Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1898-04-13
WITH THE SPORTSMAN.
DIR. PHILLIPS PAINTS VIVID PEN
PICTURES OF THE CHASE.
THOUGHTS SUGGESTED BY A VISIT TO
THE sPoRTsMEN's EXHIBITION IN
BOSToN-MAINE NOT FIT
TINGLY REPRE-
SENTED.
Written for THE AMERICAN by DR.. George
a. Phillips, of Ellsworth


Two things l am sorry for: first that
promised The AMERICAN to say a word
or two about the splendid exhibit held
last month in Boston; second, that
could spare so little time from a busy
week to be there. An hour Tuesday
evening mostly thrown away because OF
the enormous crowd that sent me home
early; little longer, including the noon
hour, o: the following day, was all could
be there.
But ] made the most of that, for | had
with me two companions, one OF whom
we all know, Mr.. Greedy, the other Mr..
Braiuard, whom we all ought to know
the former lacking but one thing to make
him the best companion on earth, the
sportsman's instinct; the latter rounding
out his companionship by full quota of
this spirit. II WAS CHspir Whitney who
said that if Il were woman, before
marrying / should want to know what
Kind OF a sportsman my future husband
had proved himself to be".
| know am away from the show, ex-
cept indirectly, but is it not true that in
hunting OF large game in camp and canoe,
after weary days OF toll when, wet, tired
hungrI, it comes to the division OF work
every 1udy cold to the marrow, no sue
cess after a week OF all this, what better
test OF whole heartedness and sacrifice
and manliness comes to any of us? One
fellow goes at it on the landing, laughs
and chops and scratches damp matches
until he gets light, gathers brush and
wood, brings water from the brook,
drives the tent pins, pulls the luggage
into place, etc, etc. with laugh, jest,
sound good nature. But oh, the other
fe'to"! Who has not seen him?
This is not all [ know three friends,
one OF whom had not seen many days of
camp life, who had been following a
moose for several days. Constant care
had been necessary. Finally he had been
eorraled. 1t had become almost Ger
tainty that a canoe trip round an island
would give shot. 1t required great eau
ton; the nete man had to be "c4lted
down" and siiencai many tines it was
to be the cIimtx of l1ny dretry weeks
hunt.
But there he is, The canoe shoots by a
point OF wood aud opens out II knoll
twenty yards from the stream; at its apex.
standing quartering with head no. is the
long -looked-tor prize. The widespread
ing antlers, the huge form, the gray
name signifying his Old age. Oars at
last! The old hunter of the party, willing
to give he new friend a chance, raises
rifle and walts-* hispers TO 20 ahead. In
another instant 1t is too late. A bound,
cry, shooting into the air, a pande-
monium, but no moose.
And yet that neto man still lives. He
was neither shot nor drowned: he
was treated with the utmost Kindness.
The only intimation that could possibly
be regarded as other han love and good
will WAS shown in he fact that the trip
suddenly ended, the party came out, and
| am sure he does not yet understand why
his suggestions to form one OF the same
hunting party each year since has resulted
failure. Could there be a better posi-
BILE exemplitication of gentleman than
this control?
There is only one class OF men who can
appreciate what this means; the wonder
ful restraint that saved this mans life
and caused him to be used with the ut
most courtesy. The man for instance
who has found big game, or rather the
signs Of it, after perhaps days of hard
work, though days OF deep pleasure, but
at last the right track is found, then come
hours, even days, OF weary work-the
aiming OF hoof-print to determine how
recent it all is, the signs OF near approach,
the cautious tread, the watching OF wind,
for present approach must be abandoned
il its telltale breath is wrong; and after
all this has been multiplied many times
because OF given alarm. But at last! far
away perhaps, in plain view, is the
hunted game.
Then comes in a dozen ways the test of
skill-shall we try to get nearer shot?
Are the risks too great? No. we must
trust to the best that is in us now, and
with every nerve culver the distance is
judged, the sights are adjusted. the rifle
thrown into position, and, for moment,
every tumutuous impulse is held, every
throbbng nerve is still, as he sight bear
on the great fellow quarter OF a mile
away. Then comes an instant OF release,
when you feel that, come what will, you
have done your best, but it is for an in
slant only, then up and at him again.
And when you have climbed over boul-
ders and round the head OF the pond, and
finally found your quarry dead-well, no
one but a real sportsman can appreciate
just how you feel, and he does not need to
be told the disappointment OF the lost
shot spoken Of above, nor what 1t means
TO be good to the fellow who spoiled it.
Nor could such a man fail to appreciate
and enjoy this most wonderful exhibit at
the Mechanics building in Boston last