Morris tribune., 1886-11-24
Twas Born with the instincts of the

true sportsman.
For a long time l was at a loss tt
know from what source had come my
passion for guns and cunning My
1ather was anything but a aconnoisseul
of deadly weapons, and my mother
never knew the butt from the muzzle
OF gun, and was stually afraid o.
each, After carefully digging at the
Hcots of the family tree, the scientific
basis for hereditary transmission was
Vlndicated, for l found that my grand;
mother was a cousin of Kit Carson,
! the great Anne, ican hunter and trap:
per,
While was child, it amused my
brothers to hear me discuss the nler.
ltsofchokes bore shot-guns and breach
ieedihg rifles, but when Igrew to wom-
ans estate this highly unfeminine
taste displeased and even alarmed
them. They were very proper young
men, and did not relish the idea of a
! young lady sister who could take q
snipe on the wing, or pierce the bulls
eye with a revolver at sixty PAGES.
Dear boys, they feared, too, that sucn
a propensity might seriously endan-
germy being settled in life
They demonstrated, they scolded;
they brought me the accounts OF all the
dreadful accidents that resulted from
the use Of firearms, and tried to ex-
tort from me promise that would
never touch a gun again. might have
yielded had not an unfortunate cir
cumstance occurred that made me
deaf to all entreaties
An uncle who had heard OF my skill,
aud was queer and old-fashioned
enough to admire 1t, sent me on my
eighteenth birthday, a handsome
Winchester rifle, which he had order
ed made for me. From that day
ceased to struggle against fate.
Bryant's Lines to a Water. Fowl
always brought to my imagination
other tho"ghts than those commonly
suggested to feminine readers; andnot
onlyin thought. but in rubber boots
and with game bag, have hunted
that classic bird on lake shore and
river bottom. At one time it was a
canvas back, slowly veering to the
south, with neck Uutstretched and eye
OF faith; at another it was a stately
mallard or jaunty teal, q spoon-bill
or spri9-tail.A But | painted for no.
bier game.
l longel for the excitement of the
chase; to be where
The stag at eve had drunk his fillj''
to see and be the belted hunter.
When l should have been devising pat
terms for sOfa-cushions. and learning |
to paint on silk and china, my heart |
was away on the boundless plains,
chasing deer and antelope AS Caed-
mon was haunted by vision, in
which he was told to sing; as Socra-
tes was pursued by damon, who in
sisted that he should make music-so
by some strange law of psychology, l
felt that my life would never be COM
plete until had hunted the deer or
tracked the grizzly in his mountain
home.
The opportunity came. Some
friends invited ME to spend q few
weeks at their home in the Sierra.
They had little house among the
pines, in one of the most romatic re-
gions of the range.
A hunting-party was formed for my
entertainment, and the night
before, as prelude to the morrow's
excitement, we listened around the
fire to the wild stories of the mount
aineers. "Old Clubfoot," q grizzly
who had been known in the region for
i1tteen or twenty years, was q favorite
topic. No one had had the hardi-
hood to attack him since he had pur-
sued a hunter long distance and
killed him with g. stroke of his gigantic
paw. An enormous trap had once
been set for him, and he had caught
his foot in it, but, with wonderful in
5elligence he had gone to the nearest
'ock and beaten it off He was seen
occasi onally in the passing years, and
low and then he helped himself to a
sheep or calf unmolested.
There was also white doe among
he nelghbOrlng mountains which SEEM
ID to bear a charmed life, for many
hunters had shot at it, but always miss
d. A superstition had naturally
,rown up about it, and the mount
tlneers held that some great caiam-
ty would attend the person who kill
d the white deer.
These stories aroused my Imagina- /
ion so that ] could scarcely wait for
he dawn of day, and lay awake long
Utter the house was still, but was the ,
irst one stirring in the morning
An old hunter, whom we called Uncle
'ohn, was the leader of the party, and /
o his care | was assigned. He had s
,lways wished to see a woman shoot, i
e said, and should have g. grand i
hance to show what could do.
Don't kill the white deer" some f
ne called after us. !
"No, no." l laughed back; "we'l {
AXE the greatest care" I
We rode in silence till we reached l
he crown OF q little hill where there {
'as an open, grassy spot. was close g
eside Uncle John, when l saw him 8
aze fixedly ahead for a moment.
hen, without turning his head, he c
aid, in whisper: /
"Get down quick! Here's your t
nancel As fine shot as ever I see." t
l was down before he had fairly be- n
In to speak, but trembling all over, v
nd my teeth chartered in most un- il
ccountable way.
"Slip up behind that sugar pine and t
laze away" was the whispered order; a
nd, hugging my rifle, I obeyed, all the O
me with that dreadful shaking. 1t O
as chuck ague," as l afterward t
armed, nervous affection expert. n
need by young hunters during their O
rst shot at deer. and even old hunt. v
g have suffered from it. n
The beautiful creature, a two-year q
Id buck, stood quietly feeding, out n