imperceptibly into or near a flock, before the Ducks have distinguished it from a floating mass of ice, and generally do great execution among them. A whole flock has sometimes been thus surprised asleep, with their heads under their wings. " On land, another stratagem is sometuiies practised with great success. A large, tight hogshead is sunk in the flat marsh or mud, near the place where Ducks are accustomed to feed at low water, Jind where, otherwise, there is no shelter ; the edges and top are carefully concealed with tufts of long, coarse grass, and reeds or sedges. From within this, the gunner, imseen and unsuspected, watches his collecting prey ; and when a suf- ficient number offers, sweeps them down with great effect. " The mode of catching Wild Ducks, as practised in India and China, the island of Ceylon, and some parts of South Ameri- ca, has been often described, and seems, if reliance may be placed on those accounts, only practicable in water of a certain depth. The sportsman, covering his head with a hollow wooden vessel or calabash, pierced with holes to see through, Avades into the water, keeping his head only above, and thus dis- guised, moves in among the flock, which takes the appearance to be a mere floating calabash, while suddenly pulling them under by the legs, he fastens them to his girdle, and thus takes as ^^"'1 i 1 ' ■ '.: ':' i ' . .1 • I , Ml 110 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. many as he can conveniently stow away, without in the least alarnaing the rest. They are also taken with snares made of horsehair, or with hooks baited with small pieces of sheep's lights, which, floating on the surface, are swallowed by the Ducks, and with them the hooks. They are also approached under cover of a stalking horse, or a figure formed of thin boards, or other proper materials, and painted so as to represent a horse or an ox. " But all these methods require much watching, toil, and fatigue ; and their success is but trifling when compared with that of the decoys now used both in France and England ; which, from its superiority over every other mode, is well de- serving the attention of persons of this country residing in lue neighborhood of extensive marshes frequented by Wild Ducks, as by this method Mallard and other kinds may be taken by thousands at a time." — Wilson^s Am. Ornithology. Next in size, though neither in beauty nor in excellence, to the Mallard, comes the Dusky Duck, better known in every part of the United States as the Black Duck, the latter being a misnomer as applied to this fowl, and really belonging to a very different bird, which will be treated of hereafter with the Sea Ducks — FuligulcB. This bird, unlike the former species, which is common to both continents, Europe and America, if not to Africa and Asia also, is peculiar to North America, ranging from Labrador to Texas ; in both of which, strange to say, and in all the intermediate localities, it breeds and rears its young. THE DUSKY DUCK. Anas Obscura — Wilson^ Bonap. The Black Duck, "Breeds in Texas, westward, and throughout the United States, British Provinces, Labrador, and Columbia River. UPLAND SHOOTING. Ill Common in autumn and spring along the mlcklle Atlantic dis- tricts. Abundant in the Southern and Western States in winter. '' Adult male. " Bill about the length of the head, higher than broad at the base, depressed and widened toward the end, rounded at the tip. Upper mandible with the dorsal line sloping and a little concave, the ridge at the base broad and flat, toward the end broadly convex, as are the sides ; the edges soft and thin, the marginal lamellaj about forty on each side. The unguis obovate, curved, abrupt at the end. Nasal groove sub-basal, elliptical, filled with the soft membrane of the bill ; nostrils sub-basal, placed near the ridge, longitudinal, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible slightly curved upward, flattened, with the angle very long, narrow, and rather pointed ; the lamelke about sixty. " Head of moderate size, oblong, compressed. Neck rather long and .jiender. Body full, depressed. Feet short, stout, placed a little behind the centre of the body. Legs bare a little above the joint. Tarsus short, a little compressed, anteriorly with small scutella, externally of which is a series continuous with those of the outer toe, laterally and behind with reticulated angular scales. Hind toe extremely small, with a very narrow membrane ; third toe longest, fourth a little shorter, but longer than the second ; the scutella of the second and third oblique, of the outer transverse ; the three anterior toes connected by reticulated membranes, the outer with a thick margin, the inner with a margin extended into a slightly lobed web. Claws small arched, compressed, rather obtuse, that of the middle toe much larger, with a dilated thin edge. " Plumage dense, soft, elastic ; on the neck and head the fea- thers linear-oblong, on the other parts, broad and rounded. Wings of moderate breadth and length, acute ; primaries narrow and tapering, the second longest, the first very little shorter ; secondaries broad, curved inward ; the inner elongated and taper- ing. Tail short, much rounded, of eighteen acute feathers, none of which are recurved. " Bill yellowish-green, the unguis dusky. Iris dark brown. VOL. I. 10 I;l h ; Ml 1 \\ 1 1 If 1 ! i 1 III fflfli ! li ?■ 112 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. Feet orange-red, the webs dusky. The upper part of the Head is glossy brownish-hlack, the feathers margined with light brown ; the sides of the head and a l)and over the eye are light grayish-brown, with longitudinal dusky streaks ; the middle of the neck is similar, but more dusky. The general color is blackish-brown, a little paler beneath ; all the feathers margined with ])ale, reddish-brown. The wing coverts are grayish dusky, with a slight tinge of green ; the ends of the secondary coverts velvet-black. Primaries and their coverts blackish-brown, with the shafts brown ; secondaries darker ; the speculum is green, blue, violet, or amethyst-purple, according to the light in which it is viewed, bounded by velvet-black ; the feathers also tipped with a narrow line of white. The whole under surface of the wing and the axillaries, white. " Length to the end of tail, 24^ inches ; to the end of claws, 20 ; extent of wings, 38| ; bill, 2,''a along the back ; wing from flexure, llj ; tail, Aj^ ; tarsus, 1|J ; middle toe, 2^2 ; first toe, , a ; its claw, i% ; weight, 3lbs. " Adult female. " The female, which is somewhat smaller, resembles the male in color, but is more brown, and has the speculum of the same tints, but without the white terminal line. " Length to the end of tail, 22 inches ; to the end of wings, 21| ; to the end of claws, 22 ; wing from flexure, 10^ ; extent of wings, 34f ; tarsus, 2 ; middle toe and claw, 2^ ; hind toe and claw, 1^. " This species extends its migrations from the Straits of Belle- isle, on the coast of Labrador, to Texas. Strange as it may seem, it breeds in both of these countries, and in many of the intermediate places. On the 10th of May, 1833, I found it breeding along the marshy edges of the inland pools, near the Bay of Fundy ; and on Whitehead Island, in the same bay, saw several young birds of the same species, which, although appa- rently not a week old, were extremely active, both on land and water. On the 30th of April, 1837, my son discovered a nest on Galveston Island, in Texas. It was formed of f;rass and UPLAND SHOOTING. 113 feathers : the eggs, eight in nuniher, lying on the former, sur- rounded with the down and some feathers of the hird to the height of about three inches. The internal diameter of the ne.st was about six inches, and its walls were nearly three in thick- ness. The female was sitting, but flew olF in silence as he ap- proached. The situation was a clump of tall, slender grass, on a rather sandy ridge, more than a hundred yards from the near est water, but surrounded by partially dried salt marshes. On the same island, in the course of several successive days, we saw many of these Ducks, which, by their actions, showed that they also had nests. I may here state my belief, that the Gad- wall, Blue-winged Teal, Green-winged Teal, American Widgeon and Spoon-billed Duck, all breed in that country, as I observed them there late in May, when they were evidently paired. How far this fact may harmonize with the theories of writers respect- ing the migration of birds in general, is more than I can at pre- sent stop to consider. I have found the Black Ducks breeding on lakes near the Mississippi, as far up as to its confluence with the Ohio, as well as in Pennsylvania and New Jersey ; and every one acquainted with its habits will tell you that it rears its young in all the Eastern States intervening between that last mentioned and the St. Lawrence. It is even found on the Co- lumbia River, and on the streams of the Rocky Mountains ; but as Dr. Richardson has not mentioned his having observed it in Hudson's Bay, or farther north, we may suppose that it does not visit those countries. " As many of the nests found in Labrador differed from the one mentioned above, I will give you an account of them : — In several instances, we found them imbedded in the deep moss, at the distance of a few feet, or a few yards from the water ; they were composed of a great quantity of dry grass and other vege- table substances ; and the eggs were always placed directly on this bed, without the intervention of the down and feathers, which, however, surrounded them, and which, as I observed, the bird always uses to cover them, when she is about to leave them for a time. The eggs are two inches and a quarter in 1 1 ! ill I -v ■1^ MMIk 114 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. length, one inch and five-eighths in breadth, shaped like these of a domestic fowl, with a smooth surface, and of a uniform yellowish-white color, like that of ivory tarnished by long ex- posure. The young, like those of the Mallard, acquire the full beauty of their spring plumage before the season of reproduction commences, but exhibit none of the curious changes which that species undergo. " Although the Dusky Duck is often seen on salt wa*er bays or inlets, it resembles the Mallard in its habits, being fond of swampy marshes, rice fields, and the shady margins of our riv- ers, during the whole of its stay in such portions of the Southern Stales as it is known to breed in. They are equally voracious, and may sometimes be seen with their crops so protruded as to destroy the natural elegance of their form. When on the water, they obtain their food by immersing their head and neck in the water, and, like the Mallard, sift the produce of muddy pools. Like that species also, they will descend in a spiral manner from on high, to alight under an oak or a beech, where they have dis- covered the mast to be abundant. " The flight of this Duck is powerful, rapid, and as sustained as that of the Mallard. While travelling by day, they may be distinguished from that species by the whiteness of their lower wing-coverts, which form a strong contrast to the deep tints ot the rest of the plumage. Their progress through the air, when at full speed, must, I think, be at the rate of more than a mile in a minute, or about seventy miles an hour. W^hen about to alight, they descend with double rapidity, causing a strong, rustling sound by the weight of their compact bodies and the rapid movements of their pointed wings. When alarmed by a shot or otherwise, they rise off their feet by a powerful single spring, fly directly upwards for eight or ten yards, and then pro- ceed in a straight line. " The Black Ducks generally appear in the Sound of Long Island in September or October, but, in very cold weather, pro- ceed Southward ; while those which breed in Texas, as I have been informed, remain there all the year. At their arrival they UPLAND SHOOTING. 115 betake themselves to the fresh-water ponds, and soon become fat, when they afford excellent eating ; but when the ponds are covered with ice, they betake themselves to estuaries or inlets of the sea, and their flesh becomes less juicy, and assumes a fishy flavor. During continued frost, they cojlect into larger bodies than at any other time — a flock once alighted seeming to attract others, until at last hundreds of them meet, especially in the dawn and toward sunset. The larger the flock, however, the more diflicult it is to approach it, for many sentinels are seen on the lookout, while the rest are asleep or feeding along the shores. Unlike the Sea Ducks, this species does not ride at an- chor, as it were, during its hours of repose." — Auduhoii's Birds of America. THE BLUE-WINGED TEAL. Anas Discors. " Male, 16. 3U. Female, 15.24. " Breeds in Texas and Westward, Great Lakes, Fur Coun- tries, Columbia River. Very abundant in autumn and spring in the Middle Atlantic Districts, as well as in the interior. Abun- dant also in all the Southern States. " Adult Male. " Bill almost as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end ; its breadth nearly equal in its whole length, being, however, a little enlarged toward the rounded tip. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline at first sloping, then nearly straight, on the unguis decurved, the ridge broad and flat at the base, suddenly narrowed over the nostrils, broader and convex toward the end ; the sides erect at the base, afterward sloping and convex ; the narrow membranous mar- gins a little broader at the end. Nostrils sub-basal, near the ridge, rather small, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible flat- tened, straight, with the angle very long and rather narrow, the i :fj * ■•■• I f ' % !•; t • ■ : I III' ili ' I- '• 1 :. \ 116 FRANK FOIIESTER's FIELD SPORTS. dorsal line very short and slightly convex, the sides internally erect, Avith ahout a hundred and twoity lamellae. " Head of a moderate size, oblong, compressed. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Feet short, placed rather far back. Tarsus short, compressed at its lower part, anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest cov- ered with reticulated angular scales. Toes with numerous scu- tella above. First toe verv small, and with a narrow mendirane beneath; third longest; fourth about a quarter of an inch shorter ; the anterior toes united by reticulated webs, of which the outer is deeply sinuate. Claws small, curved, comjiressed, acute ; the hind one smaller and more curved, that of the third toe largest, and with the inner margin sharp. " Plumage dense, soft and blended. Feathers of the head and neck very small and slender — of the back and lower parts in general, broad and rounded. Wings of moderate length, ratber narrow and acute ; primaries strong, .slightly curved, tapering ; the first scarcely lunger than the second, the rest rapidly de- creasing ; secondaries broad, the outer obli(iuely rounded, the inner elongated and acuminate, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounded and acuminate, of fourteen rather narrow acumi- nate feathers. " Bill bluish-black. Iris dark hazel. Feet dull yellow ; webs dusky. Claws brownish-black, with the tips grayish-yel- low. Upper part of the head black ; a semilunar patch of pure white on the side of the head before the eye, margined before and behind with black. The rest of the head, and the anterior parts of the neck, of a deep purplish-blue, with purplish-red re- flections ; the lower hind neck and fore-part of back brownish- black, glossed with green, each feather with a curved band of pale reddish-bufF, and a line or band of the same in the centre ; the hind part of the back greenish-brown, tlie feathers edged with paler. The smaller wing-coverts of a rich ultra-marine blue, silky, with almost metallic lustre. Alula, primary coverts and primary quills, grayish-brown, edged with pale bluish ; outer secondaries of the same color, those of the speculum duck- v':\ UPLAND SHOOTING. 117 green, changing to blue and bronze, with a narrow line of white along their terminal margin ; the inner greenish-black on the outer web, greenish-brown on the inner, with a central line and narrow external margin of pale reddish-buif; the more elongated scapulars similar, but some of them margined with greenish- blue. Secondary coverts brown, with their terminal portion white. Tail feathers chocolate-brown, slightly glossed with green ; their margins bufiy. The lower parts are pale reddish- orange, shaded on the breast with purplish-red, and thickly spotted with black, the number of roundish or elliptical spots on each feather varying from ten to twenty-five ; those on the upper and hind parts of the sides running into transverse bars. Axil- lary feathers, some of the lower wing-coverts, and a patch on the side of the rump, pure white ; lower tail coverts brownish-black. " Length to end of tail, 16 inches ; to end of claws, 14] ; to end of wings, 14] ; extent of wings, 31| ; wing from ilexure, 7,V ; tail, 3rV; bill along the back, 1] ; from frontal process to tip, Ij ; tarsus, 1,%; first toe and claw, /^ ; middle toe and claw. 111 ; outer toe and claw, If'o ; weight, 12^oz. " Adult Female. " Bill greenish-dusky. Iris hazel. Feet of a duller yellow than those of female ; the head and neck are pale, dull bufi', lon- gitudinally marked with brownish-black lines, which are broad "^r and darker on the top of the head ; the fore-parts of the cheek and the throat whitish, without markings. The upper parts are dark brown, the feathers margined with brownish-white. The smaller wing-coverts colored as in the male, but less brilliantly ; no blue on the scapulars, which are also less elongated. On the lower parts, the feathers are dusky-brown, broadly margined with light brownish-gray, of which there is a streak or spot in the centre. The axillary feathers, and some of the lower wing- coverts are white, but the patch of that color, so conspicuous in the male, is wanting. "Length to end of tail, 15 inches; to end of wings, 14j; to end of claws, ITiJ ; extent of wings, 24; wing from fiexure, 7] ; tail, 2,''3 ; bill along the ridge, 2/^ ; weight, lOjoz. 1 : ' C" I- )'| 118 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. " The young birds are similar to the female, but paler, and without the S'peculum." — Auduboii's Birds of America. " The Blue-Wixged Teal is the first of its tribe that returns to us in the autumn from its breeding-place in the North. They are usually seen early in September along the shores of the Dela- ware, where they sit on the mud, close to the edge of the water, so crowded together, that the gunners often kill great numbers at a sinsfle discharije. When a Hock is discovered thus sitting and sunning themselves, the experienced gunner runs his baAeau ashore at some distance above or below them, and, getting out, pushes her before him over the slippery mud, concealing him- self all the while behind her. By this method he can sometimes approach within twenty yards of the flock, among whicli he generally makes great slaughter. They fly rapidly, and Mhen they alight, drop down suddenly, like the Snipe or Woodcock, aniong the reed,? or on the mud. They feed chiefly on vegeta- ble food, and are eagerly fond of the seeds of the reeds or wild oats. Their flesh is excellent, and after their residence for a short time among the reeds, they become very fat. As the first frosts come on, they proceed to the South, being a delicate bird, very susceptible of cold. The< abound in the inundated rice fields of the Southern States, vvhere vast numbers are taken in traps, placed on small dry eminences, that here and there rise above the water. These places are strewed with rice, and by the common contrivance called a fiyiire four they are caught alive in hollow traps. In the month of April they pass through Penn- sylvania for the North, but make little stay at that season. I have observed them numerous on the Hudson, o])posite to the Katskill Mountains. They rarely visit the sea shore." — Wil son''s Am. Ornithology. The Blue-Winged Teal is stated to be very easily tan ,ed, and very docile in confinement. It is strange that this bird lUid the Wood Duck are not both domesticated. f I t Wtk It! f I 1^ E ar hi w re in bi sv L n (1 UPLAND SHOOTING. 119 THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. Anas Crecca, sive, CaroUnensis. « Male, 14^24. Female, 134'.22i. " Dispersed throughout the country during autumn and spring. Extremely abundant during winter in all the Southern vStates and Texas. Breeds sparingly along the Great Lakes, and far North. " Adult Male. " Bill almost as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, its breadtli nearly equal in its whole length, being, howe'-er, a little enlarged toward the rounded tip. Upper mandible with the dorsal line at first slop- ing, then concave, toward the ends nearly straight, the ridge broad and ilat at the base, then broadly convex, the sides con- vex, the edges soft, wnth about fifty-five lamelhe. Nostrils sub-basal, near the ridge rather small, elliptical, jjcrvious. Lov.er mandible flattish, with the angle very long and rather narrow. The dorsal line very short, straight, the sides perpen- dicular, with about a hundred and thirty lamell*. " Head of moderate size, compressed. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Wings rather small. Feet short, placed rather far buck. Tarsus short, com- pressed at its lower part, anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated angular scales. Toes scutel- late above ; first toe very small, free, with a narrow membrane beneatli ; third longest, fourth a little shorter ; the anteritn' toes connected by reticulated webs, of which the outer is deeply si- nuate. Claws small, curved, compressed, acute ; the hind one smaller and more curved ; that of the third toe largest, and with an inner sharp edge. " Plumage dense, soft, blended. Feathers of the middle of the head and upi)er part of hind neck very narrow, elongated, with soft, filamentous, disunited bands ; of the rest of the head ■:^: f / r ;i! 1 /' i I ! t: ' ill fiaEfifiKHBOUC^BS t I .1 I i f 1^ ififl r I 4 120 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. and uj)pcr parts of neck very short ; of the back ami lower parts in general, broad and rounded. Wings of moderate length, narrow, acute. P''niaries strong, curved, tapering ; second longest; first scare ..y shorter ; secondaries broad, rather point- ed, the inner elongated and ta])ering, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounded and acuminate, of sixteen acuminate feathers. " Bill black. Iris brown. Feet light bluish-gray. Head and upper part of the neck chestnut-brown ; a broad band narrowing backward from the eye down the back of the neck, deep, shin- ing green, edged with black below ; under which is a white line, which, before the eye, meets another that curves forward and downward to the angles of the mouth. Chin brownish-black, as are the feathers at the base of the upper mandible. Upper parts and Hanks beautifully undulated with narrow, brownish-black and white bars ; anterior to the wings is a short, broad, trans- verse band of white. Wings brownish-gray ; the speculum in the lower half violet-black, the upper bright green, changing to purple, and edged with black ; behind margined with white, be- fore with reddish-white. Tail brownish-gray, the feathers mar- gined with paler ; the upper coverts brownish-black, edged with light yellowish-gray. Lower part of neck anteriorly barred as Ijehind. Breast yellowish-white, spotted with black ; its lower part Mhite. Abdomen white, faintly barred with gray. A patch of black under the tail ; the lateral tail-coverts cream- colored, the larger black, with broad white margins and tips. " Length to end of tail, 141 inches ; to end of claws, 15' ; extent of wings, 24 ; wing from flexure, 7j- ; tail, 3} ; bill along the back, Ir^a ; along the edge of lower mandible, Icn'i tarsus, li^j ; middle toe, l/'^ ; its claw, i% j weight, lOoz. " Adult female. " The fcinale wants the elongated crest, and difi'ers greatly in coloring. The head and neck are streaked with dark brown and light red ; the foreneck whitish ; the upper parts mottled with dark brown ; the anterior feathers barred, the posteriors margined with yellowish-white. The wings are nearly as in the male, but the green of the sj)eculum is less extensive ; the UPLAND SIIOOTINO. 121 lower part of the foreneck is tinged with yellowish-red, and mottled with dark brown, as are the sides ; the rest of the lower parts white. " Length to end of tail, 13f ; to end of claws, 14| ; extent of wings, 221; weight, lOoz. '>^—Atidubon^s Birds of America. Yt .-r m I t'; ',: ly 1 1 *■ ^- 1 1 ! \ i i "Most writers on the ornithology of America have consid- ered this bird as a variety of the European Teal. All, how- ever, agree in their regarding the difference in the variety, and of its being constant in the Northern specimens. Thus, Dr. Latham mentions the white pectoral band. Forster says, ' This is a variety of the Teal, for it wants the two white streaks above and below the eyes ; the lower one indeed is faintly ex- pressed in the male, which has also a lunated bar of white over each shoulder; this is not to be found in the European Teal.' Pennant observes, ' that it wants the white line which the Euro- pean one has above each eye, having only one below ; has over each shoulder a lunated bar.' The authors of the Northern Zoologi/ observe, ' The only permanent dillbrence that we have been able to detect, after comparing a number of specimens, is that the Enijlish Teal has a Avhite longitudinal band on the scapulars, which the other wants. All the specimens brought home by the Pi^xpedition have a broad transverse bar on the shoul- der, Avhich does not exist in the English one.' And our author in his plate, has most distinctly marked the differences. From the testimony of all its describers, marking the variety as perma- nent and similar, I am certainly inclined to consider this bird, though nearly allied, to be distinct ; and as far as we yet know, peculiar to the Northern parts of America. I have not been able to procure a specimen for immediate comparison, and only once had an opportunity of slightly examining a Northern bird. From their great similarity no observers have yet particularly attended to the manners of the American bird, or to the mark- ings of the females. If the above observations are the means of directing farther attention to these points, they will have per- I r.i t :! f -I 1| . i: Vi:i u iJiiii'"]! '4 ■11 W 122 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. 11 , I formed their intended end. I by no means consider the point decided. " The naturalists of Europe have designated this little Duck by the name of American Teal, as being a species different from their own. On an examination, however, of the figure and de- scription of the European Teal, by the ingenious and accurate Bewick, and comparing them with the present, no dilleience whatever appears in the length, extent, color, or markings of either but what commonly occurs among individuals of any other tribe; both undoubtedly belong to one and the same species. " This, like the preceding, is a fresh water Duck, common in our markets in autumn and winter, but rarely seen here in summer. It frequents ponds, m.irshes, and the reedy shores of creeks and rivers ; is very abundant among the rice j)lantations of the Southern States ; flies in small parties, and feeds at night ; associates often w^th the Duck and Mallard, feeding on the seeds of various kinds of grasses and water plants, and also on the tender leaves of vegetables. Its flesh is accounted excel- lent." — Wilson''s Ornithological Biography. I have myself repeatedly shot this bird on both continents, and am now thoroughly convinced that the two species are perma- nently and invariably distinct. In my &st edition I recorded a contrary opinion, but subsequent examination of many specimens Las led to a correcter judgment. The transverse lunated bar on the shoulder of the American species, as exhibited in the accompanying cut, is the distinctive mark, and I am not sure but that our bird is somewhat the larger. THE WOOD PUCK— SUMMER DUCK. Anas Sponsa. " Male, 201.28. Female, 19i " Breeds throughout the country from Texas to the Coluna- i •»■ UPLAND SHOOTING. 123 ftia, and Eastward to Nova Scotia ; Fur Countries. Accumu- lates ill the Southern Districts in winter. "Adult male. "Bill shorter than the liead, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, slightly narrowed toward the middle of the unguis, the frontal angles prolonged and [)ointed. Uppyr mandible with the dorsal line at first sloping, then concave, along the unguis convex, the ridge broad and flat at the base, convex and sloping toward the end, edges soft -with about twenty-two lamellie, unguis broadly elliptical, curved, rounded. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible llattish, with the angle very long and rather narrow, the dorsal line very short, convex, the sides convex, the edges soft a;ul rounded, lamellate above. " Head of moderate size. Neck rather long and slender. Body full and depressed. Wings rather small. Feet very short, strong, placed rather far back ; tarsus very short, considerably depress- ed, at its lower part anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated angular scales. Toes scutellate above ; first very small, free, with a narrow membrane beneath ; third longest, fourth a little shorter ; claws small, curved, com- pressed, acute ; the hind one smaller and more curved, that of the third toe with an inner sharp edge. " Plumage dense, soft, blended, generally glossed. Feathers of the middle of the head and upper part of the hind neck very narrow, elongated, and uncurved ; of the rest of the head and upper part of the neck very short ; of the back and lower parts in general broad and rounded, excepting on the shoulders before the wings, where they are enlarged, very broad and abrupt. Wings of moderate length, narrow, acute ; primaries curved, strong, tapering, first and second longest ; secondaries broad and rounded. Tail of moderate length, rather broad, much rounded, of sixteen rounded feathers. " Upper mandible bright red at the base, yellowish at the sides ; the intermediate space along the ridge and the unguis black, as in the lower mandible and its membrane. Iris and 9BBS 124 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD Sl'OU IS. edises of eve-lids brij^ht leil. I'^eet dull oraiiut with- out the lateral processes of the male. Forepart of the neck below, and sides, light yellowish-brown, mottled ^\ilh dark grayish-brown, as are the sides under the wings ; breast and abdomen white, the former spotted Avith brown. Hind neck, back and rump, dark brown, glossed with green and purple Wings as in the male, but the speculum less, and the seconda- ries externally faint reddish-purple; the velvet l)lack of the male diminished to a few narrow markings. Tail dark brown, glossed with green ; lower tail-coverts pale grayish-brown, mottled with white; lower wing-coverts as in the male. " Length, in), inches. "Tbis beautiful species ranges over the whole extent of the United States, and I have seen it in all parts from Louisiana to the confines of IVIaine, and from the vicinity of our Atlantic coasts as far inland as my travels have extended. It also occurs sparingly in the breeding season in Nova Scotia, but farther North I did not observe it. Everywhere in this immense tract, I have found it an almost constant resident, for some spend the winter even in Massachusetts, and far up the warm sj)ring w.iters of brooks on the Missouri. It confines itself, however, entirely to fresh water, preferring at all times tbe secluded retreats of the ponds, bayous, or creeks, which occur so pro- fusely in our woods. " Tbe llight of this species is remarkable for its speed, and for the ease and elegance with which it is performed. The Wood Duck passes through the woods, and even among the branches of trees, with as much facility as the Passenger Pigeon ; and while removing from some secluded haunt to its breeding- I i i 1 ■ ,'• if •? I t J t M^. I I I It : 1 1 1: '. 1 I : mm 126 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. grounds at the approach of night, it shoots over the trees like a meteor, scarcely emitting any sound from its wings. " The Wood Duck breeds in the Middle States about the beginning of April, in Massachusetts a month later, and in Nova Scotia, or our Northern Lakes, seldom before the first days of June. In Louisiana and Kentucky, where I have had better opportunities of studying their habits in this respect, they gene- rally pair about the first of March, sometimes a fortnight earlier. I never knew one of these birds to form a nest on the ground, or on tho branches of a tree ; they always seem to pre- fer the hollow, b .>ken portion of some large marsh, the hole of our large Woodpecker, Picus Principalis^ or the deserted retreat of the fox squirrel ; and I have frequently been surprised to see them go in and out of a hole of any one of these, when their bodies while on wing, seemed to be nearly half as large again as the aperture within which they had deposited their eggs. Once only I found a nest with ten eggs, in the fissure of a rock, on the Kentucky River, a few miles below Frankfort. The eggs, which are from six to fifteen, according to the age of the bird, are placed on dry plants, feathers, and a scanty })ortion of down, which I believe is mostly plucked from the breast of the female. They are perfectly smooth, nearly elliptical, of a light color between bufi* and pale green, two inches in length by one and a half in diameter ; the shell is about equal in firmness to that of the Mallard's egg, and quite smooth. " No sooner has the female completed her set of eggs than she is abandoned by her mate, who now joins others, which form themselves into considerable flocks, and thus remain until the young arc able to fly, when old and young of both sexes come together, and so remain until the commencement of the next breeding season. If the nest is placed immediately over the water, the young, the moment they are hatched, scramble to the mouth of the hole, launch into the air with their little wings and feet spread out, and drop into their favorite element; but whenever their birth-place is at some distance from it, the UPLAND SHOOTING. 127 mother carries flieiu to it, one by one, in her bill, holding them so as not to injure their yet tender frames. " Tliose which breed in Maine, New IJruiiswick, and Nova Scotia, move southward as soon as tlie frosts coinnience, and none are known to spend tiie winter so far North. I liave been much surprised to fnid Wilson speaking of the Wood Ducks as a species of which more than five or six individuals are seldom seen together. A would-be naturalist in America, who has had better opportunities of knowing its habits than the admired author of the ' American Ornithology,' repeats the same error ; and I am told, believes that all his statements are considered true. For my own part, I have seen hundreds in a single dock, and have known fifteen to be killed by a single shot. They, however, raise only one brood in the course of the season, unless their eggs or young are destroyed. In this case the female soon finds means of recalling her mate from the flock which he has joined." — Audiihoti's Birds of America. The discrepant statements, alluded to in the last paragraph, concerning the gregarious habits of the Wood Duck, may be probably accounted for by the difference of the bird's manners in different localities. I have never myself seen above eight or nine of these birds together, and I presume that along the Atlantic seaboard, they are rarely seen in greater numbers. On the Great Lakes, and in the unbounded solitudes of the West, they doubtless congregate, as do many other species, in vast Hocks. There is nothing wdiich it behoves the observer of natural history more to guard against than a tendency to convert local or accidental peculiarities of individuals into settled habits of species. All wild animals appear to accommodate themselves with infinite facility to circumstances, and to adapt their man- ners to the necessities of the regions in which they chance to be thrown, more readily than is generally suspected. In one place, a species is solitary ; in another, gregarious in its cus- toms — here it is migratory, there domestic ; and to positive and VOL. I. 11 f M» 1 i,: I 128 FKANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ;: v\. genera! dicta, ascribing these habits invariably to this or that species, much confusion and inconvenience may be attributed. As an instance, I will merely state here, what I shall go into more largely hereafter, that the common Quail, Ortyx Vir(j'mia- na, which is to the Westward distinctly a bird of passage, with easily defined habits of migration, eastward of the Dela- ware River is unquestionably stationary ; and that front this undoubted fact, a question has arisen whether there were not two diderent species ; and, that hypothesis proved untenable, a doubt, among the less enlightened of Eastern sportsmen, whe- ther the naturalists and travellers wlio have insisted on the migratory habits of the Quail, especially on the Ohio and other large western rivers, have not ignorantly or wilfully falsified the truth. Such mistakes should be ;^uarded against Avith care, and all conflicting statements, as made by candid and earnest emjuirers, regarded with the utmost liberalily and allowance; A\hich, I regret to say, is too seldom practised by naturalists, who fre- quently a])pear to regard all who differ from themselves, much in the light of enemies, or of heretics, with whom no terms are to be kept. The last v/ater-fowl, of which I shall give a minute de^scrip- tion as falling under the head of Upland Game, is the I ' ' \V PINTAIL DUCK. Anas Acuta — TF7/soh. Lc Canard a Longue Queue — Bnssott. The JVinlcr Duck, Spriytail, Pifjeontall, vuhjo. " Male 29.36. Female 22|.34. " From Texas throughout the interior to the Columbia River, and along the Atlantic coast to Maine, during the winter, and early spring. Breeds in the Arctic regions. Abundant. UPLAND SHOOTING. 129 " Bill nearly as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, the frontal angles short and obtuse. Upper mandible M'ith dorsal line at first sloping, then concave — toward the curved unguis nearly straight ; the ridge broad and flat at the base, then broadly convex ; the sides convex ; the edges soft, with about fifty internal lanielliL- ; unguis small, somewhat triangular, curved abruptly at llie broad end. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible flatfish, its angle very long and narrow ; the dorsal line very short, slightly convex ; the sides convex ; the edges soft, with about fifty lamella?. " Head of moderate size, c(nTipressed, the forehead rounded. Neck rather long and slender. Body full and depressed. Wings rather small. Feet very short, placed rather far back ; tarsus very short, compressed, at its lower part anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reticulated scales. Toes obliquely scutellate above ; first very small, free, with a narrow membrane beneath ; third longest ; fourth a little shorter, their connecting webs entire, reticulated, at the end pectinate. Claws small, curved, compressed, acute; the hind one smaller and more curved— that of the third toe with an inner sharp edge. " Plumage dense, soft, blended. Feathers of the head and neck short ; on the hind head and neck elontiated. \Vin>rs narrow, of moderate length, acute ; the first quill longest, the second nearly equal, the rest rapidly graduateu ; outer seconda- ries broad and rounded; inner elongated and tapering, as are their coverts and the scapulars ; first quill serrated on the outer edge, something like that of the Owl. Tail of moderate length, tapering, of fourteen tapering feathers, of which the two middle project far beyond the rest. " Bill bkick; the sides of the upper mandible light blue Iris brown. Feet, grayish-blue. Claws black. Head, throat, and upper part of the neck anteriorly greenish-brown, faintly mar- gined behind with purplish-red. A small part of hind neck dark-green ; the rest, and the upper parts in general, beautifully .1 u. I I 130 PRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. i; I Ultjrt' undulated with very narrow bars of brownish-black and yellow- ish-white. Smaller wing-coverts, alula and primary quills graj- — the latter dark brown toward the end. Speculum of a coppery- red, changing to dull green ; edged anteriorly with light brown- ish-red ; posteriorly Avith white. The inner secondaries and the scapulars black and green, with broad gray margins. Upper tail-coverts cream-colored, the outer webs blackish and green ; tail light gray, the middle feathers dark brown, glossed with green. On each side of the neck is an oblique band of white, of which color are the under parts in general ; the sides, how- ever, are undulated like the back ; the lateral feathers of the rump cream-colored ; the lower tail-coverts black ; those at the sides edged with white. " Length to the end of tail, 29 inches ; extent of wings, 36 ; bill along the back, 2f^^ ; along the edge of lower mandible, 2ri ; tarsus, 1 ,"2 ; middle toe with claw, 2x2 ; wing from flexure, 1 1 ; tail, oh ; weight 2lbs. " Adult Female. " The female, which is much smaller, has the upper parts va- riegated with brownish-black and light yellowish-brown ; the niaririn of the feathers and a mark on each side of the shaft be- ing of the latter color. The sneculum is dusky green, margined behind with white. The priniiiry quills grayish-brown. The lower parts are of a light brownish-yellow, the sides variegated with brown ; the bill is black ; the iris brown ; the feet light bluish-gray. " Length, 22j inches ; extent of wings, 34 ; weight, lib. 9oz. " T the breeding season. " Whilst with us, the Pintail is found in comj)any with the Baldpate or American Widgeon, the Blue-Winged Teal, and the Mallard ; more frequently on ponds than on streams ; although it sometimes resorts to the latter, when their shores are over- hung with beech-trees, loaded with their nutritious fruits, of which this species is extremely fond, and in search of which they even raml)le a short distance into the woods. Were this Duck to feed entirely on beech mast, I have no doubt that its flesli would be excellent. It feeds on tadpoles in spring, on leeches in autumn ; while, during the winter, a dead mouse, should it come in its way, is swallowed with as much aviility as by a Mallard. To these articles of food it adds insects of all kinds ; and, in fact, is by no means an uiexpert fly-catcher. " The Pintails are less shy in the Western country than most species of their family ; ami in this respect ihey resendile the Blue-Winged Teals ; which, in fact, might be called stupid birds, with as much propriety as many others. They swim rather dce])ly, keep close together, and raise the hind part of the body 132 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS : iS ill '. like the Mallards. On the water, on land, or on the Aving, se- veral may generally be killed at a shot. They are scarcely noc- turnal, but rest much in the middle of the day ; basking in the sunshine Avhilst on the water, whenever they can indulge in this luxury. " The flight of the Pintails is very rapid, greatly protracted, and almost noiseless. They remain at night in the ponds where they feed ; and continue there generally, unless much disturbed. On such occasions they keep in the middle of the water, to avoid their land enemies. In the Middle States they are highly esteemed for the table. There the}' arrive later, and retire sooner toward th^ir breeding ])laces, than in the country west of the Alleghany Mountains.'" — Au(lubon''s Buds of America This spci'ies, like the last, is seldom found, in the noi'thern part of the ^Middle and Eastern States, in such large llocks, as it would appear to use in ihe West. It is often found soli- tary ; and very seldom, in my own experience, are more tivan tliree or four to be found in company. I entertain some suspicion that the Pintail Duck occasionally breeds in New Jersey and in New York. In the former State, on one occasion, I shot an adult female bird, in full j)lumage, as late as the twelfth of May. She rose, before a dead point from an old setter, out of a thick tuft of alders on a large marsh mea- dow. I could find no traces of a nest, but can conceive no object but that of nidification which should have induced the bird to seek such a haunt. I have several times shot these birds during spring Snipe-shooting, so late as the end of April. TiiR Amf.r[can Widoeox, Alios Amencana, is occasionally found on fresh waters, especially to the westward of the Ohio ; but rarely frequents rivers, except on their estuaries and sand- bars, where it associates more with the Ftillgulce, or Sea Ducks, than with its immediate congeners. It is found on the Chesa- peake with the Canvass-back, and is known as the " Bald- pate." UPLAND SHOOTING. 133 The Shovkller, Anas Clypeata, is rare in the United States ; though they are found in Louisiana, Florida, and the Carolinas, in winter ; but are abundant on the streams of the Roclcy Mountains and in Texas. The Gadwall, Alias Strcpera, is also found, though rarely, along the maritinte districts of the States. In the interior, espe- cially on the tributaries of the Ohio, Missouri, and Mississippi, it i.s said to abound. It is of solitary habits, rarely congregating in large bodies, and is therefore not g'jnerally known in the United Stales. Of the Sea Ducks, the Goluen-Eve, FuVkjuUi Clamjnla, and t-he Buffkl-IIead, j.u(li(jnlu Albeoki, hettei' known as the " Whistler," and the " Butter-Ball," are at times found on the fresh waters of the interior, but not in suflicient numbers to ren- der it necessary to do more than name them, as it would be a most liberal courtesy wdiich should extend to tnem the style of Upland game, which may be held to be completed with the Duck last described. The list thus concluded, the nomenclature established on fixed grounds, and the general liabits and territorial limits of every kind of Ujjland game being tbus laid before the reader, I shall proceed to treat, each in its several place and season, of the Upland shooting of the Eastern and ^Middle United States, and the Provinces, in all its various kinds and phases ; touching upon each according to the date of its connnencement in the natural year.* ( * Since writing the above page, I ascertained, during two journeys througli Canada, one along the northern shore of Lake Huron so far as to the Sault St. Marie, first, that " Widgeon " are exceedingly abundant on the rivers and i ice lakes of that region. And secondly, that or Lake Champlain and on the St. Lawrence, about Troscott, the Goi-dkn Eyk is the most numerous Duck, and tliat wliich afifords most sport on those waters. For tiic description of an excellent Duck, which I found very abundant on tlie upper hikes, nnd which 1 ijelieve to be a nondescript, though tiie point is not quite decided, see Vol. II, \ppendix F. 134 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. THE UPLAND SHOOTING OF THE i^il,'* EASTERN AND MIDDLE STATES, AND OF THE BRITISH PROVINCES. '■'!- I PLAND SHOOTING, which, with the interval of about three months in ordinary seasons, may- be enjoyed in some form or other during the whole year, in the Eastern and Middle States, may be divided with propriety into four dilierent heads, commencing with the opening of spring, and terminating only Avith the termi- nation of the year. These heads are " Spring Snipe Shooting ;" " Summer Cock Shooting;" " Ujjland Plover Shooting;" and " Autumn Shoot- ing," which might be called "general shooting," inasmuch as in the course of a good day's sport, it is by no means unusual to bring to bag almost every variety of game which I have enume- rated above, the Grouse and the Northern Hare alone excepted. A separate head must be given to Grouse shooting, — by a\ hich I mean Pinnated Grouse; since they are so nearly extinct in those districts in which alone Upland Shooting is practised sci- entii'ically and as a sport, that they are rarely, I might say never met with, by those in pursuit of other game. It will be observed that I am now speaking of Upland shoot- ing, as it w; both established by law, and habitually practised m^ m UPLAND SKOuTING. 135 in those of the Slates in which only game is generally ^notected by statute J nut as I think it should be. For it is my settled opi- nion that Sp'-ing Snipe shooting and Summer Cock shooting are both abominations ; and that both humanity and policy forbid tlie slaughter of these birds of passage, until they have finished rear- ing their young, and until those young have attained their full growth. On this topic I shall enlarge hereafter, under the head of " Game Preservation ;" though I have but slight hopes that any steps will be taken, which can avail to preserve all the winged game of America from speedy extermination. In lil-• I I if 140 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. it is very possible that a stranger, coming from a distance to shoot will find the meadows which were yesterday alive witii Snipe, entirely deserted, and vice versa. Still there are signs and tokens both of the weather and of the animal creation — temperatures of the former and coincidences of the latter — by which the observant sportsman may come at con- clusions, even at a distance from his ground, and seldom errone- ously, concerning the arrival and sojourn of Snipe. And again, the birds have habits and haunts, during various aspects and sudden changes of weather, a thorough knowledge of which Avill enable one sportsman to fill his bag, while another on the same ground shall make up his mind in desjiair, that there are no Snipe on the meadows. There is no bird whose habits I have studied more closely than those of the Snipe, more especially during his vernal visit to our part of the country, for which my residence, nearly adjoining the very finest Snipe-ground, as I believe it even yet to be, in the world, has given me great facilities ; and I have it in my power to point out one or two peculiarities — tending, by the way, more com- pletely to distinguish it from the European species — which have escaped the observation of our great American naturalists, Wilson and Audubon. I have, moreover, shot them from Delaware southward, to Quebec, in the north; and from the Niagara River to the coun- try about the Penobscot ; so that I have not been without oppor tunity of becoming acquainted in some degree with their habits, throughout the whole geographical area of their spring and autumn migration ; and here I would state, though with much deference, as becomes one diUcring from so high an authority, that ncilher in this nor in any other of our migratory birds of Gtinie is there so much ditTcrence with regard to the time of their arrival and departure within the limits I have named, as Mr. Audubon would make. That eloquent writer and accurate observer, states the arrival of this bird to be a month later, varying with the season, in Maine than in Pennsylvania; and ten days later yet in Nova UPLAND SHOOTING, 141 Scotia Now I am satisfied that, unless -wlien the winter is ex- tremely short and spring unusually warm and early to the West- ward, this discrepancy is greatly overrated. The average commencement of Snipe-shooting, even in Dela- ware, is not earlier, I am convinced, than the fust of April ; and, except in uncommonly early seasons, they appear ahnnst simulta- neously in New Jersey and New York. Early in April, I have shot these hirds in ahundance close to the Falls of Ni.agara ; early in April I have shot them in Maine ; and at the end of that same month, I liave shot them on the upland pastures around Queliec. On average seasons, that is to say seasons in which the s[)ring is everywhere late and backward, I have found by my own ob- servation, that the arrival both of the Woodcock and of the Snipe is nearly simultaneous, from Pennsylvania to Maine, and 1 believe on enquiry such will prove to be the case. This is, however, except as a matter of curiosity, tending to throw light on the breeding seasons of our bird in various places, and so to enable us to legislate with most advantage for his pre- sentation, a matter of small importance ; for, from the moment of his arrival iu each several locality, until that of his departure, he is incessantly persecuted and pursued ; and, as the causes of his arrival are the same in all places, so will, I apprehend, be the signs of his coming also. The next observation that I would make in this place, is to guard the sportsman, in the United States and Catiada, from placing the slightest reliance on the maxims, advice or opinions promulgated, even iu the best sporting books published in Eng- land, concerning the Snipe, or its conjreTicr the Woodcock. The birds are in every respect different from the European species, as to their habits, haunts and seasons ; and one point of difference alone is sufficient to render all that is laid down with regard to the manner of hunting them there, entirely useless here. There they are winter, here more or less summed', birds of passage; so that the localities which they frequent in the two hemispheres are of course nearly opposite. Not an English book but will tell you, and tell you tmly, as i 1 142 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. regards the English Snipe, that the most favorable weather for llio sj)ort is (lark, blowing, drizzling days — the very worst con- reival)le for our bird ; which is apt to be as wild as a Hawk in windy weather, while it will sometimes lie till it is diflirult to kick it lip, on bright, warm, sunny days, with the wind southerly. But of this anon. In the first place, observe, as regards the arrival of Snipe on the meadows, that it matters not how fair and mild and waiTn the weather may be, or may have been for many days, overhead, not a bird will be found until the subterranean frost and ice have been entirely dissij)ated ; which is rarely the case until after a three days' storm of rain, with a stiff easterly blow, succeeded by soft, spring-like weather. It must here be remarked that, in morasses and bog meadows, whether fresh or salt, the underground frost lasts much longer unthawed than it does on the ujjlands. In one instance, I re- member findincT all the meadows as hard as ice below some six inches of soft mud, when the frost had disappeared for many days on the uplands, and when the progress of spring was evident in the bursting buds and springing grass. Of course not a bird was to be found. The first of the winged harbingers of spring is the beautiful little Blue-Bird ; and so soon as he has taken up his residence with us, and commenced cleaning out his accustomed box, or pre- paring materials for his nest in the hole of a decayed apple-tree, we may be sure that the Snipe is not far distant. When the buds of the willow trees display their yellowish verdure, and the chirping croak of the frogs rises ti'om every swampy pond, we may feel confident that he is to be found on the meadows ; but not until the Shad is abundant at the mouths of our rivers, is the Snipe plentiful on the inland morasses. On his first an'ival, he generally hangs for two or three days in small vvhisj)s, or, oftener yet, scattered individually, along the salt nwadows on the coast, especially in places where fresh springs boil up from the ground, or spring-brooks trickle down from the upland. I r TTPLAND SHOOTING. 143 At such times, a few straggling birds may be picked up on the south side of Long Tshind, where llie trout-streams, below the pond-dams, overflow the salt meadows, before a solitary Snipe has appeared iidand. Then the salt marshes about the mouths of the Raritan, the Hackensac, and the Passaic, attract them in turn for a few days ; after which they gradually ascend the courses of those streams to the great tracts of morass and bog-meadow, which are spread out for leagues, the very Para- dise of the Snipe-shooter, especially about the last-named river. Here, if the weather is favorable and settled, they remain for many weeks ; and may be pursued with much success and sport, by the skilful sportsman, whatever may be the nature of the day, unless it has been preceded by a very sharp frost. Tlie most favorable time is, undoubtedly, the first fine warm day after a long, easterly rain-storm ; and, so thoroughly am I convinced of this fact, that for many seasons, while resident in New York, it was my habit to order my horses, and set out on the third day of a north-eastern storm, if the sky showed the slightest prospect of clearing, before the rain had* in the least abated. It has more than once happened to me, thus setting off late in the evening, Avhile it was yet raining, to see the sky gra- dually clear up, and to hear the shrill squeak of the Snipe travel- ling overhead faster than myself, though in the same direction, before reaching my shooting-ground, scarce twenty miles distant ; and I have been amply rewarded for my trouble by an excellent and undisturbed day's sport, over meadows well stocked with birds, and as yet virgin of gunners. In such cases, it will often, however, happen that the weather on the one or more days Avhich can be spared for shooting, proves wikl, windy and unfavorable ; yet the sportsman who has trav- elled from a distance must take it as he finds it — if he reside on the spot he can, and of course will, pick his own days ; which, it he be wise, will be those soft, moist, silvery mornings, which so often follow slight hoar-frosts, when the heaven is covered with the thinnest filmy haze, through which the sunbeams are poured down warm but mellow, and when there is just enough of low VOL. I. 12 ■l . I i ' ■ V 144 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. soutlierlv wind abroad to dry the lierbajre and to jrive the dons a chance of scciUing their game. As tlie straniTor cannot thus choose, it is most ini[)ort:int that he should know how to make the best of bad circumstances ; for even in the worst weather, if there be birds at all upon his range, knowing his ground and the habits of his bird, he will be able, nine times out often, to make a fair day's work. I once shot three successive days over the Long Meadow, Lewises, the Troy and Parsippany Meadows, from Pine Brook, with a friend, in the ve-.y worst weather I ever saw for Snipe- shooting — dry, keen, cutting north-easters, Avith the dust flying one half hour, and the sun shining clear but cold, and hailstones pelting down the next. The birds were, of course, as wild as can be imagined ; drumming high up in the air, and performing all kinds of unusual antics ; yet, by dint of good dogs, desperate fagging, and a perfect knowledge of our ground, we picked up sixty-two couj)le of Snipe, besides a few Duck, in the course of three days. No great work, it is true, nor much to boast of ; but, mark me now — during those same three days, two other gentlemen, as good shots as ourselves, perhaps better, beat the same meadows, put- ting up at the rival tavern, and hunting so exactly the same line of country Avith ourselves, that we met and conversed with them more than once each day. These gentlemen bagged, in all, eleven Snipe and a Sandpiper ; and that for the simplest reason imaginable — they did not know where to look for Snipe in wild weather, while we did. It is, of course, unnecessary to tell any person acquainted with the fu'st elements of Shooting, that the Snipe feeds, not on suc- tion, but on small worms and other insects, which he collects by boring in moist earth with his long sensitive bill. His favorite feeding-grounds are, therefore, soft, sloppy tracts, where tlie soil is rich vegetable loam, or bog-earth, interspersed with springs, and sparsely covered with low, succulent grasses ; — earth, from the surface of which the waters have recently subsided, and on which a muddy, rust-colored scum has been deposited, on their UPLAND SHOOTING. 140 subsidence or evaporation, abounds witb food of the kind they most relish ; and in such {)laces they are often seen to feed. But in such, as the ground is either bare or but sparsely covered, they will rarely lie, so as to aiford sport, until late in the season, when the young grass has acquired some height — when the sun has gained power, and repose and epicurean habits have rendered the Snipe tame and lazy. If, however, we can find ground such as I have described, inter- spersed with tussocky bogs and tufts of long grass, aflording sheller to the birds, into which tliey will run, and among w liicb they will skulk in ordinary weather, so soon as they discover the ap- proach of intruders, the chance of sport will be very considerable. In cold, dry winds, however, the birds will not even fced^ much less lie to the dog, on such ground ; and consequently we must in such weather look for them in very diflerent places ; places, indeed, in which no books of natural history, that I know, would lead us to seek them, and in some of which the authori- ties tell us they are never to be found. But, to proceed in order ; the Snipe when flushed never rises down wind, the resistance of the air appearing to be necessary to enable him to get under way. On his first rising, which he does for the most part about breast-high, he hangs on the air a little, before he gathers wing, and then darts away up wind, if possible, if not, across wind, tack and tack, with extreme rapi'bty, and with a zig-zag flight, which renders them puzzling objoc is to a beginner. I think, however, that to a person accustomed to their motions, they are as easy a bird to kill as any that flies. Mr. Audubon states, in allusion to this supposed dilficulty of killing Snipe, that he who can kill thirty in succession, without missing one, is a good hand at any kind of shooting. I suppose Mr. Audubon is speaking ironically ; for if by can kill, he means habitually, or even frequently kills, he speaks of an impossibility. No man ever lived who could kill, in that sense, either thirty Snipe, or thirty of any other bird that flies, in succession. I have seen many crack shots in my life, both here and in Eng- land ; but I never saw the man, and never expect to see him, f ! II !. 146 FRANK FOKESTER S FIELD SPORTS. H 1! ■:■! s il'^ I who, shooting at every bird that rises in distance, can kill four out of five under the most favorable circumstances, day in and day out. lie who bags three out of five, in covert and out of covert, from March Snipe to December Quail, is a top-sawyer ; and can hold his own anywhere, and against any one. Some men may perhaps kill twenty shots in succession, picked out of fifty birds which ought to have been shot at ; but my word for it, they will get easily beaten i)y the man who pretends to no such feat, but who pulls his trigger, whenever there is a chance of killing. The real test of shooting, no less than of .sportsmanship, is the finding and bao;(;in<; the greatest number of birds within a given time, without the smallest reference to the number of shots fired. The surest of all ways to ensure the never becoming a good shot, is to be afraid of missing. Shoot at everything that rises within distance, remembering always, as an old Yorkshire game- keeper, by whose side I bagged my first Snipe some eight-and- twenty years ago, was wont to admonish me, that t' Snaipe was i' t' maist danger. If you miss, say with Jacob Faithful, " bet- ter luck next time," and endeavor to observe and remember how and why you missed him ; whether you shot above, below, or to the right or left of him ; this will give you steadiness and cool- ness at first ; and, when you succeed in remembering, will have done much already toward preventing you from missing fair shots at least. For the rest, birds will dodge, at times, just when the trigger is drawn ; boughs will be in the way ; the sun will shine in the face of the best shots — moreover, the steadiest nerves will sometimes be shaken or unstrung, and the quickest finger will be a thumb on some days to the best sportsman. I know a right good shot, and a good sportsman too, and a good friend of mine to boot, who doe.-« not pretend to kill quite three out of five, year in and year out ; but who is wont to say, which is very wTong of him, though I believe perfectly true, that he'll be d — d if he can't beat any man, who can kill twenty shots in succession. So much for thine encouragement, my young beginner UPLAND SHOOTING. 147 Good shots have killed twenty shots in succession ; perhajjs more, even in thick covert ; but that is a very dillerent tiiini; from saying can kill thenj. That, I am satisfied no man ever did, nor ever will do. This, though applicahle especially to Snipe, is true of all sorts of Game. Afler the observation, which has led me to this litllo digression, jNIr Audubon remarks that he has fuund the best moment for pulling the trigger on a Snipe, to be that in which he utters his peculiar shrill squeak ; and in this I perfectly agree with him ; for the Snipe utters that cry as he rises, and before he gathers way ; and I am convinced that the most killing way to shoot this bird, is to shoot at him during the instantaneous point of time in which he hangs on the wind — that is to say, to puQ the trigger the very instant the butt of your gun touches your shoulder. The old school method was to wait till the bird had done twisting, and was at some forty ynnh distance; but all that stuff, like taking a pinch of snuff after a bird rises and before raising the gun, was well enough for the days of long, single- barrelled guns with flint locks. A good shot of the prfscnt day would knock over liis do/cn couple of right and left shots — not in succession, gentle reader — while one of those slow coaches was painfully picking up his half dozen. Ccetcris prt//Z»«A', the quickest shot is the best shot. Another maxim of the same age and the same school is, that the best dog over which to shoot Snipe is an old broken-down, slow Pointer — perhaps he is for a pot-hunter ! Indeed, I be- lieve, nine times out of ten, as many birds, pcrliiips more, could be bagged without a dog at all ; or with a Newfoundland or Water Spaniel, kept entirely at heel, and only usi-d to retrieve the dead or cripples ; but where would be the sport of such slow gunning ? The best dogs for Snipe are the best dogs that can be got for money — the bravest, fastest, most industrious, and best broken — Setters, for my use, seeing that I prefer them for all purposes ; but Pointers, if you will. i !■ i h 148 FRANK forester's FIEI-D SPORTS. If thoy 1)C staunch, and have rrood nosos, and hack well, and droll to shot, wliere tlicy aiv, without stirring from thi; spot, and witliont hcinj; shoutc^d at, they cannot bo too fust ; and, if they will not do these thiii'jrs, it matters not "'hether tliey be fast or blow — they aie worthU'SS. Th»^ most elfective-si/ed shot for .Snipe shooting is uufiuestion- alily Xo. 8. With coarsrn- sliot, tlie diarge will be so much dispi-rsed that so small a bird as the iSnipe will constantly escape being hit, even when covcmchI fairly ; with smaller, birds will continually be wounded only, within point blank distance ; and will frequently go away entirely uidiarmed. Faither than this, it is very rare to find a lever-topped belt OT flask — which is by far the best implement for carrying shot — tlint will not suffer any shot smaller than No. 8 to escape, even when th(^ spring is down. Many llnirlish writiMs, I observe, recommend the use of two different si/»>d kind of shot, one in either barrel; but this is, in my opinion, neither sportsmanlike nor effecuve. In all events, the barrels of a gun ought to be fired alternately; otherwise, as five single shots arc fired fi)r one double, one barrel will be worn out while the other is, comjiaratively sjjeaking, new. My own experience has taught me tluit for all ourT^pland shooting, except that of the Pimiated fJrouse, at all seasons of the year, No. 8 is the most effective shot. It will break the pinicm of a Rufled (irouse at fifty yards, and that is all that can be desired; and when fired from a close-shooting gun, properly brought to bear, will riddle its tai'jjet thoroucrhlv at the same distance. All that is gained in weight and poAver by the use of larger shot, is lost in the condensation of a charge. This will be easily under- stood when the reader is infi)rmed that an ounce of No. 8 shot contains six hundred grains, or pellets, while No. 7 contains but three hundred and forty-one ; so that at the same distance with the same gun, the chances are nearly as two to one in favor of hitting a small mark with No. 8 over the larger shot; the greater Hie distance, the greate'* the advantage in this res])ect of the smaller pellets ; inasmuch as all shot are propelled on di^ gr. UPLAND SHOOTING. H9 diverging lines; and consequently, the longer the range the greater will he the interval het\vi;en the grains. \\ hen hirds are very wild, however, I strongly reconnnend the use of'Kley's wire cartridges, of the same No. 8 shot, which I consider an invention in gvmnery second only to percussion I will state here hrielly, for the benefit of thf)se who have not seen this missile, that the object of the contrivance is to propel the charge, like a single ball, for some fifleen or more yards from the gun's muzzle. After this distance the cas(! bursts, and the shot diverges as in an ordinary charge. Tlu; gain, there- fore, in distance, is precisely that to which the case is driven unbroken. This dlilers in the three different kinds of cart- ridges, blue, red, and green. The last of these must never be used, except in fowl-shooting on the bays, as the range is pro- digious, and on Upland dangerous. The hluc, which is tho common kind, will increase the range of tjvery gun, in close- ness as in strength, from fifteen to twenty yards; and the red from twenty to forty. The more heavily you charge with powder, the vwrc doseli/ will the cartridge carry ; the converse of this proposition beinsr true of loose shot. It is useless, however, fm- any ])erson to use Eley's cartridge, who is not cixd enough to let a bird, which gets up under Ids feet, go away twenty yards before firing at him ; and who cannot shoot well enough to kill at forty, with an exceedingly close carrying gun. I have shot Sni})e, when very wild, and Quail in open ground, very late in the season, with blue cart- ridges in my first, and red in my second barrel, and that with great success. I woidd, however, prefer the use of loose shot and a blue cartridge. With regard to dress, it may be well hei'e to say a ^vord or two ; for Sni})e shooting is a difficult and dirty business, as far as the walking is concerned, and requires an athletic frame, and a hardy constitution. For my own pait, I have never found any contrivance succeed in keeping the feet dry ; for a single fall, or heavy splash, things of common occurrence, will fill the tops of the longest and most secure water-proof boots; 150 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. il r:. Il"i if Indian rubber is an abomination ; as, if it excludes water, it also ex* ludes air, prevents ventilation, and enclosing all the exudations and transpirations of the pores, is equally uncom- fortable, unwholesome, and filthy. The moment boots are full of water, they are a dead weight, and of course a disadvan- tage ; I have, therefore, in all ordinary ground, long abandoned the attempt to keep dry ; and invariably use laced ancle boots of heavy cowhide, fn- all sorts of sporting. Those may be worn either with short gaiters and trousers ; or, what I consider in every particulai- superior, and especially in the facility they give to movement in encumbered ground, or among brushwood and stumps, knee-breeches, and leathern leggins, buttoned on the outside. The breeches may be made of corduroy or fus- tian for spring and winter, of duck or drilling for summer shooting ; and, if made long and loose from the hip to the knee, I belii'vo no walker who has once adopted them in this climate will ever return to heavy boots and trousers. If, however, the Snipe-shooter is determined on endeavoring to keep himself dry, he had better provide himself with long boots from Canada, which he can procure, perfectly water- proof and of excellent quality, of any maker in Montreal or Quebec, for eight dollars a pair ; whereas the same, not equal- ly well-made, would cost him double the price, in New- York I will here, farther state, that Mr. Cullen, No. 119 Broad- way, New-York, is the only workman on this side the Atlantic, whom I know, that can turn out a real-working-shooting-boot or shoe. If you adopt my plan, reader mine, you must make up your mind to get wet through in five minutes after going out, and to continue wet through, until your return home at night ; but be- lieve me, as in many other cases, ce ii'est que Ic premier pas qui coute, the first shock is all that you have to dread ; the water within the shoe immediately becomes warm, by contact with the foot, and you think no more about it, after five minutes ; while in a long day's fag the absence of the heavy, dragging UPLAND SHOOTING. 151 water-logged jack-boots will make a tlifference in favor of your comforts, tliat words can hardly describe. About a shooting-jacket, 1 have only to say that it cannot he too easy, or have too many pockets. For material, every man has liis own fancy ; I prefer strong corduroy for winter, and drilling or Russia duck for summer. Game-pockets filling tlie whole inside of both skirts will be found to carry a large bag with much less exertion to the sportsman, than the ordinary game-bag. A low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat is as good for open shoot- ing as any other head gear ; but for covert work, a close skull- cap, with a long peak, is the thing. The best preparation for keeping boots, or leathern leggins, soft, is currier^ s tluhhiiig, which can be procured of any tanner. The best water dressing»is equal parts of tar, tallow, and Venice turpentine, melted together in an earthen pi])kin, and brushed slowly and gradually into the leather, before a slow fire, with a painter's sash-tool. This should be repeated every time the boots are used ; and it is well to observe that sun-heat is far su perior to fire-heat for the drying of icct boots ; and that it is scarcely possible to dry saturated leather too slowly. These short memoranda, with regard to dress, will do once for all ; they are equally applicable to all seasons and sports, and I am not aware that anything more of real advantage could be said in a volume on this .subject Now fully e{]ui})ped with all things necessary for our sport, we will take the field ; and supposing the morning to be fiivor able, with a light breeze from the south-westward, thesky sunny, yet shadowed by floating clouds, the herbage underfoot ^^'^i but the soil moist and succulent, we may make sure of sport. In the first place we will begin to beat, and persist m beating our ground doion-uufid, even if we have to make a large and te dious circuit in order to do so. The advantage of this, arising fi'om the habit of the Snipe, before mentioned, oi rising invaria- Jthj up-icind, is that the wild birds will be compelled to cross us I: h m i :!; li \l i, 1 1 ■ i. '.I 162 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. to the right or left, affording much closer and easier sliots, than if we hunt them in the ordinary manner. T am aware that there is an objection to this, in the fact that the dogs in some degree lose the favor of the wind ; but dogs, properly broken to this sport, should quarter their ground regu- larly bcH^re you, working with their noses up-wind, and cross- ing and recrossing at every forty or fifty yards, and will find no difiiculty in pointing such birds as will lie to them. It is wonderful how easily dogs, which are always shot over by the same man — he being one who knows his business — will learn to cross and requaiter their ground, turning to the slight- est whistle, and following the least gesture of the hand. I liave seen old dogs turn their heads to catch their master's eye, if they thought the whistle too long deferred ; and I lately lost an old red Irish setter, which had been stone-deaf for his two last seasons, but which I found no more difficulty in turning than any other dog, so accurately did he know when to look for the signal. When a dog has once learned that it is by his master's will, und not by his own, that he is to beat his ground, it is extraor- dinary how eagerly he will consult, and how readily he will soon come to perceive, his pleasure. I have repeatedly tested the two modes of shooting Snipe, up and down wind ; and that with dogs of all kinds and conditions, and I have no hesitation in declaring my conviction, that by work- ing down-iohid, especially in very wild and very windy weather, when birds lie the worst, one-third more shots may be got, and doul)lo the number of birds killed, than by giving your dogs, as it is called, the wind in their noses. In the latter mode, it is true, you will hnve your dogs continually drawing, and perhaps pointing, and will have the satisfaction of hearing the " scaipe, scaipe" of bird after bird, as he rises out of distance, and of seeing him zig-zagging it away up-wind, at a rate which seta even your blue cartridge at defiance. Beating down-wind, on the contrary, the birds, headed by yourself and your dog, arc likely enough to got confused and UPLAND SHOOTING. 153 bothered, 156 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. v/^hicli it has fallen ; and I have found it a good phin, on step- ping up after loading to look for your game, to drop your hat, or liamlkerchief, on that wliich you ooncoive to he the exact spot ; (otherwise, while looking round among the gi*ass, it is not uncommon to lose the direction altogether. In covert shooting, m marking a bird, whether shot at or not, which flies behind a Drake, impervious to the sight, cast your eye quickly forward to the next opening, a little above the line of the bird's flight, if lie is rising, or below, if dropping on the wing, to make sure that he does not pass it. If a killed bird is hidden from you by the smoke of your own fire, and you perceive by the stream of fea- thers that he is dead, allow a little for the speed and direction of his flight, which, if he was going fast when struck, will often thx'ow him many feet forward of the spot where the shot smote him. Thy shot itself, if close by and hard hit, will at times pitch him a yard or two out of his course. A Snipe will sometimes, but not generally, carry away a good many shot ; but when he does so, if marked down, he almost in- vaiiably rises again. Neither he nor his congener, the Wood- cock, is in the habit — so common with the Quail, and sometimes with the Ruffed Grouse — of flying away with his death-wound and dying before he falls. A Quail or Grouse, shot through the heart, or through the brain, will constantly toiver, as it is termed, directly up into the mid-air, with a perpendicular fllghr, and quick beating of the wings, which ai'e kept up till he vital spark leaves the bird literally in the air, when it turns over on its back, and falls like a stone. In windy weather many Quail are lost thus, drifting out of reach ; but I never saw this occur with a Woodcock, and never but once with a Snipe, which then only flirted up a few feet, with an expiring effort. When, therefore, a Snipe goes away hard hit, mark him care- fully, and approach the spot stealthily, — it is all a toss-up whe- ther he lies like a stone, or whirls up at sixty paces, when he hears you coming. But however liard he may lie, never relax your watchfulness, or put your gun under your arm, or over your shoulder, till lies is bagged, I have seen a crippled bird UPLAND SHOOTING. 157 ..> marketl to a square yard, get away, owing to th'e conviction of the pursuers that he was dead, after the ground had heen beaten to and fro by a brace of capital dogs, and trampled all over by as many men ; and I should like to know what can be more j)ro- voking than such a consummation. For Snipe shooting, the most effective party that I can con- ceive, will consist of two men, jirovided that they are suffuiently well acquainted each with the other's style of shooting and hunt- ing dogs, to work well together, — and two dogs, both belonging to and hunted by one man. In this case the sportsniiin c;in hunt theii- dogs alternate days, he whose turn it is vot to liunt carefully abstaining from uttering a word, or making a gesture to the dogs. This, of course, can l)e only done by two old sportsmen, who know each the other's style of sjiorting, and will consent to give and take mutually something. The advantage gained is this, that a brace of dogs, used to one another, knowing one another's ways, and accustomed to work and lire together, will do twice as mucJi, and five times as good work, as a pair of strangers, jealous, and very likely broken in to different styles of action. No two men hunt their dogs precisely alike, — and, conse- quently, no two strange dogs, hunted by two different strange men, can or will work hamioniously together. If each man in- sists on hunting his own dog each day, the men will have bet- ter sport by hunting singly. But, in my opinion, one man wants a brace of dogs in the field, — and yet a brace of dogs are enough for two men. When the number exceeds two Q-uns, for Snipe shooting, by fir the better way is to divide into two parties, beating, if you please, in sight each of the other, and so driving the birds backward and forward, — but rujt sufficiently near to allow the dogs to mix, or become jealous. The difficulty of getting dogs accustomed to different styles of sporting, to work well together, will be evident at once, if we consider that one sportsman trains his dog to drop to shot, where he is when the shot is fired ; another, to come in before \s ; ■\ : (■ !' 158 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. charging ; that one insists on liis dog pointing his dead birds before fetching them ; another suffers his to go on and fetch as soon as he has loaded ; and yet a third takes no heed at all, hut suffers his brute to rush in as soon as the gun is discharged. The hist is, of course, a barbarism, to which no one worll)y of being called a sportsman will resoit ; the others are still hi'ld to be mooted points ; and tliere are sportsmen who hold to both. I do not myself admit any doubt on the subject ; nor do I esteem any dog broken, which does not drop to charge, at the report, without stirring from the place, — which does not lie at charge, until ordered to " hold up," and which docs not point his dead game, until desired to " fetch." Still, so long as diversity of 02:)inion exists on these points, and dogs are broken according to the good or bad judgment of owners and breakers, difllerent animals cannot be expected to hunt harmoniously together ; and so unfortunate is the propensity both of men and beasts to learn evil more easily than good knowledge, that two or three days' companionship with a rash, headstrong, rushing brute, will, it is likely, play the very deuce with your carefully broken dogs, and cause them to contract tricks, which it will cost you much pains and trouble to eradicate. It is so very common an occurrence, while in pursuit of spring Snipe, to find different kinds of Wild Duck, particularly the two varieties of Teal, the "Wood Duck, the Mallard, and the Pintail, that it is well worth the while to carry a few red car- tridr ; and thoiiirli it will liardlybo Ix-licvcd, I took tin; little lh'dts overrun with vines, creepers, and cat-briars, to which the densest cop- pice or covert I ever have seen in England, was open-work, and that too, when every tree, plant and shrub is covered with its most luxuriant summer foliage, it is evident that a dog cannot be visible half the time at a distance of ten paces ; and that it is only liy his keeping in constant inotion to and fro, close before us, that we can in the least make out his where- about. As it is, with the best broke dogs, it is a common thing to lose them altogether, though perhaps but fifteen yards off, when pointing steadily, and to be comjielled either to call them off, or to waste half the day in looking for them. Another great difficulty in summer Cock-shooting, over Stutters, is this, that when the bird is pointed, as he almost universally is, from the outside of a brake inward, it is almost impossible to get a fair shot at him, unless you do so unsports- manlike a thing as to hie your dog on, and make him flush his own bird. This cannot be done with impunity for any length of time, even with the best and steadiest dogs; for when once hey have become used to this irregular mode of proceeding, although they may stand stock still, and shew as staunchly as possible, under their master's eye, until desired to "hie on!" no sooner will they find themselves pointing out of sight, than tliey will follow what is surely the bent of their natural instinct, If" i, ■>t 182 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. kept down by painful instruction, and will dash in and flush their game. When shooting in company, as one always should do, if pos- sible, esjiecially in July, I have always made it a point, when the dogs were standing, so as to render it likely that the shot would be a ticklish one, to call up my comrade, — bii-ds lie hard in summer, and a word or two, more or less, will not Hush them, — to place him in the most commanding position, and tlien phuigo into the brake, taking my chance for a snap shot, and up with the bird myself. Having always kept dogs, and having shot principally with friends who did not, it has always been my luck to have the gamekeeper's work, and to be forced to drive through the thick of the tangle, while the others could pick their way along the (outskirts, and get open shots. Somehow or other, however, I have generally managed to get about as many shots, and perhaps to bag about as many birds as my neighbors ; and, in process of time, I have got into the way of liking the rough- and-tumble inside-of-the-covert work. You see more of the dogs' working, and get more, if harder, shots ; and, above all, you acquire what is the knack of covert-shooting, the knack of tossing up your gun instinctively to your shoulder, and stopping your biid in the most tangled thicket, without knowing how you shot him, or whether you saw him at all when you fired, the in- stant you hear a flap of his wing. Even when alone, I invariably flush my own bird, never order- ing my dog to go on, even at the risk of losin-g a shot ; though the chances are, that you can generally mark the bird down to lerably well. In this matter I never vary, and I do most strenu- ously urge it upon all sportsmen, who would have good dogs, and good sport, to neglect and sacrifice all individual shots, all individual, crippled, or killed birds, rather than do a wrong thing themselves before their dogs, or allow them to do a wrong thing uncorrected. By running in to catch one wing-tipped bird, racing away from your dogs, or by encouraging them to run in and fetch, before you have loaded, you will lose, in all probability, fifty 'I f n UPLAND SHOOTING. 183 birfls, — by your setter getting into the way of clashing into the midst of scattered bevies, and flushing them all, one by one, while you are standing with your unloaded gun in your hand, roaring down-charge, and uttering, if you are a little quick- tempered, all sorts of imprecations against your poor dog, which, if at all just, you would fulminate against yourself No thing is more annoying to me, than to be jnined by some coun- try gunner in the fie hi, who, utterly unconscious of wrong, per- sists in doing things which make your own hair stiind on end. and compels you to flog the unhappy quadrupeds fox the faults of the stupid biped. While speakinf^ '>" «-bis subject, I will quote an obsenation which I met with the other lay, in a capital book, by a right good sportsman, entitled — the book, not the man — " The Moor and the Loch." Th*^ truth and force of the remark struck me the moment I read it ; and, although it is not new to the accorn plished sportsman, or old dog-breaker, I think I have never seen it in print befjre ; and I am sure I have seen the fault it repre- hends committed a hundred times. The writer is speaking of " the inveterate habit, contracted through bad breaking, of running in when the bird drops. This trick is acquired from the breaker's carelessness, in not ahcays making the dog fall down when birds rise, a rule which should never be neglected, on any pretence." Mr. Colquhoun here means, that the dog should be taught to charge, on the bird ris- ing, whether shot at, o>- not ; and unquestionably he is right in the matter. " Tlie steadiness of a dog'' he proceeds, "•whether old or noinig, depends entirchj tipon its being rigidly observed. I have se(!u dogs most unmercifully flogged, and yet bolt with the same eagerness every shot. It is easy to see the reason ; the dog was followed by the keeper endeavoring to make him ' down' ; there was thus a race between them, which should first reach the fallen bird. The plan to adopt with a dog of this de- scription, is when the Grouse," or other game, " drops, and the dog rush.e3 forward, never to stir, — coolly allow him to tear away at the game until you have loaded ; by which time he ^'1,• i I' i r~ 184 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. <, will most probably have become ashamed of himself. You will then walk up most deliberately, and without noticing the bird, take the dog by the ear, and pull him back tvj where you fired» all the time giving him hearty shakes" — /should say, cuts with the whip, — " and crying ' down,' when you get to the sj)ot wliei'e you shot from, take out your whip, and between the stripes call ' down,' in a hjud voice ; continue this at intervals for some time ; and, even when you have finished your discipline, don't allow the dog to rise for ten minutes at least; then, after speaking a few words expressive of caution, take him slowly up to the bird, and lift it before h?s nose. If this plan is rigidly followed for several shots, I never saw the dog that would con- tinue to run in." The writer, it will be obseiTcd, is here speaking of running in to eat or tear, not to "fetch''' his bird ; thr?.t being a practice never taught, or allowed, to Pointers and Setters in England, simply because, being used altogether in the open field, it is as needless there, as it is necessary here. When I first came to this country, I imported a fine young Setter pup, which I had broke by Mr. Sandford, of Newark, whom I consider, in all respects, the best and most intelligent dog-breaker I ever saw ; and, on conversing with him on the mode of breaking, I was equally surprised at learning two things, — that Setters, or Point- ers, were invariably broke '^^o "fetch" or retrieve dead birds ; and that they were always tau^^t to " come in" before chai'g- ing. I was exceedingly incredulous on the first point; audit was only with reluctance, and after seeing the steadiness with which his dogs first charged, then pointed dead, and then fetched, that I consented to allow " Chance" to be broke to retrieve. On the other point I was firm ; and Mr. Sandford having broken that dog for me, to drop to shot, on the sjiot, without coming in^ was so thoroughly convinced of its advantage, in giving steadi- ness, in avoiding unnecessary words and orders, and in render ing tlie dog promptly obedient, that he at once adopted the me- thod, and has never broken a dog otherwise since that time. 1 must add, that I am equally well satisfied, that to retrieve TTPLAND SHOOTING. 185 IS a necessary accomplishment for a Setter or Pointer in this country ; that it would be an advantage everywhere ; and that a dog can be precisely as steady fetching every bird, as he can if incapable of so doing. But he must invariably be made, not only to down-charge, but to point (had, before he is allowed to fetch. If the second duty is neglected, it will be a very little while before the ani mal begins to rush in at every shot, without charging. One great difficulty here is, that no one in America hnving gnmekeejiers, the hunting of the dog, so soon as he is turned out of the breaker's hands, falls directly on the master — who is very generally, even if himself a very passably go(jd shot, unac- (juainted with the methods of dog-breaking, and unqualified by his habits of life, for taking the trouble of going systematically to work with the animal, so as to keep him up to all that he knows, and to prevent him from either acquiring new bad tricks* or neglecting his old teachings. It is scarcely too much to say, that one half of the dogs in the United States, which go out of the breaker's into the master's hands valuable brutes, are, at the end of twelve months, worthless. I should strongly recommend young sjiortsmen, when pur- chasing new dogs, to take an opportunity, if j^ossible, of seeing them hunted several times by the brealxcr, and of endeavoring to obser\-e his peculiar modes of speech and action with the dog ; and at all events to learn those points of education, on which he insists, in order that they may guide themselves in their own conduct toward the animal therc])v, and insist on the animal acting in all respects up to his previous teaching. Old sports- men, of course, have their own ways of having their dogs trained, and on these they are so trained hejore buying them. Another thing is worthy of observation — a dog never ou^ht to be lent. I would not lend my dog to a hcttvr sportsman than myself — because no two sportsmen hunt their dogs, as I have observed, exactly alike, and I wish my dog to hunt as I want him to hunt, not better than he does, nor worse. It is impossi- ble to imagine the difference of tlie intelligence of two dogs, •t. sv I ! li J' I 1:1 - ill I ■■ lit :i 1 Hi 1 : 1 1 i i! 4 'J li i i i ^'i 186 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. equally good by nature, the one of which has never been hunted but by one master, and the other by every one whom he has been pleased to follow. I have tak(}n the opportunity of making these observations on dog-breaking, and dog-hunting, in this place, because in summer Woodcock shooting, above any other phase of the sport, an implicit obedience, great steadiness, and perfect staunchness is required in the dog. In Quail, or Snipe-shooting, you can see your dog the greater part of the time ; you can ol)sei*ve his every motion ; and can usually, if you are quick- sighted and ready-witted, foresee when he is about to commit a fault in time to check him. In summer shooting, woe betide you, if you entei'tain so wild a hope. You himt darkling, catching sight of your four-footed companion only by snatches, often judging him to be on the point, because you have ceased to hear the rustle of his sinuous movement through the bushes ; or because you have not seen his foiTn gliding among the water- flags or fern, so recently as you should have done, had he turned at his regular distance, and quartered his ground without finding game. It is not once in ten, nay ! in twenty times, that you see him strike his trail, draw on it, become surer, and stand stiff. You lose him for a moment, look for him, w/iere he oiigM to he, and find him because he is there, pointing as you expected. A step or two forward, with your thumb on the hammer, and the nail of your foi'efinger touching the inside of your trigger- guard. Still he stands steady as a rock ; and you know by the glare of his fixed eye, and the frown of his steadfast brow, and the slaver on his lip, that the skulking Cock is within ten feet of his nose, perhaps within ten inches. You kick the skimk- cabbages with your foot, or tap the bunch of cat-briars with your gun-muzzle, and flip-flap ! up he jumps, glances, half-seen foi a second, between the stems of the alder bushes, and is lost to sight among the thick foliage of their dark green heads, before your gun-butt has touched your shoulder. But your eye has taken in his line — the trigger is drawn, the charge splinters the stems and brings down a shower of green leaves, ant^ UPLAND SHOOTING. 187 among them yoii fancy that you luive seen an inJintinct some- thing falling lielplessly earthward — that you liave heard the thvil of his tumble on the moist ground. Nevertheless, anxious although you be, and doul)tful of your own success, you stir not from the spot. At the report of the gun, your dog couch- ed instantly ; you can scarcely see him, so closely has he charged among the water-grass, with his nose pressed into the very earth between his paws. You drop your butt upon the toe of your boot, if the ground be very wet, and begin to load, rapidly, yet coolly and delibe- rately. Yes ! you have killed him ; you may see the feathers floating yonder, in the still mui'ky air of tin; windless swamp. You half-cock your locks, and apply the cajjs ; and, expectant of the coming order, " Don" lifts his nose wistfully. " Hold up, seek dead !" and carefully, gingerly, as if he were treading up- on eggs, knowing as well as you do that the bird is dead, and knowing pretty well where he is, at a slow trot, moving his nose fi'om this side to that, snuffing the tainted air, and whip- ping his flanks with his feathered stern, he draws onward at a slow trot. Now he has caught the scent, he straightens his neck, quickens his pace a little, decidedly and boldly, and stands firm. " Good dog : Fetch," He stoops, picks up the dead bird, by the tip of the wing only, and brings him to you without ruffling a feather. How conscious, how happy, how perfectly aware that he has merited your approbation, that you have both played your parts handsomely, as he hands you the trophy. Let him snuffle at it, for a moment, if he likes it ; he would not touch it with a tooth, for a dog kingdom ; but the scent is to him what the aroma of a glass of Lynch's Chateau JMaro-aux of '25 is to you, — let him enjoy it, he shall not serve you the worse, for that he looks for his reward. Here, gentle reader, is what thou art expected to do on oc- casion. Do it thus, always, and thou art a good sportsman, and a crack shot, not a doubt of it. Do it thus, very often in one day, and thou art having a right good day's sport of it ; ^:^ ! -Jl 1 It p -I'' i ! I i •.,'1 188 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. such as I trust I may Imve many, boforo this year has (hinneJ the scn^ of the leaf, which is not as yet green. Jesting Hpart, this is the way to ch) it, both as regards tho flushing ajid shooting the bird, and tlie management o[ the dog ; and, with respect to the hist, I have only to add, that while it is impossible to be too resolute, too firm, and almost impossible to be too strict, if not severe, it is also impossible to be too jiatient, too deliberate, or too f/ia'cf, with a delincpient dog. The least outbreak of temper j)rostratcs its own object. All punishment aims at prevention. If you distract the dog's comprehension of your meaning, the oliject of the punishment is lost. Remem- ber, too, that the brute knows as well, whether he is punished justly or unjustly, as you do. A quiet rating, and a gentle pull of the ear, is better than an intemperate and noisy flogging ; but when you do flog, let it be no child's play, tensing and irritating without punishing, — when you do flog, flog in earnest. And this is a day's summer Cock-shooting, — a repetition of this that I have desci'ibed, varied by tho.';e thousand little un- foreseen incidents, which render field sports so channing to every sensitive and enthusiastic spirit. First of all, it is pursued in the very loveliest summer weather, when the whole atmo- sphere is alive with all sounds of merriment and glee, — it is fol- lowed among the wildest and most romantic combinations of rural sceneiy — in the deep, dim, secluded groves, far from the ordinary tread of man, by the reedy and willow-gii'dled mar- gins of calm inland waters, by the springy shores of musical mountain brooks, in long-retiring valleys high up among the hills, whence we look forth at unexpected turns over wide tracts «>f woodland scenery — in places where tho shyest and most timid of warblers wake their wild music all day long, screened by impervious umbrage from the hot noon-tide of July, where every fonn of animal life and beauty abounds, unbeheld of or dinary mortals. And are not all these things a source of pleasure to the true woodsman 1 Is he not necessarily a lover not of sport only, anJ 1 »{ UPLAND SiroOTIXG. 180 of ttxcifemrijt — tliose aro flu? iiulcr ;iiid less genial att\iliufL*s of his profession — l)ut a lovrr of nsitiirc 1 To his nieio success as a sportsrnnn, I have alrendy shown tliat a knowledge of the habits and instincts of aiiim;ils is necessary ; jind let a man onco set himself to study th<,\se, and he has tui'iicd already the first pngo of natural history; and so enticing is the study, that lie perforce must persevere. And none can study natural history, without loving nature. The true sportsman, th(! ifciith' sp(»rt.s- man, must Ix; in some soil a poet — not a jingler of rhymes, or a cramper of Knglish words into strange and uncongenial mea- sures, a meter of syllables, and a counter of fmgt;rs, hut a lover of ;ill things beautiful and wild — a meditator, a muser ! IIo must be, as the old pastorals were, nijmjiJuiruni fugientnm ainn- for ; and to the very farthest flight of their coy footsteps must he follow them. AVerc it not for this, the sportsman were but a mere skilful butcher, — out upon it ! there be better things than this in our philosophy ! This it is, with the sense of freedom, the sense of power, of manhood, of unchained and absolute volition, which we feel when our foot is on the mountain sod, our lungs expanded by the mountain air, that makes, in some sort, every man a spoits- man. And then the noonday repose beneath the canopy of some dark hemlock, or tall pine, still vocal with the same fitful mur- mur which pleasured in Arcadia the ears of old Theocritus — the dainty morsel, rendered a thousand times more savory than your city banquets, by the true Spartan sauce of hunger, the cool draught tempered by waters cooller and clearer, though perchance less full of inspiration, than the lymph of Hippocrene ; the pleasant converse on subjects manifold, over the mild fumes of the composing cigar, — or, if need be, the camping out in the wild woods, the plying of the axe to form the temporary shanty, the kindling of the' merry blaze, the inide yet appetiziii'j;- cook- ery, the buoyancy of soul caught from all these things, the un- tutored jest, the untaught laughter; and, last not least, com- posed on the fragrant hemlock tips, which strew the woodman's r 190 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ;l' fl!l. couch, lulled by the murmur of the wind in the never-silent tree tops, by the far plash of falling waters, by the plaintive wailing of the whip-poor-will, and the joyous revelry of the dew- drinking katydids — the sleep, under the blue vault of the skies, guarded by the winking eyes of the watchful planets only, — sweeter and sounder, lighter and more luxurious, than princes catch on beds of eider-down and velvet. Lo ! you now, reader, have not we too caught the inspira- tion, and ere we knew it, waxed poetical ! 'One thing alone is wanting to the perfection of summer shooting as a sport — I speak not now of the unfitness of the sea- son for hard exercise, — no season is, in truth, unfit for the dis- play of manhood ! — nor of the unfitness of the half-grown broods for slaughter ! — and that one thing is, the want of variety in the species of game. In autumn, hearty, jocund, brown autumn, the woodman's sport is indeed manifold. Even when his dog has pointed, though he may guess shrewdly from the nature of his movements and the style of his point, the sportsman knows not what may be the game which shall present itself to his skill. It may be the magnificent Ruffed Grouse, whirring up vdth a flut- ter and an impetus that shall shake the nerves of a novice ; it may be a bevy of quail eighteen or twenty strong, crowding and jostling one another in their anxiety to avoid the danger, and distracting his aim by the multiplicity of objects; it may be a lull-grown white-fronted Woodcock, soaring away with its sharp whistle high above the tree tops ; it may be the skulking Hnre, boimcing among the kalmias and rhododendrons, vulgarly generalized as laurels — they might as well be called cabbages ! — it may be Teal or Wood-duck, or if we are in the open, it may be Snipe, skirriiig away zig-zag over the rushy level. This it is which gives so strange a zest to the field sports of an American autumn day, and which renders the autumn shoot- ing of this country the wildest and most interesting of any it has ever been my lurk to encounter — of any, I presume, in the world, unless it be that of Northern India, on the lower slopes and in the plains at the foot of the Himalayah Mountains. fJPLAND SHOOTING. 191 And with this ends all that is to he said on summer "Wood- cock shooting ; foi* the period during which the sport can be followed is of itself brief, not lastuig — at tin; utmost not above a month from its commencement to its termination, b}' the disap- pearance of the birds from their usual haunts in this secticni of the country. This disappearance of the bird is one of the most mysterious and inexplicable features in the natural history of the ^A'ood- cock ; and what is very remarkable, it is not in any wise no- ticed or alluded to by any naturalist with whose works I am acquainted. Neither Audubon nor Wilson appear cognizant of the fact, both speaking of the Woodcock, as if it tarried with us regularly from its arrival early in February, until its dej)ar- ture on the setting in of severe frost. That this is not tlie case, is perfectly well known to every sportsman in the country, although very few of these have trou- bled their heads to consider the circumstances of this short mi- gration, much less to record it. The fact is, that so soon as the young birds of the last brood are full-gro\\ni, the Woodcock withdraws for the purpose of moulting, and returns no more until the autumnal frosts have set fairly in, until the meadow grass is crisp, and the leaves sear. A few scattered birds in- deed linger in the old places, just enough to prove that there is an absolute change of place on the part of the others of the fa- mily, and these only, it is probable, in consequence of some ac- cidental circumstance which has detained them, such as the late- ness of their last brood, or perhaps an unduly early moult on their own part, compelling them to remain tranquil, while their congeners are moving. At all events, the disappearance of the main body is sudden, total, and simultaneous. So much so, that for the five or six earliest years of my residence in America, when matters of bu- siness prevented me from absenting myself from the city until the first of August, I was utterly unaware that the " Drowned Lands" of Orange county ever held many Woodcock, although T was in the habit of passing my summers in that immediate VOL. I. 15 i\ ■I I I r 111 ■W- 192 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. vicinity, and had beat the very ground on wliich I have subse- quently killed hundreds, without getting above half-a dozen shots. It is in the last week of July, or the first of August, that thia disappearance of the Cork, whether from the hill-swales, tho larger valleys, or the level meadows, takes place; and after this until the first week in October, it is useless to hiuit for them. A few birds can, it is true, at all times be procured, enou2:li to furnish a dainty for a sick friend, or perhaps at a hard ])inch to try a dog; but certainly not enough to render it agreeable, or worth the while to go out in pursuit of them. Another fact, going to prove that there is an absolute disap- pearance or emigration of the bird, at this season, is that on their retuni, they come in successive flights, tarrying each a longer or shorter time, according to the circumstances of the weather, and then passing onward. This is, I think, conclusive. When first I began to sport in this country, some sixteen years ago, there were two theories current among sportsmen, whereby to account for the fact, that in woods, where the birds swarmed in July, they were hardly to be found in August. Both theories, as I have proved to my own satisfaction, are untenable and groundless. The first was this — " That the bird did not in truth, disappear at all, but remained on his old ground ; though, owing to the fact of his being in moult, he gave otit no scent wliereby the dog could detect him ; and from sickness, or inability to fly with his wonted velocity, refused to rise before the tread of his intrudnig enemy, the man." This theory is answered in a word. The Woodcock, while in moult, (Joes give out as much scent, is ])ointed as readily by dogs, (Joes rise as willingly before the point, and is as good upon the table as at any other season. Facts, which are easily proved ; since, although the great mass of birds withdraw during August, and do not retuni befijre October, a few do still tarry in their old swamps, and may be found and shot, though so few in number, and at so great an expense of time and till. ipear the the io fly of Ills 11 while lyhy tTOOcl easily ihdraw do still though and TTPLAND SIIOOTINrr. 193 labor, as to renclei- the pursuit of them toilsome, and productive only of weariness and disappointment. I have, however, killed them repeatedly, while endeavoring to satisfy myself of the facts which I now assert, so deep in the moult that their bodies have been almost naked, and that they have fluttered up feebly, and with a heavy whirring, on wings divested of one-half the quill feathei's ; and, in that state, I have observed that the dogs stood as staunchly, and at as great a distance from their game, as usual ; and that the Ini'ds took wing as freely, though, in truth, half impotent to fly. Beyond this, it is scarce necessary to point out to an intelli- gent reader, that if the birds still lay in swarms on their old ground, however scentless, they must, when that grf)und is hi'nted closely by true-beating and industrious dogs, be either x'uv :p. or turned out of the grass, and caught in the mouth ■-!• . i.:.es; which I have never known to happen in all my e\j/onence of the field. The other theory was this, which T have heard insisted on as strenuously as the former, " That the Woodcock, on beginning to moult, betakes himself to the maize or Indian com fields, and remains there unsuspected until the crops have been hous- ed, and the cold weather has set in." That a few scattered Woodcock may be found in wet, low maize-fields, along the edge of woods, is true ; and it is true, also, that they feed in such situations in great numbers, (hrring tJic night, previous to their removal ; but that they are ever to be fi)und generally, or for any number of consecutive days or weeks in such ground, is an utterly incorrect surmise, disproved by long experience. I have applied myself carefully to the investigation f)f this circumstance ; and in the last ten years, have certaiidy beaten a thousand maize-fields thoroughly, with a brace of as good Set- ters as any private gentleman possessed, at the very period when farmers would tell me "they were as thick as fowls in the corn-fields ; " and I have not on any occasion flushed more than three birds, in any one field ; nor have I killed twenty-five (»n such ground altogether. ! 1 I w'.n 194 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. Somewhat, I must confess, to my sui-prise, I have ohserved within the last few weeks, a long and somewhat elaborate article, in the columns of that admirable journal, the New- York S})irit of the Times, the writer of which apparently quite uncon- Bcious of all that has been written on the subject, and seeming to believe that he has made a discovery, brings out anew the old corn-field story. The matter is really not worth talking about. Every school-boy knows that late in July and August a few birds occasionally resort to wet, woodside maize-fields, and every one who has shot fifty summer Cock in his life ought to know, that no number are ever to be found in them, and that he must have immense luck who bags a dozen Cock in all the maize-fields he -can beat in a hard day's walk. I would like nothing better than to bet season in and out, against one bird to the square acre — or square five acres, for that matter. I think the reader will admit that the two theories, allud-ed to above, are by these facts indisputably controverted. And now I must exj^ect that it will be enquired of me, " whither, then, do they go 1 What does become of them V To which sage questions it is, I grieve to say, my fate to be unable to make satisfactory reply. I was formerly inclined to believe, that when the moult is at hand, the Woodcock withdraws to the small upland runnels, and boggy streamlets, which are to be found everywhere among our highest hills or mountains. That the moulting season is the signal for dispersion, and the termination of all family ties between the young and old birds, is certain. From this time fi)rrh, until the next Febi'uary brings round the pairing time, the Woodcock, whether found singly in a solitary ])lace, or among scores of his kind, is still a lonely and ungrcgarious bird, coming and going at his own pleasure, without relerence — undemocratic rascal — to the will of the majority. In corroboration of this view of the absence of our bird during the early autumn, I was once informed by a gentleman whose word I have no reason to disbelieve, that on ascending once to the summit of Bull Hill, one of the loftiest of the High- UPLAND SHOOTING. 195 lands of the Hudson, with the intent of showing the fine view thence to a city friend, he found the brushwood on the barren and rocky ledges, and even on the crown of the hill, literally alive with Woodcock. This occurred, accordinjr to his state- ment, in the beginning of September, when no birds wore to be found in the level and wet woods below. He firthor stiitcd, that he at first intended to revisit the hill the ni-xt day, with ih)'j; and gun, in order to profit by his discovery, but was prevented doing so by casual circumstances, until the frost had set in keenly in the woods. He then climbed the hill, and beat it carefully with dogs, without obtaining one point to reward his labor; and on the next day fo nd the swamps below full of birds. Not vouching for the truth of this tale, I tell it as 'twas told to me ; the teller was a s^iortsman, and a man of average vera- city — that is to say, I should have been mcliued to believe any fact he stated, where I could see no interest, on his part, whicli should lead him to attempt deception. In this case there was no such reason ; not even the desire of prevailing in argument, for Wfc were not ax'guing. I cannot, therefore, well doubt the correctness of his information. If truly stated, as I believe it to have been, this fact makes somewhat for my former opinion. I have, also, myself, fre- quently found scattered birds on such hill-tops, and in such mountain-swales, while deei'-stalking, in August and .Septeml)er, though not ill numbers whicli would justify the belief in a general migration en masse to such localities. If, however, my half-formed opinion — for it is no more — be correct, the birds are dispersed at this period of the year, and are only to be found, casually, in knots of three or four, and never in greater numbers. The other, and, on the whole, perhaps more probable sug- gestion is this : that, after rearing their young, driven by the heat of the weather — or, it may be, by the temporary exhaustion of food on their favorite grounds, they move fiuthcr northward as does the English Snipe, yet earlier in the season, not to A ;t n < 3 1 >', i I ! \s !i jl il; w '4 \ "if i 1 Ml' i' ii'' 196 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. return until the premature cold of northern Canada drives them back, to tarry with us a few months on their way southward. Should this prove to be the case, the Woodcock, instead of being termed with us a summer bird of passage, must be regarded as a spring and autumnal visitant, like his congener, the Snipe — with this difference, that the Snipe rarely breeds with us, going northward to nidificate, while his fellow-emigrant, our Scolopa.r, invariably rears his young before going farther toward the frosts of the northern ]iole. Of these sutjo'estions mv readers must iudjrc whether is the ])etter of the two; one of the two I believe to be (he only wiiy for accounting for the Woodcock's short disappearance at tliis season. For the rest, as 1 leaned at first to the form(>r, so do 1 now ratlier incline toward the latter belief, facts not bear- intr out the former to mv satisfaction, althouoh I do not think the (juestion has been, as yet, fully tested by experiment. It is to be regretted here, that this (|uesti()n is yearly becom- ing, in thes-c districts, more difficult of solution ; and I am the more strenuous in noting this emigration, because things may come, ere hmg, to such a pass, that it will become A\holly undistinguishable. Wlien I first shot in NoAv-.Tersey, and in the river counties of New- York, the disaiipearance of the birds was evident enough ; because, up to a certain day, they abounded, and after that, Avere not. Now, long before the second week of .luly, the Woodcock are exterminated in their summer hann's for miles and miles around our 'large cities ; too many of them, alas! slaughtered before the season, when scarcely fible to fly — when nearly unfit for the table — when a game despical)le to the loyal sportsman, and a victim easy to the pot-hunting knave, who goes gvnning with a half-bred, half-broken cur, and a Ger- man fowling-piece, dear at a dollar's purchase. Oh ! gentlemen legislators — gentlemen sjiortsmen, " Reform it altogether !" Oh ! ye choice spirits, who stood forth, after the long, hard ill 'I 1 UPLAND SHOOTING. 197 winter and deep snow-drifts Quail-destroying of 1836, to rescue that deli'Tlitful little fowl from total extinction, stand forth in likewise now, in protection of the Woodcock. Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. Railroads are ruining the hopes — the pleasures of the sportsman ; our best shooting grounds now Gwarni, on the first of July, with guns more numerous than birds; the Warwick woodlands, once inaccessible to the pot- liunter and the poacher, may now be reached lor fifty cents ; may now be swept clear in a single day ; nay, are swcjit clear of half-fledged younglings, by men, boys, and bunglers, and ruthlessly devoured before the season has set in, by ignorant voracious cockneys. Reform it altojretlier !' h-'. ^i! Enact that the Woodcock shall not be slain — shall not be possessed — as Mr. Bhmt possessed him — on plate or in stomach, until the first day of October. Every true sportsman — every sportsman whatsoever, will go hand and heart with the law — will watch and prevent tlie illegal sale of the bird ; and tlien, ye gods of woodcraft ! Sylvans and Fauns ! and tliou, friend of the hunter. Pan ! wliat sport shall wc have in brown Octo- ber, when the sere underbrush is bare of leaves to mar the sportsman's aim; when the cool dewy earth sends up the odor of the game in fresh steams to the Setter's keen and sagacious nose ; when the pure air braces the nerves and fans the brow, delicious ; when the full-grown, white-fronted, pink-legged Cock springs up — not fluttering feebly now, and staggering stupidly into the muzzle of the gun, to drop again within twenty yai'ds, but on a vigorous and whistling pinion, wi h sharji-piping alarm note, swift as a rifle-bullet, soai'ing away through the tree-tops, or dardng, devious with abrupt zig-zags, among the thick-set saplings. Him, no boy can blaze at, his twenty times in half an hour, and slaughter after all with one chance pellet, or happily wea- ried down loitliout one ! Him can no German gun achii-ve, of cast-iron, scattering its shot over an area of twenty feet, harm- ! [ ' I 198 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. less at twenty yards ! Him can no cur-dog flush in gun-shot of pot-hunting poucher. No ! gentle reader, him, whether he hes in the tufted fern and wintergreens, or the dry slope of some wann, westering hill- side, among second-growth of hrown oak and chestnut ; whether he Wildes among the shallow mud-pools, sheltered by fern, dock-leaves, and dark colt's-foot, of some deep maple swamp, it needs the stealthy pace, the slow, cat-like, guarded motion, the instinctive knowledge of the ground, the perfect nose, and absolute docility, which belong only to the thorough dog of tho thorough sportsman, to find certainly, and stand staunchly ! Him, whether he flap up, seen for one second only, among the leafless stems, and lost the next among the tufted tops of tho yet verdant alders ; whether he soar away, with his shai-p whistle, far, far above the red and yellow tree tops ; whether he pitch now here, now there, sharply and suddenly, among the close saplings, it needs the eye of faith, the finger of instinct, the steady nerve, the deliberate celerity, the marking glance, which characterise the sportsman — the crack shot, who — as poor Cypress averred truly — is born like the poet, not made like the orator — to cut down at his speed ; not wing-tipped or leg-broken, but riddled by the concentrated charge, turned over and over in mid air, arrested mercifully by quick and unerring death, and falling with a heavy thud, which tells good things of ten ounces' weight, on the brown leaves of gorgeous autumn. INIy words are weak to describe the full charm of this noble pastime — noble, when followed as it should be, in the true coii- vms and ardor of the chase — but most ignoble when perverted to base, culinary, carnal, gluttonous, self-seeking j^^^nposes — weak are they, when compai'ed with the vivid and heart-thril- ling reality — yet even thus, they will have done their diUy if they succeed in arousing the attention of the true friends of sports- manship throughout the land, to this most interesting subject. Certain it is that the "Woodcock returns, whether old or young, to the same place where he was bred and where he has reared his tJPLAND SHOOTING. 199 young, if unmolested. If pcrsscutcd and sliot off, year after year, on liis very breeding ground, and wliilc he was in tlie very act of breeding, lie will desert tliat ground altogellier. Of this, I have seen proof positive. In the immediate vicinity ot Warwick, in Orange county, within two miles of the village, there are twenty little woods and swamps, each ol" which used ten or twelve years ago to be a certain find in July for two, three or more broods of birds. It was easy shooting and easy marking ground, and year after year I and my party — at that time no one else shot in that region — killed off the whole summer stock, clean. The consecpience was, that long before the general shooting of the district was affected by the march of intellect and the grovvlh of railroads, and while birds yet abounded a mile or two farther off, those swamps ceased even to hold a summer brood. Twenty birds killed in a wood, twenty days in sacces'^ion, injure that wood less as a home for Woodcock than te,. killed once in July. Hence, as for fifty other reasons, I say, if we would have Woodcock shout the W^oodcock, who is a mere emigrant, hero to-day and away to-mcjrrow, has no domestic friend, no hindk)rd to protect him, and men forget that if spared, he will as snrely return to breed in the same wood again, bringing all his progeny with liim to increase and mul- tiply, as the tepid whids and warm showers of April and May will succeed to the easterly gales and snow drifts of INIaich, and the leaves be green in summer from the buds which burst in spring. INIy game law, such as it is, will be found in the ajipendix to T^[)l;ind Shooting. 1 believe it would be useful as it is, but shoidd any sportsman or any society of sportsmen be able to concocr one better either in practice, or in the })robability of success, I and all my friends, and those who think with me (jn the subject, are ])repnred to support it. Tiiity of action is the one thing needful; and that cannot be attained if every man holds out resolutely for his own crotchet. Let the princij)le once be aflirmed and made good, and the details are of infinitely minor importance. They will follow. For the rest, wha! is to be done, must be done quickly, or we shall be liable to the ridicule which falls on the tardy Jtmicant who locks his stable door after the horse is stolen. TlntH> or I'our more seasons like the two last, and the ques- tion will be settled to our hands, and if we do not bestir ourselv(>s now, we shall find ere long that we shall have neither sunnner nor autumn Cock-shooting within a hundred miles of the seaboard. UPLAND SHOOTING. 201 UPLAND PLOVER SHOOTING IT 1 1 the end of July, all tliat can properly bo calhul .shooting, as a genuine sport, is at an eml. Tin- Woodcock, as I have already stat- ed, is no longer to be found, wlutli- cr he be lying jicrd it on the niiuiii- tain tops, or off on a wilder wing ■ for the far north. The Snipe has ^ not yet begun to return from his arctic breeding places ; the (^uail is still busy with her eggs, or her fledging cheepers ; and the Ruffed Grouse, although her young are already two-thirds grown, is pro- tected by the game-laws until the first day of November. This last prott'cti n by tlu; way, is as absurd in point of fact, as I'verylhiiig eonncctc^d with the game laws of the Slates. All the varieties of (J rouse arc earlv breedt'rs ; their voung come ra})idly to maturity ; when full-grown they ar(; as wild as hawks ; and at all times, from their own li!d)its, and the peculi- arity of the ground on wliicli they reside, they take better care of ihcmscKt's, tlian any dher s})e( ies of winged game. Tlio breedinu: season of these birds commences in May; early in June tlie youii'4- birds can fly ; and by the middle of September they arc full-gi'own. There is this peculiarity about them, moreover, that they do not, as all other birds of ibis order, raso/r.s, with which I am acquainted, keep tcjgether in broods or coveys until the commencement of the next breeding season ; but separate altogclber, and ramble about either as sinyle indi- viduals, or in small parties, during the autumn and ^^■intc^. h > '] t ' Q08 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD StOKTS. After this Hcpuration haw once taken place, tlio birds, Loth young and old, are so wild that they will rarely or never lie to be pointed by a dog, unless they are found by chance in some very dense brake or grass-grown thicket, in which they cannot run ; and consequently there is no chance of having any sport with thera, after they have once ceased to keep company. This, I think, they invariably do, before the law permits that they should bo shot. Consequently, although I have often been in regions where they abound, I have never found it worth the while to go out to hunt for them especially. They are a bird of a very rambling disposition, here to-day and miles off to- morrow, frecjuenting the roughest and most inaccessible moun- tain-sides, evergreen thickets, and woods of hemlock, pine or red cedar ; and I have never seen, and never expect to see the place where a sportsman can be sure of getting a dozen shots over points, or even half that immber, in a day's hard walking. Add to this, that if the Ruffed Grt)use be the particular object of pursuit, there is no chance of finding any other species of game, unless it be a few Hares ; for the haunts of this solitary and mountain-loving misanthrope are too wild and rude for the domestic Quail, and too arid for the Woodcock. In autumn shooting, stragglers are often met on Quail ground, in low thickets, bog-meadow edges, and the like, and then they afford good sport, and often make a great addition to the bag ; but the only way is to take them as you find them, and if you find them, be thankful ; but never deviate from your regvdar line of beat in order to find, or to follow them ; if you do, sure disappointment awaits you. The best day I ever had with Rufled Grouse, was in the low, dense tliickets on the edge of the Big Piece, in New-Jersey, in the winter of 1837; when there were a vast quantity of Quail in that region ; but I had not the least expectation of finding more than a chance strag- gler or two of the Grouse. With a friend, however, I bagged eight brace of these birds, fairly pointed, which I consider great sport, as I have never before or since seen an opportunity of doing a quarter of the work, though I have taken long jounievB tJPLAND SHOOTING. 803 for tho oppcrial ptiqiosc of tfetfiiifT this Bport in perfection. If th(> law autliorized the sliriotiiiij tliem in September, or at the latest on tho first of October, there are many districts of tlie country, where tlie Itiilled Grouse would afl'ord great sport to those, who would take the trouble to pursue them into their fastnesses, which requires considerable strenirth and activity. In the meantime, liowever, while there is no l('t,Mtiniato upland shootin<( to be had — by leijitimate, I mean that, which is followed with dojrs, whether Setter, Pointer or Sjianiel, in a le!fitimate and scientific manner — there comes into play, at the very critical moment, the " Bartramian Sand[)iper," better known as the "Upland Plover" — " Grass Plover" — "Field Plo- ver," or " Frost Bird" — which as far as a honnc houchc for the epicure goes, is inferior in my judgment to no bird that flies, unlef+s it be the Canvass-Back ; and there, with the Chancellor, I (loiihf. ! As a fjame-bird, and object of pursuit, I do not my- self care about him, the inndi/s operandi docs not suit my book, or entertain me ; nevertheless, there is much skill displayed in circumventing, or as Major Doclunty would say, surrounding this wily bird, and as frequently a very large number may be brought to the bag, it is with some persons a very favorite sport. This bird, which by the way is vnt. a Plover, though very nearly allied to that species, is stDted by Mr. Aububon to arrive in the Middle States, early in iNIay, to reach Maine by the mid- dle of that month, to breed from Maryland northward to the Sashatchewan, and to winter in Texas and Mexico. It is shot, in the Eastern and Middle States, from INIassachu- setts to Pennsylvania, during the months of August and September, and in fact, until it is driven southward by the frosts ; although it is worthy of remark, that it is also killed abundantly so far south as the neighborhood of Charleston, S. C, as early as the middle of July. The great majority of the birds shot in these districts is certainly not composed of those only which are bred here ; but is continually swelled by flocks coming down successively from the north-eastward, where I 11 < t, $ \\ j-:| '^^i III r 204 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. imngiiio tliey breed, in far greater quantities than within tho confines of the States. On their arrival here they frequent, wherever such exist, wide, upland downs or moors, covered with short, close turf; and are found in greater numhers in Eluxle Island, in the vicinity of Newport, than in any other district with which I am ac- quainted ; although from the aspect of the country, the nature of the soil, and the quality of the grass lands, I cannot doubt but that they must exist abundantly along the Atlantic coasts of the State of oNIaine. Comparatively speaking, there are few sjiorta- men in that region, as is the case in all new countries, where men hunt for profit or for provision, not for sport, and where the pursuit of the larger animals is so common and so well rewarded, as to render the shooting of birds on the wing rare, and in the eyes of the community rather ridiculous. The con- sequence of this is, that the capabilities of the country in a sporting view, are ludcnown ; and the species of game, to be found in it, almost certainly lost to the sporting world. In .Tune, 1810, I saw several of these birds, with young, in the immediate vicinity of the city of Bangor ; and I have little or no doubt that, were 2>^'oper means taken, great numbers might be procured at the proper season in that region. The Field Plover is abundiint in the Boston markets during the season; and I believe thoy are sufficiently common to affiDrd amusement to the sportsmen of that country, though I am not aware in what parts of the State they are most frequent. On the plains in the vicinity of Hempstead, Long Island, they used to aboiuid ; a. id they still fre(jucnt that country, nlthou<>h not nearly so numerous as they were some years since. In New .lersey they are very rare, owing to the natui'e, I imagine, of the soil, and the face of the country ; for these birds are the least maritime of their rnce, and never, I think, frequent salt marshes, or water meadows of any kind ; of which most of the low lanils in New Jersey consist, while its hills are not open sheep-walks, but rocky and wooded fastnesses, equally unfit for this Sandpij)er's abode. UPLAND SHOOTING. 20/> Where vast unenclosetl plains are not to be found, this bird loves to haunt large hill pastures, fallow-fields, and newly ploughed grounds, where it finds the various kinds of insect food to which it is so partial, — grasshopjiers, beetles, and all tho small coleopterous flies common to such localities, in the grass lands — and worms, small snails, and the like, on the fallows. The Upland Plover is a shy and timid bird ; and, on foot, it is, for the most part, nearly impossible to approach it. It feeds on ground such as I have described, in small companies — they cannot be called Jloch^., for they do not usually act in concert, or fly together, rising, if they arc startled, one by one, and each taking its own course, without heeding its companions — this, liy the way, I have noticed as a peculiarity of all the upland scolo- pacidc/^, none of which fly, so far as I have ever obseiTed, in large bodios, wheeHug and tui'ning simultnneously, at a signal, as is the practice, more or less, of all the maritime Sandpipers, Tattlers, Plovers, and Phalaropes. While running swiftly over the surf ice of the ground, they utter a very peculiar and plain- tive whistle, exceedingly mellow and musical, which has tho remarkable quality of appearing to be sounded close at hand, when it is in reality uttered at a very considerable distance. It is this note which fre(juently gives tlie first notice to the sports- man, that he is in the vicinity of the bird ; and it also gives him notice that the bird is aware of him, and out of his reach ; for no sooner is it uttered, than the S;indpiper either takes wing at once, or runs very rapidly to some distance, and then rising, sweeps round and round in aorial circles, and alights again out of distance. If wing-tipped, or slightly wounded, it runs so ra- pidly as to set pursuit at defiance!, and tlien s(juats behind some clod of earth, or tuft of grass, to the colors of which its beauti- fully mottled plumage so n.early assimilates it, that it caiuiot be distinguished, without great difficulty, among the leaves and herbage. I have only shot this Sandpipcu' myself, on a tract of upland pasture and ploughed land near to Bristol, in Pennsylvania, known as " Livingston Manor," where I found the birds veiy - i; 1! i J .V .1 ^ r;r i 4 ^1 II i; I i'i ! t 208 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. in tliis manner, and I have heard of infinitely greater quantities beinjf brouQ:ht to bacr. The record of some almost incredible number, killed by three guns, was publi.slied last year in the Spirit of the Times, and by well-known sportsmen ; but I have never tried the sport myself, and cannot thin-efore speak to it. I am told, it is vastly exciting and amusing, — but I have been told the same thing about lying flat on your back in a battery, off Fire-island Inlet — and I can only say, judging from analogy, that it may be very well for once or twice, or to kill a few hours when there is no other spf)rt to be had, but that it must be awfully slow work, as compared with any sort of field shooting, on which the instinct and intelligence of dogs can be brought to bear. To see them work is, I think, more than half the battle. After all, any shooting — excej)t shooting fiiiflng — is better than no shooting ; and I have no doubt, if T were at TJhode Island, in the proper season, I should be found cJudsivg it, as eagerly as any body else, I am sure I do not know why I should not, since older, and I dare say, better sportsmen than myself swear by it. This, then, is the connecting liidv between the autumn and spring shooting of the U})lands. For those who like them. Bay shooling, at all the varieties of Plovers, Sandpipers, Tattlers, Phalaropes, and Curlews, known along shore as " Bay Snipe," is to 1)0 had, in full foi-ce, everywhere from Cape Cod, or fur iher eastward, to Cape May, during the months of July, August, and September; and, in the end of August, Rail shooting com- mences on the Delaware and adjacent rivei's ; but of these I shall treat in their places, — since the former must be regarded as Ct)ast shooting, and the latter cannot be classed with Upland sport, although it is only pursued inland. With Plover shooting, therefcn-e, the sports of the summer months end; and, with the month of October, the jolliest, hear- tiest month of the whole year, despite of what INIr. Bryant says of ''the melancholy days" of autumn, the real season has its commencement ; and thereafter the woodlands, the stubbles, and the mountain's-brow, are the true sportsman's Paradise. UPLAND RHOOTINO. 209 AUTUMN COCK SHOOTING. UTUMN shooting, wliich is^'/^r f.r- cclhncp the trno sport of the trnn sportsman, can- not bo said to have its begin- ning on any particular clay, or even in any particular month of the season. Its commencement is I'ogulated by tlie return of the Wood- cock, after its brief August migration ; and, the period of that return being uncertain, and dependant on the state of the w^ea- ther, and other influences, witli which we are not fully ac- quainted, the sportsman has only to bide his time, and take the season as he finds it. In truth, the variation of the autumnal season is in this res- pect very great, as regards both the Woodcock and the Snipe. I have shot both of these birds together, in considerable num- bers, on the same ground, so early as the 12th or 15th of Sep- tember ; and again, in other seasons, neither the one nor the other bird have made their appearance until so late as the mid- dle of October. As a general rule, however, I should say that Woodcock be- gin to return to the Atlantic States, in ordinary seasons, about the middle of September, and the Snipe about the first of Octo- 1 1 ,, .1 :-^:i! m \ Mi: t i \ r ' \ I 1 4 1 ■ m a r.i I i!i 210 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. ber, — the latter bird being for the most part a few days behind his congener. It is very v » worthy of remark, both by the sportsman and the scientific ornithologist, that on their return in the autumn, neither the Woodcock nor the Snipe are found precisely on the same ground, which they use in spring ; and I am inclined to believe, that a more thorough investigation of this fact, might lead to the acquisition of more knowledge than we possess at l^resent, concerning the causes of the migration of our various bii'ds of passage. In my articles on spring Snipe, and summer Cock shooting, I have observed that at these seasons the two birds frequently appear to change their habits and haunts mutually ; the former being very often found in low brushwood, and among dense briar patches, and the latter, even more commonly, on open, rushy, water meadows, without a bush or particle of covert in the vicinity. In no respect does this ever happen in the autumn. I have seen no instance myself, nor have I heard of any from the most constant and legular country sportsman, who have the best op poilunity of noting such peculiarities, of the Snipe ever resort- ing even to the thinnest covert on wood-edges, much less to dense coppices and tall woodlands, in the autumn. Nor have T ever seen a Woodcock on open meadow in that season. In Salem county, in New Jersey, this latter fact is very strongly demonstrated ; inasmuch as during the summer the birds are hunted entirely, and four-fifths of them killed, on what would elsewhere be called regular Snipe ground, or in small brakes along the dykes and river margins ; and there is no finer summer Cock ground than this county, in the wliole State. In the autumn, on the contrary, when the bird seeks other lo- calities, there is little or no covert, such as he loves, to be found in Salem, and of consequence, there is little or no autumn Cock Bhooting to be had in the southern district of New Jersey. The Snipe, on his arrival, betakes liimself at cjnce to the same ranges of country, and the same meadows, as in the spring ; UPLAND SHOOTING. 211 and, with the sole exception that it is entirely useless to look for him in coppices, or along springy woodsides, as I have re- commended in wild weather in spring, his haunts and habits are precisely the same. He is more settled, not being now hurried in point of time, or busied about the pleasures of courtship, or the cares of nidi- fication. He lies harder before the dog, does not tly so far when flushed, and feels little or no inclination to ramble about, but adheres steadily to one feeding ground, unless driven away from it by persecution, until the hard frosts of winter compel him to betake himself to the rice-fields of Gem-gia, and tlie muddy margins of the warm savannah. Moreover, the weather itself being at this time steadier, and less mut.ible, tlie birds are much less often forced to move from one part of the country to another, by the fitness or unfitness of the ground. In spring one year the meadows ure too wet, and another perhaps too dry, — both conditions being at times car- ried to such an excess, as to drive the birds off altogether, from the impossibility of feeding or lying comfortal)ly. In the autumn this is rarely, if ever, the case ; and although autumn shooting is, of course, in some degree variable — Snipe being more abun- dant one year than another — it never has occurred, within my observation, that the flight passes on altogether without pausing, or giving some chance of sport, more or less, as is not very un- usually the consequence of a series of droughts or rains in the spring. The "Woodcock, on his return from the northward, or his des- cent from the mountain-tops, never, as a general rule, returns precisely to the same feeding grounds which he prefers in sum • mer, during the extreme heats, but appears to prefer dry hill- sides, sloping to the sun, southerly or westward, and to clioose woods of young saplings, or sprouts, as they are commonly called in this country, tall, wet maple groves, and second growth of oak, adjacent to brook or meadow feeding grounds, rather than the dense coppice, and that variety of bralccs and in- tervales, or glades, whicii he loves the best in July. This pecu- 1 t (.. I ,1 ■( .1 ( I * I ! SI^W H 212 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. ;■ iri liarity renders him a more agi-eeable object of pursuit at this period of the year, the rather that he is now found often in company with bevies of Quail, and tliat ahnost invariably the latter bird, when flushed in the stubbles where he feeds, ilies for shelter to the very covert most haunted by the Woodcock. All this will, however, vary more or less, according to the nature and face of the country ; for where there is excellent feeding and breeding ground, not intersjicrsed with the i'erny hill-sides, overgrown with young, thrifty, thickset woodland. Cock do not desert the region, but are found almost in the same haunts as in summer. And where that is the case, the sportsman may note this dis- tinction, that whereas in summer, when he has once killed off clean the whole of the one, two, or three broods, which fretjuent a small piece of coppice, or swamp thicket, it will be utterly useless for him to beat it again, he may no:v, dny after day, kill every bird on a piece of good feeding ground, and will still each succeeding morning find it supplied with its usual com- plement. I first learned this fact in Orange county, whe:e, within half a mile of the tavern at which I put up, there is a small, dry, thorny brake, with a few tall trees on it, lying on a sort of island, surrounded by a very wet bog meadow, and half encir- cled by a muddy streamlet, overhung with thick alders, the whole affair, brake, meadow, and all, not exceeding three or four acres. I knew the place of old as a certain summer-find for a single brood of Cock. In October, on the first day of my visit to the country, I beat this brake, at throwing off in the morning, and bagged eleven fine JciU birds — being four or five more than I exjiected — two birds went away wild without being shot at, and could not be found again. On the following day, having finished my beat early, and it not being above a mile out of my way home, I thought I would try to get the two survivors, and was much and most agreeably sur2)rised at bagging nine birds, all that were flushed, on the spot. UPLAND SHOOTING. £13 Being quite certain that these were new comers, and the make being a very pretty and easy place in whicii to get sliots, and mark birds, I beat it regubiriy, either going out, or coming home, every day during my stay in the country, and bagged uj^on it, in all, sixty-three birds in six successive days. This is now very many years ago, but I noted the tact Irom its singularity at the time ; and I have since obseiTed, that in certain highly favored jilaces, this maybe regularly looked for; and I would never recommend a sportsman, shooting late in the autumn, particularly after the nights hare begun to be frosty, to decline trying a likely piece of ground, a second, or even a third or fourth time, because he has already swept it clear of Woodcock. Tt does not, of course, follow of all ground whatso- ever ; but of all that ground which is the most beloved by the bird, it is' untpiestionably true that it will be filled, and refill(;d, many times in succession. This is certainly a curious fact, and one for which it is diffi- cult to account, by any reasonable mode of explanation. The successi(m of so many birds, is in itself singular, it not being at all apparent where is the reservoir from which the current is eupjjlied. It was not, in the case I have named, from other woods in the neighborhood, of slightly inferior excellence, as feeding ground, for these were not deserted ; and, if we suppose that the fresh supplies came in consecutively from the north- ward by long flights, how should they have been able to time themselves so exactly, as to come on the very nights when the haunt was vacant, and at their service ] On the other hand, if we adopt the idea that the descent is only from the neighboring mountain tops, why should these wait patiently until the others were killed off to their hands, instead of pouring down into the place in a body, and there remaining until the sujiply of food, which renders it so favorite a haunt, should be exhausted 1 Such, however, is invariably the case in such localities, and I never but once in my life observed anything like ajlock of these birds. That once, in a very wet place, on the edge of a heavy i I i i ! ( n ^.im i H if' m i 218 FRANK FORESTERS FlICLD SPORTS. m ; i m I I ■ ' I li benror, on liis right hand, and ever and anon as tlie circular glaic passes along over the surface of the ground, his eye detects the Woodcock, crouching close to the earth, and gazing with its full, fascinated eye upon the strange illuminatiiin. The next instant up it springs, dizzy and confused and soaring upwai'd toward tlie light. It is seen for a second, and then is lost in the surrounding darkness ; but of that one quick second the sportsman takes advantage; and by a snapshot cuts him down, with a light charge ; never killing a bird at above ten paces distant, and often bagging his hundred in a single even- ing's work. This mode of Cock-shooting, arises, as it is evident, ex neces- sitate j-ci, and may fc^r a while be sufficiently exciting. It must, however, lack all that variety, which is the gn^iit charm of our northern shooting ; variety, which arises from the working of the emulous, obedi'^')'^, and well-trained dogs, in observing whose exquisite instinct, fine attitudes and beautiful docility, mc judice, lies halt' the pleasure of field sports ; and which, together widi the lovely scenery, tlie brisk, breezy air, and the exulting sense of personal independence, and personal power springing from these and from the glow of cheerful exercise, renders them to active, enerf^etic and entbisiastic mnuls the first of pleasures, and almost a necessary relief from the dull monotony of every-day existence. This brings us to Quail shooting, and to what is the climax of all our field sports, that mixed, wild, autumn shooting, in one day of which, the laborious woodman may kill on one range, Quail, \\ oodcock, Ruficd Grouse, Hare, Snipe, and some two or three varieties of Wild Duck. I have had ruany a good day's sport in many countries, but above everything that I have ever seen, or exjjoct to see again, give me a day of rough and tumble autumn shooting, such as it was ten years ago in Orange county, and such as it may per- haps be again, for a short time, when the Eiie railroad shall first give us access to the southern tier of counties. Ale judice, there is nothing like it in the wild v\orld. UPLAND SHOOTING, 219 QUAIL SHOOTING. HAVE already, under my list of Upland ^ ^ Game, given a fiiU description of this ■;, lovely little bird from the pages of Audu- bon and Wilson. Both of these autliors lean to the south- ern fashion of callino; this bird a Par- tridge. Now the truth of the matter is simply this, that the bird in question is properly and accurately nei'ther one nor the other, but a distinct species, possessing no English name wliatever. 71ie ornitholo- gical name of the Partridge is Pcrdi.r, of the Quail Cofiirnix, of the American bird, distinct from either, Ortijx. The latter name being the Greek word, as Coturnix is the Latin word, meaning Quail. It is, of course, impossible to talk about kill- ing Orfyxes, or more correctly Ortijgcs, we must therefore, perforce call these birds either Quail or Partridge. Now as both the European Partridges are considerably moi'e than double the size of tlie American liird, as t1;ey are never in any ctuintry migratory, and as they differ from the Ortyx in not having the same woodland habits, in cr}' and in plumage ; while in size, and in being a bird of passage, iIk; I'^urojx'an Quail exactly resembles that of America ; resemblintr it in all other respects far more closely than tlie Partridge proper — I caimo for a moment hesitate in saying that Amkrican Qt'.vii, is the correct and proper English name for the Ortyx Mrginiann, and I conceive that the naturalists who first distinguished him from the Quail with which he was originally classed, sanction this 7'' 1 1 1 \ i-\ '; i!!!i ; n N'-fi 1^1 i \ 3 I i J 'I :1 I i '. 1: I I ! I il 220 FRANK FOnESTER's FIELD BPORTS. Englisli nomenclature l)y giving liim a scientific title directly analogous to Quail, and not to Partridge. I should as soon think myself of calling the bird a Turkey as a r;irtridgc, and I shall ever hold that the question is entirely ■L?t fit rest, and that the true name (»f this dear little bird \}\ the vernacidar is AMKRrr.vN Qu.vii, ; and his country has better rea- son to be proud of him, iian she has of many of her sons who make much more noise in the world than our favorite Bob- White. While on this subject, I may obseiTC — for the benefit of our northern sportsmen, many of whom I have heard positively assert tha't the Quail is not migratory — that every where west of the Delaware he is as distinctly a bird of migration as the Woddcock, and the farther w<.'St the more palpably so. Why he loses these habits with us of the Middle States T cannot guess, nor has any naturalist so much as alluded to the fact, which is nevertheless indisputable. It will be seen at once, from the foregoing description, that our American Quail is a most beautiful little bird; but his beauties do not consist merely in his phmiage, but in his gait, his pretty j>ert movements, his great vivacity, his joyous atti- tudes, his constant and cheerful activity. He is ill al'l respects the most social, the merriest, and most amiable of his tribe. Dmuiig the breeding season, he alone, of the gallinaceous tribe, makes wood and mead resound with his shrill, merry whistle, whence our country folk have framed to him a nanu; Boh -White, from some fancied similarity of sound, cheering his faithful partner during the toils of incu- bation. Afterwaid, when the bevies are collected, as he runs from the luiddle in wliich he has passed the ni ?T'!" ' ^ ^ t 226 FRANK FORESTER .S FIELD SPORTS. i ' s 'I'l iam ! from personal experience, or have lioard from otlinrs more rom- petent tt) pronounce on the siiliject, dK> Quail is the most diffi- cult botli to find and to kill with certainty. Ured in the open fields, and iecdinfr early in the moi-ninn-, and late in the attenioon, on bucl;\vheat and f)tlicr tjrain stub- bles, during all the rest of the day, the bevies lie huddled up to- gether in little knots, either in some small thorny brake, or under the covert of the grassy tussocks in some bog meadow. The small compass that each bevy occupies, while thus indo- lently digesting their morning meal, renders it very easy for the best dogs to pass within six yards of them, without discovering their whereabout ; and, conse(]uently, even where the country is well stocked with lievies, it is not an uncommon thing to toil a whole day through, without raising one-half the birds which have fed in the morning on your range. Again, when Hushed in the open, these birds immediately fly to the thickest and most impenetrable covert they can find ; and in some sections of the country in which I have shot, Maryland especially, that covert is of such a nature, so interwoven with parasitic creepers, cat briars, and wild vines, and so thickly set with knotted and thorny brushwood, that they can run with im- punity before the noses of your Pointers or Setters, and that, without the aid of cocking Spaniels, which are little used in the United States, they cannot be forced to take wing. These birds have another singular qiudity, which renders them exceedingly difficult to find, even when they have been ac- curately marked down after being once flushed. It is, that foi* some considerable time after they have alighted, they give forth no scent whatsoever, and that the very best dogs will fail to give any sign of their presence. Whether this retention of scent is voluntary on the part of the bird, it is very difficult to ascertain. It is a very strange power, if it be voluntary, yet not more strange than many others of the instincts possessed by wild animals. There is one thing which Avould lead to the conclusion that it is voluntary, or at least that the bird is conscious of the fact , iiM; nil UPLAND SHOOTING. 227 This is, that under thesu circumstances, the hinls will not rlso at all, until they arc Utor;il]y ahnnst trodden upon. It was very lonir hefore I could briuir myself to believe in the existence ot' tlii« singular power ot'.sujipression ; and very many times, alter having marked down a bevy to a yard in favorable ground, and having failed to start them, I have left the place, concluding that they had taken to the trees, or risen again unseen by uie, when I am satisfied, had I waited half an hour before proceed- ing to beat for them, I might have had good sport. I will hero observe, that although (.^uail do, beyond doubt, occasionally take the tree, in certain localities, and in some kinds of weather, still so far as my experience goes, they do so rai'ely when pur- sued, and then rather in consequence of some particular habit of a single bevy, than of any natural instinct of the binl. Once again — and I have done with the diiliculties of lindiiig — particular bevies, endowed with that singular crait, which ap- proaches so very nearly to reason, that it hardly can be distin- guished therefrom, will ily when ilushed, invariably for many days and weeks in succession, to some one small out-of-the-way nook, or clump of briars, s(j long as that nook is undiscovered, thus baffling all attempts to find them. In one instance, while shooting in the vale of Warwick, with an old comrade, when returning home late in the evening, and when within two hundred yards of his hospitable tavern, he said he thought he could start a bevy by the strca'"^ side, where he had observed that they often roosted. Accordingly we went to the place, and had not gone ten yards into the bogs, before the Setters, of which we had three, all came to their point simultaneously, and a large bevy of sixteen or eighteen birds jumped up before them. W^e got in our four barrels, and killed four birds handsomely ; and marked the birds over the corner of a neighboring wood, lowering their flight Qo rapidly, that we had no doubt of finding them on a buckwheat stubble, surrounded by thick sumach bushes, and briary hedges, which lay just bey(nid the grove. We hunted till it was quite dark, however, without moving ir II . i i- f IM i ; - I I J IWP^T ff tw 228 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. >'■' i i:l);, '^I1'lf1l the birds. On going out the next morning, we drew the hogs bliiuk, iiiul. it hecamo evident tliat they had roosted in thejilnre, wherever it was, to whicli tliey had flown, on heing disturl)ed. We set off, therefore, again in that direction, lioping to find them on tlieir feedincti(m ; and after a day's sport-^— wliether good, bad, or indifferent, I do not nf)W remember — again found our bevy in the same bogs, — killed a brace of them only, in consequence of their rising wild, and the evening having growTi dark, and again marked them over the same wood corner — the birds literally flying over the top of the very same crimson majile which they had crossed the pre- vious evening. It was too late to look farther after them that night, and J knew that they would not be in the bogs on the following morn- ing, — wo took, therefox'e, a different beat, and heard no more of my bevy. On the third day, however, being i^qved by the escape of these birds, I determined to spare no pains to find their hiding- places. We proceeded accordingly to the bogs, the "rst thing in the morning, found them before they had c[uitted their roost, and drove them for the third time over the top of the same red maple. These birds, be it observed, were on my old companion's own farm, every inch of which we knew thoroughly, and on which there was not a brake, or tuft of rushes, likely io haibor a single bird, much less a bevy, with which we were not ac- quainted. We spent four hours beating for these birds again in vain, and left the ground in disgust and despair. In returning home, however, that night, we recrossed the same fields ; and expecting nothing less than to find game, I wap walking down the sida of a snake-fence, along which grew a few old apple-trees, with my dogs pretty well fagged at my heel, and my gun across my shoulder. Suddenly out of the "■ UPLAND SHOOTING. 229 moutli of ail old cellar, over which a cottage had stood in past days, up wliiiled a bevy of Quail, and away over the very same tree-lop, but now in the opposite direction. On examining the cellar, the inside of which was filled with briars and weeds, we found conclusive proof in the numerous droppings of the birds, that they had been in the constant habit of sitting therein, attracted tliither probably, in the first instance, by the apples which had fallen into the hollow from the trees overhead. It was as yet but early in the afternoon, and we were so near home that we got fresh dogs, and went to work at them again in the bogs, where we originally found them. Some time had elapsed, and they had run together into a single knot, rose again very wild, and flew directly back to the old hiding-place. Thither we followed them at once, flushed them therein, proving most unetpiivocally that they had always lain imrdu in the same small spot, and drove them out into the open. It was too dark by this time to pursue them any longer ; and afterward, though v\e found them constantly in different parts of the bog meadow, neither as a body, nor as single birds, did they ever betake themselves again to tlie cellar for refuge. Had I not accidentally blundered on that place, when think- ing of anything rather than of the birds, I might have hunted for a month over the ground without finding them. From the cavity, and the nan'owness of the mouth, a dog might have gone within a yard of it without scenting them ; and I have no doubt that mine liad been more than once within that distance of them. And here I have done with the difficulty of finding, wliich by he way is not the least step toward killing our bird. It is, however, little less difficult to kill when found, than to find in the first instance. When first flushed tlie bevy rise with such a whirring and tumultuous noise that they are very apt to flutter the nerves of a young sportsman ; and if they rise very close to tlie shooter, I have often seen even tolerably good shots discharge both their barrels fruitlessly, from doing so much too quickly. 1 .■' i m i 111 \ !■ ' • i '- M M I ■ ( ' covert they shall cross and re-cross their giouiid fifty times, never biulgiug twenty yards from the feet of tlieir master, and working as slowly as the slowest Cock-dog. It will be seen at once tliat such a combination of opposite qualities must needs be very rare ; and so rare is it, that for every hundred of good Woodcock-dogs which I have seen in this country, I have nol seen ten equally good on Quail. I shall not touch hero on the comparative and much disputed excellence of the Pointer or the Setter, except to observe thai personally I greatly prefer the latter ; while I admit that for persons who shoot but rarely, and who do not like the trouble of constant supervision of their dogs, I had almost said constant dog-breaking, the Pointer is the more suitable companion. I have, however, seen, indeed have owned Setters, which in all points of steadiness might have competed with the staunch- est Pointers, and which were as careful and under as good comm;ind on the first, as on the last, day of the season. I will now suppose that the sportsman has arrived at his shooting ground, and taken up his quarters in his snug country tavern for the night, previous to commencing operations in the early morning over a brace of good dogs, Pointers or Setters, at his own option. First tlien, let him see his dogs, which we will suppose have run some part of their jouniey afoot, well suppered on nnish, or suppawn of Indian-meal, or oatmeal, seasoned with a little salt, but no meat, which injures the nose ; and well bedded on clean wheaten straw. Next let him sup lightly, limit his pota- tions to the second glass, and eschew a second pi^je or cigar. Let him to-bed early, that he may sleep well and rise refreshed and with steady nerves. These are small matters doubtless — but it is the observance of small matters that makes great men in any line, and in our case, good sportsmen. Lastly, let him assure himself before retiring to I'est, that his sheets are dry and well aired, no inconsiderable matter to him who would avoid rheumatism. If he be the least in doubt, and UPLAND SHOOTIXG. 235 be wise, he will tliscard the sus2)octetl liiicn, and turn in be- tween the blankets. On getting up in the morning, all ablutions duly perftn-nied, it will be necessjiry to j)rovido for the needful o])eratii)u of ])reaking fiist ; and this must neither be neglected, for no nnin can take exercise with impunity on an empty stom;uh ; nor must it be done too luxuriously, for as certaiidy no man can walk well, or fast, or keep it up long, on an overloaded one. Here is my method. I have found it impossible to get out early enough to do exe- cution fWun any country taveni, if one waits until a hot break- fast is prejjared ]\[y method, thereff)re, is to take with me a cold ham, or a cold hunters' round, and to have the table laid over night, in luhlition to that, with bread, butter, and cold milk, on wliich, for my part, I can In-eakfast very satisfactorily. This done, i'" you know the country, go to the place where are the most and likeliest grain stubbl(\s lying near to good woodland, or coppice covert, and beat them regularly, in such a manner that the woods shall he down-wind of your beat. Let your dogs, however, beat every field up-wind, by which means they will scent their birds one-third farther than if you go df)wn- wind. Look especially to the sides of the fields, particidarly if they are bushy ; Quail do not atfect the midule even of the stubbles on which they feed. If your dogs trail a nmning bevy, never run or hurry them. They are, if you do so, nearly sure to flush them wild. Be, on the contrary, very steady yourself, and cry " Steady ! steady ! Toho !" words to which dogs should be accustomed early. If they point firmly, and are sf> very staunch that you can dejjcnd on them, it is not a bad plan to make a wide circuit, and get a-head of the bevy, which even if wild and running, will often Rquat on finding itself enclosed between the dog and the gun, and thus afford good shooting. If you drive a bevy of Quail into good covert, be not in haste to follow it. It will stay there, be sure ; and you will find them *'! ( ■ I • ; ! m n ( i'-' 1 r .1 236 FRANK FORESTEU .S FIELD SPOKTS. far more cortainly after half an hour lias elapsed. For myself 1 liiivi! found it the best plan, wlu-re woods are small, and the covert thick, to goon heatiujr the open fields, without followint^ the bevies at all, in the first instance, markini^ them (l(twn care- fully when they rise, until the feeding and running hour has passed, — then to follow bevy after bevy, whither you have seen them alight ; and knowing their whereabout, if not the exact spot where they lie, the dogs will sf)on find them. Otherwise, if one wastes the morning in killing off one bevy, by the time he has done with it, the birds will have crept away into their liiding-})laces, and he may lumt the wood-skirts, and brush-holes, all day along, without finding another, even where they abound, unless he blunder upon one by chance. During the heat of the day, if one have not found birds in the morning, although it is pretty much chance work, bog mea- dows, brown bushes on southerly and westerly hill-sides, old pastures with much bent and ragwort, and the skirts of cop- pices, are generally the best ground, though in some regions they will be found in large ojien woodlands. In the afternoon, soon after four o'clock, the bevies again begin to run and feed, and in this part of the day they will fre- quently be met running alotig the grassy margins of streams which flow through pasture-fields, whither they resort to drink, or at least to crop the wet herbage. So good is the chance of sport at this time, that I would urge it strongly on the sportsman who has failed of finding his bevies on the feeding ground in the morning — if he knoiv that there is a fair show of birds in the district — not to persist in wearing out himself and his dogs, by fruitless toil in the heat of noon, but rather to await the cool aftenioon, when he will very oflen make up for lost time, and make a heavy bag when circumstances have looked least auspiciously. I have now set my sportsman fairly in the field, and shown him how best he may find his birds, — more is beyond my means. A crack shot must in some sort be bom ; but most persons UPLAND SHOOTING. 237 witli good oyesiglit, nnd steady nerves, may attain to respecta- bility, if nfrt excellence, in this gentlemanlike and manly art. To tins cud, practice and coolness are the great d(.'siderata, Rnles, I think, avail little, if anything. I have seen mv.u shoot excellently, who closed one eye to take aim — excellently who shot with both open, — never, however, I must admit, decently, who sJiut both — not, by the way, a very uncommon occun-enco with beginners. I have seen men again shoot excellently, car- lying their guns at full cock, — excellently, who never cocked either barrel till in the act of firing. There is, however, one thing to be observed, — no man can shoot well in covert, or at snap shots, who follows his bird with his gim, or dwells on his aim — the first sight is always the best; and it is 'frllhcrdfc promjitit/ule in catching this first sight which alone constitutes — what my poor friend, .1. Cypress, Junior, used to call the rarest work of nature — a truly cool, truly quick, crack shot. With regard to hunting dogs on Quail, there is a great deal to be said ; and in nothing is the tnie and thoroughbred sports- man moi'e distinctly marked from the cockney pot-hunter, than by his skill, temper, and success, in managing his four-footed companions. Quail shooting, as the most difficult of all shooting, and re- quiring the greates*" ^iitural qualifications, and most perfect training in the dog, tli^ nands also the greatest science in the person who hunts the dog. The great desiderata here are, first, to know precisely what a dog ought to do, — and, second, to make him do it. In this country, far more sportsmen fail in the first — in Eng- land more in the second particular. It were scarce too much to say, that four sportsmen, in their own opinion, 7iere, out of five, know so little what are the re- quisite perfoiTOances and capabilities of a dog, that within twelve months after buying a perfectly well-broke dog, they permit him to lose all he has ever known, merely fi-om failing tc exercise his abilities, and punish his eccentricities. U 1 t . ) : H ! * 1 s ■■ 238 FRAMK forester's FIELD SPORTS. As In nil other ttiition, reward and punisliment must luttli he brou'^lit into play; but it is a great thing to remember tliat, wliilo a dog should ncrer be allowed to disobey an oi'der, or to commit a fault unpunished, it is well neither to harass him by unnecessary commands, nor to tempt into faults by over exac- tion Moreover, a dog cannot be managed with too littlie shouting. He should be accustomed always to obey the whistle ; and he will very soon learn to understand the meaning invariably attached to any combinations of that sound, turning his head to observe the gesture of your hand, by which ho may be directed to beat this way or that, to back his fellow's point, or to down- charge — the signal for the two latter duties being the same, — the hand held aloft, with an erect arm, open, with the palm facing the dog, the fingers closed, but the thumb extended. This motion ought to arrest a dog at the top of his speed, the instant his attention is called to it, as suddenly as if he were shot dead ; and the advantages gained from the strictest enforce- ment of the rule, are too palpable to demand liirthcr comment. If, therefore, a Setter, or Pointer, is broke to- lie down im- mediately to charge, on the firing of a shot, and to turn his head at every whistled call of his master, thereafter obeying one or two simple gestures, the necessity for roaring like a bull of Bashan, as is the practice of most dog-breakers, and all cockney sportsmen, will be entirely obviated. The advantages of which will be, that you will not flush four-fifths of all the game within hearing, nor drive your fellow sportsmen crazy, if they happen to be blessed with nerves ; and not render yourself as hoarse as a waterman on a hackney-coach stand, by bellowing out orders, which your dog, nine times out of ten, cannot hear, being to windward of you. A shrill ivory whistle should always be hung from the button- hole of the jacket, and a heavy dog-whip invariably earned in the pocket ; but, although neither of these, in their way highly useful implements, should be suffered to enjoy a sinecure, it is almost unnecessary to observe that of the last, even more than If IT' UPLAND SHOOTING. 339 of tlio lirst, the real utility will be greatly diminished by too freqiu'i.t appUcatiuii I shall have farther occasion to speak of the iTianan;ement of dogs, and indeed of the habits and mode of shooting (.^uail like- wise, under the head of " General Autumn Shooting," which will follow the few remarks I shall proceed to make on Pin- nated and Ruffed Grouse shooting, as pi'actised apart from the pursuit of other game. VOL. I. 18 ^ I ■ I I I 1! :«■• Hi; I ! I uo FRANK FonESTEu'a FIELD SPOKTS. RUFFED GROUSE SHOOTING. VULOO, PAUTRIUOE SHOOT I NO, T was my misfortutio onct once only, i^ontlo reader — iti my life, to be seduced into underfa- kinof an excursion vorv lato in the season, a few days only be- fore Cluistmas, into the inferior of Connecticut, for the especial pui*pose of shooting the Ruffed Grouse, or as it is there tei'med. Partridge. I went on the representation of a friend, who while Cock- shootini; on that {jround, early in the autumn, before the leaves wer • down, had moved an immense number of tiiese birds, which were then in broods with the old hen. He assured me, as he fully expected would prove the case, that we should cer- tainly get twenty or thirty fair shots each, daily ; and in consecjuence I looked for great sport. The result was, that, although we had two brace of as good Setters as any in the country, and fagged steadily and resolute- ly during four successive days, we bagged seven birds between us ; two only over points ; and certainly did not fire altogether, at snap shots and long range, above ten or eleven shots. On other occasions, once or twice, I have been persuaded, contrary to my opinion, to go out of my way to beat for Ruffed Grouse, or to devote a day to their especial pursuit, but I never in any one case have been successful. once — • — in my undertii- y liitf in only l»e- < iiitcrinr especial le Rufft-a lu Cock- he leaves [sc birtls, ured me, lould cer- and in as good I rcsoliite- between Itogether, lots. On I contrary Grouse, 31- in any UPLAND .;nOf)TING. 241 The RiifFed flrouse, after tlic liroods have separated and left the hens, are the wildest and most wary hirds I have ever pur- sued, when the woody nature of the haunts which they afVct is taken into considiMiitiou. They have also tlie most ramhliii'^ hahit of any American game-bird, except the Turkey ; it not being an uncommon thing for the single birds, or the small companies into which they sometimes form themselves, to wander on the foot, without taking wing at all, ten or twelve miles, at a stretch, over rough hills and through deep wood- lands. Add to this, that their fivorite res(U'ts are tlitj steep ledgy s'des of rocky hills, covered with thick wood, and that generally of evergreens, as pine, hemlock, or red ceda'-, with an undergrowth of the great mountain rhododendron, com- monly known as laurel. It is the characJ^eristic of this soil of woodland, that, while the foliage is very thick and intricate above, on a level with the breast and eyes of the sportsman, it is for the most part perfectly open and clear below; so that while the hunter has the greatist difficulty in seeing his birds, the birds have none whatever in seeing him or his dogs. They consequently start on the fidl run — and he who has tried to secure one when wing-tipped or slightly wounded, without the aid of dog, knows what pace that is — the moment th(> sports- man enters the wood ; and after keeping the dogs trailing and reading on their scent for a mile or two, either ftap up unper- ceived into a tree, or take wing at a hundred yards' distance ; and in either case get away unshot at. On this account, they are the most trying bird to the temper of a dog that possibly can be imagined, as it is comparatively speaking of very rare occurrence that they will lie to be pointed, and flushed over the point. The exception to this rule is where they are found, which is rarely the case, in low, swampy thickets of heavy covert, in level country. In such places, if you have the luck to find them, you are almost certain of great sport ; for, where the ground is thick and tangled at the bottom, they will squat. ,, I , III' ill ';( ! ITPT Im 249 FRANK forester's FIELD SPOI^TS. m i I ■»; : f fintling tliemselves unable to run, and will lie, on such occa- sions, till they are literally kicked uji. I have never, in all my experience of shooting in this coun- try, seen this occur but twice ; and in fact the bird is so seldom found in lowland country, thnt I consider it utterly useless to go out in pursuit of Ruffed Grouse, except as an adjunct with other birds of bolder and freer wing. One of the instances I have alluded to above, is perhaps not unworthy of notice, as I believe it to be almost uni(|ue ; for I have met no sportsman who has seen any thing of the sort occur with the Ruffed Grouse, though with the Praiiie Hen it often liappens. It occui'red during early autumn shooting, on the second or third of November, immediately after the law of New-Jersey permits this bird and the Quail to be shot ; and Woodcock had not as yet foi-saken the country. I was beating fi)r game in general, but rather with a view to Co(;k than any other bird, in a long, narrow swale, between a steep ridge and an open meadow, along the edge of which my companion wns walking, while I myself made good the whole width of the alder coppice with my dogs. Suddenly both the Setters came to a dead point at a small patch of thick briars and brambles close to the meadow fence, and, on my walking uji to them, finding that nothing moved, I took it for granted that it was a Hare, and called out to my friend to look out, as I would beat it out to him. On kicking the briars, however, to my great surprise a very fine Ruffed Grouse, a cock bird, rose within ten feet of me, and flew directly across me toward the hill. Unfortunately, my friend fired at the bird across me, contrary to all rules of spoit-manship, so that two charges were wasted on this bird ; for immediately, at the report, three more birds rose out of the same brake, two of which flew across liim over the open meadow, both of which he must have killed had he reserved his fire, as he should have done, while the third follow- ed the cock across the swale to the ridge, till I stopped him. Taking it for granted that all the birds must have gone now, four barrels having been fired directly over the thicket in whic? i. UPLAND SHOOTINC. 21; they lay, 1 made some observation to my rompaiiioii about liis rjishne.ss in firing; when three more birds whirred out ot' tlie same busli in (juick succession, and of course got a\v:iy utishut at, all our barrels being empty. After I had loaded, yet an eighth bird got up a few yards ahead, having crept out, T imagine, while the dogs were at doAni charge, and I was foitu- nate enough to kill it also— thus bringing four IlulVed CJ rouse to bag, which were sprung one by one, or very nearly so, out of a thicket less than thirty feet in circumference. AVe ought certainly to have got one more bird, at h-ast ; and hiid \vi' been as silent as we should, might possibly have bagged them all, for they all rose within four or five yards of our gun-muzzles, and the place was quite open and fair shooting ground. I never saw a more evident proof of the great propriety, and great gain, of attending strictly to the most minute rules at sportsmanship and woodcraft ; like laws of military tactics, they can never be violated with impunity ; and though we ob- serve them ninety-nine times, the violation on the hundredth will almost certainly prove disastrous. I know an instance of a good sportsman in the city of New- York, whose name I do not record, giving him the credit of a remarkable feat; because, being in business, it might injure him among those gentry of the street, who think no hunting but dollar-hunting rcsjK'ctable ! who actually brought to bag eight Pinnated Grouse, in succession, without himself mcning from his ground, or his dog breaking its point. This occurred, some years since, on Martha's Vineyard ; but, as I have observed before, I know no authentic instance of the Rufled G rouse ever lying in the same manner, after the separation of the broods. Before that period, iliey of course lie to the dog as the Quail, the Prairie Hen, or the Grouse of the British Isles. Hence, I consider the day fixed by our legislature for the end of close time, as too late in regard to the Ruffed Grouse. The constantly repeated tale, that the Ruffed Grouse when it alights in trees in companies, which it occasionally will do, in the spring, when eating the young buds, of which it is extremely il * H. !i I! m :l ' t ' ; i i 1 1 ij:!: i| 1 ■>, ' t '; ii V. 214 FRANK FORESTKK's FIELD SPOKTS. f )ncl, will allow the wliole flock to 1)0 shot down, ono liy one, witliout stirring', jjrovided the shooter* takes the precaution of shooting that which sits the lowest on the tree, first, is as fabu- lous, as it is, on the lace, ridiculous. Ml-. Audubon notes this fact, with his wonted accuracy; addinu: that during heavy snow stomis he has sometimes killed three or four. This is credible enough ; starvation will make any bird or beast tame, and snow appears, while ialUng, to have a peculiar cflbct on birds of this order — unlike rain, which makes them wild — rendering them very unwilling to rise. — San/Ln's in this region of country — I can desii^niate them by no other name — often shoot whole bevies of Quail while huddled together on the ground in their little circles, during snow 6to ms, in this manner, at a single shot. So far, however, are such foul practices from deserving to be recorded as modes of killing game, that I only speak of them here, in order to u])hold them, and all who practice them, to the contempt and abhor- rence of every oiie who would l)e termed a sportsman. I have been told that these birds exist in such abundance on the Kaatskills, and in all that region of country, that it is well worth the while to go out in pursuit of them, witlR)ut reference to, or nither with no chance of finding any other species of game. This I, at least, shall never attempt ; nor shall I ever advise any person to do so. I know that they abounded in that district of Connecticut of which I have spoken above, as was proved by the fact that many scores were offered to me for purchase, which had been snared, yet it was impossible to get shots at them over do'j^s. Again, throughout the semi-cultivated portions of all the Eastern States, and especially in Maine, the woods are literally full of them ; yet such are their peculiarities of habit, that it is useless to attempt to have sport with them. A man, stealing along the old grassy wood roads, keeping absolute silence and a bright look out, may manage to ])ick u}) a brace or two in the course of a day, and this is probably more than the best sports- man living can effect with the best dogs, iu that region of coun- try ; but that is not sport for sportsmen ! UPLAND SHOOTING. 2iL The Rulfecl Grouse is a singularly handsome bird, whether rui the ground or on the wing ; looking, from the looseness a'ld downy habit of his feathers, considerably larger than he really is. He rises with a very loud whirring of his wings — which Mr, Audubon asserts so positively, that I must suppose so accu- rate an observer to be surely correct, to be uttered merely at moments of alarm and sudden trepidation, the bird when not forced to take wing, rising noiselessly — and gets under way with extreme rapidity. In general, this bird does not rise much higher than a man's head, and then flies very straight, and very swiftly, at an even elevation for several hundred yards; alter which it will set both its wings, and sail dead before the wind with immense velocity. To kill the Rull'ed Grouse, when thus skating down-wind, as it crosses you, having been flushed at a distance, it is necessary to allow a considerable space for the swiftness of its motion ; and I should fire not less than two feet in front of one, at thirty-five or forty yards' distanc(\ Going directly away from the gun, the Rutfed Grouse, like the Quail, is an awkward bird to kill, from the fact, that they both fly with the body so nearly level, that the rump and hard bones of the back receive the shot ; and in this part of the body they will have to be struck very heavily, before they will fall. Tt is a good plan in this position to shoot a little low, as you are far more apt to over than to under-shoot them. A cross shot, if not too far off, is easily killed ; as the bird affords a fair mark, and will not carry olf nearly so much shot as the Quail, if struck well forward. Beginners are apt to shoot behind all their cross shots, and perhaps especially so at this bird, his long tail and loose feathers tendinis to deceive them. It is a matter of exceeding surprise to me, that this bird has not been naturalized in Great Britain. Its extreme hardihood would render its success certain ; and in every part of the coun- try, but in the woodland and forest counties especially, Dorset shire, Devonshire, parts of Essex, the New Forest, throuijhout Wales, and in many distncts of the North Country, and Scot- i. M. ^ i ■', I ■ \ 1^ n 246 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. land, it would very soon become abundant. Indeed, the hedge- rows wouhl be sufficient to hold it, everywhere ; and Irom what I have seen, and stated above, of its habits in the low ground* ?i,ere, I do not doubt that it would there afford sport equal to any English bird, except the Red Grouse. Its flesh is delicious, if dressed properly. It will bear to be kept hanging, in the autumn, two or three weeks with manifest advantage ; it slwuld be roasted quickly, before an extremely hot fire ; and it should be exposed at once to the full heat, at a short distance, so as to sear the pores of the skin, and prevent the exudation of the juices ; after a few minutes it may be withdrawn from the focus of heat, until it shall be cooked through. It should be eaten, as should the Grouse and Quail, with hread sauce and fried crunibs, — any sort of jelly, or sweet condiment, with any galli- naceous fowl, or any meat that is not immoderately fat and lus- cious, is an abomination. As a variety, either this bird, or the Quail, is delicious larded, boiled, and smothered in celery sauce ; and the Quail, en j^assant be it said, is undeniable in a pie, with a fat rump steak at the bottom of the dish, a dozen hard-boiled eggs, and the slightest possible soupgoN of garlic and one cayenne pepper-pod. If intended to be eaten cold, both birds are better boiled than roasted ; as they will be found on trial much juicier, and less dry, than in the usual mode. The plan resorted to by French cooks, who never know how to cook any sort of game, except in salmis, or the like, of blan- keting these birds in pork fat, cut thin, before roasting them, is, of course, entirely wrong. It prevents the gi'and desideratum, namely, the searing of the skin, so as to make it contain the na- tural juices ; and, instead of its own game gravy, saturates it with the essential oil of pig. The epicure will prefer the back-bone and thighs of this deli- cious bird ; and, by saving them for himself, he will also gain the credit of great disinterestedness from the ladies, and the snobs, — Heaven forbid that I should intend a comparison, in thus uniting them ! but it is a fact that they both invariably [icdge- n wliat rouiuU to any ious, if in the . slwuld , slioukl so as to of the be focus e eaten, 1(1 fried iiy galli- and lus- 1, or the [1 celei-y ble in a a dozen f garlic iled than and less low how of blan- Ithem, ia, tleratum, [i the na- irates it this deli- |ilso gain and the Irison, in Uariably UPLAND SHOOTING. 247 prefer tlio hosom, as l 'nellove it is the fashion of these initdest days to term the wliite meat. For the benefit of what the French are pleased to call amphi- tryons, the excellent men who arc rich enough to giro good dinners, and of the happy men who are allowed to luit them, I will add, that red wine is the thinu: with jjame of all kinds. The right thing of all is Chamhertbi, ov clo.s de Voitgcot ! but, in default of these, a sound Lafitte or Latour claret is excel- lently well in place. Champagne is not tlio thing in the least ; and, tor those who aspire to feed themselves or their friends creditably, without aiming at the expense of the costly French red wines, allow me to suuryest, that a glass of tjood "fold sherry is perfectly allowable with game. Except at a ball supper, no one, except counter-jumpers, ever think of champagne, beyond one tumbler with the roti. The next thing to killing your game handsomely, after find- ing it gnostically, is undoubtedly knowing how to set it on the table, for the benefit of your friends, in perfection, and with the pi'oper accessories; and a hint or two on this subject m ly be pardoned, even in a work on field sports, — especially where such abominations are practiced, as eating Snipe and Woodcock high, drawing the trail, and broiling them ; and eating currant, or plum jelly, with roast Grouse ; or cranberries with venison. Nothing in my eyes is more contemptible, than the man who cannot rough it upon occasion, — who cannot dine heartily, and with a relish, on a bit of cold salt pork, and a cmst of bread, when he can get nothing better ; but nothing is more stupidly, or hopelessly savage, than the man who does not care what he eats. In the code of game-cookery, the gridiron is an article of the kitchen prohihitcd, unless in the case of a venison steak, a Bear chop, or a Wild Duck. To broil a Quail, or a Grouse, much more a Snipe, or a Woodcock, ought to be made — Xikcfrijing a beefsteak — death without benefit of clergy. \i "^\ ■ ' : ! I 1 i^ X w ' ! t !l ' i lli , , MM ■ 248 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. GROUSE SHOOTING m •^'^i.^!. ' SI ■ /:::l^ i-i: HIS noble sport I havo never myself had an opportunity of enjoying, tbouirh I still live in the hope of fiii'liinr myself 'onsome fine autumnal morning, in tlie Western Prairies, with two or three brace of good dogs, a staunch compan- ion, and all appurtenances suitable for a month's sport. They are in all respoets the noblest biid, which is to be shot over Pointers in tluf United States ; and the vast numbers in which they are still found in their own l^'ai- rie-land, the magnificent range of country which is spread out be- fore the eye of the sportsman, the openness of the shooting, and the opportunity of ol)serving all the motions of the dogs, must render this sport, like the Red Grouse shooting in Groat Britain, tlie (iueeu of American field sports. in the state of New Jersey a few packs of these fine birds still breed annually among the sandy pine barrens along the southern shore ; the best of these shooting grounds arc now exclusively oc- cupied by three or four gentlemen resident in the vicinity of Bur- lington, Bordentown, and Trenton, who either rent or have pur- chased them for the purpose of sporting thereon, and on the pre- tence of wishing to preserve them. I say the pretence, for I grieve to say that no feeling of chivalrous sportsnumsliip deti-r these gentlemen, some of whom are excellent shots, from buteh- cring these noble birds even in the month of .luly. when they are utterly unfit for killing ; and for this outrage on sportsman- ship ami humanity, there is the less palliation — excuse or justifi- cation, there never can beany — in that occupying the grounds ex- clusively, they are safe from the apprehension of Ix-ing antieipa- t.M.l by poachers or pot-hunters. Why, then, they should them- ! ■ myself :, tlion!:li rr. in tlio or tlirce conipan- itublc tVir noblest itcs ; mill )wn Pnii- d out hc- itiniT, and 0('s, must t Britain, birds still ! southern isively oc- ty of ]]ur- have pur- n the pre- nco, for 1 ■undant. I have heard the very same sort of talk held by count rynu-n, in defence of the vile practice of shooting Woodcock in spring, where there were then thousands of those birds. The c(»nse- quencc of that talk is, that there are now none in those regions. The truth is, that until the middle of Scptcnibor, the young birds are not very strong on the wing, — after that period they become gradually wilder and stronger, and take longer llights, some- times even to the distance of two or three miles in open country. Their flight is less rapid than that of the Rulfed Grouse, though of the same character. It does not make set loud a whirring as it first rises, but once on the wing, uses the same straight even course, maintained for some distance by frequent beats of the wings, after which it will float foi several hundred yards at a time on balanced pinions, with the velocity gathered fi'om its previous course. It is said very rarely to pass over the person who flushes it, even by the most sudden surprise. It feeds on stubbles and in maize-fields, and is to be hunted for in the vicinity of such gi'ounds, where it will be found in the greatest abundance. On open prairie-grounds, the highest and sjjeediest rangers are, of coui'se, the best dogs ovei- which to shoot the Grouse, as is the case with the Scottish red game, provided always that the animal has good nose enough to stand them at a long distance, and is staunch enough to allow the sportsman to come up from a distance, without moving on, or flushing his birds. }' ' UPLAND SHOOTING. 263 ruber. Iiii— .y tho L'tl an- 1, OVlT 'cisely \ Mill )l"uill)l0 II ml ant. rynu'U, springf coiisc- legions. iicjf birds become ^, somo- L-ountry. ]r rouse, loud a le same 'refluent lunidreil cratliered over the iC. c luiiited nd in tlie rhcst and which to ;d game, to stand allow the ng on, or I ilnould prcsumo that, for firouse shooting in gomtral, tlie Pointer w<»iilrc<'inirient merit that lie can endure more hours of thirst, than any other of tlie dog kind. The Seftor, on the con- traiy, very 8])eedily loses his power of scenting, and »oou iifter- wards his who'e eniM'gy and strength, in hot weatlier, wlii?r« wafer \s not to he obtained. For this reason, to the J'^astward, in New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, in all of which, brush plains, pines, and oak barrens, the soil is e(pially dry aiirl sterik-, fho Poiiit(,'r is as mtich preferred, as he is in thi; simihirly dry Par- tridge sliooting of England. Tlie Ihitisli moors, on which tliu Tied and Black Grouse are found, abound with spring>t, well- heads, brooks, and morasses, and on these; the gieilter speed, daring, and dash of tlu; Setter, as well as the advantage he; do- rives from his well-protected haiiy feet, gives him the call decidedly over his smooth-haired rival. Mr. Audubon observes on this point, " In the westi-rn coun- try they rarely stand befiue the Pointer; and I think the Setter a more profitable dog tlu^re ;" but I must confess myself entirely at a loss to comprehend the meaning oi this passage. In Europe, it is very true that the Setter naturally crouches close to the ground, falling flat on his belly when he comes on the scent of his game even at full speed, and flattejiing himself the nearer to the earth, the nearer he is to his game, while the Pointer invariably stands ei'ect to point his game. If this distinction held good in this country, the meaning of the above passage would be clear, but such is not the case. There is no difference whatsoever, of which I am aware, in the style of Pointers and Setters finding and pointing their game on this side the Atlantic. I have always shot over Setters, pre- ferring them, by all odds, for general work, and have owned at least a dozen good ones myself since I have been in the country, besides shooting over scores belonging to other persons, and I never in a single instance have seen a Setter set a bird in America. This is not a distinction of training but of natural i r I <1 mA 254 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. habit in the races ; and it is worthy of remark that the best dog I ever owned here was one which I imported from England when a small pup, and had broke in New Jersey. I never saw either his dam or his sire, over both which I shot in Eng- land, po/w/; a bird, and I never saw him set one. The first bird he ever scented was a Woodcock, on the fourth of July, and that he stood, with head and stem high in the air, as showily as I ever saw a Pointer stand. Nothing has ever puzzled me more completely as regards field sports than this fact, and I cannot figure to myself any reason that is at all satisfactory for the difference of habit, in the two countries. I have sometimes fancied that it might arise from soil or climate rendering the scent colder here than in England — for it is certain that the hotter the scent, the closer the dog sets — ^but I cannot see that this holds good by analogy, as I think dogs find and point their game fully as far off here as in Europe. This obseiTation of Mr. Audubon's has brought the matter, at this moment strongly to my mind, and has almost raised a doubt within me, whether to the Westward the Setter may not possibly resume his natural inclination to set rather than stand his game. In wooded regions it is to be remarked, that these birds are rai'ely if ever to be found among open groves and tall timber, such as are peculiarly loved by the Ruffed Grouse ; they fre- quent tracts of low bushes and stunted underwood ; and when on the wing will fly for miles rather than alight until they can find a clear place, such as an old road-way, or a new cutting, in which to settle. They generally run forward swiftly as soon as they strike the ground, and not unfrequently press themselves into thick covert, where they squat, and are compelled to lie hard by the difficulty which they experience in taking wing, fi'om the opposition of the dense foliage. They are a shy bird in covert ; and are of course much wilder to the Eastward, where they are incessantly persecuted, than in the Western Country. 3St clog Ingland [ never n Eng- rst bird ily, and )wily as regards self any habit, in ght arise than in le closer analogy, I- off bere le matter, raised a may not Ihan stand birds are lU timber, they fre- and when they can cutting, in as soon as hemselves lUed to lie ing wing, urse much jersecuted. 1 T7PLAND SHOOTING. 255 Tho (Irouse invariably makes a clucking noise when it takes win;^ 1)ofiire a dog, and if it rises within distance, is a very easy shot. No. 8 early in the season, and later No. 5, are tlie best sizes of shot. Alter that, I should prefer re/ Ely's cartridgtjs, of No. 5 shot, wliich I will be bound to say will fetch them from a good twelve or fourteen guagc gun of proper weiij^ht, held by a cjuick hand, and levelled by a true eye, at any period of the season. Mr. Audubon observes, contrary to the remarks cited above from Wilson and Dr. Mitchill, that the Gi-ouse drinks when in a state of nature, like the common fowl, and farther, that it is exceedingly suscejitible of domestication, even lu'eeding ireely in captivity. The remarks with regard to beating with dogs for the Quail and Ruffed Grouse, and for shooting both these birds on the wing, exce[)t so for as they are here modified, are all applica- ble to the Prairie or Heath-Hen. The flesh of this bird is not white, like that of the Ruffed Grouse, but red, like that of the Scottish Moor Fowl, which in many respects it resembles. It has more of the bitter taste than the Ruffed Grouse, and is, in my opinion, a decidedly superior bird. It will bear to be hung for some days, or even weeks in cold weather, and is to be cooked and eaten accord- ing to the direction given under the last head. In conclusion, it is well to state here, that there is certainly no distinction whatsoever between the Heath-Hen of Long Island and Martha's Vineyard, the Grouse of the pines and scrub oaks of New Jersey and Pennsylvania, and the Prairie- Hen of the West. They are all one and the same bird — the Pinnated Grouse, Tctrao Cupido, of the ornithologist, and emphatically the Grouse of the sportsman. Of the Canada, or Spotted Grouse, it is in vain to sjjeak, for he is not as yet to be shot, and I apprehend never will be, in sporting style. The ground in which to find him is the deep larch and cedar woods, especially the former, of Maine, Nova VOL. I. 19 ' . I J I; ;» 'li i \ I 1 IC •\ ^ t 1 1' if ■ 11 rn ■ !ll»'i « ■ VM 256 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. Scotia and New Brunswick, and if anywhere he exists in suffici- ent numbers to render the pursuit of hira exciting as a sport, I have no doubt that the dogs over which to shoot him would be well broke Cocking Spaniels. I believe that the flesh of this species is the most highly flavor- ed of all the varieties of Grouse which we possess, though I but once had an opportunity of tasting it. It is said to be very bitter, which I presume to be that spicy, aromatic game flavor which gives the ze.st to the Grouse above all other birds, in the eyes of the true epicure. Thus far, with some few exceptions, * had written in my first edition of this work — these exceptions arc the correction of two or three positive and palpable errors in relation to the growth, size, and seasons of this admirable bird. I am still mysolf of opinion, that in the main the spirit and letter of what is above set down will be found correct ; but having had the good fortune to receive a very interesting original communication from a gentle- man of distinction and zealous sportsmanship in the South-West, I hasten, with sincere acknowledgments of his kindness, to insert his letter entire, certain that it will be read by all sportsmen with pleasure and profit, and that its statements and opinions may be received with perfect reliance on their correctness and fidelity. 1 have only to add that the handsome present of game, to which reference is made below, arrived in perfect condition, and were dealt with in perfect accordance with the desire of the obliging donor. I cannot, however, coincide with his views, as T still think — though I admit that a broiled Grouse is good enough — that it is much inferior to one I'oasted before a very brisk coal or wood fire — I do not mean baked in an oven, which is very often called roasting — and served, slightly underdone, with bread sauce. All jelly or sweet sauce with Grouse are an abomination. I have not yet had the good fortune of being able to comply with my friend's kind invitation to participate individually in the noble sport of the prairies, though I earnestly hope to do so ero many autumns have elapsed ; nor had I the pleasure to see his • ■■'.. ' i : ' UPI.ANn PIIOOTINa. 257 friend, Mr. M., although I should have rejoiced to sec and con- fer with him on the subject of the sports of the South-VVest, of which I have seen too little, while 1 desire so greatly personally to participate in them. I may also add that J have learned from good sportsmen of the West, that the objection against the use of pointers, lies in the inability of their thin-skinned legs and bare- soled feet to endure the wear and tear of the prairie grass. St. Louis, Mo., Jamiary 2dth, 1849. Sir : — Not only are an author's works the property of the pub- lic, but his readers become in some degree his acquaintances. Ho addresses his readers familiarly, sometimes almost affection- ately, especially when, as in your case, the subject is such as to establish a kind of free-masomry between him and all true lovers of the dog and gun. Having read both your original works and your tran-slations, I feel as if I had some right to address you without the formality of an introduction. I wish to thank you for the additions you have made to our knowledge in sporting matters, and to say how heartily I, in coumiuu with all who wish to perpetuate the manly and healthful sports of the field, concur with you in opinion of the desirableness of some measure of legislation which may arrest the rapid destruction of the noble birds which yet adorn our prairies and forests, and which will render it penal — it ought to be infamous — to kill game either in the breeding season or before the young birds have acquired full strength of wing. I have been particularly struck with the article on Grouse shoot- ing, .in vol. 1, and scq., p. 248, of your" Field Sports." With the principles which actuate you I entirely concur. But, as I con- ceive, you are slightly inaccurate in several particulars of the natural history of the Pinnated Grouse : and this has led you into error — as I think — in fixirtg the time — middle of October — when Grouse shooting ought to begin. Secondly, I think you are gastrononiically wrong when you speak of the only mode in which the Grouse, when legitimately killed, should be cooked for the rational epicure. In my opinion T * I H i \ V] I, ' 14 i 1 lii f »^ li : ' l| 1 1- i: 1 11 «i ' 1 i !^i III 258 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. you have not indicated the best mode of proparing him for tho table ; of which n)ore will be said presently. I will state the reasons for my dissent from your views ; and you must bear with me if I am tedious. You say, vol. 1, p. 249, " About the first of August the young are about equal in size to the Quail," &e. I speak for the West only in what follows. There may be a difference in the habits of the birds here and in the Atlantic States ; I am inclined to think there is. I am of opinion that the months of -April and May arc warmer, and September and October are colder in Missouri and Illinois than in Maryland. My professional engagements — I am a lawyer — prevent my giving to the habits of the Grouse the study to which my tastes incline lue. I cannot say, with accuracy, at what time their nests are finished, or their broods hatched. But the young birds are much larger than Quail on the first of July ; and in this condition, scarcely able to flutter out of the grass, they are, to the disgrace of all participants in or encouragers of the atrocity, killed in great numbers, sold dearly, and eaten greedily. At this time the flesh is white, tender, and tasteless. I do not desire you to hold your hand from smiting " Tom Trigor," and all who are like unto him, according to their de- serts. But if he speaks of the Grouse in the States of Illinois and Missouri, he is as far wrong in his attempts to give their natu- ral history as he is wanting in every feeling of the sportsman, in the article which you quote from him. My own experience is op- posed to everything he says on the subject of Grouse shooting, as it exists in this neighborhood. I have shot Grouse in the first week of August, — this was before I knew better, and I will never do it again, — in the middle of that month, at the close of it, ia all of Sfptember, in October, and November. I condemn, as decidedly as any one, the shooting of any bird of game before it is strong on the wing. I consider the first of August too early for Grouse shooting, yet I can assure you there is good sport by the middle of that month. The birds are of full size, full fledged, UPLAND SHOOTING. 259 strong on the wing, and hereabouts, at least, wllJ enough at tiui'^s during that month to task the best gun that ever was fired. Tli) sport is best, however, in September and October. During these montlis the killing heat of the summer weather, which sometimes proves fatal to men, and frequently to dogs and horses on the prairie, is moderated ; the birds acquire an increase of strength, but not of size, and get under way in a shorter time after rising than during the summer. They do not lie so well before the dog, but the scent of the Grouse seems so stronjj, that mo>t pointers stand at the distance of from ten to twenty yards fr(nn them, unless in very warm weather: and it is certainly much more satisfactory to bag a wild, wary bird than to secure a tame victim. After the cold weather we sometimes have on the prai- ries early in September, the Grouse will sometimes rise for days together entirely out of range. But in those days, either of Sep- tember or October, when the morning is chill and frosty, and the middle of the day calm and warm, the best Grouse shooting of the whole year may be had. If they are driven from the corn and stubble fields at this time, just as they have completed their morning feed, marked down in the open prairie, and let alone for an hour or two, the sport is really magnificent. It is not uncom- mon at such times, to find them scattered over a space ranging from 20 to 60 acres. Not more than two or three will be found so near together as to be flushed at the same time, and very often they are pointed singly. They rise, to be sure, with a strong pinion, and get under way in an instant, but still they cannot be termed hard to kill, I think. I never shoot smaller shot at Grouse than No. 6, and after the tenth of September I shoot No. 5. When No. 8 or No. 7 will stop them, they are too young to be shot at all. The instances are comparatively few of their flying ofi" with their death wound, whereas nothing is more common than for the Quail to do this. There is little oceasinii for shooting the birds at a greater distance than fortv yards, and the bulk of the shots are at birds within thirty yards, during the month of September. In October it is sometimes otherwise, but M >■} I i \ i I ■ : \ H m ! I ;■ I ! 1i!' 3 ! 260 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. the wildncss of the bird at this time is greatly exaggerated. If men will go into the fields, rating their dogs loudly, and talking and laughing with each other, the birds will be wild of course. But throughout the three fall months, except on some few days, the Grouse are not too wild to be hunted with the dog in suitable weather. Thei-e are some exceptions, however, and 1 have even known them to occur in August. After the 15th of that month it is difficult to distinguish the young birds from the old by their weight, or even their plumage ; and it certainly is almost impos- sible to distinguish any but the most backward broods on the wing. The difference between the general size of the birds and that of a backward brood is very appreciable. It is a difference, not of one or two weeks, but of more than a month. No sports- man is excusable who does not spare such a feeble prey. I was in the field on the 14th and 15th of last August, about 30 miles from St. Louis ; and on the evenings of both days, and the morning of one of them, we were disappointed of our expected sport by reason of the wildness of the birds, although the weather was warm and cloudy. None of the birds we killed were too young — that is, we killed none which, either flying, or lying at our feet, or in our hands, could be distinguished from the old birds without a reference to marks, which would be as obvious in September or October as they then were. We used No. 5 shot, and made many shots outside of forty yards. The number of these birds brought to St. Louis and consumed annually is almost incredible. From the month of October to the end of February thousands are brought to St. Louis every week. Many find their way to New Orleans, Louisville, and Cincinnati. At the present rate of destruction they cannot last long ; and such is the antipathy to laws for the preservino- ot game, that I almost desp-^"- of any legislation in their favor. There is one ground of iiope, and that is not very assured. It arises from the importance of this bird to the farmer. Within late years the numbers and depredations of grasshoppers in the :| I If UPLAND SHOOTING. 261 prairie farms Lave greatly increased. It is necessary to see the clouds of this insect which sometimes infest our fields, to realize the stories that arc told us of the ravages of the locust in other lands. Now the increase of the numbers of the grasshopper has been found to keep pace with the destruction of the Prairie Hen or Grouse ; and, it may be, that some step may be taken by the Legislature of Illinois, prohibiting the killing of these birds bj a law which would equally benefit the farmer and tend to pre- serve one of our noblest game birds. In July, the flesh of the Grouse is white, tender, and insipid. When the bird has attained his full size, his flesh is dark all over the body. I have heard some persons — of the class you mention as preferring the breast to the thighs and back bone of the ruf- ffod Grouse — insist that the bird was better when in its half-grown state than at any later period. I am decidedly of opinion, that until the Grouse arrives at its full size, its flavor is not per- fect, and that the bird is finer and fatter, comminihus annis, in January, than any other month. I have been told by two of the best and keenest sportsmen of my acquaintance, that in the prai- ries remote not only from the cities, but farms, where the chief food of the Grouse consists of grasshoppers, prairie grass and grass seeds, the flesh has a peculiar and very fine flavor. This may be so, but I have never had any opportunity of testing it. I now proceed to my second point. I am unalterably of opin- ion that you are wrong about the mode of cooking the Grouse. I have fairly tried all your recipes, with a wish to be convinced of their excellence, and I am free to say that roast Grouse with bread sauce is not unsavory. But it hides its diminished head before Grouse properly broiled, served up very hot, and eaten from hot plates. I fear you are rather bigoted on this subject. Much theorising has hardened your heart. With the purpose of inducing you to review your — hasty — opinions on this vital point, and correct the errors of speculation by the lessons of experi- mental philosophy, I take the liberty of sending you six brace of Grouse, the freshest and finest I could select on this occasion. I 1 -J-^ J 1 ' : ' 1 ■1 J ■ i •J ; ; ' i :■ I 3 i i 1 1m: ^ it! I m ill 262 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. have caused them to be packed in a basket, which is the best moans I am aware of — except hanging them outside of the vehich^ which carries them, and that is unsafe — of preserving them from becoming high. I hope they will reach you safely and in good order. Have one of these birds broiled quickly, ratlier under- done, as a canvass-back duck should be roasted ; let it be pep- pered and salted to your taste, and as it is removed from the gridiron to the hot dish, let it be just touched with a little butter. Eschew all sweet sauces — ^jclly, &c., and eat it with notliing but good bread, 48 hours out of the oven. Should this experiment not please you, try another one of the birds on the gridiron ; but if that too is a failure in your estimation, e'en have the rest cooked scion votre — mauvais 1 — gout. I conclude this very long letter with the expression of a hope that you will be induced to try for yourself what Grouse shooting on our prairies is good for. The journey is nothing. Any one who has the time, can enjoy it pleasantly here if he is fond of field sports. St. Louis is the best head(parters for a sportsman in the whole country, I verily believe. You will find here a cordial welcome, and I should be very much pleased to receive you as my guest. My professional engagements are so confining that I can but seldom enjoy the pleasure of shooting ; for our courts are in constant session during the whole of the hunting season, after the 3d Monday of September ; but before that time I am comparatively at liberty, and there are others here, of greater leisure to indulge in field sports, but not more keen in their pur- suit, who will rejoice to contribute to render pleasant the visit to the West of a sportsman whom every other one in America knows by reputation at least. I am, sir, very respectfully, Your obedient servant, T. T. G**** Henry William Herbert, Esq., at the Cedars, New Jersey. f • 1 i . j. ; ' ■ ! ; ; ; ' i i : I 11" courts r season. r THT ^MHU I ill 111 UPLAND SHOOTh^ia. L'i::j AUTUMN SHOOTING. It i-! liriHi!int Aiitunin time, the must hrilliimt tiiru! i)f all, When the gorgeous woods are gloaming ere tli« li.'iives lingiii to fall; VVIiuil llie iiiapli! lioiiglis art! crimson, and tlie liirkory sjiiiii's like go.d, VVIii'ii the noons art! snllry lint, ami llio ni^'lus art' iVosiy I'old ; When the country Ins no irrei'ii lint the s\vord-gra-^s liy the rill, Anil the willows in the valley, and the pine upon llif liill ; When the piiipin leaves the hough, and the sumach's iViiit is ri;il, Antl tlie Uuail is pining inud IVom tlie liuclvwhcat wlit^re he led ; When the sky is hliie as steel, and the river clear as glass, When the mist is t)n the iiitiuntaiii, ami the network on the grass; When the harvests nil ire hoiiseil anil the larmer's work is iltino, Aud the wotidland is resounding with the spaniels antl the gun; UCH is the season of the sports- man's adoration ; to him, tho lover of boon nature in her loveUest mood, tliese days are not, as Mr. Bryant in his beautiful poem has described them, to him at least, " the melancholy days," " the sad- dest of the year," nor, with all deference to that sweet bard :""^ moralist of the woods and waters, can I aorree with him as to the tone of sentiment and feelinf? exci- ted by the contemplation of the scenery of an American autumn. It is true that we know ourselves to be lookin*^ ujxtii, as it were, a hectic loveliness, which, like the glow on tin; cheek ot consumptive beauty, is the precursor of decay and death. Still, so excjuisito is that beauty, so delicious the temperature, the atmosphere, the aspect of the skies ; so gorgeous the hues of forest-mantled mountain and deep woodland, that to me the I II; I i 'r i| f il v'i i W' I !1 f n 204 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. promiso of spring and the fullness of summer are both inferior to the serene and calm decline of the woodland year. It leads to death indeed ; but it seems to me rather to resemble the trantpiil and gentle dose of a well-spent life, beautified by the consciousness of good deeds done during the heat of youth, and in the heyday of manhood, and enriched by the hope of glorii'S to shine forth alter the winter of the grave, than the termination of an existence to be dreaded or deplored. Every land has its own season of peculiar loveliness ; and if the sweet spring-tide of soft and dewy England, with its May smiles and its April tears and its rich breath of flowery fra- grance, has awakened the fond sympathies of her landscape- loving poets, the many-colored, purple-hazed, and silvery-skied autumn of America has neither been unhonored nor unsung of lyres worthy to hang aloft in high niches of the temple conse- crate to the noblest tongue of the modern universe. The true sportsman must ever be a lover of the channs of rural scenery, and for this among other things 1 love and honor sportsmanship. I do not believe that any genuine forester, be his exterior as rough as the shell of the prickly chestnut, but must have within his heart, though he may lack words to define the sentiment, something of the painter's spirit, and the poet's fire. The very nature of his pursuits must needs awaken contemplation and induce thought, and I have often obsen-ed that the spots to which he will conduct you, apparently with- out a thought, except in reference to their convenience, wherein to take your noonday meal, or your afternoon siesta, will be the very places to charm the poet's fancy, or fix the painter's eye. I think no lover of nature can be an unkindly, or, at the bottom, an evil-minded or bad man. And so — and so 1 Instead of pausing longer thus, or solidly and solemnly discussing the theory of sporting matters, we will at once walk into the practice. We will suppose the time of the year such as our poor ballad- monger above quoted has, perhaps, labored to depict, — the time UPLAND SnOOTINO. 260 of the moiTiing, not tlio jieep of ilay, but eight, or by'r huly ! nine of the Shrewsbury clock, when tho autumnal sun has lifled his broad, jovial, ruddy face, from his dowy pillow, and raised it, looming large and blodd-ird through the thin ha/e, above the mountain's brow. 'J'here has been a touch ()f frost during the night, and its silver fretwork is stilJ white ovi-r the deep afler-grass, and yet unaltered fern leaves. Tho air is dear and brisk, yet balmy, and its every breath seems to exhilarate the mind, as if it were champagne inspired by the nostrils. The scene is a broad and gentle valley, bordered on cither side by hills, cultivated to their mid height, and (crowned aloft with the unshorn primeval woodlands. The meadows in the bottom, along the clear brimful stream — in Europe it would aspire to be called a river — are green and soft as velvet ; but the woods and swamps in the vale, are rich with every color that the painter's pallet can afford ; the blood-red foliage of the maples, the gold of the hickories, the chrome yellow of the poplars, the red russet of the oaks, the dull purple of the dog- woods, mixed with the sable green of the late alder tops, the everlasting verdure of the rhododendrons, and the lightsome greenery of the willow, forming a marvellous succession of con- trasts and accidents of light and shade, all blended into one harmonious whole, such as no other scene or season, no other clime or country, can exhibit. And at this time of year, at this hour of the morning, and into such a landscape, we will imagine a brace of sportsmen emerging from the doorway of the country taveni in which they have spent the night, with their canine companions, and a stout rustic follower, loaded with supernumerary shot-belts and gjime- bags, carrying in his dexter claw a stiff hickory cleaning-rod, and leading with his sinister a leash of large, bony, red-and- white Cocking Spaniels. Our sportsmen, for the nonce, adopting old Izaac Walton's quaint nomenclature, which figureth forth something of the cha- racter from the name, we will call Agilis and Pc'-itus. The former youthful, and somewhat rash, yet neither altogether ver- 1f li ji| n i; I'^i 2G6 FRANK FORESTERS FIELD SPORTS. If ' I i' (lant nor inexperi in the mysteries of the fowlingpiece, — the latter deliberate, though ardent, perfect with the gun, steady with the dogs, and a master of those noble sciences, hight, venerie, and woodcraft. They are both aptly habited for the field, in russet shooting- jackets, of strut corduroy, or fustian, long-waisted waistcoats, low-crowned hats, and ankle-boots of cowhide. The younger man, however, sports a pair of loose, fashionably-cut trousers, while the elder has donned knee breeches, and tight russet lea- thern leggins. Each has a double-barrelled gun under his arm, and the other appliances of flask and pouch, hidden in his roomy pockets. Neither wears any game-bag, but an ivory whistle is suspended from the upper button-hole of both jackets. The dogs which are following, docile at the heel, are a brace of Setters of the highest breed, one a red dog, with a black nose, and without a speck of white, except a snip on his breast, and a tag to his fine, feathery stern, — the other black and tan ; the pei'fection each, this of the Irish, that of the English strain, and indicating in some sort that pei'fection by their colors. " And so, Peritus," said the younger and slighter man, as they took their way through the outskirts of the village, " you augur well of our chance of sport to-day 1" " I do not think, Agilis," replied his friend, " that there is any chance about it. It has been a good breeding year for Quail, and they say that they are abundant ; then the autumn has been seasonable, and the nights have not been sharp enough to banish the Woodcock. There is a bit of pretty Snipe ground on our beat too, and we shall get a few couple, without doubt. Those, with a brace or two of Ruffed Grouse, which, I dare say, *ve shall manage to pick up among the cedar knolls, and along the wood-edges, a few Hares, and, perhaps, some Wood-duck, or Teal, or even a Mallard, by chance, will make up something in the way of a bag." " Do you expect to find all these varieties of game 1 I have never shot above three kinds in a day." " Ah ! you have not shot before in autumn in America. For UPLAND SHOOTING. 2g; tliis very reason it is the prettiest and most exciting sport in the world ; tlifit you can never even form a conjecture what is g >iii'j: to get up ])efore you, until you see it on the wing. Now, my good friend Rusticus, will you take yourself and the Spaniels to the tall oak tree on the brow of the hill yonder, and do your Lest to mark down every bevy we flush, to a yard. When we rejoin you, we will couple up the Setters, and beat the swales arRl thickets with the little dogs. Now, hold up, lads ! look ehai'p, Agilis, they are drawing already. There has been a bevy running here since the sun was up. See how gingerly they crawl over the tainted grass. Now tliey are standing both of them. Is not that a picture V And they stepped up to the dogs, which held their point as stiff' and staunch as if they had been cast in bronze, or carved in marble. "Hold ! Agilis ! Don't head them, my dear fellow. I want to let them go, if they will, into those sprouts on the hill side. They are close under the red dog's nose. There ! they are up ! Steady !" Bang ! bang ! " Bravo ! a brace, Agilis ! vei-y neatly done, I assure you ; you let them go far enough then, yet not too far, before firing. You never killed a Quail before, hey 1" " Never on this side the water, Peritus. In France and Spain I have shot a good many." " A different bird altogether, though of the same order. Not half so bold, or strong, or swift on the wing, as this, which some writers call the American Paitridge." " Is it a Partridge or a Quail, Peritus, after all ?" " Neither one nor the other, Agilis, an intermediate link be- tween the two, but approximating nearer to the Quail. See, the red dog has retrieved one — good dog, Sancho ! A pretty bird, ia it not 1" " Very. But what did you do 1 I was busy trying to mark the bevy, and did not see your shots." " Oh ! I killed two, of course. It was quite open. Did you mark them V* I •;« • ^ : 'li ^ii i.i i ; ;■ 'i ^ FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. " No. I could not, with certainty. But I think they dropped in that bog-meadow, near yon pine tree." " No, AgiUs, you did not cast your eye forward sufficiently in watching them, as tliey skimmed low over the ground before the wind. They went four hundred yards farther, and are down in that thicket, with the willows at this end." " Aye ! you have a keen eye, Peritus. Well, let us follow them at once." " Practice is more than keenness of sight, in marking. But we will by no means follow them at once. We must find seve- ral other bevies, and drive them, if possible, the same way " " Must we, — that seems strange." " Yes. I will tell you about it at luncheon time ; but now come on. The dogs are reading another bevy. Look forward beyond the crag there, by the cedars." But Peritus was in error ; it was not another bevy, but a Ruffed Grouse, which rose a moment afterward with a loud whirring, out of a brake, and was cut down handsomely by the older sportsman, after being missed by Agilis ; who, fluttered by the noise, shot a little too quickly at him. Five minutes afterward the black Setter stood suddenly and dead, in a dry maize-stubble, before Agilis, and a moment later Sancho drew, and came to a doubtful point in an opposite direc- tion, without seeing his companion. " Look alive, Agilis ; that is either a Cock or a Hare before you, and Sancho is upon a running bevy." It was, sure enough, a Hare ; which bounced up instantly out of its form, among some long grass and weeds in the maize- stubble, and was tumbled over before it had run many yards, by Agilis. At the report the bevy of Quail rose wild, and at a long distance ; which did not, however, hinder Peritus from drop- ping one, killed clean at fifty yards, or upward. " A long shot, and a good one !" said Agilis. " It was an Eley's cartridge. Loose shot would scarce have stopped him. Those birds have gone into the saplings on the hill-side, and they, I doubt not, are full of Woodcock. We are sure of sport now." > i lare before UPLAND SHOOTING. 269 iSiiail we go after this bevy 1" " Not yet, I had rather wait till they begin to run, we may very likely miss them otherwise." On they went, therefore, and pei-fectly right were they to go on ; for Poritus' mode of beating for Quail is the true one This cunning little bird, having either the power, or the pccu liarity, of retaining its scent for some short time after alighting, when it is alarmed, so that the best dogs in the world shall fail to find it. This may be an accidental provision of nature, pos- sibly owing to some contraction of the pores, and ci)nsequont check of the odoriferous eflluvium, owing to alarm ; but I am rather inclined to believe that it is an absolute power of the bird, and arising from an exertion of will, — since I have inva- riably observed, during the period in which the Quail gives forth no scent, it cannot be forced to rise even in the openest and most easy ground, unless actually almost trodden on. I have repeatedly marked Quail, literally to a yard, both in open bog-meadows, and in woods of tall timber, clear of under- brush, and have beat unsuccessfully with good dogs, immedi- ately after marking them, until almost convinced that I was mistaken in the fact of their having dropped whei'e I imagined. Yet, on returning afterward, when they had begun to move about, and call a little, I have found my first opinion to be cor- rect. On one occasion, I distinctly remember marking three Quail into a little briar patch, on a dry tussocky meadow, and seven more of the same bevy some fifty or sixty yards farther, into long grass and rushes, by the margin of a boggy stream, under willows. At this time I was perfectly aware of the peculiarity of whicli I am speaking ; but, owing to the lay of the ground, and the direction of my beat, I had no option but to try it at once. I beat the briar patch, which could not have exceeded twenty yards in diameter, carefully to and fro, with a brace of Setters, crossing and recrossing it, and myself kicking and trampling the bushes, but in vain. ; f . iriji 'hi if 1 (;! *i: U. j|:jtff t 1 I 1 . I' i I i '■1 1 4i^' fi li if FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. On comiuf^ under tlio willows, both dogs stood instantaneous- ly on two difforcnt birds, which proved, however, to be Wood- cock. Plight or nine of these latter birds we flushed and bagged, without moving any Quail except one wliicli I almost trod upon, a second alter my best dog had gone within a foot of it, taking no notice of its presence. My companions laugliod at me, for expressing an opinion that tlie Quail were still there, within a few yards of us ; but it proved that I was not in error. A Woodcock went away unshot at, or at least unwounded, and led us a long stretch off the direction of our intended beat ; while hunting for it we found another bevy of Quail scattered, and had some sport with it, by which we were amused and occu})ied during half an hour. Returning across tlie first ground, we got six points at six single birds. Quail, under the willows ; and in consequence went back into the briar patch, scarcely entering it before the Setters stood on the first three. The fact is difficult to explain, but a fact it is ; and it occurs only with the imwounded birds. I have never known Setters to have the smallest difficulty in footing crippled Quail, which always run or tumlde about as soon as they alight, or in point- ing dead Quail. I have even seen dogs find one dead Quail among a whole bevy of live ones, which they could not scent at that time, but which they did subsequently hunt up in good style. Theref )re, I say Peritus was in the right of it, in drawing his distinction as he did on that day ; for he not only improved his chance of finding more bevies by pursuing them while they were on the run in the early morning, and so scattering them into good shooting covert, where he was sure to find tliem again during the basking hours, when, unless flushed and marked down before, they can scarcely be raised, but increased the likelihood of finding his birds in good style. And all this he explained, in many more words than I have space to use, and with many an apt illustration, while he and Agilis were lying down under a sunny bank by a clear springhead, regaling themselves an hour or two after noon, with the cold chicken and UPLAND SHOOTING. 271 the sherry which Peritus had recommendod as tho best f(jrm of hmcheon. " I have no doubt you arc perfectly riirTit about this, Peritus," said his friend. " Indeed, the practice lias proved the principle, for we have got forty-five or forty-six Quail between us, out of those first four bevies, besides thirty Cock. It is glorious sport, indeed." "Not very bad, certainly, Agilis ; and you have shot welJ too, which inclines you to think of the sport, perhaps, with more than ordinai'y complacency. But mark me, if we had followed up that first bevy we should not have flushed or marked the other five, all of which, you remember, the dogs trailed as they were rambling about on the feed, before the day got warm. It would have occupied us till eleven o'clock to j)ick up that one bevy, had we been able to move it, which is doubtful ; and by that time all the others would have huddled themselves away into some little dry sunny nook or o her, where it would have been ten to one against our stumbling upon them. As it is, before that same hour we had stirred six bevies, four of which we have used up, while I hear the other two calling even now in that great swamp, where we will give a good account ->£ them likewise, when we have finished these cigars. " Aye ! I observe all this, and see the sportsmanship of it, Peritus ; what noble birds, moreover, these autumn Woodcock are. All full grown birds, with fine gray foreheads, and pink legs. They must weigh one-third more each than the young- lings we slaughtered in July." " True, O king ! at least one-third moi-e. Now, don't you think we ought to give up summer Cock shooting 1" " I never thought otherwise. What between the thermome- ter at ninety in the shade, and the myriads of mosquitoes, I do not look upon summer shooting as fit sport for any man who is not as thick-shelled as a lobster, and him it would be likely to boil." " What autumn shooting we should have, if they would but abolish summer Cock shooting, and enforce their own laws !" VOL. r. 20 t 1 \ . ! \ ^ijijHi ill I ! Mi .1 272 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. :l t^h " Aye ! inderd, but let us on. My cigar is finished. Hush ! hush ! What are those 1" " Wood-duck, by Jupiter! eight of them ; and they have drop- ped in the bed of the brook, just under the big white oak tree ; they are after the acorns. Keep the dogs close, good Rusticus ; now, Agilis, cram down an Ely's cartridge in each baiTel and let us steal down upon them. Try to get a sitting shot on the water first, and then give them the second barrel as they rise." " Excellent ! excellent, Peritus. I see your words are about to be made good. I have bagged a Mallard already, and you two green-winged Teal — " "And a Pin-tail," answered Peritus, "besides Grouse, Quail, Hare and Woodcock. And now we will have four or five Wood-duck ; and there are the Snipe bogs. Off with you, but keep your head down and crawl low j the Wood-duck is not, however, a tvild Duck." Within ten minutes four barrels sent forth their contents, and five Ducks came to bag, and thence the friends went forward to the Snipe ground, whern some eighteen or twenty long bills were picked up, fat, large and lazy ; and thence again into the wide deep swampy woodlands, where the yelping of the Span- iels, the flip-flap of the rising Woodcock, the whiiT of the startled Quail, and the louder hurtling of the Ruffed Grouse, succeeded rapidly by the loud ringing gunshots, gave note of glorious sport until sundown, when the increasing darkness put a stop to the joyous labors of the unwearied sportsmen. The tale of that day's bag, and it was a real day, and a real bag, was as follows : Seven Ruffed Grouse, sixty-two Quail, forty Cock, nine teen Snipe, nine Hares, five Wood-duck, two green-winged Teal, a Mallard, and a Pin-tail, brought to bag by two guns, in about eight hours' shooting — one hundred and sixty-six head of game, of nine different varieties. That is the best day's sport I ever saw ; I fear I never shall see such another, certainly I shall not in the same reg^ion. Nothing in the way of sport can, I think, be better, and such UPLAND SHOOTING. 273 was twelve years since within fifty miles off New- York, such is in the interior of the southern tier of counties of that State, and such is in hundreds and hundreds of places in the West, tlie autumn sliooting of America. And that, mine English readers, without a game-keeper or a presei-ve in all the length and breadth of the land ; and, I might almost say without a game-law,* so limited is the sphere ot operation of these latter, so narrow and perverse their enact- ments, and — above all — so little are they regarded. But this alas ! will soon, if not amended, abolish altogether the Field Sports of America. )■ ^ P. S. The above note, when published, was subsequently discovered to be premature, and, as concerns Rockland County, is still unfortunately incorrect. With regard to Orange County, it exists now as above stated, having been passed by the Supervisors of that County, to whom the de- partment of Game Laws has recently been entrusted by an act of the State Legislature March, 1851 mH i , i : i 1 274 FEANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. k\ m ilAIL; AND RAIL SHOOTING. I illi HIS singular and delicious little bird is 80 peculiar in its character and habits, although of an order which affords several species of our most esteemed game, viz.: Grallatores, and the mode of pursuing and shooting it is so distinct from any other kinda of sport, that I have judged it best te keep it under a head entirely separate from other field sports,. with no one of which, in truth, has it the smallest connexion m alliance. " Rallus Carolinus — Ortygomctra CaroVmus — the Carolina Rail'^ the Sora Rail — vulgo, the Rail. " Male 9,'.14. " Passes across the United States, both by the interior and along the coast. Some breed in New Jersey. Rarely seen east of Massachusetts. Extremely abundant in autumn on the Delaware and other streams furnished with wild oats. A few reside in Florida and Louisiana in winter. " Adult male, " Bill shorter than the head, rather stout, deep, compressed, tapering. Upper mandible with the dorsal outline nearly straight, being slightly convex toward the end, the ridge flattish for a very short space at the base, very slightly extended on the forehead, naiTow in the rest of its extent ; the sides convex towai'd the end, the edges sharp, inflected, with a slight sinus n UPLAND SHOOTING. 275 close to the tip. Nasal groove broad, and extending to two- thirds of the length of the bill. Nostrils linear, lateral, suh- medial, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle loiii^ and narrow, the sides erect, the dorsal line sloping upward, the edges inflected, the tip narrowed, the gap line straight. " Head rather small, oblong, compressed. Neck of moderate length. Body rather slender, much compressed. Feet of mod- erate length, rather stout; tibia bare a short way above the joint; tarsus of ordinary length, compressed, anteriorly covered with broad scutella, posteriorly with smaller, and on the sides reticulated. Hind toe very short and slender, middle toe longest, and longer than the tarsus, fourth considerably shorter than the third, and a little longer than the second ; toes free, scutellate above, much compressed, with an inferior sharp margin. Claws rather long, exceedingly compressed, slightly arched, tapering to a fine point, flat, and marginate beneath. " Plumage rather stiff", but blended, slightly glossed above. Feathers of the forehead with the shaft; enlarged and slightly extended beyond the tip. Wings short and broad. Alula large ; primaries curved, broad, tapering, but rounded, second longest, third scarcely shorter, first equal to sixth ; secondaries broad and rounded. Tail extremely short, much rounded, of twelve feeble rounded feathers ; the upper and lower tail cov- erts nearly as long as the tail feathers. " Bill, yellow at the base, dusky toward the end. Iris bright chestnut. Feet yellowish-green ; claws light-brown. A broad band surrounding the base of the bill, the central part of the crown, the chin, and the fore-neck in its whole length, brown- ish-black. Ear coverts olive-brown ; a band over the eye, the cheeks and the sides of the neck ash-grey. Sides of the crown, the hind-neck, and the rest of the upper parts olive-brown. The feathers brownish-black in the centre, those on the back with two marginal lines of white. Smaller wing coverts of a lighter brown; secondary coverts margined with black and white markings ; quills dusky olive-brown, as is the tail. Middle of breast and abdomen greyish-white ; sides barred with brownish ■^ I ifU:^ ! I r 1 i I III l^\ 1} I: 276 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. black and greyish-white, as are the lateral feathers of the iiimp ; those of the abdomen reddish-yellow. " Length to end of tail, 9 ,^ inches ; to end of wings, 84 ; to end of claws, 12 ; extent of wings, 14 ; wing from flexure, 4,\ ; tail, 2 ; bill along the ridge, jl ; along the edge of the lower mandible, JE; tarsus, 1,^^; its middle toe, 1,1^; its claw, 4oi. Weight, 7 oz. " Adult female. " The female differs considerably from the male in coloring. The naked parts and iris are similar, as are the upper parts generally ; but the black around the base of the bill, on the head and fore-neck, is wanting, the fore parts of the head being light-brown, the chin whitish, the sides of the neck light grey- ish-brown. The white lines of the back are duller, and the dark bands of the sides of a lighter tint. " Young male. " The young male, after its first moult, is intennediate in color between the adult male and the female, but more like the lat- ter, the black on the head and fore-neck appearing in spots, and the sides of the neck being nearly as in the female." — Audubon's Birds of America. "Of all our land or water fowl, perhaps none afford the sports- man more agreeable amusement or a more delicious repast than the little bird now before us. This amusement is indeed temporary, lasting only two or three hours in the day, for four or five weeks in each year, but as it occurs in the most agi'ee- able and temperate of our seasons, is attended with little or no fatigue to the gunner, and is frequently successful, it attracts numerous followers, and is pursued in such places as the birds frequent, with gi*eat eagerness and enthusiasm. " The natural history of the Rail, or as it is called in Virginia the Sora, and in South Carolina the Coot, is to the most of our sportsmen involved in profound and inexplicable mystery. It comes they know not whence, and goes they know not where. No one can detect their first moment of arrival ; yet all at once .,1 UPLAND SHOOTING. 27: the reedy shores and grassy marshes of our large rivers swai'ni with them, thousands being sometimes found within the si)ace of a few acres. These, wlien tliey do venture on wing, seem to tly so feebly, and in such short fluttering flights among the reeds, as to render it highly improbable to most people that they could possibly make their way over an extensive tract of country. Yet on the first smart frost that occurs, the whole suddenly disap- pear, as they had never been. " To account for these extraordinary phenomena, it has been supposed by some that they bury themselves in the mud, but as this is every year dug up into ditches, by people repairing the banks, without any of these sleepers being found, where but a few weeks before these bii-ds were innumerable, this theory has been abandoned. And here their researches into this mysteri- ous matter, generally end in the common exclaniiition of, Wlutt can become of them ] Some profound inquirers, however, not discouraged with these difficulties, have prosecuted their re- searches with more success, and one of these being a few years ago near the mouth of James River, in Virginia, where the Rail, or Sora, ai'e extremely numerous, has, as I was informed on the spot, lately discovered that they change into Frogs, having himself found in his meadows an animal of an extraordi- nary kind, that appeared to be neither a Sora nor a Frog, but, as he expressed it, something between the two. He car- ried it to his negroes, and aft;erwards took it home, where it lived three days, and in his own, and in his negroes' opinion, it looked like nothing in this world but a real Sora chanjred into a Frog ! What farther confirms this grand discovery, is the wcjU- known circumstance of the Frogs ceasing to halloo as soon as the Sora comes in the fall. " This sagacious discovery, however, like many others re- nowned in history, has found but few supporters, and except his own negroes, has not, as far as I can learn, made a single con- vert to his opinion. " Matters being so circumstanced, and some explanation ne- cessary, I shall endeavor to throw a little more light on the '1H 1 ^1 ■ i H ' !| ■ V 1 : ii,l 278 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SI'ORTS. « 1 J t %i ifliii : 'ii 8ubje«'t by a simple detail of facts, leaving the reader to form liis own theory as he pleases. " The Rail, or Sora, belongs to a genus of birds of which about thirty different 8peci»;s are enumerated by naturalists, and these are distributed on almost every region of the habitable parts ot the earth. The general character of these is every where the same. They run swiftly, fly slowly and usually with the legs hanging down, become extremely fat, are fond of concealment, and whenever it is practicable, prefer running to flying. Most of them are migratory, and abound during tho summer in cer- tain countries, the inhabitants of which have very rarely an opportunity of seeing them. Of this last, the Land Rail ot Britain is a striking example. This bird, which during the summer months may be heard in almost every grass and clover field in the kingdom, uttering its common note, ^crelc, crck,' from sunset to a late hour in the night, is yet unknown by sight to more than nine-tenths of the inhabitants. " Its well-known cry, says Bewick, is first heard as soon as the grass becomes long enough to shelter it, and continues till the grass is cut, but the bird is seldom seen, for it constantly skulks among the thickest part of the herbage, and runs so nimbly through it, winding and doubling in every direction, that it is difficult to come near it. When hard pushed by the dog, it sometimes stops short and squats down, by which means its too eager pursuer overshoots the spot and loses the trace. " It seldom springs, btit when driven to extremity, and gene- rally flies with its legs hanging down, but never to a great distance ; as soon as it alights it runs off", and before the fowler has reached the spot the bird is at a considerable distance. " The Water-crake, or Spotted Rail of the same country, which in its plumage approaches nearer to our Rail, is another notable example of the same general habit of the genus. Its common abode, says the same writer, is in low, swampy grounds, in which are pools or streamlets overgrown with willows, reeds and rushes, where it lurks and hides itself with great circumspection. It is wild, solitary and sly, and will UPLAND SHOOTING. 27l> swim, divo and skulk uiidor any cover, ami sDrvietimcs sufl'er itself to 1)0 knocked «»ii tlio head, rather tiian rise before the sportsman and his doi^. The Water Rail of the same country is noted for the like habits. In short, the whole genus possess this strange family character in a very remarkable degree. " These three species are well known to migrate into Britain early in the spring, and to leave it for the more soutliern parts of Europe in autumn. Yet they are rarely or never seen in their passage to or from the countries, where they are regularly found at different seasons of the year, and this for the very same reasons, that they are so rarely seen even in the places they inhabit. It is not, therefore, at all surprising, that the re- gular migrations of the American Rail, or Sora, should in like manner have escaped notice in a country like this, whose popu- lation bears so small a proportion to its extent, and where the study of natural history is so little attended to. But that these migrations do actually take place, from noith to south, and vice verm, may be fairly inferred from the common practice of thou sands of other species of birds, less solicitous of concealment, and also from the following facts : — " On the 22d day of February, I killed two of these birds in the neighborhood of Savannah, in Georgia, where vhey have never been observed during the summer. On the second day of the May following, I shot another in a watery thicket, below Philadelphia, between the rivers Schuylkill and Delaware, in what is usually called the Neck. This last was a male in full plumage. We are also informed that they anive at Hudson's Bay early in June, and again leave that settlement for the South early in autumn. " That many of them also remain here to breed, is proved by the testimony of persons of credit and intelligence, with whom I have conversed, both here and on James River, in Virginia, who have seen their nests, eggs, and young. In the extensive meadows that border the Schuylkill and Delaware, it was for- merly common, before the country was so thickly settled, to find young Rail in the first mowing time, among the grass il* ; I': •I 1 ] { » I ' i ■ ; ■1 . i ' : 1 . iL 280 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SPORTS. i 1 1 Si 't: 1 ■mi 1 I ■'i* ' i '1*1 t , i-J j; ■( Mi Mr. James Bartram, brother to the botanist, a venerable and still active man, of eighty-three, and well acquainted with this bird, says, that he has often seen and caught young Rail in his own meadows, in the month of June ; he has also seen the nest, which, he says, is usually in a tussock of grass, is formed of a little dry grass, and had four or five eggs of dirty whitish color, with brown, or blackish spots. The young run off' as soon as they break the shell, are then quite black, and run about among the grass, like mice. The old ones he has very rarely obseiTed at that time, Lut the young often. Almost every old settler along these meadows, with whom 1 have conversed, has occasionally seen young Rail in mowing time, and all agree in describing them as covei-ed with blackish down. There can, therefore, be no reasonable doubt as to the residence of many of those birds, both here and to the northward, during the summer. " That there can be as little doubt as to their winter retreat, will appear more particularly towards the sequel of the present account. " During their residence here in summer, their manners exactly correspond with those of the Water-crake of Britain, already quoted, so that though actually a different species, their parti- cular habits, common places of resort, and eagerness for con- cealment, are as nearly the same as the nature of the climates will admit. " Early in August, when the reeds along the shores of the De- laware have attained their full growth, the Rail resort to them in great numbers, to feed on the seeds of this plant, of which they, as well as the Rice-birds, and several others, are immo- derately fond. These reeds, which appear to be the Zizania panicula effusa of Linnieus, and the Zizania clavulosa of Willin- den, grow up from the soft muddy shores of the tide-water, which are, alternately, dry, and covered with four or five feet of water. They rise with an erect tapering stem, to the height of eight or ten feet, being nearly as thick below as a man's wrist, and cover tracts along the river for many acres. The cattle feed on their long, green leaves, with avidity, and wade in after UPLAND SHOOTING. 281 them as far as they dare safely venture. They grow up so close togetlier, that except at or near high water, a boat can with difficulty make its way through among them. The seeds are produced at the top of the plant, the blossoms, or male parts, occupying the lower branches of the pannicle, and the seeds the higher. The seeds are neai'ly as long as a common-sized pin, somewhat more slender, white, sweet to the taste, and very nu- tritive, as appears by their effects on the various bii'ds that feed on them at this season. When the reeds are in this state, and even while in blossom, the Rail are found to have taken pos- session of them in great numbers. These are generally nume- rous, in proportion to the full and promising crop of the former. As you walk along the embankment of the river, at this season, you hear them squeaking in every direction, like young puppies. If a stone be thrown among the reeds, there is a general out- cry, and a reiterated kulc, kuk, kuk, — something like that of a Guinea-fowl. Any sudden noise, or discharge of a gun, pro- duces the same effect. In the meantime, none are to be seen, unless it be at or near high water, — for when the tide is low, they universally secrete themselves among the interstices of the reeds ; and you may walk past, and even over them, where there are hundreds, without seeing a single individual. On tlieir first arrival, they are generally lean and unfit for the table, but as the seeds ripen, they rapidly fatten, and from the 20th Sep- tember to the middle of October, are excellent, and eagerly sought after. The usual method of shooting them in this quar- ter of the country, is as follows. " The sportsman furnishes himself with a light batteau, and a stout, experienced boatman, with a pole of twelve or fifteen feet long, thickened at the lower end, to prevent it from sinking too deep in the mud. About two hours or so Ijefore high water, they enter the reeds, and each takes his post, — the sportsman hlauding in the bow, I'eady for action, the boatman on the stern- beat, pushing her steadily through the reeds. The Rail gene- rally spring singly as the boat advances, and at a sliort distance a-head, are instantly shot down, while the boatman, keeping . ^ , i ,i \\ Wiu FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. his eye on the spot where the bird fell, directs the boat forward, and picks the bird up, while the gunner is loading. It is also the boatman's business to keep a sharp look-out, and give the word * Mark,' when a Rail springs on either side, without being obsex"ved by the sportsman, and to note the exact spot where it falls, until he has picked it up ; for this once lost sight of, owing to the sameness in the appearance of the reeds, is seldom found again. In this manner the boat moves steadily through and over the reeds, the birds flushing and falling, the gunner load- ing and fii'ing, while the boatman is pushing and picking up. The sport continues an hour or two after high water, when the shallowness of the water, and the strength and weight of the floating reeds, as also the backwardness of the game to spring, as the tide decreases, oblige them to retuim. Several boats are sometimes within a short distance of each other, and a perpetual cracking of musketry prevails abovo : ^ whole reedy shores of the river. In these excui'sions, .<. a i; un- common for an active and expert marksman to kill teii ut: twelve dozen in a tide. They are usually shot singly, though I have known five killed at one dischai'ge of a double-barrelled piece. These instances, however, are rare. The flight of these birds among the reeds, is usually low, and shelter being abundant, is rarely extended to more than fifty or one hundred yards. When winged, and uninjured in their legs, they swim and dive with great rapidity, and are seldom seen to rise again. I have seve- ral times, on such occasions, discovered them clinging with their feet to the reeds under the water, and at other times skulking under the floating reeds, with their bills just above the surface ; sometimes, when wounded, they dive, and rising under the gun wale of the boat, secrete themselves there, moving round as the boat moves, until they have an opportunity of escaping unno- ticed. They are feeble and delicate in everything except tho legs, which seem to possess great vigor and energy ; and their bodies being so remarkably thin, are compressed so as to be less than an inch and a quarter through transversely, they are ena- bled to pass between the reeds like rats. When seen, they aro '^ UPLAND SHOOTING. 2S3 ' ■^. almost constantly jetting up the tail, yet though their flight among the reeds seem feeble and fluttering, every sportsman who is acquainted with them here, must have seen them occa- sionally rising to a considerable height, stretching out their legs behind them, and flying rapidly across the river, where it is more than a mile in width. Such is the mode of Rail shootinff in the neighborhood of Phil adelphia. " In Virginia, particularly along the shores of James River, within the tide water, where the Rail, or Sora, are in prodigious numbers, they are also shot on the wing, but more usually taken at night in the following manner : — " A kind of iron grate is fixed on the top of a stout pole, which is placed like a mast in a light canoe, and filled with fire. The darker the night, the more successful is the sport. The person who manages the canoe, is provided with a light paddle, ten or twelve feet in length ; and about an hour before high water, pro- ceeds through among the reeds, which lie broken and floating on the surface. The whole space, for a considerable way round the canoe, is completely enlightened, — the birds start with as- tonishment, and, as they appear, are knocked over the head with a paddle, and throwTi into the canoe. In this manner, from twenty to eighty dozen have been killed by three negroes in the short space of three hours. " At the same season, or a little earlier, they are very nume- rous in the lagoons near Detroit, on our northern frontier, where another species of reed, of which they are equally fond, grows in shallows in great abundance. Gentlemen who have shot them there, and on whose judgment I can rely, assure mo that they differ in nothing from those they have usually killed on the shores of the Delaware and Schuylkill ; they are equally fat and exquisite eating. " On the seacoast of New-Jersey, where these are not to be found, this bird is altogether unknown, though along the marshes of Maurice River, and other tributary streams uf the Delaware, and where the reeds abound, the Rail are sure to be found also. Most of them leave Pennsylvania before the end of H ti ■ ' r ■ ■ * : < ,t<.,,i I ■ . .( ! wui V I! :i< 284 FRANK FORESTERS FIELD SPORTS. October, and the Southern States early in November, though numbers linger in the warm southern marshes the whole winter. . " A very worthy gentleman — Mr. Hariison — who lives in Kittiwan, near a creek of that name, on the borders of James River, informed me, in burning his meadows early in March, they generally raise and destroy several of these birds. " That the great body of these Rail winter in countries be- yond the United States, is rendered highly probable, from their being so fi-equently met with at sea, between our shores and the West India Islands. " A Captain Douglas informed me, that on his voyage from St. Domingo to Philadelphia, and more than a hundred miles from the Capes of the Delaware, one night the man at the helm was alarmed by a sudden crash on deck, that broke the glass in the binnacle, and put out the light. On examining into the cause, three Rail were found on deck, two of which were killed on the spot, and the other died soon after. " The late Bishop Madison, President of William and Mary College, Virginia, assured me that a Mr. Skipwith, for some time our Consul in Europe, on his return to the United States, when upwards of three hundred miles from the Capes if the Chesapeake, several Rail, or Soras, I think five or six, came on board, and were caught by the people. Mr. Skipwith being well acquainted with the bird, assured him that they were the very same with those usually killed on James Rivei". " I have received like assurances fi'om several other gentle- men, and captains of vessels, who have met with those birds be- tween the main land and the islands, so as to leave no doubt on my mind as to the fact. For why should it be considered in- credible, that a bird which can both swim and dive well, and at pleasure fly with great rapidity, as I have myself frequently wit- nessed, should be incapable of migrating, like so many others, over extensive tracts of land or sea 1 Inhabiting as they do the remote regions of Hudson's Bay, where it is impossible they could subsist during the rigor of the winter, they must either emigrate from there, or perish j and as the same places in Penr I i. r, though le whiter. Uves in of James n March, I. ntries be- from their horea and y^age from tired miles aan at the broke the ^lining into vhich were 1 and Mary 1, for some lited States, apes ^f the ir six, came 3with being 3y were the ther gentle- se birds be- no doubt on nsidered in- well, and at quently wit- any others, they do the ossible they must either ices in Penr •n UPLAND SnOOTINO. 285 sylvania, which abound with them in October, are often laid under ice and snow dunng the winter, it is as impossible that they could exist here in that inclement season. Heaven has, therefore, given them, in common with many otluu's, certain prescience of these cii'cumstances, and judgment, as well as Bti-ength of flight, sufficient to seek more genial climate, abound- ing with the suitable food. " During the greater part of the months of September and October, the market of Philadelphia is abundantly supplied with Rail, which are sold from half a dollar to a dollar per dozen. Soon after the 20th of October, at which time our first smart frosts generally take place, these birds move of!" to the South. In Virginia they usually remain until the first week in Novem- ber. " Since the above was written, I have received from Mr. George Ord, of Philadelphia, some curious particulars relative to this bird, which, as they are new, and come from a gentle- man of respectability, are worthy of being recorded, and merit further investigation. " ' My personal experience,' says Mr. Ord, ' has made me ac- quainted with a fact in the history of the Rail, which, perhaps, is not generally known, — and 1 shall as biiefly as possible com- municate it to you. Some time in the autumn of the yeai 1809, as I was walking in a yard, after a severe shower of rain, I per- ceived the feet of a bird projecting from a spout. I pulled it out, and discovered it to be a Rail, very vigorous, and in per- fect health. The bird was placed in a small room, on a gun case, and I was amusing myself with it, when in the act of pointing my finger at it, it suddenly sprang forward, apparently much irritated, fell to the floor, and stretching out its feet, and bending its neck, until the head nearly touched the back be- came to all appearance lifeless. Thinking the fall had killed the bird, I took it up, and began to lament my rashness, in jn-o- voking it. In a few minutes it again breathed, and it was some time before it perfectly recovered from the fit into which it now appeared evident it had fallen. I placed the Rail in a room ( V •i ■ \ ■ ' - i J tn M- I i. : FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. wherein Canary Birds were confined, and resolved that on the succeeding day, I would endeavor to discover whether or not the passion of anger had produced tlie fit. I entered the room at the ajipointed time, and appi-oached the bird, which had re- tired on beholding me, in sullen humor, to a corner. On point- ing my finger at it, its feathers were immediately ruffled, and in an instant it sprang forward, as in the first instance, and fell into a similar fit. The following ■l.iy the experiment was re- peated, with like effect. " 'In the fall of 1811, as I was shooting among the reeds, I perceived a Rail rise but a few feet before my batteau. The bird had risen about a yard, when it became entangled in the tops of a small bunch of reeds, and immediately fell. Its feet and neck were extended, as in the instances above men- tioned, and before it had time to recover, I killed it. Some few days afterwards, as a friend and I were shooting in the same place, he killed a Rail, and as we approached the spot to pick it up, another was perched not a foot off", in a fit ; I took up the latter and placed it in the crown of my hat ; in a few moments it revived, and was as vigorous as ever. " ' These facts go to prove that the Rail is subject to gusts of passion, which operate to so violent a degree as to produce a disease similar in its effects to epilepsy. I leave the explana- tion of the phenomena to those pathologists who are competent and willing to investigate it. It may be worthy to remark that the birds affected as described, were all females, of the Galli- nula Carolina, or common Rail ' " The Rail, though generally reputed a simple bird, will sometimes manifest symptoms of considerable intelligence. To those acquainted with Rail shooting, it is hardly necessary to mention that the tide in its flux is considered an almost indis- pensable auxiliary, for when the water is off" the marsh, the lubricity of the mud, the height and compactness of the reed, and the swiftness of foot of the game tend to weary the sports^ man and to frustrate his endeavors. " Even should he succeed in a tolerable degree, the reward is n 1 k Mt'l t on the r or not he room had re- )n point- fled, and , and fell t was re- 5 reeds, I au. The angled in r fell. Its lOve men- it. Some ing in the the spot to fit ; I took ; in a few to gusts of produce a le explana- competent •emark that the Galli- hird, will crence. To lecessary to Imost indis- marsh, the of the reed, the sports* Ihe reward is trPLAND SHOOTING. 287 not commensurate to tlio lahor. I have entered the marsh in a batteau, at a common tide, and in a well-knnwn haunt, have beheld but a few birds. Tlie next better tide, on our resorting to the same spot, I j:erceiv«'d abundance of game. The fact is, tlic Rail dive and conceal fbomsolves beneath the fallen reed, merely projecting their heads above tlie surface of the water for air, and remain in that situation until the sportsman has passed them, and it is well known that it is a common prac- tice with wounded Rail to dive to the bottojn, and holding on to some vegetable substance, support themselves in that situation until exhausted. " During such times, the bird, in escaping from one enemy has often to encounter with another not less formidable. Eels and cat-fish swim in every direction seeking for prey, and it is ten to one if a wounded Rail escape them. I myself have beheld a large eel make off with a binl that I had shot, before I had time to pick it up ; and one of my boys, in lK)l)hing for eels, caught one with a whole Rail in its belly. I have heai'd it obsei'ved that on the increase of the moon the Rail improves in fatness, and decreases in a considerable degree with that planet. Some- times I have conceited that the remark w is just. If it be a fact, I think it may be explained on the suj^position that the bird is enabled to feed at night as well as by day, while it has the benefit of the moon, and with less interruption than at other periods. " I have had my doubts as to the propriety of classing tliis liird luider the genus Ralhis. Both Latham and Pennant call it a Gallinula, and when one considers the length and formation of its bill, the propriety of the nomenclature is obvious. " As the article was commenced by our printers before I could make up my mind on the subject, the reader is retpiestcd to consider this species the GaUiniila Carolina of Dr. Latham." — Wilson's American Oryiithology. To set aside the possibility of continued doubt on the sul)ject of the migration of the Rail, which really seems to be so per VOL. I. -1 i ! ■; ■■ ' i 288 FRANK FORF.STEH S FIELD SPORTS. fectly a settled question, ns to rciuler it impossible tlint nny sane man in America slioulil persist in Relieving that this liird burrows and lies torpid in the; mud — T have myself, however, met scores who do helieve so — I shall (juote ]\[r. Audulion'a personal observations as to the migrations of this bird, wliich ho has often seen with his own eyes, and no one, who hns read his deliglitiid animal biogra2)hies, will doubt Irow keen those eyes are, and how accurate. " This bird," he says, " which I think might have been named the Pcnnsylvanian or Virginian Rail, enters the union from the shores of INIexico, early in March, when many are seen in the markets of New Orleans. Some reach their northern desti- nation by ascending along the margin of our western streams, or by crossing the country directly, in the maimer of the Wood- cock ; \vhile those which proceed along the coast shorten their journey as much as possible by Hying across the headlands of "he numerous inlets or bavs of our southern districts, returnino: or advancintj more slowlv, accordiuG: to the state of the weather. Thus, those which cross the peninsula of Florida, through the marshes and lagoons which lead to the head waters of the St. .John's River, instead of travelling round the shores of Georgia and South Carolina, fly directly across toward Cape Lo(jkout. It is nevertheless true, that a certain number of these birds follow the sinuosities of the slioi-es, for I found some in the markets of Charleston, in April, that had been killed in the im- mediate neighborhood of that city, and I obtained others in various parts ; but the number of these is very small as com- pared with those that cross at once. When their passage takes place, cither during calm weather, or with a favorable wind, the fortunate travellers pursue their journey by entering Pam- lico Sound, and following the inner margins of the outward banks of this part of the c^ast until they reach Cape Henry. Thence some ascend the Chesapeake, while others make for the mouth of the Delaware, and these, perhaps, again meet on the borders of Lake Ontario, or the waters of the St. Lawrence, tl'.iit any this Mnl Vuduliou'a ,^vl^u•ll lie IS leatl liift tliosc eyea ecn iiamod in:oii iVom [irc seen in tlicni clesti- vu streams, I the Wood- hortoii their Hands of ^ht; returning or he weather, through the rs of the St. s of Georgia ie Lookout, these birds some in the ed in the ini- ed others in mall as com- )assage takes (,ral)le wind, :i1(>ring Pam- the ontward Cape Henry. ers make lor o-ain meet on St. Lawrence, UPLAND SHOOTING. 28ii after which they soon enter those portions of the country in which they hreed, and spend a short hut agreeable season. " Every person aeipiainted with the general movements of birds, either during tlie spring, when they pass northward, or the autumnal months, when they are on their way to milder climes, is aware that at the former period their anxiety to reach the breeding place is much greater than that which they feel at any other period. Thus, in its movement southward, the Sora, like all other Ralls, when I'oturnlng with its progeny, wliicli are yet feeble, and unable to undergo much fatigue, proceeds considerably slower than in spruig ; hence its appearance in autumn, in multitudes, in various places, where it is enticed, by an abundance of food and comparative security, to tany for some time and recruit its strength. Thus in September and part of October, the Sora is found in great numbers on the borders of our great lakes, feeding on wild oats, and on the reedy margins of the rivers of our middle districts. Several natural causes prevent birds of this species from following the seacoast of the United States while migrating, either in spring or in autumn, the principal of which is the absence of their favor- ite Zizania marshes, which are but very rarely to be met with to the east of the State of New- York. This is ])robably the cause of the great rarity of this species in Massachusetts, whili', 80 far as I know, none are ever found to the eastward of that State. These observations are corroborated by those of my friend, Thomas INIcCulloch, of Pictou, who never met with one of these birds during many years' residence in that part of Nova Scotia. " Having seen flocks of Soras winging their way close over the waters of the gulf of Mexico, and between Cape Florida and the main shores of the Carolinas, in the month of A})ril, when they were moving directly toward Cape Lookout, I have very little doubt that many return in the same track, in the end of October, when the young, well-fed and strengthened, are able to follow their parents on wing, even across that wide expanse of water. I shall now dismiss this part of the subject by add- ) '.fH \' ^1 i 1. i^ I'. 1 : ^ J > ' i !! ) i * 1 :;^ '! '^i '1' ; ' ; i^r : j i ■ I " i i if ■V .■ . . if m 200 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ing in confirmation of their capability of protracted flight, that some of these birds, when accidentally separated from their flock, have supported themselves on wing until they have met with vessels several hundred miles from land ; and facts of this kind have been announced by persons of well-known respec- tability. " During the autumnal months, a goodly number of Soras are found in the rice fields and fresh water marshes of the Carolinas. Sometimes, also, they have been shot in salt water marshes, in spring, while on their northward migration. At this period they are silent until forced to fly. In those States, none are seen during summer, very few, it appears, remain in any part of the middle districts. My friend, John Bachman, howevei', was shown some eggs of this bird, that had been found in the meadows below Philadelphia ; and whilst I was on a shooting expedition for Woodcock, in company with ray friend, Edward Harris, Esq., my son shot some young birds, scarcely fledged, and shortly afterward, an adult female. John Bachman met with a nest on the shores of the Hudson, and I saw two in the marshes of Lake Champlain." — Atuluhon's American Ornithology. 1 have judged it but proper to extend both my quotations on the habits, and my own observations on the shooting of this bird, to some length, as the first are very peculiar, and the lat- ter affords a sport, which though I think it for my own part, rather a tame amusement, is still followed with much eagerness and zest by sportsmen, especially on the Delaware, and on the great Western Lakes, where the bird, as we have seen, abounds. The United States contain many other species of Rail, most of which are at times shot by the sportsman, while in pursuit ot one kind or another of aquatic fowl, but none of them are suffi- ciently abundant, in certain spots or at certain seasons, unless it be perhaps the bird commoidy known as the Mud-Hen, to be made the object of especial pursuit. UPLAND SHOOTING. 291 Thia bird which is, properly, The Clapper Rail, or Salt Wateh Maush Hen, Ral- LUS Crepitans, is a constant resident at one period or other of the year, on some part of the Atlantic coasts from Long Island to the Gulf of Mexico. It is a large-sized bird, weighing 11 to 12 oz., and looking much larger than it ronlly is. They are shot in the bays of Long Island, and still more abundantly in the vicinity of Charleston, much as the Sora Rail is on the Delaware ; the boats are, however, in this sport, if it can be so called — for the birds are large, clumsy, slow-moving and cannot be missed — propelled by oars or paddled, not by tho pole. On Long Island and generally in the Middle States, this bird is called the 3Iud, or Mcadow-IIcn. The other species commonly met .vith by the sportsman are, The Great Red-Breasted Rail, or Fresh Water Marsh Hen — Rallus Elegans — commonly known m Pennsylvania and New-Jersey as the " King Rail." This is the largest and by far the handsomest of the ti-ibe; its weight is about 11 to 13 oz. — its length 201 inches by an alar extent of 22. It is rarely found east of Pennsylvania, although I have occa- sionally killed it in New-Jersey. It is a constant resident of the Southern States. The Virginia Rail — Rallus Virginianus. This bird greatly resembles the last species, though not much more than half its size. It is properly a Southern bird, but is found during the autumn, in small numbers along the atlantic coasts. It is killed both on fresh and salt water, but is nowhere exceedingly abundant. In addition to these, I may name the common Coot of Ameri- ca, and the common Gallinule, both of this same family of RallidvE. They are principally Southern birds, though strag- glers are occasionally found in the INIiddle and Eastern States. They are of little worth for the sport which they afford, and still less for the quality of their flesh ; but like many other water birds and waders, such as the Bitterns, Herons, Egrets, and the ^• 1 ! ' }■ I li I 2l)2 FRANK FORESTER'S FIELD SI'ORTS. liko, aro usually killed by the sportsman, if encountered in pur- suit of otlicr game, though never miido the object of especial chase. None of these, however, can it be deemed unspoitsmaiilikc or snobbish to shoot, while in the field, with dogs, as it is to kill Pigeons, Meadow Larks, Thrushes, or the like, since their haunts and habits are generally in some sort like game-like, and dogs will, for the most part, draw on them, if not stand them dead. None of these, however, require any fuller notice than the above, and hence I proceed to shooting the Sora Rail on the Delaware. in»LAND SHOOTING. 893 I \ RAIL SHOOTING. 't ROM tlio middle of August, until I '/'/ tlin sottini; in of wiiitrv frosts, y'/^'ij, the pursuit of this <'urioiis, niid ex- >.r/^ collent little hii-d, iniiy be followed ^ in the loralities which lie fre- ?^ quents, by those who care for the sport. It is not by any means oompa- ^ rable to those kinds of shooting, which are followed with dogs in the field, among varied srcncry and diverse accidents of sport ; nor is the bird very sportiug in its habits, nor is much skill required to shoot him. He is, however, delicious to eat; he literally abounds on the reedy mud-llats of those rivers which he affects ; and his season is one at which there is little or no other occupation for the sportsman. So that, between the epicurean desire for his flesh, the absence of more agreeable and exciting sport, and the very easiness of the pursuit, which, to young hands and bad shots, is a recommendation, the Rail is very eagerly pursued ; and dur- ing those periods of the tide, which pennit his pursuit, a stran- ger might well believe, during the Rail season, almost anywhere on the Delaware, sixty miles below, or thirty above Philadel- phia, that the outposts of two armies were engaged in a brisk skirmish, so incessant is the rattle of small arms. It is the habit of this little bird to skulk and run among the reeds and water-oats of the flats which he inhabits; and, owing to the peculiar form of his long, flat-sided, wedge-like body, with the legs situated far behind, and the wings closely com* \ \ k i ' ,i m Si 1 iiir; FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. pressed, he can pass with such ease and celerity among the close stiilks of the water-plants, that the sharpest dogs cannot compel him to take wing ; and so thoroughly is he aware of this advantage which he possesses, and of the peril he runs in rising before the gun, that it is utterly useless to attempt beating for him with dogs on foot, or to think of walking, or kicking him up from his lurking places, when the tide is down. As soon, howevei", as it has risen high enough to allow a boat to be forced through the partially submerged, partially floating grass, unable to run, from want of a solid substructure on which to tread, or to swim, from the denseness of the vegetation, he has no choice but to rise, which he does reluctantly^ and not until the bows of the boat are close upon him. His flight is then slow and heavy, with the legs hanging down, and the wings heavily flapping, and it is rarely protracted to above thirty or forty yards of distance. It is exceedingly easy to kill him, therefore ; so much so, that as soon as he mastered the slight difficulty of getting accustc^med to the motion of the boat, and got what a sailor would call his sea legs on board, the merest tyro, who can cover a bird on the wing in the slowest conceivable motion, and pull an inexpert trigger, can scarce fail to bag majiy of these birds in succession. The boat used is a long, light, flat-bottomed, shaip-built skiff", — flat to draw as little water as possible, shai'p to force its way through the heavy tangled water-plants. In the bow of this the shooter stands erect, balancing himself in the ricketty rockinp- egg shell, for it is little more, while the pole-man stands behind him, propelling the vessel with his long pimt-pole, the more ra- pidly the better, through the weeds and grass. The pole-man's duty is to steer and urge the boat, both of which are done by the same instrument, to mark the dead birds, and collect them, and to get the advantage of all other boats for his shooter. This marking is by no means an easy task ; as the vast expanse of level green herbage affords no points, or marks, by which to identify the spot where the bird hag fallen ; and, moreover, the reeds and grass are so thick, and so similar in DPLAND SHOOTING. 295 color to the plumage of the Rail, that unless it is marked with the most perfect accuracy, literally to a foot's space, it is almost useless to look for it. So many boats, moreover, are darting about in all directions, the i"ival pole-men driving their skiffs with all attaiualde velocity, and the emulous shooters banging away at the thick-rising birds, without much caring \vhcther some other sportsman be or be not within the range, and in the line of shot, that m order to get good sport, not a moment must be lost in bagging the dead birds, — cripples it is impossible to bag, so quickly do they dive, and so cunningly do they skulk, — and that at best it is a matter of some little risk. Fortunately, the bii'd is so easily killed, and the range of his flight is so small, that very light charges, and very small shot, are in use. With the reckles&ncss I have seen displayed in this sport, were large charges, frnd heavy shot used, it would be an affair of real danger to shoot at Dullman's Flats, at the mouth of the Neshaminy, or at Perkins' Flats, or Newbold's Island— the best places above Philadelphia, on the Delaware, and the only places, with the exception of a small flat, of an acre or two in extent, before my own door on the Passaic, where I have ever shot Rail. The great onus and excellence of the sport depends, as it will readily be seen, on the polei-man, or pusher, and with two equally good shots, it shall make a difference of nearly half the bag, which has the better assistant. The skill at marking dead bii'ds, the rapidity of bagging them, and the adroitness at push- ing, to which some of these men attain, is truly remarka])le ; and accustomed to the society of gentlemen, and provided with a good stock of spoiling anecdote, and sporting information, they are generally very conversable, and discreet fellows, with whom a few hours can be spent, not only without tedium, but with Bome profit. John Horn, of Bristol, in Pennsylvania, is the best hand of these hai'dy aquatics I have ever encountered, and many a good day's sport and fun have I enjoyed in liLs company, and under his guidance, on the broad and tranquil Delaware. '■U Ml 1 .. I ■ii ■\'i f J06 FRANK FORESTETl's FIELD SPORTS. t .: m The time for beginning this spoit depends on the depth of water on the particular flat whereon you are about to try your fortune, — the moment the rising tide will permit your boat to run over and through the reeds, you must comraenco ; and j mr sport will continue so long as the birds will continue to rise be- fore you, which will generally be until about the fust ([uarter of the ebb ; but as the water falls, the Rail become less and less willing to take wing, — and in similar positions of the rising and falling tide, you shall flush twice as many Avhen it is making. There is little more to be said, on the head of this spoit, ex- cept to give a few hints as to accoutrements and equipage, on which, perhaps, next to the merits of your pole-man, the cele- rity of your shooting, and amount of your bag, will depend. The best position, as I have observed, for the shooter, is to stand, — and the best way to do this in the tottering a.nd fragile skiffs, is to plant the feet firmly a little way apart, with the left somewhat advanced ; not to brace your legs, or stiflen your knees, but rather to let the latter be a little bent, and to humor the motion of the boat, by swaying your body slightly in accord- ance with it, It does not much matter, however, except so far as you dread a ducking, reader mine, whether you chance to get overboard, or no, for the sport is pursued, invariably, in the shallowest of water, and dx'owning is out of the question, in the worst event. As the weather is generally warm, a light shooting-jacket, and straw hat, are as appropriate a di'ess as any. Your sluntest and your lightest gun, is the best tool for the sport ; but a largish landing-net, on a long, light pole, will bo found a very conve- iii(mt appendage, and will save your pole-man much time in bringing your dead birds to bag. Next, as regards loading, to do which very (piickly — at all times a great point, is here a sine qua non to good sjiort — use no shot-bag, and put the charger of your powder-horn down to its minimum of contents. Half the ordinary charge of powder, and threc-(juarters of an ounce of No. 9 shot, is an urnple clmrge for Rail. But if you are looking out for flock shooting at Reed- UPLAND SHOOTLNG. 291 I 'A bhds at the same time, as is usual, it is well to carry a second heavier gun, with an ordinary load of No. S. Sometimes Tenl, or o'.lie'- wild duck, come across you, especially while going up or donn the river to your ground, or returning from it; and for the chance of those, it is well to reserve a barrel, if not a gun, loaded with Eley's cartridges of No. 3 or 4. For greater convenience of loading, as you are always sta- tionary in one place, and have abundant space for conveniences, you will find it well to have a square wooden box, with two compartments, one capable of containing eight or ten pounds of shot, and the other a qnuntuni .vijf. of wadding ; a small tin scoop of the capacity named above, three-quarters of an ounce, lying on the shot, will save much trouble, and half the time in load- ing. This box, and your powder-horn, will lie on tlie bench oi' thwart before you, — your coppi^r caps you will keep in your waistcoat-pocket ; and by the precaution of being thus provided aforeliand, you will get three shots for two with a rival, who lugs his flask out of his pocket, and charges with a belt or pouch after every shot. No farther rules are needed, except the old one, which can- not be too often repeated, — take yiiur time, and be deliberate. Nay ! with the Rail you can afl'ord to be slow, for he shall rise within te.i feet of you, ninety-nine times of a hundred, and you shall miss him only by getting flurried, or by tumbling over- board. For the rest, though it really scarce deserves to be rated as a sport, or honored with a place among the nobler kinds of wood- craft. Rail shooting is a pi'etty pastime enough ; and when biids are abundant, and rise well, tlie rapid succession of shots, and the necessary rapidity of motion, creates an excitement, to which is often added the emulation of surpassing rival boats and gun- ners, — to which may again be superadded the stimuliiting ap- prehension of being peppiu'od soundly by a stray chargi' of mustard-seed, togetlier with the agreeable variations of vitupe- rati(m and recrimination, to which the said peppering may be expected to give rise. C ; Hi ll 298 J. I- FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. The Rail is, as I obseived before, capital eating. He is to be cooked and served exactly as the Snipe, with no sauce or condi ment whatever, but his own gravy caught upon a slice of crisp buttered toast, and a sprinkle of salt. Like all water-birds, lie is to be eaten f resit, the sooner after killing the better ! Twenty- four hours dead, he is not only ancient, but fish-like. Red wine is the liquor wherein he should be laid at rest within the inner man, as unquiet ghosts in a red sea ! Peace to him ! He shall sit lightly on your stomach, even if partaken at a rere supper. A few words, hereafter, concerning wild-fowl shooting in upland brooks, or stalking them on inland lakes, or pools, and I have finished my task, in so much as relates to Upland shooting. 1 I UPLAND SHOOTING. 999 DUCK SHOOTING, ON INLAND WATERS. N the Eastern and Midland States, unless on the borders of the great lakes, this sport of late years can hardly be said to exist at all. The birds' are becoming rare and wild, and, although still shot in sufficient numbers by the local gunners, on the streams of New- Jersey, to supply the demand of the markets, they are not found numerous enough to justify the pursuit of the sportsman. Fomi(!rly on the drowned lands of Orange county, on the meadows of Chatham and Pine Brook, on the Passaic and its tributaries, before the modem system of draining and embank- ing, hundreds, nay ! thousands of acres were annually covered with sIkiHow water, at the breaking up of winter, and tha inun- dated flats were literally blackened with all the varieties of Duck which I have heretofoi-e enumerated, affording rai'e sport to the gunner, and alluring gentlemen from the larger cities to follow them with the canoe ; in a day's paddling of which, among the inundated groves, aiid over the floated meadows, it was no unusual event, nor regarded in any wise as extraordinary good fortune, to kill a hundred fowl and upward of the diflerent va- rieties, all of which, however, are alike in one respect, that tliey are all delicious eating. I have myself been in the habit of con- aidering the Summer Duck as the most delicate and svicculent i! t "" i;' m 4 1 I . I 3U0 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. i !■: food of the inland, as distinguished from the ocean Ducks ; hut this is, I believe, owing greatly, if not entirely, to its being the best fed of its genus in the regions wherein I have been wont to eat it; for I understand that on the great lakes, and in tlie Western country generally, the Blue-winged Teal is regarded as its supcriur in epicurean ([ualificalioiis. All that kiad of shooting is now iit an end in this district of country ; and although they still abound on the great lakes along the Canada frontier, and eastward in the British pro vinces, the vast extent of those inland seas which they there fre- quent, renders it impossible, or at least so difficult as to become irksome, to take them, excejjt by lying at ambush on points over which tiiey fiy, and on the woody margins of the forest streams and inlets, which they frer^uent for the purpose of feeding and roosting. In such localities, where streams, debouching into the great lakes, {low through submerged and swampy wood- lands, the Ducks of all kinds are wont to fly regularly land- ward, in large plumjis, or small scattered parties, for an hour or two preceding sundown, — and a good shot well concealed in such a place, with a good double-gun, loaded with No. 4 up to BB, as n)ay be the nature of Jiis ground, and the species of his game, will frequently return from a single evening's expedition, loaded with twenty or thirty couple of wild-fowl. For this spf)rt, however, little or no advice is needed, — a good covert, a heavy gun, and a sufficient charge, are all that can be deemed requisite to success. The sport may, however, be ren- dered both more rapid and more exciting, by the introduction of the large Water Spaniel, well broken to fetch, to aid as a retriever. Every true sportsman knows how much zest and enjoyment is added to every kind oC field sports, by the adapta- tion to it, and the observation during its continuance, of the instinct and sagacity of trained animals; and tl;at of the water retriever is inferior to none. He must be trained to absolute muteness, and the most implicit obedience ; he must never stir from the spot in which he is ordered by a quiet gesture of his master's hand to crouch close — nay ! he must not prick his ear, i UPLAND SHOOTING. 501 ' ',.» *» or wag his tail, lest tlio quick eye of the watchful Duck, or their almost iutallil)le sense of heiiritig, detect either by sound or sight the impatient movement. (.)iice ordered to recover the dead, or, what is worse, the cripples, neither the cokl of the freezing lake, nor tlie rough billows of the stormy frith, must deter him. \n his perfection he is, and needs must be, the most intelligent, and tn) i'ar as end«urunco goes, the bravest of dogs ; and so far as the fowler's particular s[)ortun(jUesUonably lacks that variety and excitement, both of incident and [jursuit, which gives the great cuarm to every kind of shooting or hunt- ing, it will certainly be well to add to it the increased pleasure afibrded by the use of the retriever. I used to suppose that tiie best species of dog for the Upland retriever, is the lai'ge Water Spaiuel, ita, midoubtedly, for sea- fowl shooting the small, sharpish-eared, St. John's Newfound- land dog is preferable to all other races. In a work which has lately come before nie, however, of which I think very highly, 1 find the following observations, the corrcctness of which I be- lieve to be indisputable ; and I little doubt that the sort of dog here described, would be of general utility to the sportsman. The book to which I allude is " The Moor and the Loch," by Colquhoun, of Luss, who, in the sphere of wild sports, to whicli he has paid attention, is not, I think, inferior to C(d. Hawker, when mounted on his hoi)by of British sea-fowling. From this book, while on tiie prese-nt topic, I shall again quote ; and, without farther apology or explanation, proceed to extract his views as to the dog most fitting as the Duck-shooter's assistant, " Next in importance to the gun," says Mr. Colquhoun, " is a proper retriever. The Newfoundland is not quite the thing : first, his black color is against him" — white, of course, is out of the question — "brown is much to he preferred; then, I should wish my dog occasionally to assist me in this inland shooting, by beating rushes, or thick cover, up creeks, where you may often plant yourself in an open situation for a shot, and your dog put up the fowl, which are almost certain to fly down past you. m I t'! .J ■ ^ . I ' )r.t "J 1 i. 302 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. If you accustomed a Newfoundland dog to this, he might, frcjm his strength and vivacity, learn the trick of breaking away when you did not wish him. The best and most efficient kind of dog for this work, is a cross between a water-dog and largo terrier ; the terrier gives him nose, the water dog coolness and steadiness. I should say, that before you can procure one which, upon trial, may prove worth the gi-eat trouble of tho- roughly training, you may have to destroy half-a-dozen. You should begin your training when the dog is veri/ youTtg, and if you find out he is not turning out as you wish, seal his fate at once. The dog you want must be as mute as a badger, and cunning as a fox. He must be of a most docile and biddable disposition — the generality of this breed are so. They are also slow and heavy in their movements, and phlegmatic in their temper — great requisites ; but when fowl are to be secured, you will find no want either of will or activity, on land or water." Our Highland sportsman then proceeds, in allusion to the sub- ject of a wood-cut illustrating his work, which he states to be the best he ever saw, " he never gives a whimper, if ever so keen, and obeys every signal I maks with my hand. He will watch my motions at a distance, when crawling after wild-fowl, ready to rush forward the moment I have fired ; and never in one instance has he spoiled my shot. I may mention a proof of his sagacity. Having a couple of long shots across a pretty broad stream, I stopjjed a Mallard with each ban-el, but both were only wounded. I sent him across for the birds ; he at- tempted at first to bring them both, but one always struggled out of his mouth ; he then laid down one, intending to bring the other ; but whenever he attempted to cross to me, the bird left fluttered into the water ; he immediately returned again, laid down the first on the shore, and recovered the other ; the first now fluttered away, but he instantly secured it, and standing over them both, seemed to cogitate for a moment ; then, although on any other occasion he never ruffles a feather, he deliberately killed one, brought over the other, and then returned for the dead bird." ht, from ay when kiiul of nd largo ncss and ;ure one ,e of tho- 3n. You }g, and if lis fate at dger, and biddable ly are also c in tbeir « secured, or water.' to tlie sub- tates to be if ever so He will wild-fowl, |d never in )n a proof •ss a pretty si, but both ■ds; lie at- struggled ;o bi-ing the le bird left again, laid !!• ; the first id standing >Ti, although deliberately Led for the tTPLAND SHOOTING. 313 After proceoding to give some fiuthor informntion wiih re- sjiect to accoutrements, nmonir otliers of wliich he cxpati'itcs on the iihsoliite n^iccssily of a small pocket tclfscopi" ns part of the wild-tiiwl shooter's i'(piipage, ho gives an account in iwfin.so of tli<^ best metliod to bo adopted for fretting within sliot of wild- fowl, wlion seen feeding on, or within shot, of the shores of an inland loch or jiond. These, ws they arc of the utmost value and interest in themselves, as there are thousands of localities exactly sudi as ho describes, in every region of th(> T'^nited States, from the rock-girdled, pine-embosomed lakelets ofMaiee nnd the l^^astern States, to tlie limestone pools of the Pennsylva- nian Alleghanies, to the limpid basins set in the oak opeuings of Michigan and Illinois, to tlie gl(>aming waters that lie unshel- tei'ed from the sun's brightest beams in the centre of boundless prairies, all of which, in their proper seasons are absolutely alive with wild-fowl f)f every description, and as to all of these, my author's vie^v^s arc distinctly and directly applicable — I shall extract without alteration or abrid"« (\ upon bis poll glass : otten wood 3r be cabn. 3 be siippo- down ; tbe move. His vantage of a cbes to look I, be bas got lost caution, ualification, the reeii-lieafl" arc bird, but like ten shot up the in ctory, there are g the fowl until ere they conceal their wings and le river be large pect few heavy ng distant flying rn.AND SIIOOTINr,. 30.) enilcavor to catcb si.;]it of tluMii. I will suppose liim fcirtunaft* rrioui,r|i to do so, and that they are perfectly unconscious (»f Iii-i near ap[)roacli. He niUht lower liis head in the same cautious manner, and look for some refuijo at a fair distance from t!:c birds, through which he may fire tlu^ deadly sitting shot. After crawling seipent-like to this, he will again raise his liead I>y hair-breadths, and peeping tlnough the bush or tuft, select the greatest number of birds in line; then drawing back a lirt1(>, in order that his gun may be just clear of tlie bush for the second barrel, after having fired the first tlirough it, will take sure aim at his selected victims. Should he unfortunately not find an opening to fire through, the only otlier alt<'rnative is by almost imperceptible degrees to raise his gun to the n ay safclij allow for his last run, which in 1 i ■'I' 51 ; _ / • , i ■' H m Y if 310 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. ,1 , such a case must generally be a long one. The fowl are conti- nually coming up and disiippcaring again, wliich confuses him, and unless he knows the ilcpth of the loater, the only way to find out how long tliey arc under, is to walch the most marked or detached of the flock, and then choose his devoted pair. If the uater is very shallow, those below are sure to perceive tlie flurry made by their friends at the top, as soon as you commence your last run, and instantly join them in their retreat. In such cases it is always best to try ihr a distant sitting shot, from the nearest refuge you cnu safely reach, among as many as you can get in line. Eat by attempting tliis, there is always a I'isk of losing tlie chance altogether, and it should never be i-esorted to except under such circumstances, or ^vith Dun-birds,* who keep more close together, and tluis present a better opportunity for a heavy sitting shot than any other divers. "Of all wild-fowl, a flock of Dun-birds is the most agreea- ble to the sportsman's eye. They are the most stupidt of all the diver race. I have even seen them, after having been driven from their feeding ground, return in the face of tlie shooter, who had only lain down without any covering or con- cealment whatever; they have begun diving again within thirty yards, and of course given h.im a capital shf)t. I never wisli for assistance in manonivriiig any otlier kind of water-fowl, but these may be herded like sheep ; and, if feeding on one side of ■ii! * The DMn-l)ir(l, or Pociiard of England, is tlie same as our Red-head, Fuli- giihi FeriiKi, which is witti lis a sea Dunk, only frequentin-j the hays and estuaries of large rivers ; although, like the Canvass-haek, it is lound westward far inland, on the ujjper wat. is of the Ohio, Mississippi, and Missouri. t This agrees well with wiiat we know of the facility with whieh they are toled, as it is called, hy tlie most simple artifice, even the waving of a liand- kerchief, into gun-shot, on the waters of the Chesapeake Hay. I do not sep» but that this hint maybe found available in Bay-shooting. I know tiial JJnint Get se may be driven by a man rowing, at such a distance from them as not to alarm them into taking wing, uj) to the very muzzle of a concealed .sportsnians gun. This is, I think, a recently discovered habit of the Brant ; but is now regularly acted upon, on the south side of Long Island. On the first opporta- uity I will certainly try it witii Red-heads. UPLAND SHOOTING. 311 VJ a bay, you have only to conceal yourself at the other, and send your man round to where they are diving. Tliey will most likely come straight towards you, and, again beginning to feed, will probably every five or ten minutes ilraw all together with their lieads up. Xow is your time to fire, if you have the uood frrtune to be within shot; but sliould you pi'efer two iiirds in the hand to waiting for their knitting together, you may huvc a capital right and left when they come up from diving : I liow- ever, should be loath to lose the <)pp(jrtunity of the sitting shot. " There are many other divers that frecpient our lochs, such as the tufted* and scaupt Ducks, &c., but they may all be ap- proached in the same way as the Grolden-eyc and the Morillon ; none are so shy as the former.| Those that feed on (ish, such * The Riiiif-iieckecl Duck of America. Fuligula Rufitoripirf!. t The Scaup-duck — in the West, Flocking Fowl — ou tlie C'liesupciike, Black-head — commonly Bluo-hill, or Broad-bill, Fu'.i I 312 FRANK FORESTEU'S FIELD SPORTS. i ; I as the G oosander, Speckled Diver, Sheldrake, &c., require ra- ther difierent tactics. To get a shot at any of these, you must watch which way they are feeding, and, taking your station somewhat in advance, wait until they pass you ; they will not keep you long, as they are very rapid in their movements. Take care that the water is pretty deep whei'e you place yourself, or they may dive at too great a distance from the shore for a shot; but, after all, they are good for nothing but tc be stuffed for a collection. " The only other bird that requires a separate notice is the mighty Hooper,* monarch of the flood. To get a shot at the Wild Swan is the gre'dt object of the sportsman's desire : he is not naturally so shy a bird as the Wild-Jm.-k. but still his long neck, and acute sense of hearing, render great caution neces- sary. If, as often hajipens, he is feeding along the shore, you have only to plant yourself in an advantageous situation a good way a-head, and it will not be long before he makes his appear- ance ; but if he is feeding at the mouth of some brook or stream, you must crawl in the same way as whe-i after Wild-ducks. Should you get within a distant shot of a .tIoo])ei, and are not close to the water side, instead of firing rom where ycni are, rush down to the edge of the loch, and before the Swan can take wing, you will have gained ten yards upon him. When the thaw begins aftei' very hard weather, they are almost sure to be feeding at the mouths of any mountain burns that run into the loch. Should you see Hoopers feeding greedily, nearly out of rango of your gun, in pku'e of takhig tlie random sliot, try to pi'evenl llieii- bi-iiig disturbed, and return at dusk of evening, or grey of morning, when they will most likely have come pretty close to the shore, especially if any little rivul(!ts run Into the loch ,iear : this rule applies tf) most water-fowl. If a Swan be * Tliis is a difTerent bird from tlit- Swan of tlie Ciiesapcake, Cijcuus Ainiri- taints, tlioiitrji cloFpIy coiriiate. Our bird never. I fancy, betaUt'K liiniself to I»kes, or tiip lilte, '.vitiiin the limits of t!ie United States, thougii he is said to di) BO in the far West, neyond tiio IMissisbippi and Rocky Mountains UPLAND SIIOOTTXG. 313 ^uive ra- ou must • station Avill not s. Take urself, or r a shot ; Ted for a ice is the u)t at the live : he is .11 his long ion neces- shore, you ion a good his appear- |i or stream, Vild-clucks. ud are not LG you are, Swan can m. When olmost sure Kit run into nearly out shot, try to evening, or ome pretty ,in into the a Swan be Ujcitiis A\:t^.n- lu's hinisolf to he is said to do alarmed hy an enemy on shore, his wont is not to fly, hut to swim majestically away. " Widgeon* and Teal are approached in the same way '•■■- Wild-ducks, only the Widgeon are less shy than the D^' ' s ii- I the Teal than the Widgeon. You may sometimes, in cjiliu weather, see Widgeon in a large flock purring and whirftling a couple of hundred yards from the shore; you need give your- self no trouble about them, as they will probably not leave their resting-place until they feed in the evening. Always try to get a heavy shot at Widgeon, which, with a little patience, you may generally accomplish. Teal are usually in small flocks ; so that, if you can get two or three in line, you had better fire, for fear of losing the sitting chance altogether. I once killed six at a shot; but, except when they collect in small ponds and drains about the loch-side, so good an opportunity seldom oc- curs. I have occasionally seen Shovellei's on our lochs ; but only in the hardest winters. They resemble Wild-ducks in llieir habits : the f)nly one I ever shot was among a flock of Ducks. " Good sport need never be expected when the loch is large, as many of the fowl swim up creeks, and among the morasses in shore, where it is diflicult even to got allying shot; while those that remain on the margin of the loch are so concealed by tlie bushes, &;c., that it is quite impossible to see them. The lower the loch the better; at all events, the shore should be clearly defined. At such times wild-fowl have always favorite haunts Ibr feediiiix and resting. " Tlun"e is a common saying, that specimens ot all the diife- lent kinds of water fowl which fre(]uent the loch in winter, pre- sent themselves during the hiirvest moon. This is ei'roneous ; for even the Mcn-illon, eiu'liest of the diver ti'ibe, seldom appears so soon, and the Tufted and Scaup Ducks, Dun-birds, &:c., never * A diffiTdit bird, tliou^li not uuliiie our Widiroou, Annfi Amcriraitn, tli« BiiI'J-iKilf. It is \vortl\y of notice, tliat tlie \Vi(i;reon of tlio Ch-^Si'iJtMlve is ciii- Bidficd tlie sliyest and most diiricult to toje, of all the Ducts M'hic'' fi-jqiipnt Jioso waters. I ( 4 i ! ^ ' ! 1 314 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. until tlic winter sets in.* Multitudes of Wild-ducks do come down from the moors, during harvest, to feed upon the corn- fields on the banks of some of the larger lochs, and, when the stuhble becomes bare, rctui'u to the moor-lochs until these are frozen over, which again drives them back. This is the only foundation for the vulgar error. A d;iy or two is generally sufficient to freeze over these little lochs, Jind their occupants then come down to the larger ones, the greater parts of which remain opi'u long after the storm has set in. Now is the time for the wild-fowl shooter : if the ground is covered with snow, so much the better. The fowl are then in groups close to the shore, pinched with cold and hunger, seeking shelter and a scanty morsel. If at the same time it is windy, with drifts of snow, no weather can be more propitious fo: Ducks, Widgeon, Teal, s, and treatment of do'.'-, -nA the liki- topics, it is on llrirish sportinu^ iiuthors especially. I'h lOst exclusividy, that I. sh;ill rely; but, in fact, tlie <;anie of Aii:ei ic;i, is so (lill'erent, the ])lai'(;s and modes o!" taking it so niucli ;il va- riance, and the habits of the few aninuils of cliase, which nni nearly allied in the two countries, arci so com[)letelv disiiuct from those of England, that the precepts of tlu; best Enirlish Bportiug writers ai'e useless here. Of Col. Hawker's ureat work, above half^ — which half was very properly rejected by itts able American editor — relates to fowl shooting, and fowling ' I . ^ 1^ 9 1^ I. n M! 316 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. apparatus, as practiced and adopted on the coast of England, all wliich would be of no more use to a sportsman here, than a treatise on archery of the fourteenth century to a Kentucky rifleman. The above extracts are practical, and applicable to any and every country, and cannot fail to be found generally useful. The only other observations to be made on Upland fowl shooting, relate to the quality of gun most af^'MJted to the sport, and the size of shot, grain of powder, and the like, which are, of course, all more or less different from those used in Upland shooting for ordinary game. To a person living in a country where this sport can be rea- dily and often pursued, and who is an amateur in it, a gun espe- cially made for the purpose is indispensable. It must be a double-barrel, and as heavy as can conveniently be carried ; the more metal, the less recoil, and the greater force of propul- sion ; extreme length is utterly useless — nay, detrimental ! — for a gun of four feet barrel must either be unmanageably pon- derous, or must be so light at the breech as to become top-heavy. All that is requisite is a gun that will throw from two to three ounces of No. 3 or 4 shot, very strong, and very regularly dis- tributed. For any ordinary purpose, two ounces of shot is suffi- cient ; and in my opinion the gun which will do that as effec- tively as any that can be made, is one of 12-guage, 36 inches barrel, and 9 to 10 lbs. weight. A gun of this kind can be fur- nished by ISIr. Mullin, of Barclay street. New- York, next door to the " Spirit of the Times" office, for a hundred dollars, of ex- cellent quality ; and I only give an oi)inion on ^vhich I have acted, and not been disappointed, when I say that I would ra- ther have a gun of his workmanship made to my order, for any price not exceeding one hundred and fifty dollars, than any im- ported gun at the same rate. The high qualities of English guns are not to be surpassed, but crui.i.io be furnished by any first-rate maker short of — appur- tenances included — <£56. This, with 30 per ct. ad vaJorc?ii duty added, shipping charges, &c., will amount to a very large price. UPLANE SHOOTING. 317 Nevertheless, I say, if any man he disposed to go to the trouhle of importing an English gun at all, let him import a first-rate and first price London, article. I never saw a Birmingham gun I would have cared to shoot with ; and I do not consider that Westley Richards' merits at all equal his reputation. I consider Purdey, Lancaster, and Moore and Gray, the first three makers of the day ; and were I offered the gift of a gun, with the choice of the maker, I should name the latter house as my makers. No. 4 shot I consider quite large enough for any kind of fowl, imless Canada Cfeese, or Wild Swans ; hut I would al- ways use a green. Eley's cartridge in one ban .1. The best powder, beyond all question or comparison, for fowling, and es- pecially sea shooting, is what is called Hawker^ s Duching Powder, prepared by Curtis and Harvey, as the diamond grain of the same house is by all odds the quickest, stronfjcst, and cleanest powder in the world. The grain of the ducking powder is ex- tremely coarse — coarser than cannon powder — and very hard ; it is not, therefore, liable to become damp or lifjucfied, wh(>n exposed to a saline atmosphere. Notwithstanding the large size of its grain, it is readily ignited even in a small gun, by one of Starkey's central fire waterproof caps. One of these, for an experiment, I kept forty-eight hours in a tumbler full of \vatt'r, and it exploded quickly and cleanly. There is nothing like them, — but, like all good things, they are dear. For the rest, a person who cares to keep but one gun, will find himself able to do good wcrk with a general shooting piece of 14guiigo, 32 inches barrei, and 8 lbs. weight, even at fowl, if he uses No. 4, Eley's wire cartridges. Verhum sap. And so adieu to Upland shooting. •; I; I i :i i 1 ii f I t; .1 ^ ^ I -A* If' 31S FRANK FORESTER S FiEI.r! SPORTS. SPORTING DOGS ?u , ni S without the ai i v? vvcll "bred and well Invoke logf, no gnme can he either su<"< essfully or sci- entificallly pursued, nnd as in tho manafTcmont of tliis rohle nni- mal hoth in the kennel nnd tlie fiekl consists, perhaps, the great- er part of tho true science of woodcraft, no work on fickl sports can he esteemed in any- wise complete, which does not treat of their hreeds, charncter- istics and general treatment ; whether in health, in sickness, in the house, or in the field. This portion of my subject, I there- fore, now approach, without farther ol)servati(m than this, that neither a complete liistory of canine pathology, nor a full treatise on dot^-breakirig nnist he looked for within the limits of such a bodk as this, and that a few general directions and hints only can be afforded on a topic which has itself occupied many volumes, devoted to it entirely by writers of competent talent and experience. Two of these, more especially, should lie found in every sportsman's library, I mean Youatt on the Dog, and Blaine's Canine Pathology. Of the first of these works a handsome edition has been recently published by Messrs. Lea & Blan- m THE SETTER 1 1 H UPLAND SIIOOTINO. 310 chard f)f Pliil;i(l«,'l[»lii!i, undor tlio (Mliloriid supiu'visioii of E. J. Fitnvis, M. D., of" that city, a jrciitU'inaii wlio has juM-t'crin- cd liis p!iit with croditaljlu accuracy, diUifciici' and rcsfaicli ; 11)1(1, \vhi)SO f()iidii(;ss for tlir aiiiiiial in <|ucstiim, and his Um'j; etudyofits p(>ctdiantic!S, entitle his ohsciva ions to n'spcctlul attt'ntion; akhough to somt; of his views, especially in re(V^''d to hreedintf and races, I must enter my dissent. Tht? latte' hook has never, [ htdieve, heeu re[>ublislied in America, hut the English edition is not costly, and may l)e obtained from any ( onsihu'ahle bookseller in llie United States. With these two guides and text-hooks in liis possession tlie sportsman will ho hitle at a loss in regard either to tlie dia'.ruosis or treatment of disetises, which lie must perforce attend to personally in this country, as veterinary surgeons are neitluir numerous noi skilful, generally s[)eaking, even in the larger cities, while in the cuuiitfy districts they d/v not; and even wlusre they are, canine pathology is little understood or prcjfessed by them. To proceed at once then in med'uis res, the races of sporting dogs used in upland shooting, are three in number, the Setter, the Pointer and the Spaniel, and of each race several varieties are in use, all being of the division known as sogaces, being distinguished by their (pxalities of instinct and powers of scent- ing, in contradistinction to speed or fercjcity. Of these the best known, and most generally used, and 1 must think with justice, as superior in beauty, endurance and aptitude to our climate and style of shooting, is The origin of this beautiful and admirable species is beyond a doubt, the large land Spaniel improved by judicious breeding to his peculiar size and beauty, and taught, until teaching has become second habit, and the result of training grown into an hereditary instinct, to mark his game by setting or crouching, instead of flushing it on the instant. VOL. I. 23 \ i Hi IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) fe o i^.^ 'A 1.0 1.1 l£^|2£ |2.5 1.8 IK IL25 i 1.4 UM 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4S0J \ V ■1>^ rv 'H,'- '^^ 320 FRANK Faui:sTi;n .s fihld stouts M f P A threat doal of absuid imiisi'iisd lias hcni wriucii iihout tlio Dri'i'd and raco of tlur SultiT, iVoni llic mass ol'whicli I sliall stiluct tlie lollowiiii^ piissairo lor two reasons, liisl that it ipaclics tlio very ( Iini:ix ol" |)(»ssil)K! stnpidity, and second, tliat il is iVoni ilio pen of one who sliould know hetter, at least to merit llie icpnta- tion lie has ac(juired ; heintr no oilier than tlu^ piMsoii who has gained veiy eonsideraltle celebrity as tlu; author of" The Sj)()rts- man in I'' ranee," " Tlu^ Sportsman in Ireland and Scotland," mid " The Sportsman in Canada." Aft(M- staliiiiT that the SettiM' is his fiivoiito dog in llu; field, and parenlly, that it is very unnec(\ssary to set about making, what nature has alii;ady made in })erfection to our hand, and (piilc; ignorant, il should sei'm, tli;it it is impossible to make a })Uic! strain from any com- bination of crosses. Then; is no doubt whati-ver that ihe true Setter is a pure strain of unmixed Spaniel blood, the oidy improvement produced in the breed arising from its judicious cultivation, by the selection of the largest, healthiest and hand- somest individuals of both sexes I'rom which to rear a progcMiy, and by the careful development of their (pialities, by scientific feeding, exercising, and bringing into condition. The following receipt may tlierefore make a useful mongrel, but can no more make a Setter, than crossing a Quagga, a Zebra and a Cana- dian jxiny — all varieties of the horse breed — can make a thorough-bred. " The preliminary step," he says, " is to put a fine bred and tincxceptionable Pointer bitch to a noted Foxhound ; you will then have laid the foundation of three essential qualities, speed, nose and eourage. Docility and sagacity are also recjuisites, and to obtain them cross the oflsjiring with the small and slender race of Newfoundland dog. The produce will be as near perfection as possible ; they will take to the water, re- ti'ieve, and for general shooting will be found tlie very best and most useful animal the sportsman can desire." wj; UPLAND SHOOTING. 3Jl out Jie U Kt'loOt lies tlio ioiii iliu ii'|)Ut:i- \\\\n liiiS ■ Sjtnl'ts- olluml," L nnice, {•{'\\)\ Tor lliat. it irt s aliciidy il slioulcl any com- l tliu tiiio the only judicious and liaud- pi<>u,i'iiy, sciculilic i\)ll()vviiig no more id a Caua- niake a 3 bred and you will u>s, .speed, reiiuisiles, small and will be as water, re- ry best and I quote the above as I have said, merely to caution the sportsman airainst t;ivinir ihi! least heed t(» any such sfuH', and to warn iiim to avoid any crossing or inti'rniixlure of i)i»fds as lie would the plai^ue. J I" lit; jucfer the Pointer, let him stick to Pointer, but let it he a Pointer pure. If Setttsr, let him ilo tilt! same. Any mixture, even ot" tliose two kiiidre-d blonds is in nine eas(!S out ot" ten, disadvantaffeous, and instead ol coni- l)ining the peculiar excellt.'ucies, the produce is very apt to unil(! tlu! worst (pialities ol" the several strains, superadded to a BuUenness and badness ot" temper, which is in some sort, the characteristic ot"all nmles. Mr. Lewis is under the impression, as 1 jrather i"rom his comments on Youatt, that it is the tashicHi in lOnjrlarul, to intermix Setter and I'ointer blood, hy way of im[)iovin^ iho former, and that the majority ot" ljn, UPLAND SHOOTING. S25 sometimes suspected a Spaniel cross. A chncolate-coloretl nose I look upon as very suspicious, and a flesh-colored, or white nose, I think indicative of softness of constitution. Tjie Irish Setter is either pure red, or red and white, or yellow and white spotted. His nose, lips, and j)alatc, are inva- riably black. His coat is somewhat more wiry, and his frame more bony and muscular than the Englisli dour. He is the har- diest and most dauntless of the race, and, though apt to be some- what unmanageable and headstrong, if ho is suificiently worked, and managed with a tight hand, these faults can be kept down, while his indomitable pluck, his rapidity, his perseverance, and his dash, render him, in my opinion, for the real hard-workino- epoitsman, prel'erable h) his English brother. Tnn Scotch and Welsh Setters are in no respect distinct varieties, and only differ from the English, as being inferior in purity of blood. The Irish dog is undoubtedly the original type of the Setter in Great Uritain. The Russian Setter is, however, clearly a distinct variety; and it is a little remarkable that this race has never been des- cribed in any American work, and that Mr. Youatt, and his editor, Dr. Lewis, seem to be alike unaware of its existence. It is rather taller than the English dog, and is very muscular and bony. The head is very much shorter and rounder than that of any otlier Setter, and is covered with such a fleece of coarse woolly hair, that unless it is clipped away from thr brows, the animal can scarcely sec. The whole body is covered by a coat of l variety in its purity ; and in my boy- hood, my fattier, tiu; hite Dciin of Mancliester, liad some excel- lent dogs of the llussian brei'd, one of which, Charon, was the best dog, far or near, over which I ever have drawn a trigger. As the excellence of the Setter or Pointer is a mooted (jues- tion, and one of great utility and impoitan(;e to the sportsman, I am not willing to rely solely on my own judgment therein, and have, on this account, extracted from the American edition of YouMtt, Dr. Lewis' opinion of the merits of the Setter, com- pared WITH THOSE OF THE PoiN'TER. " It cannot for a moment be doubted," he says, " that the Setter has superior advantages to the Pointer, for hunting over our uncleared country, although the Pointer has many qualities that recommend him to the sportsman, that the Setter does not possess. In the first place, the extreme hardiness and swiftness (»f foot, natural to the Setter, enables him to get over much mo7(! ground than the Pointer, in the same space of time. Their feet also, being more hard and firm, are not so liable to become sore from contact with our frozen ground. The ball-pads being well protected by the Spaniel toe-tufts, are less likely to be wounded by the thorns and burs with which our woods are crowded during the winter season. His natural enthusiasm for hunting, coupled with his superior physical powers, enables him to stand much more work than the Pointer, and oftentimes he appears quite fresh upon a htng-continued hunt, when the other will be found drooping and inattentive. " The long, thick fur of the Setter, enables him to wend his way thrcnigh briary thickets without injury to himself, when a similar attempt on the part of a Pointer, would result in his ears, tail and body being lacerated and streaming with blood. " On the other hand, the Pointer in superior to the Setter in retaining his acquired ])owers for hunting, and not being natu- rally enthusiastic in pursuit of game, he is more easily broken and kept in proper bubjection. ft' UPLAND SHOOTING. 327 nv much Their to he " The Setter frequently requires a partial rehreaking at the commencement of eadi season, in his younger clays, ovvinj^ to the natural eagerness with wliich he resumes the spnit. The necessity of this, however, diminishes witli age, as the charac- ter and habits of the d !g become more settled, and then we may tc'ike tliein into the field, with a perfi-ct assurance of their be- having quite as well on the first hunt of the season, as the B'aunchest Pointer would. " The extreme caution, and mechanical powers of the Pointer in the field, is a barrier to his flushing the birds, as is oitcn wit- nessed in the precipitate running of the Setter, who winds the game, and frequently overruns it, in his great anxiety to coino up with it. Put this occasional fault on the part of the Setter, may be counterbalanced by the larger (juantity of game that ho usuJilly finds in a day's hunt, owinir to his cntlmslasm and swift- ness (»f foot. Setters require much more water while hunting than the Pointer, owing to their thick covering of fur, encou- raging a greater amount of insensible perspiration to fly off than the thin and short dress of the Pointer. Consequently they are better calculated to hunt in the coldest seasons than early in our falls, which are frequently quite dry and warn). " A striking instance of this fact came under our own imme- diate observaticm this fall, when shooting in a range of country thinly settled, and uncommonly dry. The day being warm, and the birds scarce, the dogs sufft'red greatly f ,n.a thirst, inso- much that a very fine Setter, of uncommon botto i, was forced to give up entirely, com])letely prostrated, foaming at the mouth in the most alarming manner, breathing heavily, and vomiting from time to time a thick frothy mucus. " His prostration of both muscular and nervous powers was so great, that he could neither smell nor take the slightest notice of a bird, although placed at his nose. He could barely manage to drag one leg after the other, stopping to rest every ^cw mo- ments, and we were fearful that we should be obligeil to slioul der and cany him to a farm-house, a considerable distance off. However, he succeeded, with much difficulty, in reacliing the 328 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. i 'ft f f liffl- \\i well, where ho greetlily drank several pints of water, adminis- tered to him with caution. " He recovered almost immediately, gave me a look of thanks, and was off to the fields in a few moments, where he soon found a fine covey of birds. " The Pointer, his associate in the day's work, and a much less hardy dog, stood the hunt nnnnrkahly well, and seemed to sufl'fi- little or no inconvenience from the want of water. The Setter lias natural claims up(m the sportsman and man gene- rally, in his iiffectionato disposition, and attachment to his mas- ter, and the many winning manners he exhibits towards those by whom he is caressed. " The Pointer displays but little fondness for those by whom he is sun'ounded, and hunts equally as well for a stranger as his master." In this testimony in behalf of the Setter, on the part of an American gentleman, of scientific, no less than sportsmanlike attainments, I shall add the following quotation from "Craven's Reci'eations in Shooting," a very clever English work — in which, by the way, I find myself quoted, without credit, as an American sportsman, concerning our field sports — in which the question is fully debated, and the excellence of the Russian Setter upheld by competent authority. " Having now disposed," says Craven, " of that which by a slight license, may be tenned the poetry of shooting, before en- tering upon its mere household stuff, allusion comes in aptly to its intellectual agents. Although as a pi'inciple, we have re- commended the use of the Pointer in especial to the young dis- ciple of the trigger, the first place, among shooting dogs, must be awarded to the Setter. In style and dash of ranging, in courage, and capacity of covering gi'ound ; in beauty of form, and grace of attitude ; in variety of color, and elegance of cloth- ing, no animal of his species will at all bear comparison with him. As the respective merits of the Pointer and the Setter, however, have long been a mooted question among sportsmen, UPLAND SHOOTING. 320 we have murli pleasure in layini^ before tlic reader the opinion on this suVtjnct of one of the most experienced autliorities in Enqland. We speak of Mr. Lan'j^. the well-known f^uiimiiker of the Haymarkft, to Avliom we are indebted for the subjoined letter to that interestiiiir incjuiry : — " ' Ilaviii'^ had considerables expeiienro in brcodini^ from some ofthc firsr kennels in Enu[lanen right, fir the Russians got three points to his one. I therefore resolved to try some others airainst them the next season ; and having heard a gentleman, well known as an excellent judge, speak of a brace of extraordinary dogs he had seen in the neighborhood of his Y( rkshire moors, with his recommendation I purchased them, I shot to them in August 1840, and their beauty and style of performance were spoken of in terms of praise by a correspondent to a spoiting paper. In September I took them into Somersetshire, fully anticipating that I should tjive the Russians the go-by; but I was again disappointed, I found, from the wide ranginir of my dogs, and the noise consefpient upon their going: so fast through Btubbles and turnips — ]>articuhirly in the middle of the day, when the sun was powerful, and there was but little scent — that they constantly put up their birds out of distance ; or, if they did get a point, that the game would rarely lie till we could get ■1.: i« { 332 FRANK FORKSTER S FIELD SPORTS. 11 m :'r'ff to it. The Russians, on the contrary, being much closer rangers, quartei'ing their ground steadily — heads and tails up — and possessing perfection of nose, in extreme heat, wet, or cold, enabled us to bag double the head of game that mine did. Nor did they lose one solitary wounded bird ; whereas, with my own dogs, I lost six brace the first two days' Partridge shooting, the most of them in standing corn. " ' INIy old friend and patron, having met with a severe acci- dent while hunting, determined to go to Scotland for the next three years, Seeing that my dogs were well calculated for Grouse shooting, as they had been broken and shot to on the moors, and being aware of my anxiety to possess the breed of his Russians, he very kindly offered to exchange them for mine, with a promise I would presen'e a brace of Russian puppies for him. Although I had refused fifty guineas for my brace, I most gladly closed with his ofter. Since then I have hunted them in company with several dogs of high character, but nothing that I have yet seen could equal them. If not taken out foi six months, they are perfectly steady, which is a quality rarely to be met with. Every sportsman must know, that the fewer dogs he can do his work with properly, the better; for if thoy are in condition, they cannot be too frequently hunted ; and their tempers, style of working, &c., become more familiar to him. On this the whole comfort of shooting depends. Upon these grounds I contend that, for all kinds of shooting therefore there is nothing equal to the Russian, or half-bred Russian Set- ter, in nose, sagacity, and every other qualification that a dog ought to possess. It may appear an exaggeration, but it is my opinion, in which I am supported by many of the first sportsmen in England, that there is not one keeper in fifty that knows how to manage and break a dog efficiently. Il is a common practice for keepers to take their dogs out for an hour or two, twice or thrice a week, moniing or evening, just before the commencement of the season — what would be thought of training a horse in that way, for a race over the flat, or a stee- ple-chase ? Hard and constant work is as necessary for a dog, tJPLAXD SHOOTING. 333 that has to hunt from morning to night, and frequently for several successive clays, as for a race-horse. He should be taken out two or tliiee hours daily, in the middle of the day, to use him to the heat, for three or four weeks before the season begins ; and let me observe in conclusion ; that if his master were to adopt a similar course, he would have good cause to rejoice in the precaution before the end of his first we;3k'9 shooting.' " Another gentleman, a large breeder of sporting doci:s, thus answered our queries as to the kind of animal best suited to the general purpose of shooting : — " ' T have tried all sorts, and, at last, fixed upon a well-bred Setter, as the most useful. I say well-bred, for not many of the dogs with feathered sterns, which one sees now-a-days, are worthy the name of Setter. Pointer fanciers object to Setters on i'r;count of their requiring more water; but there are gene- rally sufficient springs and peat-holes on the moors for them ; and, even in the early pait of September, a horse-pond or ditch is to be met with often enough. For cover, or Snipe-shooting, the Setter is far superior, facing the thorns in the cover, and tlie wet in the bogs, without coming to heel, shivering like a })ig in the ague. I have always found, too, that Setters, when well broke, are finer tempered, and not so easily cowed as Pointers. Should they get an unlucky undeserved kick, Don, the Setter, wags his tail, and forgets it much sooner than Carlo, the Pointer. INIy shooting lying near the moors, takes in every description of country, and I always find that, after a good rough day, the Setter will out-tire the Pointer, though, perliaj)S, not start quite so flash in the morning. " ' I always teach 07ic, at least, of my dogs to bring his game, which saves a world of trouble, both in and ut of cover, but never allow him to stir for the bird until after loading. Should any of these remarks prove of service, I shall feel most happy / in having assisted a brother sportsman.' " To this I will only add, that I have both seen and owned Setters, which on the first day of the season were as steady and 334 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. r' C as perfectly under command, as on the last ; that I have seen them tried, day in and day out, for weeks together, with the most admirable imported Pointers, and that they proved always equal to them ; in late Snipe-shooting, when the water is cold and skimmed with ice, or m autumn shooting in thorny and briary covert, they heat them out of sight. I may mention here a brace which I possessed, and over which I shot eight seasons, never allowing any person to hunt them on a single occasion after their leaving the breaker's hands, except myself, and keeping them at steady work. One was a liver and white English dog, broke by Mr. Sandford, of New- Jersey, whom I have mentioned before ; the other a red Irish Setter, with a white ring and four white stockings, broke by Dilke. They were both undeniable dogs, but the liver and white was the best retriever I ever saw. The test of their ex- cellence is in the fact that in 1836, the late Mr. Peter G. Barker, of New- York offered me, and I refused, ejght hun dred dollars for the brace. They had cost me two hundred, and I had shot over them four seasons afterward, when the price was bid. I have only farther to say that I never regretted the refusal, as I never saw in all respects a brace of dogs so perfect. I shall now proceed to the Pointer. THE POINTER. ■" *" It is conceded that this animal is the offspring of the two ancient races known as sagaccs, or intelligent, and pugrtaces or heUicosi, or warlike, and I am inclined to think, myself, that his share of the latter blood, is even greater than is generally im- aghicd. His intelligence, except so far as indicated by his power of scenting his game, is of rather a low order, and though docile and easily commanded, he is not generally sagacious, oi affectionate. Neither his temper nor other qualities, except in the field, greatly recommend him j but for the steady pursuit of n UPLAND SHOOTING. 335 hig game in the open plain, his great caution in not over- running it, his great capacities of enJuriiig heat and thirst, and liis retentive momory of what he has been tauglit, un.jual- ifii'd by any headstrong or impotuous dus!i, render him, tor the pursuit of some species of animals and for some localities, unrivalled. Of the latter there are few in this country. The sandy GJ-rouse bj^i'rens of Long Island, Martha's Vineyard and the New- Jersey Pine-grounds, while there were Grouse on them, were well adapted to the display of his peculiar and char- acteristic excellencies. The Grouse mountains of Pennsylvania are so rocky and so much beset with stubs that his bare feet, unless protected with buckskin boots, through which the claws must be suffered to protrude, will not enable him to bear the wear and tear of daily work. Some of the western praries, which are drj/ and deficient of water, are well suited for him, as in Wisconsin and parts of Michigan ; and there, he is prized, and deservedly. Of this animal there are two breeds, separate and conspicuous, of which all the others are varieties, and none of the litter suf- ficiently peculiar or different either in appearance or qualifica- tions to merit any especial description or notice. These two breeds arc the Old Spanish Pointer, which is the origin and type of the race, and the improved, or English Pointer. Of the former, the Portuguese, and of the latter, the French Pointer, are coarser and inferior varieties, — all the points attributed to the last-named dog as characteristic, namely, large head, pendent ears, and thick tail, being common to every coarse, ill-lired English dog. " The Spanish Pointer," says Mr. Youait, " originally a native of Spain, was once considered to be a valuable dog. Ho stood higher on his legs, but was too large and heavy in his limbs, and had widely spread ugly feet, exposing him to fre- quent lameness. His muzzle and head were large, correspond- ing with the acuteness of his smell. His ears were large and pendent, and his body ill-formed. He was natui-allyan ill-tern- pei-ed dog, growling at the hand that would caress hira, even VOL. I. 24 i II I •! 336 FRANK FORESTER S FIELD SPORTS. \ !■ although it were his master's. He stood steadily to his birds ; but it was difficult to break him of chasing the Hare. He was deficient in speed. His redeeming quality was his excellent scent, unequalled in any other kind of dog. " To convince our readers of the value of this particulai breed, we may mention the very singular sale of Col. Thornton's dog Dash, who was purchased by Sir Richari Symons for one hundred and sixty pounds' worth of Champagne and Burgundy, a hogshead of Claret, and an elegant gun and another Pointer, with a stipulation that if any accident befell the dog, he was to be returned to his former owner for fifty guineas. Dash unfor- tunately broke his leg, and in accordance with the agreement of sale, was returned to the Colonel, who considered him a for- tunate acquisition as a stallion to breed from. See Blain or Daniel." This animal, which was once considered very valuable, is now entirely sujierseded by the improved, or English dogs. He was often what is vulgarly called double-nosed, having a deep fur- row between the nostrils ; and to this peculiarity, I have heard the excellence of their scenting powers attributed, of course ab- surdly. INIr. Youatt, on the contrary, I am surprised to see, at- tributes the deficiency of the same powers, in a certain French breed, having the like defonnity, to the same cause. I quite agree with Dr. Lewis, in regarding any such reason, whether for good or evil qualities, as wholly visionary. Ugliness, want of speed, and ill temper, are causes which have banished the Spanish Pointer from the kennel of the true sportsman. More of the blood is to be found in the Pointer commonly used in this country, than in the English breed, the points and characteristics of which are well laid down as follows, by Dr. Lewis. " The English Pointer will now claim more particularly our attention. It is quite useless to go into a general description of an animal of whom we have already said much, and with whom we arc all familiar ; but we will endeavor to mention the most striking points of the species, which marks can be referred to ai) guides in the purchase of a dog. UPLAND SHOOTING. 337 *' It is a difficult matter to put on paper, in a manner satisfac tory either to tlie reader or writer, the peculiarities of any ani- mal, whereby he may judged pure or mixed. However, there are, generally, some few points iu each species, that can be se- lected as proofs of their genuineness and ability to periorm cer- tain actions peculiar to the race. " But, after all, more reliance must be placed upon the good faith of the seller, or the previous knowledge of the strain from which tlie purchaser selects^ — and what is better than eitlier, from actual observation in the field; all of wliich precautions may, nevertheless, prove abortive, and our dog be worthless. " As regards the size of the English Pointer, we may say, that he averages in length about three feet, from the ti[i of tlie muzzle to the base of the tail, and from twenty-two to twenty- six inches high. His head not bulky, nor too narrow, the fron- tal sinuses largely developed. " The muzzle long, and rather tapering, the nostrils large and well open, the ear slightly erect, not over long, and the tip triangular; if too pendent, large and rounded at the tip, the it; is too much of the hound present. The eyes lively, but n(}t too prominent ; the neck rather long, and not over thick, the chest bi'oad, the limbs large and muscular; the paws strong, hard, and wide. The body and loins thin, rather than bulky, the hind quarters broad, and the limbs in the same proportion with the fore members ; the tail long and tapering." To this there is very little to be added, except that the hitrliei- the bi'eed, the shorter, the sleeker, and the more satiny tlicskin, and the thinner the ear. Any tendency to long hair about tlie Btern or legs, hints loudly at a Setter cross, which improvi's nei- her the temper nor the qualities of the dog. Like Setters, Pointers are of all colors, and I know not that any color has the preference ; but as in the Setter I should dis- trust Uoer color, which I regard as properly a Pointer color, so in the Pointer I look with suspicion on red or yellow, that being a Setter or Spaniel tint. There is a very pure and high strain of Pointers, principally white, with liver-colored ears and faces, -J I'! ' ( !| i ; ••( I 338 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. m having a light tan spot over each eye, and a tan shadowing round llie muzzle, and a few liver spots on the body. No tint is preferable to this. Black and tan is an undeniable, though uncommon color for the Pointer, coming probably fiom Fox- liound blood ; and pure black doqs arc froqueut and good. I dis- like a black and white spotted Pointer, it has a currish look, to say the least of it. The more highly bred any animal is, the better he will be, I believe, in all respects. The Pointer's skin becomes infi- nitely tenderer, and his whole frame more delicate and fine- drawn, by high breeding; but so much does he gain thereby, in pluck and courage, that I have seen pure-blooded dogs of tlus strain tearing their way through cat-briar brakes, literally bleed- ing at every pore, and whimpering with pain, while great, coarse-bred, hairy brutes, of six times their apparent power of frame, and capacities of endurance, slunk away like curs, as they were, unable to face the thorns. In every animal, from the man, in whom I believe it tells the most, down to the bullock and tlie Berkshire hog, I am an im- plicit believer in the efficacy of blood and breeding to develop all (qualities, especially coui'age to do, and courage to bear — as well as to produce the highest and most delicate neiTOUS organiza- tion ; and I would as willingly have a cur in my shooting ken- nel, as a mule in my racing stable, if I had one. I will now proceed to notice briefly, as becomes the scanti- ness of his use in this country, THE COCKING SPANIEL. This beautiful, intelligent, and useful dog, which, like the Pointer, is, as his name indicates, probably of Spanish origin, is very little known or used in this country, except as a pet and plaything for ladies ; and yet there is no country in the world for which, . from the great prevalence of woodland over open UPLAND SHOOTING. 339 shooting, the great thickness and severity of the covert, and the pecuhar species of game, it would be more ust-ful. There are many varieties of this beautiful, active, and industrious little dog, but the best and most adapted for this country is the large Cocking Spaniel, or Springc^r, which is found iu the greatest perfection in Sussex. This dog, which is probably the original stock of tlie Setter, cannot be better described than as resembling a Setter, in the same degree as a punchy, powerful, short-legged pony, resem- bles a well-bred horse. It is very strong and bony for its size, and has great industry, indefatigiible spirit, and indi)mitable cou- rage — nay ! its faults partake of these latter qualities, as it is wont to be rash, impetuous, and headstrong. One of tlie great- est drawbacks to its excellence in England, would not exist in this country ; I mean its pi'opensity to chase Hares, which abound in many preserves there to such a degree, that tliey are bouncing up at every step, and the Spaniels are yel[)iiig and yaffing after them all the time. Here the Hare is comparatively a rare animal, and in this respect the temptation of the Spaniel to wildness, would be very greatly diminished in the United States, or in Canada. The head of the Spaniel, and especially the nose, is propor- tionably much shorter than that of the Setter, the frontal sinuses more fully developed, the eye larger and more prominent, tlie ears much longer and more curly, some so long that they lite- rally seem as if they were intended " to sweep away the morn- ing dew. Their coats are altogether longer, and more curly, the tails not merely feathered, but bushy, and the legs thickly fringed, even to the toes. These dogs are of all colors, but I prefer the Blenheim color, rich orange and white, with a full moist eye, and coal-black nose and palate. They require great steadiness, and constant attention, both in the breaking, and the hunting when broken ; but firmness, cou- pled with general mildness, and constancy of temper, with occa- 340 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. sional severity, will easily prevail, and render them nearly per- fect. As tliey flush their game immediately, without standing or crouching, it is ahsulutely necessary that they should be under perfect cf)mmand ; they must never be above ten or fifteen paces distant from the gun, and tliey must be trained, until it has be come their second nature and instinct, to slacken their pace, in- stead of increasing it, when they strike the trail of gamt-, which the sportsman will learn by their yelp, or, if they be of the mute kind, by the redoubled feathering and flourishing of his bushy tail, and by an occasional low, impatient whimper. This, and to drop to shot, the instant the gun is discharged, is all they have necessarily to learn ; although it is a great addition to their worth, if they are broke to retrieve their game, when ordered to go on, after having dropped to " charge." This drf)pping to chai'ge, of infinite importance with all dogs, is even more im2)ortant with the Springer, or Cockixg Spaxiel, than witli the Pointer, or Setter; for, whereas the latter are taught both by their instinct and their breaking, to stand or set their game, there is some chance that, if they do break in after shot, they will still point anything on which they may chance to blun- der, while the Spaniel being broke to flush, if he stir at all, will indubitably run up everything that crosses his path. For summer or autumn Cock shooting, for Quail shooting in heavy covert, and for Ruffed Grouse shooting, I am satisfied that these little beauties would be invaluable in this country ; and that in many districts twice as many head of game might be killed over them, in the same space of time, as over any other kind of dog. I have often wondered at the neglect of this variety by sports- men of this country, never having met but three gentlemen, two in the States and one in Canada, who used them. I hope to succeed in importing a brace of higldy-bred, and well-broke Springers, of the large breed, this autumn, and to establish the breed. Should I be fortunate in my endeavors, it will be a source of much pleasure to me t^ accommodate sportsmen de- UPLAND SHOOTING. 341 sirous of trying the experiment with some of the progeny, and with my best advice and instructions as to their management and use. Having thus disposed of the three species of dog used in Up- land shooting, I shall proceed shortly to lay down a li;\v plain and general rules, for their treatment in tlie kennel and the field, their condition, breaking, and some uf their more ordinary and dangerous diseases, and then pass onward to fowl sJiooting on the shores of the Atlantic. Il KENNEL MANAGEMENT. The fii-st point in kennel management is the kennel itself, and, for a person keeping several dogs, the best and most suitable to this country is an enclosure of pickets, sufficiently high to ren- der it impossible for dogs even to attempt to leap over them, surrounding a space of ground the larger the better, as the dogs will then have room enough to run at speed, and to play toge- ther, which is undoubtedly conducive to health. This space should be gravelled, or strewed with fine sand, and if it could be so contrived as to have a channel of water running through it, that would be a great addition, both to the health and com- fort of the dogs. Along one side or end of this place should be a shed, closed at the back and ends, with a shingle roof, at least ten feet deep, so as to afford a complete shelter from snow, rain, and sun- shine. This shed, which sl>ould be open in front, must be floored with plank, with a moderate inclination, so as to allow any moisture to drain off readily. The opening should face the south. Along the back of this shed should be ranged a row of ordinary dog-houses of pine plank, one for each dog. Tliese should have no bottoms, that they may be removed, and the boards scoured beneath, from time to lime. They should not be less than three feet in length, by two in breadth, and two feet high at the eaves, by three at the ridge. The smaller the aper- I t •II 342 FRANK FORESTERS FIELD SPORTS. ture the belter, provided it is big enough to allow the ingress and egress of the dog. The inside should be whitewashed, and the very best bed that can be devised is fine pine shavings, as it is as soft and warm as any, and the turpentine which it con- tains is the surest of all antidotes against vermin. For persons living in towns, not having the command of space, or keeping but a single dog, the movable dog-house, such as I have described, placed on a plank platfoiTn, and having a post annexed, to which the dog may be chained, will answer the purpose, though if a dog is kept constantly chained up, he should have regular exercise. If such a kennel as I have men- tioned be used, each dog should at first be chained to a staple adjoining his own house, to which he will soon become so per- fectly accustomed, that he will never attempt to enter that of his neighbor ; and if they are watched at first, and punished if they quarrel, they will live harmoniously enough ; provided al- ways, that no bones or scraps of food be ever suffered to remain in the kennel to breed contention, and that none of the fair sex — to dogs, as to men, teterrima belli causa — be allowed to be at large among the males, in those seasons when they are most ob- noxious to addresses. Setters are much less quarrelsome than Pointers, but steadiness and firmness will keep peace even among the latter. It is unnecessary to say that the kennel, whether for one or many dogs, cannot be kept too scrupulously clean ; as the least col- lection of dii not only renders the animal uncomfortable to him- self, and offensive to others, but promotes humors, and is a mov- ing cause of some of the worst disorders. Where it is not found practicable to have a channel of run- ning water through the kennel, each dog should be provided at all times with his own large earthen pan of water, which should be kept continually fresh and renewed ; and in each pan there should be at all seasons a piece of bar brimstone, but especially in summer. This, acting as an alterative and gentle purgative will keep the bowels in good condition, cool the blood, and pre serve the softness of the coat. UPLAND SHOOTING. 343 It will be fouud an excellent plan to feed all the dogs, ii se- veral, at once, from one long common trough, into \\hich the food should be poured, in regular order, and the dogs then called out one by one, by name, from their houses, to which they should previously be compelled lo retire, and none sull'cred to approach until so sunmioned. The feeder shoud stand over hem, while feeding, with a switch, and^^e firs growl, or indi- ation of an attempt to (juarre , should be p^llished with a smart ut ; any voracity, in like manner, can be cliecked or mode- ated by a word ; and if ajiy dog ear so ravenously, as to gel more than his share, he must be quietly, but firmly, called off, and ordered to his own keimel. By this niijthod, order, regu- larity, and obedience, will be greatly increased in the kennel ; and, what is of more importance, the general good humor and good understanding of the dogs will be greatly promoted, so that if, as may often become necessary, as, for instance, in tra- velling on l)oai'd steamboats, or in other places where accom- modation is difficult and scanty, you should be compelled to feed your dogs out of one vessel, they will eat together cheerlully and agreeably, and lie down to get their rest as good friends, instead of fighting a pitched battle over the plate, and growling at one another all night long, instead of going peaceably to sleep. Attention to litt e mattei-s of this kind is of great real impor- tance. A fight between a brace of dogs, may deprive the owner of the services of one, or both, for half a dozen consecutive days ; and so destrf)y the sport of a week, on which he has counted, and for which he has, perhaps, incurred considerable trouble and expense. Even the loss of a night's rest will render dogs peevish, deprive them of their noses, and make them dull and listless during half a day. The subject of feeding is of great importance, and of it I shall treat somewhat at length, after ob- serving that frequent washing and bathing is of exceeding bene- fit to dogs in fine weather, when they have suitable conve- niences for drying themselves. After a swim, or a hard day's shooting in snow, or in marshes, a good whcaten straw bed is the I 1 ! i> 1 344 FRANK forester's FIELD SPORTS. : best restorative ; and that is the only time w lien I approve of straw for a bed, as it is heating, and has a strong tendency to harbor vermin. To curry a dog, or comb him with a horse's mane comb, and then brush him thoroughly, will be found to contribute to his cleanliness, comfort, and health, in a far higher degree, than the trouble of seeing it done will incommode the sportsman. A little method, and the regular observance of hours, will render all these things easy, and they will soon come to be regarded by the servant as matters of every day occur- rence, and as such to be done, and the trouble disregarded. With regard to feeding, a question on which very much of the condition, and not a little of the ollactory powers of the dog, Mr. Blaine in his great work on Canine Palhology, asks the fol- lowing question, and proceeds forthwith to answer it. " IV/iat is ike best food for dogs 1 An examination of this ani- mal must end in determining that he is neither wholly carnivo- rous, nor wholly herbivorous, but of a mixed kind ; intended to take in as well vegetable as animal matter, and formed to re- ceive nourishment from either. He is furnished \\ ilh sharp cut- ting teeth for tearinir flesh, and he has also tolerably broad sur- faces on other of his teeth, capable of grinding farinaceous sub- stances: his stomach and intestines likewise hold a middle place between those of the carnivorous and herbivorous tribes. At the same time, both his dental and his digestive organs appear rather more adapted to the mastication and assimilation of ani mal than vegetable matter; to which also his habits and partia- lities evidently tend. He is by nature predacious, and intended to live on other animals ; the stronger he hunts in troops, the weaker he con(juers singly. Yet still it is clear that his organs fit him, when necessary, for receiving nutriment from vegetable matter also, and we likewise see that he voluntarily seeks it, probably as a necessary mixture, to prevent that tendency to putridity, which too great a quantity of animal food begets. It is a received opinion among many sportsmen, that flesh-l'eeding injures the scent ; but it cannot do it naturally : for the fox, one of the caninae, which is kno\\7i to be by choice \\ holly caniivo- rPf/AND SHOOTING. 845 reus, principaily lives \>y the cxriuir-lte flcnsihility of liis olfac- tory ()ri,nin.s. IftI '^ fluting Ml'rt«'--»li really havo such an otli-ct on 8p(>rtliiund the