-- woodcock hovering her helpless young; -it that same clause empower that owner to authorize his friend to do like shameful murder, does it befit the gentle and the generous, the courteous and the chivalrous-for such should the true sportsman be to avail himself of so miserable a pettifogging subterfuge ? Ashamed to hear of it, thou wert, Col. D-P-r, for thou didst blush, confused, and stammer faint apology, when charged with thy misdoings; why not ashamed to do it, gallant colonel? or how shall we dare to enforce the law, or pray for legislative aid to save our proper birds from others, if one from among ourselves resort to small evasion-descend to dirty depredations? I trust, indeed, that the day will ere long arrive-if not ere long, then will it never be when all true sportsmen, and their name, in this land of guns, is legion, will set their faces steadily toward game protection, as steadily against those false brothers of the gun, who, crying out, protect! protect! yet lose, themselves, no opportunity, when unsuspected or unseen, of slaughtering for the bag, and for the brag, at all risks, in all manners, and at all seasons. 6 There certainly is no more manly, no more salubrious, no more animating sport, than the pursuit of game, with the trained dog and the gun. It naturally induces hardihood, and strength of limb, freeness of breath, vigor of constitution; it makes men familiar with those works of God, in the field and forest, which are unknown to the dwellers of pent cities! To the studious and sedentary scholar, it is a salutary change of habits, a better tonic and restorative than any bark or bitters; to the rich citizen, the man of wealth and luxury, and leisure, it is almost the only thing that shall save him from drivelling down into a mere gluttonous sensualist, or, yet worse, a mere effeminate man-milliner. It leads us into the wildest and the fairest scenes of nature; it brings us quietly to think and ponder with ourselves; it teaches us the habits and the instincts of those inferior animals, which we too much incline to undervalue; it causes us to weigh their instincts, to compare them with our own boasted reason; it discovers to us, that the poorest bird, the humblest quadruped, has gifts and attributes, greater than we possess, and exquisitely suited to its wants. Does it not lead us, then, to self-examination in some sort, and to humility; to the knowledge of ourselves, of our fellow-men, and of the great works of our Maker? I, for one, think so; and I never hear a greasy-faced, sanctimonious fellow declaim against the cruelty, the wantonness, and the unprofitableness of field sports, but I set him down for an arrant fool, or an arrant hypocrite-but I long to assure him, that in the eyes of Heaven, and, God be thanked, even of this world also, some pursuits are held profitable, beside that of the almighty dollar; and some amusements innocent, beside cheating our neighbors in the street, and calling that business; or slandering them by the fireside, and calling that conversation! I believe, therefore, that field-sports, not carried to excess, but used in their proper places, and at their proper times, are very innocent, very creditable, and very profitable, and very improving pastime. For my own part, I know that they have ministered incalculably to the improvement of my bodily health; and I am sure, at least, that they have not deteriorated my mental faculties; nor do I conceive how any reasonable man can fail to discover that some inducement is necessary to lead men to take that degree of exercise, which is necessary to the maintenance of the mens sana in corpore sano; and that there can be no stronger or better inducement, than this ancient and masculine amusement, which never was decried until these effete days, rich mainly in hypocrisy and humbug. Xenophon said, of old, that there was no sport so suitable to the making of soldiers, as this said sport of hunting; and, to this day, it is true that the ability-nay, not ability only, but willinguess-to endure all extremes of heat and cold, of thirst and hunger, of fatigue and watchfulness, to which the sportsman must inure himself, is that, precisely, which in the highest degree constitutes the aptitude of the citizen to be the soldier. Nor is this all; for the readiness of hand, and quickness of eye, the instinctive rapidity of thought and glance, and the coolness under surprise, which the sportsman must needs acquire if he would be successful, are qualities more requisite than any to the warrior. Depending, as America does mainly, if not entirely, for her defence, on the facility of converting her citizens into soldiers, I think that all consistent means should be taken to prevent that, of which I fancy there is some danger, at least in the grent cities; the growth, I mean, of luxury and effeminate habits among the rising generation. Destroy game-abolish field sports, and you abolish the most manly of exercises; you leave the lounge in fashionable streets, or the drive in easy chariots, as the sole out-of-doors amusement of the wealthy man; and to the poor man you leave none at all, but rioting and what is termed rowdyism-if these can be called amusements. For all these reasons, therefore, I think it highly advisable that the extermination of game in the vicinity of our large cities should be prevented if possible; and that it can only be prevented by the speedy interposition of the states' legislatures, backed by a truer and more single spirit than now exists among those who are proud of the name, even when they possess too few of the attributes, of honorable sportsmen, I hold certain. To these, therefore, I appeal in protection especially of the woodcock— which will, most assuredly, before ten years have elapsed, be as utterly exterminated, within fifty miles of NewYork, and within the like circuit of all other large cities, as are the deer and the heath-hen-nay, the wild turkies, which once peopled our own huntinggrounds. In conclusion-I find, on reference to my last article on this subject, that I made allusion to a mode of killing the woodcock commonly practised in the southern states, which is so singular, and so completely at variance with all our ideas of sporting in these regions, that it deserves mention, and will, I doubt not, be interesting to many readers who may never have heard of such a process-which, unheard of, they certainly never would imagine. This process is termed fire hunting; it is carried on, of course, at night, and arises from the habits of the bird in that section of the country, which differ wholly from its usages while here. In Louisiana and Mississippi, where, chiefly, this mode of sporting prevails, the woodcock lies during the day-time entirely in the dense canebrakes and impenetrable swamps which intersect and divide the cultivated lands and rich plantations, and wherein it would be almost impossible, and altogether weary and unprofitable to attempt to follow him; as he could hardly be killed on the wing in such covert as is there found, while the toil would be incomparably greater than the pleasure of the pursuit. No sooner is it dark, however, than out the woodcocks come by thousands, from their fastnesses, and pitching down on all sides in the old fields and maize stubbles, apply themselves to nibbling and boring in the soft rich loam for their succulent worm diet. Hereupon the fire-hunt commences. With gun and game-bag, powder-flask and shot-pouch, and all appliances and means secundum artem, the sportsman sallies forth; but no silky-haired, highstrung, sagacious setter-no satinskinned, rat-tailed, obedient pointer follows his master's heel. In lieu of Don or Sancho, an old, crafty, grizzlepated, merry negro comes forth, equipped with the brazen vessel of a warming-pan, or the like instrument, set erect on a pole of some ten or twelve feet in length, and filled with lightwood, pine knots, or such like brightburning combustibles. Arrived on the feeding-ground, a light is applied; the quick fuel sends out a broad, ruddy glare; and as the bearer slowly circumambulates the field, a circle of intense lustre is shed for ten yards around him, rendering every object more clearly visible than at noonday. The shooter walks close to the fire-bearer, on his right hand, and ever and anon, as the circular glare passes along over the surface of the ground, his eye detects the woodcock, crouching close to the earth, and gazing with its full, fascinated eye upon the strange illumination. The next instant, up it springs, dizzy and confused; and soaring upward toward the light, it is seen for a second, and then is lost in the surrounding darkness; but of that one quick second the sportsman takes advantage, and by a snap-shot cuts him down with a light charge-never killing a bird at above ten paces distant, and often bag ging his hundred in a single evening's work. This mode of cock-shooting arises, as it is evident, ex necessitate rei, and may, for a while, be sufficiently exciting. It must, however, lack all that variety which is the great charm of our northern shooting-variety which arises from the working of the emulous, obedient, and well-trained dogs, in observing whose exquisite instinct, fine attitudes and beautiful docility, me judice, lies half the pleasure of field sports; variety which, together with the lovely scenery, the brisk breezy air, and the exulting sense of personal independence and personal power, springing from these and from the glow of cheerful exercise, renders these sports, to active, energetic and enthusiastic minds, the first of pleasures, and almost a necessary relief from the dull monotony of every-day existence. The Cedars, December 22, 1845. SUNDAY SONNETS. No. I. PRAYER ASSIST me, Lord, I know not what I do- Thy spirit moved, harmonious order rose, No. II. 'Tis not to live that mortal men are born- And silent tomb, where Nature goes to mourn! The fatal seeds, that with their growth do grow Is there no other, fairer plant to spring Of leaf perennial-life-embalming fruit? Oh, take good heed-Beware there doth not cling No. III. ON THE DEATH OF REST, gentle, lovely being, rest-at last Thy anchor, firm for aye-that haven where Alike did speed thee on; for He who holds Oh, now, that thou hast reached the happy land, Look back on those whom darkness still enfolds, And breathe one more, one sympathizing prayer! No. IV. IN Heav'n, among the angels of the Lord (Thus speaks the Book whose teachings we revere,) Is joy when one poor sinner sheds the tear Of grief for sin-the tear whose bright reward Is all the bliss that God's own realms afford! And can it be, that we-vile crawling things- In lowest heart the glow of conscious worth- No. V. "Father, forgive-they know not what they do"Oh Lord! I thank Thee for that blessed prayer Which angels joyful to the throne did bear, When from thy lips, thy dying lips, it flew. Though in thy blood thy creatures did imbrue Their demon hands-though insult, outrage, scorn, Drove deeper still the piercing nail and thorn, Thy saving-love the stronger only grew. Thy sacred form on sin's hell-rooted tree- For we, too, know not how we outrage Thee. No. VI. REASON AND FAITH. Say, can tny eye the flood refulgent dare And not be hurried by the glitt'ring rush Of God's own Word, Truth's noontide glow divine! To Heaven's own vault, and grasp the starry height No. VII. Oh! it is sad to feel the impulse high Of thought divine-the burning wish to throw Of truth celestial-pages ne'er to die- Dark clouds did soon around the prospect close, No. VIII. JUDAS AND THE THIEF. What limit to Thy mercy, oh my God! The first for whom the Saviour willed to die, Of righteous vengeance brandished o'er his head, E'en deicidal treachery was not The crime that barred him from the realms of bliss- Awu Janeiro, Oct., 1845. ROBERT J. WALSH. |