FOREST AND STREAM, 



ward from the northern boundary of the United States, and 

 spreads over the whole treeless region of the West, from 

 the prairies of northern Illinois and Wisconsin to the rye- 

 grass foot-hills of northern California, and reaches south- 

 ward to a little beyond the parallel of 40^ in the Great 

 Basin. This race differs from that found further north, in 

 much lighter, more ochraceous colors, and in naked toes. 

 The first feature is due to the common law, giving birds of 

 the arid,-?trseless districts, (of strong heat and reflection 

 during the summer months, and an almost arctic winter,) 

 lighter, more bleached colors than those of more wooded 

 districts; while the nakedness of the toes is due to the fact 

 that in their southern habitat they do not need the protec- 

 tion from cold which their northern brethren do. 



KOBETIT RlDGEWAY. 



ROTATION OF FISH. 



s^ Cazenovia, November, 1873. 



Editor Forest and Stream: — 



He who files and binds the Forest and Stream will 

 secure an amount of varied information concerning fish 

 and game that collected from the observations of men in all 

 parts of the globe, will, in time, be of infinite interest and 

 value; and none of it will tend more to explode or confirm 

 ancient and venerable notions than the columns so kindly 

 given to correspondents who send for record the investiga- 

 tions made with regard to the peculiarities of game-birds 

 and animals. 



The question of snakes swallowing their young has been 

 responded to with abundant confirmation, and if the mooted 

 point, "Will bass take a fly?" is not authoritively set- 

 tled, let your present correspondent add the small weight 

 of his testimony, in saying that fly-fishing for Oswego and 

 black bass has long been one of his favorite amusements, 

 although they are more eager for a spoon b it, or in mid 

 summer, deem a grasshopper the tit bit most tempting of 

 all. 



A question of considerable interest may arise from seek- 

 ing the why of what may be termed the rotation of animal 

 life, to use the word as applied to crops. 



It is well known that the numbers of any variety of 

 animals vary greatly in succeeding years, and the same ap- 

 plies to birds. In some instances there are evident facts to 

 account for the increase or diminution of certain species, as 

 when a winter of sudden snows, or rapidly formed crust, 

 causes the death of covies of quail and birds that are in the 

 habit of collecting upon the ground; but there are great 

 variations in cases where our present information affords 

 no satisfactory reasons to satisfy our curiosity. 



In fish we see something of the kind, but concealed, as 

 they are, from observation, it is not easy to distinguish dim- 

 inution in number from diminution in catch. 



In the Lake at this place, there have been changes that 

 may lead minds more familiar than your correspondent's, to 

 some conclusions of interest. 



When the Lake was first visited it was known by the In- 

 dians, Onondagas and Oneidas, by the name Ohahgena, the 

 " Lake of Yellow Perch." The waters of the Lake at the 

 beautiful falljs of the Chittenango, ("waters running north") 

 go in one leap one hundred and forty feet, and although 

 salmon came in those good old days when the cornucopia of 

 nature held something beside bull heads and suckers,to the 

 foot of this cascade, no fin came beyond; proving that un- 

 less the lazy Indians made their squaws plant fish, the yel- 

 low perch were original inhabitants, dating in Occupancy 

 from the flood, or from some of the glacial disturbances 

 that have laid petrified saud beaches, with every ripple mark 

 preserved, on our hill tops; the stones being from the Potts- 

 dam group, one hundred miles north, and one thousand 

 feet below the final resting place of the slab that tells how 

 in the workshop of nature shifting sands are made a record 

 of ages, while permanent rocks tell a talc of wandering. 

 Living in less distinguishing numbers with the yellow 

 perch, were the placid sucker, the dressy sunfish, and a few 

 common pond fish; but there is no record of trout in the. 

 Lake, although they were abundant in the streams about. 



Some forty years ago pickerel were introduced. The 

 variety chosen as the best was from the Susquehanna, a 

 brighter fish than the St. Lawrence cousin, with whom 

 they now live in Oneida Lake, having gone alive over the 

 Chittenango Falls, and from whom they are favorably dis- 

 tinguished as more beautiful to the eye and more agreeable 

 to the taste. 



The perch held their own with these long jawed fellows, 

 and both did well. Perch of one and two pounds were 

 abundant, fine to catch and eat, while the pickerel were the 

 aim of many an idler, falling victims to the seductions of 

 minnows, frogs legs and, in later years, to the entrancing 

 spoon. So far it was a well disposed community, when to 

 add variety, Oswego bass, (a shade different from the black), 

 were introduced, and they flourished until many a rod was 

 bent double to their vigorous rush. 



With them pike were brought, but they must have been 

 the Kilkenny breed, for no record remains of any survivors 

 among them. The pickerel were not sufferers, they never 

 are, (and it is the only case on record where some one great 

 pike did not also prove triumphant), but the bright banded 

 golden perch were humiliated, and it is presumed were 

 sacrificed to " the survivoral of the fittest." A few small 

 ones bit in retired coves on pin hooks, but they were no 

 longer a power among fish— neither free nor equal. 



For many years no changes were noticed. Three years 

 ago the Fish Commissioners sent 8,000 salmon trout, which 

 were placed in deep water, and one year ago 80,000 more, 

 with 80,000 white fish, were introduced. 



which do no not take bait, will not be taken by nets, bu 

 are introduced experimentally to see if they and their spawn 

 will not afford food in deep water for the salmon trout. 

 How far this experiment will succeed, time alone can de- 

 monstrate. Black bass have also been' planted, and a few 

 wall-eyed pike — but they arc still small. 



There does not seem to be any cause in all these changes 

 to effect the bass unfavorably, or the "perch favorably, but 

 the catch of the past season has been very small in bass, 

 almost nothing, while the perch fishing is vastby improved, 

 and many were taken upon flies by trolling them under 

 w r ater. Dead fish have not been seen in unusual numbers, 

 and no good reason is given for the absence of the bass, so 

 we are inclined to think there may be some such variation 

 in their numbers as exists from year to year among squir- 

 rels, &c, &c. The water is one from- which migration is 

 practically impossible; yet, the usual amount of skillful 

 fishing has been exercised in vain, and some cause must be 

 sought beyond any known at present. 



In this correspondence there are no conclusions, but state- 

 ments of the kind may be so multiplied as to lead to some 

 that may be valuable, and with this hope the statements are 

 communicated. L. W. L. 



WILD TURKEY'S. 



The white fish 



Cumberland, Md., Dec. I, 1873. 



Editor Forest .and Stream : — 



The game* birds found in this region of country are the 

 wild turkey, pheasant, partridge, woodcock, jack snipe, 

 and several varieties of the duck family. 



All sink into insignificance when compared with the 

 noblest wild fowl that makes its home in the mountain 

 fastnesses of the Blue Kidge and Alleghanies. I refer to the 

 wild turkey. The proud step and stately beating of this 

 bird in his native wilds, proclaim him the monarch of 

 game birds in this section of country. 



When full grown he averages probably twenty pounds 

 in weight, and he not unfrequently is found weighing as 

 high as twenty-five or six. 



The plumage is yery dark, nearly black in many cases, 

 and glossy; the usual color is a bronze deepening into green- 

 ish black. The hens are duller in color than the gobblers. 



A pair of turkeys raise from ten to twenty young in a 

 season. So wary and watchful are they that it is seldom 

 an opportunity can bo obtained in which to observe them 

 when in '.heir domestic relations. Their habits are there- 

 fore unknown to many. Severe battles often take place 

 between the gobblers to determine which shall be the hap- 

 py spouse of some hen that watches without seeming 

 interest the struggle going on for her sake. The victorious 

 hero strutting proudly by the side of the well pleased hen, 

 becomes so much excited over his victory that the red and 

 white of his head und neck assume a deep purple. With 

 tail spread to its utmost extent, and one wing sweeping the 

 ground, an old gobbler presents a fine picture of self-satis- 

 faction and pride. The vanguished gobbler does not write 

 , a letter admonishing his friends that he is so stricken with 

 shame at hi" defeat, and so stricken with grief at the loss 

 of his adored that to remain any longer on this mundane 

 sphere would only be a strain upon his feelings and make 

 him a burden of woe and grief to his friends. Such a reas- 

 on as this having been given for his blind act he does not go 

 to a lone and secluded spot where some giant rock over- 

 hangs a deep and boiling pool, and after having behaved 

 himself in an insanely appropriate g manner throw himself 

 as a sacrifice to his selfishness into the waters below. No, 

 he is more sensible than that, After his .defeat he does 

 some very fast walking to get out of the way of his success- 

 ful adversary. This having been accomplished he busies 

 himself in smoothing out his ruffled plumage and in cover- 

 ing the marks of defeat. Once more Ids "keouk" sounds 

 through the forest inviting another fight or perhaps seeking 

 a meeting with some other hen, and thus the war of the 

 gobblers continues until all are mated and the theory of 

 natural selection verified. 



A spot in the far off mountain is selected under a shelter- 

 ing log or jutting rock, the dried leaves and grasses of the 

 last fall are scooped out, and in the hollow thus formed the 

 eggs are deposited. During incubation the gobbler stays 

 near his mate, and when she desires to leave the nest in 

 search of food and to rest her cramped limbs he takes her 

 place upon the eggs. 



As soon as the young are hatched a spot easier of access 

 is sought where the young birds may obtain food more 

 readiby. Both parents take great interest in the growth and 

 progress of their young family. The wild turkey is more 

 hardy than its domestic cousin, and the rains of spring and 

 the early summer months affect the health of the young 

 brood much less than our tame and domesticated varieties. 

 A dry season is preferable for their rapid development. At 

 one month old the real trials and dangers, of the young 

 family begin. At this age there is sufficient giood eating in 

 the young turkey to make the chops of Reynard water with 

 delight, and the numerous hawks infesting this region are 

 not insensible of the delicious flavor of wild turkey. 



The young birds are exposed to the greatest amount of 

 danger in the latter part of August and the first of Septem- 

 ber; they are then about the size of a common barn-yard hen, 

 and are an easy prey for the hunter. A flock of half grown 

 turkeys startled by the approach of any one will take im- 

 mediately to the nearest trees, and can be shot one after 

 another from their perches. This mode of slaughtering 

 the poor birds is poor fun and a disgrace to a true sports- 

 man. Five turkeys at that season will about equal one 

 £aod*one killed during the months of November and Decem- 



ber. The two last named months are the ones in which 

 the turkey ought to be hunted, and I would be much grati- 

 fied if our Legislature could be induced to pass a law pro- 

 hibiting their destruction (for so I must call it) at any other 

 time. 



In the morning after "the beautiful" has covered the 

 ground to the depth of an inch or two is the best time to 

 start upon a hunt for wild turkeys. They will then be 

 actively searching .for food and every movement and turn 

 may then be traced in the snow. Great caution is necessary 

 in approaching them; their sight is excellent, and their 

 hearing good. Many a fine gobbler is lost by the cracking 

 of a twig or the movements of the hunter. Every precau- 

 tion should be taken to see as far ahead as possible without 

 being seen. If provided with a turkey caller it is well 

 every now and then to see if an answering "keouk" cannot be 

 obtained. If the hunter be fortunate enough to get withiD 

 shooting distance let him take deliberate aim at the head 

 (if provided with a rifle). But the possessor of a shot gun 

 should aim to cover the whole body. After being mortally 

 wounded a turke3 r will frequently run or fly for half a mile, 

 but in a straight line. And very many turkeys are thought 

 to have escaped injury when by a careful search they 

 might have been found dead a short distance from the 

 place where they received the fatal shot. 



As the cultivation of the bottom lands along our 

 rivers increases the wild turkeys become more abundant. 

 During the late civil war agriculture was at a stand still in 

 this part of the country; the farmers raised barely suffi- 

 cient to keep body and soul united, consequently the food of 

 the wild turkey was diminished in quantity and there was 

 a proportionate decrease in their numbers. But since hostil- 

 ities have ceased and the fields are once more contributing 

 the necessaries of life, the wild turkey has steadily increased 

 in numbers, and to-day or any day during the season 

 dozens may be seen hanging in front of the restaurants and 

 game stands. 



I have spoken of a turkey caller, and it would not be 

 doing justice to myself or my readers to close without de- 

 scribing this implement of the turkey hunt. The small 

 bone from the wing of the turkey makes a very good caller 

 by putting one end into the mouth and drawing the air 

 through it, but the best one can be obtained by sawing 

 about two inches from the end of a cow horn, then cut a 

 piece of shingle so as to fit the small end of the piece sawed 

 off, bore a hole in the middle of the shingle, and insert a 

 stick about the thickness of a ten penny nail, allowing the 

 end of the stick to come through the piece of horn and to 

 project a short distance beyond the open end. Put the end 

 of the stick thus projecting upon a piece of slate and the 

 sound produced thereby is the best imitation of the "keouk" 

 of a turkey known. Observer. 

 : ^ t» . 



■DEER HUNTING IN CANADA. 



Editor Forest and Stream: — 



Being a subscriber for your valuable paper I thought a 

 short account of a deer hunt among the rocks of Digby and 

 Dalton would interest your readers. Our party consisted 

 of four gentlemen and myself, accompanied by two deer 

 hounds, named Bugler and Music, also a spaniel named 

 Joe. We took along our tent and a plenteous supply of 

 blankets and buffalo robes, also some stuff we commonly 

 call "goose oil" which answers two purposes, one is to 

 keep us from getting dry, and the other is to pour into our 

 boots to keep the wet out. It was well into the small hours 

 of the morning when we reached the camping ground and 

 began to pitch tent and cut wood to make a fire. We had 

 bad luck the first three days, although the dogs started 

 some deer. On Saturday morning we made an early start 

 and were all on orr runways by day light. The dogs had 

 not been long away before I heard their charming music. 

 It did not last long, as bang went Donald's gun, and so did 

 Hector's, and away went the buck for a point on Cranberry 

 lake, where Charley was stationed. Bang went his gun 

 and down dropped Mr. Buck, being shot in the head. 

 After cutting him open and giving the dogs a feed, we 

 started back to the tent taking the deer along with us. It 

 was well on in the afternoon when we arrived there, but I 

 took Joe (the spaniel) along with me, after some partridge, 

 and before night set in I had been successful in Bagging 

 six brace. 



Jim Salter came into camp, (he is a farmer jand deer 

 hunter) and some proposed still hunting; so on the next 

 morning my friend Billy and I went with Jim. His direc- 

 tions were few and simple ;|he told me to walk quietly along 

 the ridge, and^ Billy to take that one (pointing to the ridge 

 a little farther on). After we had taken our latitude we all 

 went into the bush, climbing over rocks, swales and gulleys. 

 All went well for a short time, and then I heard my friend. 

 "Hallo — Bob, come here." I found him sitting on a log, wet, 

 dirty and swamping up to his waist. Bang went Jim's rifje 

 three times (shoots a Henry) and brought down a doe, 

 which we cleaned and buried in the snow until morning. 

 We had hard work to' get it into camp next morning, as 

 the snow was two feet deep and not crested sufficiently to 

 bare us. While we were away the rest of the party had 

 succeeded in. killing two buck fawns. During that night it 

 was the first howl of the wolves that disturbed our rest. 

 They must have come very near, as the dogs barked r and 

 howled gloriously and were much scared. Some of us 

 looked out, but could see nary a wolf, only hear their in- 

 fernal howl. -No doubt the track of the deer that we had 

 shot and buried, and the smell of blood, had aroused their 

 insatiable hunger. Next morning on looking for tracks we 

 found the snow trodden down as if there had baaa a fight. 



