NO. I.

Breakfast was soon over, when we started out. It was a fine morning. The sun's rays lighted the valleys and mountains. The autumn leaves were a golden brown. Oh, what a beautiful picture, here where Nature is supreme, and not a hand to mar the scenery! The tall, gray rocks added to the beauty. As we climbed up the mountain our thoughts went back to the ages and ages it took to build up this country. Here was a country within a radius of forty miles with only a few Indian cabins scattered ten or fifteen miles apart.

Soon we heard the report of a rifle, and then the glad notes of a horn. We hastened in the direction from which the report came, and found that Brother Carson

NO. 2.

had killed the first deer. We took off our hats to Brother Carson.

The second day Brother Brocchus killed a deer. On the fourth day he killed the largest buck that any member of the club had ever seen.

Picture No. 1 shows Brothers Brocchus and Carson, with the large buck between them. Brother Brocchus is telling how it was killed. Brothers Brocchus and Carson are called the two scouts Buffalo Bill and Kit Carson. They are both fine shots, and a deer seldom gets away from either if they get a shot at it.

Picture No. 2 shows Brother Van Horn and myself bringing a deer into camp. Brother Van Horn is in front.

Picture No. 3 shows two deer and a

turkey killed by Brother Brocchus. The larger deer in the picture is the one spoken of above. It weighed two hundred and fifty pounds and had fourteen points. Picture No. 4 shows the club at dinner, and picture No. 5 shows us at a social game of high-five.

Brother Brocchus, as usual, carried off the honor of killing the most game, with Brother Carson second. Brother Kirkbride, Brother Brocchus and Mr. Boss killed the same number of turkeys. Each one had good luck, and all said that enough had been killed long before our stay was up. We are not "game hogs," and do not wish to destroy more than we can eat.

A few incidents occurred while on our

hunt that caused quite a lot of joking afterwards, but did not look so funny at the time. While Brothers Moore, Van Horn and myself were hunting in a thicket, Brother Moore came upon a large panther. The panther was about fifty feet from Brother Moore, and it ran out past Brother Van Horn. We gave it two loads of buckshot, but they did not stop it. We asked Brother Moore why he did not shoot it. He said: "I, doggy, I was shaking so I could not hold my gun still!" One day Brothers Kirkbride and Van Horn were hunting up the side of a rough canyon, when Brother Kirkbride saw a panther lying on a rock just above him. He made a hasty retreat to where Brother Van Horn was. Here they were found a few minutes afterwards by two other members of the club. When asked why he did not shoot the panther, Brother Kirkbride said that he did not know; that he was not scared, but only felt uneasy

NO. 5.

about the safety of Brother Van Horn. Another time, Brother Moore killed a fine deer. When he started to where the deer was lying he jumped two more and stopped to shoot at them. He crippled one and followed it about half a mile, when he saw a panther after it. He went back after the deer he had killed, but could not find it. He said he was not scared at all. Of course not!

While hunting on the top of a mountain with Brother Van Horn, we heard something making a noise-breaking twigs and bushes.. On investigating, we found evidence of Mr. Bruin. From the size of the footprints in the soft ground, we decided that he was no small one. We held a hasty consultation to decide what we had better do. Brother Van Horn said that he thought we had better let him go, for if we did kill him we could not get him to camp, and we were not looking for bear; in fact, we had not lost any. Just then we heard four rapid shots fired in the canyon below us, and then the welcome sound of Brother Brocchus's horn. I said that Brother Brocchus had killed the bear. Brother Van Horn started down the side of the mountain at a 2:30 gait. I told him not to go so fast, as there might be more than one bear, and it might come back our way. The manner in which Brother Van Horn got behind a tree showed that he was something of an athlete. After a short wait we went on down to where Brother Brocchus was, and found that he had killed a fine deer.

Our ten days were soon up, and the teams came to take us back. We could not help regretting that our hunt was over for 1904. As we left our camping grounds we looked back and saw a little blue smoke rising through the trees. We fired a salute and joined in singing, "Tenting On the Old Camp Ground."

We arrived home and returned to our runs, feeling much benefitted by our outing. All agreed that we had had the most successful hunt we had ever taken.

GEORGE DANIELS, C. E., Div. 445.

After Big Game.

EDITOR JOURNAL: On the morning of November 29 I left Denison to join a hunting party for our annual outing, arriving at San Antonio in due season, where I was met by the famous hunters, Brothers R. E. Nave, Jas. Senn, and L. E. Mays, of Div. 197, and W. B. Dial and George Wright, members of Lodge 145, B. of L. F., of San Antonio, that fair city of the South.

We bade farewell to San Antonio and its memories at 9 A. M., December 2, taking the Sunset Limited for our camp

BROS. MAYS, NAVE AND SENN WITH THE FIRST DEER.

-six of the best equipped and happiest hunters on the green earth. We had a full supply of the latest improved fishing tackle and traps, while a finer lot of guns was never seen in any camp. There were Savage rifles, pump-guns, and 22 target guns for shooting squirrel and small game and for target practice. In addition to all this we had left all the apron strings behind us, we had no more sick men to sit up with, no more goats to ride, no more door mats, millinery bills, or chores, and our wives would split the kindling. We arrived at Uvalde, 100 miles west of San Antonio, at noon, and were met by a Mexican who was to take us to camp by wagon, and traveled southwest in the direction of Old Mexico. On the third day we arrived at our camping place, and selected a beautiful spot in a grove of live oaks on the banks of the Nueces, and this time we had a kodak with us. However, none of us were expert enough to get a point of view of the beautiful

MEXICAN GUIDE AND BRO. NAVR WITH TURKEY, AND BRO. L. B. MAYS.

scenery, and were compelled to stick to the subject we were most interested in, viz.-the hunters and their game.

We put up our tent and got everything in place before dark, and a fine supper was soon spread before us, for we were well supplied with the choicest eatables afforded in the San Antonio market. After a good night's sleep and an early breakfast, each shouldered his gun and set forth in different directions to look for game. Some climbed the mountains, while others went down the valley, and after walking and watching for hours, tired out, hungry, disappointed and in most angelic humor with ourselves and the whole world, which suddenly took on a blue and hazy appearance, each tramped back to camp hoping that the "other fellow" had done better, yet ashamed to be outdone. When I arrived at camp all were in but Brother Nave, and as it was

getting late I was a little uneasy about him remembering his little conversation last year with a Havilena hog, but the boys said not to worry for if he found a deer trail he would follow it to Mexico, and while we were thinking of firing a signal to him to guide him home if lost, Brother Nave came in sight walking slowly through the brush and cactus. He sent the Mexican back to get a buck he had left some two miles away and horse and rider soon disappeared. Only a short time elapsed, however, before his return with the deer, and we had some of it for our supper. It was one of the finest specimens I ever saw and we could hardly wait until next morning to try our luck again. All this homesick feeling was gone and we awoke in the morning with faith in ourselves, our prospects and our guns. Sure enough we had a good day's sport and brought in all sorts of game except turkey.

So far Brother Nave would only hunt with his Savage rifle, but that meant large game, and as one of the boys said he thought turkey would be good for a change, Brother Nave said he would go out and kill one for him and made good his promise in a very few minutes. I secured a snapshot before he unloaded it.

Brother Senn was down on his luck during the whole hunt and we could not understand it at all until we found that there was a woman at the bottom of it and Brother Senn had himself been pierced through the heart by Dan Cupid's dart, and was to be married shortly after his return to San Antonio. Every time he looked down the gun barrel he could see instead of the eyes of a deer, the dear eyes of his true love; when he listened for the woodland sounds of rabbit or squirrel the music of his sweetheart's voice drowned out even the song of the nightingale; and in the smoke of his pipe

BROS. MAYS, NAVE AND SENN PLANNING AFTERNOON HUNT.

there arose before his eyes a fairy face and the figure of a woman who haunts his waking dreams. Brother Senn was rather slow company, but his appetite, strange to say, was strictly on time.

We enjoyed many hours spent with rod and reel, for the fish were plentiful and easy to catch. The Nueces at this point is deep, the water clear as crystal, so that all kinds of fish could be seen under eight or ten feet of water in great numbers.

L. E. Mays landed the first fine trout and Brother Dial killed a Mexican hog and I am indebted to him for the skin which I am now having dressed for a rug. I am very proud of this one as he took off the skin after dark, and they make beautiful rugs. Brother Dial is an expert rifle shot and a very fine cook. I had prided myself on being the finest cook in camp, but on this trip I was compelled to yield that honor to him. Brother George Wright was our

I 20.

121

One box of fruit and two comforts from Div. 20, L. A. to O. R. C.

Two quilts. Sender unknown. Thirteen towels and one spread from Div. 163, L. A. to O. R. C.

Two packages of books from Brother Williams, of Lodge 375, B. of R. T.

Sack of oranges from Brother Gannon, of Lodge 4, B. of R. T.

One case of Lash's Bitters, from Lash Bitters Co., of Chicago, Ill.

Box of Books from Div. 22, G. I. A.

JOHN O'KEEFE, Sec. & Treas.

BY GEORGE COOPER.

Oh, March is a rollicking boy,
Of bluster and din he ne'er tires;
He shouts in his infinite joy-

To all sorts of fun he aspires;
He rattles the windows and doors,
He whistles o'er forest and lea:
The chimney and roof he explores,
For a mischievous fellow is he!
Now April's a shy, lovely girl,

Who timidly wanders along,
And golden, with sun, is each curl,

And wakes in her heart a sweet song.
Though oft she grows pensive and sad,
And tears on her cheek we may see,
Ah, look! in a twinkle she's glad!
Oh, a bonnie, wee lassie is she!
But May is a beautiful maid,

Who sings with the birds and the rills;
She roams over meadow and glade,

Her smile lights the valleys and hills.
With glances so winning and true,
With step that is gladsome and free,
And eyes of the bonniest blue-

Oh! the Spring's peerless daughter is she!
The Value of Books.

In an address at the opening of a village public library, Hon. John Morley, the

eminent English statesman, said he was not so foolish as to claim that books were the only education.

Work was an education, politics were an education, and the divinest of all arts, music, was an element and an agency in education.

But, after all, without free access to books and without some knowledge of how to handle and use books, education must be a narrow and mutilated and imperfect process.

In his time he had to perambulate in England among what were called the middle class, and he was constantly appalled at the shocking trumpery that he found on the shelves of those who were kind enough to entertain him on those occasions.

Every one talked of Shakespeare, Milton, Bacon, and so forth, but he wondered how many copies of Shakespeare, of Milton, or of Bacon's essays they would find in people's houses.

Then he asked himself, by the way, how many in that room, if they were told they could not leave till they had pointed out what in their view were the great passages in Shakespeare, or the great lines in Milton, or the great words of wisdom from Bacon, would ever get out of the room.

He was not at all confident that there would be many.

Everybody who was able to possess anything beyond bread and cheese and clothing ought to possess three or four or five books, and they would be surprised, he thought, how very slim the volume would be which contained the gems and the pure gold of literature.

It was a great mistake to think that they could not enter into the treasures of literature unless they possessed a large library.

Poetry was not a taste which came to every one, but he who was not stirred by it led but a mutilated existence.

If a man asked him what poet he should begin with he would say Byron. While not the greatest of poets, Byron had got daring and energy and the historic sense, and it must be remembered that early in