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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (Nov. 10, 1907)
THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAN. PORTLAND. XOVE3IBER 10, 1907.
Tells a Thrilling
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j7S. SfS G-CSJZE AND
, ENTER, Colo.. Nov. 3. (Special
correspondence of The Sunday Ore
fronlRn.) J. A. McGuire. editor of
Outdoor IJfe. of thin city, has just re
turned from a successful big game hunt
in Wyoming, where he secured in the
mountains, 90 miles south of Cody, a
Rocky Mountain sheep, Hn elk, an ante
lope and a grizzly bear. The bear and
the elk were unusually large specimens,
the bear weighing about 600 pounds and
the hide measuring 7H feet square. Those
who kill this rare animal at this day
outside of a trap may count themselves
exceedingly lucky, for there is probably
no game animal on the North Ameiican
Continent whose killing Is more, highly
prized by sportsmen than the grizzly
bear (ursus horribills). It not only re
quires bard work to successfully hunt the
erizzly, but nerve to kill them, for un
less killed outright by the first shot (a
very rare occurrence) they will In most
cases charge furiously upon their pur
suer. Mr. McGuire had the experience
of a wounded grizzly charge upon him
after he had been probably mortally
wounded, and with three bullet wounds
In him, and yesjerday told the story of
the killing as follows:
'I was hunting in ' the forest reserve
of the National Park, 90 miles south of
Cody, Wyo., with two friends, who ac
companied me on the trip, beginning Oc
tober 1 and ending October 13 Messrs.
Ned Frost and Fred FUchard, of Cody.
I had already secured a nice Rocky
Mountain sheep and a six-pound elk,
and was out looking for bear signs on
which to run the dogs. It had snowed
about three Inches the night before, af
fording elegant tracking, and we were
feeling mighty sure of a lion, wolverine
or cat chase, at least, if we couldn't find
fresh bear tracks. An elk carcass lay
In some heavy timber a couple of miles
from our camp (killed by a hunter who
had only removed from It the head, sad
dle and teeth), andt every time our
rounds brought us anywhere near this
place we would drift over to the re
mains to look for signs of bear. On the
morning of the kill we strayed over to
this elk carcass, but It hadall been
eaten up slick and clean and from the
place there led fresh grizzly bear tracks.
The rear footprint In the snow in places
where there was no chance of it slipping
measured 6x9 inches. We followed it for
a mile or so, when it became so warm
that we were In Immediate danger of
"iiimplng" the animal. Here we decided
to turn the dogs loose, as they were
very eager to go. They went off with a
bound In full cry', as only dogs can go,
when the bear they are chasing hag only
15 or 20 minutes' start of them. Their
music as It rang out through the deep
forest aisles soundd good to all of us,
and, mounting our horses we were soon
hot in pursuit as hot as the rough and
broken nature of the country would per
mit, for, be it .known, bears do not pick
out parks for their nomes. neither do
they go gallivanting down a paved boule-J
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vard when pursued by an eager and ex
cited pack of trained beAr dogs. This
particular grizzly seemed to have an
especial penchant for down timber, sid
ling hils and rock-infested forest, judg
ing by the number of down trees that
blocked our path and the rocky precipices
over which we had to risk our lives on
"Finally it was decided that Frost
should follow up the creek bottom and.
If possible, turn the animal before he
should get Into the rocky crags at the
head of the divide, for once in there
escape from the dogs and from us
would bo almost certain. I rode like
a niadman down the timbered slope to
the creek, crossed it and stationed my
self at a point of vantage on the oppo
site side of the canyon, over a clay
bank, from -which I commanded 200
to 300 yards of open country, should
the bear return and travel through it.
Richard followed the trail, so as to
command a shot should the bear back
track. Boon after reaching my position on
the clay bank, I heard the good sound
of the dogs far up the country. Judg
ing by the noise, I should say they
were about two miles away. We had
been running the bear already nearly
an hour, and It looked as If we should
be on the chase at least an hour more.
Finally the dog music became more
distinct; 1 could locate it on my side
of the creek, and as I watched and
listened I could plainly tell that they
were, driving the bear down my way.
Frost probably having succeeded in
turning him back. The baying of: the
dogs rew louder and louder, and my
pulse beat faster and faster. I could
tell they were not more than a quarter
of a mile away. Finally the noise broke
up slightly. I could tell It was grow
ing indistinct; then in a sudden burst
It started up on the opposite side of
the creek, and I saw the outlines of the
bear ns he appeared traveling through
the timber 300 yards away. I fired two
shots, one of which cut through one
of his rear feet, shattering every bone.
Believing that my only chance was to
her.d him oft, I wanted Old Spike, my
faithful horse (without whose assist
ance I should certainly fail) dashed
across the stream, up the hill, across
the trail of the bear and dogs every
one of which was faithfully pursuing
the animal In full cry and up the
hill. Down timber here blocked my
progress, and I retreated to a lower
level, recrossing the trail, and noticing
for the first time the blood stains from
the injured foot. I may here state
that every footprint of the Injured
member was plainly disoernlble, some
thing which shows the exceeding nerve
of these animals to be able so to use
a fool every bone of which was broken.
"I rode as fiercely as possible to head
the bear off for I had decided that
either the norse, the bear or I should
die In that scrimmage; and as the chances
now were about to to in favor of the
bear doing that identical act. I was doing
no worrying as far as danger to me was
concerned. I crossed a deep, rock-banked
and rock-bedded ravine, falling mv horse
in the center of tha stream on a, down
- - "
a.j- jc. :
tree. He was up in a second, however,
and on we dashed. I saw by this time
that I was about opposite the bear and
that he seemed to be traveling my way.
The 'kl-yl-ing' of one of the terriers from
a probable encounter with Old Eph told
me where they were. I Jumped off my
horse and pulled my 30-30 from the scab
bard just in time to see the bear, pur
sued by the whole pack of dogs (all
working beautifully) cross the stream
over which I had Just floundered. I took
aim as he appeared between the pines
and brush and fired. He winced, but
continued up the bank. I fired again at
his obscure figure as seen through the
thick brush; with no noticeable result,
and again as he disappeared through the
havy timber all this shooting being done
at from 100 to 150 yards. With a dash I
was on my horse and again after him.
It was war to the death now, sure, for
after this long chase I would follow him
THE train pulls out of the station
at Long Island City and you bury
, yourself in your paper with the
usual sociable spirit of a Man
hatanite with a thought of time only
to be endured until back again in the
heart of things.
"My dear, how is thu tooth? Did he
hurt you much? Well, isn't he a good
dentist! And you came in on the 9:10?"
The voice trails into the seat behind
you, deeply concerned and full of sym
pathy. Away down in your heart a re
sponsive chord, or something, gives a
"Yes" it's another voice across the
way "do you know, we have been trying
to come over to see your folks, but mother
jias been so busy taking in her flowers
and getting ready for the Fall cleaning;
maybe we'll come- over tomorrow night,
though, if it doesn't rain."
"I just thought you'd be on this train."
Another voice from an opposite seat ex
presses deepest joy. "Now, I can thank
you for sending me your dressmaker. My
goodness, you haven't been over for at
least a week!"
This in New York City, where you may
live and die and your neighbor next door
wouldn't know it? What, are there peo
ple in this busy town who have time to
know when you have a toothache; to talk
about the flowers and to wonder why you
haven't been over; and to feel sorry?
You feel as if you were In a strange
country and the little fussy train goes
merrily on its way. Queens. Hollis, Rich
mond Hill, all the stations fly rapidly by.
It grows lighter and lighter and brighter
and brighter, the green fields sweep right
up Into the train. The whole effect of
light is so dazzling that it .blinds your
eyes. Then as the train runs right
through great masses of color the train
man calls Floral Park and lets you out.
Instead of signs telling you to us
"'Somebody's Unlment" huge beds of
scarlet salvia nod a welcome to you.
They re not a part of anybody's door
yard or flower boxes, but are Just In the
Picture Village With Hardily a Speck of Dust
'III V -1 (hrcy , J -1 ui:
- - - . .,.
forever before giving him up. I saw
by the blood on his trail that I .had
wounded him again, which added fresh
ambition to my already enlivened feelings.
I followed him for perhaps a mile more
before 1 finally caught up with him. The
dogs were baying at him in a heavy
thicket of. small lodgepole pine, willows
and other brushy entanglements, and I
had to get quite close in order to get a
shot. I Jumped off my horse at a dis
tance from the bear of perhaps 75 yards
and crawled up afoot 10 or 15 yards more.
Through -the timber I caught a glimpse
of him as he was ascending a little rise,
going diagonally away from me, I grasped
the opportunity and fired quick as light
ning. The bullet hit him in the shoul
der there was a swale between us and
Immediately he reared up In the air, ut
tered a fierce roar and sent all four feet
seemingly In every direction, scratching,
snatching at and trying to demolish earth
fields all about, and you step right
The train goes on and leases you in this
picture village. After the flagman at the
station directs you to the village express
man standing near there are no -other
signs of life anywhere. Thirty minutes
from Broadway in its busiest throbbing
The brilliant sunshine floods everything.
There is a stillness that Is deathlike. As
you walk you are conscious of the sound
of your feet. You seem part of a stage
setting, and you feel as if you ought to
be Daffy-down-Dilly walking the streets
in a green petticoat and a red gown, in
stead of a mere human in the common
place garb of a Manhattanlte and with a
mission from that noisy, frenzied, far
The flagman whittles and talks to the
expressman,, who. he says, knows every
thing, and they direct you turnpike way,
where all things seem to start. The
flagman must carefully gather up all his
day's whittllngs, for no signs are there
of scraps anywhere to mar this clean
Your mind Is to your mission again, and
you walk into the stage setting, toward
the village turnpike. Its chief line of corn-
position. Ringing at several -doors to in-
quire your way, there Is no response.
Most of the door bells do not work. It
Is supposed the villagers must walk in.
There are no fences. You feel that it
is sacrilege almost to try to enter. Final
ly a lazy looking laundry wagon ambles
along and cheers your despairing soul.
You are directed to the street leading
toward the village church, and "Oh, yes,
everybody knows where Mrs. Allen, and
Mrs. Downing, and Mrs. Casparlon live.
And you want to know about the club?
They'll tell you all about It."
Your Informant beams In genial under
standing, and again you walk forth stage
settlngward. 'But. Mrs. Casparlon, do you mean to
say nine women have made this town
what it Is? How did you ever do It?
Why, I didn't see a speck of dust nor a
scrap of anything between here and tha
i . . ,.
and air as speedily and as effectually as
possible. When he lit the dirt and snow
flew as If a patent dirt excavator and a
snow plow were both at work on it at
the same time. Then he realized the di
rection from which the shot had come,
looked my way and came straight for me.
I lowered one knee to the 'ground, took
careful aim $nd fired. The bullet (as
we learned in skinning) struck him In
the shoulder and lodged under the skin
just -above his tall. I worked the lever
and put the sight to my eye for an
station. Did you start with any rules
for your Spotless Town?"
"Well, you see, mostly we just talked to
the children in school about throwing pa
pers on the streets and then the men
about the Postoffice and they soon got to
know, and our club -"
"What, -you a club woman?"
"Oh, yes; we've been federated six
It sounded quite final.
She smiled an expansive, motherly
smile, folding her capable hands over an
ample apron that suggested home in
every fold. Through the sliding doors
you could see the table standing set for
dinner; you knew she did It herself. Her
cheery personality suggested happiness
and charity toward all. A'ltli a thought of
home-made baking powder biscuits and
supper always on .time. She a club
"You meet and discuss things?"
"Yes. Our Winter work begins In Oc
tober. We meet at the homes once a
month. We consider topics of historical
and literary Interset. Then we often
bring lecturers or musicians out from
the city to benefit the club funds. Two
musicals paid for our garbage cans-
r "Ah. the civic side. You endeavor to
"It has always been the strongest fea
ture of our club. Nine women are on the
civic committee, so they have done most
of the work.
"There are 30s members in our ' club,
which Is nine years old. Kach member
takes the club programme for a month.
"We have covered a year's travel in
different countries Japan, India, Turkey.
Excuse me a moment."
She arose with a cheery sniff kitchen
ward. "It's my peach marmalade I'm mak
ing" Again that throb is felt within you. - A
long time ago, in another existence, you
U-too must have lived where there were
front porches and sitting-rooms and
fruity smells; who was It said "Remem
brance is a series of odors?"
Picture her moving and seconding
other shot. If necessary, but could see no
bear. When I got to him he was strug
gling his last about 25 feet below the
point at which I last fired at him.
"Richard was there before he expired
and fired two shots Into his body, 'just.'
as he said, 'to get eve for the way he
gave me the slip.' Ned soon came up
and we had a jollification meeting that
majle the woods ring.
" I would not take triOO and allow you
to kill that bear,' was Frost's first ejacu
lation. 'It was only a question of who
things! She smoothes her motherly apron
"You were in Japan and Turkey?"
"Was I?" Mrs. Casparlon's bright
eyes dance with a responsive sense of
humor. "But mostly, you see, our work
has been just at home. We discuss in
our club every need of making the home
attractive. AVe believe in using our
charity at home."
"And the flower idea?"
"Oh. you noticed that? Well, you see
the greenhouses and the seedhouses are
here, and Mrs. Chllds, who has been an
Inspiration In our club, gives us the
"Our village streets were so dark.
There- were only nine of us going to the
meetings last Winter when we decided to
have street lamps. We gave entertain
ments,, made a house to house canvas3
and now every street is lighted.
"We have waste paper boxes on every
avenue and a man hired to empty our
garbage cans every day, which costs
each property-owner 10 cents a week.
"Of course we keep In touch with other
dubs. Our members attend Sorosls when
Mrs. Casparlon hastened to a more con
ventional club topic in a manner that was
apologetic. One could see. though, that
her practical soul yearned toward the
waste paper boxes and the lamps.
"Affairs of state are nothing to it," re
marked the visitor.
Mrs. Casparion looked a little at a loss.
. "To the streets, the garbage cans, the
flowers, the home! Isn't that the real
thing?" explained the visitor.
"Ah!" the floral club's motherly secre
tary followed quickly enough now. "Yes,
Indeed, we do love our homes."
A modern old-fashioned club woman!
It's strongly mythical like this bright
little stage setting village.
You walk the streets of Spotless Town
back through the same path of crisp air
and dazzling light. There are other signs
of life now. Cheery troops of school chil
dren flock into the spick and span post
office to mall their post cards. Going to a
near waste paper box, they drop their
discarded papers in most unpremedi
tatedly. Two little girls with bright scar
let coats and mops of yellow curls run
down to the station and monopolize Bill
"Bill, you are to ride us -now, Bill,
Just over the tracks and back."
had the best horse, said Richard, in com
menting on my ability to keep up with
the chase as well as I did. ,
"But I want to say right here," said
Mr. McGuire, with almost severe earnest
ness, "that this little 30-30 gun of mine
(which has already killed lion, mountain
sheep, antelope, deer, elk and several
bears) goes on the shelf, and goes there
to stay. It will never again face a bear.
I want a heavier gun and will now pen
sion the little, faithful one before it has
a chance to build a bad record."
Spotless Town seems good for children;
such ruddy, healthy, pretty youngsters
you never saw. Bill cannot resist them;
he piles them in his wagon and lets them
drive. Away they go, a merry, laughing
freight, leaving you sitting on the sta
tion's immaculate steps In the unbroken
The flagman still whittles, until he an
nounces the approach of your klneto
scope train right through the fields, and
you step out of the picture village into
the land of noise again.
Only some day you are going back to
see the husbands of Spotless Town.- Do
they mind? Are their days of a too
strenuous picking up and of not knowing
where to drop their cigar ashes? Rather
must they be days of peace. For after
a day in the strife and noise of New
York, when they hie themselves toward
Spotless Town, all care must be left be
hind. Into the quiet of that picture vil
lage only peace may enter. And with all
furrows smoothed away, who minds If
you drop a match on the public highway
and some pretty towselled head child or
the village expressman -should say:
"There, kind sir. there Is the way to
the trash box." New York Sun.
Apparently to some It doth appear
Tj overwork a phonograph Is lawful.
But. Just the same, to us who have to hear
The lady who's above us Is quite lure
Her singing Is the sweetest in the Nation.
But to us who are In earshot It Is pure
The milkman- who doth whltl as he gns
And clatter ail his cans. In morning early,
Dotli make by cutting short their dose
And then the kid?, when other pests have
Who cut In with a brand-new sort of
By bringing down upon the Boor o'er head
And this is why, when wife would move
I rise the while, and scornfully hoaree
For when I die I fain would He me down
The lOOOth anniversary of the founding of
St. Peter's Church, Chester,. England, nndu
the structure In good condition, portions ot
It having been rebuilt in 1440 and 1073.