Morning journal and courier., 1883-10-03
Rail-shooting on the Marshes.
How the BavOry Little Birds are Ragged What Puzzles the Pushers.
 From the Baltimore Sun.l

RaiI-Shooting on the Marshes.
 How the BavOry Little Birds are Ragged
 What Puzzles the Pushers.
 From the Baltimore sun.l
 Rail shooting on the saltwater marshes of Maryland and Delaware is now in it's zenith. The birds are here by tens of thousands, and the scattered wild oats have covered their succulent little bones with savory fat that is so welcome to the epicure's palate The marshes of the Patuxent river have for the past two weeks been almost overrun by hunt CTS from Washington and Baltimore, but the mysterious and cheerful T0l3uS has not been at all discouraged, and his family has appa- rently suffered no decrease Bags have been made by single sportsmen in single tides as high as 21O. Very few who have gone out have failed to make moderate bags, and there is the unfailing reed bird, which anybody can kill if the rail proves so unkind as to de- cline to fly in the way of the shot.
 Rail shooting possesses an individuality as distinct as does duck-shooting. You go af- ter them as you go for no other game bird. Usually expense, hard work, wet feet and bad cold are necessary attendants on the sport. It has, however, peculiar fascina tion that no gunner can putt aside. The rail is 8 queer little bird. Naturalists know quite as much of the habits of the prehisto ric apteryx as they do of the rail beyond the 61LQpl6 1ACLb GQ6G u9 IS OI a DTOWu-RE0Su1SA hue, has long green legs and lives in marsh es. Indeed, the very men who make rail killing their business know very little more about them. There are three or four kinds of rail, but they are so much alike thai mo- body can tell them apart. The rail of Mary land is sometimes enormously called the or toian, and is often known as the sora. He is not quite so large as the jacke- -snipe, has long legs, short bill, a rather long neck, perky little tail, totally inadequate wings. At this time of the year he is found on the tide water marshes of the middle States, where he paddles around and grows inordinately fat on the wild oats that are, according to the darkies, being "frazzled out" He who would hunt the rail must have 8 shallow boat that draws about three inches of water, and an able-bodisd man who can ''push' him through the high grass and high tide. The rail hates to fly, but when the bows of the boat are urged upon him he jumps up with feeble futter, and his long green legs dangle out behind as he Hops over the butter weed and sinks down again about ten yards from his starting point. He is not hard to kill only you must be quick about it. If you succeed in abbreviating his flight by sprink- ling few No. 10 shot over him, your pusher will mark and pick him up for you. If you make up your mind to go rail shooting on the Patuxent, load about POO shells On the day before put two and on0-half drarns of pow der and three quarters of an ounce of shot in eachs clean your breech-loader and carry your wiper with you, for constant firing will foul the barrels Go down to Upper Marl- boro or Nottingham, on the Pope Creek line, in the evening, and make your arrangements for an early start. Along the Patuxent river, which divides Anne Arundel and Prince Georges counties from Mount Pleasant ferry nearly to the mouth, there are flat marshes which overflow at high tide. These marshes cover thousands of acres and are grown up in the rankest vegetation. At numerous points along the river contiguous to the marshes boats and pushers may be hired for two dollars per tide. A tide lasts not over four hours. If you want a steady, hard working pusher, get white man. If you want to be entertained with choice dialect ex- periences, instead of pushed over the best marshes, get colored man. If you are a greenhorn, lazy pusher will send you around where there is no possibility of sport simply because it is easier upon his constitu-, tion He will be quick after your two dol lars though, and grumble if you don't share your lunch and your flask with him. The colored pushers, when they are not pushing, are usually spending their money around some country store. The white men, as rule, own comfortable houses and are farm CTS and tobacco -raisers in a small way. So much for the pushers
 Supposing you age launched upon the Pa tuxent about the ''screech' of dawn by one of these energetic gentlemen who propels skittish little flat bottom with a single pad dle. He tells you that the flood tides ''a- maxim lak' a mill tail" Down the river you shoot toward the high green grass. The early morning mists hang over the wet land soape, obscuring the distant ridges and re- calling unpleasant thoughts of shakes and quivers The bright sun soon dissipates these, however, and the cats s-paw waves dance in the sunshine. Below you the pop, zI.a AI,okr n--Ia rb6 men must literally have slept on the marshes in order to catch the whole tide. The cries of thousands of blackbirds assail your ears. Every variety of blackbird, from the purple grackle to the chipper little cow-bird, is feed ing on wild oats. The handsome little fel- low with the red crescent on his shoulders is particularly conspicuous. They circle and wheel and hang on to the high weeds like noisy black witches You also zee quantities of birds shaped like an English sparrow, with yellow breasts and mellow note, sin gle and repeated often. "What IS that ?' you ask. ''The reed bird. sah, replies your pusher 'sReed-birds ?" you gasp with as- tonishment, as visions of three little crea- lures on toast for forty cents flash through your mind. ''Why, there are millions of them" ''Very few kills them, sir" says your pusher. ''Sportsmen prefer railses, and pot-hunters cant get more'n quarter for a bunch on 'em; so they won't kill 'em." You let go barrel St two or three Of the little beggars that are chirping and swinging on the tall reeds, and on picking them up you find them as fat as butter. The report of your gun, however, is answered by sound that comes from all around you
 ''Wheep, wheepee, chuckle, cluckle, wheep, vince e-a." ''Them's railses, sir, says your pusher Hear lem talkin';" and with strong thrust of his crutch-shaped pole he forces the boat into the wild oats and butter weed Right from under the gunwale weak, attenIsted-looking thing flies up "There, sir l'' sings out the pusher. You look and the strange-looking creature drops into the weeds again. s'Why didn't you shoot, sir2 That's 8 rail-" is the puahers somewhat contemptuous remark. "Oh, ah! I didn't-why, wasn't-well, let's get him up again. He lit right wonder" You'll never get him up again." dryly remarks the pusher. s'He's twenty-five yards from the place where he lit by this time. There's plenty more, though. There! there Two more rail flap up awkwardly. You throw up your gun and miss them. Why? Because 7our gun shoots so close at ffteen or twenty yards that your aim must be almost as with rife. Standing in the bow of the boat, how ever, you brace your knee against the seat and try again.
 Pretty soon you bring down rail or two. You get your nerve back, and in little time, if you are fair partridge shot, you can kill eighteen ont of twenty with ease. You do not always find the birds you kill. especially if you make many doubles, although your pusher, with an instinct almost supernatural, can go to the spots where they fall A winged bird may run like a deer. About midway the tide gets so low that your tired pusher scrapes the sweat from his forehead with horny forefnger and tells you that if you want any reed birds you had better go and kill them, as the boat won't go through the butter weed any more. You float along down the edges of the marshes then, and the addi- lion of five or six reed birds to your bag is merely question of ammunition. Black birds are not to be dsspised either, and dog ems can be killed at 8 single shot. What is better, then, than to get under shady bank and tackle the sandwich and pie and listen to the yarns of your pusher? "I just whush, /" says he, "that some of these folks ou IJ Eir,a o&-,d'ins ovar hupS and' h.