Deer hunting, even down to a recent period, was a chosen amusement in Ohio. At this time the animal is only found in the great forests of the north-west counties of Paulding, Van Wart, Williams, etc., and in the heavy woods of Wyandot and Hardin counties. Sandusky Bay, an estuary of Lake Erie, and one of the most beautiful sheets of water in America, is yet a great sportsman's resort, though now chiefly for wild water-fowl, whose spring and fall season calls thither many a modern Nimrod. The writer of this has spent many a season among the marshes and overflow-lands at the head of the bay in pursuit of game which, with proper care, will continue for years to afford good gunning. Only keep out the murderous blunderbusses of certain Englishmen, which sweep away a whole flock of green-heads and canvas-backs at a shot. We have often been tempted to have arrested, as a common nuisance, these sneaking prowlers after "a shot for twenty birds—not a whit less." But it was not of birds we are to write. Sandusky Bay, in days gone by, used to afford rare sport in deer-hunting _in the water_. To illustrate: The bay is bounded on the east by a narrow strip of sand and cedars, which divides it from Lake Erie. On the north is the peninsula, another strip of rich soil, once densely covered with forests, stretching far to the west. The sport practiced in early times was to drive the deer with dogs from Cedar Point and the peninsula into the water, when they would make for the opposite shore, above the town of Sandusky. The heads of the beautiful animals could be seen a great distance, as they glided along the surface of the clear waters. Then boats would put out, in each of which was a dog—no guns being allowed—the men being armed only with a knife. The deer always would scent the danger from afar, and, with extraordinary celerity, move off up the bay, followed by the boats. When a comparatively near approach was at length made, after hard pulling for two or three miles, the dogs were let loose. Being fresh, and the deer somewhat exhausted from their long swim, the dogs would gain on their prey rapidly, and soon the struggle in the water would commence—the noble bucks always receiving their enemy, while the ewes and fawns were kept out of harm's reach. The bucks were, if not too much exhausted, quite a match for the dogs. Not unfrequently their antlers would crimson the water with the blood of their canine foe. The boats, meanwhile, were but spectators of the contest, and only came up when their dogs showed signs of defeat. A good dog, however, generally succeeded in fastening to the throat of his prey, and there clung with such tenacity as to sink and rise with the buck, avoiding the terrific strokes of its hoofs by laying close to the deer's body. One blow of a fore-hoof has been known to smash the skull of a mastiff. The sport, to those in the boats, is exciting in the extreme; but strict honor used to govern the combats.