The Alaska citizen., 1912-10-21
THE HUNTERS?
 ARE COMING

They will soon he here. those brave hunters. once more will the people of this town he able 10 look them in the eve. but after their yer ncity killing experiences it is a question as to whether or not they an 60 the same.
 Hut listen to the way they passed pdt and up and in
 NINE LITTLE HUNTERS. Nine little hunters went to Birch
 lake.
 One would not work. and then there
 were eight.
 Eight little hunlors got up at eleven One got his face full. and thef there
 were seven
 Seven little h1ntcrs. all full of
 tricks.
 Someone touched the wires. and
 then there were six. Six little hunter9. very much alive, One bought moose head. and then
 there were five. Five little hunters feeling v"ry sore. One got angry that there were but
 fbHr.
 Four little Audtyrs urterncath a
 tree.
 o~o saw a bear track, and then
 there were three. Three little hunters thinking of a
 stew.
 One tucked his nut home. and then
 there were two. Two little hunters thinking up some
 fun.
 Took a shot at --- pipe. and then
 there was one One little hunter, now don't forget Was the correspondent of the bunch
 and that one was Pat.
 They all had their work cut out for them. and althou%h most of them cut out work. still they all did someone or something.
 John Enlund was the master Of ceremonies.
 Pat o'connor was the Correspon, lent.
 George Kennedy was the French ,hcf
 Joe poz gathered the wood.
 Norman heon was the disher.
 Tom Gilis was the waiter.
 George Hamilton was the bunny hunter.
 Earl Wakefield was the house man.
 Jess Myers vas the Look Out
 George 1ayior was the straw boss
 And what time they did have they are all good union men, and not q single man worked over ri-ht minutes a day. If they did hey demanded overtime. and over lime rieant an extra snoo2e in the morning. They were all expert shots Not one cf them was ever seen half shot. They all got sood-sized leads, and all of the heads acted as f they were almost human heads.
 But start the band. boys. and let ioy reign supreme. They have no cold storage game at Birch lake. and so even il they do bring some meat couldn't have lasted through the summer. If it had il would at once )e apparent Remember, the nose butts in where the eye fears to venture
 Mid the soft strain of Home Sweet Home" they will come down Front street. The drums were muf fled as the sad procession wends it's way slowly to the last resting place of it's guilty consciences. The mighty caravan of death approach .Cs. Death is stamped all over it. tDl lttstllui. il'GilH iui hiiiSo t' o'h- -N' glow of life. no bright and cheerful ray of sunshine will ever redeem he awful murder that this noble band of game hunters heaped upon upon the defenseess head of Verac- ity. As they round the corner into Cushman street. King End'und is heard to cry. "A moose. moose, my kingdom for moose. But Enlund's reign was over and he had TO kingdom, neither had he a uueendom. He had naught but a jackGom, and that was dom bad.
 And as they turn into Front street. that silver voiced tenor, Tom Gillis will start to sing touching little ditty composed for the occa- sion by those world famous com posers, Bill koOn and Joe O'Connor. entitled On the Shoes of Birch Lake, Where We Shot Our Reputa tions.' The chorus goes some thing like this: "On the shores Of dear Birch lake. They perished for our sake, Our spotless regulations, they were slain;
 But the moose and bear and sheep, They just kidded us to sleep, Now our spirits to that dear spot