224 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Armr 21, 18811 



fish, Spanish mackerel and many other fishes equally valuable. 

 The fact, as developed by the inquiries instituted by the 

 United States Fish Commission, is that tile blnefish is in- 

 creasing in numbers notwithstanding the enormous yearly 

 captures, and that it is in no danger of extermination, nor 

 even of diminution. It may seem odd to some of our readers 

 that Fcuiest and Stkeam should look with disfavor upon a 

 clause which proposes to protect a valuable fish, for our voice 

 is usually for protection to all such, but the bluefish is a pe- 

 culiar fish. It came as a stranger to our shores about fifty 

 years ago, and after a year or two of trial took its place as 

 one of our finest table-fishes ; and not only did it establish it- 

 self here, but it has steadily iucreased in numbers at the ex- 

 pense of other fishes, which are decreasing, until it is an open 

 question if it would be a loss to our food resources if the blue- 

 fish should depart forever, for then other fishes, relieved from 

 the presence of this ichthyic tiger, could propagate in peace 

 All who know the bluefish well know that it slays after its 

 appetite is sated, and often rushes into a scLoo] of menhaden 

 and bites large pieces from their bodies, which its gorged 

 condition forbids it to swallow. 



If the law passes, it means an end of " snapper fishing, 1 ' 

 that sport ol the juvenile which takes the family to the sea- 

 side; and if the fish is to bo protected at all, it seems to us 

 that a quarter of a pound is a better limit than three quarters. 

 A bluefish of the latter weight is quite a respectable fish, and 

 while not in much demand at hotels is largely sold to the 

 family trade in New York bringing sometimes twice as 

 much per pound as its larger brethren; but if there is a fish 

 in our waters which can better do without protection, or 

 about whoso actual benefit to our food supply there may well 

 be differences of opinion, it is the fish with shark-like habits 

 of destruction known in the North as "bluefish," and in the 

 South as "tailor," but whose full name is Poraatomm salla- 

 t/rlx. 



EVENING IN CAMP. 



THE day wns one of abundant satisfaction. It could not 

 have been improved upon had it been made to order. 

 "We had spent it with Nature, listeued to her voice in the 

 babbling brook and in the echoes that came rolling down the 

 mountain sides, and had seen her face in a multitude of vary- 

 ing expressions, rough and sturdy in the gnarled and knotted 

 trees and in the jagged rocks, bright and smiling in the quiet 

 lake, joyous and laughing in the hurrying stream, modest 

 and timid in the creeping vines and wild flowers, and radiant 

 in the hues of sunset. In purple and gold aud crimson the 

 suu went down, and following came the gray of evening, 

 aud that in its turn melted into blackness 



Our shanty was a jewel among shantic§. No temporary 

 affair was it, hurriedly constructed to afford some belated 

 sportsman a resting-place for a night, but one put together 

 carefully and witli full attention to details. A spring of 

 water near at hand and a wood pile all around furnished a 

 supply more than equal to the demand for those necessities. 

 There was a background of precipitously rising mountains, 

 and a stone's throw in front was the lake whitening beneath 

 the rising moon. Rods are placed safely aside, wading shoes 

 kicked off, dry clothes put on, and wistful glances cast to- 

 ward the preparations for supper. 



The coffee pot was singing a solo for tea, the frying pan 

 was hissing the song and putting golden brown touches on 

 the trout, while the big kettle seemed to be bubbling over 

 w T ith light-hearted merriment aud potatoes, and occasionally 

 betraying a desire to throw water on the performance ,■ and 

 the odors that commeuced to titillate our no3trils announced 

 that four hungry men would soon have little cause for com- 

 plaint. It make3 one fierce as a wolf this missing of a mid- 

 day meal, but it's well worth the missing if you are casting 

 your lines where the trout sport with matchless grace and 

 activity. 



Appetites seemingly iuappeasable were satisfied with the 

 quality and quantity that had been prepared and the pleasant, 

 jolly evening around llie camp fire commences. It may not 

 last late, for the angler, while suffering no real sensation of 

 weariness from his day's tramping and fishing, may perhaps 

 have a feeling of being healthily tired, yet will not forego 

 for an hour the story and song and the after-supper smoke. 

 He counts it as a very important factor iu his sport when, 

 glowing and pleasant in the ruddy gl -ire of the camp fire, 

 every face beaming with cheerfulness, comes the evening's 

 reunion — a glorious lassitude. 



Carlyle's precept, " Speech is silvern ; silence is golden," 

 will not content him in holding his tongue. Speech by the 

 camp lire is golden. There one wants a fellow to talk even 

 though he says nothing. The brilliant flashes of wit may 

 be very obscure, the choice morsels of wisdom seldom half 

 done, and where well done spoiled in the cooking ; but let 

 them have free play. They help to frighten away the blue 

 devils if there are any lurking about the camp. They can't 

 bear the sound. 



Aud then the smoking! No cigars, but the choice old 

 pipes, next to the rod and reel the mo t iudispensable articles 

 of the angler's outfit. The shanty is fast filling, and we are 

 soon enveloped in clouds from the fragrant weed which are 

 peculiarly odorous and refreshing. The nicotine of civiliza- 

 tion mingles best with Nature's oxygen here iu the woods, 

 where the air is laden with balsanrc odors. It makes one's 

 tobacco the more enjoyable, and improves the balsam of the 

 forest. 



Arid theu the singing ! The far-away hills reverberate our 



songs and return our choruses in trebled sounds. Now and 

 then the crickets crowd iu a word edgewise, but. seldom are 

 even they heard, Incessant talkers though they be. The 

 sweetuess of the mush- would be beiglilfinofj by distance; and 

 the greater the distance the sweeter the heightening. Re- 

 vival hymns, campaign chotuscs, songs of love and war arc 

 irredeemably mixed and commingled wi h the. monotonous, 

 refrain of the crackling fire, the sighing breeze and the 

 chirping insects. It would maico the average midnight Keren- 

 ader close his music- box and " s'lently steal away." 



The stories are told ; the songs, thank Heaven, are finished ; 

 the pipes are empty; the night fire replenished. Head Hi 

 Riot Act and disperse the crowd. Metaphorically speaking. 

 \VC go to roost, and balmy sleep needs no more earnest, wooer 

 than the man who has angled from rosy morn till dewy eve. 



MlI.I.AHO. 



Animal Life as Ajteotkd by thk Natural Condition's 

 of Existence, by Carl Semper, Professor of the University 

 of Wurzburg, D. Appleton & Co., New York. This is a 

 volume of the International Scientific Series, and, like its 

 fellows, is very fully illustrated. Prof. Semper writes in an at- 

 tractive style, clear in expression and profuse in illustration, 

 and his book may be read with pleasure by any one at all 

 familiar with zoology. He thinks with Jaeger that, "enough 

 has been done in the way of philsophizing by Darwinists, and 

 that the task that now lies before us is to apply the test of 

 exact investigation to the hypothesis we have laid down," 

 but at the same time acknowledges its difficulty. It appears 

 to him that of all properties of the animal organism variability 

 is that which mny be fist and most easily traced by exact in- 

 vestigation to its efficient causes. This is no doubt the sub- 

 ject around which the strife of opinions is at present raging, 

 and therefore one of general interest. The author has col- 

 lected a wealth of material which he compresses into a digest- 

 able form and presents it in a manner to show its fullest sig- 

 nificance. His freedom from dogmatism may be seen iu his 

 frank admission that " In all zoological investigations, as in 

 almost everything else, a certain influence may be detected 

 which may be termed the person element." 



The book is filled wi h instances of the influence of changed 

 conditions upon animal life, taken from his own and the in- 

 vestigations of others, and the variability of life in different 

 situations seems to the author to be a vulnerable point iu what 

 is known as the Darwinian theory. He treats the subject 

 very fairly and makes no claim to have pierced this point, 

 which he only suggests exists, nor that he has by any means 

 exhausted his subject— but he seems desirous of indicating 

 paths for others to follow. He tells us that Darwin showed 

 the possibility of discovering the path which nature struck 

 out in order to produce her endless variety of animal forms, 

 and of detecting the means she has employed in her task ; 

 and that under the influence of Darwin's views zoologists 

 have begun to inquire into the true and natural affinities of 

 animal types by the studies of comparative anatomy and em 

 bryology. They at the same time began to devise genealogi- 

 cal trees for the different groups, which is where the 

 personal clement comes in and renders the pedigrees 

 doubtful. 



Prof. Semper inclines to believe that the conditions which 

 affect animal life are not of as great impoitauee as have been 

 attached to them, and claims that Darwin has partly modified 

 his views on this subject. At times our author draws dis- 

 tinctions which require not only constant attention to enable 

 the reader to follow him, but also a train of thought which 

 may be called profound, such is his separation of the physio- 

 logy of the organization of an animal from the physiology of 

 its organs. Each chapter contains the. conclusion which 

 the author arrives at : "That no power which is aide to act 

 only as a selective, and not as a transforming influence, 

 can ever be exclusively put forward as the proper efficient 

 cause, causa rj/iMni, of any phenomenon." Among the in- 

 fluences which he considers as influencing animal life are 

 food, light, temperature, stagnant water, a s ill atmosphere, 

 water in motion, c urrents as a means of extending or hinder- 

 ing the distribution of species, influcuce of other conditions 

 of existence, influence of living surroundings, and the se- 

 lective influence of living organisms on animals, each of 

 which is treated of in an entire chapter. 



The Beklin Medals.— The medals aud diplomas from the 

 Intermit! nal Fishery Exhibition at Berlin have arrived at 

 Washington, and have been delivered' by the Secretary of 

 State to Prof. Baird for distribution. Those intended for 

 the vicinity of New York will be sent to Mr. Fred. Mather, 

 of the For.EST and Stkeam, where their oxyncrs can obtain 

 them. The diplomas are beautiful, as we have seen, aud 

 the cuts of the medals which we have published show that 

 they also must be elegant. 



A new edition of Westwood's " Bibliotheca Piscatoria " is 

 ready for the press. We have received proof-sheets which 

 show that it will be a most valuable record of all books on 

 fishing and fish culture in English aud other lauguag s from 

 the earliest times to the present, with occasional notes on 

 their value, etc. An instance of the thoroughness of the 

 work is shown in the fact, that twenty editions of Dame Juli- 

 anna Berner's (or Barnes) " Boke of St. Albans" are given, 

 dating froniHSO to 1880, and the notes occupy as much space- 

 as in two columns of FonRST and Stkeam. The new edition 

 will contain much fresh matter. 



V te MgoAwxn §ambt 



SI'IUNG OXCE M.OIili. 





Anil those mils alt "Tim and ilnsiv 

 from belilnil LUe sauiamn ilnur.' 





For In llie Forest, on the StMam, 



I'lonsmv Walls 1 In' k nl^lll h Hum; 



Those wlio win-ship dnil In Nature 

 Know HlSgl'&it en-alive ham!. 



Hear His music tn the waters, 

 Find UN shadow In Hieeloiuts, 



And a pleasure curios, Holy, 

 Never Known to fashion's crowd. 





Brother sportsmen, Hprlnir comes blnshi 



Ltkea malileli full el charms, 

 Soft ami ti-einlillnif, cLid Willi flowers. 



Ed'jlC 1 --* 



Kiillofswceiaml sutr. alarms ; 

 Let us up ami manful aieei her 

 With our Kiius ami luils in hand, 



Tliaiikfill mi' Mie lieall !) thai His us 

 lO'i- lie- lure*! and Hie stream. 

 Xcat, March 2!i, 18S1. 



THE WHITE BUFFALO COW. 



i ' A P- WK 'CUN-NY," said Pe-nuk-wi-um to me one 



XI. evening when we were camped near Black I Jut te, 

 "the young men say that there is a white cow in the band 

 of buffalo below here." A white cow I The words sent an 

 electric thrill all through me, and I unconsciously passed 

 my hand along the barrel of the carbine which lay 

 close by my side. A white cow ! One of those rare al- 

 binos, so rare that among thousands upon thousands of 

 buffalo I had never seen one of them. For a long time I had 

 hoped to come across one of these animals, but as time 

 passed aud the buffalo kept decreasing in number, I finally 

 concluded it would never be my lot to chase one of them. 

 Here was a chance. A white cow was close by, and I deter- 

 mined to kill it or kill my horse in the pursuit. 



" re-uuk-wi-um," I said, "let us ' make medicine,' and 

 you tell the sun I want to kill that white cow." 



" Ah, that will be good," he replied, and accordingly un- 

 wrapped the sacred " medicine-pipe," filled and lighted it. 

 and blowing a few whiffs toward the sky and the ground, re- 

 peated the following prayer: 



" Oh, Sun. Oh, World-maker. Take pity. Not far off a 

 white cow stops; it is with many buffalo. Take pity. We 

 are not strong. Y T ou are strong. Long ago you went behind 

 the mountains. Be quick and got up early to-morrow morn- 

 ing. One white man stops here. His name is Ap-we-cun-nv. 

 Take pity. Give him Ji'al-o-yi (that of the sun). Give his 

 horse J\'at o yi, so he cau kill the white cow. We will not 

 cat it. We will tan the robe and hang it in a tree. The robe 

 we will give to you. I have said." 



As be concluded and passed me the long pipe I asked bin) 

 why he would not eat the meat of the white cow. "Be- 

 cause," he rcolied, "because the suu owns the white cow. 

 He sends it from way off in the sky. It is his and we must 

 not eat it. We must give hint the robe. We must tan it 

 soft and white and hang it up where he can see it. Then he 

 "is glad." 



Taking down a yellow and red painted "medicine sack," 

 which hung over his head, Pe-nuk-wi-um eaiptied its con- 

 tents into his hip— queer stones, little fossilized snails, etc. 

 Singling out one perfectly round pebble he gave it to me, 

 saving, " Keep it. I give it to you. It is the ' sun's, and we 

 call it a buffalo rock. When you wear it your horse will not 

 fall ; you will shoot straight ; you will kill the white cow." 



Of course during all this I kept a perfectly grave face. For 

 it is only by seeming to believe that a person can get an In- 

 diau to talk on these subjects. I had been so successful with 

 Pe-nuk-wi-um that he thought I believed in his religion ami 

 legends as much as any one of his tribe. 



" Well, Penuk wi-um," I said, after a long silence, "tell 

 me one short story and then wo will go to bed." 



•' All right," he replied ; " I will tell you a short one about 

 the Old Wan (Old Man: a mythical person who forms -the 

 chief subject of Blackfoot legends). Once the Old Man was 

 taking a walk. It was night, but the moon and stars were 

 all looking down, so it was not very dark. When cross- 

 ing a little prairie he heard music, which seemed to 

 come from a hole in the ground. ' Ha ! Who 

 can be in there, I wonder,' said the Old Man to 

 himself, and looking in he saw a multitude of mice having a 

 war-dance, some of them beating drum-t and others dancing 

 about the fire singing and brandishing spears of grass over 

 their heads. ' I would like to dance with you,' said the Old 

 Man. 'Come in, come in,' replied the Mice. 'Poke yout 

 head one way and another and the hole will be large enough.' 

 When the Oid Man got inside the Chief Mouse said, 'Let's 

 have plenty of tun— let's dance all night.' 'All right,' said 

 the Old Man ; ' we will dance all night, aud the first one who 

 gets sleepy is to have his hair cut off. 1 'Good, good!' all 

 exclaimed, and then the dance commenced, each one trying 

 to dance the best. When it was almost morning the Old 

 Man said, 'Now, all of you sit down and drum, and I will 

 show you a new kind of dance.' The Old Man soon became 

 interested in his dance and forgot all about the music till he 

 was tired; then, looking up, he saw all the Mice silling in 

 their places fast asleep, their heads nodding like spears Qf 

 grass in the wind. ' Ha ! ha ! You are all asleep, are youi" 

 he said, and taking out his knife he went around and cut off 

 all of their whiskers, singing : 



' Ki-nux-fa-n i-yah. 

 I-wa/i-pe-uotih-*/. 

 Oak-se-est-ce-yah. 

 M'tck-stoak-tx-est-n-yah.'' 



" Pipe is out, Ap-wo-cun-ny," said Pc nuk-wi-um, as he 

 knocked the ashes out of the great red-stone bowl we had 

 been smoking ; aud weturned in. 



Next moriiiing we were up quite early. Too excited to 

 eat a regular breakfast, 1 swalled a few mouthfuls of boiled 

 buffalo ribs while cleaning out my Winchester carbine and 

 filling my cartridge belt. Then I examined the cineha ami 

 sewing of my "running saddle," made of buckskin filled 



