Sacramento daily record-union., 1883-11-07

doubt true, up to certain limit, that birds
benefit the farmer and fruit.grower and
vineyardist by preying upon the insects
which impair or destroy the plant and
| the product, whether stalk or tree or
vine. Yet there is limit to this sum OF
benefit, and an excess of loss by the birds (;
and when the producer finds the balance
to be against him, he ought to have the
authority of the law to fairly protect him.
self from the ravager, whether bird or
beast. The men who live in cities and
hunt for pleasure or sport ought not to be
favored to the disparagement or loss of the
farmer. Yet this is practically the effect
of the game law in this State, as it was
abundantly shown in the discussion of the
subject at the last session of the Legisla-
ture, when the msjority of each house
maintained the proposition that, as between
the agriculturist and the quail, the former
should suffer and the birds be assured pro-
lection; and that, rather than have the
pleasure and sport of the hunter curtailed,
in arbitrarily enforcing the close season,
and giving him full license to indulge in
his pastime and excitement in his chosen
season, the farmer should be punished IN
case he killed the birds which he found de-
stroying his crops. Eventually the farmers
will learn the Importance OF electing
enough of their own calling and interests
to the Legislature to frame and enact laws
which shall guard their rights, at least
against birds and beasts, and trespassers
who hunt either or both merely for the
sport it affords.
PossUM AND PoTAToEs.-In barber
shop one day last week, says the Americus
(Ga Recorder, while several gentlemen
were waiting to be shaved, the conversa-
tion turned on good things to eat. After
discussing various dishes, Joe Roney, who
is considered a connoisseur, and who had
taken an active part in the discussion,
said Well, boys, you can all talk about
nice things to eat, but the best thing III the
world | ever tasted was possum, hedged in
with brown gravy and sweet potatoes, with
sugar on them" 1t struck US that Joe
knew what he was talking about and we
determined to investigate the first time we
had an opportunity. We soon had the
chance. Walt Furlow extended an invita-
tion soon after to go out to his plantation
and assist in a genuine oldfashioned pos
sum hunt, with an hour or two of squirrels
man in Northwest Georgia who has not ex-
perienced the glories of possum hunt. 1t
is not for their benefit, therefore, that we
not feel particularly interested in them,
but we must beg the excuse that some one
will, for we are full to overlooking with the
good of the hunt, and must tell some one.
On every plantation there is one or more
darkies who do the possum and coon hunt
ing who can tell you to hairs breadth
where to find them. Mr. Furlow's planta.
tion is no exception. There is negro there
named Jim that knows all about it, and
what he don't know his dogs do. His dogs
are his life and soul; he would rather you
would steal his wife than his dogs, for he |
reasons that another wife he could get,
but another dog as good as Rock, Jack |
or Pap, never. Rock is his boss dog"
and when his deep bay is heard you
can lay your last dollar and wager it |
that that possum will be treed. The |
first nights experience was tame one we |
got into dry piece Of woods and struck |
but one possum track but we got that |
possum. The next night we had every !
thing in fine shape, and between and 9 |
o'clock we started out Down the road to |
the woods we went, stopping long enough |
to get several handfuls of good lighter, and |
then into the forest we went. Scarcely |
fifteen minutes had passed before bark |
was heard, succeeded few moments later |
by another and then another. A trail had |
been struck. The voices of the dogs grew |
more frequent, until at length long con-
tinuous bay from the leader announced |
that the possum was treed. A few mo- |
ments' walk brought US to him, but the |
scene around the tree battles description. |
With bark after bark the dogs circled |
around, now shifting, and trying in vain to |
climb up the sapling. A few blows from |
the ak brought the tree down, and the next |
moment the possum was in the jaws of the |
dogs, forty feet away. He had started to |
run as soon as the tree fell, but the dogs |
ran too quickly. As soon as they had a
taste of him they were satisfied. 1t is re-
but a possum dog will never eat
a possum or the bones of one. The game |
scene was repeated twice more, varied by |
long tramps through swamps, cotton and |
corn fields. The small hours of the morn
ing had arrived when we went to bed, but |
we consoled ourselves with the thought of |
the feast we would have the next day, and |
such feast it was On big dish in the |
center of the table, brown and fat, the |
possum looked like it was good, but it was
better than it looked. 1t was meal lit
for kings, but which anybody could have
for the trouble OF the hunt. 1t was the
first possum we ever ate, but if our legs
hold out it will not be the last. Joe Roney
was right. There is nothing that will beat
the possum.