Chapter IX: Part 9

In selecting dogs for wolf-killing, the most essential qualities to be desired are courage, strength and stamina to sustain continued exertion, with plenty of force and dash. Training is a matter requiring unlimited patience, coupled with firmness and judgment, and a large amount of love for a dog. It also requires constant watchfulness of a dog's every movement and mood to make a successful wolf-courser of him. Many a good dog has been ruined at the outset by not being fully understood.

They should receive their first practical work when about one year old, provided they are sufficiently developed to stand the hard work necessary. They generally have mind enough at this age to know what is expected of them. It is, of course, better to hunt a young dog first with older and experienced dogs, which will take hold of any kind of game. The larger and stronger the dog, the better; for it requires immense powers of endurance, hardihood and strength to hold, much less kill, a wolf. The latter are particularly strong in the fore quarters and muscles of the neck and jaw. As an evidence of their great strength, I saw a wolf, while running at full speed, seize the Siberian wolfhound Zlooem by the shoulder and throw him bodily into the air, landing him on his back several feet away, and yet this wolf did not weigh as much as the dog.

Particular care should be taken to see that a young dog gets started right in his practical training. Encourage him with your presence; do all you can to see that he is sighted promptly; spare no expense or pains in getting a good mount, and keep as close as possible during the fighting; enliven him with your voice, and encourage him to renewed effort; for his ardor increases in proportion to the encouragement and praise received. Ride hard, to be in early at the death. His confidence once gained, he will place implicit reliance in your assistance; but, let him be beaten off once or twice through lack of encouragement, and he will soon lose his relish for the sport and show a disposition to hang back; while he may seem to be doing his best, a practiced eye will soon detect a want of ardor and dash. A pack of hounds, with a good strike dog and confidence in their owner, will carry everything before them; by keeping them in good heart they always expect success to crown their efforts.

If from any cause in the final struggle the dogs are getting the worst of it, or the other dogs refuse to assist the seizers, one must not hesitate an instant about assisting them; this requires perfect coolness, self-control and presence of mind, so as not to injure the dog. To attempt the use of the pistol or gun is too dangerous. A well-directed blow with a good strong hunting knife, delivered between the shoulders, will generally break the spine, leaving the wolf entirely at the mercy of the hounds.

I would advise no one to attempt the Russian method of taping the jaws while the wolf is held by the seizers. I had an experience of this kind once. After a long chase, the wolf, in his efforts to escape, leaped a wall, and, in alighting upon the farther side, thrust his head and neck through a natural loop formed by a grapevine growing around a tree. Reaching him as soon as the hounds, I fought them off; but, although he was virtually as fast as if in a vise, it required the united efforts of five of us to bind his legs and tape his jaws, and this was only accomplished after a severe struggle of some minutes. I am sure I would not have trusted any dog or dogs I ever hunted to have held him during this operation.

One should always be provided with a spool of surgeon's silk and a needle, for these will assuredly be called into use. Old Major, a greyhound owned by Dr. Van Hummel and myself, full of years and honors, is still alive. He was a typical seizer and afraid of nothing that wore hair. His entire body is seamed with innumerable scars, and has been sewed up so often that he resembles a veritable piece of needlework. As an evidence of his speed, strength and early training, I recollect that, shortly after I had hunted him in the West, I had him at my home in Kentucky. The Doctor was on a visit to me, and we had taken Major to the country with us while inspecting stock farms. At Wyndom Place, where we were admiring a handsome two-year-old Longfellow colt, running loose in the field, the owner, before we were aware of his intention, set Major after the colt "to show his speed and style." We both instantly saw his error, but it was too late--we could not call the dog off. He soon overhauled the colt, and, springing at his throat, down they went in a heap--the colt, worth a thousand dollars, ruined for life.

One of the most glaring instances of improper training and handling of wolfhounds that ever came under my observation was the Colorado wolf-hunt that attracted so much attention in the sporting press of this country, England and Russia. Mr. Paul Hacke, an enthusiastic fancier, of Pittsburg, Pa., while in Russia attended a wolf-killing contest in which the barzois contested with captive wolves. He became so much enamored of the sport that he purchased a number of trained barzois and brought them to this country. They were a handsome lot and attracted much attention while being exhibited at the bench shows. I was one of the official judges at the Chicago Bench Show in 1892, and wolfhound classes were assigned me. While I admired them very much for their handsome, showy appearance, I expressed grave doubts as to their ability to catch and kill timber wolves, notwithstanding I had read graphic accounts of their killing coyotes in thirty-five seconds. This doubt was shared and expressed by others present who had had practical experience in wolf-hunting. This coming to the ears of Mr. Hacke, who is always willing to back his opinion with his money, he issued a sweeping challenge offering to match a pair of barzois against any pair of dogs in the United States for a wolf-killing contest, for $500 a side. His challenge was promptly accepted by Mr. Geo. McDougall, of Butte City, Montana.

I was selected to judge the match, and in the spring of 1892 we made up a congenial carload and journeyed to Hardin, in the wilds of Colorado, where our sleeper was sidetracked. Arrangements were made at an adjoining horse ranch, and every morning a band of horses was promptly on hand at daylight. On the night of our arrival at Hardin, a fine saddle horse had been hamstrung in his owner's stable by wolves. It was a pitiful sight, and added zest to our determination to exterminate as many as possible.

We were awakened from our sound sleep the first morning by the familiar sounds of saddling, accompanied by the pawing and bucking of horses, swearing of men, and snarling and growling of dogs. After a hasty breakfast, eaten by lamplight, we were soon mounted and in motion for the rendezvous. We had hardly crossed the Platte River, near which our camp was located, before the advance guard announced a wolf in full flight. A glance through my field-glasses convinced me that it was an impudent coyote, and we continued our search. We had probably ridden an hour through sand and cactus before one of the hunters had a wolf up and going.

McDougall had selected Black Sam, a cross between a deerhound and a greyhound, as his first representative, and he was accordingly in the slips with a magnificent-looking barzoi representing Mr. Hacke. Porter, from Salt Lake, the slipper and an old-time hunter, had all he could do to hold them until the word to slip was given. They went away from the slips in great style, the barzoi getting a few feet the best of it; but in the lead up to the wolf the cross-breed made a go-by, and, overtaking the flying wolf, unhesitatingly seized and turned it. Before it could straighten out for another run, the barzoi was upon it, and unfortunately took a hind hold, which it easily broke. The cross-breed, without having received a cut or even a pinch, lost all interest in the proceedings, and stood around looking on as unconcerned as though there was not a wolf within a hundred miles; and, though the wolf assumed a combative attitude, at bay, ready to do battle, and made no effort to avoid her canine foes, neither dog could be induced to tackle her again. The barzoi acted as though he was willing if any assistance was afforded by the half-breed. Neither of these dogs showed any evidence of cowardice, in my opinion, though credited with it by representatives of the press present. The evidences of this feeling are unmistakable, and I have seen fear and terror too often expressed by dogs, when attacked or run by wolves, not to recognize it when present. They did not turn a hair, and walked about within twenty feet of the wolf with their tails carried as gayly as though they were on exhibition at a bench show. Very different was the action of a rancher's dog, evidently a cross between a St. Bernard and a mastiff, that came up at this stage of the game. As soon as he caught sight of the wolf, every hair on his back reversed, his tail drooped between his legs, and the efforts of three strong men could hardly have held him. This I call fear and cowardice; the actions of the others, a lack of proper training and knowledge of how to fight. As the wolf was a female and apparently heavy with whelp, I at the time thought this was the cause of their queer actions; but later, when skinning the wolf for the pelt, I found no evidence of whelp, but a stomach full of calf's flesh. In the second course, Allan Breck, a big, powerful Scotch deerhound, and Nipsic, a lighter female of the same breed, were put in the slips and a male wolf put up. They readily overhauled him. Allan, leading several lengths in the run up, promptly took a shoulder hold and bowled over the wolf; then, as though he considered his whole duty performed, quietly looked on, while Nipsic kept up a running fight with the wolf, attacking him a score of times, but was unable alone to disable or kill him. It was only after the wolf and Nipsic were lassoed and dragged apart by horsemen that she desisted in her crude efforts to kill the wolf. She displayed no lack of courage, but a total lack of training and knowledge of how to fight. In the final course two grand specimens of the barzoi were placed in the slips; one of them, Zlooem, a magnificent animal, all power and life, who had won the Czar's gold medal in St. Petersburg in a wolf contest, impressed me forcibly with the idea that, if he once obtained a throat hold, it would be all over with the wolf. On this occasion I had a most excellent mount, a thoroughbred Kentucky race mare, and, as one of the conditions of the match was that I alone was to be allowed to follow the hounds, I determined to stay with them throughout the run at all hazards, and to be in at the death. The wolf was put up in the bottom land of the Platte River. The footing was excellent, and, as he had but a few hundred yards' start, I was enabled to be within fifty yards of them throughout the run and fighting. The wolf at first started off as though he had decided to depend upon speed to save his pelt, disdaining to employ his usual stratagem, and the hounds gained but little upon him. Finding that but one horseman and two strange-looking animals were following him, he slackened his pace, and in an incredibly short time Zlooem was upon even terms with him, and, seizing by the throat, over and over they went in a cloud of sand, from which the wolf emerged first, again on the retreat, with both hounds after him full tilt. Within a hundred yards they again downed him, only to be shaken off. This was repeated probably a half dozen times, and, though both the barzois had throat and flank holds, they were unable to "stretch him." After five minutes of fast and furious fighting, they dashed into a bunch of frightened cattle and became separated. Though I immediately cut the wolf out of the bunch of cattle and he limped off in full view, the dogs were too exhausted to follow, and their condition was truly pitiable. Zlooem staggered about and fell headlong upon his side, unable to rise. Both were so thoroughly exhausted from their tremendous efforts that they could not stand upon their feet; their tongues were swollen and protruding full length, their breath came in short and labored gasps, the whistle and rattle in their throats was audible at some distance, while their legs trembled and were really unable to sustain the weight of their bodies. At the expiration of ten minutes, I signaled the slippers to come and take the dogs up; and thus ended the bid of the Russian wolfhound for popularity in this country.

Upon our return to Denver we were waited upon by a ranchman who had heard of the failure of a pair of these dogs to catch and kill wolves. He stated that he had a leash of greyhounds that could catch and kill gray timber wolves, and deposited $500 to bind a match to that effect. He was very much in earnest, and I regretted that we could not raise a purse of $500, as I should like to have seen the feat performed--my experience being that it required from four to six to accomplish this, and that even then they have to understand their business thoroughly.

_Roger D. Williams._

Game Laws

Laws for the preservation of wild animals are a product of civilization. The more civilized a nation, the broader and more humane will be these laws.

Our ancestors of the flint age were lawless. After the fall "thorns also and thistles" came forth, and man ceased from eating herb-bearing seed and fruit, and turned his hand to killing and eating flesh--"even as Nimrod, the mighty hunter before the Lord." Many great and dangerous animals then existed, and it was a necessity to kill off the cave bear, the cave tiger and the mastodon. The earliest of Chaldean poems indicates the equally great fishing of those days: "Canst thou draw out leviathan with an hook, or his tongue with a cord which thou lettest down?" All savage nations are still ruthless and wasteful in their destruction of animal life. An example is found on the plains, where a thousand buffalo were driven over the walls of a canyon that a tribe might have a feast, although the tribe might, and often did, starve during the coming winter.

With the slow progress of civilization, at first customs grew up, and then laws were enacted consonant with the degree of education of the lawmakers. In ancient Oriental nations only a few animals were protected for the use of the rulers. Thus the elephant, the cheetah and the falcon in the East came under royal protection. The Normans, when they were not at war, followed the chase with ardor, and passed laws for the protection of deer, wolves and the wild boar. The Saxons, like the Romans, guarded their forest preserves, but left the open country free for chase to all the people. After the Conquest the new Norman rulers applied their own stern and selfish laws over all England. Not only was the chase forbidden, but the bearing of arms used in the chase as well, and the conquerors thus preserved the game for their own use, and also kept in subjection the disarmed people. Their punishments were barbarous, and comprised maiming and death, and the killing of a deer or a wild boar was punished with putting out the eyes or death. No greater penalty was inflicted for the killing of a man.

The underlying principle maintained was that all wild game was the property of no one, and that to which no one had title belonged to the sovereign. So the king held all lands not apportioned, and granted permission to his chiefs to hunt therein. He also created the right of _free chase_, _warren_ and _free fishery_, thus authorizing a designated person to protect game and to follow the chase on the land of others, or protect and take fish from rivers and streams that flowed over the properties of other men. These claims of right became numerous and so burdensome that they were subsequently restricted by Magna Charta. The fascination of the chase, indulged in for years, became so inwrought in the English mind that it formed the principal recreation of the people, shared in alike by nobles, priests and peasants, evoking a world of romance and legend in Robin Hood tales, and a sturdy, semi-warlike pride. The exercise formed a school of stalwart out-of-door men, whose descendants of like taste have invaded the remotest isles of the sea, and girdled the earth with the colonies of England. The taste made its fair mark on English verse from the early date of Chevy Chase, when,

To chase the deer with hawk and hound
Earl Percy took his way,

down to this present year of grace, when Conan Doyle's archer sings:

So we'll drink all together
To the grey goose feather,
And the land where the grey goose flew.

The pomp and dignity of the chase, its pursuit by the highest clergy and the sad result of want of skill by an archbishop are quaintly disclosed in the trial of the Archbishop of Canterbury for accidentally killing a game-keeper instead of a deer in the forest of Bramshill in the year 1621, as reported at length in Vol. II. of Cobbett's State Trials.

The right in the crown to all wild game, thus claimed and established in England, became part of the common law, and was inherited by the American colonies; and thus wild game in our Republic became the property of the people, and the duty of its care and protection fell upon the different States of the Republic, and in the territories upon Congress.

It is unnecessary to enumerate the different game laws and the various cruel judgments entered therein in the English courts, or to refer to the many essays and orations written and delivered against the game laws of the various European States. They met the condemnation alike of philanthropists, statesmen and poets. Charles Kingsley wrote in 1848, on behalf of the people, the bold and pathetic song:

The merry brown hares came leaping
Over the crest of the hill.

It defended the poacher lad, but lost for the writer his lawn sleeves.

The great distinction to be ever borne in mind between the game laws of Europe and those of America is, that the former were passed for the protection of game for a class, while the laws of a republic are passed for the preservation of game for the use of all the people. The former encountered the hostility of all the people save the aristocracy; the latter should obtain the approbation of all the people, rich and poor, for they are passed and maintained for the good of the people at large.

The value of the fish and game to the people of the State of Maine is greater and brings into the State more money than its hay crop or its potato crop. The value of a mountain stream is nothing except as it may water people or kine. Stock and protect that river by suitable laws, and the fishing privileges may be rented for an annual rental that will pay all the taxes of every county through which it runs. Yet often it is that the inhabitant of that county complains of the injustice of preventing him from taking fish therein at his pleasure at any season of the year.

The earliest recorded game law is found in the twenty-second chapter of Deuteronomy, where it is forbidden to take a bird from her nest. The earliest law upon this subject in America that we find was the act of the Assembly of Virginia of 1699, II. William III., wherein the killing of deer between January and July was prohibited under a penalty of 500 pounds of tobacco. In Maryland an act was passed on the same subject in 1730, which recites the evils of constant shooting--"Which evil practice, if not put a stop to, may in a few years entirely destroy the species of deer, to the great damage of the good people of this province; be it enacted by the Right Honorable the Lord proprietary, by and with the consent of his Lordship's Governor and the upper and lower Houses of Assembly, that it should not be lawful that any person (Indians in amity with us excepted), between January first and July last, to kill any deer under the penalty of 400 pounds of tobacco." South Carolina followed in 1769 with an act prohibiting the killing of deer during the same period, "under a penalty of forty shillings proclamation money." Both of these acts prohibited night hunting with fire-light, as did also the Statutes of the Mississippi Territory.

The earliest laws upon this subject in Kentucky were passed in 1775 by the Legislature, appropriately holding its sessions under the greenwood trees, and their author was Daniel Boone.

The earliest law in the State of New York was passed in 1791 (2 Session Laws of 1791, p. 188), and it prohibited the killing of "heath hen, partridge, quail or woodcock" on Long Island, or "in the city and county of New York," under penalty of twenty shillings.

Laws upon this subject thereafter multiplied in New York, varying in their scope and character with every Legislature. Sometimes the prosecution was left to the county prosecutor; sometimes it was permitted to the informer, who shared the penalty; sometimes the power of enacting laws was reserved to the State; sometimes it was delegated to the supervisors. In 1879, by the influence of the Society for the Preservation of Game, a complete act was passed, entitled "An Act for the Preservation of Moose and Wild Deer, Birds, Fish and other Game," which for many years was vigorously enforced by that Society, and became the model for like laws in many other States. This law made the possession of game during the close season the offense, and not _prima facie_ evidence of killing, and also it removed from the various local supervisors the power of making laws upon this subject.

These two essential features of law cannot be too strongly insisted upon with all lawmakers. Under this statute hundreds of prosecutions were made and convictions had in the markets of the great cities. The bidding for game by wealthy cities is the incentive to unlawful killing, and the closing of the markets stops the poacher's business more thoroughly than the conviction of an occasional poacher. When the law permitted game killed in other States during the open season to be sold in the State of New York in the close season, there was no lack of evidence to show that every head of game was killed elsewhere and in the open season, and the petit jury always found in favor of the oppressed market man. When the law was changed so that all game, wherever killed, was decreed illegal, the defense was plead that such a law restricted commerce and was unconstitutional; and it was not until the Society carried the case of Royal Phelps, President of the Society for the Preservation of Game, against Racey, through to the court of last resort, as reported in 60th New York Reports, that this defense was decreed insufficient. That case was followed in Illinois (97 Ill., 320), and Missouri (1st Mo. App., 15), and in other States, until it became the established law of the land. The Supreme Court of the United States held (125 U. S., 465), that a State cannot prohibit the importation of merchandise from another State, but can the sale. That court also sustained the right of States to protect fisheries and destroy illegal nets (Lawton _vs._ Steel, 152 U. S.), and it affirmed the right of States to compel the maintenance of fishways in dams erected in rivers (Holyoke Co. _vs._ Lyman, 82 U. S.). The United States courts also maintained purchaser's title to marsh lands and enjoined trespassers from shooting thereon in Chisholm _vs._ Caines (U. S. Circuit Court of the 4th District). Thus, step by step, the game laws of the land were sustained, held to be constitutional and enforced.

The forms of defense which offenders deem it righteous to make to game prosecutions are without number, and as fraudulent as their trade is wasteful. One instance will illustrate. The writer, as counsel for the Society for the Protection of Game, prosecuted one Clark, a prominent poulterer in State street in Albany, for having and offering for sale several barrels of quail. The case was tried at Albany, Hon. Amasa J. Parker appearing for the defense. After the plaintiff's witnesses had proved the possession of the birds, the offering for sale as quail, and the handling of several of them by the witnesses, the defendant testified that these birds were not quail at all, but were English snipe, and that their bills were pared down and the birds were thus sold as quail, as they brought a better price, and that he frequently did so in his trade. Probably no person in the court-room believed this evidence, but the jury found for the defendant.

The defense has been frequently interposed, that the birds in question were not the prohibited birds, but were some other or foreign variety, until it was found that it was necessary always to purchase and to produce in court, fresh or dried, some of the game in regard to which the suit was being tried.

Before leaving the litigation of the courts of the State of New York, and in order to show how early and ardently the gentlemen of the old school followed the diversions of the chase, it is well to cite the case of Post against Pierson, tried in 1805 before the venerable Judges Tompkins and Livingston, and reported in 3d Cain's New York Reports. It there appears that Mr. Post, a worthy citizen of that most traditional hunting ground, Long Island, organized a fox-hunt. The chase went merrily--

An hundred hounds bayed deep and strong,
Clattered an hundred [more or less] steeds along,

and they started a fox and had him in view, when one Pierson, of Hempstead, the defendant in the case, well knowing of the chase, yet with wicked and felonious mind intercepted, shot, killed and carried away the fox. Post brought suit for the value of the animal, and the injury to the outraged feelings of the members of the hunt. Counsel learned in the law declaimed, and the wise opinion of the court, citing all the authorities from Puffendorf down, covers five printed pages, and finally decided that, "However uncourteous or unkind the conduct of Pierson in this instance may have been, yet this act was productive of no injury or damage for which a legal remedy can be applied."

Probably to correct this ruling, the Statute of 1844 was passed, which provides that anyone who starts and pursues deer in the Counties of Suffolk and Queens shall be deemed in possession of the same.

A great responsibility is thrown upon the Government of the United States to protect the large game in the different national parks. In a few years they will contain the only remnants of the buffalo, elk, antelope and mountain sheep. Poachers, like wolves, surround these parks, killing only to sell the heads for trophies. Captain George S. Anderson and Scout F. Burgess have done a good work in the Yellowstone Park in capturing poachers, which efforts were recognized by the Boone and Crockett Club. If authority should be given to the army to try and punish these poachers by martial law, it would save many a herd elsewhere, and also relieve the Government from great expense for the transporting and trial of offenders.

When we reflect how many and valuable races of animals in North America have become extinct or nearly so, as the buffalo and the manatee; how many varieties of birds that afforded us food, or brightened the autumn sky with their migrations, have been annihilated, as have been the prairie fowl in the Eastern States and the passenger pigeon in all our States, the necessity of these laws appears urgent. A few suggestions that experience has taught us in regard to these matters are worthy of record.

We must remember that in a republic no law is effective without public opinion to back it. Therefore, contemporaneously with making our laws, we should by writing and speaking educate the public mind to appreciate and sustain them. Experience has taught that in these prosecutions the public prosecutor is a laggard. He prefers noted criminal cases and neglects these, which he regards as trivial offenses. Therefore the law should authorize private prosecutors, on giving security for costs and damages, to make search and conduct prosecutions in their own names.

Next, it is to be remembered that a single private person will make himself odious in the community by bringing such prosecutions, and is often deterred by the fear of revenge. Therefore, societies should be formed, composed of many good citizens; they should employ their own counsel, and prosecute in the name of the society or its president.

Next, the law should definitely fix a penalty for having in possession, transporting or exposing for sale. This is more important than prohibiting the killing, as it is the marketing of dead game that incites the killing. It is the market hunter that has destroyed all feathered life on our prairies, and the cold storage process has enabled him to transport to other States or countries, and make his gains there. Close the market and the killing ceases.

Another step to success is the procuring of the conformity of the laws in neighboring States. The laws of New York may prohibit the sale of quail, ruffed grouse and prairie fowl, and the societies may enforce them in New York city, and day by day see the monstrous wrong of carloads of prairie fowl and other valuable game brought into Jersey City, and sold to the population of that town and to the ocean vessels sailing from its docks. Our Western prairies are denuded of their birds, that are frozen in the close season and are afterward shipped to Europe, and sold in the markets there at a price often less than they would bring in New York city.

Again, laws on these subjects should be as simple as possible, including in the one open and close season as many kinds of game as possible, and creating a general public understanding that the shooting season opens at a fixed date, say October 1st, and that no shooting or possession of game is to be allowed prior to that date, and that the close season for all game should commence on another certain date, say February 1st.

Lastly, a defective law, that is permanent and uniform throughout the State, is more effective than a better and more detailed law varying in different counties and towns, and frequently altered. In illustration of the vagaries of lawmakers in this respect, it is to be remembered that the law of 1879, passed by the Legislature of the State of New York, was a complete and well-studied statute, made after much consultation, and meeting the approval of all the societies of the State, as well as the market men, and operated in the main satisfactorily to all. Since that date members of the Legislature from the different localities introduced bills making some exception or addition to the act, to benefit their little town or locality, to prohibit fishing in certain waters, to protect certain other animals, to provide certain restrictions as to weapons of chase or means of fishing, or times and seasons; or giving powers to county supervisors to legislate in addition to the general legislation of the State. Two hundred and fourteen such acts and ordinances have been passed since 1879, until the general law has been obscured and brought into contempt. These acts and ordinances include, among other curiosities, the protection of muskrats and mink, the preservation of skunks and other vermin, the prohibition of residents of one county from fishing in another county, and protecting parts of certain lakes or rivers in a different manner or season from other parts. In some of the acts words are misspelled; in one it is enacted that "_wild birds_ shall not be killed at any time." Another act was passed defining the word "angling," as used in the general statute, thus--"taking fish with hook and line and by rod held in hands," leaving the troller or the happy schoolboy, that drops his hand-line from the bridge, exposed to the dire penalties of the law. While writing in this year of grace, eighteen hundred and ninety-five, the Legislature has passed a law permitting the sale of game at any time in the year, providing it is shown to have been killed 300 miles from the State.

This most unreasonable law was procured largely through the influence of the Chicago market men. The States lying west of Chicago have been endeavoring to protect their game. Salutary laws have been passed prohibiting the killing and freezing of game, and the transportation of it outside of those territories. The markets of Chicago and the other great cities of the West being closed to the public sale of game, the dealers sought to open the markets of New York, and they have thus done so by this law. The Governor was fully advised of the purpose and effect of the law, but the powerful societies of the market men were promoting it and the bill was approved. In a few years the conspicuous prairie fowl will exist only in the naturalists' books.

In olden times laws upon these subjects protected only animals which lent pleasure to the chase, and also certain royal fish which were deemed to belong to the king. These old laws were selfish and severe, and were enforced with the cruelty of the age. A gentler spirit has since dawned upon the world, and now most game laws shelter as well the song bird as the wild boar and the stag. The true hunter derives more pleasure in watching the natural life around him than in killing the game that he meets. His heart feels the poetry of nature in the "wren light rustling among the leaves and twigs," and in the train of ducks as,

Darkly seen against the crimson sky,
Their figure floats along.

He stops to enjoy the guttural syllables where "Robert of Lincoln is telling his name" in the summer meadow. At early dawn and eventide he listens to the bugle call of the great migration in the skies and exclaims:

Thou hast no sorrow in thy song,
No winter in thy year.

He feels the love that is begotten by contact with nature, and he it is in these later days who has extended the laws to protect all birds of meadow and woods, while in return he is rewarded by a choir of songsters giving thanks in musical numbers,

Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures,
That in books are found.

_Chas. E. Whitehead._

Protection of the Yellowstone National Park

The first regular expedition to enter the region now embraced within the limits of the National Park was the Washburn party of 1870.

In the summer of 1871 two parties--one under Captain J. W. Barlow, U. S. Engineers, and the other under Dr. F. V. Hayden, U. S. Geological Survey--made pretty thorough scientific explorations of the whole area.

As a result of the reports made by these two parties, and largely through the influence of Dr. Hayden, the organic act of March 1, 1872, was passed, setting aside a certain designated "tract of land as a public park or pleasure ground for the benefit and enjoyment of the people." It further provided that this Park should be "under the exclusive control of the Secretary of the Interior, whose duty it shall be, as soon as practicable, to make and publish such rules and regulations as he may deem necessary or proper for the care and management of the same. Such regulations shall provide for the preservation from injury or spoliation of all timber, mineral deposits, natural curiosities or wonders within the Park.

"He shall provide against the wanton destruction of the fish and game found within said Park, and against their capture or destruction for the purpose of merchandise or profit.

"And generally shall be authorized to take all such measures as shall be necessary or proper to fully carry out the objects or purposes of this act."

It will be seen that "timber, mineral deposits, natural curiosities and wonders" were, by the terms of the _law_, protected from "injury or spoliation." The Secretary of the Interior must, by _regulation_, "provide against the wanton destruction of fish and game," and against their "capture for the purpose of merchandise or profit." The Park proper includes nearly 3,600 square miles, but under the act of 1891 a timber reserve was set aside, adding about twenty-five miles on the east and about eight on the south, making the total area nearly 5,600 square miles. By an order of the Secretary of the Interior, dated April 14, 1891, this addition was placed under the control of the Acting Superintendent of the Park, "with the same rules and regulations" as in the Park; it thus in every respect became a part of the Park itself.

Dr. Hayden drew the Park bill from his personal observations, made in the summer of 1871. At that time the territorial lines were not run, and their exact location was not known. He consequently chose for his initial points the natural features of the ground, and made his lines meridians and parallels of latitude. His selections seem almost a work of inspiration. The north line takes in the low slopes on the north of Mt. Everts and the valley of the East Fork of the Yellowstone, where the elk, deer, antelope and mountain sheep winter by thousands; it leaves outside every foot of land adapted to agriculture; also--and this is more important than all--it passes over the rugged and inaccessible summits of the snowy range, where the hardiest vandal dare not put his shack.

The east line might have been placed where the timber reserve line now runs without much damage to material interests; but in that case the owners of prospect holes about Cooke City would have long since secured segregation. As the line runs, it is secured by the impassable Absarokas--the summer home of large herds of mountain sheep--and it includes not a foot of land of a dime's value to mortal man. Both south and west lines are protected by mountain heights, and they exclude every foot of land of any value for agriculture, or even for the grazing of domestic cattle.

The experiment was once made of wintering a herd of cattle in the lowest part of the Park--the Falls River meadows, in the extreme southwest corner--and, I believe, not a hoof survived. Their bones by the hundreds now whiten the fair valley.

Following the act of dedication, Mr. N. P. Langford was on May 10, 1872, appointed superintendent, without salary. He was directed to "apply any money which may be received from leases to carrying out the object of the act." He never lived in the Park, never drew a salary, and never, except by reports and recommendations, did anything for its protection. In his first report he suggests that "wild game of all kinds be protected by law," that trapping be prohibited, and that the timber be protected from the axman and from fires. Unfortunately I am unable to possess myself of any of his subsequent reports; but I know that he toiled earnestly and without pay--and to no results.

On April 18, 1877, Mr. P. W. Norris was appointed to succeed him. He also served for love until July 5, 1878, when appropriations began, and something was done for "Park protection." In his report for 1879 he speaks of having stopped the killing of bison, and says that other game, although "grown shy by the usually harmless fusillade of tourists," was in "abundance for our largest parties." He also protected the wonders by breaking them off with ax and crowbar, and shipping them by the carload to Washington and elsewhere. His men did their best to protect the forests from fires, and with only fair success. By this report (1879) it seems that "no white men have ever spent an entire winter at the Mammoth Hot Springs"; he strongly recommended game protection, but not the prohibition of hunting. There was then but a single game superintendent, and he without authority to act. As at present, the main trouble was with the "Clark's Fork" people. The regulations permitted hunting for "recreation" or "for food," which would always be made to cover the object of any captured poacher.

Major Norris was doubtless a valuable man for the place and the time; but, as he expressed it in a manifesto dated July 1, 1881, and headed "Mountain Comrades," "The construction of roads and bridle paths will be our main object," to which he added the work of "explorations and research." His entire force lived upon game, which was hunted only in season, and preserved, or jerked, for a supply for the remainder of the year. He was succeeded by Mr. P. H. Conger on February 2, 1882, but Mr. Conger did not arrive until May 22 following, when he seems to have fallen full upon the trials and the tribulations that have beset his successors. He reported the necessity for protecting the wonders and the game, but seems to have accomplished nothing in either direction. His reports are largely made up of lists of the distinguished visitors by whose hand-shake he was anointed. He was relieved in August, 1884, by Mr. R. E. Carpenter, who was removed in May, 1885, without accomplishing anything. Mr. David W. Wear was next in succession, and remained until legislated out of office in August, 1886. Nothing of value seems to have been done in these two administrations. In the sundry civil appropriation bill for 1886-87 the item for the protection and improvement of the Park was omitted. By the act of March 3, 1883, the Secretary of War was authorized, on request from the Secretary of the Interior, to detail part of the army for duty in the Park, the commander of the troops to be the acting superintendent. As there was no money appropriated to pay the old officers, they, of course, had business elsewhere. Captain Moses Harris, First Cavalry, was the first detailed under the new regime. He arrived there on August 17, 1886, and assumed control on the 20th. From this time on things assumed a different aspect. He had the assistance of a disciplined troop of cavalry, and he used it with energy and discretion. It very soon became unsafe to trespass in the Park, winter or summer, and load upon load of confiscated property testified to the number of his captures. His reports show the heroic efforts made to prevent and extinguish fires, to prevent the defacement of the geysers and other formations, and to protect the game. In his report for 1887 he pays his respects to our enemies from "the northern and eastern borders"--the same hand that has continued to depredate until this day. He speaks of the "immense herds of elk that have passed the winter along the traveled road from Gardiner to Cooke City," and he goes on to say that "but little efficient protection can be afforded to this species of game except upon the Yellowstone and its tributaries." He remained in charge until June 1, 1889, when he transferred his duties to Captain F. A. Boutelle, and in the three years of his rule he inaugurated and put in motion most of the protective measures now in use.

Captain Boutelle, in succession to Captain Harris, continued his methods, and protection prospered. Meantime, in 1889, an additional troop of cavalry was detailed for duty in the Park in the summer, and had station at the Lower Geyser Basin. The principal use of this troop was in protecting the formations and the forests, but the work was well done and the foundation was laid for future efficiency.

I came to the Park in February, 1891, in succession to Captain Boutelle. On his departure there was only one man left here familiar with the Park and its needs, and that was Ed. Wilson, the scout. He had been a trapper himself, and was thoroughly familiar with every species of game and its haunts and habits. He was brave as Caesar, but feared the mysterious and unseen. He preferred to operate alone by night and in storms; he knew every foot of the Park, and knew it better than any other man has yet known it; he knew its enemies and the practical direction of their enmity. He came to me one morning and reported that a man named Van Dyck was trapping beaver near Soda Butte; that he spent his days on the highest points in the neighborhood, and with a glass scanned every approach; and that the only way to get him was to go alone, by night, and approach the position from the rear, over Specimen Mountain. To this I readily assented, and at 9 that night, in as bad a storm as I ever saw, Wilson started out for the forty-mile trip. He reached a high point near the one occupied by Van Dyck, saw him visit his traps in the twilight and return to his camp, where at daybreak the next morning Wilson came upon him while sleeping, photographed him with his own kodak, and then awakened him and brought him to the post. But, unfortunately for the cause of Park protection, Wilson disappeared in July of that year, and his remains were found a mile from headquarters in the June following. That left me unsupported by anyone who knew the place and its foes; I was fortunate, however, in having as his successor Felix Burgess, who for more than three years has ably, bravely and intelligently performed the perilous and thankless duties of the position.

But before going on with a description of my own work in the Park, I will say a few words of my predecessors. In looking over the list, I think I can, without disparagement of the rest, single out three for especial mention.

Langford was an explorer and pioneer; by his writings he made the Park known to this country and to the whole world. He was an enthusiast and his enthusiasm was contagious. Protection was not yet needed, but a knowledge of the place was, and to this he largely contributed. He was the proper man and he came at the proper time.

Next came Major Norris. To him protection was a minor or unconsidered subject. His "usually harmless fusillade of tourists" reminds one of Paddy's remark to his master: "Did I hit the deer, Pat?" "No, my lord, but you made him l'ave the place." For his time he was exactly suited; he penetrated every remote nook and corner; built roads, blazed trails, and in general made accessible all the wonders written of and described by Mr. Langford. Protection was not yet due, but it was on the road and close at hand.

For this part of the work Major Harris was an ideal selection, and he came none too soon. Austere, correct, unyielding, he was a terror to evil doers. And, after all, is there anything more disagreeable than a man who is always right? I believe Major Harris was always _sure_ he was right before he acted, and then no fear of consequences deterred him. He once arrested a man for defacing the formations at the Upper Basin. The man confessed that he had done it, but that it was a small offense, and that if put out of the Park for it he would publish the Major in all the Montana papers. He was put out, and the Major was vilified in a manner with which I am personally very familiar. The next year this same man was sent to the penitentiary for one year for "holding up" one of the Park coaches in the Gardiner Canyon. In 1891 I derived great assistance in the protection of the wonders and the forests from Captain Edwards, who, with his troop, had served in the Park before. Unfortunately he had to leave in the autumn, and I was again left alone with my ignorance and my good intentions.

In May, 1892, Troop D of the Sixth Cavalry was sent to my assistance. Captain Scott was in command, and he has remained until the present time. Hard as iron, tireless and fearless, he has been an invaluable assistant in all that pertains to Park protection.

In protecting the beauties and wonders of the Park from vandalism, the main things to be contended against were the propensities of women to gather "specimens," and of men to advertise their folly by writing their names on everything beautiful within their reach. Small squads of soldiers were put on guard at each of the geyser basins, and at other points where protection was needful, with orders to arrest and threaten with expulsion anyone found breaking off or gathering specimens. Only a few examples were needed to materially diminish this evil. Of course, it still continued in small degree, but those who indulged in it had to be at great pains to conceal their operations, and this of itself greatly reduced the destruction. I personally engaged in a long controversy with a reverend despoiler, whom I detected in the act of breaking off a specimen. A large part of his defense was that, as I had on no uniform, he did not know it was necessary to be watchful and careful in my presence.

The names of the vain glared at one from every bit of formation, and from every place where the ingenuity of vanity could place them. Primarily I ordered that every man found writing his name on the formations should be sent back and made to erase it. I once sent a man from the Mammoth Springs and once a man from the Canyon to the Upper Basin to scrub his autograph from the rocks; and one morning a callow youth from the West was aroused at 6:30 A. M. at the Fountain Hotel and taken, with brush and soap, to the Fountain Geyser, there to obliterate the supposed imperishable monument of his folly. His parents, who were present, were delighted with the judgment awarded him, and his fellow tourists by their taunts and gibes covered him with confusion as with a garment. But, notwithstanding the sharpest watch and greatest care, new names were constantly being added, and they could not easily be detected from the old ones on account of the number of names already there. So, in the early part of the season of 1892, with hammer and chisel, where necessary, the old names were erased and we started even with the world, and the geyser basins are practically free from this disfigurement to-day. The remedy was heroic and successful, as such remedies usually are.