hear our whistles, but to settle down for a long journey along the shore. Suddenly, as they get almost by our box, they hesitate, waver, the right wings go up in the air, and they wheel around; they see our decoys evidently feeding peacefully upon the sand, and a moment later, four big beetle-heads turn, throw their big breasts up to the wind, and prepare to settle down for a feed; the companionship of so many good fellows as we have before us is not to be resisted. Some movement in the box, however, perhaps the too incautious. raising of a head, or the shifting of a gun barrel, attracts their attention, and with a quick flirt of the wing, they are off again with double the speed they seemed to be moving at before. But it was too late. Bang, bang, went the right barrels of two guns, and down came two "beetleheads."

The other two rose as they heard the shot, and spurted forward again at even accelerated speed. One of them got away: the other fell to the left barrel of one of the guns, and considering that we had been in the box scarce fifteen minutes, we felt that our foundation for a fat bag was a rattling good one.

Further away, down the shore, we heard the sound of other guns, and we wondered if our number four beetle-head had got away. While we were thus speculating, down came a big flock of "sanderlings," evidently scared up by the guns below us, and as they passed our box, we dropped just six out of the flock. A few moments later a flock of full forty "peep" came sailing up along the north shore. Ordinarily, "peep" are not considered satisfactory game, but when so large a flock passes, the inclination to determine just what degree of execution one is capable of is irresistible, and we poured four barrels into the flock. Even though the range is a long one-quite forty-five or fifty yards-we bring a round dozen of "peep" to ground.

Now comes a little lull; for fully

fifteen or twenty minutes there is not a wing in sight, and we wonder if the cannonading in which we have been indulging has not scared off all the birds along shore. Just as we have about decided that such is the case, two long-legged "willets" swing around the little point of sand that has been created by the incoming tide. They see our decoys, and without any indication from us that we are looking for them, they come straight up to the decoys. When just over our heads they throw their breasts up to the wind and their long legs prepare to settle on the sand. "The foolishest birds that fly along these shores," comes to my ears and mingles with the bang, bang, of our right barrels, as a brace of "willets" fall to our credit.

And thus the sport is kept up until the tide reaches our box, when we both jump out ankle-deep in the salt water, pick up our decoys, shoulder our guns, and taking our birds, repair to the blind at the edge of the sand dune, knowing that the tide will be up with us in a very few moments. Soon the water is bubbling about the sticks of our decoys, twenty yards from our blind, and being at its highest mark, the birds are fairly ravenous for the tid-bits that are to be found at this stage of the tide. In flocks they range up and down the edge of the water; the big birds, a bit more wary, fly higher and are harder to get, but they are the ones we want, so we let flock after flock of " peep" go by, and although occasionally bringing down the fat birds out of a flock of "sanderlings," we really keep our eyes upon those that we want-big, full-breasted fellows, that amount to something when their feathers are off and they are lying upon a broiler. For almost an hour we have all the shooting we want; then the tide begins to recede, and the flight of the birds grows less and less, until finally the edge of the water has taken them out of range, and we begin to string our birds for the return.

Away up along the beach come other sportsmen, their guns over their shoulders, and big strings of birds fastened to their belts, all jolly and good-natured. and all well satisfied with the day's sport. As the occupants of the far-distant boxes come along, they pick up the occupants of other boxes en route, until, when box No. 3 is reached, there is a round. dozen good fellows, each and every one of them the embodiment of good-fellowship, and all possessed of appetites that would simply paralyze with astonishment any one but so good a housewife as Mrs. Gould. On

a day's shooting, it is difficult to tell, but the aggregate bags will foot up anywhere from one hundred and twenty to two hundred and twenty birds. This is considered a really good day's shooting, although many a day has resulted in even better figures than this. An hour later, with shooting togs off, and clad in the most comfortable negligé costumes that one can provide for an evening on the piazzas and the beach, anywhere from a dozen to a score of hungry sportsmen have seated themselves at the table which, they are satisfied, beyond all question, will

over the flats we trudge, then into the softer sand of the dunes, and finally we reach the piazzas of the little hotel, and file through the door into the gun-room. Here our guns are deposited in the racks, and fifteen minutes later Natty is giving them a good cleaning, and an oil-bath, which prevents the salt air from rusting them. Then down into his game-bags goes each sportsman, and in a few moments there is a royal pile of birds on the big shelf above the gun rack.

How many species of shore birds are represented in the result of such

yield them a meal as well cooked as it is wholesome and refreshing.

Although there are no stimulants sold at the hotel, there is no lack of them there, for visiting sportsmen, at least those possessed of a sufficiently large bump of caution to provide for wants of this kind, send down by express, their cases of beer, claret, and Scotch, Irish and American whiskies, and it may be said right here, that nothing is more invigorating after several hours of good hard shooting on the beach and the walk down and back, than a drop

of "Scotch," or more refreshing than a good cold glass of iced claret or cool beer with the delightful meals which Mrs. Gould provides. After supper, hammocks and easy chairs are filled with sportsmen recounting the satisfactory shots and the lost opportunities of the day. The spirit of goodfellowship seems to penetrate every quarter of the hotel; men who have never before met, chat together as though they had been boon companions for years. There is no restraint: there is no side effected; and there is no offense taken at whatever good-natured jokes may be indulged in at the expense of the other fellow. Should the night be stormy or cold, the piazzas are deserted, but the smoking room which. Captain Gould wisely provided when he built the hotel, is filled with the same good fellows, and through the tobacco smoke and the clink of glasses, stories of the day are told with as much zest as on the night before upon the piazzas.

The hotel is rarely without its complement of ladies. Many sportsmen coming down for a bit of shooting at the beach, bring their wives or sisters with them, and among the ladies are some excellent shots. They seem to enjoy the sport fully as much as their husbands and brothers, and really the only portion of the sport they miss is in the telling of it, when the gun-room is the place of assembly.

Before midnight, the lights of the little hotel have ceased to burn, tired sportsmen are enjoying a muchneeded and refreshing slumber, for with daybreak on the morrow, they will be up and down upon the flats to catch the early tide, returning for breakfast after the ebb, as hungry as they were the night before. At ten o'clock, when the tide had reached the extreme low water-mark, a bath in the magnificent surf was another of the good things to be enjoyed at Chatham, and is a greater appetizer, with no bad effects, than all the cocktails in Christendom. Within two hours after

dinner, guns are again shouldered, and another afternoon of sport is entered upon.

Thus one enjoys life at this faraway spot on the south end of Cape Cod. There, shore bird shooting is perhaps as fine as one will find anywhere in the country, and as we have said, the accommodations and the good cheer at the hotel are all that one could possibly desire, and a great deal more than one would expect to find.

Occasionally a bit of diversion from the ordinary style of shooting is afforded by the foxes which come over from the mainland in search of fish and wounded birds. Before the shore bird shooting commenced, it was a rare thing to see foxes upon the flats. At this season, however, with so much shooting going on, there are bound to be a greater or less number of birds who have died "out of bounds," and these afford a fat living for reynard.

They are consequently attracted to quite a number, and not infrequently afford good sport for visiting sports

men.

In the early Spring, about Chatham, the black duck and brant shooting is fine, and some great stories are told by the sportsmen who have enjoyed it.

In the Fall, when ice begins to form and lock up Chatham harbor in its glacial embrace, "coot "shooting is enjoyed by the same sportsmen who go down for shore birds in the Summer, and great sport it is, if one is ambitious to make big bags. Altogether, Chatham will afford as much sport as many months in the year as one will find in any like area anywhere else that the writer has ever been, and if you want brant, shore bird or coot shooting, drop a line just in advance of the season to Captain Nat. E. Gould, and you will get your information first, your cheery welcome at the hotel next, and, my word for it, plenty of shooting afterwards, to say nothing of a rattling good endorsement from "Natty," if you shoot well.

the sacrifice of field qualities, by the early breeders, was likely to prove the ruin of the red dog for practical purposes. To be sure, some wonderfully beautiful animals were produced, but it is generally admitted that while the physical standard was wonderfully improved, the lack of field use, and consideration of field qualities in breeding, very nearly sounded the doom of the Irish setter as a hunting dog. During later years, however, this tendency has been vigorously combated, and as the hunting instinct had only lain dormant, more recent breeders have taken means to develop it, and have the earliest breeders to thank for having raised the present physical standard to such a high degree, which, though generally condemned, can only recommend itself as a blessing in disguise to the intelligent and thinking breeder and sportsman.

The infusion of new blood and an abundance of practical field work. has awakened the instinct so long neglected, and has improved the formerly headstrong tendency of the breed, so that now he is trained and kept in condition for the field as easily as his much lauded brother, the English setter, whose performances in field trials, while giving to the English dog a reputation for speed and a general advertisement, appeal to the practical hunter as absurd. Indeed, those who have witnessed the performances of not a few high class English setter field trial winners, are only impressed with their utter unfitness for general shooting purposes, though wonders at ranging for a short time with unnatural speed and generally without regard to the handler.

The Irish setter of to-day is by no means a slow dog afield. He is a wide ranger, but he adopts a pace and style of hunting that makes him generally useful, and as a rule is. able to do as much work and find as many birds in a week, being hunted. continuously, as half a dozen Eng

lish setters or pointers taken out, one at a time, quite fresh. This is mainly due to his wonderful endurance. It is true also that the lon

gevity of the Irish setter is greater than that of any breed of hunting dog, and his hunting instinct, faculties and endurance are retained to a greater age than almost any species. of the canine family. Several famous dogs of this breed have lived from sixteen to seventeen years: notably the great champions, Berkley and Rory O'More, and the writer has hunted continuously for several days. behind a brace of Irish setters, one of which was ten and the other nearly twelve years of age, both going at a reasonably fast gait, finding with. few faults, and pointing and backing each other with precision and style.

The origin of the Irish setter is enveloped somewhat in mystery. Many theories have been advanced which can at the best be classed as a mere surmise. The most reasonable of these is that the original Irish setter was the result of the judicious crossing of the red spaniel (now extinct) with the bloodhound. It is true that certain skull formations of the Irish setter resemble that of the bloodhound more closely than any other variety of dog. That all varieties of setters are originated from the earlier types of spaniels (so called from the fact that they were first known in Spain) is an accepted fact, as the two breeds, even to this day, are somewhat allied in characteristic formation. The development of the Irish setter, of which more is known, is very interesting, as it was done almost exclusively by the nobility of Ireland, and in several generations of such families we find a record to the effect that the breed was jealously guarded against innovation or contamination. Youatt, in his book. of the dog, one of the first scientific works upon the subject, though now recognized as an authority only in its bearing on the earlier history of the dog, says of the setter: