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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s d des taux de reduction diff6rents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul cliche, il est fiimd A partir de I'angle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m^thode. rrata ;o pelure, 3 32X I f ■; 3 1 2 3 4 8 FIELD SPORTS m THE UNITED STATES, ANB THE BRITISH PROVINCES OF AMERICA BY FRANK FORESTER. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. 1* ">V LONDON: RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. ^ubXiifiev in ©rWnarjj to ^tt ^ajerftij. 184a I ' '•1 lONDON : Printed by Schulze aad Co., 13, Poland -street. I * f'^ ADVERTISEMENT. I HAVE little to say in the Preface to the following Work on " Field Sports." My reasons for producing it, at this moment, will be found in the body of the book itself; but, once for all, it appeared to me that such a Work was needed at this juncture, and that its publica- tion might possibly tend, in some small degree, to avert the impending doom, which seems to have gone forth from the democracy of the land, against game of all sorts. No one abler, or elder, seemed willing to stand forth; so, " with all my imperfections on my head," I have ventured myself as the champion of American Sport and Sportsmanship; and — "what is writ is writ, would it were worthier!" I have here, especially, to express my obligations to those distinguished ornithologists and good sports- men, Mr. Audubon and Mr. Giraud, to whose " Birds of America," and " Birds of Long Island," I am greatly indebted. I have availed myself also Ti ADVERTISEMENT. r ' of Wilson's "American Ornithology," De Kay's " Natural History of New York," and Godman's " American Natural History." To all these gentlemen I beg to express the high sense I feel of the aid I have derived from their excellent works. To my friend, William T. Porter, I am indebted for a few re- marks, which I have derived from his admirable edition of " Hawker on Shooting." I trust that my labours may not be wholly vain, and that my doctrines may meet the favourable atten- tion of those, for whose use they are intended — the Sportsmen of America. n HENRY WILLIAM HERBERT. THE CEDARS, AUGUST, 1848. CONTENTS n OF THE FIRST VOLUME. Introductory Observations The Game of North America Upland Shooting The Pinnated Grouse The Ruffed Grouse The Canada Grouse American Quail The Woodcock Common Snipe Bartram's Tatler , The American Hare The Northern Hare The Mallard The Dusky Duck The Blue-winged Teal The Green-winged Teal The Summer Duck The Pintail Duck Spring Sntpe Shooting Summer Woodcock Shooting Upland Plover Shooting Autumn Cock Shooting Quail Shooting Page. 1 21 37 41 57 65 74 81 86 90 96 99 .. 102 .. 107 .. Ill .. 115 .. 119 .. 126 .. 135 .. 169 .. 203 .. 212 .. 223 < \ Viii CONTENTS. RcFFED Grouse Shootino 1, ... 245 Grouse Shooting 254 t. Autumn Shooting ... 26.3 Rail; And Rail Shooting ... 274 Duck Shooting, on Inland Waters ... 300 Sporting Dogs ... 320 The Setter ... 321 The Pointer •••• ... 337 • The Cocking Spaniel .. 341 J i J f ■1 • ■ *: ' * 1 " t FIELD SPORTS r i r I OF THE UNITED STATES AND THE BEITISH PROVINCESv On the occasion of commencing, it is now several years ago, a series of papers in a leading monthly maga- zine, *'On the Game of North America, its nomencla- ture, habits, haunts, and seasons; with hints on the science of woodcraft" — I introduced the subject, by the following general remarks, and it appears to me that; inasmuch as they are not only still applicable, but have in effect become more and mote evidently true, owing to the lapse of time since their publication, during which the evils complained of have increased tenfold, I cannot do better than repeat them, as entirely german 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 cata- logue of the choicest game, whether of fur, fin, or feather, as the United States of North America; there is none, probably, which counts more numerous, or more ardent, devotees ; there is none, certainly, in which the wide- spread passion for the chase can be indulged, under so few restrictions, and at an expense so trifling. **Yet, all this notwithstanding, it is to be regretted VOL. I. B ill 3 FIELD SPORTS. greatly that there is no country in which the nomencla- ture of these favis naluns, these roving denizens of wood, wold and water, is so confused and unscientific; none, in which their habits are so little known, and their seasons so little regarded ; none, in which the geqtle craft of Venerie is 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 and forests, in all the lakes, rivers, bays, and creeks of its vast territory, are in such peril of becoming speedily extinct, "That in a nation, every male inhabitant of which is, with but rare exceptions, a hunter, and ready with the gun almost beyond example, this should be the case, can be explained only by the fact that, as I have said before, little is known generally of the habits of game ; and that the rarest and choicest species are slaughtered inconsiderately, not perhaps wantonly, at such times and in such manners, as are rapidly causing them to disappear 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, Tetrad CupiDO, on Long Island, 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 pines 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 rarte aves; and, after a few more returns of the rapidly suc- ceeding seasons, they will be entirely unknown in their old-accustomed places." The same thing is the case, in a yet greater degree, with regard to the Wild Turkey. It is not yet half a century since these birds, the noblest wild game of the Gallinaceous order, abounded on the slopes of the War- wick and Musconetcong Mountains; in the Shawan- gunks; and, in a word, throughout the whole length INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. of the great chain, which connects the White Mountains of the north, with the AUegimnie;. proper. I have myself conversed with sportsmen, in the river counties of New York, who, in their boyhood, thought less of killing their half-dozen Wild Turkeys in the morning, than we should now-a-days of bagging as many Ruffed Grouse. At present, with the exception of a few stragglers which, I believe, still exist on the Connecticut, about the rocky steeps of Mount Tom and Mount Holyoake, and a single drove, which are reported to be seen occa- sionally 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 not, 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 pursuers. 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 LongIsland,theDeer,CERvusViRGiNiAN us, has ceased to exist. And it requires no prophetic eye to see the day when this pride of the North American forest shall have ceased to have its habitation anywhere eastward of Pennsylvania ; unless it be in the remote northern forests of Maine, in the mountains of New Hampshire and Vermont, 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 probably contain the Deer, the Moose, the Cariboo, the Panther, and even the Beaver, after they shall have become extinct, even in the far West. ^ . B 2 \ ;-1 FIELD SPORTS. It has been alleged^ and by mai^y 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 disap- pearance of all the various kinds of game, the extinction of which the sportsman and the 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 gamC; 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 con- gener, 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 cultivated regions on account of the plenty and choicer quality of the food; and are found nowhere in such abundance as in those localities which afford the combi- nation of rough wild lying-ground, with highly-culti- vated land, on which to feed at morn 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 wood- lands, 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 its native fastnesses. ' :' 5 In like manner, in the West, it is on the prairie, but in the vicinity of the boundless tracts of maize and wheal, ivhich the industry of the white man has spread INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. )eUeved i spread ods and mselves I disap- tinction deplore, o waste ;ing the if gamC; , though Lcamentj ie of the its con- irer bird Spruce inknown ^omes in ly. But [cinity of choicer in such \i combi- ly-culti- eve. rsuit of |to flush swamp, ^ine and lown to wood- lain yet it fields, ig bird [rie, but lize and spread out over the hunting-grounds of the Indian, that 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, '.t 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 propaga- tion, or in anywise tends to decrease their numbers. For centuries yet to come, let American industry deve- lope and extend American agriculture as rapidly as it may, there will be woodlands and wilds in abundance to furnish shelter for any quantity of game ; and there wil) always be fastnesses innumerable, which never will, because they never can, be cleared, owing to the rough- ness of their surface, and the sterility of their soil, whether from elevation 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 abhorring the vicinity of civilized man, are literally not to be found except where the works of the ox and the man are conspicuous, 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 continent, 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 qud non, for their habitation. Moreover, in places where they are entirely unknown to the first settlers, where they do not in fact exist at all, they speedily become abundant, as 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 tl6 FIBLD SPORTS. *i. ; f. > I )y iiii no proof thereof is necessary. I may, however, mention two or three very distinct and remarkable instances of this fact, which have come under my own observation ; one with regard to the increase and spread of Quail, the others of Woodcock, into localities where they Were previously unknown. 'j ■ j. Some seventeen years ago, I visited Niagara Falls for the first time, and travelled westward so far as the upper waters of the Thames and the Chenail Ecarte, in Canada West, shooting a little when occasion offered, and making many inquiries concerning the varieties of game, and the habits of those to be found in the pro- vince. 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 every fallow field and maize stubble — it was in the spring, imme- diately 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 Wood- cock; 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 exceed- ingly 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 Penobscot River, although abundant INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. t , in the v ' ;ity of Portland and Casco Bay, and in the older settlements on the Kennebec. What renders it more evident, in the latter case, that it is the absence of civilization, and not the severity of the climate, which has so long deterred this bird of passage from visiting the eastern parts of Maine, is the fact that, in ihe British provinces of New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, much farther to the northward 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 agriculture and civilization, in themselves, has no injurious operation, but rather the reverse, on any kind of winged game ; and that, in some instances, the pro- gress of one is simultaneous with the increased numbers of the other. Even with game of the largest kind, as Deer, Bear, Hares, and the like, it is not the circumscription of their limits by ploughed fields, but the ruthless persecution to which they are subjected, which is gradually extin- guishing 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 inac- cessible, and in every way more suited to harbour 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 abundance 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 II hm I 8 FIELD SPORTS. -I United States of America. Nor is it to be attributed to any other cause than the reckless and ignorant^ if not wanton, destruction of these ani.-nals by the rural population. ^ The destriction of the Pinnated Grouse, which is total on Long Island, and all but total in New Jersey and the Pennsylvania oak-barrens, is ascribable to the brutal and wholly wanton havoc committed among them by the charcoal-burners, who frequent those wooded districts; and who, not content with destroying the parent birds, at all seasons, even while hatching and hovering their broods, shooting the half-fledged cheepers in whole hatchings at a shot, and trapping them in deep snows — with a degree of wantonness equally bar- barous and unmeaning, steal or break all the eggs which they can find. To this ^dd the spring burnings of the forest land, and you have cause enough to account for the exter- mination of the Pinnated Grouse, or Heath-Hen ; who is not now to be shot in such numbers 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 correctness of my assertion, that, on the little island of Martha's Vineyard, off the coast of Massachusetts, where the Heath-Cock, once abundant, had nearly be- come extinct, the species was preserved from annihila- tion by the very praiseworthy means, equally deter- mined 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 likely to remain so, as the people take an honourable pride in preserving it, and neither kill it themselves, nor allow visitors to do so, except in the proper seasons, and under restric- tions 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. INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. The period, it' I am not i:7.istaken, for which the Grouse barrens were closed has expired, and, under some limitations, of the nature of which I am not exactly aware, they may be visited by sportsmen hence- forth. The destruction of the smaller and more abundant species is to be attributed to different reasons ; but the operation of these is more rapid and more fatal than those which have led to the extinction of the races we have mentioned. The first of these causes is the very singular, if not incomprehensible, characteristic of the people of the United States, to disregard and violate all laws^ even laws of their own making ; the second, the apathy of the rural population with respect to game, and the error into which they have fallen of regarding all game laws as passed to their detriment, and for the pleasure of the dwellers in cities ; the third is, the dis- honest gluttony of all classes in the cities, with the exception of a few sportsmen; and the last, horresco referens, the selfishness and want of union among them- selves of genuine sportsmen. With regard to the first of the reasons laid down here, it may be taken as a matter of fact that no man^ boy, or fool, in the country , 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 being wow-litigious, that one of the principal pleasures of his life is the sueing his neighbours for the smallest possi- ble sums. The exceeding 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 connexion with feudal rights, individual privileges, and nominal distinctions, which are certainly everywhere more or less vexatious, and in B 3 do FIELD SPORTS. *i some places really injurious to classes — although far less so than Americans are led to believe by the dema- gogue orators and editors from whom they obtain their information on this topic, as on most others of the internal economy 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 protect the animals in question, during the periods of nidification, incubation, and pro- viding for the youthful broods. Remarkably enough, it has so happened in this coun- try, owing to the non-residence of wealthy and otiose men in the rural districts of the Northern States, that until recently all application for, and amendments of game laws have emanated from the dwellers in cities ; and, for this obvious reason, that the country farmers, as a body,* have neither the time, the inclination, nor the opportunities of making themselves acquainted with the names, habits, or manners of game animals ; and consequently could not, if they would, have framed adequate laws for their protection. I believe that if they could now be brought as a body to Cinderstand that the provisions of these laws are not arbitrary, and intended to suit the wishes of classes, they might be induced to lend their hand to the good work of game preservation. ^■ A very few years since, the sportsman proper — those I mean who shot for exercise, pleasure, and healthful excitement — and the poachers who shot for the mar- kets, both coming from the cities, were the only enemies of the Quail and Woodcock. They were at that time entirely disregarded by the farmers, who 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 mar- kets to supply with what they considered useless birds. So great was the extent of this disregard, that I 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 INTRO^ TCTORY 03SBRVAT10NS. 411 some twenty or thirty Woodcock, have heen 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 unknown to them. At this period, which was the golden age fcr the sportsman, travelling was, comparatively speaking, ex- pensive ; 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 consequence was that the city poacher was in a great measure precluded from fol- lowing his barbarous and dishonest trade. Add to this, that the country people were averse to the market- shooter, when they discovered his object, and cast obstacles in his way. All this is now changed — the railroads by which the country is everywhere intersected, enable the city pot- Imnter to move about with his dogs, and to transmit the subject of his butchery to the market easily, cheaply, speedily. Nor 'is this all — the country now bids fair to monopolize the trade of pot-hunting. The young men and boys, now-a-days, all shoot on the wing ; many of them shoot extremely well ; and knowing the country, and being at it all the time, the devastation they make is enormous. Their game is easily disposed of by the aid of the conductors, or other employes on the railroads, who share the spoils with the killers; and fathers, finding that the idle lad, who formerly did an hour or two of work, and bird-nested or played truant quite unprofit- ably all the rest of the day, now readily earns his three or four shillings a day by loafing about the M'oods with a gun in his hand and a cur at his heels, encourages him in this thoughtless course, and looks upon him as a source both of honour and profit to the family. In the meantime, knowing nothing, and caring less than nothing, about the habits or seasons of the birds in question, he jud^s naturally enough that, whenever there is a demand for the birds or beasts in the New York markets, it is all right to kill and sell them. .^ 19 FIELD SPORTS. M m And thanks tu the selfish gormandizing of the wealthier classes of that city, there is a demand always; and the unhappy birds are hunted and destroyed, year in and year out, by the very persons whose interest it is to protect them, if it be only for the selfish object of making the most money of their killing. Even now, while I write these lines — February, 1848 — K)wing to the mildness of the winter, which has allured them earlier than usual from their hyhemacula 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 — during 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 th5n and worthless — yet the ostentation, rather than the epicureanism of the rich New Yorker demands Woodcock; therefore, despite law, common sense, and common humanity, the bird is butchered at all times — even now. Within ten years to come, if some means widely diiFerent from any now adopted be not taken to save this bird, it will be extinct everywhere within a hundred miles of the Atlantic sea- board — and inland, everywhere within a hundred miles of any city large enough to afford 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 Ruffed Grouse the longest of all — ^but the beginning of the twentieth century will see the wide woodlands, the dense swamps, and the mountain 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 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 13 ! 3re IS no public the present work, on "the Field Sports of the United States, and the British Provinces of North America" — a work, the intention and character of which, I shall take this opportunity of stating, are entirely different from those of any book heretofore published in this country. "In all European countries," I remarked, in con- nexion with the observations quoted above, "writers on all branches of sporting 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 pisca- tory experiences in 'Salmonia,' a work second only in freshness and attraction to its prototype, by old Isaak Walton. "That fair and gentle dame, Juliana Bemers, deemed it not an unfeminine task to indite what, to the present day, is the text-book of falconry; and the hapless beautiful Jane Grey thought she had given the extremest 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 their experience, or to plead the cause of her persecuted and almost exterminated game. " Within the last few years, indeed, much has been done. A whole host of sporting writers "^liave sprung up in all quarters of the land, having their rendezvous and rallying point in the columrs of the New York Spirit of the Times. " Still, most of these writers have aspired rather to entertain 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 Shooting," — prepared for the Ame- rican reader by my excellent friend, William T. Porter, 14 FIELD SPORTS. If I ¥: known tliroughout the length and breadth of the con- tinent as a thorough and accomplished sportsman — does not descend to those minute details of the zoological distinctions, nomenclature, and habits of our various species of game, which I propose to give to my readers; nor — though abounding with graphic accounts and highly coloured anecdotes relating to every species of shooting or hunting, does it present any views or sug- gest 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 receiving 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 arrived, when a work of this character is called for by the country in f^eneral, and is likely to be as well received as the deticiencies of its author will permit, . i - And now, after these brief introductory observations, I shall state what is my plan for the arrangement of this work, and therefore 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 which is, by the way, of no small consequence; as it is not by any means generally under- stood, 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 divisions, of Upland 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 INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 15 ornithology, of the genera, the colours, habits, breeding seasons, and haunts of every species of game — there- after, I sluiU treat of the proper scientific modes of killing and preserving them; and, last not least, I shall insist on the proper nomenclature, urging its adoption with all my poor powers, and endeavour 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 otiier kindred topics, so much has been stated at length by Hawker, Youatt, Blaine, and other great English authorities, that it is not necessary that I should be very diffuse in my observations. As, however, no work on field sports can be perfect, or approach to per- fection, unless it include these vital subjects, I shall of course not j)ass them over in silence, though I shall dilate only on such parts of them as appear to be most desirable, either for want of sufficient 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; as well as the kindred s)ibjects of the management of greyhounds, kennel - treatment and hunting of hounds, and lastly, all con- nected with the noble science of falconry, once termed ^' the Mystery of Rivers." I have, indeed, often wondered that both falconry and coursing have not been introduced on the boundless prairies of the West, which, for the perfection of the first-named sport, are the grounds par excellence of the whole world — the decline of falconry on the continent of Europe, and in England, being caused by the multi- plicity of enclosures, which renders it impossible to pursue a chase, blindfold as it were, the eyes being fixed constantly on the manceuvres of the hawk to Id FIELD SPORTS. pounce, and of the quarry to evade his stoop, in the mid-air. Again, Deer-coursing might be practised TV'ith un- doubted success on the prairies; the besi; proot of which is in the fact, that it has been tried by one gen- tleman at least, who has imported the rough Scottish deer greyhound for the purpose, in the extreme West ; and has been found by him to surpass all his expecta- tions, both for the excitement of the chase, 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 unerrir:gly by these staunch, fleet, 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, perhf.r),,, scarcely r\ field sport; it is never- theless so decidodly a branch of sportsmanship — of course I mean fly-fishing, or trolling with the live or dead minnow ; any other mode I can regard only as I would knocking a hare on the head in her form, or shooting a bevy of Quail 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 honour due to the gentle science. I know not whether, before entcwiig cu my subject, I owe any apology to my readers fo that I, uot nallve or to the manor born, should aspiic lo treat of a sub- ject so purely indigenous as the field sports of America. Should it be deemed presumptuous in me to attempt it, I must only point, as my excuse, to seventeen years of ;i(,prer'ticesh\p honestly devoted to acquiring the little I do know of American field sports ; and so infinitesi- mr.J is that little, that I am almost compelled to own, with the sage of old, " all that I know is, that I know INTUODirTORY OHSEHVATIONS, 17 nothing" — and to a constant and long-maintained habit of intercourse and fau ''iar coric.>ijondence with better, though not more thorougl />'^g» sportsmen than mysf^P, in every part of tiic l iiited States, and of the Provinces. Upon any general defence of field sp'>r'si 1 do not liere think it worth the while to enter. Ali men v hose opinions are worth one moment of . tontioii have long ago decided that tliey are the best, )ie mardiest, and die most desirable, in every respect, of national amuse- . lents, tending to prevent the demoralization of luxury, and over-civilization, the growth of effeiiinacy and sloth, and to the maintenance of a little ma. .hood in an age, the leading characteristics of which are fanaticism, cant, and hypocrisy, added to a total and gencr al 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 )west bow; and to entreat that they will give me an I my book, as I shall assuredly give them and their opiii ons, 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 ta 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-baiting, dog-fighting, cock-fitihting, and other similar pursuits, which are for the m«w*t part followed only by tl)e vicious and worth- less population of large cities — have been approved of and encouraged by the wisest men, by statesmen, and philosophers, and philanthropists, not merely as legiti- mate pursuits whereon to expend and exercise the buoyant animal spirits, and ardent animal propensities of youth — which must have an outlet one way or ano- ther — but as tW best mode of preserving the combined advantages of tltt^ nwns sana in corpore sano — of keeping up manhood, and of maintaining the physical energies ill '"m 18 FIELD SPORTS. and capacities of the human race at their highi st standard. It is an authentic and undeniable fact that the aristocracy and gentry of the British Islands are supe- rior, in physical beauty and power, in robustness, agility, and the capacity of enduring fatigue, to any other class of nobility in the world. They are, in fact, the only nobility in existence, which have been enabled to resist the deteriorating influences of wealth, luxury, and breeding-in-and-in, which have corrupted and effeminated the nobility of all other lands ; they are the only nobility in existence which not only equals, 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 field sports. To the like cause may be, in its degree, attributed the superioritj'^, in vigour and robustness, 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 statesman and the philanthropist, why the en- couragement 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 estates, or acquiring rural tastes and habits, are mfinitely more liable to become effemi- nated and effete than the gentry, not of Britain only, but of France and Germany. And, in fact, the soi- disant 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, standin:^ armies INTRODUCTORY OBSERVATIONS. 19 being out of the question in this republic, the defence of the land and its institutions must ever be intrusted to the people at large; and the adaptibility of the people to that defence will ever depend on their aptitude to become soldiers at a short notice, and especifllyon their readiness with the yun. 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 proba- bility of those results continuing the same for a large term of years, as far as regards the use of the gun, is small indeed, and hourly decreasing. During the war of the Revolution, every countryman was a rifleman. Bargoyne 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 midland states could produce their 'hundreds and thousands of rifle 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 Mississipjii, if not extinct. The Deer are, in the same ratio, declining, and the Turkey. These gone, the utility and honour of the rifle are extinct also. So long as smaller game exist, the gun-shot will still continue, replacing the rifle as it has done to the east- ward, to be in use ; and the practice of fire-arms will 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 \ 20 FIELD SPORTS. 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. This certainly is a point worthy of consideration, even by those who think themselves far too great and philan- thropical to trouble themselves about such trifles as the increase or decrease of little birds, and the field sports of little men. It is, however, sound philosophy which teaches us that "great ends come from small begin- nings.^' ■.„. {'- ,T /»:j-i-iif horses, shot-gun. s of still roper; as ng killed )t on the urse, not irn game of killing that used does not, notion. I Eastern in truth, e, novv-a- ly worthy I Cariboo, sry noble w, speed, iment, as )f sports- • Upland which I fowling- breeding, ler points ect; and part of al hobby work of I I UPLAND SHOOTING OF THE NORTHERN STATES AND THE BRITISH PROVINCES. Upland shooting, as it is understood by American sportsmen, is the distinctive term, not, as would appear at first sight, dividing the sport of the hill from that of the plain countrj'^, but that of the inland from that of the coast. It includes, therefore, not only all game of the order, Rasores, the home of which is in thickets, mountain-sides, stubbles, or maize-fields, but such also of the Grallatores, or waders, as dwell either in inland swampy woods, fresh rivers, or river-side morasses; and, farther yet, such of the Naiatores, swimmers, as are found exclusively or principally on brooks, rivers, above tide water, and spring marshes. By upland shooting, in a word, we understand all that is pursued with the aid of pointers, setters, or spaniels, and the ordinary light fowling-piece; as opposed to that which is folio »'ed in boats with heavy ducking guns, and by the aid of decoys, or, as they are here termed, stools Of all sports of this country, therefore, upland shoot- ing is that which requires in the sportsman the greatest combination of qualities, the greatest skill with the gun, the greatest knowledge of the habits and haunts of his game, the greatest science in the management of his dogs, and the greatest bodily vigour and endurance. The upland shooter of America does not, cannot^ 38 FIELD SrORTS. select his stands, or easy walking ground, for getting shots and killing game, leaving it to his gamekeeper or beaters to hunt his dogs, and flush his birds in the thicket, so that they sha^' fly out before his face ; still less does he, like the deer shooter, remain listless and silent at his stand, until his guide, a practical woodman, shall find the quarry and hunt it toward him, so that, perchance, without walking fifty yards, or making the slightest exertion, he get his point-blank shot, and thinks it a great matter to have killed a big helpless animal, as big as a jackass, a^'d as timid as a calf, literally in the intervals between eating bread and cheese and drinking brown stout, as he sits on a moss- covered log to leeward of the runaway. No ; through the thickest alder swamp, the deepest and most boggy marsh, among tussocks knee-high, and fallen trees, and interlacing vines and cat-briars — along the sharp limestone ledges, and through the almost impervious growth of the rhododendron overoLmopied by juniper and hemlock — over mile after mile of broad, bare hill-side stubbles — through black morasses, inter- sected by broad drains — trusting to his own sure foot and even stride, he must toil on after his game, the wildest, fleetest, wariest, and sharpest-flying of all the fowls of the air, depending on his own knowledge of their seasons and their habits to launch his trusty dogs into their proper haunts, at their proper hours ; on his management of those dogs to flush them fairly within shot, and on his own eye and hand of instinct to give a good account of them, when flushed within distance. The perfection to which some men have carried this art is almost incredible — the certainty with which they will find game on the same tract of land, with another party who shall find none— the unerring instinct with which they will read the slightest signs of the weather, and comprehend the smallest indications of the where- abouts of their game — the readiness with which they will draw conclusions and positive deductions from signs which to others seem light as air — the facility UPLAND SHOOTING. 39 a moss- with which they understand their dogs, and their dogs them — and lastly, their wonderful accuracy, rapidity, and deliberate promptitudo of aim and execution, backed as these are by the great improvements in the art of gunnery, and by the vast superiority of the per- cussion to the flint lock, are such as would make our ancestors, of a century since, despair amid their admi- ration — such as constiiute the first-rate game shot on the wing, decidedly the greatest marksman and artist with the gun, be the other what he may. For, without disparaging the beautiful practice of the rifle or pistol, it may be affirmec safely that it is merely mechanical, and attainable by every one pos- sessed of a steady hand and a true eye ; while I know not what of calculation, of intuition, almost of inspira- tion, is p' 'u needed to constitute a crack shot. As my poor friend. Cypress, Jun., said, in one of his inimit- ably witty false quotations, purporting to be from Pliny's chapter on Black Ducks, " Legere quidem et scrihere est pcedagogi, sed optim^ collineare est Dei" which he rendered somewhat thus, " A creditable scholar can be made by the schoolmaster, but a crack shot is the work oi God," the Latinity being equal to the truth of the apophthegm. a Nov/, without pretending that I can give every per- son a receipt whereby he can become a " crack shot," which no one, 1 believe, can be, unless he is born to that good eminence, or even presuming that I can make him a good sportsman, I shall proceed to set down such facts with regard to the habits and haunts, the seasons and the instincts of game, as I can derive from the best sources, with such directions for the pursuit and killing of the. i as many years' experience has led me to consider the most likely to attain success. And first of all, we will consider what animals come under the head of upland game, and thence proceed to their generic distinctions and habits, as recorded by our greatest naturalists ; after which we shall be led in due season to my own personal experiences and observations. \ 4a FIELU SPORTS. Our upland game consists, then, as we find it here in the northern and north-eastern parts of North America, of three species of grouse proper — one of them very rare and very rarely killed over dogs ; one species of quail, three varieties of waders, several species of duck, and two of hares. The grouse are The Pinnated Grouse, Tetrao CupidOf commonly known as the Prairie-Hen, or Heath- Hen. , The Ruffed Grouse, Tetrao Umbellus, vulgarly called the Partridge in New England and New York, and as vulgarly the Pheasant in New Jersey and Southward. The Canada Grouse, Tetrao Canadensis, com- monly known as the Spruce Partridge. I trust that the remarks I have already made, and the clearly distinctive proofs which I shall hereafter adduce from the best ornithologists, will lead sportsmen to act in earnest about reforming the sporting vocabu- lary, and eschewing the snobbish and ignorant provin- cialism, or cockneyism — for such it indeed is, of calling Grouse, " Pheasant and Partridge," and thereby destroy- ing all consistency in the dialect, and all community in the feelings of the sporting world. The Quail is. The American Quail, Oiiyx Virgi- niana, properly known in New Jersey and eastward as Quail; wrongly to the southward as Partridge. The Waders are. The American Woodcock, Scolopax Minor, sive Microptera Americana — the latter, I conceive, a causeless distinction and subdivision — commonly called in the country. Mud Snipe, Blind Snipe, and Big-headed Snipe ; while its correct name. Woodcock, is often given to the larger red-polled Woodpecker. The American Snipe, Gallinago Wilsonii, com- monly known as English Snipe. The Upland Sandpiper, Bartram^s Taller, Tringa Bartramia, sive Totanus Bartramius, commonly known as the Upland Grass Plover, or Frost Bird, 'is UPLAND SHOOTING. 41 The Ducks, which may be classed as Upland game, are The Dus :cy Ducv, Anas Obscura, commonly known as the Black Dulk, f \ The Mallard, Anas Boschas, vulg. Green Head. The Green -winged Teal, Anas Carolinensis. The Blue-v'inged 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 both salt and fresh waters, or of so rare occur- rence as to require no notice; of the former I will merely name The Shoveller, Anas Clypeata, and The Golden Eye, Anas Clangula: of the latter, The Gad WALL, Anas Strepera. The Hares are, The Common American Hare, Lepiis AmericanuSi commonly and improperly. Rabbit, The Northern Hare, Lepiis Virginianus, vulgarly and improperly. White Rabbit. The Common Sora Rail, Rallus Carolinus, must be classed under a sporting head, peculiar to itself — as it is shot from boats, apart from any other species of game, and in different localities, though in the same manner, with some exceptions, as wild fowl on the coast. With the exception of the Wild Turkey, which is unquestionably the noblest bird of the order Rasores, 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 honour, I assign the palm to THE PINNATED GROUSE. La Gelinotte Prairie-Hen, Tetrao Cupido — Linn., Wilson, Audubon. Huppee d'Amerique — Brissot. The Grouse, or Heath-Hen. "Male, 18.27i '^ Abundant from Texas, throughout all the Western prairies, to very high up the Missouri, Kentucky, Illi- 42 FIELD SPORTS. rik nois and Ohio; almost extirpated in the Middle and Eastern Districts. Resident. "Adult male. " Bill short, robust ; upper mandible with the dorsal outline curved, the edges overlapping, the tip declinate* and rounded. Nostrils basal, roundish, concealed by the feathers. Head small, neck rather long, body bulky. Feet of ordinary length, tarsus short-feathered, toes covered above with numerous short scutellaf, mar- ginatej, and pectinate§, hind toe extremely short, two lateral equal, middle toe much longer; claws of ordinary length, strong, arched, rather obtuse, concave beneath. "Plumage compact, the feathers generally broad and rounded, those of the head and neck narrow, and pro- portionally shorter, excepting of the crown, which are elongated. Two tufts of lanceolate elongated feathers on the side of the neck, under which is an oblong bare space on either side capable of being inflated. Lower tibial II and tarsal^ feathers short, soft and blended. Wings short and curved, the primaries strong and nar- row ; fourth longest, third and fifth nearly equal, second longer than sixth, first much shorter. Tail very short, much rounded, sloping on both sides, of eighteen broad, rounded feathers. "Bill dusky, paler beneath; iris brown, toes dull yellow, claws grayish brown; the general colour of the upper parts is blackish brown, transversely marked with broad, undulating bands of light yellowish red ; the wing coverts and secondaries of a lighter brown, tinged with gray, and barred with paler red, the latter only on the outer webs; primary quills grayish brown, with black shafts, and spots of pale reddish on the outer webs excepting toward the end. Tail dark grayiih brov/n, narrowly tipped with dull white, the two middle * Declinate — Bent downward. f Scutella — Scales overlapping, like tiles or shingles. X iVfary/na/e— Having margins or borders. § Pectinate — Toothed, like a comb. II Tibial — Belonging to the tibia, or thigh. •ji Tartfa/— Belonging to the tarsus, or shank. UPLAND SHOOTfNO. 43 iddle and ;he dorsal declinate* cealed by )dy bulky. ;red, toes at, mar- ihort, two P ordinary beneath, broad and and pro- which are d feathers long bare I. Lower blended. and nar- al, second ery short, en broad, toes dull )ur of the marked red; the n, tinged r only on vn, with ;he outer grayiih ^o middle feathers mottled with brownish red. Space from the bill to the eye, a band from the lower mandil)le over the cheek and throat, pale yellowish red or cream colour; a band of blackish brown under the eye, includ- ing the ear coverts, and another about an inch and a half long on the side of the throat. Membrane above the eye scarlet. Bare skin of the sounding bladder orange. "The longest feathers of the neck tufts are dark brown on the outer webs, pale yellowish red and mar- gined with dusky on the inner, excepting the lowest, which are all brownish black. The lower parts are marked with large transverse curved bands of grayish brown and pale yellowish gray, the tints deeper on the anterior parts and under the wings. Under tail coverts arranged in three sets, the middle feathers convex, involute, white, with two concealed brown spots ; the latera; larger, of the same form, abrupt, variegated with dusky red and white, the extremity of the latter colour, but with a very narrow terminal margin of black. The tibial and tarsal feathers are gray, obscurely and minutely banded with yellowish brown. "Length 18 inches; extent of wings 27?; bill along the back, ^Vj along the edge, y^-; tarsus, 1^; weight, lib. 13oz. " Adult female. " The female is considerably smaller than the male, and wants the crest, neck-tafts and air-bags, but in other respects resembles him." — Audubon's Birds of America. Attagen Americana, Brisson, 1, p. 59 — Pinnated Heath- Cock, Bonnasa Cupido, Steph. Sh. cont. 11, p. 299 — Tetrao Cupido, Bonap, Si/nop.^ p. 126. " Before I enter on a detail of the observations which I have myself personally made on this singular species, I shall lay before the reader a comprehensive and very circumstantial memoir on the subject, communicated to me by the writer, Dr. Samuel L. Mitchill, of New m B ill i-:.:., iim H 41 IlIiMJ sroivT.s. York, whose exertions both in his public and private capacity, in behalf of science, and in elucidating the natural history of his country, are well known and highly honourable to his distinguished situation and abilities. That peculiar tract, generally known by the name of the Brushy Plains of Long Island, having been from time immemorial the resort of the bird now before us, some account of this particular range of country seemed necessarily connected with the subject, and has accordingly been obligingly attended to by the learned Professor : " 'New York, Sept. 19, 1810. "'Dear Sir, — It gives me much pleasure to reply to your letter of the 1 2th inst., asking of me informa- tion concerning the Grouse of Long Island. " * The birds, which are known there emphatically by the name of Grouse, inhabit chiefly the forest range. This district of the island may be estimated as being between forty and lifty miles in length, extending from Bethphage, in Queen's County, to the neighbourhood of the Court-house, in Suffolk. 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 aud the Atlantic Ocean on the south, there is a margin of several miles on each side in the actual pos- session of human beings. " ' The regions in which these birds reside lie mostly within the towns of Oysterbay, Huntington, Islip, Smithstown and Brooklyn ; though it would be incor- rect to say that ti ey were not to be met with sometimes in River Head -tiid Southampton. This territory has been defined by some sportsmen as situated between Hempstead Plaim. oi the west and Shinnecock Plain on the east. " 'The more ^ opular name for them is Heath-Hens. By thi^ they are designated in the act of our LegislatiMEe for the T})''eservation of then and of other game. I wdl rem^.m j«r the pas»8ing of thi^ law. The bill was intro- UPLAND SHOOTING. 45 d private ating the own and ition and n by tlie ^ing been )\v before country and has e learned e mostly 1, Islip, )e incor- metimes :ory has between ^lain on i-Hens. islature I well s intro- duced 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 October, 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 person who shall prosecute for the same before any Justice of the Peace in either of said counties, the one-half to be paid to plaintiff and the other half to the overseers of the poor; and if any Ileath-IIen so killed shall be found in pos- session of any person, he shall be deemed guilty of the offence and suffer the penalty. But it is provided that no defendant shall be convicted unless the action shall be brought within three months after the violation of the law." "'The country selected by these exquisite birds requires a more p5\rtirular description. You already understand it to Ue the midland and interior district of the island, 'he soil of this island is, generally speak- ing, a sancv or gravelly loam. In the parts less adapted to tillage, it is more of an unmixed sand. This is so muc^A the case, that the shore of the beaches beaten by the ocean affords a material from which glass has been prepared. Silicious grains and particles predo- minate in the region chosen by the Heath-Hens or Grouse ; and here there are no rocks, and very few stones of any kind. This sandy tract appears to be a dereliction of the ocean, but is nevertheless not doomed to total sterility. Many thousand acres have been reclaimed from the wild state and rendered very pro- ductive 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. 46 FIELD SPORTS. !'•' •%- where men have no settlements, and others where the population is spare and scanty. These are, however, by no means naked deserts j 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 exported 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 pro- bably for ages derive fuel from these grounds. The land, after being well cleared, yields to the cultivator poor crops. Unless, therefore, he can help it by nature, 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 be perceived that the reproduction of trees, and the protection they afford to Heath-Hens, would be perpetual, or in other words, not circum- scribed by any calculable time, provided the persecu- tors 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 latter are from about two to ten feet in height. When they are the principal product, they are called, in common conversation, brushy as the flats on which they grow are termed brushy plains. Among this hardy shrubbery may frequently be seen the creep- ing vegetable, named partridge-berry, covering the sand with its lasting verdure. "^In many spots the plant which produces hurtle- berries sprouts up among the other natives of the soil. These are the more important ; though I ought to inform you, that the hills reaching from east to west and forming the spine of the island, support 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 water, cranberries, alders. UPLAND SHOOTING. 47 where the , however, i contrary, ints. The and white ity very fit rts of fire- jns. Vast ires which, ' and wide I will pro- nds. The cultivator ; by nature, "est again, of forty or fit for the production 2ath-Hens, ot circum- e persecu- tbese trees surface, sometimes to ten feet duct, they « the flats Among the creep- ering the es hurtle- the soil. ought to it to west t kalmias, lave seen le wilder- [s, 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 much travelled by waggons, and intersected accordingly by a great number of paths. "As to the birds themselves, the information I possess scarcely amounts to an entire history. You who know the difficulty of collecting facts, 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 for gentlemen who go there for sport. " ' Bulk. — x\n adult Grouse, when fat, weighs as much as a barn-door fowl of moderate size, or about three pounds avoirdupoise. But the eagerness of the sportsman is so great, that a large proportion of those they kill are but a few months old, and have not attained their complete growth. Notwithstanding the protection of the law, it is very common to disregard it. The retired nature of the situation favours this. It is well understood that an arrangement can be made which will blind and silence informers, and the gun is fired with impunity for weeks before the time prescriijed in the act. To prevent this unfair and unlawful practice, an association was formed a few years ago, under the title of the 'Brush Club,' with the express and avowed intention of enforcing the game law. Little benefit, however, has resulted from its laudable exertions; and, under a conviction that it was impossible to keep poachers away, the society declined. " ' At present the statute may be considered as opera- ting very litttle towards their preservation. Grouse, especially full-grown ones, are becoming less frequent. ;■> ^ 48 FIELD SPORTS. Their numbers are gradually diminishing; and, assailed as they are on all sides, almost without cessation, their scarcity may be viewed as foreboding their eventful 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 shillings— 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 ^hem, whether for pleasure or profit. " ' Amours. — The season for pairing is in March, and the breeding time is continued through April and May. Then the male Grouse distinguishes himself by a pecu- liar sound. When he utters it, the parts about the throat are sensibly inflated 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 «ar 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 the ground, in recesses very rarely discovered by man. She usually lays from ten to twelve eggs. Their colour 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 resembles 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. m id, assailed ition, their ir eventful of Grouse now from om sells in han thirty ts —nor for reciation of ove at the id this fact vhether for ^arch, and 1 and May. by a pecu- about the It may be »iles ; some six. This strike the impresses a few rods his note is lar. it IS flowing of ground, in le usually ir is of a IGuinea- !d by her )ther-bird (Ns. She )ssing the Ltained in In that '1 f employment 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 inabiUty to walk or fly. " ' Food. — A favourite article of their diet is the Heath-Hen plum, or partridge-berry, before mentioned ; they are fond of hurtleberries or cranberries. Worms and insects of several kinds are occasionally found in their crops. But in the winter they subsist chiefly on acorns and the buds of trees which have shed their leaves. In their stomachs have been sometimes ob- served the leaves of a plant supposed to be a winter- grec! "id it is said when they are much pinched, they bet? A ^' emselves to the buds of the pine. In conve- nient places they have been known to enter cleared fields and regale themselves on the leaves of clover, and old gunners have reported that they have been known to trespass upon patches of buckwheat and peck up :the grains. "' Migration. — They are stationary, and are never known to quit their abode. There are no facts showing in them any disposition to migration. On frosty morn- ings, and during snow, they perch on the upper branches of pine trees. They avoid wet and swampy places, and are remarkably attached to dry ground. The low and open brush is preferred to high and shrubby thickets. Into these latter places they fly for refuge, when closely pressed by the hunters; and here, under a stifi^ and ; impenetrable cover, they escape the pursuit of dogs and men. Water is so seldom met with on the true Grousk ground, that it is necessary to carry it along for the pointers to drink. The flights of Grouse are short, but sudden, rapid, and whirring. I have not heard of any success in taming them. They seem to resist all attempts at domestication. In this, as well as VOL. I, D i: ll 60 FIELD SPORTS. y the dis- )sited by a After the e places of e hunters, OUSE. s lurking- holes made of pine branches, called hough-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. Waiting 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 extent, that the Grouse, after having been repeatedly disturbed, are afraid to assemble. On ap- proaching the spot to which their instinct prompts them, they perch on the neighbouring trees, instead of alighting at the scracching-place ; and it remains to be observed how far the restless and tormenting spirit of the marksman may alter the nature and habits of the Grouse, and oblige thetn to new ways of life. *' ' They connnonly keep 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 whose 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 I them take wing. In like manner, the men lying in con- cealment near the scratching-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 ilight. It has been farther re- marked that when a company of sportsmen have sur- rounded a pack of Grouse, the birds seldom or never rise upon their pinions while they are encircled; but each runs along until it passes the person that is nearest, I and then flutters off with the utmost expedition. " * As you have made no inquiry of me concerning the ornithological character of these birds, I have not men- tioned it, premising that you are already perfectly ac- quainted with their classification and description. In a short memoir, written in 1803, and printed in the eighth volume of the Medical Repository, I ventured an D 2 liUI ;ii • 53 FIELD SrORTS. opinion as to the genus and species. Whether I was correct is a technical matter, which I leave you to adjust. I am well aware that European accounts of our productions are often erroneous, and require revi- sion and amendment. This you must perform. For me it remains to repeat my joy at the opportunity your m ' ion has afforded me to contribute somewhat to 3^0: r^'egant work, and at the same time to assure you of my earnest hope that you may be favoured with ample means to complete it. "* Samuel L. Mitghill.* " « Duly sensible of the honour of the foregoing com- munication, 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 belong- ing to my owp department. " It is somewhat extraordinary that the European naturalists in their various accounts of our different species of Grouse, should have said little or nothing of the one now before us, which in its voice, manners, and peculiarity of plumage, is the most singular, 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 escaped 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., 1743, that he first saw some of these birds, as he in- forms us, at Cheswick, the seat of the Earl of Wil- mington. His Lordship said they came from America; but from what particular part could not tell. Buffon has confounded it with the Ruffed Grouse, the Common Partridge of New England, or Pheasant of Pennsylvania {Tetruo Umbellus). Edwards and Pennant have, however, discovered that it is a different species, but have said little of its note, of its flesh or peculiarities; for alas, there was neither voice or action, nor delicacy of flavour in the shrunk and decayed skin from which the former took his figure and the latter UPLAND SHOOTING. 53 his description; and to this circumstance must be at- tributed the barrenness and defects of both. " This rare b'rd, though an inhabitant of different and very distant districts of Nortli 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 immense intermediate regions that he never visits. Open, dry places, thinly interspersed with trees, or partially over- grown with shrub-oak, are his favourite haunts. Ac- cordingly, we find these birds on the GnousE-plains of New 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 according to the information of the late Governor LcAvis, on the vast remote plains of the Columbia River, in all these places preserving the same singular habits, " Their predilection for such situations will be best accounted for by considering the following facts and circumstances: — First, their mode of flight is generally direct and laborious — 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 bv no means accustomed. I have alwavs observed them to avoid the hightimbered 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-G ROUSE struck the stone chimney 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. • 54 FIELD SPORTS. III! Ill ;r I ''While I was in the State of Tennessee, a person, living within a few miles of Nashville, had caught 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 poultry ; he remarked that she never drank, and that she ever avoided that quarter of the cage where the cup containing the water was placed. Hap- pening one day to let some water fall on the cage, it trickled down in drops along the bars, which the bird no sooner o1)served than she eagerly picked them orF, drop by drop, with a dexterity that showed she had been habituated to this node of quenching her 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 refusied to drink; but, though she was con- stantly fed on Indian corn, 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 off, as before. *' The last, and probably the strongest inducement to their preferring these places, is the small acorn of the shrub-oak, the strawberries, huckleberries and part- ridge-berries, with which they abound, and which con- stitute the principal part of the food of these birds. These bushy thickets also afford them excellent shelter, being almost 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 account — to which they are strongly attached. Yet they have been known to abandon an entire tract of such country, M'hen, from whatever cause it might proceed, it became again covered with forest. " A few miles south of the town of York, in Pennsyl- vania, commences an extent of country fairly of the character described, now chiefly covered with wood, buf; still retaining the name of BarreisTs. In the recoUec- UPLAND SHOOTING. 55 a person, ad caught obliged to ibused the !ver drank, : the cage led. Rap- he cage, it :;h the bird 1 them utf, id she had her thirst, and barren d drops of r the space er whether ; was con- water still sooner did cage, than efore. ucement to orn of the and part- ivhich con- lese birds. nt shelter, prey. In le strictest particular jed in the y attached, ntire tract e it might 1 Pennsyl- rly of the wood, buu le recollec- tion 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 time he had seen none of them, until, migrating with his family to Kentucky, on entering the Barrens, he one morning recognized the well-known music of his old acquaintances, the Grouse, which, he assures me, are the very same with those he had known in Pennsylvania, "But, what appeared to me the most remarkable cir- cumstance relative to this bird, is, that none of all those writers who have attempted its history, have taken the least notice of those two extraordinary bags of yellow skin, which mark the neck of the male, and whic con- stitute so striking a peculiarity. These appear to be formed by an expansion of the gullet, as well as of the exterior skin of the neck, which, when the bird is at rest, hangs in loose, pendulous M'rinkled folds along the side of the neck, the supplemental wings, at the same time, as well as when the bird is flying, 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 colour a middle-sized, fully-ripe orange. " By means of this curious apparatus, which is very observable several hundred yards ofi\, he is enabled to produce the extraordinary sound mentioned above, which though it may easily be imitated, it is yet difficult to describe by words. It consists of three notes of the same tone, resembling those produced by the Night- hawks, in their rapid descent, each strongly accented, the latter being twice as long as the others. When several are thus engaged, 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 osten- tatious gesticulations of a Turkey-cock, erecting and fluttering his neck-wings, wheeRng and passing before Hi' I ill 56 FIELD SPORTS. 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 j and, in short, one can scarcely Jistcii to them without feeling disposed to laugh from sympathy. These are uttered by the mules, while engaged in fight, on which occasion they leap up against eacli other, exactly in the manner of Turkies, seemingly with more malice than effect. This humming continues from a little before day-break to eight or nine o'clock in the morning, when the parties separate to seek for food. " Fresh-ploughed fields in the vicinity of their resorts are sure to bi visited by these birds every morning, and frequently also in the evening. On one of these I counted, at one time, seventeen males, most of whom were in the attitude represented, making such a con- tinued sound as, I am persuaded, might have been heard more than a mile eft. The people of the Bar- BENS informed me that when the weather becomes severe, with snow, they approach the barn and farm- house, and are sometimes seen sitting on the fields in the Indian corn, seeming almost domesticated. At such times great numbers are taken in traps. No pains, however, on regular plans, have ever been persisted in, as far as I was informed, to domesticate these delicious birds. "A Mr. Reid, who hves between the Pilot-Knobs and Bairdstown, told me that, a few years ago, one of his sons found a GROUsE^s nest, with fifteen eggs, which he brought home and immediately placed be- neath a hen then sitting, taking away her own. The nest of the Grouse was on the ground, under a tus- sock 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 and diversity of their wanderings; and it was a day or two before they seemed to understand her UPLAND SHOOTING. 57 morning, ►f these I of whom h a con- ave been the Bar- be conies nd farm- fields in ed. At o pains, listed in, delicious -Knobs one of en eggs, iced be- n. The a tus- and few about e whole N, they ler with and it and her language, or consent to be guided by her. Tliey were let out to the fields, where they paid little regard to their nurse, and, in a few days, only tliree of them remained. These became exceedingly tame and fami- liar, 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 rernarkal}ly large ; the crop was filled with briar-knots, containing the larvee of some insect, quantities of a species of green lichen, small, hard seeds, and some grains of Indian corn." — Wilson^s Am. Ornitli. Next to this fine bird, both in his game qualities and the excellence of his flesh, I note, unhesitatingly, THE RUFFED GROUSE. Tdrao Umbellus. Linn, : Wilson : Audubon. La Geli- notte Huppee dc Pennsylvanie, Brissot. — The Phea- sant, or Partridge. "Male, 18.24. " Common from Maryland to Labrador, and, in the interior, from the mountainous districts to Canadf and the Jashatchewan, Columbian River. Resident. "Adult Male. " Bill short, robust, slightly arched, rather obtuse ; the base covered by feathers ; upper mandible, with the dorsal outline, straight in the feathered part, convex toward the end, the edges overlapping, the tip declinate; under mandible somewhat bulging toward the tip ; the sides convex. Nostrils concealed among the feathers. Head and neck small. Body bulky. Feet of ordinary length. Shank feathered, excepting at the lower part in front, where \* ^s scutellate, spurless ; toes scutellate above, pectinate on the sides ; claws arched, depressed, obtuse. " Plumage compact, glossy. Feather of head narrow, and elongated into a curved tuft. A large space on the D 3 SI FIELD SPORTS. Ill •I I |: »'%. *"■ «£: neck destitute of featliers, ])»it covered ))y an erectile ruff of elongated feathers, 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 colour, 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 colour, between two narrow hands of bluish- white, of which the one is terminal. A yellowish band from the upper mandible to the eye, beyond whicli it is prolonged. Throat and lower part of the neck light brownish-yellow. Lower ruff feathers of the same colour, barred with reddish-brown ; the upper black, with blue reflections. A tuft of light chesnut feathers under the wings. The rest of the under parts yellowish- white, with broad, transvese 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, f ; along the gap, IjV; shank, l^V; middle toe, If. " Adult female. " The plumage of the female is less developed, and inferior in beauty. The feathers of the head and ruff 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." — Audubon's Birds of America. " This is the Partridge of the Eastern States, and the Pheasant of Pennsylvania and the Southern Dis- iM UPLAND SHOOTING. 59 an erectile cr are silky, liich is very mrved, and of eighteen ird the tip. part of the llowish-red. rhite spots, ely mottled and of the of bluish- ovvish band nd which it I neck light the same pper black, ^ut feathers i yellowish- sh-red; the ail coverts feet; bill, lank, 1-J^j tricts. 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 MoosK FoiiT, on Hudson's Bay, in lat. 51°; is fre- quent in the upper parts of Georgia, very abundant in Kentucky, and the Indian Territory, and was found by Oapts. Lewis and ('lark in crossing the great range of mountains that divide the waters of the Columbia and Missouri more than three thousand miles, by the mea- surement, from the mouth of the latter. Its favourite places of resort are high mountains, cove cd 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 :he pine-sheltered declivities of mountains near streams of water. "This great difference of disposition in two S'; -^' •* es whose food seems to be nearly the same, is very xtiu- ordinary. 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 country is *nter- spersed, the latter, or Pheasant, w*as 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 th «pa shores, and the low, flat, and warm climate of the b -uthern States, these birds should become more rare, and such is indeed the case. In the low parts of Carolina, and Georgia, and f lorida, they are very seldom observed, but as we advance inland to the mountains, they again make their appearance. In the low parts of New Jersey we indeed occasionally meet with them, but this is owing to the more northerly situation 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, 60 FIELD SPORTS. 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 scsldom found in coveys of more than foul' or five together, and more usually in pairs, or singly. " They leave their sequestered 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 Phea- sant, is another singularity of this species. This is performed by the 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 m' / be heard nearly a mile ofil This drumming is mc t common in spring, and is the call of the cock to a fav ourite female. It i" produced in the following manner: " The bird, standing on an old prostrate log, generally in a retired and sheltered situation, lowers his wings, erects his expanded tail, contracts his throat, elevates the two tufts of feathers on the neck, and inflates his • This is, of course, an error of Wilson's. UPLAND SHOOTING. 61 the Phea- This is |uented by y hearing oduced by but much tinct, but into each ry distant fter a few n a calm rumming the cock following generally lis wings, elevates ilates his whole body something in the manner of a Turkey-cock, strutting o'ld wheeling about in great stateliness. After a few mancEuvres 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 described. This is most common in the morning and the evening, though I have heard them drumming at all hours of the day. By means of this, tlie gunner is led to his retreat, though to those unacquainted 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 surrounded 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- white, 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 a common Hen. On being surprised, she exhibits all the distress and affectionate manoeuvres of the Quail, and most other birds, to lead you away from the spot. I once started a Hen Phea- sant with a single young one, seemingly only a few days old ; there might have been more, but I observed only this one. The mother fluttered before me for a mo- ment, but suddenly darted towards the young one, seized it in her bill, and flew off along the surface through the woods with great steadiness and rapidity, till she was beyond my sight, leaving me in great sur- prise at the incident. J made a very close and active search around the spot for the rest, but without success. "Here was a striking instance of something more * An error ! The Ruffed Grouse is polygamous, and does not pair at all. \ FIELD SPORTS. -than what is termed blind instinct, in this remarkable deviation from her usual manoeuvres when she has a numerous brood. It would have l)een impossible for ine to have injured the aifectionate mother who had exhibited such an example of presence of mind, reason, and sound judgment as must have convinced the most bigoted advocate of mere instinct. To carry off a whole brood in this manner at once would have been impos- sible, and to attempt to save one at the expense of the rest, would be unnatural. She, therefore, usually takes the only possible mode of saving them in that case, by decoying the person in pursuit of herself, by such a natural imitation of lameness as to impose on most people. But here, in the case of a single solitary young one, she instantly altered her plan, and adopted the most simple and effectual means for its preservation. " The Pheasant usually springs within a few yards, with a loud wnirring noise, and flies with great vigour through the woods, beyond reach of view, before it alights. With a good dog, however, they are easily found, and at some times exhibit a singular degree of infatuation, by looking down from the branches where they sit, on the dog below, who, the more noise he keeps up, seems the more to confuse and stupify them, so that they may be shot down one by one till the whole are killed, without attempting to fly off. In such cases those on the lower branches must be taken first ; for, should the upper be first killed, in their fall they alarm those below, who immediately fly off. *' In deep snows they are usually taken in traps, com- monly dead traps, supported by a figure 4 trigger. At .this season, when suddenly alarmed, they frequently dive into the snow, particularly when it has newly fallen, and coming out at a considerable distance, again take wing. " They are pretty hard to kill, and will often carry off a large load to the distance of two hundred yards, and drop down dead. Sometimes in the depth of winter they approach the farm-house, and lurk near the UPLAND SHOOTING. 63 barn or about the garden. They have, also, been often taken young, and tamed, so as to associate with the fowls; and their eggs have frequently been hatched under the common Hen, but these rarely survive until full grown. They are exceedingly fond of the seeds of grapes, occasionally eat ants, chesnuts, blackberries, and various vegetables. " Formerly they were numerous in the immediate vicinity of Philadelphia, but as the woods were cleared, and population increased, they retreated to the interior. At present there are very few to be found within several miles of the city, and those only singly in the most solitary and retired woody recesses. " The Pheasant is in best order for the table in Sep- tember and October. At this season they feed chiefly on wortleberries, and the little aromatic partridge- berries, thelaso of which give the flesh a peculiar deli- cate flavour. With the former our mountains are literally covered from August to November, and these constitute at that season, the greater part of their food. During the deep snows of winter they have recourse to the buds of alder, and the tender buds of laurel. I have frequently found their crops distended with a large handful of these latter alone; and it has been confi- dently asserted that after being fed for some time on the laurel buds, the flesh becomes highly dangerous to eat of, partaking of the poisonous qualities of the plant. The same has been asserted of the flesh of the deer, when, in severe weather and deep snows they subsist on the leaves and bark of the laurel. " Though I have myself ate freely of the flesh of the Pheasant, after emptying it of large quantities of laurel buds, without experiencing any bad consequences ; yet from the respectability of those, some of them eminent physicians, who have particularized cases in which it has proved deleterious and even fatal, I am inclined to believe in certain cases, where this kind of food has been long continued, and the birds allowed to remain undrawn for several days, until the contents of the crop \ I: ill , MS- 1 64 FIELD SPORTS. and stomach have had time to diffuse themselves through the flesh, as is too often the case, it may be unwholesome, and even dangerous. Great numbers of these birds are brought to our markets at all times during fall and winter, some of which are brought from a distance of more than a hundred miles, and have been probably dead a week or or two, unpicked and undrawn, before they are pvrchased for the table. " Regulations prohibiting them from hdmg brought to market, unless picked and drawn, would very pro- bably be a sufficient security against all danger. At these inclement seasons, however, they are lean and dry ; and, indeed, at all times, their flesh is far inferior to that of the Pinnated Grouse. They are usually sold in Philadelphia market at from three-quarters of a dollar to a dollar and a quarter a pair — sometimes higher.'^ — Wilson's Am. Ornith, The last of this species which it is worth our while to notice as a sporting bird, is the Canada Grouse, and even it, although Mr. Audubon speaks of it as abundant in parts of Maine, and although it unquestionably exists in the north-eastern angle of New York, is so rarely met, and so shy, as to be known to very few of our sportsmen. The Willow Grouse, or Willow Ptarmigan, perhaps the most beautiful of all the American species, and perhaps to be met with in the extreme north of Maine, is too uncommon to be classed as game. I fear, indeed, that few of my readers will ever have the good fortune to kill the beautiful little Grouse of which we are now speaking. I doubt whether it would ever lie to dogs. It is a solitary forest bird. UPLAND SHOOTING. 65 ng brought i very pro- anger. At 3 lean and far inferior sually sold i of a dollar higher." — our while rouse, and abundant ably exists so rarely 3\v of our \RMIGAN, n species, north oiE" - I fear, ! the good which we d ever lie M THE CANADA GROUSE. TeiraoCanadenJs. Linn.: Bonaparte: Audubon. Spotted Grouse; hrurMin's Grouse; Spruce Partridge. "Male, 15f.21f. Female, 151.21. " Plentiful from the northern parts of New York to Labrador, as well as from Canada to the Arctic Sea^ Columbia River. Partially migratory in winter. "Adult Male. " Bill short, robust, slightly arched, rather obtuse ; the base covered by feathers; upper manible with the dorsal outline convex toward the end—the edges sharp and overhanging — the tip dcclinate; lov/er mandible slightly convex in its dorsal outline; the back broad and rounded; the sides sloping outward; the tip rather rounded. Nostrils lasal, lateral, concealed by the short feathers. Head small; neck of ordinary length; body full. Feet short, rather small; tarsus short, roundish, feathered. Toes scutellate above, broadly margined and pectinate; the anterior ones connected by a web at the base, the hind toe very small, the two lateral about equal, the middle one much longer; claws short, arched, compressed, rather obtuse. " Plumage compact, slightly glossed. Feathers of the head very short. Wings i?iort, broad, much rounded and curved, the third quill longest, the fourth next, the second and fifth nearly equal, the first very sliort. Tail ample, of ordinary length, rounded, of sixteen broad rotundate truncate* feathers, having a minute mucio. " Bill and claws brownish ]>lack. Irisf hazel. Fringed membrane over the eyes, vermillion. Toes purphsh- gray. Upper plumage and flanks brownish-black, tranversely barred with brownish-gray; the tip of each feather with two bars of the latter colour; on the hind parts the bars are larger, and the pale ones more tinged * Truncate— Q,\xi off short and abruptly. t Iris — The circle about the pupil of the eye. nn-m^ i |i Mil' '111 \ FIELD SPORTS. with brown. Quills and larger coverts, blackish-brown, th«.' outer edges of the primaries pale brownish-gray, and those of the secondaries minutely mottled with the same. Tail coverts, brownish-black, minutely mottiod and tipped with grayish-white; t lil feaiiiers darker, and ti|>ped will dull browni h-rtu. liOwer parts black, the feathers on the throa; h.iviiv^ a ' hite spot near the end; those of the iower and lateral parts of the neck unspotted; of the brea^u, with a broad, sub- terminal spot, and the unrK .: tail coverts largely tipped with white. Inner wing coverts above brova^ tlie. proximal and axillaries tippeci with wliite, "Length i5f inches; extent of wings, 21 f; bi. , xlong the back, j^„ ; along^the edge, 1^^: tarsus, ] } j weight, I'/u/. *^ Adult female. "T'k 'e male is not much smaller. The superciliary membrane is much less, but of the s;une colour. The \ipper parts are nearly of the same tints, but more broadly barred ; the head, sides of the neck, fore neck, and anterior parts of the breast, yellowish-gray, barred with brownish-black; the lower parts, grayish-black, barred with reddish-white. The tail is minutely tipped and mottled with brownish-red. The younger females have more of the yellowish -red tints than the old ones. In other respects, the colouring is nearly similar. "Length, 15| inches; extent of wings, 21 5 weight, 15oz.'' — Audubon. !:.;,; ,wi«'i Inasmuch as this rare and beautiful little species of Grouse is almost entirely unknown to our sportsmen, as I have never found any who have killed it, and very few who are aware of its existence; and as, with a single exception, I have never but once shot it, though I have on several occasions tried for it in the State of Maine, on the waters of the Penobscot, I cannot speak as to its habits or haunts with any certainty, from my own jjersonal experience, or from the report of sports- men, I am inclined to believe, however, that it is not UPLAND SHOOTING. 67 a bird which will l)e found to yield much sport, as I doubt its lying to setters or pointers, or being met with in sufficient numbers to render the pursuit of it plea- tiurable or exciting. The single specimen which I killed, rose suddenly from the ground, which was covered with snow to the depth of a foot or more, in a little dell or basin, full of tall larch and spruce-firs, just as 1 came over the brow of the hill; and I was fortunate enough to kill it at long range, by a snap shot. It was a fine cock bird, agreeing in all respects accurately with the above description, from the pages of the greatest living naturalist. Feeling that something more than this bare notice is due to this beautiful bird, and with some faint hope that, ])y calling the attention of sportsmen to the un- doubted fact of its existence within our sporting limits, I may add one to our list of game, I shall proceed to quote from the author already noticed, whose orni- thological distinctions and descriptions I shall adopt throughout this work, the following graphic account of his experience, as relates to this Grouse. I say, that I entertain but a faint hope, because among many intelligent and observing friends, keen sportsmen and good shots, both in Lower Canada and New Brunswick, I have never heard this Grouse named as a bird of game. In fact, I believe that no bird which haunts the depths of the North American wilder- ness can, under any circumstances, afford much sport to the legitimate pursuer, though they may be treed with cur-dogs, and shot sitting, in sufficient numbers to supply markets, and to satisfy the sporting aspirations of the prowling, backwoods' gunner. '• No sooner had I entered the State of Maine, than I considered the Canada Grouse as one of the principal objects of my enquiry. Every person to whom I spoke about it, assured me that it was rather abundant during the whole year, and consequently that it bred in the country. All this I fortunately proved to be quite true; but no one told me of the difficulties I should have to \ eS' FIELD Sl'OllTS. II encounter in watching its habits; and although I ulti- mately succeeded in this, the task was perhaps as severe as any which I ever undertook. "In August, 1832, I reached the delightful little village of Dennisville, about eighteen miles distant from Eastport. There I had the good fortune to become an inmate of the kind and most hospitable family of Judge Lincoln, who has resided there for nearly half a century, and who is blessed with a family of sons equal to any with whom I am acquainted, for talents, perseverance, and industry. Each of these had his own peculiar avocation, and I naturally attached myself more particu- larly to one who, ever since his childhood, manifested a decided preference for ornithological pursuits. This young gentleman, Thomas Lincoln, offered to lead me to those retired woods, where the Spruce Partridges were to be found. We accordingly set out on the 27th of August, my two sons accompanying us. Thomas, being a perfect woodsman, advanced at our head, and I can assure you, reader, that to follow him through the dense and tangled woods of his native country, or over the deep mosses of Labrador, where he accompanied me afterward, would be an undertaking not easily accom- plished. We, however, managed to follow our guide the whole day, over fallen trees, among tangled brush- wood, and through miry ponds; yet not a si'^gle Grouse did we find, even in the places where he had before seen them; and great was my mortification when, on our return, toward sunset, as we were crossing a meadow belonging to his father, not more than a quarter of a mile from the village, the people employed in making hay informed us that about haL an hour after our departure, they had seen a fine covey. We were too much fatigued to go in search of them, and therefore made for home. " Ever ardent, if not impatient, I immediately made arrangements for procuring some of these birds, offer- ing a good price for a few pairs of old and young, and in a few days renewed my search, in company with a » 3 UPLAND SHOOTING. 69 ;htful little iistant from become an iy of Judge F a century, ual to any rseverance, n peculiar )re particu- lanifested a nits. This to lead me Partridges n the 27th Thomas, ead, and I irough the or over panied me ily accoro- our guide led brush- ,le Grouse iad before when, on a meadow irter of a n making after our were too therefore ely made Is, ofFer- ung, and with a man, who had assured me he could guide me to their breeding-grounds, which he actually did, to my great pleasure. These breeding-grounds I cannot better de- scribe, than by telling you that the larch forests, which are here called * Hackmetack Woods,' are as difficult to traverse as the most tangled swamps of Labrador. The whole ground is covered by the most beautiful carpeting of verdant moss, over which the light-footed Grouse walk with ease, hv {. among which we sunk at every step or two up to the waist, our legs stuck in the mire, and our bodies squeezed beneath the dead trunks and branches of the trees, the minute leaves of which insinu- ated themselves between my clothes, and nearly blinded me. We saved our guns from injury, however, and seeing some of the Spruce Partridges before they per- ceived us, we procured several specimens. They were in beautiful plumage, l)ut all male birds. It is in such places that these birds usually reside, and it is very seldom that they are seen in the open grounds, beyond the borders of their most impenetrable retreats. On returning to my family, I found that another hunter had brought two fine females, but had foolishly neglected to bring the young ones, which he had caught and given to his children, who, to my great mortification, had already cooked them when my messenger arrived at his house. "The Spruce Partridge, or Canada Grouse, breeds in the States of Maine and Massachusetts, about the middle of May, nearly a month earlier than at Labra- dor. The males pay their addresses to the females, by strutting before them on the ground or moss in the manner of the Turkey-cock, frequently rising several yards in the air, in a spiral manner, when they beat their wings violently against their body, thereby producing a dru.iiming noise, clearer than that of the Ruffed Grouse, and which can be heard at a considerable distance. The female places her nest beneath the low horizontal branches of fir-trees, taking care to conceal it well. It consists of a bed of twigs, dried leaves, and mosses, on ilu *f '"' 70 FIFLO SPORTS. which she deposits from eight to fourteen egp;s, of a deep fawn colour, irregularly splashed with different tints of brown. They raise only one brood in the season, and the young follow the mother as soon as they are hatched. The males leave the females when- ever incui)ation has commenced, and do not joiu them again until late in autumn; indeed, they remove to different woods, when they are more shy and wary than during the love season or the winter. " This species walks much in the manner of our Partridge. I never saw one jerk its tail, as the Ruffed Grouse does ; nor do they burrow in the snow, like that bird, but usually resort to trees, to save themselves from their pursuers. They seldom move from tlience at the barking of a dog; and, when roused, fly only a short distance, uttering a few clucks, which tliey repeat on alighting. In general, when a flock is discovered, each individual forming it may be easily caught ; for, so seldom do they see men in the secluded places they inhabit, that they do not seem to be aware of the hostile propensities of the race. "Along the shores of the Bay of Fundy, the Spruce Partridge is much more coumion than the Ruffed Grouse ; which, indeed, gradually becomes scarcer the farher north we proceed, and is unknown in Labrador, where it is replaced by the Willow Grouse, and two other species. The females of the Canada Grouse difter materially in their colouring, in different latitudes. In Maine, for instance, they are more richly coloured than in Labrador, where I observed that all the indi- viduals procured by me were of a much grayer hue than those shot near Dennisville. The like difference is, perhaps, still more remarkable in the Ruffed Grouse, which are so very gray and uniformly coloured in the Northern and Eastern States, as to induce almost every person to consider them as of a species distinct from those found in Kentucky, or any of the southern moun- tainous districts of the Union. I have in ray posses- sion skins of both species, procured a thousand miles ■'M UPLAND SHOOTING, 11 apart, that present these rinuirkable differences in tlie general hue of their plumage. " All the species of this genus indicate the approach of rainy weather or a snow storm with far more pre- cision than the best barometer ; for, on the afternoon, previous to the occurrence of such wather, they all resort to their roosting- places earlier, by several hours, tlian they do during a continuance of fine weather. I ha\ c seen groups of Grouse flying up to their roosts at mid-day, or as soon as tlie weather felt heavy, and have observed that it generally rained in the course of that afternoon. When, on the contrary, the same flock would remain busily engaged in search of food, until sunset, I found the following morning fresh and clear. Indeed, I believe that this kind of foresight exists in the whole tribe of gallinaceous birds. " One day, while on the coast of Labrador, I acci- dentally almost walked upon a female Canada Grouse, surrounded by her young brood. It was on the 18th of July. The atiViglued motlier, on seeing us, ruffled up all her feathers, like a common hen, and advanced close to us, aN if determined to defend her offspring. Her distressed condition claimed our forbearance, and we allowed her to remain in safety. The moment we retired, she smoothed down her plumage, and uttered a tender maternal cluck, when the little ones took to their wings, although they were, I can venture to assert, not more than one week old, with so much ease and delight, that I felt highly pleased at having allowed them to escape. " Two days afterward, my youthful and industrious party returned to the Ripley with a pair of these Grouse in moult. This species undergoes that severe trial at a much earlier season than the Willow Ptarmigan. My son reported that some young ones which he saw w'ith their mother were able to fly fully a hundred yards, and alighted on the low trees, among which he caught several of them, which, however, died before he reached the vessel. ■I'll *# I 72 FIELD Sl'OHTS. " Tins species is found not only in the St; X". of I'Jranc, l)ut also in the mountainous districts of Incvv Hamp- shire, and the northern parts of New York, as well as around our Northern Great Lakes and the head-waters of the Missouri. It is abundant in the British Pro- vinces of N6w Brunswick, Nova Scotia, Newfoundland, and Labrador. "Among the great number, procured at all seasons of the year, which I have examined, I never found one without the rufous band at the extremity of the tail j nor did I see any having the triennial white spot on the upper tail-coverts, exhibited in figures of this species. "Their food consists of berries of different sorts, and the young twigs and blossoms of several species of plants. In the summer and autumn, I have often found them gorged with berries of the plant which is com- monly called * Solomon's seal.' In the winter I have seen the crop filled with the short leaves of the larch or hackmetack. "I have frequently heard it said that these birds could be knocked down with sticks, or that a whole covey could be shot, while perched on trees, by begin- ning at the lowest one ; but I never witnessed anything of the kind, and cannot therefore vouch for the truth of the assertion. During the autumn of 1833, these birds were uncommonly plentiful in the State of Maine. My friend Edward Harris, of New York, Thomas Lincoln, and others, killed a great number ; and the latter gentleman procured a pair alive, which were fed on oats and did well. " The flesh of this] Grouse is dark, and fit for being eaten only when it has fed on berries. In winter, when it feeds on the leaves of trees and other plants, the flesh is quite bitter and disagreeable. "According to Dr. Richardson, all the thick and swampy black spruce forests between Canada and the Arctic Ocean abound with this bird, and considerable numbers exist, in the severest seasons, as high as the UPLAND SHOOTING. 73 67th parallel. I am informed by Mr. Townsend that it is also plentiful on the Rocky Mountains and the plains of the Columbia, from which parts I have ob- tained specimens differing in nothing from others pro- cured in Maine and Labrador. I have also compared those in the Edinburgh Museum, which Mr. Douglass was pleased to name Franklin's Grouse, with several of my own, and feel confident that they are all of one and the same species.' j> From this vivid and life-like description of this beau- tiful little Grouse, its habits, food, motions, and the districts which it inhabits, it will be evident to all that it cannot be denied a place among the upland game of the United States and British Provinces ; while it is, I fear, scarcely less apparent that neither its numbers nor its manners will ever, in probability, allow it to be pursued successfully for the purposes of sport. In one respect only I must venture to differ from the great authority and venerable man, whom I have quoted above; atid this on a point only whereon the least scientific may l)e allowed to differ from the opinions of the wisest; since it is admitted everywhere that de gus- iibus non est disputandum. Mr. Audubon says that in winter the flesh is bitter and disagreeable. I have eaten it in winter, and then only, and while I must admit the almost resinous aromatic bitterness, I venture to pro- nounce it delicious in the extreme; and I believe that all epicures in game will agree with me — all those, I mean, who prefer the back bone and thighs of the Ruffed Grouse of America, or the Moorfowl of the British Isles, to the tamer white meat of the breast. European readers will understand the flavour I allude to, when I state that it closely resembles that of the Caper- caillie, as imported from Norway in the winter season. With this species I 'jhall conclude my notice of the Grouse Tetraonidw of America, since the Willow Ptarmigan, Tetrao Saliceti, "Red-necked Partridge," is so very rare that it really cannot be included under VOL. I. B n^ S'\ ■ Hii FIELD SPORTS. the head of Game, even that indefatigable explorer, Mr. Audubon, having failed to discover it within the limits of the States, although he expresses his conviction that *^it exists in the State of Maine, as well as in the Northern Districts bordering on the great lakes." ' ^ For the benefit of those who desire to be informed, and to learn the distinctions between Grouse, Pheasant, and Partridge, neither of the latter species existing in America, I will state simply and briefly that all Grouse are feathered on the legs, below the termination of the thigh, some quite to the toe nails. The Ruffed Grouse is feathered below the knee — the Pinnated and Canada Grouse to the ancles — the Willow Grouse to the claws. Of many generic marks this is the most decided. No game-bird but the Grouse is feathered below the knee, and he always. AMERICAN QUAIL. Ortya? Virginiana — Stephens. La Perdrix d'Amerique — Brissot, The Qually — " The Partridge " in Penn- srjlvania and Southward^ improperly. Female 9^.14. "Male 10.15. "Breeds abundantly from Texas to Massachusetts; in the interior, high on the Missouri, and in all inter- mediate districts. "Adult male. " Bill short, robust, rather obtuse, the base covered With feathers; upper mandible* with the dorsal outline curved, the sides convex, the edges overlapping, the tip declinate; under mandible nearly straight in its dorsal outline, arched on the edges, the sides convex, nostrils concealed among the feathers. Head and neck of ordinary size; body short and bulky. Feet of ordinary length; tarsus anteriorly scutellatefa a little ♦ Mandible — division of bill corresponding to the jaws. f Scutellate — covered with scales overlapping each other like tiles. UPLAND SHOOTING. 75 ^s convex. compressed, spurless. Toes scutellate above, pectinate* on the sides ; claws arched, obtuse. *•' Plumage compact, glossy. Feathers of the upper part of the head erectile into a tuft. Wings short, broad, much curved, and rounded; the fourth quill the longest. Tail short, rounded, of twelve rounded feathers. " Bill dark brown. Iris hazel. Feet grayish-blue. Tlie forehead, a broad line over each eye, and the throat and fore-neck white. Lore, auricularf coverts, and a broad semilunar band on the foreneck, more or less black. Upper part of the head, hind and lower part of the neck, all round, reddish-brown. Upper back and wing coverts, bright brownish-red; the lower part of the back, light red, tinged with yellow. Primaries dusky, externally margined with blue; secondaries irre- gularly barred with light red. Tail grayish-blue, excep- ting the middle feathers, which are dull grayish-yellow, springled with black. Sides of the neck spotted with white. Under parts white, streaked with brownish-red, transversely and undulatingly barred with black. Sides and under tail coverts, reddish. " Length, 10 inches; extent of wings, 15; bill along the back, i, along the gap, ^; tarsus I; middle toe nearly the same. " Young Male. " Similar to the adult male in the general distribution of the colours, but the white of the head and throat bright reddish -yellow; the back of the fore-neck and sides of the head, deep brown; the under parts less pure and more dusky; and the tail of a duller gray. "Adult Female. " The female resembles the young male, but is more decidedly coloured; the bill darker, the head of a more uniform and richer reddish-yellow; the sides of the neck spotted with yellow and black. * Pectinate — toothed like a comb, t Auricular — belonging to the ear. E 2 iitr 1 \ FIELD SPORTS. " Young Female. " The young females are somewhat smaller and lighter in their tints than the young males. " Very young Birds. ' "■ "Bill brbwnish-yellow. Iris light hazel. The general colour of the upper parts, light yellowish-brown, patched with gray: sides of the head dusky .^' — Audu- bon's Birds of America. "This well known bird is a general inhabitant of North America, from the northern parts of Canada and Nova Scotia, in which latter place it is said to be migra- tory to the extremity of the peninsula of Florida, and was seen in the neighbourhood of the Great Osage Vil- lage in the interior of Louisiana. They are numerous in Kentucky and Ohio. Mr. Pennant remarks that they have been lately introduced into the Island oi Jamaica, where they appear to thrive greatly, breeding in that warm climate twice in the year. Capt. Hender- son mentions them as being plenty near the Belize, at the Bay of Honduras. They rarely frequent the forest, and are most numerous in the vicinity of well cultivated plantations, where grain is plenty. '^They, however, occasionally seek shelter in the "woods, perching on the branches, or secreting them- selves among the brushwood, but are found most usually in open fields, or along fences sheltered by thickets of briars ; when they are not too much perse- cuted by the sportsman, they become almost half domesticated, approach the barn, particularly in winter, and sometimes in that severe season mix with th( poultry to glean up a subsistence. They remain with us a whole year, and often suffer extremely by long, hard winters, and deep snows. At such times the arts ^of man combine with the inclemency of the season for Iheir destruction. To the ravages of the gun are added others of a more insidious kind. Traps are placed on almost every plantation in such places as they are known to frequent. They are formed of lath or thinly split sticks, somewhat in the shape of an obtuse cone. UPLAND SHOOTING. 11 lacsd together with cord, having a small hole at the top with a sliding lid to take out the game by. This is supported by the common figure 4 trigger, and grain is scattered below and leading to the place. By this contrivance ten or fifteen have sometimes been taken at a time. These are sometimes brought alive to market, and occasionally bought up by sports- men, who, if the season be very severe, sometimes pre- serve and feed them till Spring, when they are humanely turned out to their native fields again, to be put to death some future time secundum artem. Between the months of August and March great numbers of these birds are brought to the market of Philadelphia, where they are sold at from twelve to eighteen cents a-piece. " The Quail begins to build early in May. The nest is made on the ground, usually at the bottom of a thick tuft of grass that shelters i-,nd conceals it. The mate- rials are leaves and fine dry grass, in considerable quantity. It is well covered above, and an opening left on one side for entrance. The female lays from fifteen to twenty-four eggs, of a pure white, without any spots. The time of incubation has been stated to me by various persons at four weeks, when the eggs were placed under the domestic Hen. The young leave the 'Hst as soon as they ar3 freed from the shell, and art conducted about in search of food Xy the female; are guided by her voice, w^hich, at that time, resembles the twittering of young chickens, and sheltered by It wings in the same manner as the domestic fowl, but with all that secrecy and precaution for their safety which their help- lessness and greater danger require. In this situation, should the little timid family be unexpectedly surprised, the utmost alarm and consternation prevails. The mother throws herself in the path, fluttering along and beating the ground with her wings, as if sorel; wounded, using every artifice she is master of to entice the pas- senger in pursuit of herself, uttering at the same time certain peculiar notes of alarm, well understood by the young, who dive separately amongst the grass, and 78 FIELD SPORTS. secrete themselves until the danger is over, and the parent having decoyed the pursuer to a safe distance, returns by a circuitous route to collect and lead them off. This well known manoeuvre, which nine times in ten is successful, is honourable to the feelings and judg- ment of the bird, but a severe satire on man. The affectionate mother, as if sensible of the avaricious cruelty of his nature, tempts him with a larger prize to save her more helpless offspring, and pays him as avarice and cruelty ought always to be paid, with morti- fication and disappointment. " The eggs of the Quail have been frequently placed under the domestic Hen, and hatched and reared with equal success as her own, tliough generally speaking, the young Partridges, being more restless and vagrant, often lose themselves and disappear. The Hen ought to be a particular good nurse, not at all disposed to ramble, in which case they are very easily raised. Those that survive acquire all the familiari^^y of common Chickens, and there is little doubt that if proper mea- sures were taken and persevered in for a few years, they might be completely domesticated. They have been often kept during the first season and through the whole of that winter, but have uniformly deserted in the spring. Two young Partridges that were brought up by a Hen, when abandoned by her, associated with the cows, which they regularly followed to the fields, returned with them when they came home in the even- ing, stood by them while they were milked, and again accompanied them to the pasture. These remained during the winter , lodging in the stable, but as soon as 11 spring came they disappeared. Of this fac", I was in- formed by a very respectable lad'^ by whom they were particularly observed. " It has been frequently asserted to me, that the Quails lay in each other^s nests. Though I have never myself seen a case of this kind, I do not think it alto- gether improbable, from the fact that they have often been known to drop their eggs in the nest of the com- UPLAND SHOOTING. 79 mon Hen, when that happened to be in the fields or at a small distance from the house. The two Partridges above mentioned were raised in this manner, and it was particularly remarked by the lady who gave me the in- formation, that the Hen sat for several days after her own eggs were hatched, until the young QiiaiU made their appearance. The Partridge, on her part, has sometimes been employed to hatch the eggs of Ihe com- mon domestic Hen. A friend of mine, who himself made the experiment, informs me that of several Hen's eggs which he suljstituted in place of those of the Partridge, she brought out the whole, and that for several weeks he occasionally surprised her in various parts of the plantation, with her brood of Chickens, on which occasions she exhibited all that distressful alarm, and practised her usual manteuvres for their preserva- tion. Even after they were considerably grown, and larger than the Partridge herself, she continued to lead them about ; but though the notes or call were those of common chickens, their manners had all the shyness, timidity, and alarm of young Partridges, running with great rapidity, and squatting in the grass exactly in the manner of the Partridge. Soon after tliis they disap- peared, having probably been destroyed by dogs, by the gun, or by birds of prey. Whether the domestic fowl migiit not by this method be very soon brought back to its original savage state, and thereby supply another additional subject for the amusement of the sportsman, will scarcely admit of doubt ; but the expe- riment, in order to secure its success, would require to be made in a quarter of the country less exposed 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 complely naturalized and well fixed in all their native habits. "About the beginning of September, the Quail being now nearly full grown, and associated in flocks or ccveys of from four or five to thirty, affords considerable sport to the gunner. At this time the notes of the male are m FIELD SPURTS. 1: most frequent, clear, and loud. His common call con- sists of two notes, with sometimes an introductory one. and is similar to the sound produced by pronouncing- the words Bob White,. This call may be easily mistaken by whistlings 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 i» dispersed they are called together by a loud and fre- quently repeated note, peculiarly expressive of tender- ness and anxiety. " The food of the Partridge consists of grain, seeds, insects, and berries of various kinds. Biickwheat and Indian corn are particular favourites. In September and October the buckwheat-fields aiFord them an abun- dant supply as well as a secure shelter. They usually roost at night in the middle of a field, on high ground, and from the circumstance of the dung being found in such places in one round heap, it is generally conjec- tured that they roost in a circle with their heads outward; **ach individual in tliis position forming a kind of guard to prevent surprise. They also continue to lodge for several nights in the same spot. *• The Partridge, like all the rest of the gallinaceous order, flies with a loud, whirring sound, occasioned by the shortness, concavity, and rapid motion of its wings, and the compr^rati- weight of its body. The steadi- ness of its horizontal flight however, renders it no difficult mark to the sportsman, particularly when assisted by his s^tgacious pointer. The flesh of this bird is peculiarly white, tender, and delicate, and un- equalled 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." — JVilsoti's Am. Ornithology. UPLAND SHOOTING. 81 . THE WOODCOCK. Scolopax Minor. — La Becasse d'Amerique — Brissot, The Mud-Snipe, Blind-Snipe, Big-headed Snipe, Bog- Sucker. ''Male, 11.16. Female, 11 ^5^.17^. " Distributed throughout the country, extremely abun- dant 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, tapering, sub-trigonal, and deeper than broad at the base, slightly depressed toward the end. Upper man- dible, with the dorsal line straight ; the ridge narrow, toward the end flattened ; the sides nearly erect, slop- ing outward toward the soft, obtuse edges ; the tip blunt, knob-Vke, and longer than that of the lower mandible. Nostrils basal, lateral, lineal, very small. Lower mandible oi :)ader than the upper ; the angle very long and li&rrow, 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 and 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 shorter than the fourth, the third much longer and exceeding the tarsus in length ; all scutellate above, marginate, flattish, beneath. Claws very small, arched, acute, that of the hind toe extremely small, of middle toe with a thin inner edge. b3 \ fiE."*' ''" Wm FIELD SPORTS. ^ " 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 beyond the middle, the inner web slightly enlarged toward the end, the first as long as the seventh. Secondaries brcid, the outer a little incurved and rounded, the inner tapering and elongated. Tail very short, wedge-shaped, of twelve narrow feathers, which taper towards the rounded point. " Bill light yellowish-brown, dusky towards the end. Iris brown. Feet flesh-coloured ; claws brownish-black. The forehead is yellowish -gray, with a few dark mot- tlings in the centre. On the upper part of the head are two blackish-brown broad transverse 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 check, and continued to the occiput. The upper parts arc variegated with brownish- black, light yellowish-red, and ash-gray. There are three broad, longitudinal bands of the first colour, barred with the second, down the back, separated by two of the last. The inner wing coverts and secondary quills are similarly barred : the outer, pale grayish-red, faintly barred with dusky. The quills are grayish- brown, tipped with dull gray, the secondaries spotted on the outer web with dull red. Upper tail coverts barred; tail feathers brownish-black, their tips gray, their outer edges mottled with reddish. The sides of the neck are gray, tinged with red ; the lower parts in general, light red, tinged with gray on the breast, on the sides and lower wing coverts deeper; the lower tail coverts with a central dusky line, and tha tip white. " Length to end of tail, 11 inches; to end of wino-s, 9|; wing from flexure, 5^ ; tail, 2-^; bill along the ridge, ^-frr ; along the edge of the lower mandible, 2^- ; tarsus, 1^2- ; middle toe, 1^^; its claw, i; weight, 61 oz. UPLAND SHOOTING. 84 " Adult Female. "Tlie femule, which is considerably larger, has the same colours as the male. " Length to end of tail, ll^y ; to end of wings, lOi^J to end of claws, 1.3-i*,j ; wing, from flexure, 5-^-^-, tail, 2-j*^ ; bill along the ridge. 2|o ; along the edge of lower mandible, 2^f ; tarsus, l-fxi middle toe, It^^j its claw, ^; weight, 8|oz. " Fledged young. "When fully fledged, similar to the old birds.'*— Audubon's Birds of America. • "This bird is universally known to our sportsmen. It arrives in Pennsylvania early in March — sometimes sooner — and, I dou])t not, in mild winters, some few remain with us the whole of that season. " During tlie day they keep to the woods and thickets, and at the approach of evening seek the high and open country places to feed in. They soon dis- perse themselves over the country to breed. About the beginning of July, particularly in long-continued hot weather, they descend to the marshy shores of our large rivers, their favourite springs and watery recesses inland being chiefly dried up. To the former of these retreats they are pursued by the 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 intersected with olu logs, which are covered and liid from sight by high reeds, weeds, and alder bushes — the best dogs are soon tired out, and it is customary with sportsman who regularly pursue this diversion, to have two sets of dogs to relieve each other alternately. " The 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 ; 1 I# FIELD SPORTS, is formed of a few withered leaves and stalks of grass, laid with very little art. "The female lays four, sometimes five eggs, about an inch and a ..alf long, and an inch, or r \ V SJ :\ \ LV '^-v c> ^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 y. O"^ ill FIELD SPORTS. , , ' range of vision, and to secure the eye from injury while the owner is searching in the mire. The flight of the Woodcock is slow. When flushed at any time in the woods, he rises to the height of the bushes or under- wood, 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 male and female — the latter being considerably the larger. When taken, they utter a long, clear, but feeble peep, not louder than that of a mouse. They are far inferior to young partridges, in running and skulking, and, should the female be unfortunately killed, may be easily taken on the spot.'' — Wilson's Am. Ornithology, COMMON SNIPE. Scolopax Wilsonii. — The English Snipe, « Male, 10^.17. " Distributed throughout the country. Breeds from Virginia northward. Exceedingly abundant in the Southern and Western districts during winter. *^ Adult male. "Bill twice as long as the head, subulate, straight, depressed toward the end, compressed for more than half its length. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight ; the ridge, for a short space at the base, flat- tish, then convex ; towards the end flattened ; the sides with a narrow groove extending to near the tip, which is obtuse and probe-like; the edges soft and obtuse. Nostrils basal, linear, very small. Lower mandible with the angle extremely narrow and long, the sides nearly erect, with a groove having several bars across it ; the end of both mandibles covered, after death, with numerous prominences, or rather with reticular depres- sions, leaving small prominences between them. " Head rather small, oblong, narrowed anteriorly, the forehead elevated and rounded. Neck rather short. UPLAND SHOOTING. 87 rs across Body rather full. Legs of moderate length, slender; tibia bare below, scutellate before and behind; tarsus with numerous scutella before, smaller ones behind, and reticulated sides; toes very slender, free, scutellate above, narrow and slightly margined beneath ; first very small, third longer than the tarsus ; fourth much shorter, but considerably longer than the second. Claws slightly arched, extremely compressed, very acute, that of the third toe longest. *' Plumage very soft, rather full, blended ; on the forepart of the head very short. Wings of moderate length, narrow, sharp; primaries broad, tapering, but rounded, the first extremely small and pointed, the second longest, the third very little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated ; secondaries broad, short, incurved, rounded, the inner very long, tapering, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounded, of sixteen rounded feathers. " Bill brown, the granulated part toward the tip black. Iris hazel. Feet bluish-gray, claws dusky. On the upper part of the head two brownish-black longitu- dinal bands, separated by a narrower central pale brown one, and with another pale brown band on each side from the bill over the eye. Then a loral band of dark brown ; chin whitish ; neck pale reddish-brown, spotted with brownish-black. The general colour of upper parts is brownish-black, variegated with pale reddish-brown, of which lat,ter colour are the outer edges of the scapulars and of the lateral feathers on the anterior part of the back. Wing-coverts, and inner secondaries, similarly mottled ; the small anterior coverts, the primary co- verts, primary quills, and outer secondaries, deep brown more or less tipped with white ; rump barred with yel- lowish-gray and dusky ; upper tail coverts similar, but the larger barred with brownish-red and black. Tail feathers brownish-black at the base, with a broad sub- terminal band of brownish-red on the outer web of the two middle, and on both webs of the rest, excepting the outer on each side, which is barred with brownish-black 88 FIELD SPORTS. and white, the black bars five ; the tips of all white. Anterior part of breast like the neck, the rest white; ab- domen and lower tail coverts grayish-yellow, barred with brownish-black ; lower wing coverts similarly mottled. " Length to end of tail, 10^ inches ; to end of claws, 11^; extent of wings, 17; wing, from flexure, 5; tail, 2^ ; bill along the back, 2^-j ? along the edge of the lower mandible, 2^; tarsus, ly2_ ; middle toe, 1^ ; its claw, aT- ; weight, 3oz. " Adult female. " The female bird resembles the male, but is rather larger."' --Audubon^ s Birds of America. " This bird is well known to our sportsmen, and if not the same, has a very near resemblance to the com- mon Snipe of Europe. It is usually known by the name of the English Snipe, to distinguish it from the Woodcock, and from several others of the same genus. " It arrives in Pennsylvania about the 10th of March, and remains in the low grounds for several weeks, the greater part then move off to the north and to the higher inland districts, to breed. A few are occasion- ally found and consequently breed in our low marshes during the summer. When they first arrive they are usually lean, but when in eood order are accounted excellent eating. They a' ^rhaps the most difficult to shoot of all our birds, ^ they fly in sudden zigzag lines, and very rapidly. Great numbers of these birds winter on the ric^-grounds of the Southern States, where, in the month of February, they appeared to be much tamer than they usually are here, as I have fre- quently observed them running about among the springs and watery thickets. I was told by the inhabitants that they generally disappeared in the spring. " On the 20th of March I found these birds extremely numerous on the borders of the ponds near Louisville, Ky., and also in the neighbourhood of Lexington, in the same State, as late as the 10th of April. I was told by several people that they are abundant in the UPLAND SHOOTING. 89 Illinois country up as far as Lake Micliigan. They are but seldom seen in Pennsylvania during the summer, but are occasionally met with in considerable numbers, on their return in autumn, along the whole east side of the Alleghany, from the sea to the mountains. They have the same soaring, irregular flight in the air, in gloomy weather, as the Snipe of Europe; the same bleating note, and occasional rapid descent, spring from the marshes with the like feeble squeak, and in every respect resemble the common Snipe of Great Britain, except in being about an inch less, and in having sixteen feathers in the tail instead of fourteen, the number said by Bewick to be in that of Europe. From these circumstances we must either conclude this to be a different species, or partially changed by difference of climate ; the former appears to me the most probable opinion of the two. "These birds abound in the meadows and low grounds along our large rivers, particularly those that border the Schuylkill and Delaware, from the 10th of March to the middle of April, and sometimes later, and are eagerly sought after by our gunners. The nature of the grounds, however, which these birds frequent, the coldness of the season, and peculiar shyness and agiUty of the game, renders this amusement attractive only to the most dexterous, active, and eager of our sportsmen.^^ — Wilson's Am. Ornithology, The last of what may be called the purely Upland game birds of North America, is that commonly known as the Upland Plover, also called the Frost Bird and Grass Plover, from the places which it frequents, and the periods at which it is found in perfection. It is, in my opinion, with no exception, unless perhaps it be the Canvass-back Duck, the most delicious bird that flies. Though generally known as a Plover, it does not belong to that species, but to that of Totanus, Tatler, a sort of connecting link between the Snipes and Sandpipers — the Plover proper having no hind toe. 90 FIELD SPORTS, This is the only one of the three families above named that is, in the United States, a land-bird, its habits being those of the European Golden Plover, the Ameri- can namesake of which is essentially a shore-bird. The Upland Sandpiper, or Tatler, is thus described by Mr. Audubon : BARTRAM'S TATLER. Tot anus Bartramius — Upland Plover, Upland Sandpiper ^ Frost Bird, Grass Plover, "Male, 121.22. Female, 13.22f. " From Texas along the coast to Nova Scotia. Breeds from Maryland northward to the Saskatchewan. In vast flocks in Louisiana, Oppelousas, and the Western Prairies, in autumn and spring. Rare in Kentucky. " Adult Male. " Bill a little longer than the head, slender, straight, slightly deflected at the end. Upper mandible with the dorsal line straight, the edges convex, the sides grooved beyond the middle, afterwards convex, the edges in- flected, tiie tips a little deflected, and tapering to an obtuse point. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, linear, pervi- ous, nearer the edge than the dorsal line. Lower mandible with the angle very narrow and elongated, beyond it the outline slightly convex, the sides sloping outward and concave until the middle, afterward flat- tened, the edges sharp, the point very narrow. " Head rather small, convex above, compressed. Neck of moderate length, slender. Body rather slender. Feet long and slender, tibia bare about half its length, scutellate before and behind ; tarsus long, slender, hav- ing before and behind numerous scutella ; the narrow lateral spaces with very small, oblong scales. Toes slender ; the first very short, the second much shorter than the fourth, the third and fourth connected at the base by a web ; the scutella numerous ; claws small, compressed, slightly arched, rather blunt. " Plumage soft; on the neck and lower parts blended; UPLAND SHOOTING. 91 on the uprer rather distinct. Wings rather long, acute, narrow. Primaries taper and rounded ; the first longest, the second a little shorter, the rest rapidly graduated ; secondaries obliquely rounded, the inner elongated and tapering. Tail of moderate length, much rounded, of twelve rather narrow feathers. " Bill yellowish-green, tip dusky, the edges toward the base yellow. Iris dark hazel. Legs and tarsi light yellowish-gray, toes rather darker, claws brownish-black. Upper part of the head dark-brown, with a median pale yellowish-brown line; the margin of the feathers also of that colour which prevails along the sides of the head and the back of the neck, which are streaked with dusky ; the eye surrounded with yellowish-whits. Throat yellowish-white, without spots; forepart and sides of the neck, with a portion of the breast and sides of the body, cream-coloured, with dusky lines, which gradually become arrow-shaped on the breast, forming a double transverse band; the feathers on the side barred; the rest of the lower parts and lower wing coverts white, banded with brownish-black. On the upper parts the feathers are dark -brown, glossed with green, with rich cream-coloured margins; the rump darker. On the margins of the scapulars, within the pale edge, is a series of dusky spots which, toward the end, become continuous. Alula, primary coverts, and primary quills blackish-brown, the inner webs crossed by white bands, until about an inch from the end ; the shaft of the first quill white, those of the rest dusky. Secondaries grayish-brown, their outer margins pale brown with dusky spots; the inner darker. The two middle feathers of the tail are dark olive, tinged with gray, transversely barred with black, the last bar arrow- shaped, the margins light cream-colour, the next feather on each side lighter, and tinged with yellowish-red ; the rest gradually lighter, the outer white, all barred with black. " Length to the end of the tail, 12^ inches; to the end of wings, llg ; to the end of claws, 13| ; extent of 92 FIELD SPORTS. wings, 22 ; wing from flexure, 7 > tail, 3f ; base part of tibia, -fjj ; tarsus, 1 ^ ; first toe, -^ ; claw, -^ ; bill along the ridge, 1^^; along the edge of lower mandible, l^; weight, 6 oz. r - . "Female. " The female is a little larger, and weighs 7 oz., but resembles the male in colour. The individual of which the weight is here given, was very fat; but I have never met with any that weighed three-fourths of a pound, as described by Wilson. ' > ' : ' " The Bartramian Sandpiper is the most truly terres- trial of its tribe with which I am acquainted. It is even more inclined at all seasons to keep away from water than the Kildeer Plover, which may often be seen along the sandy or muddy margin of the shores of the sea, or of fresh-water lakes and streams. Although not unfrequently met with in the vicinity of such places, it never ventures to wade into thcM ; and yet the form and length of its legs and feet, would naturally induce a person not acquainted with its habits, to consider it as a wading-bird. " The dry, upland plains of those sections of Lou- isiana, called Oppelousas and Attakapas, are amply peopled with this species early in spring, as well as in autumn. They arrive there from the vast prairies of Texas and Mexico, where they spend the winter, in the beginning of March or about the first appearance of the Martins — Hirundo Purpurea — and return about the 1st of August. They are equally abundant on all the Western Prairies on either side of the Missouri, where, however, they arrive about a month later than in liOuisana, whence they disperse over the United States, reaching the Middle Districts early in May, and the State of Maine by the middle of that month, or about the same period at which they are seen in Indiana, Kentucky, and Ohio. Some proceed as far north as the plains adjoining the Saskatchewan River, where Dr. Richardson met with this species in May. " It has been supposed that the Bartramian Sand- UPLAND SHOOTING. piper never forms large flocks ; but this is not correct — for in the neighbourhood of New Orleans, where it is called the * Papabote/ it usually arrives, in great bands, in spring, and is met with on the open plains and large grassy savannahs, where it generally remains about two weeks, — though sometimes individuals may be seen as late as the 15th of May. I have observed the same circumstance on our Western Prairies, but have]^thought that they were afterward obliged to sepa- rate into small flocks, or even into pairs, as soon as they are ready to seek proper places for breeding in; for I have seldom found more than two pairs with nests or young in the same field or piece of ground. On their first arrival they are generally thin, but on their return southward, in the beginning of August, when they tarry in Louisiana until the 1st of October, they are fat and juicy. I have observed that, in Spring, when they are poor, they are usually much less shy than in autumn, when they are exceedingly wary and difficult of approach; but this general observation is not without exceptions, and the difference, I think, depends on the nature of the localities in which they happen to be found at either period. When on newly- ploughed fields, which they are fond of frequenting, they see a person at a greater distance than when they are searching for food among the slend, • i'rasses of the plains. I have also thought that the size of the flocks may depend upon similar contingencies; for this bird is by no means fond of the society of man. "Like the Spotted Sandpiper — Totanus Macularius — they not unfrequently alight on fences, trees, and out-houses ; but, whether in such situations or on the ground, they seldom settle without raising both wings upright to their full extent, and uttering their loud, prolonged, and pleasing notes. They run with great activity, stop suddenly, and vibrate their body once or twice. "When earnestly followed by the sportsman, they lower their heads in the manner of Wilson's Plover, \\ (i;i; 94 FIELD SPORTS. and the species called the Piping, and run off rapidly, or squat, according to the urgency of the occasion. At other times, they partially extend their wings, run a few steps as if about to fly, and then cunningly move off sideways, and conceal themselves among the grass, or bahind a clod. You are unfroquently rendered aware of your being near them by unexpectedly hearing their plaintive and mellow notes, a circumstance, however, which I always concluded to be indicative of tlie wari- ness of their disposition ; for, although you have just heard those well-known cries, yet, on searching for the bird itself, you nowhere see it — for the cunning creature has slipped away and hid itself. When wounded in the wing, they run to a great distance, and are rarely found. ** Like all experienced travellers, they appear to accommodate themselves to circumstances, as regards their food — for in Louisiana they feed on cantharides and other coleopterous insects ; in Massachusetts on grasshoppers, on which my friend Nuttall says they soon grow fat ; in the Carolinas on crickets and other insects, as well as the seeds of the crab-grass — Digitaria Sanguinaria — and in the Barrens of Kentucky they often pick the strawberries. Those which feed much on cantharides require to be very carefully cleansed, otherwise persons eating them are liable to suifer severely. Several gentlemen of New Orleans have assured me that they have seen persons at dinner obliged to leave the room at once, under such circum- stances as cannot well be described here. Whcin fla- voured with the ripe strawberries on which they have fed, their flesh is truly delicious. " This species performs its migrations by night as well as by day. Its flight is rather swift and well sus- tained. While travelling, it generally flies so high as to be beyond the reach of the gun ; but, if the weather be cloudy, or if it blow hard, it flies lower, and may be easily shot. It generally proceeds in straggling bands, and moves along with continuous easy beats of its wings, UPLAND SHOOTING. fi but sails as it were, when about to alight, as well as during the love season. "As long ago as 1805 and 1806, I observed this species breeding in the meadows and green fields of my plantation of Millgrove, near the banks of the Per- kioming Creek. Since then, I have known of its rear- ing broods in different parts of Pennsylvania, in the State of New York, and in various districts to the Eastward, as far as the confines of Maine ; but I did not find it in Newfoundland or Labrador ; and I have reason to believe that it does not breed to the south of Maryland. " I have found the eggs of this bird laid on the bare earth, in a hollow, scooped out to the depth of about an inch and a half, near the roots of a tuft of rank grass, in the middle of a meadow ; and have seen some nests of the same species formed of loosely-arranged grasses, and placed almost beneath low bushes, growing on poor, elevated ridges, furnished with a scanty vegetation. When disturbed while on its nest, but unobserved, it runs thirty or forty yards, and then flies off, as if severely wounded. Should it have young, its attempts to decoy you away are quite enough to induce you to desist from distressing it. The eggs measure an inch and five and a-half eighths by an inch and a quarter in their greatest breadth. In form they resemble those of the Totanus Macularius, being l)roadly rounded at one end and rather pointed ut the other ; their surface smooth, their ground colour dull grayish-yellow, with numerous spots of light purple and reddish-brown. They are placed in the nest in the same manner ris those of the Spotted Sandpiper; that is, with the smaller ends together; which is also the case with those of the Telltale God- wit, Wilson's Plover, and the Kildeer Plover." — Audu' ban's Birds of America, From these seven species, constituting the Upland Game Birds, proper, of the United States — for reasons which have been stated above, I prefer to consider the I! • 96 FIELD SPORTS. Wild Turkey under the head of Western Sporting — I come to the two varieties of Hare — Pseudo-Rabbit, and White Rabbit; the true genera and distinctive marks of which are subjoined. THE AMERICAN HARE. Lepus Americanus, Lepus Virginianus, I have already mentioned, that there is no variety of Rabbit found on this continent; although, from the smaller size, the lighter and grayer colour of its fur, and its general resemblance to the wild Rabbit of Europe, the smaller species — Lepus Americanus — which is found in almost every part of the United States and Canada, is invariably termed, and very generally believed to be a Rabbit. This misnomer is not, like the calling Grouse " Phea- sant and Partridge," a mere error in nomenclature, used by persons who are well aware of the distinction, and sometimes adopt the false instead of the true name, as it were compulsorily, and in order to make themselves understood by the ignorant — as I have found myself obliged to term Woodcock Blind Snipe, in conversation with country people — but is an absolute mistake, which is held by many sportsmen, who will not be convinced of the contrary. Sportsmen are, indeed, but too apt to undervalue, and even ridicule, the minute distinctions of the natu- ralist; not understanding how so small differences as are in some questions alone decisive of species and genera, can be of the weight ascribed to them; and will persist, even after they are informed to the contrary, in supporting their own opinion against the definitions of science ; which is, in fact, not one whit less ridiculous than it were for any one to dispute with the philosopher the earth's roundness, or the sun's volume, because his eyes cannot discern all that is taught by science. The European Hare, it is well known, is more than UPLAND SHOOTING. # double the size and weight of the Air erican variety ; weighing, when full gro\vn, from six to eight pounds ; and measuring two feet in length — while the American congener is not above eighteen inches long, at the utmost, and does not weigh above two pounds. It is natural enough, therefore, that the European sportsman should be inclined to doubt the fact, associating his ideas of the animal with the large kind which he has hunted or shot at home, when he is told that the little grayish creature, which so very closely resembles the Rabbit of his country in size, is not a Rabbit but a Hare. In many points, moreover, connected with his haunts, habits, and history, the small Hare of America resem- bles the Rabbit of the eastern continent ; although in others more marked, and, indeed, positively decisive of his species, the two animals differ entirely. i The points of similarity lie in this, that the smaller American Hare, like the Rabbit of Europe, loves craggy and inaccessible wooded hill-sides ; and, when hard pressed by dogs, will betake itself to holes and clefts in the rock ; and that he has the same skulking habit, and much the same motion. The great difference is, that he never dwells in vast congregations or warrens, and never burrows in the earth for his habitual dwelling-place. This point, with some others, of structure and breeding, is decisive against his being a Rabbit " The American Hare — Lepus Americarms, — Vulgo, The Rabbit. "Length, from nose to tip of hind claws, 16 inches ; length of hind legs, 10-j^; of head, 3^j of ears, 3^ ; of tail 2^7 ; weight, 3 to 4lbs. " Ears shorter than the head. Forehead convex. Claws sharp-pointed, and nearly straight. Upper an- terior incisors white, with a deep, longitudinal groover near the inner margin ; the small incisors behind short, oppressed to the anterior incisors, and inserted into the upper maxillary. First molar above simple, recurved ; VOL. I. F 98 FIELD SPORTS. the four succeeding larger, and of nearly equal size, composed of double folds of enamel ; the last simple, cylindrical, directed forward, and scarcely attaining the length of its predecessors. Beneath, the incisors are smooth; in front long and subquadrate. The first molar inclined backward, grooved before, and with a double groove on the outer surface; the succeeding ones to the last upright, nearly equal, with a single groove and two prominent ridges on their external sur- faces ; the last smallest, inclined forward, with a slight groove on the external surface, and the tip exhibits a double case of enamel. " Colour, — In summer the general colour is yellowish- brown, which becomes more or less rufous on the outer surface of the extremities and on the breast. Margin of the eyes blackish-brown, and outside of this a circle of yellowish-white. Throat and under side of the tail white. Abdomen grayish-white. Ears edged with white and tipped with brown. Fur plumbeous, lead- coloured at the base, and for much of its length. In winter the fur becomes longer, and the upper surface of the head and body lighter, occasionally iron-gray ; but I have never seen it as white as is stated by Godman. There may, however, be white varieties ; but cannot be said to have two distinct coats of fur. **The most remarkable distinctions of this species, by which it is discernible alike from the Rabbit and the common Hare of America, are as follows: — 1st. His size, which is much inferior to that of the common or variable Hare, and little superior to that of the common wild Rabbit of Europe ; whence he" is frequently con- founded with the Rabbit. 2nd. The proportion of his legs ; the hind legs being longer, the fore legs shorter, than those of the larger Hares. 3rd. The colour and lenoth of the ears, which have a black margin at the outside, and no black mark at the tip, and are also shorter than those of the common Hare. 4th. The upper side of the tail is less black. 5th. The body is grayer than that of the other species of Hare. 6th. Its UPLAND SHOOTING. 99 habits, which are purely those of a Hare, as distinct from those of the Rabbit. " Unlike its congener, the Northern or Varying Hare, it does not confine itself to the woods, but is frequently found in open fields, or where there is a slight copse or underbrush. It never burrows, like its closely-allied species, the European Rabbit, but makes its form, which is a slight depression in the ground, sheltered by some low shrub. It frequently resorts to a stone wall, a heap of stones, or a hollow tree, and sometimes to the burrow of some other animal. Its food consists of bark, buds, grass, wild berries, &c. Its habits are noc- turnal. It breeds three times in the season, producing from four to six at a birth. It has not a wide geogra- phical range, being found from New Hampshire to Florida. Its western limits are not yet ascertained." — Dekay's Nat. Hist. o/N. York, S^c. In addition to this, I think it well to observe, that this is a solitary animal, not gregarious and congregating in large companies, and not breeding monthly, like the European Rabbit ; and that, so far as my own observation goes, it does not change its colour in winter. Dr. Dekay evidently leans to this latter opinion, in spite of other authorities, who have evidently confounded this with the following species : THE NORTHERN HARE. Varying Hare — Lepus Virginianus. — Vulgo, White Rabbit, " Length of head and body, 20-25 inches ; of the hind legs, 11^; of fore legs, 6^^; of the head, 3^; of the ears, 3^*^ ; of the tail, \-^; weight, 6^ lbs. " Head short; nose blunt; eyes large and prominent; ears broad and approximated; upper anterior incisors long and slender, moderately grooved ; the small pos- terior incisors not as large as in^ the preceding species ; f2 100 FIELD SPORTS. lower incisors wedge-shaped, nearly straight. Molars more compressed and broader than in the preceding species. Skull depressed between the orbits. Body covered with loose, shaggy hair. Feet thickly covered with hair above and beneath, concealing the long, thin, and slightly curved claws. Whiskers long and numerous, black, or black and white ; a tuft of three or four over the eyes, and some beneath the chin. ** Independently of the change by season of this Hare, it may be said that at no time, unless in the high northern latitudes, can two individuals be found marked precisely alike. At all seasons the base of the fur is lead-coloured above, and white beneath. " Winter Dress. — White, or nearly so, with irregular spots and dashes of a bright fawn colour, which is more apparent on the ears, forelegs, and rump; ears margined with blackish-brown above, being deeper toward the tips ; tail, and all beneath, white. " Summer Dress. — Above, bright fawn or reddish- brown ; forehead, cheeks, and ears of the same colour ; all beneath, white; edge of the ears white, bordered with darker, particularly toward the tip. At all seasons the hair on the soles is dirty white. Margin of the eyelids, dark brown ; pupil dark brown. Iris yellowish. " It is a distinct variety, dilFering in many respects from the common Hare, Lepus Timidits, the Varying Hare, Lepus Variabilis, and the Alpine Hare, Lepus Glacialis, of Europe. " It is found from Canada as far north as Hudson's Bay, southerly to the northern parts of Pennsylvania, perhaps even of Virginia; but in the Middle States is only found in mountainous and roughly wooded districts. " Its period of gestation is about six weeks ; it bears from four to six young at a litter. ** The flesh of this and the preceding species is insipid, dry, and savourless, depending entirely on the condiments and cooking for its moderate goodness.'' — Dekay's Nat. Hist. UPLAND SHOOTING. 101 W>b these seven birds and two quadrupeds I might pic. rly enough close my enumeration of our Upland game. There are, however, six species of Duck, which I have named above — ^The Dusky, vulgo Black Duck; The Mallard; The Blue-winged and The Green- winged Teal; The Summer, or Wood Duck; and The Pintail Duck; all of which, although water- fowl, may be regarded with great fitness as Upland game, since they all frequent fresh lakes, marshes, and streams — are frequently killed in swamps far inland, and many hundreds of miles above tide water, and with but one exception, are rarely met with or taken, in very great abundance, on the sea-shores, or even on salt marshes. The Dusky Duck is indeed a frequenter of the bays and of the Long Island Sound; I have, however, shot him so often, even over dead points from setters, on inland meadows — ^his flesh is so far superior when so taken, and above all, he so evidently prefers fresh feed- ing grounds, so long as the weather will permit — that I must regard him rather as Upland than Shore game. The American Widgeon, and The Shoveller, are so rare, except on the great western waters, which are indeed frequented by almost every variety of fowl, excepting only a few of the purely Sea Ducks, that it is needless to do more than name them. The varieties of the Mergapjser, generally known as Sheldrake, though sufficiently abundant, I can scarce bring myself to regard as game, their flesh being so rank and fishy as to be scarcely eatable. The six varieties above named, as being the most delicious, and in plumage the most beautiful of the whole Duck tribe, must not be passed over so lightly. The first of these which I shall mention as being worthy of remark as the parent stock of our domestic Duck and Drake, second in succulence and flavour to none but the Canvass-back and Red-head, and superior to all except the Wood Duck in beauty, is 102 FIELD SPORTS. ,^ . i <• "Adult Male. " Bill almost as long as the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end; its breadth nearly equal iil 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 margins a little broader at the end. Nos- trils sub-basal, near the ridge, rather small, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible flattened, straight, with the angle very long and rather narrow, the dorsal line very short and slightly convex, the sides internally erect, with about a hundred and twenty lamellae. v -nj^m "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 covered with reticulated angular scales. Toes with numerous scutella above. First toe very small, and with a narrow membrane 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, compressed, 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, rather narrow and acute; primaries strong, slightly curved, tapering; the first scarcely longer than the second, the rest rapidly decreasing; secondaries broad, the outer obliquely rounded, the inner elongated and acuminate, as are the scapulars. ns UPLAND SHOOTING. 113 Tail short, rounded and acuminate, of fourteen rather narrow acuminate feathers. "Bill bluish-black. Iris dark hazel. F^et dull yellow; webs dusky. Claws brownish-black, with the tips grayish-yellow. Upper part of the head black; a semilunar patch of pure white on the side of the head before the eye, margined before and bohind with black. The rest of the head, and the anterior parts of the neck, of a deep purplish-blue, with purplish-red reflections; 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, the feathers edged with paler. The smaller wing-coverts of a rich ultra-marine blue, silky, with almost metallic lustre. Alula, primary coverts and pri- mary quills, grayish-brown, edged with pale bluish; outer secondaries of the same colour, those of the spe- culum duck-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-bufF; the more elongated scapu- lars similar, but some of them margined with greenish- blue. '-. -■ ', -'',^/ ' '- :•• ■■.- - :r:>' ,;■■■ " Secondary coverts brown, with their terminal por- tion white. Tail feathers chocolate-brown, slightly glossed with green; their margins buffy. The lower parts are pale reddish-orange, shaded on the breast with purplish-red, and thickly spotted with black, the num- ber of roundish or elliptical spots on each feather vary- ing from ten to twenty-five; those on the upper and hind parts of the sides running into transverse bars. Axillary 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 flexure, 7-iV> *^^^j ^A> bill along the back, 1^; f I 114 FIELD SPORTS. from frontal process to tip, 1^; tarsus, 1^^; first toe and claw, -^-^ ; middle toe and claw, 1^ j outer toe and claw, l-f^', weight, 12^ oz. « Adult Female. " Bill greenish-dusky. Iris hazel. Feet of a duller yollow than those of female; the head and neck are pale, dull buff, longitudinally marked with brownish- black lines, which are broader 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 coloured as in the male, but less briUiantly; no blue on the scapulars, which are also less elongated. On the lower parts, the feathers are dusky-brown, broadly margined with light brownish- grey, 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 colour, so con- spicuous in the male, is wanting. " Length to end of tail, 15 inches; to end of wings, 14| ; to end of claws, 15^ ; extent of wings, 24; wing from flexure, 7i j tail, 2-^ ; bill along the ridge, 2^ ; weight, 10|oz. " The young birds are similar to the female, but paler, and without the speculum." — Audubon's Birds of America. " The Blue-Winged 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 Delaware, where they sit on the mud, close to the edge of the water, so crowded together that the gunners often kill great num- bers at a single discharge. When a flock is discovered thus sitting and sunning themselves, the experienced gunner runs his bateau ashore at some distance above or below them, and, getting out, pushes her before him over the slippery mud, concealing himself all the while behind her. By this method he can sometimes UPLAND SHOOTING. 115 approach within twenty yards of the flock^ among which he generally makes great slaughter. They fly rapidly, and when they alight drop down suddenly, like the Snipe or Woodcock, among the reeds or on the mud. They feed chiefly on vegetable 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. They abound in the inundat:=,d rice-fields of the Southern States, where 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 figure four they are caught alive in hollow traps. In the month of April they pass through Pennsylvania for the North, but make little stay at that season. I have observed them numerous on the Hudson, opposite to the Katskill Mountains. They rarely visit the sea shore." — Wilson's Am. Ornithology, The Blue- Winged Teal is stated to be very easily tamed, and very docile in confinement. It is strange that this bird and the Wood Duck are not both domes- ticated, ii h THE GREEN-WINGED TEAL. Anas Crecca, sive Carolinensis. " Male, 14|.24. Female, 13|.22i. " Dispersed throughout the country during autumn and spring. Extremely abundant during winter in all the Southern States 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 breadth nearly equal in its whole length, being, however, a 116 FIELD SPORTS. little enlarged toward the rounded tip. Upper mandible with the dorsal line at first sloping, then concave, toward the ends nearly straight, the ridge broad and fiat at the base, then broadly convex, the sides convex, the edges soft, with about fifty-five lamellae. Nostrils sub- basal, near the ridge rather small, elliptical, pervious. Lower mandible flattish, with the angle very long and rather narrow. The dorsal line very short, straight, the sides perpendicular, with about a hundred and thirty lamellae. ** Head of moderate size, compressed. Neck of moderate length, rather slender. Body full, depressed. Wings rather small. Feet short, placed rather far back. Tarsus short, compressed at its lower part, anteriorly with two series of scutella, the rest covered with reti- culated angular scales. Toes scutellate above ; first toe very small, free, with a narrow membrane beneath; third longest, fourth a little shorter ; the anterior toes connected by reticulated webs, of which the outer is deeply sinuate. 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 upper part of hind neck very narrow, elongated, with soft, filamentous, disunited bands ; of the rest of the head and upper parts of neck very short; of the back and lower parts in general, broad and rounded. Wings of moderate length, narrow, acute. Primaries strong, curved, tapering; second longest ; first scarcely shorter ; secondaries broad, rather pointed, the inner elongated and tapering, as are the scapulars. Tail short, rounde i and acuminate, of six- teen acuminate feathers. " Bill black. Iris brown. Feet light bluish-gray. Head and upper part of the neck chesnut-brown ; a broad band narrowing backward from the eye down the back of the neck, deep, shining green, edged with black below ; under which is a white line, which, before the eye, meets another that curves forward and downward tol arj U roi wil Wl vie UPLAND SHOOTING. 117 the i-gray. n; a n the black •e the ward to the angles of the ir.Duth. Chin brownish-black, as are the feathers at the base of the upper mandible. Upper parts and flanks beautifully undulated with nar- row, brownish-black and white bars ; anterior to the wings is a short, broad, transverse 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, before with reddish- white. Tail brownish-gray, the feathers margined with paler ; the upper coverts brown- ish-black, edged with light yellowish-gray. Lower part of neck anteriorly barred as behind. ..iieast yel- lowish-white, spotted with black ; its lower part white. Abdomen white, faintly barred with gray. A. patch of black under the tail; the lateral tail-coverts cream- coloured, the larger black, with broad white margins and tips. '* Length to end of tail, 14f inches ; to end of claws, 15$; extent of wings, 24; wing from flexure, 74; tail, 3i; bill along the back, 1^; along the edge of lower mandible,5l ^%: ; tarsus, 1 ^^; middle toe, l-j\; its claw, •jSj.; weight, 10 oz. " Adult Female. " The female wants the elongated crest, and differs greatly in colouring. 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 speculum is less extensive ; the 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, 22^; weight, 10 oz." — Audubon's Birds of America, *' Most writers on the ornithology of America have considered this bird as a variety of the European Teal. ) / 118 FIELD SPORTS. / All, however, 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 Ir.nated 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 European one has above each eye, having only one below : has over each shoulder a lunated bar.' The authors of the Northern Zoology observe, 'That the only permanent difference that we have been able to detect, after comparing a number of specimens, is that the English Teal has a white longi- tudinal band on the scapulars, which the other wants. All the specimens brought home by the Expedition, have a broad transverse bar on the shoulder, which 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 permanent and similar, I am certainly in- clined 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 markings of the females. " If the above observations are the means of directing farther attention to these points, they will have per- 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 description of the European Teal, by the ingenious and accurate Bewick, and comparing UPLAND SHOOTING. 119 them with the present, no difference whatever appears in the length, extent, colour, 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, marshes, and the reedy shores of creeks and rivers ; is very abundant among the rice plantations of the Southei:i States; flies in small parties, and feeds at night; associ- ates often with 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 excellent." — Wilson's Ornithological Biography. I have myself shot this bird repeatedly on both con- tinents — of Europe and America — and am very decidedly of opinion that the alleged two species are identical. I have killed male birds in England with the transverse bar, or my memory grossly deceives me; and most assuredly I have seen specimens here, since my atten- tion has been called to the point of distinction, wanting it. I fancy that the variation depends on the age of the individual birds. little )ecies irever, a,by faring THE WOOD DUCK— SUMMER DUCK. Anas Sponsa, "Male, 20^28. Female, 19|. " Breeds throughout the country from Texas to the Columbia, and Eastward to Nova Scotia; Fur Countries. Accumulates in the Southern Districts in winter. " Adult male. " Bill shorter than the head, deeper than broad at the base, depressed toward the end, slightly narrowed toward the middle of the unguis, the frontal angles 120 FIELD SPORTS. i prolonged and pointed. Upper mandible with the dor- sal 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 Umellee, unguis broadly elliptical, curved, rounded. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible flattish, with the angle very long and rather narrow, the dorsal line very short, convex, the sides convex, the edges soft and 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 depressed, 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, compressed, 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; secon- daries 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 edges of eye- lids bright red. Feet dull orange ; claws black. Upper part of the head, and space between the bill and the eye, deep green and highly glossed ; below the latter space a patch of dark purple, and a larger one of the same colour, but lighter. UPLAND SHOOTING. 121 secon- ^ength, ithers. Ilowish ridge Ind its Feet |d; and and dark ;hter, behind the eye ; sides of the neck, its hind parts under the crest and the middle all round, very di. purple. " A narrow line along the base of the upper mandible and over the eye, meeting on the occiput, very pure white, as are some of the feathers of the crest ; another from behind the eye, meeting below the occiput, and including several of the lower elongated feathers. Throat for more than three inches pure white, with a process on each side a little beyond the eye, and another nearly half way down the throat. Sides of the neck, and the lower part anteriorly, reddish-purple, each feather on the latter with a triangular white tip. Middle of the neck behind, back and rump, very dark reddish-brown, the latter deeper and tinged with green; upper tail coverts and tail greenish-black ; some of the lateral tail coverts dull reddish-purple, a few on either side with their filaments light red. Smaller wing coverts, alula, and primaries dull grayish-brown ; most of the latter, with part of their outer web, grayish-white, and their inner toward the tip darker and glossed with green. " Secondary quills tipped with white, the outer webs green, with purple reflections ; those of the inner secon- daries and scapulars velvet-black, their inner webs partially glossed, and changing to green. The broad feathers anterior to the wings are white, terminated with black; breast and abdomen grayish- white; feathers under the wings yellowish-gray, minutely undulated with black and white bars ; lower wing coverts and axillar features white, barred with grayish-brown; lower tail coverts dull grayish-brown. "Length, 20^ inches, to the end of claws, 17|; extent of wings, 28 ; bill, 1-f^ ; tarsus, 1-^^ ; middle toe and claw, 2^ ; wing from flexure, 9 ; tail 4^. " Adult female. '•'The female is considerably smaller, and difilers greatly from the male in colouring. The feathers of the head are not elongated, but those of the upper part of the neck are slightly so. In other respects the plumage presents nothing very remarkable, and is simi- I VOL. I. G 122 FIELD SPORTS. lar to that of the male, only the feathers anterior to the wing, the hypochondrial, the inner secondaries and the rump feathers, are not enlarged a. i.t him. " Bill blackish-brown; feet dusky, tinged with yellow. Upper part of the head dusky, glossed with green ; sides of the head and neck, and the hind part of the latter, light brownish-gray ; throat white, but without the lateral processes of the male. Forepart of the neck below, and sides, light yellowish-brown, mottled with dark grayish-brown, as are the sides under the wings ; breast and abdomen white, the former spotted with brown. Hind neck, back and rump, dark brown, glossed with green and purple. Wings as in the male, but the speculum less, and the secondaries externally faint reddish-purple; the velvet-bh ck of the male diminished to a few narrow markings. " Tail dark brown, glossed with green ; lower tail coverts pale grayish-brown, mottled with v/hite ; lower wing coverts as in the male. " Length, 19^ inches. " This beautiful species ranges over the whole extent of the United States, an 1 I have seen it in all parts from Louisiana to the conrines of Maine, 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 Massachussetts, and far up the warm spring waters of brooks on the Missouri. It confines itself, however, entirely to fresh water, prefer- ring at all times the secluded retreats of the ponds, bayous, or creeks, which occur so profusely in our woods. "The flight 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 •Ik extent .1 parts im the s my in the lorth I tract, some far up ri. It )refer- )onds, II our )r its it is jToods, Imuch loving UPLAND SHOOTING. from some secluded haunt to its breeding-grounds ut the approach of night, it shoots over the trees like a meteor, scarcely emitting any sound from its wings. '^ ** The Wood Duck breeds in tlie Middlo 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 Ken- tucky, where I have had better opportunities of studying their habits in this respect, they generally 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 the branches of a tree : they always seem to prefer the hollow, broken portion of some large marsh, the hole of our large Woodpecker, Picas 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 r. 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 portion of down, which I believe is mostly plucked from the breast of the female. They are perfectly smooth, nearly ellip- tical, of a light colour between buff 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 are 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, scram- ble to the mouth of the hole, launch into the air with G 2 i 124 FIELD SPORTS. their little wings and feet spread out, and drop into their favourite element ; but whenever their birth-place is at some distance from it, the mother carries them to it, one by one, in her bill, holding them so as not to injure their yfet tender frames. "Those which breed in Maine, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia, move southward as soon as the frosts commence, and none are known to spend the winter so far North. I have been much surprised to find Wilson speaking of the Wood Ducks as a species of which more than five or six individuals are seldom seen to- gether. A would-be naturalist in America, who has had bettci" opportunities of knowing its habits than the admired author of the ' American Ornithology,' repeats the same orror; and, I am told, believes that all his statements are considered true. For my own part, I have seen hundreds in a single flock, 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. Tn this case the female soon finds means of recalling her mate from the flock which he has joined." — Audubon's Birds of Ame- rica. 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 flocks. There is nothing which 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 cir- cu siti mo a s ton UPLAND ftHOOTINTQ. 125 cum stances, and to adapt their manners to the nP'*«s- sities 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 ])ositivc and general dicta, ascribing these habits inva- riably to this or that species, much confusion and incon- venience may be attributed. As an instance, I will merely state here, what I shall go into more largely hereafter, that the common Quail, Ortyx VirginianOy which is to the Westward distinctly a bird of passage, with easily defined habits of migration, eastward of the Delaware River is unquestionably sta- tionary ; and that from this undoubted fact, a question has arisen whether they were not two different species ; and, that hypothesis proved untenable, a doubt, among the less enlightened of Eastern sportsmen, whether the naturalists and travellers who 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 guarded against with care, and all conflicting statements, as made by candid and earnest inquirers, regarded with the utmost liberality and allowance ; which, 1 regret to say, is too seldom practised by naturalists, who frequently appear 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 water-fowl, of which I shall give a minute description as falling under the head of Upland Game, is the * 126 . FIELD SPORTS. \ ■ f \ .y •'-'■■ ' ' - ' : ■"- i , ' .; PINTAIL DUCK. ■' I! , r'-;.-! A •v^-^a a "W .^w « V 4» t, Anas Acuta; Wilson. Le Canard a Longue Queue; I Brissott, Vulgo, The Winter Duck, Sprigtail, Pigeon- tail, « Male 29.36. Female 22|.34. " From Texas throughout the interior to the Colum- bia River, and along the Atlantic coast to Maine, during the vinter, and early spring. Breeds in the Arctic regions. Abundant. '^ 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 with 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 lamellse ; unguis small, some- what triangular, curved abruptly at the broad end. Nostrils sub-basal, lateral, rather small, oval, pervious. Lower mandible flattish, its angle very long and narrow ; the dorsal line very short, slightly convex ; the sides convex j the edges soft, with about fifty lamellse. " Head of moderate size, compressed, 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 elon- gated. Wings narrow, of moderate length, acute ; the first quill longest, the second nearly equal, the rest UPLAND SHOOTING. 127 >f the elon- ; the rest rapidly graduated ; outer secondaries broad and rounded ; inner elongated and tapering, as are their coverts and the scapules; first quill serrated on tho 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 black ; 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 margined behind with purplish- red. A small part of hind neck dark-green ; the rest, and the upper parts in general, beautifully undulated with very narrow bars of brownish-black and yellowish- white. Smaller wing-coverts, alula and primary quills gray — the latter dark brown toward the end. Speculum of a coppery-red, changing to dull green; edged ante- riorly with light brownish-red ; posteriorly with white. The inner secondaries and the scapulars black and green, with broad gray margins. Upper tail-coverts cream- coloured, 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 colour are the under parts in general ; the sides, however, are undulated like the back; the lateral feathers of the rump cream-coloured ; 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, 2-^ ; along the edge of lower mandible, 2-j^; tarsus, 1^; middle toe with claw, 2^; wing from flexure, 11; tail, 5^; weight, 2lbs. ".; ■^-- ■ .-' *'■- .."^'^'J/ V -'■ - a:i.ii;.A " Adult Female. " The female, which is much smaller, has the upper parts variegated with brownish-black and light yel- lowish brown : the margin of the feathers and a mark on each side of the shaft being of the latter colour. The speculum is dusky green, margined behind with white. The primary quills grayish-brown. The lower parts are of a light brownish-yellow, the sides variegated with r, 128 FIELD SPORTS. brown ; the bill is black ; the iris brown ; the feet light bluish-gray. " Length, 22^ inches ; extent of wings, 34 ; weight, lib. 9 oz. " The first . observation that I made, on arriving at Labrador, was that no species of Ducks, excepting those which were entirely or chiefly oceanic, seemed to resort to that coast ; and I left the country with the same impression. We saw no Mallards, Teal, Widgeons, or Wood Ducks there, nor any species of Merganser, except the Red-breasted, which is a marine bird. The Pintail Duck, then, was not known in the parts of that country which I visited ; nor was it known in New- foundland, on the Magdeleine Islands, or in the British Province of Nova Scotia, at least along its Atlantic boundaries. In Kentucky, and the whole of the Western country, where it is extremely abundant in early autumn, during winter, and up to a very advanced period in spring, you meet with it wherever its usual food is to be found. It follows the waters of the Mississippi to New Orleans, is seen westward in the prairies of Oppe- lousas, and extends to the eastward as far as Massa- chusetts, beyond which, like the Mallard, it is very rarely seen. Indeed, this species is at all times rare on the sea-coast of the Atlantic, and must therefore be regarded as an inland bird. " The Pintail, which, in the United States, is better known by the name of Sprigtail, arrives on the Western waters early in October, sometimes even in Septem- ber; the period of its arrival depending on the state of the weather, or the appearance of other species with which it keeps company. Their plumage is in fine condition when they arrive; their tail feathers are then as long as at any other period, and the whole apparel of the adult bird is as perfect as in the breeding season. " Whilst with us, the Pintail is found in conpany 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 129 when their shores are overhung with beech-trees, loaded with their nutritious fruits, of which this species is extremely fond, and in search of which they even ramble a short distance into the woods. Were this Duck to feed entirely on beech-mast, I have no doubt that its flesh 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 avidity as by a Mallard. To these articles of food it adds insects of all kinds; and, in fact, is by no means an inexpert fly-catcher. "The Pintails are less shy in the Western country than most species of their family; and in this respect they resemble the Blue-winged Teals; which, in fact, might be called stupid birds, with as much propriety as many others. They swim rather deeply, keep close together, and raise the hind part of the body like the Mallards. On the water, on land, or on the wing, several may generally be killed at a shot. They are scarcely nocturnal, but rest much in the middle of the day; basking in the sunshine whilst on the water, when- ever they can indulge in this luxury. " The flight of the Pintails is very rapid, greatly pro- tracted, and almost noiseless. They remain at night in the ponds where they feed; and continue there gene- rally, 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 they arrive later, and retire sooner toward their breeding places, than in the country west of the Alleghany Mountains.*' — Audubon's Birds of America. This species, like the last, is seldom found, in the northern part of the Middle and Eastern States, in such large flocks, as it would appear to use in the west. It is often found solitary; and very seldom in my own experience, are more than three or four to be found in company. •■■'■ >'■•-- v ; v ■ i . - , • ^ G 3 130 FIELD SPORTS. 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 plumage, as late as the 12th of May. She rose, before a dead point from an old setter, out of a thick tuft of alders on a large marsh meadow. I could find no trace 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. The American Widgeon, Anas Americana, is occasionally found on fresh water, especially to the westward of the Ohio; but rarely frequents rivers, except on their estuaries and sandbars, where it asso- ciates more with the Fuligulce, or Sea Ducks, than with its immediate congeners. It is found on the Chesapeake with the Canvass-back, and is known as the "Bald-pate." .^ The Shoveller, 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 Rocky Mountains and in Texas. The Gadwall, Anas Strepera, is also found, though rarely, along the maritime districts of the States. In the interior, especially on the tributaries of the Ohio, Missouri, and Mississippi, it is said to abound. It is of solitary habits, rarely congregating in large bodies, and is, therefore, not generally known in the United States. Of the Sep. Ducks, the Golden-Eye, Fuligula Clangula, and the Buffel-Head, Fuligula Albeola, better known as the " Whistler,*' and the " Butter- Ball," are at times found on the fresh waters of the interior, but not in sufficient numbers to render it necessary to do more than r ame them, as it would be a most liberal courtesy which should extend to them the c o li bi se £ in ac na ■•.; )t.: UPLAND SHOOTING. 131 IS of )dies, [nited style of the 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 habits and territorial limits of every kind of Upland game being thus 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 commencement in the natural year. a. .\Y -, n-l beola, itter- |f the |er it be a the r I \\, UPTiAND SHOOTING OF THE EASTERN AND MIDDLE STATES, AND OF THE BRITISH PROVINCES. Upland 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 pro- priety into four different heads, commencing with the opening of spring, and terminating only with the termi- nation of the year. These heads are "Spring Snipe Shooting;" "Summer Cock Shooting;" "Upland Plover Shooting^' and "Autumn Shooting," 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 enumerated above, the Grouse and the Northern Hare alone excepted. A separate head must be given to Grouse shooting, — by which I mean Pinnated Grouse; since they are so nearly extinct in those districts in which alone Upland Shooting is practised scientifically 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 shooting, as it is; both established by law, and habitually practised, in those of the States in which only game is generally protected by statute; not as I think it should be. For it is my settled opinion that UPLAND SHOOTING. 133 Spring Snipe shooting and Summer Cock shooting are both abominations; and both humanity and policy for- bid the slaughter of these birds of passage, until they have finished rearing their young, and until those young have attained thei»' full growth. On this topic I shall enlarge hereafter, under the head of " Game Preserva- tion;" 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 like manner, I shall defer the observations, which I propose to make on the species, management, diseases, &c., of Sporting Dogs, and on the qualities and management of the Fowling-piece, and the art of shooting on the wing, until I have got through wh.. ': I have to say on Upland shooting generally. And here I will remark, once for all, in reply to a question which has already been propounded to me -everal times, since it has transpired that I am engaged on this work — " Whether any portion of it will be set apart especially for the instruction of young sports- men ?" — I am aware of nothing in the science of wood- craft more appropriate to be learned by the beginner, than another. There is no patent by which the skill may be acquired, no formula to be learned, after which all is plain and easy sailing. So soon as any person has acquired the power of bringing up his gun correctly on an object, and firing at once without dwelling on his aim, he is fit to take the field ; and after this, all the difference between the old and the young, the good and bad sportsman, natural qualifications which cannot be acquired alone excepted, is the amount of practice, and the extent of observation. He who most thoroughly understands the natural history, the instincts and the habits, both of the animals which he pursues and the animals which ^e uses as assistants in pursuit, will necessarily be the best sportsman ; and all that the best sporting writer can accomplish is to give a small number of facts on which to work ; and so to throw out many suggestions, which shall lead ihe sportsman into the 134 FIELD SPORTS. habit of thinking for himself, and seeing with his own eyes ; and above all, cause him to avoid regarding the smallest peculiarity he may observe in the field of nature unworthy of consideration. \ , f With regard to the art of shooting, a very few in- structions only can be given, and they can do but little toward the formation of a shot. Practice alone can make a good shot, even of one endowed with the greatest natural aptitude ; and, without the gift of natural apti- tude, no one can ever hope to be a crack shot on the wing. No one, however, who desires it, need despair of becoming, in something more than a moderate degree, a proficient in this beautiful art, since the intro- duction of the percussion system ; which has so greatly simplified the art, and diminished the difficulty of shooting on the wing, that it is a current remark now-a days, that "a bad shot in 1848 is a rarer thing to meet than a good one was in 1800." The same thing is in a less degree the case with the management of dogs in the field ; there are, it is true, general, aye, and particular rules, which may be laid down for the guidance of the hunter ; which rules, if strenuously put in practice, shall be in themselves all sufficient. But to this end practice is essential — prac- tice in learning when and how each rule is to be put in force ; practice in controlling impatience, in combating temper, in acquiring perfect coolness and complete self- command. No man may hope, let him know how to do so never so well, to govern his dogs, until he has learned first to govern himself. If I were asked to state what were the three things most necessary to the formation of the perfect sportsman, I think I should parody the reply of the great Athenian rhetorician, and reply, " Practice ! practice ! practice I" But of these things severally in their places: and now to the field for spring Snipe-shooting. ' Vi >&'^ . p . SPR.x^G SNIPE-SHOOTING. ^Of has to the |)uld The American Snipe — Scolopax Wilsonii — which is commonly known in this country as the English Snipe, but which is undoubtedly a distinct species, winters, as we have seen, in the Southern States, and yet southward of the most southern ; being rarely found in the winter northward, or in the summer southwTird, of the Carolinas. The great multitude breed far to the northward, not only of the United States, but of the British Provinces, in the vast marshy tracts which extend inland nearly to the Arctic Ocean. Many, however, make their nests and rear their young in the tjccluded morasses of Maine, Nova Scotia, and New Brunswick; and a few pairs, here and there throughout the Eastern and Middle States, becoming less frequent as they advance toward the South, so far probably as the north of Pennsyl- vania. In Western Canada, in the neighbourhood of Am- herstberg, they are likewise found during the breeding season, and probably on the southern verge of the Great Lakes likewise. •, j -• ,:, ';..,.• • They are, however, with us, from New Jersey east- ward, essentially a spring and autumn passing visitant ; and this is their character so far northward as Quebec. In New Brunswick and Nova Scotia they may perhaps be regarded as a summer resident ; though I am per- suaded that their numbers, even there, in the spring and autumn, will be found vastly to exceed the tale of those which remain and rear their young. Throughout the Southern and Western country they are, on the contrary, "winter residents. ,,. ^ ■^^^f_ Now the shooting of these birds in spring, as they 1.36 FIELD SPORTS. are either pairing here preparatory to breeding, or mov- ing northward preparatory to pairing, or even actually breeding — as is the case when they are shot in May — is precisely what it would be to shoot Woodcock in February, March, and April, or Quail so late as to the middle of May ; the destruction of the breeders, and consequent diminution of the number of the next year's young, being the same in both cases. The American Snipe lays four eggs ; the death, therefore, of every Snipe during spring shooting is equivalent to the death of five of these beautiful and sporting little birds. This, one would suppose, would be conclusive against the practice; but if he venture to break ground in favour of the abolition by the law qf this unfair, and I must think, unsportsmanlike practice, he is met and silenced by some such exquisite reason as this — that if spring Snipe-shooting were prohibited, we should have no spring shooting at all ; and the same exquisite reason is adduced against the only step which can save the Woodcock from extermination, I mean the abolition of summer cock-shooting. To return, however, to Snipe-shooting, as it is. So soon as the spring is fairly broken, and the frost — to use a common phrase — entirely out of the ground, the Snipe begins to appear upon our meadows. This breaking of the spring, and disappearance of the subter- ranean frost is, as is well known, very uncertain as regards the time of its occurrence. Sometimes, parti- cularly when the winter has been continuous and severe, spring comes upon us suddenly and remains permanent — with no cold squalls and nipping frosts intermediate — increasing still into perfect summer. At other times, most frequently when the winter has been uncertain, open and variable, and when the months of January and February have been, as was the case in 1843, unusually mild and genial, there is, as it were, no spring at all, winter lingering into the Itp of June. In the year above mentioned, the ground ivas white with snow in Philadelphia on the first of that month. UPLAND SHOOTING. 137 In the former of these two kinds of spring, the Snipe compose themselves for a long sojourn, lie well to the dog, grow very fat and lazy, and defer their departure till the weather becomes so warm and dry as to render their migration a matter of necessity. As an example of this, in the spring of 1836, I drove from New York into Orange county, on the 10th of April, in a sleigh, over deep snow ; and, within a week afterward, and thence up to the 10th of June, shot Snipe in abundance in New Jersey, both at Chatham and Pine Brook, on the Passaic. In the latter there is sometimes no spring shooting at all ; the birds merely alighting in whisps or small parties, from five to twenty in number, remaining a single day, and then off again Northward, with no tarrying. For several years, latterly, spring Snipe-shooting has been so indifferent, that few sportsmen have followed it, and that the markets have been badly supplied. The arrival, however, of the Snipe in New Jersey — in Southern New York there is little good Snipe-ground — varies from the 10th of March, which is the earliest date at which I have ever seen them plentiful on the Upland meadows, to the 15th of April. If they have not arrived at the latter of these dates, it may generally be taken for granted, that the year will have no spring Snipe-shooting. It must be observed, that obtaining great sport in spring Snipe-shooting must always, to those who do not reside immediately on the ground, be more or less a matter of good fortune j since it is not above once, in five or six years, that these birds come on and stay under such favourable circumstances, as cause them to settle, as it is termed, to the ground ; and, when this is not the case, successive flights arriving, tarrying for a few days and passing onward, it is very possible that a stranger, coming from a distance to shoot, will find the me' dows which were yesterday alive with Snipe, entirely deserted, and vice versd. 138 FIELD SPORTS. Still tliere are signs and tokens l)oth of the weather and of tlie animal creation — temperatures of the former and coincidences of the latter — by which the observant sportsman may come at conclusions, even at a distance from his ground, and seldom erroneously, 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 will enable one sports- man to fill his bag, while another on the same ground shall make up his mind in despair, that there are no Snipe on the meadows. There is no bird whose habits I have studitd 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 completely 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 south- ward, to Quebec, in the north ; and from the Niagara River to the country about Penobscot ; so that I have not been without opportunity 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 differing from so high an authority, that neither in this nor in any other of our migratory birds of Gani^ ' V there so much difference with regard to the time A t leir arrival and departure within the limits I have ij.twied, a Mr. Audubon would make. That eloquent writer and accurate observer, states the arriv*] o; this bird to be a month later, varying with the sea?. HI, in Maine than in Pennsylvania; and ten days lator yet ii Nova Scotia. Now I am atis£ed that, unless when the winter is extremely sLwrt and UPLAND SHOOTING. 189 spring unusually warm and early to the Westward, this discrepancy is greatly overrated. The average commencement of Snipe-shooting, even in Delaware, is not earlier, I am convinced, than the first of April ; and, except in uncommonly early sea- sons, they appear almost simultaneously in New Jersey and New York. Early in April, I have shot these birds in abundance close to the Falls of Niagara j early in April 1 have shot them in Maine ; and at the end of that same month, I have shot them on the upland pas- tures around Quebec. On average seasons, that is to say seasons in which the spring is everywhere late and backward, I have found by my own observation, that the arrival both of the Woodcock and of the Snipe is nearly simultaneous, from Pennsylvania to Maine, and I believe on inquiry 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 preservation, a matter of small importance ; for, from the moment of his arrival in each several locality, until that of his departure, he is inn ssantly persecuted and pursued ; and, as the Cfl'Jses of his arrival are the same in all places, so will, I .i^»?u ehend, 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 Canada, from placing the slightest reliance on the maxims, advice, or opinions promulgated, even in the best sporting books published in England concerning the Snipe, or its congener the Woodcock. The birds are in every respect different from the European species, as to their habits, haunts, and sea- sons ; 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 summer, birds of i 140 FIELD SPORTS. 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 truly, as regards the English Snipe, that the most favourable v/cather for the sport is dark, blowing, drizzling days — the very worst conceivable for our bird ; which is apt to be as wild as a Hawk in windy weather, while it will sometimes lie till it is difficult to kick it up, 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 warm 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 dissi- pated ; 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 uplands. In one instance, I remember finding 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 wa« 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 preparing 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 from 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. UPLAND SHOOTING. 141 On his first arrival, he generally hangs for two or three days in small whisps, or, oftener yet, scattered individually along the salt meadows on the coast, espe- cially in places where fresh springs boil up from the ground, or spring-brooks trickle down from the upland. At such times, a few straggling birds may be picked up on the south side of Long Island, where the trout- streams, below the pond-dams, overflow the salt mea- dows, before a solitary Snipe has appeared inland. 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 Paradise of the Snipe-shooter, especially about the last-named river. Here, if the weather is favourable and settled, they remain for many weeks; and may be pursued with much success and sport by the skilful sportsman, what- ever may be the nature of the day, unless it has been preceded by a very sharp frost. The most favourable time is, undoubtedly, the very first warm day after a long easterly rain-storm ; and, so thoroughly am I convinced of this fact, that for many seasons, whilst 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 pros- pect of clearing, before the rain had in the least abated. It has more thaii once happened to me, thus setting off late in the evening, while it was yet raining, to see the sky gradually clear up, and to hear the shrill squeak of the Snipe travelling 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 which can be spared 142 FIELD SPORTS. for shooting, proves wild, windy, and unfavourable ; yet the sportsman who has travelled 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, if 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 southerly wind abroad to dry the herbage and to give the dogs a chance of scent- ing their game. As the stranger cannot thus choose, it is most impor- tant 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 of ten, 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 very worst wea- ther I ever saw for Snipe shooting — dry, keen, cutting north-easters, with 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 couple of Snipe, besides a few Duck, in the course of three days. No great work, it is true, nor much to boast of; but, n»ark me now — during those same three days, two other gentlemen, as good shots as ourselves, perhaps better, beat the same meadows, putting up at the rival tavern, and hunting so exactly the same line of country with 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. I ad S oil e£ gi is I ST UPLAND SHOOTING. 143 It is, of course, unnecessary for us to tell any person acquainted with the first elements of Shooting, that the Snipe feeds, not on suction, but on small worms and other insects, which he collects by boring in moist earth with his long sensitive bill. His favourite feeding grounds are, therefore, soft, sloppy tracts, where the 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- coloured scum has been deposited, on their subsidence or evaporation, abounds with food of the kind they most relish ; and in such places 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 afford 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 de- scribed, interspersed with tussocky bogs and tufts of long grass, affording shelter to the birds, into which they will run, and among which they will skulk in ordi- nary weather, so soon as they discover the approach of intruders, the chance of sport will be very consi- derable. In cold, dry winds, however, the birds will not even feed, much less lie to the dog, on such ground ; and consequently we must in such weather look for them in very different 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 authorities 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 appear- ing to be necessary to enable him to get undei' 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. 144 FIELD SPORTS. ' if not, across wind, tack and tack, with extreme rapidity, and with a zig-zag flight, which renders them puzzling objects to a beginner. I think, however, that to a per- son accustomed to their motions, they are as easy a bird to kill as any that flies. Mr. Audubon states, in allu^ sion to this supposed difticulty of killing Snipe, that he who can kill thirty in succession, without missing one, is a good hand at any kind vi 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 otl er bird that flies, in succession. I have seen many crack shots in my life, both here and in England ; but I never saw the man, and never expect to see him, who, shoot- ing at every bird that rises in distance, can kill four out of five under the mojt favourable circumstances, day in and day out. He 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. r Some men may perhaps kill twenty shots in succes- sion, picked out of fifty birds which ought to have been shot at ; but my word for it, they will get easily baaten by the man who pretends to no such feat, but who pulls his trigger, whenever th 3re is a chance of killing. The real test of shooting, no less than of sportsman- ship, is the finding and bagging 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 ai: every- thing that rises within distance, remembering always, as an old Yorkshire gamekeeper, 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, " better luck next time," and endeavour to observe and remem- ber how and why you missed him ; whether y u shot UPLAND SHC^TING. 145 above, below, or to the right or left of him ; this will give you steadiness and coolness at first ; and, when you succeed in remembering, will have done much al- ready toward preventing you from missing fair shots at least. For th« 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 — more- over, the steadiest nerves will sometimes be shakcii 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 does not pre- tend to kill quite three out of five, year in and year out ; but who is wont to say, which is very wrong 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 be- ginner. Good shots have killed twenty shots in succession ; perhaps more, even in thick covert ; but that is a very different thing from saying can kill them. That, I am satisfied no man ever did, or ever will do. This, though applicable especially to Snipe, is true of all sorts of Game. After the observation, which has led to this little digression, Mr. Audubon remarks that he hits found 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 hira ; 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 instan- taneous point of time in which he hangs on the wind — that is to say, to pull 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 yards' distance ; but all that stuff", like taking a pinch of snuff* after a bird rises and before raising the gun, was well enough VOL. I. ft \ 146 FIELD SPORTS. for the days of long, single-barrelled guns with flint locks. A good shot of the present day would knock over his dozen couple of right and left shots — not in succession, gentle reader — while one of those slow coaches was painfully picking up his half dozen. Cceteris paribus, 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 believe, nine times out of ten, as many birds, perhaps more, could be bagged without a dog at all ; or with a Newfoundland or Water Spaniel, kept entirely at heel, and only used 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 indus- trious, and best broken — Setters, for my use, seeing that I pi'efer them for all purposes; but Pointers, if you will. If they be staunch, and have good noses, and back well, and drop to shot, where they are, without stirring from the spot, and without being shouted at, they cannot be too fast; and, if they will not do these things, it matters not whether they be fast or slow — they are worthless. The most efiective-sized shot for Snipe-shooting is unquestionably No. 8. With courser shot, the charge will be so much dispersed that so small a bird as the Snipe will constantly escape being hit, even when covered fairly; with smaller, birds will continually be wounded only, within point blank distance; and will frequently go away entirely unharmed. Farther than this, it is very rare to find a lever-topped belt or flask — which is by far the best implement for carrying shot — that will not suff'er any shot smaller than No. 8 to escape, even when the spring is down. Many English writers, T observe, recommend the use of two diffieren'c sized kind of shot, one in either barrel ; UPLAND SHOOTING. 147 an as use Irrel ; but this is, in my opinion, neither sportsmanlike nor effective. In all events, the barrels of a gun ought to be fired alternately; otherwise, as five single shots are fired for one double, one barrel will be worn out while the other is, comparatively speaking, new. My own experience has taught me that for all our Upland shoot- ing, except that of the Pinnated Grouse, at all seasons of the year. No. 8 is the most effective shot. It will break the pinion of a Ruffed Grouse 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 target thoroughly at the same distance. All that is gained in weight and power by the use of larger shot, is lost in the condensation of a charge. This will be easily understood when the reader is informed 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 favour of hitting a small mark with No. 8 over the larger shot; the greater the distance, the greater the advantage in this respect of the smaller pellets ; inasmuch as all shot are propelled on diverging lines; and consequently, the longer the range the greater will be the interval between the grains. When birds are very wild, however, I strongly recom- mend the use of Eiey's wire cartridges, of the same No. 8 shot, which I consider an invention in gunnery second only to percussion. I will state here briefly, for the benefit of those who have not seen this missile, that the object of the contrivance is to propel the charge, like a single ball, for some fifteen or more yards from the afun's muzzle. After this distance the case bursts, and the shot diverges as in an ordinary charge. The gain, therefore, in distance, is precisely that to which the case is driven unbroken. This differs in the three different kinds of cartridges, blue, red, and green. The last of these must never be used, except in fowl-shoot- ing on the bays, as the range is prodigious, and on H 2 148 FIELD SPORTS. Upland dangerous. The Idue, which is the common kind, will increase the range of every gun, in closeness as in strength, from fifteen to twenty yards ; and the red from twenty to forty. The more heavily you charge with powder, the more closely will the cartridge carry j. the converse of this proposition being true of loose shot. It is u , ?less, however for any person to use Eley^s cartridge, who is not cool enough to let a bird, which gets up under his 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 Snipe, when very wild, and Quail in open ground, very late in the season, with blue cartridges in my first, and red in my second barrel, and that with great success. I would, however, prefer the use of loose shot and a blue cartridge. With regard to dress, it may be well here to say a word or two ; for Snipe 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 part, I have never found any contrivance succeed in keeping the feet dry; for a single fall, or heavy splash, things of common occurence, will fill the tops of the longest and most secure water-proof boots ; Indian rubber is an abomination ; as, if it excludes water, it also excludes air, prevents ventilation, and enclosing all the exudations and transpirations of the pores, is equally uncomfortable, unwholesome, and filthy. The moment boots are full of water, they are a dead weight, and of course a disadvantage ; I have, therefore, in all ordinary ground, long abandoned the attempt to keep dry; and invariably use laced ancle boots of heavy cowhide, for all sorts of sporting. These may be worn either with short gaiters and trousers; or, what I consider in every particular 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 149 3ry ley jrn lay be made of corduroy or fustian for spring and winter, of duck or drilling for summer shooting ; and, if made long and loose from the hip to the knee, I believe 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 endeavouring 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 equally well-made, would cost him double the price, in New York. I will here, farther state, that Mr. Cullen, No. 119, Broadway, New York, is the only workman on thip side the Atlantic, whom I know, that can turn out a real working shoot- ing-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 believe me, as in many other cases, ce n'est que le premier pas qui coUtef 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 water-logged jack-boots will make a difference in favour of your comforts, that words can hardly describe. About a shooting-jacket, I have only to say that it cannot be too easy, or have too many pockets. For material, every man has his own fancy ; I prefer strong corduroy for winter, and drilling or Russia duck for summer. Game-pockets filling the 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 shooting 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 150 FIELD SPORTS. r ' leggings, soft, is currier's dubbing, which can be pro- cured of any tanner. The best water-dressing is equal parts of tar, tallow, and Venice turpentine, melted together in an earthen pipkin, 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 superior to fire-heat for the drying of wet 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 equipped with all things necessary for our sport, we will take the field ; and supposing the morn- ing to be favourable, with a light breeze from the south- westward, the sky sunny, yet shadowed by floating clouds, the herbage underfoot dry, but the soil moist and succulent, we may make sure of sport. In the first place we will begin to beat, and persist in beating our ground down-ivind, even if we have to make a large and tedious circuit in order to do so. The advantage of this, arising from the habit of the Snipe, before mentioned, of rising invariably up-wind, is that the wiH birds will be compelled to cross us to the right or left, affording much closer and easier shots, than if we hunt them in ordinary manner. I am aware that there is an objection to this, in the fact that the dogs in some degree lose the favour of the wind ; but dogs properly broken to this sport, should quarter their ground regularly before you, working with their noses up-wind, and crossing and recrossing at every forty or fifty yards, and will find no difficulty 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 requarter their UPLAND SHOOTING. 151 'ight ground, turning to the slightest whistle, and following the least gesture of the hand. I have 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 diffi- culty 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, and not by his own, that he is to beat his ground, it is extraordinary 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 decla- ring my conviction, that by working down-wind^ espe- cially in very wild and very windy weather, when birds lie the worst, one-third more shots may be got, and double 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 have your dogs conti- nually 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 ziz-zagging it away up-wind, at a rate which sets even your blue cartridge at defiance. Beating down-wind, on the contrary, the birds, headed by you'-self and your dog, are likely enough to get confused and bothered, and to lie hard ; and even if your setter or pointer do run in upon two or three, in a day's shooting, the odds are, as Snipe-shooting is always more or less snap shooting, that you will get a long cross shot at these, and perhaps bag them ; and, at all events, for every bird you lose thus, you will lose four which will whistle away unshot at, dead in the wina s eye, if you beat up-wind. I had once an actual trial of this kind accidentally, and on my part unconsciously, with a rather famous English dog-breaker and market shooter, on the Big 152 FIELD SPORTS. Piece, a superb and very extensive tract of Snipe- meadow, just above the Little Falls, on the Passaic, the result of which I will mention as tending to exem- plify the fact I have been insisting on. I did not at the time know this fellow, though subse- quently I have known him to my cost ; though I after- wards heard that he was acquainted with my person, and had made some small bet or other on beating my bag; which, but for his want of knowledge on this point, he would have done, for I believe he is a bet- ter shot, and he had decidedly better dogs than 1 on that day, the best of which became mine in con^ sequence. It was a very wild morning indeed, early in April, the wind blowing almost a gale from the westward ; and immediately on entering the meadow, I perceived a man ^in a black velveteen jacket, with three very fine dogs, one the red setter I have named before, beating up-wind at some three hundred yards* distant. I set to work after my own way, and so we persevered all day long, he beating up and I down-yimA, often within a hundred yards' distance. There were a great many birds on the ground, and I had very fair shooting, get- ting at least three shots to his two, and those much fairer shots ; in proof of which I may observe, that I killed three or four double shots during the day, while he did not fire one. At about four in the afternoon we parted company, not having interchanged speech, and I thought no more about him until I returned to mine inn, when I learned that D had called to inquire how many birds I had killed, and expressed his wonder that a person who, as he was flattering enough to say, did know something about shooting, should be such a flat as to shoot Snipe down-wind. In the evening he came into the bar-room, and there found, first of all, that I had beaten him by some half-dozen birds, which he said he expected ; and, secondly, that it was for a reason, and not for want of one, that I shot Snipe down-wind. He admitted at once, that he saw through- UPLAND SHOOTING. 153 out the day that I was getting more and better shots than he, whereat he marvelled* seeing he knew himself better dogged than I ; but that he still marvelled why I should shoot down-wind. He was, however, open to conviction, and was perhaps not sorry at having a rea- son to give for being beaten. Double shots at Snipe are by no means uncommon — commoner I think than at any other species of game — for although, as a general rule, the Snipe is a solitary bird, both in his habits of flight and feeding, and acts independently of his neighbcirs, you will usually find numbers of them feeding nearly together, and rising nearly at the same time, because alarined by the same sound. Under these circumstances, however, they do not usually fly oif together, like a bevy of i, ail, or a plump of wild fowl, but scatter each at h' j own will. Now as the wildest birds always sp inqj first, it of on happens that your discharge, at a Ion,/; sh.^t, often flushes another much nearer by; I therefore strongly urge it on beginners to be a little patient, and not to blaze away both barrels in succession at the same bird, or even at two birds, nearly out of distance, since by doing so they will very often lose a good chance of bagging a bird close at hand. It is, moreover, a very absurd and unsportsmanlike practice to fire at Snipe out of shot, yet it is a very common one. The Snipe is a very small bird, and offers, prrticularly when fly;i«;j directly from the shooter, an inconceivably small target. It is not possible that one can be killed, with anything like certainty, at above fifty yards, — I name an extreme limit. Now, in ordi- nary weather, the odds are about three to one, that a bird flushed, and not uselessly shot at, at this distance, will alight again within three or four hundred yards, or upward, and perhaps afford a good chance, and lie to a point. But blaze at him, and perhaps sting him with a stray shot, and he shall fly you a mile at a stretch ; besides that, your shot has disturbed the meadow, and perhaps flushed half-a-dozen others. Let it not be sup- h3 154 FIELD SPORTS. posd, however, that I would inculcate slow and poking shooting ; on the contrary, I abhor it. The most unsportsmanlike thing that a man can do, in this line, is nut to fire at a bird when there is a res- sonable (jhance of killing it ; the next, is to fire at a bird when there is not a reasonable chance of killing it. Snipe-shooting being practised ninety-nine times out of a hundred in perfectly open ground, the birds can be marked by an experienced hand at the work, to a great distance, and to a great nicety. But there is a good deal of knack in it; and I hardly ever saw a countryman, who did not shoot, who did mark even decently. An ordinary observer, when he loses sight of a bird flying low, is apt to suppose he has stopped at the point where he last saw him, a conclusion than which nothing can be more erroneous. Every bird has his own fashion of alighting from the wing, and that of the Snipe and Woodcock is very peculiar ; they both jerk themselves a little way up into the air, make a short turn, and pitch down backward. Once noticed this motion cannot be mistaken ; and once made, you may be sure that the bird has dropped. All that remains to be done is to mark the place, so as to find it again, which in an expanse of open pasture or meadow land, waving with even grass, or covered with tufts of rushes, each one precisely like its neighbour, is far from an easy matter. The better way is to raise the eye slowly from the spot toward the horizon — in case the ground is quite devoid of any near landmark of stump, bush, pool, or the like — where you will be nearly sure to find some tree, building, hill-top, or other eminent object, which you may bring into one line with your bird, after which you will have no difficulty in finding him. In marking dead birds within a near range, you should ever endeavour to fix the very leaf, or bunch of grass, on which it has fallen ; and I have found it a good plan, on stepping up after loading to look for your game, to drop your hat or handkerchief, on that I \ UPLAND SHOOTING. 155 which you conceive to be the exact spot; otherwise, while looking round among the grass, it is not uncom- mon to lose the direction altogether. In covert shoot- ing, in marking a bird, whether shot or not, which flies behind a brake, impervious to the sight, cast your eye quickly forward to the next opening, a little above the line of the bird's flight, if he is rising, or below if drop- ping 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 feathers 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 throw him many feet forward of the spot where the shot smote him. The 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 invariably rises again. Neither he nor his congener, the Woodcock, is in the habit — so common with the Quail, and sometimes with the Ruffed Grouse — of flying away with his death-wound, and dying ])efore he falls. A Quail or Grouse, shot through the heart, or through the brain, will constantly tower, as it is termed, directly up into the mid-air, with a perpen- dicular flight, and quick beating of the wings, which are kept up till the 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 carefully, and appioach the spot stealthily, — it is all a toss-up whether he lies like a stor.e, or whirls up at sixty paces, when he hears you coming. But how- ever hard he may lie, never relax your watchfulness, or put your gun under your arm, or over your shoulder, till he is bagged. I have seen a crippled bird marked ii! 156 FIELD SPORTS. to a square yard, get away, owing to the conviction of the pursuers that he was dead, after the ground had been 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 provoking than such a con- summation. For Snipe-shooting, the most effective party that I can conceive will consist of two men, provided that they are sufficiently well acquainted each with the other's style of shooting and hunting dogs, to work well together, — and two dogs, both belonging to and hunted by one man. In this case the sportsmen can hunt their dogs alternate days, he whose turn it is not to hunt, carefully abstain- ing from uttering a word, or making a gesture to the dogs. This, of course, can be only done by two old sports- men, who know each the other's style of sporting, 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 live together, will do twice as muchf and five times as ^oorf 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, consequently, no two strange dogs, hunted by two different strange men, can or will work harmoniously together. If each man insists on hunting his own dog each day, the men will have better 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 guns, for Snipe-shooting, by far 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 for- ward, — but not 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 157 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 charging ; that one insists his dog pointing his dead birds before fetching on them ; another suffers his to go on and fetch as soon as he has loaded ; and yet a third takes no heed at all, but suffers his brute to rush in as soon as the gun is discharged. The last is, of course, a barbarism, to which no one worthy of being called a sportsman will resort ; the others are still held to be mooted points ; and there 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 does not point his dead game until desired to "fetch." Still, so long as diversity of opinion exists on these points, and dogs are broken according to the good or bad judgment of owners and breakers, different 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 cartridges of No. 1 or No. 2 shot, — Colonel Hawker observing of these missiles, " that for a wild open country, or shooting by day at wild fowl, he cannot say too much in their favour in their present improved state." It is scarcely necessary to state here, that when two persons are shooting in company, neither must on any w ** 158 FIELD SPORTS. account think of firing at a bird which, however fairly it may rise to himself, flies across his companion. Each sportsman should take the bird which flies outwardly from the common centre ; by doing which he will not only avoid the incivility of shooting across his friend's face, but will, in the long run, bring many more birds to bar;; for, without some such understanding, both charges will constantly be delivered into one bird, while otheis ar3 going away unshot at. I?; is a most uncourteous and < lownish fashion, that of shooting across a companion's face, if committed from ignorance only, or carelessness, — if done from jealousy, and a grasping desire of making a larger bag, it is unpardonable and ungentleman-like. A fellow who would do it, should be sent at once, nem. con.^ to Coventry. The genuine sportsman will always give, rather than take ; and, even in the case of single birds flying for- ward in a direct line before two guns, the shot should always be yielded, especially by the person who hunts the dogs, and who may be in some sort regarded as at home, and therefore bound to do the honours to his comrade. When two persons shoot much together, it is well to take such shots alternately : and there is another advantage gained by this, as there is by the practice of all punctilios in sporting, that it tends to promote equanimity and coolness, without which nothing great can be effected in this line. So long as the weather holds fair, and the birds lie well to the dog, there remains, I believe, no more to be said on the subject. But it must be observed, that in wild, windy weather, early in the season, if we know that there are birds on the range, that they have been killed on the meadows in numl^ers, and for successive days, a»d that there have been no heavy frosts to banish them from the districft, they will be found, as I have before hinted, in haunts altogether different from their usual feeding-ground. So soon, therefore, as it is TX-: *> UPLAND SHOOTING. 159 evident that they are not to be found at all, or in any- thing like adequate numbers, on the meadows, it is advisable to turn your attention instantly to the skirts CI the nearest woodlands, under sheltered lee-sides of young plantations, among willow, alder, and briar brakes, and, in short, wherever there is good soft springy feeding-ground, perfectly sheltered, and pro- tected from the wind by trees or shrubbery. I first observed this habit of the American Snipe, which is utterly at variance with the habit of its Euro- pean congener, at the English Neighbourhood, on the Hackensack River, Wiiere, by mere accident, I stumbled on a number of birds in the cow-paths, among thick brushwood, far above the salt meadows, toward the Upland. I next found them in similar ground on a very wild day, at the end of March, or the beginning of April, on the Long Meadow at Pine Brook. On that occasion the birds were all busily employed in drum- ming, — a habit of the Snipe, as it is generally stated by naturalists, during the breeding-season. I have myself, however, never witnessed it, except immediately on their arrival in this district, long before they had even begun to pair. The habit is, however, clearly connected with their nuptial and vernal propensities, r.nd probably continues from the commencement of their sexual inter- course to the iiiid of their incubation. It is performed, I believe, solely by the male bird, which rises in the air till hfc is almost out of sight, where he disports him for hours in mid ether, sailing round and round m small circles, and at times letting himself fall, fifty feet or more, plumb down, before he again sails on his wing. It is during these perpendicular descents, that this strange, powerful, and musical hum is uttered ; it is comparable to no other sound that I can name, and must be heard to be conceived. It is very pleasing and sonorous, and may be distinguished at a great distance. Once heard, it can be mistaken for no other noise, made by either bird or beast ; nor will the sportsman be apt to forget it, as it is to him strangely ill-omened j 160 FIELD SPORTS. for, while it is going on, birds will rarely or never suffer themselves to be approached within gunshot, — rising as soon as flushed, spirally into the air, each seeming to call up another by the sound, and sporting together aloft, '^whirlitig round each otber;" to l^orrosf the elo- quent language of Mr. Audubon, ^' \v jth extrem? v dooity, and da.icing as it were to their own music; i'ov -\t this j'.ncturc, and durir:g the- spac; oi live oi six .ti-autes, you hear rolling notes mim^ling l!igether, each ?nore or less distiiict, perhaps- accordii^ to the state of the atmo- sphervi." I was surprised to find that Mr. Audubon acre states his doubts, .vhether this sound is procluced by the feathers of the wing, — or rather, almc!-c asserts his conviction that it is vantriloquons. 1 have lain on the t'lrf for hours, watching them when in this mood, and when all farther attempt at pursuit of them would have ' een useless, and have observed their motions with a good glass. I am myself s;ilisfied that the sound is produced by the fact, that the bird, by some muscular action or other, turns the quill-feathers edgewise, as he drops plumb through the air; and that, while in this position, during his accelerated descent, the vibration of the feathers, and the passage of the air between them, gives utterance to this wild humming sound. Such likewise is the account given by European naturalists of the same sound which is produced by the Snipe there at the same vernal period ; they mention, moreover, a peculiar cry of the male bird at this season, different from his shrill squeak, on being flushed, which is precisely identical in the American and European species — this they describe as resembling the word " Peet," thrice repeated in a shrill whistle. Tiiis I never have noticed in the American birds ; but, on two different occasions, when the birds were at the very wildest, drumming away for hours at a stretch, and not giving even a chance of a shot, I have observed another cry, which I cannot find recorded either by Wilson or Audubon, any more than the practice, by which it is UPLAND SHOOTING. 161 accompanied, of alighting on fences, stumps, and even on tall tree-tops. This cry is a sharp, reiterated chatter, consisting of a quick, jarring repetition of the syllable, kek-kek-kek- kek-kek, many times in succession, with a rising and falling inflection, like that of a hen which has just laid an egg. This singular sound is uttered as the bird is descending from its gyrations and musical performances ; and, after having descended, while it is skimming low over the surface of th>^ bog meadows, previous to alight- ing. While in this humour, I have never seen them alight directly into the grass, but have invariably ob- served them to settle first on the stump of a dead tree, or on a rail fence, and thereafter drop into the rushes. On both of these occasions, the birds lighted many times on the very topmost branches of the willows, and other trees, which lined the fences ; and on one occa- sion, I saw a Snipe take flight from a branch, rise upward, and resume his drumming, without first return- ing to the level ground. On the day when I first witnessed these perform- ances, which astonished me, I confess, little lefis than it would have done had they begun to sing " God su e the King," or " Hail ! Columbia," which would per- haps have been more appropriate — I observed that when, at length, they ceased drumming, which they did as the day grew hotter, they all flew off in one direction, toward some meadows overrun with brakes, cat-briars, brambles, and thorn-bushes; and herein I had good sport with them for several hours, after having despaired, in the morning, of getting a shot at all. Since that time I have repeatedly found them in similar ground at Chatham, yet higher up on the course of the Passaic, where there is a great deal of covert of that particular nature — low stunted bushes, and briar patches, growing in boggy, springy ground. So notori- ously is it the case that Snipe, on their first coming, thei'e frequent such localities, whenever the weather is not more than commonly warm and genial, that it is 162 FIELD SPORTS. the habit of many old sportsmen to beat for them regularly in such places, without trying the meadows at all, on their first arrival. I have killed hundreds of couples in such places ; and have put up scores, at a small enumeration, of Woodcock, then sitting on their eggs, from the self-same coverts at the same time. Indeed, the same brakes, a little later in the season, afford ihe very best cock-shooting. Once, and once only, at the same place, Chatham, during a snow-squall, I shot several couple of Snipe in a very thick piece of swampy woodland, among tall timber-trees with heavy undercovert — precisely what one would call admirable summer Cock-ground — the Snipe flew in and out of the brakes, and thridded the branches, as rapidly as Quail or Cock would have done, in similar thickets. What has happened once, especialy in the ways of animals, is like to occur again ; and I should not hesi- tate, when there was no tract of low springy underwood near at hand to Snipe meadows, to beat high wet wood- lands for this bird, during the permanence of cold storms and violent winds, sufficient to drive them from the open fields. At all events, let the sportsman remember that in the Middle and Eastern Strtos, bushy ground, briar-patches, alder and willow brak»is, and the like, are as regular haunts of Snipe in spring, as bog tussocks or marsh meadows ; and ^hat there is no more propriety in his omitting to try such ground for them, than there would be in neglecting to beat thickets and dingles for Quail, because they ordinarily feed on stubbles. While I am mentioning the peculiar habits of the American Snipe, such more particularly as it is not generally known to poss* s, I may observe, that although not web-footed, or even semi-palmated, this little bird swims rapidly and boldly. I was previously aware that, on falling wing-tipped into the water, it was able to support itself, and even to struggle away from a dog ; but I had no idea that it would take the water of its own accord, till I was a witness to the fact under rather singular circumstances. UPLAND SHOOTING. 163 I was standing still, loading my gun, both barrels of which I had just discharged, on the brink of a broad spring-fed ditch which runs along the lower side of the Long Meadow, when a bird, flushed by a friend at some distance, flew over my head and dropped within ten feet of me, on a spot of bare black soil, between two or three large grassy tussocks, and the ditch. I had never, at thui, time, observed the natural motions of the Snipe, when unalarmed ; and 1 stood watching him for some tiiae as he walked gracefully to and fro, and stooped down once or twice and bored in the mud, bringing up each time a small red angle-worm in his bill, utterly unconscious of my presence. After a minute or two, he deliberately entered the ditch, and oared himself across it, as easily and far more gracefully than any water-fowl could have done. I have since regretted that I did not show myself at this moment, in order that I might have ascertained whether it possessed the power of taking wing^from the surface of the water, which I am greatly inclined to doubt. I was well aware previously of the fact, that many of the Shore-birds and Sandpipers swim on emer- gency, but I little suspected the Snipe of possessing the like power. I know not that the being acquainted with this habit of the Spine can materially aid the sportsman • but, in case of dogs drawing on the trail of birds, which had run and fed, up to a brook-side, or on the foot of a wing-tipped bird, I should now certainly try forward, across the water, which I should not previously have done. The peculiarities of cry, flight, and perching, which I have related above, are well known to many of our sportsmen here ; and I can readily produce half-a-dozen witnesses to the various facts I have stated, within a dozen miles of the room in which I am now writing ; as well as to the bird's occasional habit of resorting to the interior of woods, which Mr. Audubon positively asserts that he never does. ,./}.....C 1G4 FIELD SPORTS. By the way, since penning the a])ovc, it just strikes me that in the Sjjring of 1840, wlien the snow was not entirely ofV the Uplands, in shooting with a friend from Quehec, we moved three Snipe from a little piece of white-birch Ivoodland, one of which was shot by my companion, and retrieved by my setter in the bushes, and a second of which I killed over a point in the next field, not very far from Lorette. I am inclined to believe all these habits to be purely local, as concerns the American bird. Not local, owing to any peculiar circumstances of the place, but of the seasons in which the bird visits or frequents the places. In other words, I i^uppose them all to be connected with the amorous and sexual intercourse of the birds, and to commence and terminate with the breeding-season. In the summer, when I have shot a few young birds during Cock-shooting, and in the autumn when I have killed five times as many as I have in spring, I never heard any cry from the Snipe except the regular " scaipe ;" nor have I ever seen it manifest the slightest inclination to alight on fence, rail, log, or tree. I there- fore suppose these habits to be, like drumming, peculiar to the season, and analogous to the circling and strut- ting of Doves, the fantailing of Peacocks, and the like. I should be curious to learn, however, from my Southern friends, who kill them during the winter in far greater numbers on their Georgia and Carolina rice-fields than we can pretend to do on our barren bog meadows, whether they are ever known there either to take to woodland coverts, or to tree. The English Snipe, I am certain, never does either, both from my own experience, and from the observation of many older and better sportsmen than myself. I have shot the English bird constantly, and for several successive springs, in the fens of Cambridge and Norfolk ; and I have heard him drum there more fre- quently than I have here, but I never heard him chatter, or saw him take the tree ; and I am certain that he never does so. Ul'LAND SHOOTING. 165 Hows, te to While spi .;ig on this subject I must observe, again respectfully (UlFering from Mr. Audubon, who asserts tliat " there is as great a difference between the notes of the English and American species of Snipe, as there is ])etvveen the American Crow and the Carrion Crow of Europe," that in my opinion the cry of the two Snipes \h perfectly identical; and in this view I am corrobo- rated by the judgment of several English sportsmen, with whom I have habitually shot for many seasons here, and who, like myself, hud killed hundreds of couples of Snipes, before visiting America. The num- ber of feathers in the tail of the European and American species differs ; and 1 am nearly certain that the English bird is somewhat larger and heavier — Wilson, who first distinguished the two species, notices the difl'erence in size — but otherwise in appearance, and in all their ordinary habits, they are identical. I lay, however, great stress on the difference of note in the oreeding- season, and in the other peculiarities alluded to, as setting the question of variety on a much broader and more distinct base than the distinction between sixteen and fourteen tail-feathers, and an inch more or less in length. Until I saw the American Snipe perch on tall trees, and heard them cackle like laying Pullets, I regarded the difference between the species as merely nominal. Every day since that time I have more clearly discerned its realitv ; and have in consequence learned to look for them, and find them too, where I should as soon. have a Snipe, in thought of hunting for an Ostrii;i> as for England. With re<£ard to the habits of the bird in summer, I know little ; but that little is enough to enable me to say that they are in no wise different from his autumnal customs. The Snipe returns to Lower Canada, from the northward, with the young birds full fledged in July, and is at that time, and until driven away by the frost, shot in immense numbers on the marshes at Chateau Richer, at Goose Island, and hundreds of other places down the IfiG FIELD SPORTS. St. Lawrence. Along both sh.r'V' of the Great Nor- thern Lakes they ul)oun(l, at ihe same time, or a little later; and accordingly as the seas(,n sets in early or late, so do they regulate their arrival with, and departure from, us. \ The earliest period at which I have ever killed migra- tory Snipe, birds I mean not bred here, is the 12th of September; when, in 1812, I bagged fourteen couple and a-half in a deep bog-meadow at Chatham. The latest day on which I have shot them is the J)th of November, at Fine Brook. I have been assured, how- ever, by an excellent sportsman, on whose word I can fully rely, that he has killed them on a spring brook, in which the water never freezes in the hardest weather, daily, until the 19th of December. This was in Orange county, moreover, where the frost sets in at least a fortnight earlier than it docs below the Highlands of the Hudson. The same gentlomun, some years since, killed thirty-five Woodcock on the 13th day of December ; a circumstance, so far as my knowledge goes, unparalleled in this region. There is, however, no possible doubt of the fact ; as being himself aware of its strangeness, he took unusual pains to verify it by sufficient evidence. There had been, if I do not err, a very early full of snow, succeeded by hard frosts early in November, and after that, uncommonly mild and open weather. In autumn Snipe-shooting there is nothing to be observed, except that the birds are more composed and less restlesj than in the spring ; that, unless persecuted and driven from the ground by incessant shooting, they linger on the same meadows, until the coldness of the weather compels them to travel southward ; that they lie much better to the dog, allowing themselves to be pointed steadily, and rarely flushing out of fair distance ; and, to conclude, that they are much fatter, much larger, much easier to ki , and much better eating than in the spring season. I have never seen them in bushy ground, or even among briars, in the autumn, UPLAND SHOOTING. 167 though I cannot state that they never take to such places. Mr. Auduhon states the .weight of the American Snipe at 3 oz. The average weiglit of the EngUsh species is 4 oz. I never hut once weighed any American hirds. I was then struck ])y tlieir apparently unusual size ; when I weighed twenty-five together at the tavern at Pine Brook, and they averaged within a small frac- tion of 5 oz. each. The Snipe is delicious eating, inferior to no bird that flies, save the Upland Plover, and the Canvass-back Duck. Like all birds that feed on, or near the water, he must be eaten fresh. A true gastronomer abhors Woodcock, Snipe, or Wild Fowl, in the slightest degree high. Gallinaceous game are the better for keeping, wild fowls and waders are ruined by it. If possible they should be eaten within twenty-four hours after being killed. They should be carefully picked by hand, on no account drawn — that is a practice worthy of an Esqui- maux, as that of splitch-cocking and broiling them — the neck should be bent downward, and ^the bill run transversely through the body, immediately below the pinions ; one leg thrust through the sinew of the other thigh — they should be roasted, at the outside^ ten minutes before a very quick, brisk fire ; with no condi- ment, or butter — a thin slice of crisp buttered toast should be laid under them while cooking, to catch the gravy and trail, if it chance to fall out ; and this is to be served up under them, when dished for the table. Any made gravy or sauce is an abomination ; and the prac- tice of blanketing the birds while roasting in slips of fat bacon should be held the death-warrant of any cook, in a well-regulated family. A little salt, and bread quantum suff. may be eaten with him ; and a glass — or if you please, bottle -of chambertin drank with him — but, as you live, eschew sauces, vegetables, or — small beer! More people, I believe, know better how to kill a 168 FIELD SPORTS. Snipe secundum artem, than how to cook him decently, or eat him gracefully, when slain, it becomes the sportsman to shine in both capacities; and, though myself I partake a little too much of the ti-ue Spaniel's quality to care much about eating game, I should at least have him eaten, if eaten he must be, as a dish for gods, not as a carcase for hounds. SUMMER WOODCOCK SHOOTINa. The wisdom of our game laws has decided that Woodcock shall be killed and taken, by all and sundry, in the State of New York, on and after the first, in the State of New Jersey on and after the fifth day of July ; although in the latter State the practice of the sovereign people has determined that the fourth is the day in- tended by the enactment, nnd on the fourth, accordingly, the slaughter commences. In Pennsylvania and Con- necticut, practice at least, if not law — and until recently, if there be now, there was no statute on the subject — has prescribed the same, or nearly the same period, for the commencement of Cock-shooting; and even in those counties of New York to which the enactment of these game laws, such as they are, does not' extend, tacit agreement has prescribed the same regulation, at least among sportsmen. So far, indeed, has this practice been carried, that by means of a convention of this sort, the shooting of Woodcock is tabooed^ until the fourth of July, even in the islands of the Grea^ Lakes and the Detroit River. The example was set by the officers, I believe, of the American and British garrisons at Detroit and Amherst- berg, acting in concert, and the practice has almost become common law. The fact is, therefore, that everywhere through the United States and the British Provinces, whether there is or is not any distinct law on the subject, the com- mencement of July is as regularly hailed the legitimate time for Woodcock-shooting, as the first of September in England for Partridge. In New Jersey, which is in almost every respect a cen- tury behind all the neighbouring States^, there is a special VOL. I. I --, - 1 170 FIELD SPORTS. proviso that on his own ground every man may kill all sorts of game whenever he pleases, without the slightest reference to common sense or humanity, and may give permission to any one he pleases to do likewise. A proviso, which not only abrogates the whole law, in point of fact, but in truth gives the poacher a clear advantage over the honourable sportsman. There is, however, I imagine, no prospect of any alteration of this law, which is in perfect keeping with the pig-headed stupidity manifested throughout the legislation of that State. And why, in fact, should not a man be allowed to kill Woodcock whenever he likes on his own ground, in a State wherein a company is licensed to kill men and women, whenever they like, on their own railroad ; and charge them whatever they like for killing them into the bargain ? On the first of July, then. Woodcock-shooting legi- timately commences ; although before that day hun- dreds, nay thousands, are killed along the sea-board, and notoriously offered for sale by almost all the restaurateurs and hotel-keepers in New York, the utmost efforts of the Sportsman's Club to the contrary notwith stan ding. At this period, about four-fifths of the birds — the young birds, of course, I mean — are half-grown or thereabout, some only being a few weeks old, and others, in late and adverse seasoTJs, scarcely hatched. The Woodcock commences laying as early as the beginning of February, and sometimes lays so late as the end of June, or the beginning of July. The eggs are four, and sometimes five in number —of no more than this does any naturalist inform us. "V 'hether the old birds regularly breed a second and third time, what becomes of the young birds of the first hatching in the meantime, and whether they are protected by the male bird, is ail left dark. Now, although the length of time occupied by incu- bation is not laid down in the books, it cannot exceed eighteen or twenty days — the young birds run the UPLAND SHOOTING. 171 in moment they clip the shell; and it is stated by Mr. Audubon, I doubt not correctly, that at six weeks' old, they are strong and quick on the wing. According to this, there should be many birds well on the wing early in April; and from all we know of the growth of these birds, no difference being manifested after the August moult between the old and young, these should be fully equal to the parents in si?se on the first of July. I have myself no doubt, that the Woodcock regularly breeds twice, and sometimes thrice a season, although it is certain that young ])irds of two different sizes, and consequently different hatchings, are never found in July with the same parents. It occurs to me, but I cannot be sure of the fact, as I only speak from vague recollection, that in the few cases where it is possible to be assured, that all the birds killed are of one brood — as, for instance, in small hill-swales, and the like, containing one resting-place— I have never seen above one old bird with the brood. In adverse seasons — the worst of which are those which, after a favourable and early spring, become cold and wet in May and June — when the first brood is destroyed by floods, the old birds do unquestionably breed a second time, and hatch a very late brood, so late as to the middle of July. And of this, I think, the following anecdote will be held suffic / iit proof and confirmation. This anecdote was published by me some two or three years since, in the columns of a leading monthly magazine, in connecti vi> with a number of remarks con- cerning the habits of the Woodcock, on some of which I have since been led to alter my op5'iion. I was, at that time, inclined to believe that the parent birds re- tained several broods of young, of different sizes, about them ; but I am satisfied that this view of the case was erroneous, and was induced .^y the accident of two v^r more broods having come in contact, as is perpetually the case on well-stocked ground, under the care of only one parent bird each. The only way to verify the facts satisfactorily, would I 2 172 FIELD SPORTS, n be to mark down, in the daily return of game killed, the number of old birds in proportion to young, and to ascertain the sex of the former by dissection. The female bird, it is true, is somewhat the larger ; but it is not safe to reckon on the eye, or even on the scales, for the determination of the sex. By the way, I con- ceive that there must be some error in the printing of Mr. Audubon's statement concerning this relative dis- proportion. He states the weight of the male bird at 6-^ oz., which appears to me, beyond all question, inade- quately low — and that of the female, at 8i oz. ; while in length the female exceeds the male only by -jV of an inch. This difference is inconceivable, not to say im- possible. The understatement of the male Woodcock's weight struck me at first sight; and I endeavoured to account for it to myself, by supposing that the Summer Cock had been assumed as the base of calculation. I presume now, that 6\ oz. is a typographical error for 8^ ; which I should have stated, if asked suddenly, as about the average weight of a full-grown Woodcock. A bird shot by myself on the 23rd of October, 1843, weighed 9j oz., measured 13 inches from bill to claw, and 18 frcm wing to wing extended; but this was an uncommonly large bird. I have, however, heard of their being killed up to 11 oz. Once for all, it appears to me that Mr. Audubon understates the weight of his game-birds generally. The coming season I will carry a small scale in my jacket pockect, and would earnestly urge it on every sportsman to do the same. They can be obtained at any tackle-shop, and will weigh up to 10 or 12 lbs., being as portable as a common pencil-case. A few years since — I think it was ia 1841 — there was a deep fall of snow, covering the greater part of the State of New York, near eighteen inches deep, so late as the r2th or 15th of May. It thawed, of course, im- mediately, and produced a complete inundation, the early spring having been rather uncommonly dry. From this I augured ill for the prospects of the shoot- ing season. But fine weather followed, and by most UPLAND SHOOTING. I7i> persons the spring snow-storm and freshet were for- gotten. On the 1st of July I went with a friend, a good shot and eager sportsman, to a favourite shooting-ground in Orange county, N. Y., on a part of which — for it had a very large range, and contained many varieties of lying — we had bagged on the previous year 125 birds in a single day's shooting. We shot the first day on the low meadows, and killed hardly any birds; not, to the best of my recollection, above ten or a dozen, in a severe day's walking. They were v/cll grown birds, but not a single old one in the number. My companion, greatly annoyed, insisted that the ground had been hunted before that season, and all the birds killed off, except the handful that we had found. From this conclusion I dissented, arguing that if such had been the case, we should have found old birds, the young being the easier both to find and to kill, especially for cockney sportsmen, who alone may be presumed to hunt before that season. My friend grew almost angry, and asked me, " Whe 'e, then, are the birds?" I answered, "Wait till to-morrow evening, when we shall have beat our other ground, and I will tell you." The next day we did beat the other ground; wet swales, and sloping woods of small extent in valleys watered by little streamlets from the hills. The result was the same, a wretched day's sport, and no old birds, or at least hardly any. As usual, each held his own position, my friend again asked, " How do you account for this ?" I re- plied, "All the young broods have been destroyed by the freshet, except the very few which got off before the Mav flood. This accounts for the fev^iess of the ft birds, and for the uncommon size of those few. The old birds are now hatching their second broods on the ridges and hill-sides. I will you show that I am right to-morrow." And to-morrow I did show him that the ridges and sapling coverts — s-prouts, as the country 174 FIELD SPORTS. people call them — were full of old birds, hovering^ and no young ones. Still my companion was incredulous as to the second broods, until fhe afternoon, as I was passing through a little clump of alders, not above two or three yards square. I flushed a bird which flew out to him. He fired. I called out to inquire whether he had killed, and as he answered " yes," I heard the bird flapping its wings on the ground, in the death-stri ^-gle, as I imagined. Knowing that he could recover the bird, in the open ground, I beat out the thicket thoroughly, and left it, satisfied that it contained no other bird, though I had some difficulty in getting oi.e of my Setters away from what I supposed to be a field- mouse. On joining my friend, he told me that the bird had flapped up, when he Mas in the act of laying his hand upon it, and staggered away, seeming every moment on the point of falling, so that he did not care to fire at it again, until it got out of shot; but that he had marked it down to a yard, in a thick brush fence, three or four hundred yards away. On going to the place, the dogs took the scent readily; but, while they were trailing it, the bird rose, a hundred yards off, flapping and stagger- ing about, as if severely hurt, and flew aome three or four hundred yards farther from the thicket in which we first started it, and dropped again in a piece of thick hill- side coppice. I marked the bird accurately by the top of a pine-tree, and off* we set in pursuit, I more than half suspecting that the bird was unwounded. Scarce had we entCi jd the covert, when up M^hizzed the identical bird fresh and so nd, from the very brake in which I had marked him, and away like a bullet through the tree-tops. So thoroughly convinced was I, that, though I could have killed the bird with ease, I would not fire at it; but to convince my still doubting friend, we walked Ijack to the little tuft in which we first sprung the cock; he promising not to fire if we should again flush him. My dogs were not well in the alders before UPLAND SHOOTING. Ill we •ung fore the bird rose again, and was going away at his best pace, when my friend's shot stopped her, to my infinite disgust. He is a very quick shot, and in the excitement of the moment forgot everything except the game and the fury of pursuit. Ahnost at the same moment, old Chance — he was the best retriever I ever saw in any country — picked up from the spot where I had supposed he was snuffing after a field-mouse a young downy, unfledged Woodcock, less than two inches long. Chance would carry a hurt bird by the tip of his wing, without ruffling a feather; and though it will hardly be believed, I took the little fledgling from his mouth unharmed, and had the satisfaction of seeing him run away briskly, and hide himself behind a dock- leaf. That day we shot no more, nor indeed that summer ; but before we left the Orange county, I went again to the same brake with the old dog, but without a gun, and flushed what 1 presume to have l)een the male bird, which, by its simulated crippled flight, again drawing TCP. away from the spot, convinced me that he was ./arching over his motherless little ones. Had I needed anything to convince me that Woodcock ought not to be shot in July, that scene would have convinced me; and since that day I have never ceased to advocate a change and simplification of our game l^ws, which should prohibit the killing of Woodcock until the 1st day of October; and make that one day the end of close time for all game whatever. For the present, however, until the game laws shall be altered, and established on a more reasonable and more permanent footing, of which I flatter myself there is still a remote hope left to the true sportsman, there is nothing left but to make the best of it, — to take the field ourselves, vidth the 61 TroXXot, and do our best at the slaughter; nor will I deny that there is much sport in it, though sport which, if men could be induced to 176 FIELD SPORTS. r 1 forego it, would lead to such results in autumn, as we can now hardly imagine. This interesting little bird, being properly nocturnal in his habits, is rarely or never seen by day, unless by those who are especially in pursuit of him, and even by them he is found with difficulty, unless when hunted with well broke dogs. At nightfall, however, he may often be seen on the wing, darting athwart the gloom from the dry upland coverts, in which at many seasons he loves to lie, toward his wet feeding-grounds. During the hours of darkness he is on the alert constantly; by night he seeks his food; by day he makes his long and direct migrations, choosing for this latter purpose foggy weather, at or about the full of the moon. By day he lies snugly ensconced in some lonely brake, among long grass and fern, under the shade of the dark alder or the silvery willow, and near to some marshy level, or muddy streamlet's brink during the summer; but, in the autumn, on some dry westering hill-side, clothed with dense second-growth and saplings. In very quiet spots, especially where the covert over- head is dense and shadowy, he sometimes feeds by day; and it has been my fortune once or twice to come upon him unsuspected when so engaged, and to watch him for many minutes probing the soft loam, which he loves the best, with his long bill, and drawing forth his succulent food, from the smallest red wire-worm to the largest lob-worm, suitable for the angler's bait when fishing for Perch or the Yellow Bass of the Lakes. It is by the abundance of this food that his selection of haunts is dictated, and his choice of seasons, in some considerable degree, controlled. On sandy and hungry soils, as of Long Island, for example, he is found rarely in comparison, and never in the large congregations which so rejoice the he?rt of the sportsman in more favoured localities. Still more does he eschew sour marsh land and peat bogs, wherein, by the way, the UPLAND SHOOTING. 177 worm he most affects hardly exists ; while on fat loamy bottom lands, whether the colour of the soil be red or black, rich with decomposed vegetable matter, he may be found in swarms. It must be understood, however, that after the young brood have left the parent birds, which departure occurs after the first moult, the Woodcock is a solitary bird, acting and moving for himself alone, although the same causes may draw hundreds of them to one neighbour- hood, and never flying in flocks or associating in any- wise with his fellows, until the commencement of the breeding- season. At this period of the year, from July I mean, to the beginning of the moult, when the bird disappears from among us for a while, the young broods are found on the ground in which they are bred. And there is scarcely any sort of ground, in which the soil consists of black vegetable mould, or rich loam of any kind, and in which there is a sufficiency of water, that is not congenial to him as a breeding-place — I except always the depths of the primeval forests, in which he never is found. The narrowest ravines, down which the merest thread of water trickles among bare gray rocks, provided there is a bed of rich succulent soil in the bottom of the swale, even at the height of 800 feet above tide-water will hold a brood or two ; so will the swampy bogs and morasses on the tops of the highest hills ; but the fa- vourite breeding-ground of the bird is undoubtedly level marsh meadow^, interspersed with clumps and thickets of willow and alder, maple-groves, growing on swampy land and warm sequestered valleys. In South-West Jersey, they are found in the greatest abundance on perfectly open meadows, among bog-grass and rushes, in exactly what would usually be called admirable Snipe-sjround ; and I have killed them in the neighbourhood of Salem, in considerable numbers, where there was not a tree or bush within half a mile. This approximation of habits between the two kindred spe- i3 178 FIELD SrOHTS. cies, of Snipe and Woodcock, is very curious nnd inte- resting — the former l)ird, as \\c have seen above, under certain circumstances and in peculiar districts, betaking himself to the wooded haunts f '' his nearest blood rela- tion, and the latter, when in n treeless country, making himself at home among marshy levels Ijctter adapted to the general habits of his cousin. On no ground, howeverj have I ever seen, or shall I, I much fear, ever again see this bir*^' such multitudes, as on what are called the "Urown^- . ar.ds" in Orange county, N. Y. These are a vast tract of level country, surrounding the various branches and tributary streams of the Walkill — it extends many miles in length, and contains every sort of lying — tall open groves, impene- trable fastnesses of brake and thicket, wide reaches of perfectly open bog-meadow, and as wide expanses of open plain, covered with rich, tender grass, and inter- spersed at every few paces with brakes of alders, and "willow bushes. The numbers I have seen, on that ground, are incredible. In 1839, 1 shot over it, accom- panied by my friend, Mr. Ward, of Warwick, who then n'^eighed above three hundred pounds, and shot with a single-barrelled Westley Richard's gun ; and, in three successive days, we bagged fifty-seven, seventy-nine and ninety-eight Cock, over a single brace of dogs, not beginning to shoot until it was late in the morning. On the following year, with a friend from New York, I shot on the same ground all day the first, and until noon on the second / bagging, on the first, one hundred and twenty-five birds, and, on the second morning, seventy. The first of these days was intensely hot; and the ground became so much foiled by running of the innumerable birds, that, although we had excellent retrievers, we lost, beyond doubt, forty or fifty birds ; and at four in the afternoon we were entirely out of ammunition. I am perfectly satisfied that, if we had been provided with a brace of fresh dogs, at noon, with clean guns, and a proper supply of powder and copper caps, both of UPLAND SHOOTING. 179 'J of which gave out, it would have heen perfectly easy, on that day to have bagged from one iiundred to one hun- dred and fifty (tuple of Woodcock. The vshooting on that ground is now ended. The Erie railway passes within ten miles of it, and it is now overrun with city poachers and pot-hunters ; Iwsides being shot incessantly by the farmers' boys and village idlers of the neighbourhood, who have begun to com- pete with the Nev "ork vagabonds in supplying the markets with gam I confess that ^n wondered that the owners of these tracts ha the shrewdness to discover that by enforcing .v. i.i s, and prohibiting trespassers, they miglit annually let the shooting of these ranges for very considerable sums. " The Drowned Lands " are in general held in large farms, and the best shooting is all owned, comparatively speaking, by a very few indi- viduals. I have not the slightest hesitation in saying that if ^ome half-dozen or eight farmers, whose land I know, would resolutely put an end to all shooting on their premises, they could readily let the right of shoot- ing to an association of gentlemen, at a price which would put a hundred dollars annually into each of their pockets. I could find the gentlemen who would give it, and be but too glad of the opportunity ; and who, looking forward to enjoyment of the same sport in future years, would neither wantonly annihilate the stock, nor do the mischief to the grass crops, and fences, which continu- ally results from the incursions of the loafers and vaga- bonds, who compose the great bulk of rural sportsmen. I really should greatly rejoice at seeing something of this sort attempted. Its effect would be most beneficial on the preservation of game generally throughout the United States. At the beginning of the Woodcock season, to revert to things as they now are, it is an easy matter to find birds, if you are in a good country; and in truth, except in the immediate vicinity of the large cities, there is no * ^S^:^r, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) A Wl/. % 1.0 I.I If: ■« 2.5 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" - ► Photographic Sciences Corporation ^% 4 \ ^^ o .A "% V \ 6^ '%^ 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 v^ ^ > 180 FIELD SPORTS. difficulty in finding broods enough to amuse a few leisure hours ; although it is daily becoming more and more questionable whether it is worth the while of dwellers in the Atlantic cities, to keep dogs for the pur- pose of Cock-shooting, and to make excursions some fifty or sixty miles inland for sport during the season. A due regard to truth compels me to say that such excursions have ceased to be what they were, ** conmle Planco" when General Jackson was first President; yet farther inland there are doubtless still places to be found abounding with the tribe of Scolopax ; alchough from the " Big Piece," and the '^ Little Piece," from Chatham and the " Drowned Lands," the glory of his house has, for the most part, departed. In July, then, there is ordinarily but little skill to be displayed in the mere act of finding the birds, for there is nothing to be done but to beat the ground carefully, thoroughly and slowly, wherever there is water and covert. Unless the brood of the season has been anni- hilated already, or the ground so persecuted in past seasons as to have been entirely deserted by the breed- ers, here they must be found. In this country Wood- cock are shot altogether over Setters or Pointers— during the whole sixteen years which I have passed in the States, I have known but two sportsmen who used the Cock Spaniel, though that is unquestionably the proper dog over which to shoot the bird — and it is obvious that there are many objections to be made to these, in their places, noble animals, as used for covert- shooting. The proper sphere for both Pointer and Setter is the open — the wide, waving, heathery moors^ the grassy Snipe-bog, the rich russet stubbles, from which the harvests have been garnered to the farmer's heart's-content. To range as wide, as highly, and as dashingly as they can, is their proper vocation, and their highest merit. To work fairly and in full view of their master and of one another, giving plentiful note to the vicinity of game by their actions to the eye, but none to the ear, is the province for UPLAND SHOOTING. 181 IS for which nature destined them, as all their qualities de- monstrate. I In order to suit them for wood-shooting at all, one of these qualities has necessarily to be drilled out of them, by early and incessant rating, watching and admonition — I mean their speed, range and dash. The highest merit a thorough-bred and thoroughly- broke Setter or Pointer can possess in Europe, on his proper ground, and in pursuit of his proper game, is never, unless he be at a dead point, or down to charge, to be within five hundred yards of his master, always beating his ground, head up and stern down, at full gallop. Here in covert at least, where nine-tenths of his work is done, his highest merit is never to be twenty yards distant from him. He must unlearn his own nature, and acquire that of the Spaniel; in so far, at least, as to substitute un- wearied industry, short, continually-succeeding turns, and the closest possible quartering of the ground, for his natural rating gallop. His eye must be constantly on his master, his ear ever alive to his slightest whistle, which he must obey with the speed of light. He must be prepared to back his fellow, oftener at the word "Toho!" than at sight of his point; for so difficult is the covert in which his duty is done, that I have more than once seen three several dogs standing within a square of six yards, on one bird, not one of which sus- pected his comrade's presence. Again, he must be broke to drop where he is when the shot is discharged, instantaneously, and to lie there until commanded to " Seek dead '" when he must draw up to the killed bird, point it, and at the word " Fetch," perform the duty of a retriever. This it is, which makes a really fine, and thoroughly broke. Woodcock dog so nearly invaluable. Shooting as we do in this country in thickets overrun with vines, creepers, and cat-briars, to which the dens- est coppice or covert I ever have seen in England, was open-work, and that too, when every tree, plant and 182 FIELD SPORTS, shrub is covered with its most luxuriant summer foliage, it is evident that a dog cannot be visible half the time istt a distance of ten paces ; and that it is only by his keeping in constant motion to and fro, close before us, that we can in' the least make out his whereabout 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 compelled either to call them off, or to waste half the day in looking for them. Another great difficulty in summer Cock-shooting, over Setters, 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 unsportsmanlike 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 they 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 them- selves pointing out of sight, than they will follow what is surely the bent of their natural instinct, kept down by painful instruction, and will dash in and flush their game. When shooting in company, as one always should do, if possible, especially in July, I hav^e always made it a point, when the dogs were standing, so as to rendei H likely that the shot would be a ticklish one, to call up my comrade, — birds lie hard in summer, and a word or two, more or less, will not flush them, — to place him in the most commanding position, and then plunge 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. UPLAND SHOOTING. 193 Somehow or other, however, I have generally ma- naged to get about as many shots, and perhaps to bag about as many birds as my neighbours; 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-shoot- ing, the knack of tossing up your gun instinctively to your shoulder, and stopping your bird in the most tangled thicket, without knowing how you shot him, or whether you saw him rat aU when you fired, the instant you hear a flap of his wing. . Even when alone, I invariably flush my own bird, never ordering my dog to go on, even at the risk of losing a shot; though the chances are, that you can generally mark the bird down tolerably well. In this matter I never vary, and I do most- strenuously 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 birds, — by your setter getting into the way of dashing 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 quicktempered, all sorts of imprecations against your poor dog, which, if at all just, you would fulminate against yourself. Nothing is more annoying to me, than to be joined by some country gunner in the field, who, utterly uncon- scious of wrong, persists in doing things which make your own hair stand on end, and compels you to flog the unhappy quadrupeds for the faults of the stupid biped. • While speaking on this subject, I will quote an J 184 FIELD SPORTS. observation which I met with the other day, in a capital book, by a right good sportsman, entitled— the book, not the man — "The Moor and the Loch." The truth and force of the remark struck me the moment I read it; and, although it is not new to the accomplished sportsman, or old dog-breaker, I think I have never seen it in print before; and I am sure I have seen the fault it reprehends committed a hundred times. The writer is speaking of " the inveterate habit, con- tracted through bad breaking, of running in when the bird drops. This trick is acquired from the breaker's carelessness, in not always 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 rising^ whether shot at, or not; and unquestionably he is right in the matter. ** The steadiness of a dog'' he proceeds, <* whether old or young, depends entirely upon its being rigidly observed, I have seen dogs most unmercifully flogged, and yet bolt with the same eagerness every shot. It is easy to see the reason; the dog was fol- lowed by the keeper endeavouring 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 description, is when the Grouse," or other game, ''drops, and the dog rushes forward, never to stir, — coolly allow him to tear away at the game until you have loaded; by which time he 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 to where you fired, all the time giving him hearty shakes" — T should say, cuts with the whip, — "and crying *down,' when you get to the spot where you shot from, take out your whip, and between the stripes call *down,' in a loud 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 185 him slowly up to the bird, and lift it before his nose. If this plan is rigidly followed for several shots, I never saw the dog that would continue to run in," The writer, it will be observed, is here speaking o£ running in to eat or tear, not to "fetch" his bird; that 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 ncv^essary 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 Pointers, were invariably broke to "fetch" or retrieve dead birds; and that they were always taught to " come in " before charging. I was exceedingly incredulous on the first point; and it was only with reluctance, and after seeing the steadi- ness 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 spot, without coming in, was so thoroughly convinced of its advantage, in giving steadiness, in avoiding unnecessary words and orders, and in rendering the dog promptly obedient, that he at once adopted the method, and has never broken a dog otherwise since that time. I must add, that I am equally well satisfied, that to; retrieve 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 dead, before he is allowed to fetch. If the second duty is neglected, it will be a very little while before the animal begins to rush in at every shot, without charging. 186 FIELD SPORTS. One great difficulty here is, that no one in America having gamekeepers, 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 good shot, unacquainted 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 sportsmen, when purchasing new dogs, to take an opportunity, if possible, of seeing them hunted several times by the breaker, ahd of endeavouring to observe 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 thereby, and insist on the animal acting in all respects up to his previous teaching. Old sportsmen, of course, have their own ways of hav- ing their dogs trained, and on these they are so trained before buying them. Another thing is worthy of observation — a dog never ought to be lent. I would not lend my dog to a better 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, not better than he does, nor worse. It is impossible to imagine the difference of the intelligence of two dogs, 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 taken the opportunity of making these obser- vations on dog-breaking, and dog-hunting, in this place, because in summer Woodcock-shooting, above any UPLAND SHOOTING. 187 IS 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 observe 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, wod betide you, if you entertain so wild a hope. You hunt 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 sinu- ous movement through the bushes; or because you have not seen his form gliding among the water-flags or fern, so recently as you should have done, hfid 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, where he ought to be, and find him because he is there, pointing as you expected. A step or two for- ward, with your thumb on the hammer, and the nail of your forefinger 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 stead- fast 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 skunk-cabbages with your foot, or tap the bunch of cat-briars with your gun-muzzle, and flip-flap! up he jumps, glances, half-seen for 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 his line — the trigger is drawn, the charge splinters the stems and brings down a shower of green leaves, and among them you fancy that you have seen an indistinct something falling helplessly earthward — that you have heard the thud of his li'mble on the moist ground. Nevertheless, anxious although 188 FIELD B PORTS. ry you be, and doubtful of your own success, you stir not from the spot. At the report of the gun, your dog ' couched instantly ; you can scarcely see him, so closely has he chargjed among the water-grass, with his nos^ 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 deliberately. Yes! you Aavc killed him; you may see the feathers floating yonder, in the still murky air of the windless swamp. You half-cock your locks^ and apply the caps ; and expectant of the coming order, "Don" lifts his nose wistfully. " Hold up, seek dead !"^ and carefully, gingerly, as if he were treading upon 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 from this side to that, snuffing the tainted air, and whipping 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 wouldnot 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 Margaux 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 occasion. 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 ; such as I trust I may have many, before this year has donned the sear of the leaf, which is not as yet green. UPLAND SHOOTING. 189 Jesting apart, this is the way to do it, both as regards the flushing and shooting the bird, and the management of the dog ; and with respect to the last, 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 patient, too delibe- rate, or too quiet, with a delinquent dog. The least out- break of temper prostrates its own object. All punish- ment aims at prevention. If you distract the dog's comprehension of your meaning, the object of the punishment is lost. Remember, 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, teasing and irritating without punishing — when you do flog, flog in earnest. And this is a day's summer Cock-shooting — a repeti- tion of this that I have described, varied by those thousand little unforeseen incidents, which render field- sports so charming to every sensitive and enthusiastic spirit. First of all, it is pursued in the very loveliest summer weather, when the whole atmosphere is alive with all sounds of merriment and glee — it is followed among the wildest and most romantic combinations of rural scenery — in the deep, dim, secluded groves, far from the ordinary tread of man, by the reedy and wil- low-girdled margins 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 p,t unexpected turns over wide tracts of wood- land scenery — in places where the 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 form of animal life and beauty abounds, unbeheld of ordinary mortals. And are not all these things a source of pleasure to the true woodsman ? Is he not necessarily a lover not of sport only, and of excitement — those are the ruder 190 FIELD SPORTS. II and less genial attributes of his profession — ^but a lover of nature ? To his mere success as a sportsman, I have already shown that a knowledge of the habits and instincts of animals is necessary ; and let a man once set himsdf to study these, and he has turned already the first page of natural history; and so enticing is the study, that he perforce must persevere. And none can study natural history, without loving nature. The true sportsman, the gentle sportsman, must be in some sort a poet — not a jingler of rhymes, or a cramper of English words into strange and uncongenial measures, a meter of syllables, and a counter of fingers, but a lover of all things beautiful and wild — a meditator, a muser ! He must be, as the old pastorals were, nympharum fugientum amator; and to the very farthest flight of their coy footsteps must he follow them. Were 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 sportsman. And then the noonday repose beneath the canopy of some dark hemlock, or tall pine, still vocal with the same fitful murmur which pleasured in Arcadia the ears of old Theocritus — the dainty morsel, rendered a thousand times more savoury than your city banquets, by the true Spartan sauce of hunger, the cool draught tempered by waters cooler and clearer, though per- chance less full of inspiration, than the lymph of Hip- pocrene ; 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 meriy blaze, the rude yet appetizing cookery, the buoyancy of soul caught from all these things, the untutored jest, the untaught laughter; and, last not UPLAND SHOOTING. 191 least, composed on the fragrant hemlock tips, which strew the woodman's 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 1 you now, reader, have not we too caught the inspiration, and ere w« 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 season for hard exercise, — no season is, in truth, unfit for the display 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 with a flutter 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 mul- tiplicity of objects; it may be a full-grown white- fronted Woodcock, soaring away with its sharp whistle high above the tree-tops ; it may be the skulking Hare, bouncing among the kalmias and rhododendrons, vul- garly 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, skirring 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-shooting of this country the wildest and 192 FIELD SPORTS. mos.t interesting of any it has ever been my luck 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. And with, this ends all that is to be said on summer Woodcock-shooting; for the period during which the sport can be followed is of itself brief, not lasting — at the utmost not above a month from its commencement to its termination by the disappearance ^of the birds from their usual haunts in this section of the country. This disappearance of the bird is one of the most mysterious and inexplicable features in the natural his- tory of the Woodcock ; and what is very remarkable, it is not in any wise noticed 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 departure on the setting in of severe frost. That this is not the case is perfectly well known to every sportsman in the country, although very few of these have troubled their heads to consider the circum- stances of this short migration, much less to record it. The fact is, that so soon as the young birds of the last brood are full-grown, 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 indeed 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 family, and those only, it is probable, in consequence of some accidental circum- stance which has detained them, such as the lateness 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 ^^ my residence in Ame- ;i UPLAND SHOOTING. 193 uck to iless it and In ns. umm^r Lch the ing — at cement e birds intry. )e most iral his- lahle, it ituralist udubon peaking •ly from 3 on the Inown to few of circum- Icord it. the last for the Intil the leadow iattered [ough to on the |ly, it is lircum- Iness of lult on 'anquil. )ody is [hat for Ame- rica, when matters of business prevented me from absenting myscit from the city until the 1st of August, I was utterly unaware that the " Drowned Lands'' of ; Orange county ever held many Woodcock, although I was in the habit of passing my summer in that imme- diate vicinity, and had beat the very ground on which I have subsequently killed hundreds, without getting above half a dozen shots. It is the last week of July, or the first of August, that this disappearance of the Cock, whether from the hill-swales, the larger valleys, or the level meadows, takes place ; and after this until the first week in Octo- ber, it is useless to hunt for them. A few birds can, it is true, at all times be procured, enough to furnish a dainty for a sick friend, or perhaps at a hard pinch to try a dog ; but certainly not enough to render it agree- able, or worth the while to go out in pursuit of them. Another fact, going to prove that there is an absolute disappearance or emigration of the bird at this season, is that on their return 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 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 out no scent whereby the dog could detect him ; and from sickness, or inability to fly with his wonted velocity, refused to rise before the tread of his intrud- ing enemy, the man." This theory is answered in a word. Tlie Woodcock, while in moult, does give out as much scent, is pointed VOL. I. K 194 FIELD SPORTS. as readily by dogs, does 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 return before 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 labour as to render the pursuit of them toil- some, and productive only of weariness and disappoint- ment. I have, however, killed them repeatedly, while en- deavouring 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-feathers; 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 birds took wing as freely, though, in truth, half impo- tent to fly. Beyond this, it is scarce necessary to point out to an intelligent reader, that if the birds still lay in swarms on their old ground, however scentless, they must, when that ground is hunted closely by true-beating and industrious dogs, be either run up, or turned out of the grass, and caught in the mouth sometimes; which ^I have never known to happen in all my experience of the field. The other theory was this, which I have heard in- sisted on as strenuously as the former, " That the Woodcock, on beginning to moult, betakes himself to the maize or Indian corn-fields, and remains there unsus- pected until the crops have been housed, 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 during the night. previous to their removal ; but that they are ever to be found generally, or for any number of consecutive days UPLAND SHOOTING. 195 Ird in- it the to the insus- cold )dcock edge ly feed night. to be days : -4 or weeks in such ground, :. m utterly incorrect sur- mise, disproved by long expeiience. I have applied myself carefully to the investigation of this circumstance ; and in the last ten years, have certainly beaten a thousand maize-fields thoroughly, with a brace of as good Setters 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 on such ground altogether. Somewhat, I must confess to my surprise, I have observed within the last few weeks, a long and some- what elaborate article, in the columns of that admirable journal, the New York " Spirit of the Times," the writer of which apparently quite unconscious 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 tlian to bet season in and out, against one bird to square acre — or square five acres for that matter. I think the reader will admit that the two theories, a'luded to above, are by these facts indisputably con- troverted. And now I must expect that it will be enquired of me, " Whither then do they go ? What does become of them ?" 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. K 2 196 FIELD SPORTS. 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 forth, until the next February brings round the pairing time, the Woodcock, whether found singly in a solitary place, or among scores of his kind, is still a lonely and ungre- garious bird, coming and going at his own pleasure, without reference — 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 Highlands 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, lite- rally alive with Woodcock. This occurred, according to his statement, in the beginning of September, when no birds were to be found in the level and wet woods below. He farther stated, that he at first in- tended to revisit the hill the next day, with dog and gun, in order to profit by his discovery, but was pre- vented 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 labour, and on the next day found the swamps below full of birds. Not vouching for the truth of this tale, I tell it as it was told to me ; the teller was a sportsman, and a man of average veracity — that is to say, I should have been inclined to believe any fact he stated, where I could see no interest on his part which should lead him to attempt deception. In this case there was no such reason, not even the desire of prevailing in argument, for we were not arguing. 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, UPLAND SHOOTING. 197 our ; day- it as nd a lave re I him such lent, well fact dsOj * 1 myself, frequently found scattered birds on such liill- tops, and in such mountain-swales, while deer-stalking in August and September, though not in numbers which would justify the belief in a general migration cw ?waMe 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 proba- ble suggestion 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 favourite grounds, they move farther northward as does the English Snipe, yet earlier in the season, not to return until the premature cold of Northern Canada drives them back, tc tarry with us a few months on their way southward. Should this prove to be the case, the Woodcock, in- stead of being termed with us a summer bird of pass- age, 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 Scolopax, in- variably rears his young before going farther toward the frosts of the northern pole. Of these suggestions my readers must judge whether is the better of the two ; one of the two I believe to be the only way for accounting for the Woodcock's short disappearance at this season. For the rest, as I leaned at first to the former, so do I now rather incline toward the latter belief, facts not bearing out the former to my satisfaction, although I do not think the question has been as yet fully tested by experiment. It is to be regretted here, that this question is yearly becoming, in these districts, more difficult of solution ; and I am the more strenuous in noting this emigration, because things may come ere long to such a pass, that it will become wholly undistinguishable. 198 FIELD SPORTS. When I first shot in New Jersey, and the river coun- ties of New York, the disappearance of the birds was evident enough, because, up to a certain day, they abounded, and after that were not. Now long before the second week of July, the Woodcock are exterminated in their summer haunts for miles and miles around our large cities; too many of them, alas! slaughtered before the season, when scarcely able to liy — when nearly unfit for the table — when a game despicable to the loyal sports- man, and a victim easy to the pot-hunting knave, who goes gunning with a half-bred, half-broken cur, and a German fowling-piece, dear at a dollar's purchase. Oh, gentlemen legislators — gentlemen sportsmen! "Reform it altogether!" Oh, ye choice spirits! who stood forth, after the long, hard winter and deep snow-drifts Quail-destroying of 1 836, to rescue that delightful little fowl from total ex- tinction, 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 swarm, on the 1st of July, with guns more numerous than birds ; the Warwick woodlands, once inaccessible to the pot-hunter and the poacher, may now be reached for fifty cents; may now be swept clear in a single day; nay, are swept 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 altogether!" Enact that the Woodcock shall not be slain — shall not be possessed — as Mr. Blunt possessed him — on plate or in stomach, until the 1st day of October. Every true sportsman — every sportsman whatsoever, will go hand and heart with the law — will watch and prevent the illegal sale of the bird ; and then, ye gods of woodcraft ! Sylvans and Fauns ! an d thou, friend of the hunter. Pan ! what sport shall we have in brown October, when the sere underbush is bare of leaves to I UPLAND SHOOTING. 199 loever. i I mar the sportsman's aim ; when the cool dewy earth sends up the odour 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 yards, but on a vigorous and whistling pinion, with sharp-piping alarm note, swift as a rifle bullet, soaring away through the tree-trops, or darting, devious with abrupt zig-zags, among the thick-set sapUngs. Him, no boy can blaze at, his twenty times in half an hour, and slaughter after all with one chance pellet, or happily wearied down without one! Him can no German gun achieve, of cast-iron, scattering its shot over an area of twenty feet, harmless at twenty yards ! Him can no cur-dog flush in gun-shot of pot-hunting poacher. No ! gentle reader, him, whether he lies in the tufted fern and winter-greens, or the dry slope of some warm, westering hill-side, among second-growth of brown oak and chestnut; whether he wades 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 the 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 the yet verdant alders ; whether he soar away, with his sharp whistle, far, far above the red and yellow tree-tops j 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 characterize the sportsman — the crack shot, who — as poor Cypress averred truly — is born like the poet — not 200 FIELD SPOkTS. made like the orator — to cut down at his speed ; not wing-tipped or leg-broken, but riddled by the concen- trated 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. My words are too weak to describe the full charm of this noble pastime — noble, when followed as it should be, in the true animua and ardour of the chase — but most ignoble when perverted to base, culinary, carnal, gluttonous, self-seeking purposes — weak are they, when compared with the vivid and heart-thrilling reality — yet even thus, they will have done their duty if they succeed m arousing the attention of the true friends of sportsmanship throughout the land, to this most interesting subject. Certain it is, that the Wood- cock returns, whether old or young, to the same place where he was bred and where he has reared his young, if unmolested. If persecuted and shot off, year after year, on his very breeding-ground, and while he was in the very act of breeding, he will desert that ground altogether. Of this I have seen proof positive. In the immediate vicinity of Warwick, in Orange county, within two miles of the village, there are twenty little woods and swamps, each of 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 consequence was," that long before the general shooting of the district was affected by the march of intellect and the growth 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 succession, injure that wood less as a home for Wood- cock than ten killed once in July. Hence, as for fifty Ui>l.AND SHOOTING. 201 his y act Of ;diate two and j;o to oods ing- that the was, was h of two iner s in ood- fifty other reasons, I say, if we would have Woodcock-shoot- ing at all, away with summer-shooting — away with all upland-shooting, antecedent to the first of October, unless you choose to except Snipe, although for the exception I can see no reason, unless it is that the evil produced by killing them in spring is as yet something less crying, and the diminution of their numbers less palpable. I had the honour to lay a draft of a petition to the New York Legislature on this subject, before the New York Sportsman's Club in the course of last winter — 1846-7 — ^which was taken up, and the draft printed. I regret to say, that from prudential motives, as it was thought by many good sportsmen, and apprehension of difficulty in getting a sufficiency of signatures, action on it has been postponed for the present. I am still myself satisfied, that the measure therein proposed, or some other nearly akin to it, is the last and only hope left to sportsmen of preserving any kmd of game, but especially Woodcock, among us. The domestic habits of the Quail, his haunting-home- steads, are becoming to some degree a pet of the farmer, and yet more, his indigenousness to the land, acts in a considerable degree as a protection to him.. But the Woodcock, who is a mere emigrant, here to-day and away to-morrow, has no domestic friend, no landlord to protect him, and men forget that if spared, he will as surely return to breed in the same wood again, bringing all his progeny with him to increase and multiply, as the tepid winds and warm showers of April and May will succeed to the easterly gales and snow-drifts of March, and the leaves be green in summer from the buds which burst in spring. My game law, such as it is, will be found in the appendix to Upland Shooting. I believe it would be useful as it is, but should any sportsman or any other society of sportsmen be able to concoct one better either in practice, or in the probability of success, I and all my friends, and those who think with' me on the sub- k3 202 FIELD 8P0RTI. ject, are prepared to support it. Unity of action is the one thing needful ; and that cannot be attained if every man holds out resolutely for his own crotchet. Let the principle once be affirmed and made good, and the details are of infinitely minor importance. They will follow. For the rest, what is to be done, must be done quickly, or we shall be liable to the ridicule which falls on the tardy yhin^an/ who locks his stable-door after the horse is stolen. Three or four more seasons like the two last, and the question will be settled to our hands, and if we do not bestir ourselves now, we shall find ere long that we shall have neither summer nor autumn Cock-shooting within a hundred miles of the seaboard. UPLAND PLOVER-SHOOTING. With the end of July, all that can properly be called shooting, as a genuine sport, is at an end. The Wood- cock, as I have already stated, is no longer to be found, whether he be lying perdu on the mountain-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 Quail is still busy with her eggs, or her fledgling cheepers; and the Ruffed Grouse, although her young are already two-thirds grown, is protected by the game laws until the first day of November. This last protection, by the way, is as absurd, in point of fact, as everything connected with the game laws of the States. All the varieties of Grouse ire early breeders ; their young come rapidly to maturity; when full-grown they are as wild as hawks ; and at all times, from their own habits, and the peculiarity of the ground on which they reside, they take better care of themselves than any other species of winged game. The breeding-season of these birds commences in May; early in June the young birds can fly ; and by the middle of September they are full-grown. There is this peculiarity about them, moreover, that they do not, as all other birds of this order, rasoresy with which I am acquainted, keep together in broods or coveys until the commencement of the next breeding-season; but separate altogether, and ramble about either as single individuals, or in small parties, during the autumn and winter. After this separation has once taken place, the birds, both 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 204 FIELD SPORTS. thicket, in which they cannot run ; and consequently there is no chance of having any sport with them, after they have once ceased to keep company. This, I think, they invariably do, before the law permits that they should be 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, frequenting the roughest and most inaccessible mountain-sides, evergreen thick- ets, 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 number, in a day's hard walk- ing. Add to this, that if the Ruffed Grouse be the particular object of pursuit, there is no chance of find- ing any other ftpecies 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 spurt, 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 regular line of beat in order to find or to follow them ; if you do, sure disappointment rwaits you. The best day I*f er had with Ruffed Grouse was in the low, dense thioKets 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 straggler or two of I^he Grouse. With a friend, how- ever, I bagged eig\it biaco of these birds, fairly pointed, which I consider yreai: \jtcri, as I have never before or since seen an opportunity ->i doing a quarter of the work, though I have tak/iu iong jou.neys for the espe- cial purpose of getting this iport in perfection. UPLAND SHOOTING. 205 y^ of the If the law authorized the shooting them in Septem- ber, or at thi .atest on the first of October, them are many districts of the country where the Uu Jed Grouse wouM afford great sport to those who woula L; u'^ the trouble to pursue them into their fastnesses, which requires considerable strength and activity. In the meantime, however, while there is no legiti- mate upland-shooting to be had — by legitimate, I mean that which is fol'!)wed with dogs, whether Setter, Pointer, or iinAu'cl, '.u a legitimate and scientific manr ner — there oomcs into play, at the very critical moment, the " Ban.ai. .i;ai Sandpiper," better known as the * UpV^ \ Plover"—" Grass Plover"—" Field Plover"— or *' i'Vost Bird," which, as far as a bonne bouche for the epicure goes, is inferior in my judgment to no bird that flies, unless it be the Canvass-back; and there, with the Chancellor, / doubt ! As a game-bird, and object of pur'>uit, I do not myself care about him, the modus operandi does not suit my book, or entertain me; never- theless, there is much skill displayed in circumventing, or as Major Docherty 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 favourite sport. This bird, which by the way is not a Plover, though very nearly allied to that species, is stated by Mr. Audubon to arrive in the Middle States early in May, to reach Maine by the middle of that month, to breed from Maryland northward to the Saskatchewan, and to winter in Texas and Mexico. It r shot, in the Eastern and Middle States, from Massachusetts to Pennsylvania, during the months of August and September, and in fact, until it is driven southward by the fros-ts; although it is worthy of remark, that it is also killed abundantly so far south as the neighbourhood 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 f i 206 FIELD SPORTS. swelled by flocks coming down successively from the north-eastward, where I imagine they breed, in far greater quantities than within the 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 numbers in Rhode Island, in the vicinity of Newport, than in any other district with which I am acquainted; 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 Maine. Comparatively speaking, there are few sportsmen 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 bi[rds on the wing rare, and in the eyes of the community rather ridiculous. The consequence of this is, that the capabilities of the country in a sporting view, are unknown; and the species of game, to be found in it, almost certainly lost to the sporting world. In June 1840, 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 proper means taken, great numbers might be procured at the proper season in that region. The Field Plover is abundant in the Boston markets during the season; and I believe they are sufficiently common to aiFord amusement to the sportsman 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 abound: and they still frequent that country, although not nearly so numerous as they were some years sine* In New Jersey they are very rare, owing to the nature, I imagine, of the soil, and the face of the country; for these birds are the least mari- time of their race, and never, I think, frequent salt marshes, or water-meadows of any kind; of which most UPLAND SHOOTING. not Long equent they very lid the mari- it salt most 207 of th^ low lands in New Jersey consist, while its hills are not open sheep-walks, but rocky and wooded fast- nesses, equally unfit for this Sandpiper's abode. Where vast unenclosed plains are not to be found, this bird loyes 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, — grass- hoppers, beetles, and all the 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 j^ocA«, for they do not usually act in concert, or fly together, rising, if they are startled, one by one, and each taking its own course, without heeding its companions — this, by the way, I have noticed as a peculiarity of all the upland scolopacida, none of which fly, so far as I have ever observed, in large bodies, wheeUng and turning simul- taneously, at a signal, as is the practice, more or less, of all the maritime Saiidpipers, Tattlers, Plovers, and Phalaropes. While running swiftly over the surface of the ground, they utter a very peculiar and plaintive whistle, exceedingly mellow and musical, which has the 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 frequently gives the first notice to the sportsman, 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 Sandpiper either takes wing at once, or runs very rapidly to some distance, and then rising, sweeps round and round in aerial circles, and alights again out of distance. If wing-tipped, or slightly wounded, it runs so rapidly as to set pursuit at defiance, and then squats behind a clod of earth, or tuft of grass, to the colours of which its beautifully mottled plumage so 208 FIELD SPORTS. nearly assimilates it, that it cannot be distinguished, without great difficulty, among the leaves and herbage. I have only shot this Sandpiper myself, on a tract of upland pasture and ploughed land near to Bristol, in Pennsylvania, known as " Livingston Manor,*' where I found the birds very plentiful, and in excellent con- dition, during the month of August, in the year 1844. The country being closely inclosed with stout timber fences, it is impracticable either to drive up to them in a two-wheeled carriage, which is by far the most pre- ferable mode of pursuing them, or to stalk them on horseback; although I am of opinion that great sport might be had there with a pony that could fence well, and stand fire steadily. The men who shoot them for the market there, build bough-houses, in which to lie hid, or conceal themselves in the corners of maize-fields, or behind any casual hiding-places the country may offer, while their companions scatter about the fields, driving the birds to and fro, and rendering them, of course, exceedingly wild; yet a considerable number are shot thus, as they fly over their concealed enemies. This mode of proceeding is, of course, unendurable to the sportsman. By the aid of Eley's wire cartridges, red and blue, of No. 6 shot, however, I contrived to get moderately good sport, walking about in pursuit of them, and taking my chance at those driven over me by other parties. I, one day, bagged sixteen birds thus ; but it would have been a hundred to one against getting a single Sandpiper, with loose shot ; as I am certain that not one bird fell within fifty yards of me. This Sandpiper flies very swiftly, and when on the wing shews like a very large bird, owing to the great length of its sharp-pointed wings. At first sight, you would sup- pose it to be as large as a pigeon, although its body is not, in truth, very much larger than that of the common Snipe, or intermediate between that and the Woodcock, while the extent of its wings from tip to tip exceed either of these, by nearly one-fourth. Like many other species UPLAND SHOOTING. 209 of wild birds, this Sandpiper is extremely cunning, and appears to be able to calculate the range of a fowling- piece with great nicety; and you will constantly find them sitting perfectly at their ease, until a few paces more ' would bring you within shot of them, and then rising with their provoking whistle, just when you believe yourself sure of getting a crack at them. In the same manner they will circle round you, or fly past you, just out of gunshot, tempting you all the time with hopes that will still prove false, unless you have some such device as Eley^s cartridges, by which to turn the shrewd- ness of this cunning little schemer to its own destruc- tion. In Rhode Island where alone the sport is now pursued systematically, the mode adopted is this, — the shooter, accompanied by a skilful driver, on whom, by the way, the whole onus of the business rests, and to whom all the merit of success, if attained, is attributable, is mounted in what is termed in New Engla- d a chaise, that is to say, an old-fashioned gig with a top. In this convenience, he kneels down, with his left leg out of the carriage, and his foot firmly planted on the step, hold- ing his gun ready to shoot at an instant's notice. The driver, perceiving the birds, as they are running and feeding on the open surface, selects one, according to his judgment, and drives round it rapidly in concentric circles, until he gets within gunshot of it, and perceives by its motions that it will not permit a nearer approach. He then makes a short half turn from it, pulling the horse short up, at the same instant ; and at that very same instant, for the Sandpiper rises invariably at the moment in which the chaise stops, the shooter steps out lightly to the ground, and kills his bird, before it has got well upon the wing. In the timing of all this various work, on the part of the driver and the gunner, there is a good deal of skill requisite, and, of course, a good deal of excitement. But the real sport, and the real skill, are both on the part of the driver, whose duty it is to deliver his marks- 210 FIELD SPORTS. r ' \ If i man as nearly as possible to the game, yet never to run the thing so close, as to allow the Sandpiper to take wing before he has pulled up. The difference in the judgment and skill of the drivers is immense; and there is one gentleman in New York, a well-known, and old friend of the public, who is said to be so infinitely superior to all others, that the gun in his chaise, even if it be handled by the inferior shot, is sure to come off the winner. It is not unusual, I am told, to bag from twenty to twenty-five couple of these delicious birds in a day's sport, in this manner, and I have heard of infinitely greater quantities being brought to bag. The record of some almost incredible number, killed by three guns, was published last year in the Spirit of the Times, and by well-known sportsmen ; but I have never tried the sport myself, and cannot therefore 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 sport 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 — except shooting sitting — is better than no shooting ; and I have no doubt, if I were at Rhode Island, in the proper season, I should be found chaising it, as eagerly as any body else. I am sure I do not know why 1 should not, since older, and I dare say, better sportsmen than myself swear by it. This, then, is the connecting link between the autumn and spring-shooting of the Uplands. For those who like them, Bay-shooting, at all thj varieties of Plovers, Sandpipers, Tattlers, Phalaropes, and Curlews, known along shore as " Bay Snipe," is to be had, in full force, everywhere from Cape Cod, or further eastward, to UPLAND SHOOTING. 211 Cape May, during the months of July, August, and September; and, in the end of August, Rail-shooting commences on the Delav are and adjacent rivers; but of these I shall treat in their places, — since the former must be regarded as Coast-shooting, and the latter cannot be classed with Upland sport, although it is only pursued inland. With Plover-shooting, therefore, the sports of the summer months end; and, with the month of October, the j oiliest, heartiest month of the whole year, despite of what Mr. Bryant says of " the melancholy days " of autumn, the real season has its commencement; and thereafter the woodlands, the stubbles, and the moun- tain's-brow, are the true sportsman's Paradise. \ AUTUMN OOOK-SHOOTING. ii ,1 ;• I AuTUMN-shooting, which is par excellence the true sport of the true sportsman — cannot be said to have its beginning on any particular day, or even in any parti- cular month of the season. Its commencement is regulated by the return of the Woodcock, after its brief August migration; and, the period of that return being uncertain, and dependant on the state of the weather, and other influences, with which we are not fully acquainted, 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 respect very great, as regards both the Woodcock and the Snipe. I have shot both of these birds together, in considerable numbers, on the same ground, so early as the 12th or 15th of September; and again, in other seasons, neither the one nor the other bird have made their appearance until so late as the middle of October. As a general rule, however, I should say that Woodcock begin to return to the Atlantic States, in ordinary seasons, about the middle of September, and the Snipe about the 1st of October, — the latter bird being for the most part a few days behind his congener. It is very well worthy of remark, both by the sports- man 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 pre- sent, concerning the causes of the migration of our various birds of passage. In my articles on spring Snipe, and summer Cock- UPLAND SHOOTING. 213 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 regular country sportsman, who have the best opportunity of noting such peculiari- ties, of the Snipe ever resorting even to the thinnest covert on wood-edges, much less to dense coppices and tall woodlands, in the autumn. Nor have I 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 tliem killed, on what would elsewhere be called regular Snipe-ground, or in small brakes jalong the dykes and river margins; and there is no finer summer Cock- ground than this county, in the whole State. In the autumn, on the contrary, when the bird seeks other localities, 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-shooting to be had in the southern district of New Jersey. The Snipe, on his arrival, betakes himself at once to the same ranges of country, and the same meadows, as in the spring; and, with the sole exception that it is entirely useless to look for him in coppices, or along springy woodsides, as I have recommended 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 nidification. He lies harder before the dog, does not fly so far when flushed, and feels little or no inclination to ramble about, but adheres steadily to one |||| ■'■: III i « I'" 214 FIELD SPORTS. teeding-ground, unless driven away from it by persecu- tion, until the hard frosts of winter compel him to betake himself to the rice-fields of Georgia, and the muddy margins of the warm savannah. Moreover, the weather itself being at this time steadier, and less mutable, the 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 are too wet, and anothe^' perhaps too dry, — both conditions being at times carried to such an excess, as to drive the birds off altogether, from the impossibility of feeding or lying comfortably. In the autumn this is rarely, if ever, the case ; and although autumn-shooting is, of course, in some degree variable — Snipe being more abundant one year than another— it never has occurred, ' vithin my observation, that the flight passes on altogether without pausing, or giving some chanc^ of sport, more or less, as is not very unusually the consequence of a series of droughts or rains in the spring. The Woodcock, in his return from the northward, or his descent from the mountain-tops., never, as a general rule, returns precisely to the same feeding-grounds which he prefers in summer, during the extreme heats, but appears to prefer dry hill-sides, sloping to the sun, southerly or westward, and to choose 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 brakes and intervals, or glades, which he loves the best in July. This peculiarity renders him a more agreeable object of pursuit at this period of the year, the rather that he is now found often in company with bevies of Quail, and that almost invariably the latter bird, when flushed in the stubbles where he feeds, flies 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 215 excellent feeding and breeding -ground, not interspersed with the ferny hill-sides, overgrown with young, thrifty, thickset woodland. Cook 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 distinction, that whereas in summer, when he has once killed oiF clean the whole of the one, two, or three broods, which frequent a small piece of coppice, or swamp thicket, it will be utterly useless for him to beat it again, he may now. d'^v after day, kill every bird on a piece of good feedin^ g jund, and will still each suc- ceeding morning find it supplied with its usual com- plement. I first learned this fact in Orange county, whero, 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 encircled 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 the brake, at throw- ing off in the morning, and bagged eleven fine fall birds — being four or five more than I expected — 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 sur- prised at bagging nine birds, all that were flushed, on the spot. Being quite certain that these were new comers, and the brake being a very pretty and easy place in which to get shots, and mark birds, I beat it regularly, either going out, or coming home, every day during my stay in the country, and bagged upon it, in all, sixty-three birds in six successive days. 216 FIELD SPORTS. ! Mi 'H i This is now very many years ago, but I noted the fact from its singularity at the time; and I have since ob- served, that in certain highly favoured places, this may be regularly looked for; and I would never recommend a sportsman, shooting late in the autumn, particiilarly after the nights have begun to be frosty, to decline try- ing a likely piece of ground, a second, or even a third or fourth time, because he has already swept it clear of Woodcock. It does not, of course, follow of all ground whatsoever; but of all that ground which is the most beloved by the bird, it is unquestionably true that it will be filled and refilled, many times in succession. This is certainly a curious fact, and one for which it is difficult to account, by any reasonable mode of ex- planation. The succession of so many birds, is in itself singular, it pot being at all apparent where is the reser- voir from which the current is supplied. It was not, in the case I have named, from other woods in the neigh- bourhood, 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 northward 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 neighbouring 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 supply of food, which renders it so favourite a haunt, should be exhausted ? Such, however, is invariably the case in such locali- ties, and I never but once in my life observed anything like a /ocA: of these birds. That once, in a very wet place, on the edge of a heavy swamp, where a large spring, which never freezes, bursts out and percolates through the vegetable soil for a distance of a hundred UPLAND SHOOTING. 217 yards or a little more, before gathering itself into a single channel; I saw at least a hundred birds rise within three minutes. It was very late in the season, the 6th or 8th of November, and sharp frost had already set in, and it was so late in the afternoon that it was almost dark. I was shooting with a friend, who had a young dog which could not be controlled from running in; and all the birds were flushed at two rises, each of us getting two double shots. The Woodcock settled down all over the large swamp, but it was too dark to follow them} and the next morning, it having been an in- tensely hard black frost at night, not a bird was to be found in the country. Had we come upon that flight earlier in the day, and with old, steady d ;gs, the sport might have been incalculable. I have always believed, however, that to be an in- stance of actual migration; and I am well satisfied all those birds had dropped in, from a long flight from the north, whence they had been expelled by the severe cold, with no intention of stopping longer than to recruit themselves by a single day's repose. After that night no more birds were seen in that part of the country, until the breaking of the ensuing winter. One other point appears to be worthy of remark, with regard to the autumnal migration of Cock, on their way southward, namely, that sometimes, particularly when the winter sets in unusually early and severe on the sea-board, and south of the mountains, the flight of Cook come down all nearly at once, and in one direction, avoiding whole ranges of country, and absolutely swarm- ing in other regions. A few seasons since, when the northern river counties, so far down as Rockland, were covered with snow, which lay two or three days, in the first week of October, no more Woodcock were found that autumn in that district, or in Eastern New Jersey, quite down to the sea, while they literally abounded on the eastern side of the Hudson, and were kiUed in pro- VOL. I. u , 218 FIELD SPORTS. ; ii: 1; fusion throughout Westchester, and even within a few miles of New York city. The cause of this, I suppose to be explicable thus, — that there is, in fact, always a two-fold migration of Woodcock in the autumn, that of the birds bred in these districts, which, having absented themselves during the moult, return immediately, that over, to the vicinity of their nesting-places, and remain throughout the autumn, — and that of the birds bred very far north of us, which tarry at the north so long as the weather will permit, and then visit us for a few days, more or less, according to the state of the country and the tempera- ture, but never make any protracted sojourn with us. In such a case as that which I have mentioned, the home-bred birds are probably driven southward at once by the temporary local snow-storm, vhile the northern flights, not having been forced to move, tarry till the last, and then hurry oiF, pitching only for a single day to rest themselves, and resuming their progress every night. Woodcock and Snipe both, it is hardly necessary to observe, are in a great measure nocturnal birds, and almost invariably make all their long voyages, and usually even their casual trips from one fet Jing-ground to another, between sunset and sunrise. I have occa- sionally seen Snipe travelling high in the air, in small whisps, during the daytime in foggy weather with small rain falling : but I I;av3 never !:nGwn Woodcock to move their quarters, unless violently aroused, until it is almost too dark to distinguish them on the wing. The weather, in which both these swift passengers love best to roam, is dull, hazy, and sometimes even rainy, and that commonly on the breaking of a north- easterly storm. This is particularly the case with the Snipe, and in the spring. In fact, I have never known them abundant on the meadows until after two or three days cold heavy rain, and there having been no such storm this present year, I attribute in a great measure, the extreme scarcity of Snipe. UPLAND SHOOTING. 219 It is a little singular, however* that, while these birds prefer thick and hazy weather, they almost always choose moonlight nights, and fly most when the moon is near the full. When the sportsman is so fortunate as to find himself favoured with the m )st delicious to the senses, and most lovely to the eye, of all weather, which we know as Indian Summer, at the full of the October moon, he may count himself almost certain of finding the coverts well stocked with Woodcock. I have fre- quently acted on this indication myself, and, in spite of being warned by letters from the country that Cock had not come on, have set out from the city, relying on the combination of the purple haze with the full October moon, veiled in soft silver for the nonce, and have rarely been disappointed of good sport. In all other respects, the pursuit of Woodcock, the mode of hunting them, and the style of killing them, differ in nothing rum from the methods to be used in summer. The birds are, of course, far stronger on the wing, as they are now full grown, and instead of dodging about in the bushes and dropping within twenty yards of the muzzle of a gun just discharged, will soar away over the tree-tops, and sometimes fly half a mile at a stretch. The difficulty of killing them, is therefore increased, although the absence of the green leaf affords a fairer view of them, and the man who makes a large bag must depend more on map shots than on fair chances over steady points. In this place it will not be improper to insert a slight notice and description of the mode generally adopted for the killing of Woodcock in Louisiana, Mississippi, and the other Southwestern States, by what is termed " Fire-hunting.*' This practice is resorted to, in some degree, as a matter of necessity, owing to the fact that, in these regions which are the favourite winter home of the bird in question, he frequents during the day only the most impracticable cane-brakes and morasses, from which L 2 220 FIELD SPORTS. E it is only by dint of the severest labour that he can be dislodged. Until very recently no other mode of shooting Wood- cock was practised at all in these states, as it was re- garded as impossible to pursue them with any success during the daytime, in their gloomy and difficult fast- nesses. Of late years, however, as might be expected, it has been demonstrated by good sportsmen, that Cock can be killed over Setters — Spaniels would doubtless be yet preferable — in those states, as elsewhere, and the correct, legitimate, and sportsmanlike method of hunt- ing them with dogs is of consequence, coming into vogue, soon, I doubt not, entirely to supersede the " Fire-hunting" system, which although it may be good fun enough, for once or twice, can only be regarded as a species of poaching, or pot-hunting; palliated or per- liaps in some sort legitimatized by the necessities of the case. Throughout this region as I have said, during the day this more than half nocturnal bird is not to be seen at all without the confines of the dense and tangled brakes on the edges of the deep bayous and morasses, never flying abroad into the open, and contenting itself with nibbling the mud, and picking up a little chance food in its lurking places. No sooner is it dark, however, than out the Wood- cocks come by thousands from their fastnesses, and pitch- ing down on all sides in the old fields and maize-stubbles, apply themselves to nibbling and boring in the soft, rich loam for their succulent worm-diet. Hereupon the fire-hunt commences — with gun and game-bag, powder-flask and shot-pouch,, and all appli- ances and means secundum artem, the sportman sallies forth; but no silky-haired, high-strung, sagacious Setter, no satin-skinned, r?t-tailed, obedient Pointer follows his master's heel. In lieu of Don or Sancho, an old, crafty, grizzled-pated, merry negro, comes forth, equip- ped with the brazen vessel of a warming-pan, or the like instrument, set erect on a pole of some ten or UPLAND SHOOTING. 221 twelve feet in length, filled with light wood, pine knots, or such like bright burning combustibles. Arrived on the feeding-ground, a light is applied; the quick fuel sends out a broad, ruddy glare; and, as the bearer slowly circumambulates the field, a circle of in- tense lustre is shed for ten yards around him, rendering every object more clearly visible than at noon-day. The shooter walks close to the fire-bearer, on his right hand, and ever and anon as the circular glare 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 illumina- tion. The next instant up it springs, dizzy and con- fused and soaring upward toward the light. It is seen for a second, and then is lost in the surrounding dark- ness; but of that one quick second the sportsman takes advantage ; and by a snap shot 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, it is evident, ex necessitate rei, and may for a while be sufficiently excit- ing. It must, however, lack all that variety, which is the great charm of our northern shooting; variety, which arises from the working of the emulous, obedient, and well-trained dogs, in observing whose exquisite instinct, fine attitudes, and beautiful docility, me judice, lies half the pleasure of field-sports; and which, toge- ther with the lovely scenery, the brisk, breezy air, and the exulting sense of personal independence, and per- sonal power, springing from these and from the glow of cheerful exercise, renders them to active, energetic, and enthusiastic minds 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, Woodcock, Ruffed ;; li 222 FIELD SPORTS. Grouse, Hare, Snipe, and some two or three varieties of Wild Duck. I have had many a good day's sport in many countries, but above everything that I have ever seen, or expect 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 perhaps be again, for a short time, when the Erie railroad shall first give us access to the southern tier of counties. Me judiccy there is nothing like it in the wild world. 111! i • V , QUAIL SHOOTING. I HAVE already^ under my list of Upland Game, given a full description of this lovely little bird from the pages of Audubon and Wilson. Both of these authors lean to the southern fashion of calling this bird a Partridge. Now the truth of the matter is simply this, that the bird in ques- tion is properly and accurately neither one nor the other, but a distinct species, possessing no English name whatever. The ornithological name of the Part- ridge is Perdix, of the Quail Coturnix, of the American bird, distinct from either, Ortyx. The latter being the Greek word, as Coturnix is the Latin word, meaning Quail. It is, of course, impossible to talk about killing OrtyxeSy or more correctly Ortyges, we must therefore, perforce, call these birds either Quail or Partridge. Now as both the European Partridges are consider- ably more than double the size of the American bird, as they are never in any country migratory ^ and as they differ from the Ortyx in not having the same woodland habits, in cry and plumage; while in size, and in being a bird of passage, the European Quail exactly resembles that of America ; resembling it in all other respects far more closely than the Partridge proper, I cannot for a moment hesitate in saying that the Ameri- can Quail, is the correct and proper English name for the Ortyx Viginiana, and I conceive that the natural- ists who first distinguished him from the Quail, with which he was originally classed, sanction this English nomenclature, by giving him 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 Partridge, and I shall ever hold that the question is entirely set at rest, and that the true name . > \ t 224 FIELD SPORTS. r ' . of this dear little bird in the vernacular is American Quail ; and his country has better reason to be proud of him, than she has of many of her sons who make much more noise in the world than our favourite Bob- White. While on this subject, I may observe — for the benefit of our northern sportsmen, many of whom I have heard positively assert that ths Quail is not migratory— that every where west of the Delaware he is as distinctly a bird of migration as the Woodcock, ani the farther west the more palpably so. Why he loses these habits with us of the Middle States I 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 descrip- tion, that our American Quail is a most beautiful little bird; but his beauties do not consist merely in his plumage, but in his gait, his pretty pert movements, his great vivacity, his joyous attitudes, his constant and cheerful activity. He is in all respects the most social, the merriest, and most amiable of. his tribe. During the breeding season, he alone, of the gallinaceous tribe, makes wood and mead resound with his shrill, merry whistle, whence our countryfolk have framed to him a name Bob-White, from some fancied similarity of sound, cheering his faithful partner during the toils of incubation. Afterward, when the bevies are collected, as he runs from the huddle in which he has passed the night, he salutes his brethren, perhaps thanks his Creator for the pleasant dawn, with the most cheerful noise that can be fancied, a short, quick, happy cheeping, "and seems to be," to borrow the words of the inimitable Audubon, I quote from memory alone, " the happiest little creature in the universe." The Quail is not only the most sociable of his tribe in reference to his fellows, but is by far the most tame- able and friendly in his disposition as regards the general enemy and universal tyrant, man. UPLAND SHOOTING. 225 In the winter season, when the ground is so deepl}^ covered with snow as to render it impossible for them to obtain their customary food, the seeds namely of the various grasses, which they love the most, or the grains which lie scattered in the stubbles, they come naturally into the vicinity of man's dwellings; and it is by no means an unusual sight to perceive them running about among the domestic fowls in the barn-yard, and flying up, if suddenly disturbed, to perch under the rafters of some barn or out-house, seemingly fearless, and confi- dent in such seasons, of protection. During the whole of last winter 1 had a bevy of thirteen birds, lying within three or four hundred yards of the room in which I sit writing, under the shelter of a rough wooded bank, whereon I fed them with buck- wheat after the heavy snows had fallen; and they became so tame, that they would allow me to approach within twenty paces of the spot where they were fed, running about and picking up the triangular seeds, per- fectly unconcerned at my presence. As soon, however, as the spring commenced, and the bevy separated them- selves into pairs, their wild habits returned upon them, and I have seen no more of my little friends. The Quail pairs in the month of March, or even earlier, if the winter has been a mild one, and the ground at that period is free from its snowy winter covering; if, on the contrary, the spring is very late and backward, his courtship is deferred until April. As soon as he has chosen to himself a mate, the happy pair retreat to wide, open, rushy meadows, where the conformation of the country affords them such retire- ment, among the tussocks of which they love to bask the spring sunshine. Wheij the land lies higher. m and is broken into knolls and gulleys, you will find them at this season on the grassy banks beside some sheltered hedge-row, or along the green and shrubby margin of some sequestered streamlet; but never in thick woodlands, and rarely in open fields. > Most birds, so soon as they have paired, proceed at L 3 \ 226 FIELD SPORTS. • ■!« Ill 'i once to the duties of nidification and the rearing of their young ; it seems to me, however, that the Quail spend some time in pairs before proceeding to this task; for I have frequently seen them in pairs so early as the 20th of March, yet I have never found the Hpti sitting, or a nest with eggs in it, during spring Snipe- shooting, though I have often flushed the paired birds on the same ground with the long-billed emigrants. I have never, indeed, seen a Quail's nest earlier than the middle of May, and have often found them sitting as late as the end of July. Their nest is inartificial, made of grasses, and situate for the most part under the shelter of a stump or tussock in some wild meadows, or near the bushy margin of some clover-field or orchard. The Hen lays from ten to two-and-twenty eggs, and is relieved at times in hatching them by the male bird ; who con- stantly keeps guard around her, now sitting on the bough of the nearest tree, now perched on the top rail of a snake fence, making the woods and hills resound with his loud and cheery whistle. The period of the Quail's incubation, I do not know correctly ; the young birds run the moment they burst from the egg; and it is not uncommon to see them tripping about with pieces of the shell adhering to their backs. The first brood hatched, and fairly on foot, the Hen proceeds at once to the preparation of a second nest ; and committing the care of the early younglings to her mate, or rather dividing with him the duties of rearing the fir: t, and hatching the second bevy, she devotes herself incessantly to her maternal duties. So far as I can ascertain, the Quail almost invariably raises a second, and sometimes, I believe, even a third brood in a single season. Hence, if unmolested, they in- crease with extraordinary rapidity, when the seasons are propitious. It is, however, equally certain that, under other circumstances, they suffer more severely in this region of country than any other bird of game ; and UPLAND SHOOTING. 227 that in unfavourable seasons they run great danger of being altogether annihilated. Tne fear of this result has led to what I consider hasty and inconsiderate legislation on the subject. Long severe snows, when the country is buried many feet deep, and he can procure no sustenance save from the precarious charity of man, famishes him outright — heavy drift:', especially when succeeded by a partial tha^', and a frost following the thaw, sti£es him, in whole bevies encased in icy prison-houses. It is the peculiar habit of this bird to lie still, squatted in concentric huddles, as they are technically called, composed of the whole bevy, seated like the radii of a circle, with their tails inward, so long as snow, sleety or rain continues to fall. So soon as it clears off, and the sun shines out, with a simultaneous effort, pro- bably at a preconcerted ?»' ^nal, they all spring up at once with an impetus and rush so powerful, as carries them clear through b snow-drift many feet in depth ; unless it be skinned over by a frozen crust, which is not to be penetrated by their utmost efforts. In this latter case, where the storm has been general over a large extent of country, the Quail are not unfrequently so near to extinction that but a bevy or two will be seen for years on ground where previously they have been found in abundance ; P.nd at such times, if they be not spared and cherished, as they will be by all true sportsmen, they may be destroyed entirely throughout a whole region. This was the case especially through all this section of the country in the tremendous winter of 1 835 — 36, when these birds, which had been previously very abundant, were almost annihilated ; and would have been so, doubtless, but for the anxiety whicl. was felt generally, and the energetic means which were taken to preserve them. Another peril which at times decimates the breed for a season, is a sudden and violent land-flood in June and July, which drowns the young broods ; or a con- 228 FIELD SPORTS. tinuance of cold, showery weather in those and the preceding months, which addles the eggs and destroys the early bevy. This is, however, but a partial evil, — as the Quail rears a second brood, and, as I have before observed, sometimes a third ; so that in this case the number of birds for the season is diminished, without the tribe being endangered. i* . f v:. The open winters, which have prevailed latterly, have been exceedingly favourable to the increase of this beautiful and prolific little bird. Never, perhaps, have they been more abundant than they v/ere last autumn ; and as the winter has been in all respects the most propitious ever known, there having been scarcely a single fall of snow of any magnitude, and no jrust in any instance to molest tisem, there is every likelihood of a fine stock next autumn being raised throughout the Middle States. A little judicious legislation — a little energy combined with careful consideration of the subject, and mutual concession on the part of true sportsmen, might pos- sibly now preserve this very interesting native American from the total extinction that threatens him. It is quite clear that neither idle good wishes, nor faineant despair, will do so. One bad winter, and the present state of things will settle the question for us, — but the wrong way ! Unlike the young broods of the Woodcock, which are mute, save the twitter with which they rise, the bevies of Quail appear to be attached to each other by tender affection. If dispersed by accidental causes, either in pursuit of their food or from being flushed by some casual intruder, so soon as their first alarm has passed over, they begin calling to each other with a small plaintive note, quite different from the amorous whistle of the male bird, and from their merry daybreak cheeping ; and, each one running toward the sound, and repeating it at intervals, they soon collect themselves together into one happy little family, the circle of which remains unbr ken until the next spring, with the genial UPLAND SHOOTING. 229 weather, brings matrimoniai ardours, pairing and court- ship, and the hope of future bevies. If, however, the ruthless sportsman ha<' been among them with his \\ ell-trained Setter and unerring gun, so that death has sorely thinned their numbers, they will protract their little call for their lost comrades, even to night-fall ; and in such cases — I know not if it be a fancy on my part — there has often seemed to me to be an unusual degree of melancholy in their wailing whistle. Once this struck me especially. I had found a small bevy of thirteen birds in an orchard, close to the house in which I was passing a portion of the autumn, and in a very few minutes killed twelve of them, for they lay hard in the tedded clover, and it was perfectly open shooting, '^he thirteenth and last bird, rising with two others, which 1 killed right and left, flew but a short distance, and dropped among some sumachs in the cor- ner of a rail fence. I could have shot him certainly enough, but some undefined feeling induced me to call my dogs to heel, and spare his little life ; yet afterward I almost regretted what I certainly at the time intended to be mercy ; for day after day, so long as I remained in the country, I heard his sad call, from morn till dewy eve, crying for his departed friends, and full appa- rently of memory, which is, alas ! but too often another name for sorrow. • It is a singular proof how strong is the passion for the chase, and the love of pursuit, implanted by nature in the heart of man, that however much, when not in- fluenced by the direct heat of sport, we deprecate the killing of these little birds, and pity the individual sufferers, — the moment the dog points, and the bevy springs, or the propitious morning promises good sport, all the compunction is forgotten in the eagerness and emulation which are natural to our race. It is also worthy of remark, that in spite of his appa- rent tameness at peculiar seasons, and his willingness to be half naturalized, the Quail has hitherto defied all attempts at perfect domestication, and has, I believe, 230 FIELD SPORTS. never been known to breed in confinement, — this pecu- liarity going, perhaps, some way to render him fair game. Of all birds, in this or any other country, so far as I know from personal experience, or have heard from others more competent to pronounce on the subject, the Quail is the most difficult both to find and to kill with certainty. Bred in the open fields, and feeding early in the morning, and late in the afternoon, on buckwheat and other grain stubbles, during all the rest of the day, the bevies lie huddled up together 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 indolently digesting their morning meal, renders it very easy for the best dogs to pass within six yards of them, without discovering their whereabout ; and, con- sequently, even where the country is well stocked with bevies, 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 flushed in the open, these birds imme- diately 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 impunity 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 quality, which renders them exceedingly nfficult to find, even when they have been accurately marked down after being once flushed. It is, that for some considerable time after they have alighted, they give forth no scent what- soever, and that the very best dogs will fail to give any signs of their presence. UPLAND SHOOTING. 231 B 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 would lead to the conclu- sion that it is voluntary, or at least that the bird is conscious of the fact. This is, that under these circum- stances the birds will not rise at all until they are literally almost trodden upon. It was very long before I could bring myself to believe in the existence of this singular power of suppression ; and very many times, after having marked down a bevy to a yard in favour- able 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 me, when I am satisfied, had I waited half an hour before proceeding to beat for them, I might have had good spoit. I will here observe, that although Quail 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 rarely when pursued, and then rather in consequence of some particular habit of a single bevy, than of any natural instinct of the bird. Once again— and I have done with the difficulties of finding — particular bevies, endowed with that singular craft, which approaches so very nearly to reason, that it hardly can be distinguished therefrom, will fly when flushed, invariably for many days and weeks in succes- sion, to some one small out-of-the-way nook, or clump of briars, so long as that nook is undiscovered, thus baffling all attempts to find them. In one instance, while shooting in the vale of War- wick , 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 stream side, wher« he had observed that they often roosted. Accordingly we went to the place, and had not gone I 'll i ! . 232 FIELD SPORT«. 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. \Ve got in our four barrels, and killed four birds handsomely ; and marked the birds over the corner of a neighbouring wood, lowering their flight so rapidly, that we had no doubt of finding them on a buckwheat stub- ble, surrounded by thick sumach bushes, and briary hedges, which lay just beyond the grove. We hunted till it was quite dark, however, without moving the birds. On going out the next morning, we drew the bogs blf»nk, and it became evident that they had roosted in the place, wherever it was, to which they had flown, on being disturbed. We set off^, therefore, again in tliat direction, hoping to find them on their feeding-ground, but spent the greater part of the morning trying for them in vain. We then took our dogs in a different direction ; and after a day's sport — whether good, bad, or indifferent, I do not now remember — again found our bevy in the same bogs, — killed a brace of them only, in ?onsequence of their rising wild, and the evening having grown dark, and again marked them over the same wood cor- ner — the birds literally flying over the top of the very same crimson maple which they had crossed the pre- vious evening. It was too late to look farther after them that night, and I knew that they would be in the bogs on the following morning, — we took, therefore, a different beat, and heard no more of my bevy. On the third day, however, liMng piqued by the escape of these birds, I determinail to spare no pains to find their hiding-places. We proceeded accordingly to the bogs, the first thing in the Booming, found them before they had quitted their roo«L. and drove them for the third time over the top of the tnie rcl maple. These birds, be it observed, were on , ly old com- panion's own farm, everv inch of which we knew tho- roughly, and on whicli tl '^t%. was liOt a brakt or tuft of UPLAND SHOOTING. MS 3 rushes likely to harbour a single bird, much less a bevy, with which we were not acquainted. 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 was walking down the side 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 mouth of an old cellar, over which a cottage had stood in past days, up whirled a bevy uf Quail, and away over the very same tree-top, 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 thither, probaljly, in the first instance, by the apples which had fallen into the hollow from the trees over- head. 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, wher« we originally found them. Some time had elapsed, and they had run toge- ther into a single knot, rose *ga) n very wild, and flew directly back to the old hidin^place. Thither we followed them at once, flushed them therein, proving most unequivocally that they had always lain perdu 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 we found them con- stantly in different parts of the bog meadow, neither as a body, nor as single birds, did they ever betake them- selves again to the cellar for refuge. Hiki I not accidentally blundered on that place, when think I ng of anything rather than of the birds, I might hav« bunted for a month over the ground without find- ing them. From the cavity, and the narrowness of the \ PI '- !i 1 1! I ; 234 FIELD SPORTS. /• t mouth, a dog might have gone within a yard of it with- out scenting them ; and I have no doubt that mine had been more than once within that distance of them. And here I have done with the difficulty of finding, which by the 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, the 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 the shooter, I have often seen even tolerably good shots discharge both their barrels fruitlessly, from doing so much too quickly. This is not, however, by any means the difficulty to which I allude, as an old and steady shot is of course presumed to be proof against such tremors; and in the open field, under ordinary circumstances, ought generally to kill his double shot out of every bevy that is pointed and flushed within fifteen or twenty paces. The case becomes, however, altogether different after the birds have become scattered in coppice, or yet worse, in high saplings, the very thickest part of which they most affect, after being once disturbed. There is no bird which I have ever seen that can in the slightest degree compare with the Quail for the rapidity with which it takes wing, and the short space which it requires to get under full headway. It really is wonderful to observe the extraordinary speed and command of wing with which this bird will dart through the most intricate and tangled brake, yet I have never seen a single instance of their flying foul of a tree or getting entangled in a thicket, as will sometimes happen to the Ruffed Grouse, and much more frequently to the European Pheasant. The Quail flies, as I have said, with extreme rapidity in a direct line, rather ascending for the most part, but rarely or never dodging and pitching to and fro like a Snipe or Woodcock. It has a habit likewise if not UPLAND SHOOTING. 235 pointed; of lying hard until you have passed it, and then flirting up behind your back ; in which case your first intimation of its whereabout is the sharp whirr of its wing, and you must bestir yourself hastily indeed, yet coolly withal^ and you must have the eye of instinct, and the nerve of steel, to cut him down handsomely under such circumstances. It may be added to this catalogue of difficulties, that in flying yroOT you, as the Quail does in a great majority of cases, he presents to the aim of the sportsman a vital centre little largar than a cent piece, with two radii formed by the slender pinions, in which small target four or five shot must be lodged to bring him down with any certainty; so that it will not appear remarkable if, with a gun that scatters its charge, even a good shot miss this bird even at a short range ; and that at thirty or forty paces the very best guns, aimed with perfect precision, fail frequently of killing clean. The Quail is a very brave bird, moreover. He will carry oflF a great quantity of shot, if noi, lodged in a vital part, and will frequently, even when mortally wounded, particularly if shot through the brain or heart, and going before the wind, fly till life leaves him in mid air, and even after that will be propelled by the rapidity of his previous motion and the buoyancy of his still- extended wings, for many yards farther in a descending line. A singular instance of this occurred to myself while shooting in the Highlands of the Hudson, nearly oppo- site to West Point, with two fiiends, in November, 1839. We were beating a bare field on one of the lower hills of that chain, in which were several shallow ravines lying nearly parallel to each other, pointing transversely downward. I was in the lowest of three gulleys with a brace of dogs, and perhaps a hundred yards in advance of my companions, each of whom, with one dog, was making good another parallel gorge. The wind was blowing keenly and coldly on our I ^ 236 FIELD SPORTS. backs, and before us lay a long range of open fields sloping steeply toward the river, with a piece of young woodland, bounded by a stone wall on the hither side, beyond them. •• '^ v Finding no game myself, I was suddenly put on the alert by the quick shout, " Mark ! mark \" from behind, somewhat to my left ; and in the next moment a large bevy of birds, which had been raised by my friends, and circled round my back, passed me within twenty paces to the right. It struck me at the time, that I never had seen birds fly so fast ; they had already traversed sufficient space to have gained the full momentum of their own velocity, and had in their favour all the impetus that the swift wind, directly before which they were flying, could give them. I was shooting with a gun that carries its shot very closely, and that loaded with Eley's patent car- tridge, which are proj)elled full one-third farther and more strongly than loose shot ; and to conclude, I was perfectly cool, and making allowance for the distance and velocity of the birds, fired both barrels. To my infinite disgust, neither bird fell, and 1 need not add, to the infinite mirth of my companions, who accused me of missing two perfectly fair shots in the open. I replied, thereby greatly increasing their merriment, that I had not missed either bird, and that I had hit both in front of the wing, that is to say in the most vital part of the body; at which they laughed ineffably; but in the end it turned out as usual, that the last laugher has the best of it. For, to proceed, we marked the bulk of the bevy into the woodland I have mentioned, at least a quarter of a mile down wind, and followed them thither. But on arriving at the stone wall which bounded it on the nearer side, both my dogs stood almost simul- taneously, and immediately retrieved the two birds I had shot at, perfectly dead, but both warm, and both bleeding from the bill. The shots I fired were the first shots fired that UPLAND SHOOTING. 237 morning, consequently they must have been my birds, and they had flown after being mortally struck, above a quarter of a mile, and would probably have flown con- siderably farther, skimming close to the ground, had not the stone wail, against which I have no doubt they struck, brought them up at last. From curiosity I kept the two birds apart, and on picking them found in one five, in the other seven, No. 8 shot in the neck and breast in front of the wing. The comparative size of No. 8 shot to a Quail, is about that of grape-shot to a man ; and to judge of the tenacity of life and muscular motion, we must imagine a man running half a mile at the top of his pace with seven grape shot, as big as a moderate-sized plum, through his neck and the cavity of the sternum — a thing palpably impossible ! We will now proceed to the consideration of the means of overcomii.r. ? ^se difficulties, and the best method of carrying on ■ '•., pleasant and exciting pursuit of this beautiful little bird. From the greater difficulty of finding and killing Quail, it follows of course that a greater combination of qualities in the dog with which we hunt them is required. For Snipe or Woodcock-shooting, the latter espe- cially, which is pursued in very close covert for the most part, we require only a dog with good hunting qualities, under excellent command, broke to hunt ex- tremely close to his matter, and never to go beyond the range of his sight. Indeed if he do not hang upon the stale scents, and potter where birds have been, but are not, a dog for Woodcock-shooting can hardly be too slow or too steady. Now all these qualities are essential likewise to the Quail dog, and without these qualities the sportsman cnn have no success when he has attained the first object of his morning's work, the driving and scattering his birds from open grain or grass-fields into covert wherein they will lie hard, and rise singly, which con- Ill 1 1 I'll " ■.fi::il 238 FIELD SPORTS. stitute the only circumstances under which, north of the Delaware and Potomac, it is possible to bag many Quail. Yet this is far from all that we require in a Quail dog J for as we are compelled to seek for our birds in the open feeding-grounds, while they are running in the early morning, and i our day's sport mainly depends on finding a considerable number of birds during that short time, which ends at the latest by 10 o'clock in the morning, and earlier in warm, sunny days, it follows that the more ground we can get over in a given time^ the greater the chance of success. We require, therefore, that our brace of dogs while beating open ground should have dash and speed enough to run almost like foxhounds on a breast-high scent, heads up and sterns down, quartering the field from fence to fence in opposite directions, and crossing each other midway — that they should be so staunch and steady as to allow the shooter to come up to them from five or six hundred yards' distance, without breaking their point — and lastly, that they should be under com- mand so perfect, that on getting into covert they 'shall cross and recross their ground fifty times, never budging twenty yards from the feet of their master, ami working as slowly as the slowest Cock-dog. It will be seen at once that 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 not seen ^.en equally good on Quail. I shall not touch here on the comparative and much disputed excellence of the Pointer or Setter, except to observe that personally I greatly prefer the latter; while I admit that for persons who shoot but rarely, and who do not like the 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 239 ; seen :ben with the staunchest Pointers, and which were as careful and under as good command 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 ruarters 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 then, let him see bis dogs, which we will sup- pose have run some part of their journey afoot, well suppered on mush, 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 potations to the second glass, and eschew a second pipe 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 make great men in any line, and in our case good sportsmen. Lastly, let him assure himself before retiring to rest, 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 be wise, he will discard the suspected linen, and turn in between the blankets. On getting up in the morning, all ablutions duly performed, it will be necessary to provide for the need- ful operation of breaking fast ; and this must neither be neglected, for no man cpa take exercise with impunity on an empty stomach : nor must it be done too luxu- riously, for as certainly 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 execution from any country tavern, if one waits until a hot breakfast is prepared. My method, there- fore, is to take with me a cold ham, or a cold hunters' round, and to have the table laid over-night, in addition 240 FIELD SPORTS. Pli to that, with bread, butter, and cold milk, on which, for my part, I can breakfast very satisfactorily. This done, if you know the country, go to the place where are the most and likeliest grain stubbles lying near to good woodland, or coppice covert, and beat them regularly, in such a manner that the woods shall be down-wind of your beat. Let your dogs, however, beat every field up-v, 1, by which means they will scent their birds one-i /u farther than if you go down- wards. Look especially to the sides of the fields, particularly if they are bushy ; Quail do not affect the middle even of the stubbles on which they feed. If your dogs trail a running 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 so very staunch that you can defend 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 squat on finding itself enclosed between the dog and the gun, and thus afford good shooting. If you drive a good bevy of Quail into good covert, be not in haste to follow. It will stay there, be sure ; and you will find them far more certainly after half an hour has elapsed. For myself, I have found it the best plan, where woods are small, and the covert thick, to go on beating the open fields, without following the bevies at all, in the first instance, marking them down carefully 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 soon 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 hiding-places, and he may hunt the wood-skirts, and brush-holes, all day UPLAND SHOOTING. 241 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 ii is pretty much chance work, bog meadows, brown bushes on southerly and westerly hill-sides, old pastures with mujh bent and ragwort, and the skirts of coppices, are generally the best ground, though in some regions they will be found in large open woodlands. In the afternoon, soon after 4 o'clock, the bevies again begin to run and feed, and in this part of the day they will frequently be met running along 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 fiiding his bevies on the feeding-ground in the morn- ing — if he know 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 afternoon, when he will very often make up for lost time, and make a heavy bag when circum- stances 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 born ; but most persons, with good eyesight, and steady nerves, may attain to respectability, if not excellence, in this gentle- manlike and manly art. To this end, practice and coolness are the great desi- derata. Rules, I think, avail little, if anything. I have seen men shoot excellently, who closed one eye to take aim — excellently who shot with both open, — never, however, I must admit, decently, who shut both — not, by the way, a very uncommon occurrence with begin- ners. I have seen men again shoot excellently, carry- VOL. I. M \ i ■m 242 FIELD SPORTS. /•I iiig 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 san shoot well in covert, or at snap shots, who follows his bird with his gun, or dwells on his aim— the first sight is always the best; and it is deliberate promp- titude in catching this first sight which alone constitutes — what my poor friend, J. Cypress, Junior, used to call the rarest work of nature — a truly cool, truly quick, C7'ack shot. - , With regard to hunting-dogs on Quail, there is a great deal to be said; and in nothing is the true and thorough- bred sportsman more distinctly marked from 'he 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 requiring the greatest natural qualifications, and most perfect training in the dog, demands 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 England more in the second particular. It were scarce too much to say, that four sportsmen, in their own opinion, here, out of five, know so little what are the requisite performances 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 from failing to exercise his abilities, and punish his eccentricities. As in all other tuition, reward and punishment must both be brought into play ; but it is a great thing to remember that, while a dog should never be allowed to disobey an order, or to commit a fault unpunished, it is well neither to harass him by unnecessary commands, nor to tempt into faults by over-exaction. Moreover, a dog cannot be managed with too little UPLAND SHOOTING. 243 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 sounds turning his head to observe the gesture of your hand, by which he 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 speedy 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 further comment. If, therefore, a Setter, or Pointer, is broke to lie down immediately 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 Bar.han, as is the practice of most dog-breakers, and all cockney sports- men, will be entirely obviated. The advantages of which will be, that you will not flush four-fifths of 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 ^ 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 invari- ably carried 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 of the first, the real utility will be greatly diminished by too frequent application. I shall have farther occasion to speak of the manage- M 2 mi 244 FIELD SPORTS. r \ ment of dogs, and indeed of the habits and mode of shooting Quail likewise, under the head of " General Autumn Shooting," which will follow the few remarks I shall proceed to make on Pinnated and Ruffed Grouse- shooting, as practised apart from the pursuit of other game. !* ,..J'*i I'M RUFFED GROUSE SHOOTING. VuLGo,— PARTRIDGE SHOOTING. It was my misfortune once — once only, gentle reader — in my life, to be seduced into undertaking an excur- sion very late in the season, a few days only before Christmas, into the interior of Connecticut, for the especial purpose of shooting the Ruffed Grouse, or as it is there termed, Partridge. I went on the representation cf a friend, who while Cock-shooting on that ground, early in the autumn, before the leaves were down, had moved an immense number of these birds, which were then in broods with the old hen. He assured me, as he fully expected would prove the case, that we should certainly get twenty or thirty fair shots each, daily; and in consequence I looked for great sport. The result was, that, although we had two brace of as good Setters as any i.i the country, and fagged steadily and resolutely during four successive days, we bagged seven birds between us; two only over points; and cer- tainly did not fire altogether, at snap shots and long range, above ten or eleven shots. On other occasions, once or twice, T have been pers laded, 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. The Ru.ffed Grouse, after the broods have separated and left the hens, are the wildest and most wary birds I have ever pursued, when the '"oody nature of the haunts which they affect is taken into consideration. They have also the most rambling habit of any American game-bird, except the Turkey ; it not being an uncom- mon thing for the single birds^ or the small companies 246 FIELD SPORTS. r I \ into which they sometimes form themselves, to wander on th3 foot, without taking wing at all, ten or twelve miles at a stretch, over rough hills and through deep woodlands. Add to this, that their favourite reSorts are the steep ledgy sides of rocky hills, covered with thick wood, and that generally of evergreens, as pine, hemlock, or red cedar, with an undergrowth of the great mountain rhododendron, commonly known as laurel. It is the great characteristic of this sort 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 greatest difficulty in seeing his birds, the birds have none whatever in seeing him or his dogs. ITiey conse- quently start on the full run — and he who has tried to secure one when wing-tipped or slightly wounded, with- out the aid of dog, knows what pace that is — the moment the sportsman enters the wood; and after keeping the dogs trailing and roading on their scent for a mile or two, either flap up unperceived 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, finding themselves un- able to run, and will lie, on such occasions, till they are literally kicked up. I have never, in all my experience of shooting in this country, seen this occur but twice ; and in fact the bird is so seldom found in lowland country, that I consider it utterly useless to go in pursuit of Ruffed Grouse, UPLAND SHOOTING. 247 '• except as an adjunct with other birds of bolder and freer wing. One of the instances I have alluded to above, is per- haps not unworthy of notice, as I believe it to be almost unique ; for I have met no sportsman who has seen anything of the sort occur with the Ruffed Grouse, though with the Prairie Hen it often happens. It occurred 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 forsaken the country. I was beating for game in general, but rather with a view to Cock than any other bird, in a long narrow swale, be- tween a steep ridge and an open meadow, along the edge of which my companions was walking, while I myself made good the whole width of the alder copice 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 up 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 cook 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 ail rules of sportsmanship, 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 him over the open meadow, both of which he must have killed had he reserved his fire, as he should have done, while the third followed 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 which they lay, I made some observation to my companion about his rashness in firing; when three more birds whirred out of the same bush in quick succession, and of course got away unshot at, all our i I I'll I iM 248 FIELD SPORTS. barrels being empty. After I had loaded, yet an eighth bird got up a few yards ahead, having crept out, I imagine, while the dogs were at down charge, and I was fortunate enough to kill it also; thus bringing four Ruffed Grouse to a bag, which were sprung by one, or very nearly so, out of a thicket less than thirty feet in circumference. We ought certainly to have got one more bird, at least; and had we been as silent as we should, might possibly have bagged them all, for they ail 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 pro- priety, and great gain, of attending strictly to the most minute rules of sportsmanship and woodcraft ; like laws of military tactics, they can never be violated with im- punity; and though we observe 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 benefit of a remarkable feat ; because, being in busi- ness, it might injure him among the gentry of the street, who think no hunting but dollar-hunting respectable t who actually brought to bag eight Pinnated Grouse, in succession, without himself moving from his ground, or his dog breaking his point. This occurred some years since on Martha's Vineyard ; but, as I have observed before, I know no authentic instance of the Ruffed Grouse ever lying in the : me manner, after the separa- tion of the broods. Bef, -e that period, they of course lie to the dog as the Giuail, the Prairie Hen, or the Grouse of the British Isles. Hence, I consider the day fixed by our legislature for the end of the 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 occa- sionally will do in the spring, when eating the young buds, of which it is extremely fond, will allow the UPLAND SHOOTING. 249 . whole flock to be shot down, one by one, without stirring, provided that the shooter takes the precaution of shooting that which sits liie lowest on the tree first, is as fabulous as it is on the face ridiculous. '- Mr. Audubon notes this fact, with his wonted accu- racy ; adding, that during heavy snow storms he has sometimes killed three or four. This is credible enough ; starvation will make any bird or beast tame, and snow appears, when falling, to have a peculiar effect on birds , of this order — unlike rain, which makes them wild — rendering them very unwilling to rise. Savages in this region of country — I can designate them by no other name — often shoot whole bevies of Quail while huddled together on the ground in their little circles during snow-storms, 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 uphold them, and all who practise them, to the contempt and abhorrence of every one who would be termed a sportsman. I have been told that these birds exist in such abund- ance on the Kaatskills, and in all that region of coun- try, that it is well worth the while to go out in pursuit of them, without reference to, or rather 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 hy the fact that many scores were offered to me for purchase, which had been snared ; yet it was impos- sible to get shots at them over dogs. 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 pick up a brace or two in the course of a day, and this is probably more than the best M 3 250 FIELD SPORTS. i„ sportsman living can effect with the best dogs; but that is not sport for sportsmen ! The Ruffed Grouse is a singularly handsome bird, whether on the ground or on the wing ; looking, from the looseness and downy habit of his feathers, consi- derably 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 accurate an ob- server 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 ele- vation for several hundred yards ; after which it will set both its wings, and sail dead before the wind with im- mense velocity. To kill the Ruffed Grouse when thus skating down wind, as it crosses you, having been flushed at a distance, it is necessary to allow a consi- derable 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' distance. Going directly away from the gun, the Ruffed 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. It 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 f'f off, is easily killed, as the bird affords a fair mark, and will not carry off 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 tending 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 251 in every part of the country, but in the woodland and forest counties especially, Dorsetshire, Devonshire, parts of Essex, the New Forest, throughout Wales, and in many districts of the North Country, and Scotland, it would very soon become abundant. Indeed, the hedge-rows would be sufficient to hold it everywhere ; and from what I have seen, and stated above, of its habits in the low grounds here, I do not doubt that it would there afford sport equal to any English bird, ex- cept 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 should 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 pre- vent 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 bread sauce and fried crumbs, — any sort of jelly or sweet condiment, with any galli- naceous fowl, or any meat that is not immoderately fat and luscious 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 passant 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 slighest possible soupcon 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 the French cooks, who never know how to cook any sort of game, except in salmis or the like, of blanketing these birds in pork fat, cut thin, before roasting them, is of course entirely wrong. It prevents the grand desideratum, namely, the searing of the skin, so as to make it contain the natural juices, and instead of its own game gravy, saturates it with the essential oil of pig. 252 FIELD SPORTS. The epicure will prefer the back-bone and thighs of this delicious bird, and, by saving them for himself, he will also gain the credit of great disinterestedness from the ladies and the snobSy — heaven forbid that I should intend a comparison in thus uniting them ! but it is a fact that they both invariably prefer the bosom, as I believe it is the fashion of these modest days to term the white meat. For the benefit of what the ?rt.ich are pleased to call Amphitryons, the excellent men who are rich enough to give good dinners, and of the happy men who are allowed to eat them, 1 will add, that red wine is the thing with game of all kinds. The right thing of all is Chambertin, or clos de Vougeot! but, in default of these, a sound Lafitte or Latour claret is excellently well in place. Champagne is not the thing in the least; and, for those who aspire to feed themselves or their friends creditably, without aiming at the expense of the costly French red wines, allow me to suggest, that a glass of good old sherry is perfectly allowable with game. Except 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 finding it gnostically, is undoubtedly knowing how to set it on the table, for the benefit of your friends, in perfection, and with the proper accessories ; and a hint or two on this subject may be pardoned, even in u work on field sports, — especially where such abominations are practised, as eating Snipe and Woodcock hiffhj drawing the trail and broiling them, and eating currant or plum jelly with roast Grouse, or cranberries with venison. Nothing in my ey«.s is more contemptible than the man who cannot rough it upon occasion, — who cannot dine heartily, and with a relish, on a bit of salt pork and a crust 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. UPLAND SHOOTING. 253 In the code of gaine-cookery, the gridiron is an article of the kitchen prohibited^ unless in the case of a venison steak, a Bear chop, or a Wild Duck. To broil a Quail, or a Grouse, irnch more a Snipe, or a Woodcock, ought to be made — like frying a beefsteak — death without benefit of clergy. ! f -^ GROUSE SHOOTING. This noble sport I have never myself had an oppor- tunity of enjoying, though I still live in tbe hope of finding myself on some fine autumna) aiorning'. in the Western Prairies, with two or three brace of good dogs, a staunch companion, and all appurtenances s'uJ table for a month sport. They are in all respects the noblest bird which is to be shot over Pointeri^ In the Unite i:! States ; and the vast numbers in which they are stili iound in their own Prairie land, the magnifies. k: range of country which is spread oui before tlie eye of the sportsman, the open- ness of the shooting, and the opportunity of observing f 11 the motions of the dogs, must render this sport, like Red Grouse-shooting in Great Britain, the queen of AnMrican field-sports. In the State of New Jersey, it is said that a few birds still linger among the sandy pine barrens, along the southti a shore, but if so, they have become so rare, that it is worse than useless to attempt hunting for them. On the brush plains of Long Island they were entirely extinct, even before my arrival in America. Among the scrub oaks in the mountains of Pike and Northampton counties, in Eastern Pennsylvania, a few packs are supposed to be bred yearly, and a few sports- men are annually seduced into the attempts to find them. But annually the attempt is becoming more and more useless, and anything approaching to sport is absolutely hopeless. Many years ago I spent a week among the forest land northward of Milford, and with no success whatever, not so much as seeing a single bird. In Martha's Vineyard they are so strictly preserved. UPLAND SHOOTING. 255 that I have never taken the trouble of travelling thither on the chance of obtaining permission to shoot at them, although I am well aware that there are sportsmen from New York who resort thither yearly in pursuit of them. ' Oil the barrens of Kentucky, where they formerly abounded, as in the Eastern States, they have become c'tinci und, in truth, unless the sportsman is prepared to travel so far as Chicago, St. Joseph's, or St. Louis, he has not much chance of obtaining anything to reward his pains, in the way of Grouse-shooting; and it is, perjiaps, worth observing, that in the present advanced sttitc of internal communication with the Western Country, there is no real difficulty, and no great expense, in the way of the adventurer who would try his fortune on the Heath-Hen in its own wild haunts. The facilities of steamboat travel are particularly favour- able to the transportation of dogs; and it would, doubt- less, well repay a party to set off at any time after the 1st of September, with a strong kennel, for the prairies. This Grouse breeds early, the nest being generally finished on the 1st of May; the eggs are rarely more than twelve in number, the hen sits eighteen or nine- teen days, and the young run so soon as they are hatched. This species never raises a second brood, unless the first is destroyed. About the first of August the young are about equal in size to the Quail, and are, I regret to say, at that age, and a little older, butchered, and pronounced excellent eating by men who take the name of sportsmen. A writer in the " Turf Register," under the title of " Tom Trigor," a fellow of infinite humour, and of so very correct opinions on a great variety of topics, that I marvel at this practice in regard to Grouse, discourses thus on the habits and modes of shooting this bird, as he understands them: — " Well then," says he, " these noble birds early in September, or even so soon as late in August, who have whooped, and strutted, and trumpeted the live-long spring and summer, the undisturbed possessors of the , \ t 256 FIELD SPORTS. \ prairies, are now leading about their broods, some three-quarter parts grown, and they are at no time in better condition for broiling, the most delicate spring chickens yielding to them in flavour; and, at the same time, their behaviour in the field is far more satisfactory, and accommodating, than at any other period of their lives. They now, when once they bava scattered, stick to their concealment in the long grass, till you kick them up with your foot, and the amount you can then bag, need be limited only by your forbearance or your industry." In my humble opinion, " Tom Trigor's " gastronomy and his sportsmanship are about on a par, both ex- ecrable. The man who would broil a Grouse at all, when he could possibly cook it otherwise, or who could compare it Ijy way of praise with a spring chicken, must have about as much idea of the qualities of game on the table, as he who thinks they are in perfection for shoot- ing, when they are too weak to rise on the wing. I should think their conduct would be more satisfactory yet, to such a gunner, before they could fly at all. Seriously speaking, from all the really good sports- men with whom I have spoken on Grouse-shooting, I learn that the defect in the sport consists in the extra- ordinary tameness of the bird, and the infinite facility of knocking it down at the commencement of the season, — the killing, in fact, partaking almost the cha- racter of butchery. To quote once more from the writer above cited : — " Let the gnostics preach about its being not * sports- manlike, and unhandsome, to knock down more birds than you can consume.' I'll make out, when I can, my twenty brace notwithstanding; and I have never seen Grouse yet at such a discount, at this season of the year, but what all that could be killed could be con- sumed; and, if I haply should a little overstock the market, there is no fear of thinning off the tribe, for their name is legion, and the farmers will not grieve when they reflect that there will be, at any rate, by so UPLAND SHOOTING. 257 much the fewer depredators on their corn-fields next autumn and winter, when it may truly be said, they are fruges consumere nati. Moreover, we must make the most of them now, for in six weeks they will change their character and habits so entirely, that by no inge- nuity can we possibly get near enough for a shot; and the devils, though they now tumble over on the recep- tion of two or three No. 8 shot, will then carry off as much lead as a Galena steambon^. It is astonishing how difficult the full-grown birds are to kill, — I have known them, when riddled with No. 4 shot, to fly entirely out of sight and leave you bending forward your neck, in hopes that as you have knocked off feathers enough, as it would seem, to fill a bolster, that straight and rapid flight must soon alter; but no, on goes the l)ird in a * bee line,' till his figure melts into thin air," &c. It is, indeed, sorry work, when a man who writes so very well, and who seems to possess very many of the genuine ideas and feelings of a sportsman, should con- descend to promulgate such mischievous nonsense as the above. I note this the more willingly, because to such selfish sophistry, on the part of sportsmen, more than half the difficulty of preserving game is directly ascribable. For who, if the sportsman shoots out of season, because it is easier to kill half-grown birds than full- grown ones, or because there are so many of them, that two or three score, or hundreds, more or less, will not be missed, will abstain from doing likewise ? Or how shall we, conucious of such a beam in our own eye, ven- ture to extract the mote from our brother's? The arguments advanced — if arguments they can be called— in the above nrecious paper, are equally appli- cable to every other species of game that flies. The Quail is a very hard bird to stop when full-grown, and well on the wing, especially in wild weather, and thick covert — an infinitely harder bird, in proportion to its size, which makes it all the more difficult to hit, and 258 FIELD SPORTS. precludes the possibility of using large shot, than the Grouse — but I am happy to say, that I never in my life heard a sportsman advocate shooting Quail in July, because it is easier to kill them then, than in November. Again, that it is not impossible to kill Grouse — Prai- rie-Hen — in the autumn and winter, is rendered suffi- ciently evident by the quantity of these birds, killed with shot, which are exposed annually for sale in the New York and Philadelphia markets, over and above all those which are consumed in their native regions. Lastly, the reasoning on the number of the birds, is precisely that which has led to their annihilation in the Eastern and Midland States, and even in Kentucky, and which is equally applicable to every species of game in every district where it is abundant. I have heard the very same sort of talk by country- men, in defence of the vile practice of shooting Wood- cock in spring, where there were then thousands of those birds. The consequence of that talk is, that there are now none in those regions. The truth is, that until the middle of October, the young birds are not very strong on the wing, — after that period they become gradually wilder and stronger, and take longer flights, sometimes even to the distance of two or three miles in open country. Their flight is less rapid than that of the Ruffed Grouse, though of the same character. It does not make so loud a whirring as it first rises, but once on the wing, uses the same straight even course, main- tained for some distance by frequent beats of the wings, after which it will float for several hundred yards at a time on balanced pinions, with the velocity gathered from 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 huntei:. for in the vicinity of such grounds, where it will be found in the greatest abundance. On open prairie- grounds, the highest and speediest rangers are, of UPLAND SHOOTING. 259 course, the best dogs over 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. I should presume that, for Grouse-shooting in general the Pointer would be preferable to the Setter, as this bird is notorious for its dislike to watery or marshy ground, — and it is the Pointer's prominent merit that he can endure more hours of thirst than any other of the dog kind. The Setter, on the contrary, very speedily loses his power of scenting, and soon afterwards his whole energy and strength, in hot weather, where water is not to be obtained. For this reason, to the Eastward, in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, in all of which brush plains, pines, and oak " barrens, the soil is equally dry and sterile, the Pointer is as much preferred, as he is in the similarly dry Partridge-shooting of England. The British moors, on which the Red and Black Grouse are found, abound with springs, well-heads, brooks, and morasses, and on these the greater speed, daring, and dash of the Setter, as well as the advantage he derives from his well-protected hairy feet, gives him the call decidedly over his smooth-haired rival. Mr. Audubon observes on this point, " In the western country they rarely stand before the Pointer, and I thhik the Setter is a more profitable dog there ;" but I must confess myself entirely at a loss to comprehend the meaning of 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 to the scent of his game even at full speed, and flattening himself the nearer to the earth the nearer he is to his game, while the Pointer invariably stands erect 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 260 FIELD SPORTS. which I am aware, in the style of Pointers and Setters finding and pointing their game on this side the Atlan- tic. I have always shot over Setters, preferring them, by all odds, for general work, and have owned at least a dozen f)Ood ones myself since I have been in the country, besides sliooting over scores belonging to other persons, and I never in a single mstance have seen a Setter set a bird in America. This is not a distinction of training, but of natural 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 England, point a bird, and I never saw him set one. The first bird he ever scented was a Woodcock on the 4th of July, and that he stood, with head and stern 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 1 cannot figure to myself any reason that is at all satisfactory for the difference of habit in the two countries. I have some- times 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 observation 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 West- ward 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 rarely if ever to be found among open groves and tall timber, such as are peculiarly loved by the Ruffed Grouse ; they frequent 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 261 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 expe- rience in taking wind froui the opposition of the dense foliago. They are a shy bird in covert, and are of course much wilder to the Eastward, where they are inces- santly persecuted, than in the Western Country. The Grouse invariably makes a chuckling noise when it takes wing before a dog, and if it rises within dis- tance is a very easy shot. No. 7 early in the season, and later No. 5, are the best sizes of shot. After that, I should prefer red Eley's cartridges, of No. 5 shot, which I will be bound to say will fetch them from a good twelve or fonrteen gauge gun of proper weight, held by a quick 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 Grouse drinks when in a state of nature, like the common fowl, and farther, that it is exceedingly susceptible of domes- tication, even breeding freely in captivity. The remarks with regard to beating with dogs for the Quail and Ruifed Grouse, and for shooting both these birds on the wing, except so far as they are here modified, are all applicable to the Prairie or Heath- Hen. The flesh of this bird is not white, like that of the RuiFed 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 according 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 262 FIELD SPORTS. of the pines and scrub oaks of New Jersey and Penn- sylvania, and the Prarie-Hen of the West. They are all one and the same bird — the Pinnated Grouse,, Tctrao Cupido of the ornithologist, and em- phatically THE Grouse of the sportsman. ' Of the Canada or Spotted Grouse, it is in vain to speak, 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, espe- cially the former, of Maine, Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, and if anywhere he exists in sufficient numbers to render the pursuit of him 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 flavoured 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 flavour which gives the zest to the Grouse above all other birds in the eyes of the true epicure. AUTUMN SHOOTING. ?^■^■ It is brilliant Autumn time, the most brilliant time of all. When the gorgeous woods are gleaming ere the leaves begin to fall ; When the maple boughs are crimson, and the hickory shines like gold, When tb noons are sultry hot, and the nights are frosty cold ; When the country has no green but the sword-grass by the rill, And the willows in the valley, and the pine upon the hill ; When the pippin leaves the bough, and the sumach's fruit is red, And the Quail is piping loud from the buckwheat where he fed ; When the sky is blue as steel, and the river clear as glass, When the mist is on the mountain, and the net-work on the grass ; When the harvests all are housed and the farmer's work is done, And the woodland is resounding with the spaniels and the gun ; Such is the season of the sportsman's adoration ; to him, the lover of boon nature in her loveliest mood, these days are not, as Mr. Bryant in his beautiful poem has described them, to him at least, " the melancholy days,'' " the saddest of the year," nor, with all deference to that sweet bard and moralist of the wood and waters, can I agree with him as to the tone of sentiment and feeling excited by the contemplation of the scenery of an American autumn. It is true that we know ourselves to be looking upon, as it were, a hectic loveliness, which, like the glow on the cheek of consumptive beauty, is the precursor of decay and death. Still, so exquisite 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 promise of spring and the fulness 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 tranquil and gentle close 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 'I fi 1 l^ro 1 ill'' 1 w , 264 FIELD SPORTS. glories to shine forth after the winter of the grave, than the termination of an existence to he 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 smile and its April tears, and its rich breath of flowery fragrance, has awakened the fond sympathies of her landscape-loving poets, the many- coloured, purple-hazed, and silvery-skied autumn of America has neither been unhonoured nor unsung of lyres worthy to hang aloft in high niches of the temple consecrate to the noblest tongue of the modern universe. The true sportsman must ever be a lover of the charms of rural scenery, and for this among other things I love and honour sportsmanship. I do not believe than 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 senti- ment, 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 observed that the spots to which he will conduct you, apparently without a thought, except in reference to their convenience, Mherein to take your noonday meal, or your afternoon siesta, will be the very places to cliarm the poet's fancy, or fix the painter's eye. I think no lover of nature car. be an unkindly, or, at the bottom, an evil-minded or bad man. And so — and so ? Instead of pausing longer thus, or solidly and solemnly discussing the theory of sporting matters, we will at once walk into the practice. We M'ill suppose tlie time of the year such as our poor ballad-monger above quoted has, perhaps, laboured to depict, — the time of the morning, not the peep of day, Imt eight, or by'r lady ! nine of the Shrewsbury clock, when the autumnal sun has lifted his broad, jovial, ruddy face, from his dewy pillow, and raising it, looming large and blood-red through the thin haze, above the mountain's brow. There has been a touch of 1 1 UPI AND SHOOTING. 265 frost during the night, and its silver fretwork is still white over the deep after-grass, and yet unaltered fern leaves. The air is clear 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 either 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 greer and soft as velvet; but the woods and swamps in the vale, are rich with every colour 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 purples 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 contrasts 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 door- way of the country tavern in which they have spent the night, with their canine companions, and a stout rustic follower, loaded with supernumerary shot-l)eIts and game-bags, carrying in his dexter claw a stiff hickory cleaning-rod, and leading vi^ith his sinister a leash of large, bony, red-and-white Cocking Spaniels. Oi r sportsmen, for the nonce, adopting old Izaac Walton's quaint nomenclature, which figureth forth something of the character from the name, we will call Affilis and Peritus, The ovmer youthful, and some- wlmt rash, yet neither altogether verdant nor inexpert in the mysteries of the fowling-piece, — the latter deli- berate, though ardent, perfect with the gun, steady with tlie dogs, and a master of those noble sciences, hight, venerie, and woodcraft. VOL. I. N 266 FIELD SPORTS. They are both aptly habited for the field, in russet shooting-jackets, of stout 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 leathern 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 supended 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, ex- cept a snip on his breast, and a tag to his fine, feathery stern — the other black and tan; the perfection each, this of the Irish, that of the English strain, and indi- cating in some sort that perfection by their colours. '^ 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?" " I do not think, Agilis," replied his friend, " that there is any chance about it. It has been a good breed- ing 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 Snips-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, we 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 Mar .rd, by chance, will make up something in the way of a bag." " Do you expect to find all these varieties of game ? I have never shot aliove three kinds in a day." " Ah ! you have not shot before in autumn in America. For this very reason it is the prettiest and UPLAND SHOOTING. 267 I russet 1, long- le-boots Ls a pair Ider has leggins. and the I in his , but an n-hole of heel, are red dog, rhite. ex- , feathery ion each, and indi- .ours. d sUghter ^tskirts of of sport id, "that |od breed- ibundant; the nights ^^oodcock. beat too, Those, |h, I dare the cedar Lares, and MaP.rd, way ot a |of game ? itumn in ttiest and most exciting sport in the world ; that you can never even form a conjecture what is going to get up before 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 best to mark down every bevy we flush, to a yard. When we rejoin you, we will couple up the Setters, and beat the swales and thickets with the little dogs. Now, hold up, lads ! look sharp, 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 they are standing both of them. Is not that a picture ?" And they stepped up to the dogs, which held their point as stiff and as staunch as if they had been cast in bronze, or ^'arved 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 I they are up ! Steady \" Bang ! bang ! " Bravo ! a brace, Agilis ! very neatly done, I assure you ; you let them go far enough then, yet nc^t too far, before firing. You never killed a Quail before, hey ?" " 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 Partridge." " Is it a Partridge or a Quail, Peritus, after all ?" " Neither one nor the other, Agilis, an intermediate link between the two, but approximating nearer to the Quail. See, the red dog has retrieved one — good dog, Sancho ! A pretty bird, is it not ?" " Very. But what did you do ? 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 ?" N 2 268 FIELD SPORTS. M .. " No. I could not, with certainty. But I think they dropped in that bog-meadow, near yon pine-tree.*' "No, Agilis, you did not cast your eye forward suffi- ciently in watching them, as they skimmed low over the ground before the wind. They we;it 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 ve vr]] hy no means follow them at once. We must find several other bevies, and drive them, if pos- sible, the c-i' i3 way." "Musi, wc? — that seems strange." ** Ye"i. I will tell you about it at luncheon time ; but now c ;me on. The dogs are roading another bevy. Look for': o 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^ aft. /. % <" 1.0 I.I IS 2.0 L25 III u 6" V] '# O^ / 7 Photographic Sdaices Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 873-4503 •s? ;^^\ \\ A ^ ^\ WrS %>:^^ ■'^-^^^4^f^ *■•'_ ^M" >' 1 '-sri ., , .i, \ RAIL; AND RAIL-SHOOTING. -■■'■«• This singular and delicious little bird is so peculiar in its character and habits, although of an order which affords several species of our most esteemed game, viz., GrallatoreSj and the mode of pursuing and shooting it is so distinct from any other kinds of sport, that I have judged it best to keep it under a head entirely separate from other field-sports, w^ith no one of which, in truth, has it the smallest connexion or alliance. :lV tt Rallus Carolinus — Ortyyometra Caroiinus — the Caro- lina Rail — the Sora Rail — y\j\^o, the Rail" "Male9|.I4. " Passes across the United States, both by the inte- rior and along the coast. Some breed in New Jersey. Rarely seen east of Massachusetts. Extremely abun- dant in autumn on the Delaware and other streams furnished with wild oats. A few reside in Florida and Louisiana in winter. .' f - ■■ " 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, narrow in the rest of its extent ; the sides convex toward the end, the edges sharp, inflected, with a slight sinus close to the tip. Nasal groove broad, and extending to two- thirds of the length of the bill. Nostrils linear, lateral, sub-medial, pervious. Lower mandible with the angle UPLAND SHOOTING. 275 long 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 com- pressed. Feet of moderate length, rather stout ; tibia bare a short way above the joint ; tarsus of ordinary length, compressed, anteriorly covered with broad scu- tella, posteriorly with smaller, and on the sides reticu- lated. 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 thp second ; toes free, scutellate above, much compressed, with an inferior sharp margin. Claws rather long, ex- ceedingly compressed, slightly arched, tapering to a fine point, fiat, and marginate beneath. " Plumage rather stifle, 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, ta- pering, 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 coverts 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, brownish-black. Ear coverts olive-brown ; a band over the eye, the cheeks and 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 in the tail. Middle of breast and abdomen grayish-white; sides barred with brownish-black and 276 FIELD BPOBTS. grayish-M'hite^ as are the lateral feathers of the rump ; those of the abdomen reddish-yellow. ** Length to end of tail, 9-j\ inches ; to end of wings, 8^; to end of claws, 12 ; extent of wings, 14 ; wing from flexure, 4^ ; tail, 2 ; bill along the ridge, \^ ; along the edge of the lower mandible, -J4 J tarsus, 1^ ; its middle toe, 1-^ ; its claw, 4^. Weight, 7oz. "Adult female. " The female differs considerably from the male in colouring. 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 grayish-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 interme- diate in colour between the adult male and female, but more like the latter, 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 sportsman more agreeable t cement or a more delicious repast than the litt'e i.^d now before us. This amusement is indeed temporary, lasting only two or three hours in the day, tor four or five weeks in each year, but as it occurs in the most agreeable and tempe- rate 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 great 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 in- explicable mystery. It comes they know not whence, and goes they know not where. No one can detect UPLAND SHOOTING. 277 p each pempe- Fatigue Ittracts Ices as Isiasm. Lied in L is to Ind in- lence, ■detect their first moment of arrival; yet all at once the reedy shores and grassy marshes of our large rivers swarm with tliem, thousands heing sometimes found within the space of a few acres. These, when they do venture on wing, seem to fly so feebly, and in such short fluttering flights among the reeds, as to render it highly improbable to most people that they could pos- sibly make their way over an extensive tract of country. Yet on the first smart frost that occurs, the whole sud- denly disappear, 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 birds were innumerable, this theory has been abandoned. And here their researches into this mys- terious matter generally end in the common exclama- tion of, What can become of them?- Some profound inquirers, however, not discouraged with these difficul- ties, have prosecuted their researches with more success, and one of tLese being a few years ago near the mouth of James River, in Virginia, where the Rail, or Sora, are 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 extraordinary kind, that appeared to be neither a Sora nor a Frog, but, as he expressed it, something between the two. He carried it to his negroes, and afterwards 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 changed into a Frog 1 What farther confirms this grand discovery, is the well-known circumstance of the frogs ceasing to halloo as soon as the Sora comes in the fall. ** This sagacious discoverer, however, like many others renowned in history, has found but few supporters, and except his own negroes, has not, as far as I can learn, made a single convert to his opinion. 278 PIELD SPORTS. *' Matters being so circumstanced^ and some explana- tion necessary, I shall endeavour to throw a little more light on the subject by a simple detail of facts, leaving the reader to form his own theory as he pleases^ ^ "The Rail, or Sora, belongs to a genus of birds of which about thirty different species are enumerated by naturalists^ and these are distributed on almost every region of the habitable parts of 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 the summer in certain countries, the inhabitants of which have very rarely an opportunity of seeing them. Of this last, the Land Rail of Britain is a striking example. This bird, which during the summer months may be heard in almost every grass and clover field in the king- dom, uttering its common note, ' crekj crek' from sun- set 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 sel- dom 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 difii- cult 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, but when driven to extremity, and generally 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 UPLANI> SHOOTING. 279 same to our general habit of the g3nus. Its oommon 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 hide^ itself with great circumspec- tion. It is wild, solitary and sly, and will swim, dive and skulk under any cover, and sometimes suffer itself to be knocked on the head, rather than rise before the sportsman and his dog. 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 southern 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, surprising that the regular migrations of the American Rail, or Sora, should in like manner have escaped notice in a country like this, whose population 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 north to south, and vice verad, may be fairly inferred from the common practice of thousands of other species of birds, less solicitous of concealment, and also from the following facts : — " On the 22nd day of February, I killed two of these birds in the neighbourhood of Savannah, in Georgia, where they have never been observed during the sum- mer. 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 arrive at Hudson's Bay early in June, and again leave that settlemert for the south early in autumn. 280 FIELD SPORTS. " That many of them also remain here to breed, is proved by the testimony of persons of credit and intelli- gence, with whom I have conversed, both here and on James River, in Virginia, who have seen their nes^s, eggs, and young. In the extensive meadows that bor- der the Schuylkill and Delaware, it was formerly com- mon, before the country was so thickly settled, to find young Rail in the first mowing time, among the grass. Mr. James Bertram, brother to the botanist, a vener- able and still active man, of eighty-three, and well ac- quainted 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 colour, 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 observed at that time, but the young often. Almost every old settler along these meadows with whom I have conversed, has occasionally seen young Rail in mowing time, and all agree in describing them as covered with blackish down. There can, there- fore, 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 man- ners exactly correspond with those of the Water-crake of Britain, already quoted, so that though actually of a different species, their particular habits, common places of resort, and eagerness for concealment, are as nearly the same as the nature of the climates will admit. ** Early in August, when the reeds along the shores of the Delaware have attained their fall growth, the RaU resort to them in great numbers, to feed on the UPLAND SHOOTING. 281 lores the the seeds of this plant, of which they, as well as the Rice- birds, and several others, are immoderately fond. These reeds, which appear to he Zizania panicula effusa of Linnreus, and the Zizania clavulosa of WilUnden, 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 them as far as they dare safely venture. They grow up so close together, that ex- cept 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 ])lossoms, or male parts, occupying the lower branches of the pinnacle, and tlie seeds the higher. The seeds are nearly as long as a common-sized pin, somewhat more slender, white, sweet to the taste, and very nutri- tive, as appears by their effects on the various birds 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 possession of them in great num- bers. These are generally numerous in proportion to the full and promising crop of the former. / "^ you walk along the embankment of the river at this set ;4on, you hear them squeaking in every direction, like young puppies. If a stone be thrown among the reeds, there is a general outcry, and a reiterated kuk, kuk, kuk, some- thing like that of a Guinea-fowl. Any sudden noise, or discharge of a gun, produces the same effect. In the meantime, none are to be seen, unless it be near high water; for when the tide is low, they universally secrete themselves among the interstices of the reeds, and you may v/alk past, and even over them, where there are hundreds, without seeing a single individual. On their first arrival, they are generally lean and unfit for the table ; but as the seedc ripen, they rapidly fatten, and from the 20th September to the middle of October, 282 FIELD SPORTS. are excellent, and eagerly sought after. The usual method of shooting them in this quarter of the country is as follows. ** The sportsman furnishes himself with a light bat- teau, 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 before high water they enter the reeds, and each takes his post — tlie sportsman standing in the bow ready for action, the boatman on the stern-seat, pushing her steadily through the reeds. The Rail generally spring singly as the boat advances, and at a short distance ahead, are instantly shot down, while the boatman, keeping 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 Iteep a sharp look-out, and give the word *Mark,' when a Rail springs on either side without being observed 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 appear- ance of the reeds, is seldom found again. " In this manner the boat moves steadily through and over the reeds, the birds flush>ng and falling, the gunner loading and firing, 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 return. Several boats are sometimes within a short distance of each other, and a perpetual cracking of musketry prevails above the whole reedy shores of the river. In these excursions, it is not uncommon for an active and expert marksman to kill ten or twelve dozen in a tide. They are usually shot singly, though I have known five killed at one dis- charge of a double-barrelled piece. These instances, however, are rare. V " The flight of these birds among the reeds is uisually UPLAND SHOOTING. 38S e usual country ght bat- i pole of ver end, About le reeds, g in the 3rn-seat, he Rail md at a irhile the the bird bird up, batman's he word without he exact I for this appear- hrough ing, the rushing or two e water, reeds, as the tide oats are r, and a le whole ns, it is sman to usually one dis- stances, uisually 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 several 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, wh^n wounded, they dive, and rising under the gunwale of the boat, secrete themselves there, moving round as the boat moves, until they have an opportunity of escaping unnoticed. "They are feeble and delicate in everything except the legs,{which seem to possess great vigour and energy; and their bodies being so remarkably thin, are com- pressed so as to be less than an inch and a quarter through transversely, they are enabled to pass between the reeds like rats. When seen, they are almost con- stantly 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 occasionally 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-shooting in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia. ** 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, proceeds through among the reeds, which lie broken and floating on the surface. The whole space, for a 984 FIELD BPORTS. considerable way round the canoe, is completely en- lightened, — the birds start with astonishment, and, as they appear, are knocked over the head with a paddle, and thrown into the canoe. In this mantier, 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 numerous 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 me 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 sea-coast 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 of the Delaware, and where the reeds abound, the Rail are sure to be found also. Most of them leave Pennsylvania before the end of October, and the Southern States early in November, though numbers linger in the warm southern marshes the whole winter. "A very worthy gentleman — Mr. Harrison — 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 coun- tries beyond the United 5itates, is rendered highly pro- bable, from their being so frequently met with at sea, between our shores and the West Indian 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 DelaWwjre, 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 as UPLAND SHOOTING. 285 voyage than a one idden |e, and 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. Skip- with, for sometime our Consul in Europe, on his return to the United States, when upwards of three hundred miles from the Capes of the Chesapeake, several Rail, or Suras, I think five or six, came on board, and were caught by the people. Mr. Skipwith being well ac- quainted with the bird assured him that they were the very same with those usually killed on James River. " I have received like assurances from several other gentlemen, and captains of vessels, who have met with those birds between 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 incredible, 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? Inhabiting as they do the remote regions of Hudson's Bay, where it is impossible they could subsist during the rigour of winter, they must either emigrate from there, or perish; and as the same places in Pennsylvania, which abound with them in October, are often laid under ice and snow during the winter, it is as impossible that they could exist here in that inclement season. Heaven has, therefore, given them, in common with many others, certain prescience of these circumstances, and judgment as well as strength of flight, sufficient to seek more genial climate, abounding with the suitable food. " During the greater parts of the months of Septem- ber and October, the market of Philadelphia is abund- antly 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 off to the South. In Virginia they usually remain until the first week in November. \ 28G FIELD SPORTS. r' " Since the above was written, I have received from Mr. George Ord, of Philadelphia, some curious parti- culars relative to this bird, which, as they are new, and come fron> a gentleman of respectability, are worthy of being recorded, and merit further investigation. "' My personal experience,' says Mr. Ord, *has made me acquainted with a fact in the history of the Rail, which, perhaps, is not generally known, — and I snail as briefly as possible communicate it to you. Some time in the autumn of the year 1809, as I was walking in a yard, after a severe shower of rain, I perceived the feet of a bird projecting from a spout. I pulled it out, and discovered it to be a Rail, very vigorous, and in perfect 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 for- ward, apparently much irritated, fell to the floor, and stretching out its feet, and bending its neck, until the head nearly touched the back, became to all appearance lifeless. Thinking the fall had killed the bird, I took it up, and began to lament my rashness, in provoking 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 wherein Canary Birds were confined, and resolved that on the succeeding day, I would endea- vour to discover whether or not the passion of anger had produced the fit. I entered the room at the ap- pointed time, and approached the bird, which had retired on beholding me, in sullen humour, to a corner. On pointing my finger at it, its feathers were imme- diately rufflad, and in an instant it sprang forward, as in the first instance, and fell into a similar fit. The following day the experiment was repeated, 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 battcau. The bird had risen about a yard, when it became entangled in the tops of a small bunch of reeds. UPLAND SHOOTING. 287 ing the re my hen it reeds, and immediately fell. Its feet and neck were extended, as in the instances above mentioned, 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 fooc 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 eflfects to epilepsy. I leave the explanation of the phenomena to those pathologists who are competent and willing to inves- tigate it. It may be worthy to remark that the birds affected as described were all females of the Gallinula Carolina, or common Rail.' " The Rail, though generally reputed a simple bird, will sometimes manifest symptoms of considerable intel- ligence. To those acquainted with Rail-shooting it is hardly necessary to mention that the tide in its flux is considered an almost indispensable 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 sportsman and to frustrate his endeavours. " Even should he succeed in a tolerable degree, the reward is not commensurate to the labour. I have entered the marsh in a batteau, at a common tide, and in a well-known haunt, have beheld but a few birds. The next better tide, on our resorting to the same spot, I perceived abundance of game. The fact is, the Rail dive and conceal themselvee beneath the fallen reed, merely projecting their heads above the 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 practice with wounded Rail to dive to the bottom, and holding on to some vegetable substance, support themselves in that situation until exhausted. During such times, the bird, in escaping from one it 288 FIELD SPORTS. ^» 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 escapes them. I myself have beheld a large eel make off with a bird that I had shot, before I had time to pick it up ; and one of my boys in bobbing for eels caught one with a whole Rail in its belly. I have heard it observed that on the increase of the moon the Rail improves in fatness, and decreases in a considera- ble degree with that planet. Sometimes I have con- ceited that the remark was just. If it be a fact, I think it may be explained on the supposition 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 interrup- tion than at other periods. " I have had my doubts as to the propriety of class- ing this biM under the genus Rallus. 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 requested to consider this species the Gallinula Carolina of Dr. Latham." — Wilson's American Orni- thology. To set aside the possibility of continued doubt on the subject of the migration of the Rail, which really seems to be so perfectly a settled question, as to render it impossible that any sane man in America should persist in believing that this bird burrows and lies torpid in the mud, — 1 have myself, however, met scores who do believe so, — I shall quote Mr. Audubon's personal observations as to the migrations of this bird, which he has often seen with his own eyes, and no one who has read his deUghtful animal biographies, will doubt how keen those eyes are, and how accurate. "This bird," he says, "which I think might have UPLAND SHOOTING. 289 have been m.. id the Pennsylvanian or Virginian Rail, enters the Union from the shores of Mexico early in March, when many are seen in the markets of New Orleans. Some reach their northern destination by ascending along the margin of our Western streams, or by crossing the country directly, in the manner of the Woodcock j while those which proceed along the coast shorten their journey as much as possible by flying across the head- lands of the numerous inlets or bays of our Southern districts, returning or advancing more slowly, according 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 Look-out. It is nevertheless true, that a certain number of these birds follow the sinuosities of the shores, for I found some in the markets of Charleston, in April, that had been killed in the immediate neighbourhood of that cit)'^, and I obtained others in various parts ; but the number of these is very small as compared with those that cross at once. When their passage takes place, either during calm weather, or with a favourable wind, the fortunate travellers pursue their journey by entering Pamlico Sound, and following the inner mar- gins of the outward banks of this part of the coast 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 bor- ders of Lake Ontario, or the waters of the St. Lawrence, after which they soon enter those portions of the coun- try in which they breed, and spend a short but agreeable season, '^ Every person acquainted with the general move- ments of birds, either during the 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* VOL. I. m. 290 FIELD SPORTS. Thus, in its movement southward, the Sora, like all other Rails, when returning with its progeny, which are yet feeble, and unable to undergo much fatigue, pro- ceeds considerably slower than in spring; hence its appearance in autumn, in multitudes, in various places, where it is enticed, by an abundance of food and com- parative security, to tarry 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 mar- gins of the rivers of our middle districts. Several natural causes prevent birds of this species from fol- lowing the sea-coast of the United States while migrat- ing, either in spring or in autumn, the principal of which is the absence of their favourite Zizania marshes, which are bujt very rarely to be met with to the east of the State of New York. This is probably the cause of the great rarity of this species in Massachusetts, while, so far as I know, none are ever found to the eastward of that State. These observations are corroborated by those of my friend, Thomas McCuUoch, 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 April, when they were moving directly toward Cape Look-out, 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 adding in confirmation of their capability of protracted flight, that some of these birds, when acci- dentally 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. UPLAND SHOOTING. 291 . ''During the autumnal menths, 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 Bach man, however, was shown some eggs of this bird, that had been found in the meadows below Phila- delphia; and whilst I was on a shooting-expedition for Woodcock, in company with my friend, Edward Harris, Esq., my son shot some young birds, scarcely fledged, and shortly afterward, an adult female. John Bach- man met with a nest on the shores of the Hudson, and I saw two in the marshes of Lake Champlain.*' — Audu- bon's American Ornithology* I have judged it but proper to extend both my quo- tations on the habits, and my own observations on the shooting of this bird, to some length, as the first are very peculiar, and the latter affbrds a sport, which though I think it for my own part, rather a tame amuse- ment, 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 of one kind or another of aquatic fowl, but none of them are sufliciently abundant, in certain spots or at certain seasons, unless it be perhaps the bird commonly known as the Mud-Hen, to be made the object of especial pursuit. This bird which is, properly, - • ^ The Clapper-Rail, or Salt-Water Marsh- Hen, Rallus 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. .... jaJ , ... 292 FIELD SPORTS. It is a large-sized bird, weighing 11 to 12 oz., and look' ing larger than they really are. 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 the pole. On Long Island and gene- rally in the Middle States, this bird is called the Mud, or Meadow-Hen. The other species commonly met with by the sports- man are. The Great Red-Breasted Rail, or Fresh- Water Marsh-Hen — Rallus Elegans — com- monly known in Pennsylvania and New Jersy as the "KiNGRAIli." This is the largest and by far the handsomest of the tribe; its weight is about 11 to 13 oz. — its length 20^ inches by an alar extent of 22. It is rarely found east of Pennsylvania, although I have occasionally killed it in New Jersey. It is a con- stant 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 America, and the common Gallinule, both of this same family of RALLiDiS. They are principally Southern birds, though stragglers are occasionally found in the Middle and Eastern States. Tliey 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 like, are usually killed by the sports- man, if encountered in pursuit of other game, though never made the object of especial chase. V »LAND SHOOTING. 293 None of these, however, can it be deemed unsports- manlike 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 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. iir f^:P-'^. \l } RAIL-SHOOTING. From the middle of August, until the setting in of wintry frosts, the pursuit of this curious, and excellent little bird, may be followed in the localities which he frequents, by those who care for the sport. It is not by any means comparable to those kinds of shooting, which are followed with dogs in the field, among varied scenery and diverse accidents of sport ; nor is the bird very sporting in its habits, nor is much skill required to shoot him. He is, however, delicious to eat ; he literally abounds on the reedy mud-flats 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 during those periods of the tide, which permit his pursuit, a stranger might well believe, during the Rail season, almost anywhere on the Delaware, sixty miles below, or thirty above Philadelphia, that the outposts of two armies were engaged in a brisk skirmish, so inces- sant 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 compressed, he can pass with such ease and celerity among the close stalks 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 UPLAND SHOOTING. 295 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, however, as it has risen high enough to allow a boat to be forced through the partially sub- merged, 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, therefore ; so much so, that as soon as he mastered the slight difficulty of getting accustomed 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 many of these birds in suc- cession. The boat used is a long, light, flat-bottomed, sharp- built skiff— flat to draw as little water as possible, sharp to force its way through the heavy-tangled water-plants. In the bow of this the shooter stands erect, balancing himself in the ricketty rocking egg- shell, for it is little more, while the pole-man stands behind him, propelling the vessel with his long punt- pole, the more rapidly 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 has fallen j and, moreover, the reeds and grass are so 296 FIELD SPORTS. tliick, and so similar in colour 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 rival pole-men driving their skiffs with all attainable velocity, and the emulous shooters banging away at the thick-rising birds, without much caring whether some other sportsman I -3 or be not within the range, and in the line of shot, that in 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 bird is so easily killed, and the range of his flight is so small, that very light charges, and very small shot, is in use. With the recklessness I have seen displayed in this sport, were large charges, and heavy shot used, it would be an affair of real danger to shoot at Dullman's Flats, at the mouth of the Nesha- miny, 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 pole-man, or pusher, and with two equally good shots, it shall make a differ- ence of nearly half the bag, which has the better as- sistant. The skill at marking dead birds, the rapidity of bagging them, and the adroitness at pushing, to which some of these men attain, is truly remarkable ; and accustomed to the society of gentlemen, and pro- vided with a good stock of sporting anecdote, and sporting information, they are generally very convers- able, and discreet fellows, with whom a few hours can be spent, not only without tedium, but with some profit. John Horn, of Bristol, in Pennsylvania, is the best hand of these hardy aquatics I have ever encountered, UPLAND SHOOTING. 297 and many a good day's sport and fun have I enjoyed in his company, and under his guidance, on the broad and tranquil Delaware. The time for beginning this sport 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 commence, and your sport will continue so long as the birds will continue to rise before you, which will generally be until about the first quarter 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 when it is making. There is little more to be said on the head of this sport, except to give a few hints as to accoutrements and equipage, on which, perhaps, next to the merits of your pole-man, the celebrity of your shooting, and amount of your bag, will depend. The best position, as I have observed, for the shooter, is to staiid, — and the best way to do this in the tottering and fragile skiffs, is to plant the feet firmly a little way apart, with the left somewhat advanced ; not to brace your legs or stiffen your knees, but rather to let the latter be a little bent, and to humour the motion of the boat, by swaying your body slightly in accordance 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, inva- riably, in the shallowest water, and drowning 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 dress as any. Your shortest and your lightest gun, is the best tool for the sport; but a largish landing-net, on a long light pole, will be found a very convenient appendage, and will save your pole-man much time in bringing your dead birds to bag. o3 zw PISLD SPORT0. Next as regards loading, to do which very quickly — at all times a great point — is here a sine qud non to good sport, use no shot-bag, and put the charger of yciir powder-horn down to its minimum of contents. Half the ordinary charge of powder, and three-quarters of an ounce of No. 9 shot, is an ample charge for Rail, But if you are looking out for flock shooting-at Reed- birds at the same time, as is usual, it is well to carry a second heavier gun, with an ordinary load of No. 8. Sometimes Teal, or other wild duck, come across you, especially while going up or down the river to your ground, or returning from it; and for tlie chan- e of these, it is well to reserve a barrel, if not a gun, loadcti with Eley's cartridges of No. 3 or 4. For greater convenience of loading, as you n.re always stationary 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 quantum svff. of wadding; a small tin scoop of the capa- city named above, tri . oe-quarters of an ounce, lying on the shot, will save much trouble, and half the time in loading. This box and your powder-horn will lie on the bench or thwart before you, — your copper caps you will keep in your waistcoaet-pockct, and by the precau- tion of being thus provided aforehand, you will get three shots for two with a rival, who lugs his flask out of his ])ocket, and charges with a belt or pouch after every shot. No farther rules are needed, except the old one. which cannot be too often repeater^ -t'tke \ our time, and be deliberate. Nay! with the Hail you can afford to be slow, for he shall rise within ten feet of you, ninety-nine times of a hundred, and you shall miss him only by getting flurried, or by tumbling overboard. I'oT he rest, though it really scarce deserves to be re ted as a s|*'..'rt, or honoured with a place among the roller kinds of woodcraft, Rail shooting is a pretty pastime enough ; and when birds are abundant and rise I UPLAND SHOOTING. 299 well, the rapid succession of shots, and the necessary rapidity of motion, '^•reate« ii excitement to which is often added the emuluti"T( of surp issing rival boats and gunners, — to whitli may again be superadded th^ sti- mulating apprehension of being peppered soundly b^' a stray charge of mustard-seed, together vith the agre*. - able variations of vituperation 'id recrimination, to which the said peppering may be t J of excellent quality; and I only give an opinion on which I have acted, and not been disappointed, when I say that I would rather have a gun of his workmanship made to my order, for any price not exceeding one hundred and fifty dollars, than any imported gun at the same rate. The high qualities of English guns are not to be sur- passed, but cannot be furnished by any first-rate maker short of — appurtenances included — £56. This, with 30 per ct. ad valorem duty added, shipping charges, &c., will amount to a very large price. Nevertheless, I say, if any man be disposed to go to the trouble of import- ing 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 tha,t 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. . s No. 4 shot I consider quite large enough for any kind cf fowl, unless Canada Geese or Wild Swans ; but I would always use a green Eley's cartridge in one barrel. The best powder, beyond all question or comparison, for fowling, and especially for sea shooting, is what is called Hawker's Ducking Powder^ prepared by Curtis and Harvey, as the diamond grain of the same house is by all odds the quickest, strongest, and cleanest powder in the world. The grain of the ducking powder is extremely coarse — coarser than cannon powder — and very hard ; it is not, therefore, liable to become damp or liquified when exposed to a saline atmosphere. Not- withstanding 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 experi- ment, I kept forty-eight hours in a tumbler full of water, and it exploded quickly and cleanly. There is nothing like them, — but like all good things they are dear. For UPLAND SHOOTING. 319 the rest, a person who cares to keep but one gun, will find himself able to do good work with a general shoot- ing piece of 14 gauge, 32 inches barrel, and 8 lbs. weight, even at fowl, if he uses No. 4, Eley's wire cartridges. Verbum sap. And so adieu to Upland shooting. SPORMNG DOGS. As without the aid of well bred and well broke dogs no game can be either successfully or scientifically pur- suedj and as in the management of this noble animal both in the kennel and the firM consists, perhaps^ the greater part of the true science of woodcraft, no work on field sports can be esteemed in anywise complete which does not treat of their breeds^ characteristics, and general treatment, whether in health, in sickness, in the house^ or in the field. This portion of my sub- ject I therefore now approach, without farther observa- tion than this, that neither a complete history of canine pathology, nor a full treatise on dog-breaking, must be looked for within the limits of such a book 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 compe- tent talent and experience. Two of these, more especially, should be 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 & Blanchard, of Philadelphia, under the editorial supervision of E. J. Lewis, M.D., of that city, a gentlemen who has performed his part with creditable accuracy, diligence, and research ; and whose fondness for the animal in question, and his long study of its peculiarities, entitle his observations to respectful attention, although to some of his views, especially in regard to breeding and races, I must enter my dissent. The latter book has never I believe been republished in America, but the English edition is not costly, and may UPLAND SHOOTING. 321 be obtained from any c». .isiderable bookseller in the United States. With these two guides and text-books in his possession, the sportsman will be little at a loss in regard either to the diagnosis or treatment of diseasey, which he must perforce attend to personally in this country, as veterinary surgeons are neither numerous nor skilful, generally speaki ng, even in the larger cities, while in the country districts they are not; and even where they are, canine pathology is little understood or professed by them. To proceed at once then in medias res, the races of sporting dogs used in upland si. noting, 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 sagaces, being distinguished by their qualities of instinct and powers of scenting, in contra- distinction io speed or ferocity. Of these the best known, and most generally used, and I must think vvith justice, as superior in beauty, endurance, and aptitude to our climate and style of shooting, is THE SETTER. / 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. A great deal of absurd nonsense has been written about the breed and race of the Setter, from the mass of which I shall selec» the following passage for two reasons, first that it reaches the very climax of possible stupidity, and second, that it is from the pen of one who should know better, at least to merit the reputation he has acquired ; being no other than the person who has gained very considerable celebrity as the author of p3 322 FIELD SPORTS. U i " The Sportsman in France," " The Sportsman in Ire- land and Scotland," and " The Sportsman in Canada." After stating that the Setter is his favourite dog in the field, and decidedly the most useful for general shooting in France, Mr. Tolfrey actually proceeds to give the following receipt for making a breed of Setters, forgetful, apparently, that it is very unneces- sary to set about making, what nature has already made in perfection to our hand, and quite ignorant, it should seem, that it is impossible to make a pure strain from any combination of crosses. There is no doubt what- ever that the true Setter is a pure strain of unmixed Spaniel blood, the only improvement produced in the breed arising from its judicious cultivation, by the selec- tion of the largest, healthiest, and handsomest indivi- duals of both sexes from which to rear a progeny, and by the careful development of their qualities, by scientific feeding, exercising, and bringing into condition. The following receipt may therefore make a useful mongrel, but can no more make a Setter, than crossing a Quagga, a Zebra, and a Canadian pony — all varieties of the horse breed — can make a thorough-bred. * ' " The preliminary step," he says, " is to put a fine bred and unexceptionable Pointer bitch to a noted Fox- hound; you will then have laid the foundation of three essential qualities, speed, nose, and courage. Docility and sagacity are also requisites, and to obtain them cross the offspring with the small and slender race of New- foundland dog. The produce will be as near perfection as possible; they will take to the water, retrieve, and for general shooting will be found the very best and most useful animal the sportsman can desire." '^ I quote the above as I have said, merely to caution the sportsman against giving the least heed to any such stuflf, and to warn him to avoid any crossing or inter- mixture of breeds as he would the plague. If he prefer the Pointer, let him stick to Pointer, but let it be a Pointer pure. If Sette:*, let him do the same. Any mixture, even of those two kindred bloods, is in nine UPLAND SHOOTING. 323 m nine cases out of ten, disadvantageous, and instead of com- bining th 3 peculiar excellencies, the produce is very apt to unite the wors*^^ ^ lalities of the several strains, super- added to a suUeuness and badness of temper, which is in some sort, the characteristic of all mules. Mr. Lewis is under the impression, as I gather from his comments on Youatt, that it is the fashion in England, to intermix Setter and Pointer blood, by way of improving the former, and that the majority of English Setters has been so intermingled intentionally, with the idea that the qualities of the animal are im- proved thereby. This idea is utterly erroneous; for, although doubtless much Setter blood has been thus vitiated, no persons priding themselves on their kennels, or fanciful, not to say scientific, about their breeds of dogs, would admit one of these mongrels into their establishment, much less breed from him. Such an intermixture is regarded as decidedly a taint, as a strain of cock-tail blood in the pedigree of a thorough-bred horse. And very many noblemen and gentlemen pay as much attention to their breeding kennels, and their peculiar and private strains of Pointers and Setter, as others do to the breeding and rearing of the race-horse. >.= j ... - .-.<^^ ^^i-i The Pointer is a made dog, that is to say, he is not of an original or pure breed, traceable to any one variety, nor lias he been known to the sporting world for any considerable length of time. The Spaniel is first men- tioned, and that in his improved form as a Setter, i. e. taught to couch, in a MS. work written by the grand huntsman to Edward the Second, so long ago as A.D. 1307, whereas the Pointer was not known in the six- teenth century, and probably has not existed in his present improved form, for much above a hundred years. He was known originally as the Spanish Pointer, and was probably first reared in that country, to which his peculiar capacity for enduring heat and the want of water singularly adapts him. It appears probable that he is an improved or altered 324 FIELD SPORTS. form of the Foxhound^ bred and trained to stand instead of chasing his game, and to repress his cry; and it is generally supposed that this was effected and his present type obtained by crossing the Foxhound with the Spaniel. I cannot say that I believe this to be the case^ as I cannot see by what analogy the crossing a feather-sterned dog, such as the Hound, with one entirely rough and silky-haired^ like the Spaniel, should result in the production of a race, the characteristic of which is the closest and most satin-like of coats, and the whip-like tail of a rat. I am inclined myself to believe that the original stock is from the Foxhound, and smooth-haired Danish or Pomeranian dog, crossed perhaps again with Spaniel, but so slightly as to show few of its characteristic points. The Pointer being, as I have said, originally a cross-bred dog, sportsmen con- tinued to mix his blood occasionally to obtain different qualities, to a late period, and even now Foxhound blood is occasionally added, in order to give dash and courage. I should not be surprised to find that a cross of the Bull-dog had been introduced, as it was advantageously into the Greyhound by Lord Orford, though I have found no mention of the fact — but the type of the animal is now firmly established, and the finest breed reproduces itself in its finest strain, if purely bred. The cross breeding, which I have named, has never been allowed with regard to the Setter, however, except by some ignorant or prejudiced keeper, or some person desirous of preserving, by this unnatural union, some qualities of a favourite individual of either strain. In any well-kept kennels a chance litter from a Setter bitch by a Pointer dog, or vice versd, would undoubetdly be con- demned to the horse-pond, and with Irish sportsn.en, who are very choice of their Setters, a cross even with the English Setter would be regarded as a blemish. The Setter is too well known in this country to require a particular description; it m.'.y be well, how- ever, to call the attention to some of those points which peculiarly indicate purity of breed. The first of these UPLAND SHOOTING. 325 is undoubtedly the nature of his coat, which, in the finest and purest strain, is long, sleek, and wavy, but not curly^ even upon the crest and ears — a tendency to curl indicating an admixture of the Water Spaniel — it should be as soft, and almost as fine and glossy as floss silk, and on his stem and along the back of his legs should expand into a fringe known technically as the feathering, often of many inches in extent. The head should be broad between the eyes, with a high bony process or ridge at the hinder extremity of the skull, between the ears, which is by many sportsmen thought to indicate the degree of the animal's olfactory powers. There should be rather a deep indenture between the eyes j the nose should be long rather than broad, and somewhat tapering, with soft, moist, well-expanded nostrils; and, above all things, a black nose and palate, with a full, liquid, dark, and singularly expressive eye. The best breed is not very tall or bulky ; and the great heavy-shouldered, coarse, square-headed, club -tailed, fleecy brutes whlbh are generally called Setters in this country, are probably the result of some such cross as that recommended by Mr. Tolfrey, on the original Setter stock. . . . , . The best and most useful dog is of medium height, very deep-chested and high withered, what we should call in a horse well coupled, or closely ribbed up, and very strong and broad across the loins. The legs should be straight, and the longer to the knee and hock joints, and the shorter thence to the pasterns, the better. The feet should be hard, round, and cat-like, and well provided with ball and toe tufts, which are of great efficacy in protecting the feet from becoming sore, either from wet and ice, or from hard, stony, or stubby ground. Their action, when in movement, is very lithe and graceful; the stern is carried high, and constantly feathered and it is a good sign if the head is likewise carried iiigh, and if the dog snufF the air when scenting his game, rather than stoop his nose to the ground, and 326 FIELD SPORTS. puzzle for his scent, which habit is often the result of a deficiency in his olfactory power. In my opinion, the Setter is infinitely preferable to the Pointer everywhere, unless in dry, barren plains, where water is not to be had ; as in such places the Pointer can hunt well on an allowance of fluid on which a Setter could not exist. The Pointer is more docile, it is true, and has^ perhaps, a finer nose, though I think his extreme caution, rather than superior scenting qualities, has led to the idea of his superiority in this respect. These qualities are, however, counterbalanced by so many other points of superiority on the part of the Setter, that I must decidedly give him the palm over his rival, and especially for this country, in which I am perfectly satisfied that one brace of Setters will do as much work, and that work more satisfactorily, than two brace of Pointers, hunted stead% through the season, week in and week out. Individual Pointers may, and have been, of rare excellence, but as a race they cannot compete with the Setter. For a mere tyro, who does not know how to control his dogs, or for one who lives in a city, and takes his dog out five or six times in a year only, a Pointer is undoubtedly preferable — for, without work, a Setter is apt to be headstrong and wild — but for the every-day shot, the all-day-long shot, the rough- and-tumble, eager, scientific, keen sportsman, rely upon it, the Setter is the dog. Of the Setter, there are three principal varieties. The English Setter, which is the animal com- monly in use m this country, too well known to need peculiar danefiption, of which the points described above are tJ*t principal characteristics. He is found of all colours — olack, black and white, black and tan, pure white, liver, iwer and white, orange or red, and yellow and white ae^^tted ; and of all those colours he is found good ; irtdee . as ol the horse, it may be said tuit a good dog cannot be )f a bad colour. Nevertheles -*, I aiL apt to think that liver colour is apt to indicsoe a. pr .'*)ininant*i of Poii.ter, or Water Spaniel biood, UPLAND SHOOTING. 327 n, pure yellow found tiMt a 2les s 1 icale a biood. though take him altogether, the best dog I ever owned was liver and white, and so curly about the head that 1 sometimes suspected a Spaniel cross. A chocolate- coloured nose I look upon as very suspicious, and a flesh-coloured, or white nose, I think indicative of soft- ness of constitution. The Irish Setter is either pure red, or red and wliite, or yellow and white spotted. His nose, lips, and palate, are invariably black. His coat is somewhat more wiry, and his frame more bony and muscular than the English dog. He is the hardiest and most daunt- less of the race, and, though apt to be somewhat unma- nageable and headstrong, if he is sufficiently worked, and managed with a tight hand, these faults can be kept down, while his indomitable pluck, his rapidity, his per- severance, and his dash, render him, in my opinion, for the real hard-working sportsman, preferable to his English brother. ; » The 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 Britain. The li-ssiAN Setter is, however, clearly a distinct variety . a;'id it is a little remarkable that this race has never been described in any American work, and that Mr. Youatt, and his editor, Dr. Lewis, seem to be alike luttware 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 other Setter, and is covered with such a fleece of coarse woolly hair, that unless it is clipped away from the brows, the animal can scarcely see. The whole body is covered by a coat of long, thick, woolly fleece, hanging in elf-locks knotted together, of many inches in length, as curly, though six times as long, as those of the Water Poodle. Its olfac- tory powers are of the very highest order, its docility and sagacity unequalled, and its courage in facing briars 328 f -i FIELD SPORTS. % or water, its endurance of cold and fatigue, are such as to entitle it, in my opinion, to the first place of the whole rac^. It makes an admirable retriever, and would, I think, suit this country beyond any dog with which 1 am acquainted, though I have never seen one in America. It is less handsome than the English and Irish breeds, but its qualities are first-rate. They are more common in the North than in the South of England, and are much used on the moors. The Duke of Devonshire had, when I was in England, and I believe keeps to this day, this fine variety in its purity; and in my boyhood, my father, the late Dean of Man- chester, had some excellent dogs of the Russian breed, 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 question, and one of great utility and importance 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 Youatt, Dr. Lewis' opi- nion of the MERITS OP THE SeTTER, COMPARED WITH THOSE OP THE PoiNTER. " 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 Poin- ter has many qudities that recommend him to the sportsman, that the Setter does not possess. In the first place, the extreme hardiness and swiftness of foot, natural to the Setter, enables him to get over much more ground than tlie 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 supeiior physical powers, enables him to stand much more work than the Poin- ter, and oftentimes he appears quite fresh upon a long- \) UPLAND SHOOTING. 329 ed by ed by )wded for ;rs, Poin- long- continued hunt, when the other will be found drooping and inattentive. " The long, thick fur of the Setter, enables him to wend his way through 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 is superior to the Setter in retaining his acquired powers for hunting, and not being naturally enthusiastic in pursuit of game, he is more easily broken and kept in proper subjection. " The Setter frequently requires a partial rebreaking at the commencement of each season, in his younger days, owing to the natural eagerness with which he resumes the sport. The necessity of this, however, diminishes with age, as the character and habits of the dog become more settled, and then we may take them into the field, with a perfect assurance of their behaving quite as well on the first hunt of the season as the staunchest Pointer would. " The extreme caution and mechanical powers of the Pointer in the field is a barrier to his flushing the birds, as is often witnessed in the precipitate running of the Setter, who winds the game, and frequently overruns it, in his great anxiety to come up with it. But this occasional fault on the part of the Setter may be counterbalanced by the larger quantity of game that he usually finds in a day's hunt, owing to his enthusiasm and swiftness of foot. Setters require much more water while hunting than the Pointer, owing to their thick covering of fur, encouraging a greater amount of insensible perspiration to fly ofi" 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 warm. " A striking instance of this fact came under our own immediate observation this fall, when shooting in a range of country thinly settled, and uncommonly dry. The day being warm, and the birds scarce, the dogs I 330 FI£LD SPORTS. suffered greatly from thirst, insomuch that a very fine Setter, of uncommon bottom, was forced to give up entirely, completely 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 coidd 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 few moments, and we were fearful that we should be obliged to shoul- der and carry him to a farm-house, a considerable distance off. However, he succeeded with much difl&- culty in reaching the well, where he greedily drank several pints of water, administered 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 remarkably well, and seemed to suffer little or no inconvenience from the want of water. The Setter has natural claims upon the sportsman and man generally, in his affectionate disposition and attachment to his master, 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 surrounded, and hunts equally as well for a stranger as his master." i ' In this testimony in behalf of the Setter on the part of an American gentleman, of scientific no less than sportsmanlike attainments, 1 shall add the following quotation from " Craven's Recreations in Shooting," a very clever English work — in which, by the way, I find myself quoted, without credit, as an American sports- man, concerning our field-sports — in which the question is fully debated, and the excellence of the Russian Setter upheld by competent authority. ;ry fine ;ive up mouth ly, and ,s. nervous nell nor laced at one leg oments, 3 shou)- iderable ch diffi- j drank caution, i a look loments^ k, and a 3ly well, ice from ns upon ctionate le many y whom or those as well the part ss than allowing ■ting," a , I find sports- juestion Russian UPLAND SHOOTING. 331 " Having now disposed," says Craven, " of that which by a slight license, may be termed the' poetry of shoot- ing, before entering upon its mere household stuff, allusion comes in aptly to its intellectual agents. Although as a principle, we have recommended the use of the Pointer vr especial to the young disciple 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 ground; in beauty of form and grace of attitude ; in variety of colour, and elegance of clothing, 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, we have much pleasure in laying before the reader the opinion on this subject of one of the most experienced autho- rities in England. We speak of Mr. Lang, the well- ,. own gun-maker of the Haymarket, to whom we are Indebted for the subjoined letter to that interesting inquiry : — ^* ' Having had considerable experience in breeding from some of the first kennels in England, Ireland, and Scotland — amongst them those of the late Duke of Gordon, Captain Ross, Mr. Osbaldiston, and other celebrated sportsmen; and having also spent many years, and much money, in the endeavour to produce a superior description of Pointers and Setters, an account of my progress may be useful. I begin with my opinions concerning Pointers, by stating where I con- sider them, superior, and where inferior, to Setters. " * Pointers are better for Partridge* shooting, as they are milder in disposition, more tractable, and closer rangers ; the latter a property of all others the most desirable, if you want to kill birds after the first * It must be remembered that this quotation is from an English book, and that the English Partridge is the bird spoken of above, there being no Partridge in America. The argument held above would be perfectly applicable to Quail-shooting, vrere Quail only found in the open ; but as they betake themselves, as soon as flushed, to the densest covert, the Setter is here, more than anywhere, in the ascendant. I 332 FIELD SPORTS. ll i fortnight in the season. They want also less water than Setters, who often suffer much in hot weather, in dis- tricts where it is not be found. True, Pointers require more walking to, to beat their ground properly ; but I am persuaded, that if, instead of racing through the middle of a field, as though they were walking for a wager, and thus giving their dogs no earthly chance, young sportsman were to go slo'Fer than they generally do, they would do more justice to themselves, their dogs, and their preserves. Few Pointers can stand work on the moors — where the cream of all shooting is to be had— unless they have been bred, or have been regularly worked on them. ^' " ' I know many gentlemen who greatly prefer them, when so bred, to Setters ; but Scotch Pointers are not so highly-bred as south-country dogs, and therefore more calculated for rough work. Many are crossed with the Foxhound, which gives them speed and courage as well as hardness of foot ; but the produce of the first cross is generally too high mettled to be managed with ease, being difficult to break from running Hares, or to down-charge ; and, for the most part, very hard-mouthed. You may reckon on six days out of every twelve being rainy in the Highlands ; the wet, and injuries from burnt heather, &c., cause the Pointer soon to become foot- sore, particularly between the toes, as he has no hair to protect the feet, like the Setter. High-bred Pointers are also delicate in their appetites, and will not eat the Scotch meal at first. Gentlemen should have plenty of greaves sent to their shooting-quarters to mix with it, as meat can seldom be had in the remote Grouse coun- tries. They should give orders that their dogs should be fed immediately on their return from the hills, and their feet carefully washed with salt and water : indeed, if gentlemen saw to those things themselves, they would find tlieir account in it, observing that such dogs as would not feed well were never taken out the follow- ing day. * A stitch in time saves nine,' is a good whole- some maxim. ;er than in dis- require ; but I [igh the ig for a chance, enerally s, their n stand oting is ve been 3r them, are not herefore crossed courage the first jed with or to louthed. being m burnt ae foot- hair to :*ointers eat the enty of with it, e coan- should Us, and indeed, , they ch dogs follow- who^e- UPLAND SHOOTING. 333 s ** ' I now proceed to spealc of the Setter. The Irish Setters are very beautiful both in and out of the field ; but so hot-headed, that unless always at work, and kept under very strict discipline, they constantly spoil sport for the first hour, frequently the best in the whole day. I have shot to many, and found them all pretty much alike. I had one, the history of whose bad and good qualities would fill half-a-dczen pages. As long as I kept him to regular hard work, a better never entered a field : I refused forty guineas for him, and shot him a month afterwards for his bad deeds. I bred from him, out of an English Setter bitch, and some of the produce turned out very good ; one of them I shot to myself for eight seasons: my reason for parting with him I will presently explain. Unless to throw more dash into my kennel, I should never be tempted again to become master of an Irish Setter. Frequently, Part- ridges are driven into gorse or low cover, in the middle of the day, which few Pointers will face. I know it is not the fashion to shoot to dogs in cover; but most true sportsmen prefer shooting five brace of pheasants to Setters or mute Spaniels, to fifty brace to beaters. In the latter case you stand sometimes an hour together without getting a shot ; and then they rise a dozen at a time, like barn-door fowls, and as many are killed in a few hours as would serve for weeks of fair shooting. ' "* In the season of 1839 I was asked for a week's shooting into Somersetshire, by an old friend, whose science in everything connected with shooting is first- rate. Then, for the first time for many years, I had my dogs, English Setters, beaten hollow. His breed was from pure Russian Setters, crossed by an Eng- lish Setter dog, which some years ago made a sensa- tion in the sporting world, from his extraordinary per- formances ; he belonged to the late Joseph Manton, and had been sold for a hundred guineas. Although I could not but remark the excellence of ray friend's dogs, yet it struck me, as I had shot over my own old favourite Setter — ^who had himself beat many good ones, and ( 334 FIELD SPORTS. /^ never before been beaten — for eight years, that his nose could not have been right, for the Russians got three points to his one. I therefore resolved to try some others against 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 ghbourhood of his Yorkshire moors, with his recom- .■endation I purchased them. I shot to them in August, 1810, and their beauty and style of perform- ance were spoken of in terms of praise by a correspon- dent to a sporting paper. In September I took them into Somersetshire, fully anticipating that I should give the Russians the go-by; but I was again disappointed. I found, from the wide ranging of my dogs, and the noise consequent on their going so fast through stub- bles and turnips — particularly in the middle of the day, when the sun was powerful, and there was but little scent — that they k them )uld give •pointed, and the gh stub- the day, but little 1)5 out of he game Russians, uartering possess- or cold, lat mine d bird ; he first in stand- a severe Scotland Dgs were lad been aware of ians, be with a ■an pup- ineas for '. Since eral dogs UPLAND SHOOTING. 335 of high character, but nothing that I have yet seen could equal them. If not taken out for 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 they are in condition, they cannot be too frequently hunted ; and their tempers, style of working, &c., be- come 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 Setter, 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 efiiciently. It is a common practice for keepers to take their dogs out for an hour or two, twice or thrice a week, morning or evening, just before the com- mencement of the season — what would be thought of training a horse in that way, for a race over the flat, or a steeple-chase ! Hard and constant work is as neces- sary for a dog, that has to hunt from morning to night, and frequently for several successive days, as for a race-horse. He should be taken out two or three 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 week's shooting.' "Another gentleman, a large breeder of sporting dogs, thus answered our queries as to the kind of animal best suited to the general purpose of shooting : — " ' I 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 account of their requiring I 336 FIELD SPORTS. more water ; but there are generally sufficient springs and peat-holes on the moors for them ; and, even in the early part 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 the wet in the bogs, without coming to heel, shiver- ing like a pig 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, war;;3 his tail, and forgets it much sooner than Carlo, the Pointer. My 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, perhaps, not start quite so flash in the morning. " ' I always teacli one, at least, of my dogs to bring his game, which saves a world of trouble, both in and out 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 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 im- ported Pointers, and that they proved always equal to them ; in late Snipe-shooting, when the water is cold and skimmed with ice, or in autumn-shooting in thorny and briary covert, they beat 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 leav- ing 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 undeniabl dogs, but the liver UPLAND SHOOTING. 337 springs n in the is to be hooting, le cover, , shiver- nd, too, red, and y get an var^s his Pointer, n every , after a Pointer, Homing, to bring h in and the bird ks prove ssisted a seen and season, id as on and day able ira- equal to is cold n thorny sed, and ring any leir leav- ng them English whom I Setter, >roke by the liver and white was the best retriever I ever" saw. The test of their excellence is in the fact that in 1836, the late Mr. Peter G. Barker, of New York, offered me, and I refused, eight hundred 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. i THE POINTER. It is conceded that this animal is the offspring of ^the two ancient races known as sagaces, or intelligent, and pugnaces or bellicosi, or warlike, and I am inclined to think myself that his share of the latter blood, is even greater than is generally imagined. 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 or affectionate. Neither his temper nor other qualities, except in the field, greatly recon^mend him ; but for the steady pursuit of his game in the open plain, his great caution in not over-running it, his great capacities of endurhig heat, thirst, and his retentive memory of what he has been taught, unqualified by any headstrong or impetuous dash, render him, for the pursuit of some species of animals and for some localities, unrivalled. Of the latter there are few in this country. The sandy Grouse barrens 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 characteristic 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 VOL. I. % 338 FIELD aPORTS. •• II prairies, which are dry and deficient of water, are weU suited for him, as in Wisconsin and parts of Michigan; and there he is prized, and deservedly. Of this Animal there are iwo breeds, separate and conspicuous, of which all the others are varieties, and none of the latter sufficiently peculiar or different either in appearance or qualifications to merit any especial description or notice. These two breeds are the Old Spanish Pointer, which is the origin and type of the race, and the im- proved, or Enolihh 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-bred English dog. "The Spanish Pointer," says Mr. Youatt, "origin- ally a native of Spain, was once considered to be a valuable dog. He stood higher on his legs, but was too large and heavy in his limbs, and had widely spread ugly feet, exposing him to frequent lameness. His muzzle and head were large, corresponding with the acuteness of his smell. His ears were large and pendent, and his body ill-formed. He was naturally an ill-tempered dog, growling at the hand that would caress him, even 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^ un- equalled in any other kind of dog. " To convince our readers of the value of this parti- cular breed, we may mention the very singular sale of Col. Thornton's dog Dash, who was purchased by Sir Richard 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 befel the dog he was to be returned to his former owner for fifty guineas. Dash unfortunately broke his leg, and in accordance UPLAND SHOOTING. 339 with the agreement of sale, was returned to the Colonel, who considered him a fortunate acquisition as a stallion to breed from. See Blain or Daniel." Th's animal, which was once considered very valu- able, is now entirely superseded by the improved, or English dogs. He was often what is vulgarly called double-nosed^ having a deep furrow between the nostrils ; and to this peculiarity, I have heard the excellence of their scenting powers attributed, of course absurdly. Mr. Youatt, on the contrary, 1 am surprised to see, attributes the deficiency of the same powers, in a certain French breed, having the like deformity, to the same cause. I quite agree with Ur. Lewis, in regarding any such reason, whether fur 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 parti- cularly 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 are familiar; but we will endeavour to mention the most striking points of the species, which marks can be referred to as guide s in the purchase of a dog. " It is a difficult matter to put on paper, in a manner satisfactory either to the reader or writer, the peculiari- ties of any animal, whereby he may be judged pure or mixed. However, there are, generally, some few points in each species, that can be selected as proofs of their genuinen .3s and ability to perform certain actions pecu- liar 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 the purchaser selects — and Q 2 340 FIELD SPORTS. what is better than either, from actual ol)8ervation in the field ; all of wliich precautions may, nevertheless, prove al)ortive, and our dog he worthless. " As regards the size of the English Pointer, we may say, that he averages in length aliout three feet, from the tip of the muzzle to the base of the tail, and from twenty-two to twenty-six inches high. His head not bulky, nor too narrow, the frontal sinuses largely deve- loped. " 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, there is too much of the hound pre- sent. The eyes lively, but not too prominent; the neck rather long, and not over thick, the chest broad, 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 propor- tion with the fore members; the tail long and ta})er- mg." To this there is very little to be added, except that the higher the breed, the shorter, the sleeker, and the more satiny the skin, and the thinner the ear. Any tendency to long hair about the stern or legs, hints loudly at a Setter cross, which improves neither the temper nor the qualities of the dog. Like Setters, Pointers are of all colours, and 1 know not that cny colour has the preference; but as in the Setter I should distrust liver colour, which I regard as properly a Pointer colour, 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-coloured ears and faces, having a light tan spot over each eye, and a tan shadow- ing round the muzzle, and a few liver spots on the body. No tint is preferable to this. Black and tan is an undenial)le, though uncommon colour for the Pointer, coming probably from Foxhound blood; and pure black dogs are frequent and good. 1 dislike a black and UPLAND SHOOTING. 341 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 infinitely 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 this strain tearing their way through cat-briar brakes, literally bleeding at every pore, and whimpering with pain, v/hile 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 v» hom I believe vt tells the most, down to the bullock and the Berksh i<5 hog, I am an implicit believer in the efficacy of 1 loud and breeding to develop all qualities, especi'..A;' courage to do and courage to bear — as well as to ^rodace the highest and most delicate nervous organization ; and I would as willingly have a cur in my shooting-kennel as a mule in my racing-stable, if I had one. I will now proceed to notice briefly, as becomes the scantiness of his use in this country. THE COCKING SPANIEL. This beautiful, intelligent, and '^seful dog, which, like the Pointer, is, as his name iu'!\eates, probably of Spanish origin, is very little known or used in this country, except as a pet and rtlaything for ladies ; and yet there is no country in the world for which, from the great prevalence of woodland over open shooting, the great thickness and severity of the covert, and the peculiar species of game, it would be more useful. There are many varieties of tliis beautiful, active, and industrious little dog, but the best and most adapted for this country is the large Cocking Spaniel, or Springer, which is found in the greatest perfection in Sussex. 342 FIELD SPORTS. This dog, which is probably the original stock of the Setter, cannot be better described than as resembling a Setter in the same degree as a punchy, powerful, short- legged p6ny resembles a well-bred horse. It is very t'trong and bony for its size, and has great industry, indefatigable spirit, and indomitable courage — nay ! its faults partake of these latter qualities, as it is wont to be rash, impetuous, and headstrong. One of the greatest drawbacks io its excellence in England would not exist in this country, — I mean its propensity to chase Hares, which abound in many preserves there to such a degree that they are bouncing up at every step, and the Spaniels are yelping and yaifing after them all the time. Here the Hare is comparatively a rare animal, and in this respect the temptation of the Spaniel to wildnes:^ would be very greatly diminished in the United States or in Canada. The head of the Spaniel, and especially the nose, is proportionably much shorter than that of the Setter, the frontal sinuses more fully developed, the eye larger and more prominent, the ears much longer and more curly, some so long that they literally seem as if they were intended "to sweep away the morning 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 colours, but 1 prefer the Blen- heim colour, rich orange and white, with a full moist e^ J and coal-black nose and palate. They require great steadiness and constant attention, I '»th in the breaking, and the hunting when broken ; but firmness, coupled with general mildness, and con- stancy of temper, with occasional severity, will easily prevail, and render them nearly perfect. As they flush their game immediately, without stand- ing or crouching, it is absolutely necessary that they should be under perfect command j they must never be above ten or fifteen paces distant from the gun, and they must be trained, until it has become their second UPLAND SHOOTING. 343 nature and instinct^ to slacken their pace, instead of increasing it, when they strike the trail of game, 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 dis* charged, 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 dropping to charge, of infinite importance with all dogs, is even mor eimport- ant with the Springer, or Cocking Spaniel, than with 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 blunder, 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-shoot- ing, 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 sportsmen 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 highly-bred, and well-broke Springers, of the large breed, this autumn, and to establish the breed. Should I be fortunate in my endeavours, it will be a source of much pleasure to me to accommodate sports- men desirous of trying the experiment with some of the progeny, and with my best advice and instructions as to their management and use. 344 FIELD SPORTS. Haying thus disposed of the three species of dog used in Upland shooting, I shall proceed shortly to lay down a few plain and general rules, for their treat- ment in the kennel and the field, their condition, break- ing, and some of their more ordinary and dangerous diseases, and then pass onward to fowl-shooting on the shores of the Atlantic. U :-|M -^^( END OF VOL. I. "^ffm^-- LoKDON: Printed by Schulze and Co., 13, Poland Street.