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be satisfied to take home twenty birds. A good bayman always takes pleasure in instructing the novice as to signals and decoying tricks, such as kicking the foot up to attract the attention of a bunch to shoot; not to be in too much of a hurry and yet as quick as a flash..
Point shooting, or shooting from a blind off shore, may not offer such rapid firing, but will afford to the antihog just as good sport. Of course, when in a blind on shore you may not be bothered with some special breeds of the duck family, but you can expect black duck, shelldrake and coots sure, with an occasional call from the best that flies.
It is possible to construct a blind, cosey and comfortable, and bid defiance to any sort of weather. The difficulty is in retrieving your game. The better the conditions for point shooting the quicker the attendance necessary. had the misfortune to be blown across the bay once in a living gale, and nothing but being a sort of a boatman saved me. You can guess how bad it was when I had to take off one of my rubber boots, to "bail out" the boat with.
This close shave happened attending
to a point in a sharpie. There is no finer sport than battery and blind shooting on the Great South Bay.
Another recreation which has just passed its infancy is scootering; and certainly if the number of scooters which have been in use on the bay, and the number of new ones which will be launched this year, as soon as the ice forms, be taken into consideration, one must admit here is a very popular sport. A great deal has been said of the scooter. Magazines have sent their photographers and writers here to portray the little craft at work, and describe its uses, so the scooter is not unknown. A boat with runners, mainsail and jib, capable of making a mile a minute on the ice, capable of flopping off the ice into the water, and, by good handling, able to mount on the ice again. Clubs have been formed along the bay front, and an association, The Great South Bay Scooter Association, will take care of the management of contests and make laws to govern the sport.
A scooter race is always intensely interesting. The little craft are off and 'round the stakes light lightning. A more exciting and thrilling picture does
not exist in the world of sport than a scooter, with four of a crew under full sail and with a good breeze rounding a stake.
Two men in a scooter caught a wild duck on the wing. Seeing a black speck on the ice a mile away, with no particular aim in view but to make rapid flights across the bay, this object suggested a mark to run for. When within three hundred yards they knew it was a duck.
"Let's see if we can get it!" shouted the man at the main sheet. Before the
words had left his lips they were upon it. Up in the air went the duck, and the man at the jib reached for it and caught it.
A fox has been hunted on the ice with a scooter, and it is possible to arrange a fox hunt on the bay should no interference occur. Along the sand dunes many a red fox lives, and both ocean and bay contribute to his keep.
Another fine old game is fishing with a kite. When the wind blows from the northern board your kite is let loose over the ocean, with pulley block and
line, and many a fish has been landed in this fashion at the feet of the aërial angler. Not the least entertaining and interesting event is the hauling of the surf nets.
With a party of gentlemen I have walked along the moonlit beach and kicked fish ashore. It is a quiet night, and whiting and ling are after the shiners, which hang in close to the water's edge. A whiting makes a dart for one of these morsels, and finds himself left on the sand. This is where you wade in with your rubber boots and assist him to where he is easily taken. There is a great fascination about the bay, a
never-ending source of interest. Visitors here breathe the air as if they meant to store a quantity. Appetites are ravenous, and the best of grub is always at hand. (The baymen are good cooks, and know how to cater to the grub end.) Men used to down beds in the palace homes of New York sleep in any old place, get up and stretch as they did when they were growing, shake themselves like Newfoundland dogs, and are ready for anything. And I have yet to me et the man, woman or child who didn't terminate a vacation on the Great South Bay with a sigh of regret.
The Spirit of the Po-tog-on-og
But never can trump
The stump, stump, stump,
That gulluped the fog for a morning grog-
* Po-tog-on-og is the plural of Ojibway for the hollow log used in
By CHARLES A. BRAMBLE
VERY New Yorker who has a drop of sporting blood in his veins knows, at least in hazy, indefinite fashion, that there is more
or less sport to be had on Long Island. He knows that somewhere or other great quantities of wild fowl are occasionally shot. He has also heard legends of more or less mythical quail, and the deer hunting is brought to his notice prominently each November when ten hundred irresponsible, irrational gunners descend upon the island to shoot deer and one another. This is, indeed, a strenuous time in the lives of the natives. A careful computation shows that 765 shots are fired for every head of game brought down, while the percentage of mortality amongst the hunters may average one for every score of deer brought to bag. But of exact knowledge concerning Long Island's resources amongst the said New Yorkers there is a painful lack. Let it be my endeavor to supply, as far as possible, in one brief paper, some precise infor
Having before us the map of Long Island, we may dismiss as unworthy of further consideration all those overcivilized regions to the westward of a line drawn from Hempstead Harbor to East Rockaway. Here an epidemic of bricks and mortar, cheap cottages and electric railroads, form an unpromising combination from which the sportsman is only too glad to cut loose. To the eastward of this imaginary dead line, we shall find, however, many places where the man with easily contented spirit and good stock of perseverance may secure quite as good a
reward as he has any right to expect so near New York City.
Indeed, it occasionally happens that even further west, Jamaica Bay, to-wit: there is quite fair shooting for duck during the hard weather. Yet, when we have gone so far, why stop short of quarters where sport is more certain? The waters of Hempstead, South Oyster, Great South, Moriches, Shinnecock, Great and Little Peconic, Gardiner's and Napeague bays absolutely swarm with fowl, from the month of October until they freeze up, late in December. And during such times good bags of wildfowl are made by men who know the where, and the how, and possess the wherewithal. Babylon, Bay Shore, Patchogue, Bayport, Blue Point, East Quogue, Canoe Place, Riverhead, and a dozen other places, are all headquarters from which sport may be had in the proper season and under good conditions.
The deer-hunting ground is down. the centre of the island along the main line of the Long Island Railroad, from Bethpage Junction to Riverhead, the best shooting being probably between Lake Ronkokoma and Calverton.
The North Shore is more of a rabbit and quail country, and just at present is not very inviting for reasons that will be set forth further on.
One advantage Long Island may claim over most of its rivals is, that wherever you go you will find comfortable inns, where, for two dollars a day, you can obtain all necessaries and many luxuries.
The Long Island Railroad gives a superb train service, and by one of its many branches you can reach within a short drive of the wildest and most unfrequented parts of the island. This makes it easy. Moreover, the eastern