202 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Oct. 11, 1883. 



fftu gportmqm §onri§t 



SPHERE is. a ghost of a suspicion in my miud that that 

 X title should"be 



SQUIRREL SHOOTING. 



){ n suspicion in my mi 

 piirrel hunting." However, wait un- 

 til we get back and we'll see. 



The close season had expired. Still, cool mornings, when 

 the dew lay heavily and Uie smoke iiom Hie chimney rose 

 Straight, into the air, suggested squirrels. An early frost 

 had scorched the cornfields, stricken the buckwheat, and 

 along the hillsides an occasional tree hung out. a banner of 

 flame. The time was ripe for squirrels, so getting my trusty 



fun — no, on second thought I didn't get my trusty gun, but 

 procured one from a firm where guns might be rented by 

 unfortunates who have no guns. The man gave me one. 

 saying ''That's a rattling good" gun." 



i took it, shook it, and replied, "Correct. Dost hear it?" 



'•Oh! Thai's perfectly safe, a little loose, that's all." 



Well, r took the gun, thinking of the days when I pos- 

 sessed a sun that was a gun. Went home, loaded twenty 

 shells, so that if T missod every other .-hot I should still have 

 enough gam.- ior a pot-pie, That night I got my little alarm 

 clock down and proceeded to experiment. The thing had 

 become nun -liabh- soujewliat, had a habit of forgetting the 

 alarm part until an hour or so had elapsed, when it would 

 make up for lost, time by an unusually awful clatter. I 

 touched [lei offatew times until I had her gauged about 

 ritrht, and then setting her for four o'clock, 1 muffled her 

 with all the clothes I look off, and got into bed, setting the 

 chair near my pillow, for I did not want the household 

 waked at an unseemly hour. The little cluck more than did 

 its duty, for at quarter to four next morning, like the gun, 

 "it was a rattling good one." 



It was a foggy morning. A very thick foggy morning. 

 As 1 stepped out of doors to go to feed my horse, a faint cur- 

 rent of air from the north fanned my damask check, and I 

 feared an early breeze which would interfere sadly with my 

 Bports. My noble steed pawed for his oats, which he quickly 

 got, and then I proceeded to forage in the pantry and cellar 

 for my own oats, so to speak. 



After several trips, upsetting the milk and dishing the 

 sauce in a way not intended, 1 corralcd quite a variety of 

 good things and sat down to enjoy them. 



Do you know, 1 think such a breakfast almost as good as 

 the hunting. A deal better sometimes, for when 1 hunt for 

 breakfast 1 generally find it, bring it down, or put it down, 

 as it were, but not always SO afield or in the wools. 



What I mean is, that 1 thoroughly enjoy that prelude to a 

 day out. The appetizing lunch set forth. The house all 

 quiet. The gun and hunting coat at hand. The coffee smok- 

 ing and — the anticipation of our hunt. It is a season of per- 

 fect enjoyment to me. How often have I known it. 



The meal ended, 1 hitched horse to buggy and drove off. 

 All alone on the road. The half moon overhead struggled 

 to see what was going on down here, but the fog baffled Tier. 

 G bests of trees peered at me as I passed, and were hidden 

 again bv the enveloping mist. Here and there a light 

 twinkled* in a farmhouse, and through one Window I beheld 

 the wife pouring out the morning chicory. Distant dogs 

 barked, also those more adjacent, and the early cock crowed 

 from among Ids harem in the Deceases of his contracted quar- 

 ters reeking with foul odors from excrement long unremoved, 

 as is wont to be the casein the fowl .yard of the ordinary 

 farmer. 



It began to grow lighter. Cattle lay near the bars of the 

 pasture, having long since chewed out their yesterday's cuds, 

 and now waited motionless, stolidly, for the farmer to come 

 and milk them. I ascend a long hill and approach a very 

 unpretentious farmhouse where I stopped last season. I 

 drive into the barnyard and find the farmer cleaning out his 

 stable. 



"Good morning!" 



"How are you, sir?" 



"1 called to see if I could put my horse up here while I 

 look up the squirrels awhile." 



"Certainly, sir. Plenty of room." 



He didn't know much about the squirrels. Hadn't heard 

 much shooting. I was soon going toward the woods (where 

 the previous season I had had good sport) across a field that 

 v,ms so stony that the owner hadn't dared tackle it. lhad, iu 

 ascending the hill, risen above the line of fog and now looked 

 back Upon it where it lay like a calm, impenetrable sea, or 

 tossed into WltoWS. In the east a rosy glow foretold the 

 birth of a new day, and it was just the hour to be in the 

 woods. There is a time for all things, and half the interest 

 of the hunt is gone for me if I'm not on hand in the nick of 

 time. A field of buckwheat lay next the woods. It would 

 have been better corn. Buckwheat was of little use there to 

 roc. The owner probably thought he knew what was best, 

 but without doubt he was mistaken. I took the fence with- 

 out a header. Listened. Not a sound. Walked a few 

 paces on eggs. Lea ncd against a tree. Used eyes and ears 

 diligently. Alia! On yonder tree skips a rodent nimbly. 1 

 approach quietly. Ci'ane my neck. Squint. And from a 

 limb high up a 'little tail wags erratically and vigorously 

 while the saucy bark of a red squirrel salutes the listening 

 ear. 



Bosh! Bother! Away wid yc! 



I turned and gently glode along. A fallen tree some 

 distance on invites a rest.' I sit down and listen. I thought 

 the stillness would have been more delicious if it had been 

 brokeu by the bark of a gray squirrel. AfteT awhile I moved 

 on. Came to the blink of a ravine. Went half way down 

 and sat down where 1 had a good view. A sound of drop- 

 ping nuts or something, a few rods away, told of life in the 

 treeiops. Cautiously 1 make my way thither. All quiet 

 aeeiu. Presently fl limb shakes overhead. I cock my gun, 



i ;• reatlj and then see a red squirrel turning himself 



inside 



Bah! 



1 go hence Crows in the edge of the woods arc having a 

 caucus, and are as noisy and determined as human caucus- 

 Tilt; ehup, ehup of a chipmunk a little way off tells 

 that he has seen me. 



L'hitter-r-r-r-r away off in the woods goes another red nuis- 

 ance, Bui not a glimpse of a gray greets my waiting 

 orbs. 



1 move on, like Joe— I sit me down. I look. 1 listen— 



and tin: i Mvuinsenbed the woods and cut. it into 



divers chords, 1 give up the quest and go to my team, which 

 1 hitch up. Then the question arises, 'homewaid or on- 

 ward?" it is eight A. M. Getuiig late for squirrels, but I 



: L'< ■ i piore ot the country out that way, so 



1 drove on against the inclination of my horse, who natur- 



ally turned his head down the hill when I went out of the 

 gate. 



I drove half a mile or so, and came to two b oys cutting 

 firewood by the side of the road in front of a farmhouse. 

 Old chopping log half cut or hacked in two. Pile of saw- 

 dust, saw and buck, dull axe, and very small pile of stove 

 wood. 



"Good morning, boys! Any squirrels in the woods yonder?" 



"Yes, sir. They's* quite a tew, near 'em shootiu now 

 and then." (Referring to men). 



"Well, can 1 put my horse in the barn while I see what I 

 can see?" 



"I duono. Say, mam, can he?" 



"Certainly," says the mother, who has been listening un- 

 beknown to me. 



1 unhitch, and the boys open the door with an apologetic 

 ' 'lluint cleaned out this moruiu', had s#much to do. Gobi' 

 to, though." 



Then one adds as an excuse for the interrogation of his 

 mother, "Reason I asked mam was, dad's gone with the 

 team, 'n' I didn't know when he'd be back." 



As I took the gun from the buggy one of the lads asked, 

 "Be you a hunter?" 



"Just now I am considerably.'' 



"Mighty fine gun you've got." 



Just then a dog of the cocker spaniel type came up. and 

 seeing the gun. wagged the question, "Goin' hunting?" 



"Will he free partridges?" said I. 



''Yes, sir! Best kind of a dog for that. Trees partridges 

 nearly every time I so into the woods." 



"All right," said I, "will he follow me?" 



"Jess show him your gun and tell him you're eoin' huntin' 

 and he'll go." 



"Here, doggie. I'm going hunting; want to go?" 



No spoken language on "earth could answer affirmatively 

 and joyously better than he did, so off we went. He was all 

 over the ground iu a minute, and just after jumping the 

 fence into the woods gave a yelp and was off like' gun- 

 powder. In a moment or two 1 beard a muffled bark and 

 following on I found him with his eyes and mouth full of 

 dirt, at the foot of a hollow tree. In that short space of 

 time he had gnawed off half of the hark at the butt of the 

 tree and dug holes wherever the roots permitted. I pulled 

 him away from the hole in the. tree and found rabbit hair on 

 the bark. Ran a small limb up the hollow; not long enough. 

 Got another; too short. Set some leaves afire, put some 

 damp ones on top, and bad a fine smudge which poured 

 from a knot-hole fifteen feet up. Waited. Slothing dropped 

 for so long that I gave it up as a bad job, whistled the dog 

 off, and "maryandVred" along. After a while heard him 

 again. Followed scent and found him tearing up the earth 

 at the foot of a tree, near a hole therein about an inch in 

 diameter. 1 "called game" and the dog and hunted some 

 more. A partridge ten rods away suddenly rose and went 

 somewhere else. He bad been evidently watching me for 

 some time from a log of vantage. In desperation T might 

 have thrown some shot after him bad there not been a small 

 wilderness of brush between him and I. I wandered aimlessly 

 about for some time, listening and looking for squirrels, the 

 dog putting in an appearance occasionally just to keep up 

 the acquaintance, but I saw nothing but" a red, which 1 

 dropped out. of a tall tree just to see whether the sun was a 

 "rat Her" or not. My watch said ten o'clock. 1 was tired, 

 whistled up the dog and went to the barn, hitched up and 

 drove homeward. I think probably the aforesaid title ought 

 to be "Squirrel Hunting," hut 1 communed with nature and 

 myself considerably. S. 



im[nl 1§i§torQ. 



"THE BIRDS OF MAINE." 



Editor Forest anil Stream; 



Mr. Everett Smith's first and direct reply to my review of 

 his "Birds of Maine" was marked by such apparent courtesy 

 and good feeling that 1 might have allowed it to go unan- 

 swered, had he" not seen fit to reopen the subject with an 

 attack so pointed and sarcastic that 1 cannot longer remain 

 silent 



Let me first say that my review (in Bull. N. O. C, Vol. 

 Till., pp. 1G-1-1G6) was intended tube a just and moderate 

 criticism In many respects it proved the most difficult and 

 distasteful task that I have ever undertaken (It was shunned, 

 not Bought) for my friendly relations with the author made 

 it, hard" for me to deal impartially with his work. This 

 weakness was iu the end overcome, otherwise the review 

 had never appeared; fori do not respect, criticism which is 

 influenced by personal considerations— either friendly or in- 

 imical — or which shrinks from exposing all blunders or mis- 

 statements that are in any way calculated to do future harm. 

 But I neither wished nor attempted to deal harshly with the 

 paper, and I honestly tried to give it all the praise that it de- 

 served; on the other'hand, 1 did not hesitate to characterize 

 some of its defects in terms of Unqualified severity, for their 

 aggravated nature seemed to me to render such treatment 

 imperative. There has been too much leniency shown in 

 similar cases. A doubtful or even a demonstrably errone- 

 ous statement may do incalculable injury if not promptly 

 challenged and suppressed. Tf the author's pride is hurt by 

 the challenge, he should blame no one but himself, lie or- 

 dinarily does blame the critic, who incurs no end of ill-will 

 for having simply done his duty. Truly the critic's task is 

 an ungracious and thankless one. 



Tailing up the points in Mr. Smith's first letter (see Pon- 

 est AND Stkioam* Vol. XXL, No. 8, pp. 148, 149), I would 

 say that he is right in assuming that "the critic was well 

 aware of the fact that no technical descriptions were in- 

 cluded in the plan of the catalogue, and that the most 

 general terms were used in the very brief indications of 

 the character of the eggs and places of breeding of the 

 various species;" but that these terms were incorrect and 

 misleading, even as generafizStioUB, is shown by the singular 

 way in which they are defended, Thus the author explains 

 in a fairly correct tad satisfactory manner that the black- 

 Ibn-nh-il blue warbler nests in "vonng fir. hemlock or spruce 

 trees." "sometimes within two feet of the ground" (out of 

 fifteen or twenty nests which 1 have found in Maine not one 

 lias been built higher than three feet above the ground), and 

 thai the nest of the chestnut-sided warbler "is usually, if 

 not always placed iu a crotch between two branches or 

 iwii's oi (on a Li- inv=. bushes or ihruDs." Contrast this with 

 the'oriirinal statement that h ith pel ii - nested "on trees"! 



Bimilarh ..."■_! . ■: ■ t u tl\ catcher was said, in the list, 



to breed "'u-ie,!l\ QD bleb trees,** an assertion which I criti- 

 cised because it implied that the nest was placed on the tree 



or branch — as with the olive-sided flycatcher — not in it, that 

 is in a hole or crevice, which is invariably the case. The 

 author in replying misses the point entirely", and devotes his 

 attention to proving that the nest is sometimes built high 

 above the giound, a fact which no one of course will dispute. 



Of the winter wren Mr, Smith wrote: "Its eggsand habits 

 are similar to those of the house wren." In defense ol this 

 assertion he now says: -'lis e£gs and habits do more resem- 

 ble those of the house wren than of any other bird in Maine 

 with which a relative comparison can be made;" adding, 

 "the family characteristics of these two species are similar?' • 

 This is not" sustaining the original position very strongly, but 

 his present ground is scarcely more tenable. Surely, it is 

 not necessary to go into details to prove this! Everyone 

 familiar with the two birds must know the radical difference 

 in their habits and haunts, especially during the breeding 

 season; the house wren familiar, confiding, frequenting gar- 

 dens and orchards, and often nesting in .the very heart of the 

 crowded, noisy city; the winter wren shy, retiring, seeking 

 the depths of the loneliest forests, and rarely, if ever, nesting 

 elsewhere. Moreover, their nests and eags differ quite as 

 widely. The eggs of the winter wren, despite Mr, Smith's 

 assertion to the contrary, are sometimes pure white, and un- 

 spotted like those of the short-billed marsh Wren, while I 

 have yet to see a specimen which by any possibility could be 

 mistaken for the egg of a house wren. 



The ease of Wilson's blackcap warbler is not important 

 and Mr. Smith is probably right in thinking thai the ma- 

 jority of the individuals seen in Maine are migrants, bound 

 to or from breeding grounds further to the north or east. 

 Nevertheless, he has overlooked a positive record of the 

 breeding of the species iu Maine, made on the excellent 

 authority of Mr. 0. P. Batchelder (Bull.K. O. C, Vol. VII., 

 p. 110). 



Regai'din? the eggs of the goldfinch the critic frankly 

 admits that he did not notice the author's correction in the 

 summary. The force of this correction is somewhat 

 weakened, however, by the peculiar advantages which the 

 author is known to have enjoyed in respect to these after 

 thoughts. 



So much for Mr. Smith's direct defense, which, by the 

 way, is remarkably well managed, considering the straits iu 

 which he was placed. Nevertheless it mu-i be e\ [dent to all 

 who are familiar with the points at issue', thai his explana- 

 tions, inmost cases, are either skillful evasions or more or 

 less full admissions of the errors with which be was dial gedj 

 Indeed, no other inference seems possible unless we assume 

 that our author does not. understand the use of the English 

 language; that, for instance, by on a tree he means in it; 

 that by the simple word tree he would imply a s:i[lin;j li 

 bush, or a shrub; that the words similar and dissimilar are, 

 in his mind, synonymous. Such an assumption is so unlikely, 

 however, in view of Mr. Smith's undeniable proficiency as a 

 writer, that his critic prefers to retain lirsi Impressions, viz., 

 that the author of the "Birds of Maine" undertook a task tea 

 which he was incompetent, and— failed. Or to he more ex- 

 plicit, and at the same time just, that he has produced a list 

 which, while neither creditable nor reliable as a whole, con- 

 tains some very interesting and valuable matter, especially 

 on water birds. 



The contents of Mr. Smith's second letter- can be summed 

 up in a few words. In an article on the while- winged gull 

 he describes a peculiar gull similar to one in Mr. Merrill's 

 collection which was recently announced as a specimen of 

 Lfrrus glaueexrcttit. After deUiiling its characteristics nt some 

 length he next assumes (wholly without argument) that it 

 represents a mere phase of L. leueapteTua, and on the. strength 

 of this assumption proceeds to attack my reputation aa a 

 general ornithologist because I had referred a I bird example 

 of the same form to T.<ir>i* '/■■ - In -'u-.ri. our author, 



finding himself charged with blundering, Seizes what seems 

 to him a favorable opportunity for retorting in kind, and in 

 a curiously adroit manner, impales the critic on his own 

 lance. 



Such, briefly, is the external aspect of the case; it has 

 another side, Mr. Smith mentions incidentally that he sent 

 his gull to Mr. Brewster for examination. He might have 

 added that I compared it with an extensive series from the 

 Smithsonian Institution, as well as with Mr. \Y<' h's 

 and Mr. Merrill's specimens; that I Submitted the more 

 important results iff this study to him in confidences 

 that he consented to my publishing any notes thai 

 chose relating to his specimen: and finally, that I have 

 prepared an extended paper on the subject for pub- 

 lication iu the October number of the Bulletin of the 

 Nuttall Ornithological Club (the last proofs of this paper nig 

 before me as I write). Just what this paper contains I need 

 not now explain. The point is that Mr. Smith acted upon a 

 knowledge of its existence and a partial knowledge of its 

 contents 'when he framed his article on the white-winged 

 gull. In so far as my reputation as an ornithologist has been 

 assailed I care little. My reputation stands before the world 

 for whatever it may be worth, and iu the presenl iuJ . 

 would go no further in its defense than to deprecate judg- 

 ment in the matter of this gull until alter my paper appears. 

 Nor do I care for the sarcasm with which Mr. Bmitns letter 

 abounds. Sarcasm, like fireworks and other brilliant effecta 

 may flash and sparkle to the momentary gratification of an 

 audience, but its results are seldom lasting, audit is much 

 more likely to burn the fingers of him who uses it than to 

 injure the object against which it is directed, I do care very 

 niuch, however, for the breach of confidence above referred 

 to for it is an act of which I did not deem its author capa- 

 Iji;. William Bkewsteh. 



Cambridge, Mass., Oct. 5. 1SSS. 



EXPERIENCE WITH SNAKES. 



PLEASE permit me to tender my acknowledgments to 

 Miss Citlieriue C. Ilopley. lor the information she has 

 so kindly and 80 courteously afforded on the subject of veno- 

 mous snakes. Kiss llople'v states that the class known as 

 "spreading adders." "spread heads." or "puffing wpers." 

 are harmless. There is a widely prevailing popular belief iu 

 this country that such snakes are very poisonous. 1'te-y are 

 certainly very pugnacious, and if my memory is not iaully, 

 lhave found venom fangs in their ir/mlLs 3n£ Cf th:- 

 noticeable characteristics of these snakes is, that when dis- 

 turbed they emit a hissing sound like an old goose defending 

 her nest or young. I had supposed that the whole snake 

 tribe was divided into two broad classes, the constrictors 



. iiomousones. These, which MissJIopley describes, 



would appear to belong to a third class. 



In shootiu-' partridges (Bob Whites) a tew daj 

 came upon a snake, one of the bird-catching variety, which 

 was almost white, r suppose it bad reeen . 



though it had not the pule blue, opaque eyes which I have 

 observed in them in that condition. 



