The San Francisco call., 1907-06-09

Them's the things that sllus run
Trouble OF the smilin earth.
Outdoor lifei Then earth an heaven
Seem as close as SIX an seven.
m gOW IS the time as summer draws
M near that lovers of the shotgun
M grow reminiscent and begin 10
tell tales of trips into the coun-
try in search of mountain and valley
quail. doves. wild pigeons, ducks and
grouse: while the riheaen. who make
big game thcir. speciality, commence to
swap stories about the graceful deer,
the shaggy bear. the treacberous pan
fher. or any other wild animal that has
4 come within. range OF their guns. The
fishing season is on. and the hunters,
while thinking wistfully OF their turn,
listen 10 the devotees Of the gentle
rzaak walton spin yarns Of deluding
the cannv speckled trout with the Inn
age or a rat fly. or tickling the gor-
nand fa4cles Of tic salmon by an odor-
sterous tfdbt of spoiled sardine The
1narksuen offer ass Itlefr share of the
CONVERSATION discussions on hunting
arms. different powders, primers and
bullets. and questions as to sights. am
nunition. trigger pun. etc, arise and
are debated with an air Of response
bility that would 90 justice TO a judge
on the bench.
Alexander vogelsang, ex-fish com.
missioner. is more follower of the
rod than the gun, ingenious lures for
outwitting wary fsh appealing more %
him than the killing of game. He was
asked to tell again the story of the
catching Of Big Mike at Big Meadows.
the trout that leaped into local fame
on the end OF Mr.. vogelsang,s line,
but he ignored the suggestion and re-
lated instead how he killed his first
and only deer.
1T was on the Nendocino coast" he
began. -four of us went into tho
hills and camped over night where wa
were told that deer were numerous.
John c. Lane was the leader in our
little party, for. he was a surveyor and
civil engineer and knew the country
well, besides being an expert shot and
sportsman. In the morning as we be-
gan to work our way toward Mslpas
and Alder. creeks, Lane said. twe'rc
pretty sure to get shot at the Malp4s
buck today We asked him what that
meant, and then he explained that the
two creeks were about two miles apart,
and that the land between was a steep
bluff, the top OF which was a grain
field sloping abruptly to the ocean. an
enormous buck had lived there for
years and was known IN consequence
as the Malpas buck Every one in the
neighborslood and hunters from afar.
had shot at him, bat no one had been
able to hit. him. We decided to try our
luck As We went along we saw some
sealions out in the ocean and, to try
the range OF our guns. we fired at them.
We finally drew near TO Nalpas, and
had about given UP all hopes Of seeing
deer that day, when some one shouted.
Here comes the buck nowr We all
stood stin and looked. He came run
ming along the top of the bluff until
he reached little point that jutted
out from the slope where he stood and
waited. 1 could just see the tip of his
horn. but he was not over 100 feet
away from Lane, who had a. good, view
Of him Lane raised his gun, took
careful aim and drew the e-trigger. The
shell refused to explode. without even
gtopping for remarks. that might have
been excusable under the cireuJn>
stances, Lane went through the motion,
OF putting IN cartridges. raised his gun
again, took careful aim, and again the
shell failed TO explode. Lane then de-
livered himself Of a long string OF
sulphurous adjectives, ending up with
the remark. The gun isn't loadedr
He'd forgotten that he'd used up his
ammunition firing at the sealions. BY
this time the buck started to run again
and came into view OF the rest of us.
Lane loaded his gun, the rest of us
Gid the same. and every one fired ut
the fleeing animal We sprinkled him
with gravel and scattered dust over
him, but that's all the harm that hap
pened to him. He ran up into Malpas
canyon and today hunters in that To-
caIity are still trying to kill the Afalpas
buck that seems more likely to die from
old age than bullets. But on the way
back killed my first and last deer
for. unless need the meat. I'll never
KIN another"
He Would Not Shoot
Bernard Faymonville, member of
the Country club, decided one day
that he would give the quail and ducks
a little longer Tease on life. while he
went IN quest OF q deer. AS he had
never killed one. some of his fellow
members determined that he should
have the experience, and with that end
in view party of six OF them started
out one warm summers day from the
Country club with a guide and a pack
of hounds. Mr.. Faymonville was given
the most favorable station at the
shoulder OF hill. and there he and the
guide waited. In about an hour they
heard the dogs mile or two away. and