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any small live things which I captured and needed for observation. It was what in the olden days the showman used to call a "happy family" that occupied this cage, but the happy part represents only the showman's way of putting things. There was a flying squirrel in this cage, and he took a malicious delight in tormenting the black snake. The serpent was a cautious hunter. He would move around so slowly that the motion was scarcely perceptible, in his attempt to gain a vantage ground from which to strike and capture his tormentor, and his care and woodcraft deserved success, but the quarry was shy and wise with the wisdom of the wood folks, and if the black snake could strike quickly the squirrel could jump even more swiftly than the snake could strike. Time and time again the squirrel crept chattering down the sides of the cage until he had tempted the black snake to spring at him-if we can use such an expression to designate the motion, which was simply a sudden straightening out of a loop made in the shiny black neck-and, although the snake's motion when attacking was apparently as rapid as that of the shutter of a camera, his poor nose would come with a bang against the hard, unyielding wires, and the squirrel would be in the top of the cage ready to repeat the manoeuver. At last, in sheer pity for the snake's wounded nose, I took the reptile by the tail and pulled him from the cage and tossed him down on the damp ground under the ferns, where he might find life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness without the company of flying squirrels. It was a fine specimen of black snake. Every motion of his glistening body betokened strength and grace, and I was very anxious to make a careful study of it, for I have none among my sketches, but, because of the unceasing persecution of the flying squirrel, I liberated my model and allowed it to escape.

While on this subject it may be interesting to my readers to know that one of the largest sized garter snakes stood no show in a tussle with an ordinary chipmunk, because I saw a chipmunk jump upon a garter snake, and, although the snake wound its sinuous body around the squirrel, the latter seemed not in the least troubled by the embrace, but quietly gnawed off the head of the snake, and then, taking it in his little paws, it sat on its hind legs and ate it up as it would a hickory nut. My readers must not understand by these remarks that I approve of, or even intentionally, took a hand in causing any of these sanguinary encounters, but when one is col

lecting live specimens for sketching purposes, even though he gives them all their freedom after they have served him as models, there are bound to be some unadvertised and unscheduled scrapes where the race problem comes to the front, and the hereditary prejudices and antipathies have an opportunity of venting themselves.

A little white-footed mouse which I had in a cage with a garter snake, but for which I provided a safe retreat in one corner, so fixed that the snake could not enter it, became so enraged at the presence of its enemy that it left its safe retreat to attack the monster snake, for monster it was in comparison with the size of the little mouse; but I doubt if this would have happened in the open. It was probably the maternal instinct which prompted the little mother mouse to come out and attack its great foe, but, whatever it was, out she came and jumped right for the snake, much to the latter's surprise. Her small teeth, although capable of inflicting a painful bite on my finger, were not long enough to do any injury to the garter snake, and before I could open the cage to interfere the latter had bitten the mouse severely on one of its hind feet, but, for the comfort of the tender-hearted breeder, I will say that I took the snake from the cage and liberated it; also, that I kept the mother mouse until her foot had healed, and when I let her go in the woods her injury would only be perceptible from a slight limp as she went hopping over a moss-covered log to her old home in the rotten trunk of a tree.


Deep in the hemlock gloom,
When rhododendrons bloom,
Or snowflakes filter through,
Awhiting all the sere anew;

When bold hepaticas first frolic at the heel
Of lingering chill, in wayward zeal,
Or when the garniture of wood compels
To sunset sky to rouse in envious chromic

Your self-announced, piping voice
To me intones true wood-bourgeois.
No study in convention school of art!
You choose as yours the simple part
Of honest woodman, skilled in craft
No toil of conning can engraft.
O happy, noisy, tumbling acrobat,
I love your black cap and cravat;
My winter would be long without your glee,
You happy, noisy, romping chickadee.



Noting the great interest shown by your "laymen editors" who write of a new style single action revolver with the "swing out cylinder," permit me to add my name to the list. The discussion relative to this arm is most interesting, so much so, I purchase RECREATION that I may benefit thereby.

I note particularly that your contributors do not seem to be aware of the fact that were the Colt people to put out such a "gun" there would be no need to waste time in regard to calibres and lengths of barrel. It would be merely a case of using the same calibres, the same cylinders and the same lengths as they do now-and always have. The only difference would be

the fact that the frame would be made to look as much as possible like an old-time "Frontier '45," with a swing out cylinder of single action, with rebounding hammer -all exceedingly easy.

I might suggest, for the benefit of the makers, that if they turn out such a "gun," the breech-plate of the frame (i.e., backing to cartridges) be more substantial than are those used in the "New Service" frames, and made with the idea that smokeless powders will be used exclusively.

The time has come for revolver makers to resign themselves to the fact that the arms they turn out must be guaranteed to stand smokeless charges in like measure as have the old black powder weapons.

There is no reason whatsoever that all revolvers should not be so constructed. I have had my experiences. I do not care to set them down here.

The reason so much interest centers on the model as suggested by Mr. Haynes is that such an arm embraces the romance of the old days, when the '45 was king, and, too, it resembles so much the type of revolver that made Mosby and his men well-nigh invincible. We cling to memories of the past. We love to see the old Kentucky rifle hanging above the fire-place and the great powder-horn beside it. Hence, we want a revolver now really modern, but in appearance suggestive of the days of conquest.

I predict that for years to come revolver shooting will be the fad-a permanent, prac

ticable fad. The people are but only awakening to the beauties of the sport. Army officers are devoting much time to a study of it, finally realizing that henceforth it is to play by far a greater part in war than ever before thought of.

The "automatic" is the gun of the future, and may be rated in comparison with revolvers as were revolvers with flint locks.

I carry a Luger carbine-pistol, having a 12-in. barrel, day in and day out-day and night on hunting trips, suspended from a shoulder arm-pit holster, also a .44 S. & W. heavy S. A., or a Colt's of the same calibre. They never tire me. I hunt exclusively with these "guns."

I desire such a "gun" as was shown in your October issue. Have encouraged the Colt's people to realize that they make no mistake by turning out such a one. If they do, it naturally follows they will also make all calibres just as easily as they do nowand without added expense.

They will sell like hot cakes. I may here add that if they do not there may be other makers who will have sufficient perception to respond to the unusual demand for such a "gun."

I wish to congratulate RECREATION readers because they had the privilege of reading Mr. Harry H. Dunn's account of "his" Death Valley game preserve, a brief description of the Amargosa River (in December issue)-the "Amagosh," as the desert men call it. I have been in that region twice during the past twenty years. It will be a famous place ere long.

Harry H. Morris.


I have just returned from my annual hunting trip and am so exceedingly well pleased with the little .303 Featherweight Savage that I just want to say to you that it is in my opinion the ideal all-round rifle for large and small game. I actually believe if the merits of this little gun were fairly presented to the sportsmen of this country there would be very little demand for heavier rifles.

W. L. Marble, Gladstone, Mich.



While I am not a regular subscriber to your most interesting magazine, still I manage to get hold of a copy pretty regularly at the newsdealers, and have had much pleasure and have taken a good deal of interest in the various discussion of arms and ammunition, although for a number of years

cussion on sights, both for field and target practice. I will not attempt to discuss the merits of the different makers, but I enclose a rough pen sketch of a sight that is little known, although to my idea, and I think any marksman who once uses it will agree with me, that it is the finest sight he ever looked through. Its features are that the bead is always shaded, no matter in

Side Elevation

past I have been unable to enter upon the sports of the field; still, there was a time back in the early '70s and late '80s when I stood among the "mighty hunters" on the Pacific Coast and handled all of the popular guns of that time, ranging from the old 1876 Winchester .32-.20 to the heavier calibres of 45-70 Government. My idea now is what it was then, and my experience has upheld me, that there is no sense nor use of using large, heavy calibres for any game that treads the American continents; small, high-power ammunition is just as effective and does not ruin the game for use. A small ball well aimed and driven home to brair or heart will kill the biggest grizzly that ever lived. Of course, a man may be a novice and a poor shot, and thinks he must take along a cannon of such calibre that no matter where he hits his game he may at least find a few pieces of fur and hide scattered around, but his trophy is gone. Then, again if he is not a marksman, and a good one, and if he cannot face a grizzly coolly and as calmly as he would a jackrabbit, he had much better, yes, very much better, stay at home, because the chances

what position you may stand, and that you do not have to raise it when it is desired to shoot at long range, simply by drawing fine or coarse, or for very long ranges draw fine or coarse through the tops of the horns (the originator was a man who used to live at Petaluma, Cal.), and when used in connection with the ivory tip front-sight makes a remarkably clear sight. The ivory-tipped


front-sight, which is credited and named the Lyman sight, does not belong to him. I made the first ivorytipped steel sight ever made: although I do not claim the idea, which belongs exclusively to Mr. George Hood, Jr., of Santa Rosa, Cal., a particular friend of mine. The way it came to be invented was: We had been using up to that time (1879-80) an ivory front-sight, but were having trouble by having them broken off in going through heavy brush, and in casting about for some device that should have strength, yet possess all the good qualities of the ivory sight, Mr. Hood hit upon the happy idea of steel and ivory, and being at the time too busy to make one himself, I, at his request, made the trial. I enclose one


are he will never get back home; personally, I think the late high-power guns of the Winchester models 1894-1895, using the .25--35, 30 and 30 U. S. cartridges, to be preferred above all others; even the little .25-.35 is a hard-hitting, deadly arm, and for the other two, they are past argument; their crushing and killing power is enormous.

I noticed also in the November issue a dis

of those first attempts, though it is somewhat rusty and was only intended to illustrate the idea which we afterwards improved by securing the ivory more securely. Several years afterwards a traveling man happened that way and was shown the sight, and about eighteen months after lo and behold the Lyman Ivory-Tipped Front-Sight (now, I do not write this with any hard

feelings, because I have none, but merely to give credit where credit is due), I am glad that the sight has been placed on the market for the benefit of sportsmen, knowing that it is a good one, and I doubt if it would ever have been put on the market by either of us, so no harm was done and much benefit derived. Hoping I have not taken too much of your valuable time, I am,

R. L. Sheward, Council Bluffs, Iowa. N. B. That is an exceptionally fine piece of work on the November cover.



tion. Each month I hurry home with the latest copy of RECREATION to spend a few pleasant hours in reading its interesting contents. To have, as it were, a chat with fellow sportsmen from all parts of America. Perhaps a few lines from Quebec, the home of the deer, bear, moose and caribou, will be of some interest to a few readers of RECREATION who some days back have hunted in this province, or of value to some who in days to come will pay us a visit and carry off some choice game heads from this province, the "Sportsmen's Paradise." I am a lover of woodlands and lakes, which naturally made me a user of the rifle, field-glass and camera. Since boyhood rifle shooting has been my hobby, and the wilderness my paradise. Hounding deer or moose is prohibited by law. We have to be our own dog and do our own barking. The Caughnawaga Indian, or the half-breeds, all masters in the art on big-game hunting, some times take a fancy to some of us paleface amateur hunters and teach us lots about the woods, haunts and habits of game, that we might never know if left to our own barrel

R. L. S.


I should like very much to know if the enclosed description of a rfle I got from a gun dealer is a Mauser rifle, as the man said it was. It's a carbine, with 22-inch barrel, and about a 7 m. m. calibre, and is sighted for 1800 yards or metres. The magazine is filled from a metal clip containing five cartridges; the barrel is encased in jacket or light steel cylinder, the nose end of the barrel passing loosely through the end of the barrel jacket. The only name is this on the barrel, "Fabrique National HerstalLiege," and No. 04 on every part of the gun which is likely to break. I would like to know is it a Mauser rifle, and whose make, and if it's a late model and what is the calibre?

M. T. M., Lesserdog Creek, B. C.

No man could tell you the calibre or your Mauser without seeing it or one of the cartridges. It may not be a Mauser, though I think it is. The Mannlicher action is very similar to the Mauser. It is one of those two, probably. The calibre may be 7 mm. or 7.62 mm. Both calibres are used in Conti

nental armies.

The only way to be sure of the calibre in your case is to take a sulphur cast of the chamber and a few inches of the barrel and submit it to an expert. This is very easy to do, and if you cannot procure sulphur you might do it with plaster of paris, but, in that case, be very careful you don't rust your rifle.

To take a cast, insert a cork down the barrel from the breech and about two inches into the rifling. Pour your fluid, heated sulphur, into the chamber until it is full, allow it to solidify; and press it out with a ramrod from the muzzle or, if you use plaster, mix your plaster to the consistency of a thick cream, oil the chamber well and pour in.-EDITOR.


I am a reader of your magazine and pay particular attention to guns and ammuni


sources. Old hunters' advice to me has been carefully followed. They have been through the mill and know from whence they speak, to become a good marksman is the main thing of value to a sportsman. Practice offhand, and learn to hit what you're shooting at. Never depend on a second shot simply because you are using a repeating rifle. Make the first shot count when big game is the object; perhaps it's the only shot you'll get. If you miss it will teach you to be careful. Experience is the best education. It comes high, but you will never forget the lessons it taught you. The success of your hunting trip may some day depend on a single shot. Prepare for that critical moment and you'll go home with venison instead of a hardluck story. Deer are very plentiful in this part of the province. Sometimes they are shot within a mile and a quarter of this town, which has a little over 3,000 inhabitants. Bear are frequently seen and occasionally shot within five or six miles from here. But Bruin is a good hand at playing hide-andseek and is hard to get a shot at. I shot one three weeks ago; my new .32 special Winchester, 94 model, tasted bear meat for first time. A hundred and fifty yards' off hand shot did great damage to Bruin's shoulders, and cut short his roving days. For year I used the .38-55, .40-82 and .45-90 Winchester rifles, all good guns. But the little .32 Special, to my mind, is the best cartridge ever placed on the market for big game hunting in the province. Deer, bear, moose and caribou fall before its deadly fire as if struck by lightning. I shot a large buck with it the first part of October last. The ball entered its left side about centre, coming out slightly forward on

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