Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1886-12-05

| sportsman
For a long time was at loss to know
from what source had come my passion
for guns and cunning. My father was
anything but a oonnoisseur OF deadly
weapons, and my mother never knew the
butt from the muEzle of gun, and was
| equally afraid of each. After care1ul
digging at the roots of the family tree, the
scientific basis for hereditary transmits
sion was indicated, for found that my
! grandmother was cousin of Kit Carson,
the great American hunter and trapper.
While was q child, il amused my broth
| ers to hear me discuss the merits OF choke
bore shot guns and breech loading rifles,
Int when rgrew to woman's estate this
highly unfeminine taste displeased and
even alarmed them. They were very
uroper Young men, and did not relish the
idea of a young lady sister who could
take snipe on the wing, or pierce the
bulIs-eye with revolver at sixty PAGES.
Dear BOYS. they feared, too, that such a
propensity might seriously endanger my
being settled in life. They demonstrated,
they scolded; they brought me the ac-
counts of all the dreadful accidents that
| resulted from the use of firearms, and
| tried to extort from me a promise that l
would never touch a gun again. might
have Yielded had not an unfortunate cir.
cunstance occurred that made me deal
to all entreatics.
Anuncle who had heard of my skill, ana
was queer and old fashioned enough TO al
mire it, sent me, on my eighteenth birth
day, handsome Winchester rifle, winch
he had ordered made for me. From that
day ceased TO struggle against fate.
Bryant's "I!ines to Water Fowl al
ways brought to my imagination other
| thoughts than those commonly suggested
| to feminine readers; and not only IN
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 veer-
ing to the south, with neck outstretched
and eve of faith; at another, il was a
stately mallard or jaunty teal, a spoonbill
or sprigtail. But l painted for nobler
game.
lonced for the excitement OF the chase;
to be where
The stag at eve had drunk his fill;
to see and be the belted hunter. When
should have been devising patterns for
sofa cushions and learning to paint on
silk and china my heart was away on the
boundless plains, chasing deer and ante
lone. AS Cadmon was haunted by
vision, in which he was told to sing; as
| Socrates was pushed by demon who in
sisted that he should make music-so, by
some strange law of psychology, felt
that nv life would never be complete
until had hunted the deer or tracked
the grizzly in his mountain home.
The opportunity came. Some friends
invited me to spend few weeks at their
home in the Sierras. They had little
house among the pines, in one OF the most
romantic regions Of tho range. a hunt-
ing party was formed for my especial en-
tertainment, and the night before, rs n
prelude to the morrow's excitement, we
listened around the fire to the wild stories
! of the mountaineerS.
"Old Clubfoot, n grizzly who had been
/ known in the region for fifteen or twenty
wears. was faeOrite topic. No one had
| had the hardihood TO attack him since he
had pursued hunter long distance and
| killed him with stroke OF his gigantic
paw. An enormous trap had once been
set for him, and he had caught his foot in
II. but, with wonderful intelligence, he
had gone to the nearest rock and beaten
| Il off He was seen occasionally in the
passing years, and now and then he
helped himself to n sheep or calf I'M
molested.
There was also white doc among the
neirhborinC mountains which seemed to
hear n charmed life, for many hunters had
shot at it, but always missed. A super
stition had naturally grown up about 1t,
and the mountainous held that some
great calamity would attend the person
who killed the white deer.
These stories aroused my imagination
SO that / could scarcely wait for the dawn
of day, and lay awake long after the
house was still, but was the first one stir
ring In the morning.
An old hunter, whom we called Uncle
John, was the leader of the party, and to
his care was assigned. He had always
wished to sec woman shoot, he said, and
I should have grand chance 10 show
what could do
Don't kill the white dcerH' some one
called after ms.
mo, no., | laughed back; "well take
| The greatest care"
We rode in silence till we reached the
crown of a little hill where there was an
omen grassy spot | was close beside
| Uncle John, when / saw him gaze flXedly
ahead for a moment. Then, without
turning his head, he said, in whisper:
"Get down quick! Here's your chance!
| As fine n shot rs ever | see"
was down before he had fairly begun
| 90 speak, but trembling all over, and my
| 4 -. OCT ~. ~ IN n
way.
'iSlip up behind the sugar pine and
blaze away" was the whispered order:
and, hugging my rifle, / obeyed, all the
time with that dreadful shaking. Ii was
"buck aguc," as | afterward learned, a
nervous affection experienced by young
hunters during their first shot ut deer,
and even old hunters have sufered from
| IL.
The beautiful creature, a 2-year-old
buck, stood quietly feeding, outlined
against the sky. leveled my rife, never
noticing that had not raised the ham
mer, and pulled with all my strength. IL
did not "go of" At last discovering
the reason, / rghted the hammer with a
click. The deer raised his lordly head,
snuffed the air, and was gone in q series
of magnificent leaps.
"How beautiful / cried, forgetting in
the novelty of the sight my own stupid
fly, Of which, however, was not long TO
remain unmindful. The look of contempt
that greeted me as / turned to Uncle
John withered me.
you'll never kill deerl Never see
such q chance since was born; not ten
wards of. Poohr' And the irate old
hunter rode off, leaving me 70 follow OF
90 back. as ! chose. hase been morti'
fed several times in my recollectioni
have been spelled down" as a child in
school; have missed the target in archery
tournaments, and have been snubbed by
a prospective mother-in-law; but never dc
/ remember that my pride was so lacerated
as now. The sunshine suddenly lost It's
brightness, the fresh, fragrant stiffness
was no longer a delight, and desperate
thoughts flashed through my brain oil
putting an end to my wretched existence.
At last determined that instead Of re-
turning home to brood over my sOrrow,