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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. s Colorado Sportsman and Tells a Thrilling of tory How imter's TTT -is-." -i f- j7S. SfS G-CSJZE AND D , 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 AVi wMv vO" -i r ir-'-S Jr v.. IrJ r,i f s.s ..r khzJ;, O. ...:.flf..M He Satisfied the Greatest Ambition III1 "-y- vnk i .-j.- m x"1 . y ..r . n jco. .vx SS,- '.WSf: n- at fx V Mr- V " SV J HIS GJLIZZZ.Y 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 the horses. "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 - - " Cli a.j- jc. : - " 1- v X 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 throb. "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 1 .rf Picture Village With Hardily a Speck of Dust 'III V -1 (hrcy , J -1 ui: - - - . .,. B,,B,,,,,IB"--,,,BI"",B,,,l,','afc,,1 7VfZT PERMANENT 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 through them. 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 afternoon hour. 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 away spot. 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 swept composition. 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 years.,' 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 woman! "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 look technical. "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 down. "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 bulbs. "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 they can." 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 the expressman. "Bill, you are to ride us -now, Bill, Just over the tracks and back." fErTiiSiiSlt 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 stillness. 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. FLAT LIFE. Denvw Republican. Apparently to some It doth appear Tj overwork a phonograph Is lawful. But. Just the same, to us who have to hear It's awful.' 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 Kxanperatlon. The milkman- who doth whltl as he gns And clatter ail his cans. In morning early, Dotli make by cutting short their dose .Men aurly. And then the kid?, when other pests have fled. Who cut In with a brand-new sort of clamor , By bringing down upon the Boor o'er head A hammer. And this is why, when wife would move to town, I rise the while, and scornfully hoaree hoot her; For when I die I fain would He me down A commuter! 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.