FOREST AND STREAM. 



527 



dertuken solely to avoid the cold of winter- At, present, 



tbc, it is very generally believed that the food sup 

 in the main the governin; 



Tho periodical movements of Hie various birds which visit 

 us are to be classed under two distinct heads i the regular 

 migrations and the accidental ones. With regard to the 

 former "we are more or less wall informed, of the latter we 

 know little or nothing. 



Many of our birds are extremely regular in their times of 

 arrival in spring, but the autumnal movement toward tho 

 south is usually more uncertain, and extends over 

 time. Tho birds seem loath to leave us, and many, even of 

 the more delicate species, linger with us until late in the falL 

 At length, however, comes a keen frost which nips them 

 Bharply, or a snow flurry, warning them to delay no longer, 

 nnd then, as if feeliDg that they have trespassed on the good 

 nature of the weather as long as they dare, the word is passed 

 along the line sauve qui pent, and they arc off. When next 

 you walk abroad you will find in the fields and hedgerows 

 only the tree sparrow and the black cap ; in the woodland 

 and cedar thicket only the ringlet and the jay. Silence, 

 where but a short time since had been heard the chirping 

 and rustling of a hundred busy and eager feeders, unbroken 

 now save by the Bhrill scream of the red-tailed hawk or the 

 clamorous cawing of a clan of crows. 



The practiced collector knows well just when each species 

 among the regular migrants may be expected, and holds him- 

 self in readiness at the appointed time. Stress of weather 

 may delay the oncoming host for a day or two, scarcely 

 longer. It is different with the second class, the accidental 

 migrants. They are like the proverbial and scriptural insect. 

 They are here to-day and away, no one knows how far, to- 

 morrow. There is no dependence whatever to be placed on 

 them, and often no cause can be assigned for their presence 

 in certain districts. 



In a veiy important article on the "Distribution and migra- 

 tion of North American Birds," published in the American 

 Journal of Science and Art, in 1800, Prof. 8. F. Baird brings 

 forward some extremely interesting facts which we shall pre- 

 sent to our readers in a future number of Fobbst attd Stream 

 in continuing our remarks upon this subject. These reflec- 

 tions have been called up by the perusal of the very attractive 

 work of M. A. de Bowan's on La Migration dea Oiseaux, in 

 which the author gives a very entertaining account of many 

 of the more important migratory birds of France. He divides 

 them, somewhat arbitrarily, into migrators from the south- 

 west, south and southeast, and describes very pleasantly the 

 habits of each species, closing with a delightful chapter on 

 general migration and the use and protection of birds. The 

 hook is written for the sportsman rather than the ornith olo- 

 gist and we can recommend the lesson which it teaches 

 to all. 



Honors Latb and Eably.— The morning papers last 

 Saturday contained two brief news items which however 

 diverse in subject have something of a moral in common. 

 One announced the fact that tho New Jersey Historical Socie- 

 ty having formally expressed its faith that the bones in the 

 Cathedral Church of St. Domingo are the veritable relics of 

 Christopher Columbus, makes known its determination to 

 bring before the American historical societies and before 

 Congress the belief of the Society—" that the discoverer of 

 the Western World is worthy of a monument suitable to his 

 greatness and the expression of the gratitude of a Christian 

 continent, and that such monument should bo built by the 

 joint contributions of the republics of the Western Conti- 

 nent." 



Yes, give him a monument. He is worthy of it. Much 

 good may it do him. We have our misgivings— and possibly 

 we should keep them to ourselves ; they are ill-natured — that 

 Columbus cares very little now whether these wise men who 

 have sat in solemn conclave over his musty old bones see fit 

 to give him a monument or not. If the wise men some hun- 

 dreds of years ago had done him honor when he was alive, 

 that would have been more to the purpose. No memorial in 

 bronze or marble can ever heal the heart wounds of the dun- 

 geon and the chains. The praise of after generations is of 

 little avail in righting the ingratitude of one's own age. De 

 morkbati nil nisi bonum, is all well enough ; but of the living 

 anything and everything. It would make an old time cynic 

 laugh to see the Nineteenth Century newspaper vituperation, 

 abuse and slander heaped upon author and statesman sudden- 

 ly change to f ulsome praise and adulation when the cable 

 brings the message of death. We could name a score of men 

 who have died within as many months whose virtues have 

 become known and acknowledged only after they have ceased 

 to exercise them. " Death hath this also," says Bacon, "that 

 it openeth the gate to good fame, and extinguisheth envy." 

 And it is all one — the monument after the lapse of centuries, 

 and the newspaper eulogies which we read in the street cars 

 as the hearse passes by. Each is tardy. 



That the Government has finally, as our other newspaper 

 item announces, awarded some public mark of esteem to 

 Ida Lewis the heroine of the Lime Bock Light is Something 

 more to the point. Those who read years ago of the heroism 

 of our American Grace Darling will learn with pleasure that 

 she has been advanced to the position of keeper of the Lime 

 Kock Light at Newport, the post being assigned to her by 

 Secretary Sherman "as a mark of appreciation for your 

 noble and heroic efforts in saving human lives." The reward 

 is late in its coming but it is nevertheless vastly better than 

 tc have waited a hundred years for a paltry marble tablet. 



TriE Pkinobton Rots at Trenton.— The rrinceton stu- 

 dents have again been accorded an unenviable newspaper 

 notoriety. This lime it is all about a meny sleigh ride down 

 to Trenton. Arrived there, the Saturday-evening pleasure- 

 seekers were too boisterous in their mirth to suit the staid 

 opinions of the policemen. The whole party were nabbed by 

 the knights of the club, tried before (he justice who, being 

 roused from his slumbers, was naturally out of humor, and 

 sent home with light pockets, but, let ub hope, with not very 

 heavy hearts. Now all this was the most natural thing in 

 the world. There was never any love lost between the col- 

 legian and the pillar of the local law. Tho former is too full 

 of good-natured and thoughtless mischief to neglect any op- 

 portunity of aggravaling his uniformed foe, and the con- 

 stables, or "peelers," as the case may be, are always in spirit, 

 if not in reality, "jugging" "them college fellers." Just 

 what was actually done at Trenton it is impossible to judge 

 even approximately, simply because the sensation scenting 

 reporters and newspaper men hnve so rnisreprensented and 

 falsi tied the actual facts. It is this which induces us to notice 

 the occurrence. A bit of really harmless and unimportant 

 college boys' adventure has been heralded throughout the 

 land as a disgraceful escapade in which tho students are re- 

 presented as profane ruffians and blackguards. We know 

 none of the parties implicated, but we do know enough of 

 college students to warrant the assertion that the papers 

 which have published tho story from the standpoint of the 

 Trenton officers, eager to be interviewed and equally eager to 

 malign the boys, have erred. To represent the Princeton 

 men as ruffians may make spicy reading in the police news 

 sensations of the press, but it is wholly contrary to truth and 

 fairness. Collegians are gentlemen. 



—We record to-day the death of Mr. Silas Arnold, of Kees- 

 ville, N. Y., who died on the 24th inst. For nearly thirty 

 years he has been a constant visitor at the Adirondacks, and 

 not only highly esteemed by his brother anglers there, but 

 also at his place of residence by all who knew him. He was 

 a true type of the old school gentlemen. 



[from otju own cobrespondbnt.J 



THE TROPICAL WANDERINGS OF 



FRED BEVERLY. 



Cruihtng for Crustaceans. 



JEAN BAPTISTE came in one day with a bunch Of 

 "grives," or large thrushes, which are excellent eating 

 and desirable specimens. At my request he went down into 

 tho woods and showed me the tree on which, morning and 

 afternoon, they could be found feeding. It was then noon, 

 and I could not find any ; but next morning I started out with 

 the intention of bagging a few. Heavy showers came down 

 every half hour, but I donned my rubber poncho, and waded 

 on through the wet forest with my gun securely covered. 

 My course lay down the south ravine. On the hill to the 

 right is a tall figuier tree, tho fruit of which is liked by the 

 birds. This fruit resembles in shape, size and color, a cran- 

 berry, and is attached to the twigs in clusters of two and 

 three. 



Now, I could have sworn to the exact position of that 

 tree ; yet, having tramped doggedly through the rain for more 

 than half an hour without seeing any familiar tree or shrub, 

 I began to look about me sharply. Though 1 had noted the 

 direction in my mind's eye when J. B. had shown me the 

 tree, I overshot it in my search and got further down. A 

 group of tree ferns I remembered ; farther on, across a brook, 

 was a large rock — all right ; but where was the ants' nest in 

 a dead tree that I had especially noted? To understand why 

 all my landmarks were small and insignificant, the reader 

 must be informed that in these woods the trees were so large 

 and shoot up so high that their crowns afford no means of 

 identifying them ; and all their trunks are so much alike, en- 

 veloped in masses of vines and ferns, that other objects must 

 be chosen to guide the hunter in his rambles here. Under 

 thick foliage, until the roar of the large waterfall came up to 

 me, and I knew I must retrace my steps, as the tree was on 

 the ridge between the two streams. 



At once I was stopped by seeing on the ground before me 

 scattered shreds of figuier fruit, and looking up, saw the tree 

 above me. A3 I had approached from tho opposite side to 

 that of my first visit, its surroundings had seemed changed. 

 The rain came down in torrents, but glanced harmlessly from 

 my poncho. It was tiresome waiting, but I secured all I want- 

 ed of the grives and went back to the main trail leading to 

 the Boiling Lake and sat down on a rock in a more open part 

 of the forest to try to secure a few hummmg-birds. 



The rain had ceased, and the sun was shining outside. 

 Yielding to tho overpowering influence of silence and soli- 

 tude, I was indulging in a day dream, when a voice awoke 

 me: 



"Bon jour, Monsieur Fred 1" 



I looked up, and saw two brown-skinned maidens. One 

 was a little mulattress, about ten years old ; the other was 

 Marie — light-haired, sunny Marie — in whose veins (lowed the 

 blood of three races. Tho blood of tho African showed in 

 her wavy hair and full lips, and told what was the original 

 stock with which that of the Carib was ming'ed ; and the 

 blood of the jovial Frenchman who had wandered to these 

 wilds years and years ago, gave that roundness and supple- 

 ness of limb, the quick, merry eye, tho oval cheek and littlo 

 hands and feet— all combined to form a creation fit to beectr.y 

 the mother of n new race. 



" Bon jnu.r, Mademoiselle Marie ; where are you going?" 



" Pour cherciier pour lea ecreohse "—To look for crayfish. 



Crayfish! Why, just what I wanted ; for I had promised 

 one of the professors in Washington to make collections of 

 these very animals. I glanced up through a hole in tho leafy 

 roof above me and judged it was about ten o'clock, unless the 

 sun's rays were refracted in coming through. 



" Have you anything for me to eat, Marie ?" 

 | "Yes, Monsieur." 

 ! " Then 1 will go with you." 



" It gives mo much plaisir, Monsieur." 



"Well, lead the way." 



Beader, if you look in a work on natural history for infor- 

 mation regarding the crayfish, you will find it there given as 

 a "long-tailed decapod;" and, pursuing the subject still 

 farther, you will see that it is also crustacean— a "deca- 

 pod crustacean." And thus fyou might follow tho author 

 up to the branch, articulata, and back again through all i(s 

 divisions and ramifications, and about all you will know about 

 it will be that it is a long-tailed decapod and inhabits fresh 

 water streams. Long-tailed decapod, forsooth ! 



Come with me, reader, and I will show you more of cray- 

 fish and their ways than you can learn in a week of books. 

 Follow in my wake, or, as tho path is slippery, take good 

 hold of my hand. Marie won't mind you ; she don't mind 

 anybody. The way leads up hill and over rocks, wet and 

 smooth, for perhaps a mile. Don't mind tho wet leaves that 

 continually flap in your face, nor the vines and creeping 

 ferns that vex your feet. Take a good grip and come along. 

 In the language of the immortal bard (who, by the way, never 

 knew of crayfish like these), "I prithee, let mo bring thee 

 where crabs grow." 



We may have completed a mile, when Marie stopped: 

 "Stay there, Monsieur." I staid there while she went behind 

 a large rock and removed her shoes. Then I was allowed to 

 follow on until the path was left and we entered the deeper 

 woods to descend to the river. Opposite another huge rock 

 she stopped again. "Wait there, Monsieur." Behind this 

 rock she darted with her little companion, and shortly reap- 

 peared. Satyrs and wood nymphs 1 I thought these girls 

 about as thinly clad as possible to be when they disappeared 

 behind the rock, but I declare, in all seriousness, they had 

 left a large bundle of clothes behind. 



What a mysterious combination is woman ! And there 

 they stood, laughing and blushing, in a single dress, each 

 loosely gathered at the shoulders, and at the waist by a gird le. 

 This was becoming serious. If there were any more rocks in 

 our path I felt morally certain they could dodge behind them 

 And theu how would they appear ? It was very certain they 

 could not take off much more. My hair began to bristle. 

 What would people say? What would my Sunday-school 

 teacher say ? I was resolved to stop it at all hazards. 



" Look hero, Marie !" 



"Yes, Monsieur." 



" Don't do that any more." 



"What, Monsieur?" 



" Don't go behind any more rocks ; don't;take off any more 

 garments." I blushed all over at the thought of it. 



" Why no, Monsieur ; it is impossible." 



No amount of italicizing or exclamation points can render 

 the astonishment in her tone as she thus assured me ; and feel- 

 ing I could then safely proceed, I gave the order to go on. 

 Wo reached the river— the stream that flows out of the 

 mountain lake — broad and with gravelly beach, with immense 

 boulders as islands, and a wall of vegetation on either side 

 that rose straight up a hundred feet. Here my guides left me 

 to my own devices and waded into the stream in search of 

 ciay-fish. I saw a bird I ha d not seen before and pursued fy 

 along the shore until sto pp ed by a cascade. It was within 

 shot, however, and at the re port of my gun it fell into a little 

 pool. The rocks were smooth as glass, and my great boots, 

 though good protection from tho vines and thorns, were but 

 poor aids in clambering over these rocks. The result was 

 that I unexpectedly sat down upon a rock, and very suddenly 

 I came down, too. There was a stream of water rushing over 

 that rock six inches in depth, so that my fall did not hurt me; 

 but the rapid-flowing sheet struck my back with great force, 

 and climbed up over my coat collar so rapidly that I was 

 immediately as bloated as a bull-frog. The rain had long ago 

 drenched me, but, though wet before, I did not care to get 

 wot behind. 



My half smothered yells brought Marie to my assistance, 

 and she rescued me and the bird, and then suggested I could 

 wade better with my boots off. Happy thought ! The boots 

 were removed. I need not detail, to any one who has had the 

 experience, the pleasure of wading barefoot over stones and 

 rocks for the first time in years. A little torture was enough 

 for me, and in half an hour I was seated quietly drying in the 

 sun, watching the girls at their work. The stream was 

 broad, with deep pools, and it was in these pools the crayfish 

 lurked, looking like miniaturej^lobsters through tho clear 

 water. I could only see tho small ones, but Mario assured me 

 there were large ones out of sight beneath the cascades. I 

 was glad of that, for several severe nips from these small ones 

 had given me enough of crayfish, and I did not c;ire whether 

 my friends in America ever got a specimen. 



Erect upon tho rock she stood a moment, th on plunged 

 head- foremost into a foaming pool, disappearing from sight. 

 A moment later, rising bubbles preceded a round little head 

 from which hung long, limp tresse3 ; a pair of shoulders brown 

 and bare, and round arms reaching out little hands for a sup- 

 port. She had a cray-ftsh in each hand, and another, with wrig^ 



