Reminiscences of a Sportsman

Reminiscences of a Sportsman By J. Parker Whitney Author of "The Silver Mines of Colorado"; The Reclamation and Cultivation of Tidal Overflowed Lands"; "Colonization"; "The Orange and its Cultivation in California," etc. Forest and Stream Publishing Co. New York 1906 Reminiscences Of A Sportsman 2 Joel Parker Whitney Reminiscences Of A Sportsman 3 Joel Parker Whitney Reminiscences Fishing has been my predominating pastime, to which I have given more time and attention than to any other. At eight years of age, my father then being a resident of New Orleans, I commenced the gratification of this taste along the route of the Pontchartrain canal running from the city by the shell road to the lake of the same name. I well remember now, after many years have elapsed, the exciting joy I felt when with my short rod and line I drew forth from amid the tree roots and rushes skirting the canal the small perch which I afterward fried in buttered tins by the kitchen fire. They tasted good, as well as the soft-shell crabs which I netted at the lake. And I remember how late on Saturday afternoon, after school, I prolonged my stay at the canal and lake until darkness came on and how frightened I became as I sped my way home at running speed, imagining the logs and roots by the canal to be bears or alligators, which abounded in the neighboring swamps. At ten years of age I accompanied my two elder brothers upon a bear-hunting excursion in Texas, where my action was a minor part, but which resulted in the capture of two. At twelve years of age I passed the summer near my birthplace in Massachusetts, where I spent the [2] most of my time in trout and pickerel fishing. The former was fairly good, and the latter particularly so over the many ponds in the vicinity, and I trudged many miles for constantly alluring prospects at more promising ponds at a distance, when my results were less than I could have accomplished nearer home. Thus ever is the sportsman beckoned on to distant fields by the ignis fatuus of expectation, and too often misled. I remember one day, although I fished for pickerel generally with a skittering bait of frog's legs, of setting a quantity of lines off the dam of a mill-pond in the deep water, baited with live minnows, and making a great catch. I employed a number of boys who caught bait and attended the lines, using quite a number of winter lines belonging to my uncle. I paid the boys in fish, but had so many, and more than could be eaten at home, that, with the boys, I lugged them two or three miles to a neighboring hotel and sold them for a small handful of silver, which I was not above making pocket-money of, and thought at the time I was making great headway in finance. This success inspired so much attention toward the pond that it soon became depleted of its precious holding. I noted in later years, when visiting the trout brooks I fished that summer with tolerable success, that these brooks had dwindled away in volume and life, owing to the denudation of the forests, a result which is now clearly evident with many New England brooks, and which is shown on a larger scale in many countries and particularly in Spain in the country about Madrid, where are seen large bridges of iron and stone constructed in the sixteenth century over then large [3] streams, which have now dwindled down to insignificant volume. At the time of founding Madrid in the early part of the sixteenth century, which was centrally located in Spain, it was surrounded by forests of magnitude, all of which have disappeared from view. They were rain breeders and moisture holders, and with their loss the country became deprived of water supply and dependent upon irrigation. I was strongly reminded while there, and viewing the desolate appearance of the environs of the city, of those about the comparatively treeless region of the city of Santa Fé in New Mexico, where one looks out upon a desert country, but scantily relieved by habitation. I have noted in New Mexico the effect of forest denudation, as it is well known that at the time of the Francisco Vasquez de Coronado Spanish invasion in the early part of the sixteenth century, diverted from the Hernando Cartes, that considerable parts of New Mexico were forest- grown, now barren, which supported a much larger native population than found at the time of the acquisition of that territory by the United States in 1848. Frequent forest fires were the occasion which, even before the Coronado advance in search of the golden cities of Mexican tradition, had made prominent ravages, and diminished a population which had so far as indications show, been the most dense at one time in Northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado that existed upon the North American continent. I have witnessed on the Estancia plains, and at Algodones and other localities in New Mexico and [4] Southern Colorado, and especially about Algodones, comparatively unsettled now, the plentiful remnants of pottery, which can be dug up at about every shovelful, ancient watercourses, and adobe walls extending over many square miles, which have withstood the Reminiscences Of A Sportsman 4 Joel Parker Whitney exposure of centuries. Ruins of stone watch-towers, and walls of immense community houses which were occupied by hundreds of the early Toltecs, remain as monuments of a departed race. The question of forest preservation is becoming one of increasing importance, not only for game life but for commercial purposes, and the consumption at present by fires, and the demands for lumber, and especially wood pulp, and for domestic uses, is reaching alarming proportions; and in view of a rapidly increasing population on the North American continent, which in another century will be four or five times greater than now, one may readily see that the question of wood supply and its preservation and cultivation will be one of vital interest. At fourteen and fifteen years of age -- in 1849-50 -- I had plentiful experience in Illinois over its plains and in the wooded region along the Mississippi River. The State was then young, containing about one twentieth of its present population. Game was plentiful: bear, deer, raccoons, opossum, wild turkeys, water-fowl, prairie chickens, and quail. Squirrels were common about the hickory groves -- gray, fox, and some black -- and many of the gray and fox fell before my gun. I was very fond of this shooting, and I have never seen such quantities of squirrels else where as were in evidence at that time. The fox squirrels here moved about the corn bins and fields, [5] while the gray I found more plentiful about the trees. These were more cunning in escaping observation, and had a habit of rapidly disappearing around the opposite side of the trees, where they were securely hidden from view, excepting a small portion of their heads, projecting for observation. As I would proceed around the tree I would be baffled by the alert squirrels, which would slip around in sequence with my movements. It has been a mooted question if, in circling a tree in this manner, one who made the circuit with a squirrel upon the opposite side of the tree would actually go around the squirrel while going around the tree. This question I will leave open. I soon overcame this difficulty by throwing a convenient stone or stick of wood as far as I could to the opposite side of the tree, which landing with some noise would almost invariably throw the squirrel momentarily off guard, when he would flash quickly to my side of the tree to investigate the probably new source of danger. The stay would scarcely be more than half a second, but sufficient in my preparedness to accomplish the end. One day I bagged four grays out of five from a single hickory tree, which set the color vividly in mend. This was equalled on a moonlight foray we made with dogs for 'coons. One evening we secured a family of four from a single tree where they had taken refuge. This hunting at night on horseback with dogs was a pastime much in vogue in my locality, and an occasional wildcat was taken in. I had an adventure with a 'coon one day which was not very pleasant. It was after a light [6] fall of snow when I sallied out with axe and gun with two old, almost toothless dogs, the only ones about, and after tracking a 'coon to a hollow tree I proceeded to cut it down. No 'coon appeared, but while inspecting the upper part of the decayed tree a large one in its fright leaped out directly upon me. Down I fell in confusion, and upon me the 'coon and my two old dogs. To save myself I struggled hard, but the more I struggled the more I seemed to be the centre of attack, and it was an occasion of pleasant surprise when I succeeded in removing myself from the conflict, when the dogs had disabled the 'coon, to find I had received no bites, although sadly scratched, and with my clothing badly torn. Wild turkeys abounded in the neighboring forest, and their gobblings could often be heard at a distance in the early morn. Small-brained and stupid as they are in many respects, they are nevertheless very quick and alert to take alarm, and when disturbed depend more upon their running than on flying.

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