FOREST AND STREAM. 



211 



as well think herself on land and have done with it. But 

 the night couldn't pass in perfect quietness, for when the 

 1ide had fallen so much that we careened on to the bilge, 

 I was aroused to explain what it was that was tipping us 

 over backwards, and how her feet had got so much higher 

 than her head. Now, I don't know whether she really- 

 wanted that information aa much as her alarm would have 

 indicated, hut her fears. were soon sufficiently calmed to 

 suggest that we try.and see if the watermelon was ripe 

 white the children were asleep. It was ripe, of course, 

 and such a hole was made in it, that when it was produced 

 at breakfast the children thought some one had been on 

 hoard during the night, and my youngest sailor thought 

 that in future we had better anchor in deep water, so that 

 visitors wouldn't find it so handy to come on board. 

 '[To be continued.] 



For Forest and Straem. 

 MEMORIES OF ALEXANDRIA BAY. 



a 



H, this is the kind of a 'cordial' for a human being 

 to have," said my excursion friend, as he stood 

 hatless and with expanded chest on the dustless balcony of 

 the Thousand Island House, taking in plentiful draughts of 

 pine-scented air between the vowels which compose this 

 agreeable sentence! "This," continued he, stretching out 

 Ins arms as though taking a fresh hold on life, "is more 

 invigorating than the salt breezes of Houlgate or Etretat." 



My friend was an appreciative excursionist. He had 

 dined, sometime during the early heat of summer, across 

 the ocean, at the Champs Etysees, under a vine-covered 

 arbor, and called it "tolerable," although he found that 

 even well trained ivies failed not to send down their usual 

 detachment of flies and spiders. Better still, he had dined 

 in the beautiful gardens of the Bois de Bologne, within 

 hearing of a soft-sounding waterfall and in sight of the 

 Long Champs race course. He visited many charming 

 resorts, both fashionable and unfashionable on the French 

 coast. He had wandered by the sea for hours, and 

 watched dreamily, while the ocean fanned him, the great 

 black ships and the smaller boats with white sails glide in 

 and out like the spirits of good and evil which contend for 

 the mastery of the world. 



As the chariot of the sun rolled down behind the 

 heaving billows, the carriages of men, supplemented 

 with high stepping Arabian steeds, rolled up to these lovely 

 gardens. Expanded nostrils, flashing harness and scarlet 

 ribbons were their accessories, and they in turn were the 

 heralds of infinite witcheries to come, in the train of mu- 

 sic, dancing and moonlight, and of brilliant women with 

 silken dresses, fashioned, one would imagine, to resemble 

 fairies with folded, trailing wings. And, "still 

 betierer,"as the growing grammarian would say, he had 

 clambered the romantic cliffs of Etretat in canvas 

 shoes and picturesque fisherman's cap. He had listened to 

 the beating of the surf as well as to the praises of the 

 artist Alphonse Karr, who "made the place"— that is, in 

 the game sense that the man makes the pie, who praises it 

 —and saw M. Jacques Offenbach, pacing up and down the 

 beach so quietly, compared with his restless appearance when 

 he saw him in Paris. lie had sat in a grove of storm-bent oaks 

 and peered out at the graceful women and children, tumbling 

 in the surf like veritable water-fowls, and felt calm because 

 he had noticed the batteaux de surveillance, with its gay 

 streamers and bunches of flowers, hovering about them 

 like guardian angels. All this had he seen in foreign 

 lands, and more too, and yet, like a sensible and fond na- 

 tive American, he was ready to come back with the "ex- 

 cursion," and pronounced the breezes of the Thousand 

 Islands the best of ail cordials. To thus enchant the minds 

 of traveled men this lovely spot must have a charm exclu- 

 sively its own. Perhaps its chief attraction lies in its se- 

 clusion, for it is not like the suburbs of a great city— such 

 as the Hudson or Etretat might be called — and therefore is 

 not so intermixed and ovcrflooded with city life as to lose 

 its own wild native grace. It is not that string of pearls, 

 one after the other looking just like its neighbor, but the 

 blending of pearls and emeralds, which captivates the 

 connoisseur's eye. The beautiful St. Lawrence might 

 poetically be called the pearly chain which separates us 

 from a foreign power, and the green islands a generous 

 handful of emeralds thrown in. Truly, as Irving's "Ori- 

 ental" says, everything is on a "big scale in America." 

 Here is not one little "Emerald Isle," setting alone in the 

 sea like the Irishman's favorite island, but there 1,800 

 emerald isles, transforming the shining links of lake and 

 river into a chain of unique beauty. 



From the lofty tower of the Thousand Island House, 

 which rises 140 feet above the river's level, with a good 

 field glass you can see miles and miles away, and fol- 

 low its liquid avenues until you are lost in a sense of almost 

 bewildering beauty. "I could sit here for days," said my 

 enthusiastic friend, "and look only upon this." But of 

 course there are two classes who come here. The artistic, 

 who are fond of views, -and the piscatorial, who are fond 

 of "fish." The decided fisherman will go for the waters, 

 and the decided artist will go for the tower. Fortunately, 

 however, there is not so vast a distance between physical 

 and soul enjoyment but that it is possible to have the two 

 harmoniously conjoined. The artistic soul will often enter 

 into the sports of fishing with great zeal, and the fisher, 

 who would not think of clambering up to the tower to 

 catch a view, may be seen glancing shyly ("as a maiden on 

 hep lover") from under .his slouching broadbrim to take 

 note of some form of beauty which is perhaps revealed to 

 him alone. Our friend of the tower entered into fishing 

 enthusiastically, but we noticed one little peculiarity; he 

 very seldom had a bite and never a catch. He leaned over 

 Ihe boat's edge and peered down into the bright green 

 waters for what seemed to us anxious hours. Was he 

 watching the trail of a mascalonge? We held our breath 

 in silence. "Ah," exclaimed he, "this reminds me of the 

 ltussian malachites at the Centennial!" "Is malachites 

 somethinq good to eatf n inquired the Captain innocently. 

 ".No," said I, "we can't diue on malachites, and it is now 

 24 o'clock. Two little black bass will but just stay the 

 pangs of hunger for one. Perhaps those who feast on 

 precious ores are beyond corporeal suffering." ".No, by 

 jovel'' exclaimed the admirer of malachites, "nothing less 

 than a monster can stay my appetite. Have it I must, or 

 perish." For one short half hour all his faculties were 

 bent fish ward. Then the bait was stuck as though a rock 

 had sat down upon it. The Captain went to the rescue, 

 and sure enough, a mascalonge of fine dimensions was soon 

 taken, in, We landed for dinner then,, but the royal fish 



was too fine to be eaten. The Captain was dispatched to 

 beg or buy from the "camp meeting" larder. A moderate 

 allowance of pork and dough nuts was the result; but these 

 dainties flanked with the little black bass and spiced with 

 an Alexandrian appetite, made it a finer dinner then could 

 be bought at the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Everybody knows 

 that to catch a mascalonge is to put an end to all fishing for 

 one day at least, so we wandered the nooks and knolls of 

 the island for a while and then with our precious freight 

 safely wrapped up in an army blanket we rowed back to 

 the Bay. As we came near the landing and saw a group 

 of young men and women and nut brown sailors, and a 

 pair of pretty city girls in fishing hats with pink ribbons, 

 which as yet had seen but slight service, I confess that I 

 felt a pang of jealousy and imagined that my friend's si- 

 lence was the silence of "awful pride." As we made the 

 last stroke an uncommon burst of sunset splendor, flooded 

 the wooded islands, the lovely river, and the tall tower, 

 and new dyed the pink ribbons and bronze faces. My 

 friend stepped on shore, but he forgot the big mascalonge 

 in the army blanket and didn't seem to mind the bright 

 eyes that glanced out from under the freshly trimmed hat. 

 I took up the treasure as carefutly as though it had been a 

 girl baby and laid it down in the midst of an admiring 

 crowd. When the owner was sought for he was found 

 sitting in the sun-gilt tower, and had caught a "splendid 

 view." 



For Forest and Stream. 

 ANTELOPE HUNTING IN KANSAS. 



SHORT time ago I visited Kansas, and there en- 

 joyed the free and noble sport of antelope hunting. 

 I started with a party of three from the little town of 

 Hutchinson, a rapidly growing and business-like place, 

 situated on the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe Railroad. 

 To get to the portion of country abounding in antelope we 

 had to ride about fifty miles south of Hutchinson, that 

 part of the country being rolling prairie, and covered with 

 buffalo grass; good succulent food for the game we were 

 in search of. We had a busy time getting our accoutre- 

 ments together, the principal thing being a large wagon 

 with a heavy team, in which we packed all our camping 

 outfit, provisions, etc. Besides this, two of us had our 

 own horses— myself and my friend Willis, who owned a 

 magnificent Canadian full-blood, veiy spirited and fleet of 

 foot. We all had our rifles (I a Winchester), and also a 

 good fowling piece. 



It was a bright, beautiful morning, when, mounted and 

 fully equipped, we started. Our first camp was made at 

 Castleton, a place consisting of only two or three houses 

 and one school-house. We drove our wagon to a slight 

 elevation on the prairie, which had now become rolling, 

 and made our camp by the side of a beautifully clear and 

 running stream, at which we watered our horses, and 

 lariating them a short distance off on the prairie, we began 

 to prepare our supper. The fire was made of buffalo chips, 

 a name given to dried buffalo dung, and our supper con- 

 sisted of fried pork and gravy, with bread and butter. 

 We were all immensely hungry, and the viands disap- 

 peared rapidly, all washed down with hot coffee. The 

 bright twilight was slowly and surely followed by the in- 

 creasing darkness of night, and by the full moon's silvery 

 light, we rolled ourselves in our blankets and were all soon 

 wrapped in deep slumber. 



Early dawn found us again on our journey. The coun- 

 try we were passing over was beautiful in the extreme, 

 gently undulating swells of bright green prairie, covered 

 with wild flowers of many a varied hue, and the hills re- 

 ceding off to the far horizon, became of a deep violet 

 color against the bright blue sk}"-. The white and bleach- 

 ing bones of buffaloes lay scattered here and there, and 

 numerous night hawks would flutter up and fly on before; 

 or the prairie chicken, frightened by the tramp of horses 

 feet, spring upon wing, and be borne away by swift and 

 steady pinions to some lone and sequestered spot. Having 

 reached a little ridge of laud, from which we had a view 

 over the plains for miles, I noticed far over on an adjoin- 

 ing hill a spot against the sky; I asked Willis for the glass, 

 and sure enough there was an antelope; "An antelope?" 

 they all exclaimed. "Let us have a peep at him!" and 

 so the glass was passed around until all were satisfied that 

 he was too far off to pursue, so we again started .on. I 

 dismounted from my horse to give him rest, hitched him 

 to the team and jumped into the wagon. Just as we 

 rounded an adjoining knoll an antelope jumped up from 

 the grass about 100 yards ahead of us, and made off to 

 the right. "Hold up your horses," I said, "and I'll try a 

 shot." I threw my rifle forward, rested it on one of the 

 boy's shoulders and fired. The antelope gave a quick 

 bound, fell forward on his fore, knees, remained in that 

 position for an instant, then rolled over on his side, dead. 

 "Good shot!" the boys yelled. It was my first antelope, 

 and I felt proud. It was a fine buck, and I preserved the 

 horns. 



That night we camped on a high' bluff overlooking a 

 sparkling stream, and then by the gleaming fire's light en- 

 joyed the juicy and delightful flavor of the steaks of my 

 first antelope. Toward night-fall the mosquitoes became 

 so thick and troublesome that we had to build smudges to 

 drive them off, then lying down on oar blankets in the 

 trail of the smoke, we were soon in a sound slumber. At 

 daybreak, as Ed and I started to gather some chips, I 

 noticed a couple of antelope feeding a short distance from 

 camp, near the top of a high bank — a capital opportunity 

 for a fine shot; marking the spot on the bank which I must 

 reach, I started rifle in hand down the bluff into the valley, 

 then crouching stealthily along I forced my way through 

 the tall reeds of an adjoining watercourse until opposfte 

 the desired place, when falling flat I began cautiously to 

 crawl up the bank, my heart beating like a drum all the 

 while. Gaining the top I peered above the grass, and 

 there were two of them within twenty yards of me; one 

 with head erect and breast towards me was looking steadily 

 in my direction, while the other wss quietly feeding, pre- 

 senting a splendid broadside; throwing my rifle gently for- 

 ward,! took careful aim and fired; a loud report followed, 

 and when the smoke cleared away I beheld my game prone 

 upon the ground, rolling, kicking and bellowing at a great 

 rate; the other, startled at the report, fled like the wind, I 

 gave him a parting shot, but it was of no use; he ran some 

 distance, then stopped, turned around, and watched my 

 further proceeding's. Tsoon quieted my beauty, for beau- 

 ty he certainly was, by cutting his throat; then we skinned 

 him and took the hindquarters into camp, It is needless 

 to say that during our one week's camping out we aU 



thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, not only killing antelope, 

 but ducks and geese of various kinds which fly from slough 

 to slough o'er the beautiful and rolling pranies of Kansas. 



John L. Petrie. 



FISH CULTURE AT THE AQUARIUM. 



The apparatus in use in the Aquarium for fish culture, is 

 of the latest and most approved pattern, and consists 

 of a large wooden reservoir divided lengthwise by a parti- 

 tion, in which are placed frames covered with a woolen 

 screen which filters the water before it passes over the 

 eggs. The hatching troughs, five in number, are placed 

 with their heads abutting the reservoir and are supplied 

 by brass cocks. In the troughs are placed frames covered 

 with wire cloth, which, with the wood work, and in fact 

 every part that the water comes in contact with, is coated 

 with coal tar, which not only keeps the wire from rusting, 

 but also prevents the jelly-like sap that always appears in 

 new pine wood when under water, from exuding, while it 

 also is a barrier to any vegetable growth upon it. 



The eggs are laid upon these wire screens, of which sev- 

 eral layers can be used in each trough, thus increasing 

 their capacity. Only two troughs are in use at present, 

 and are filled'with the ova of the California salmon, which 

 were presented by Prof. 8. F. Baird, the Commissioner on 

 Fisheries for the United States. They were obtained from 

 his salmon breeding ranch on the McCloud River, Califor- 

 nia, in charge of Mr. Stone, the Deputy Commissioner. 

 This variety of salmon is called by Naturalist's the Salmo 

 Quiunat, and from its being capable of passing through 

 water that in summer reaches a temperature of 80 degrees 

 Farenheit on its annual migration from the sea to its fresh 

 water breeding grounds above, and which would kill its 

 congenor of the Atlantic coast, is more valuable than the 

 latter for stocking all our rivers south of the Connecticut. 

 Many millions of the eggs have been taken, hatched and 

 distributed by Professor Baird in the past two years, but 

 as it requires three years for this fish to reach maturity and 

 return to the place where it was deposited, it is too soon to 

 see the results yet, though many young have been caught 

 during the first year that they remain in fresh water. 



The eggs are obtained from the living fish by pressure of 

 the hand upon the abdomen, and such is the delicacy of 

 touch and knowledge of condition acquired by an expert 

 that a fish is seldonTkilled by them, and Mr. Mather states 

 that he has taken eggs from the same trout for five years in 

 succession without injury to them. After the eggs are 

 taken in a pan that has "been merely wet, a male fish is 

 manipulated in the same manner over the eggs, and in a 

 few minutes after the addition of a little water, the fecun- 

 dation is complete and the ova is placed in a trough, where 

 it remains for three or four weeks, until the eyes can be 

 distinctly seen and all the uuirnpregnated ones picked out, 

 when they are packed in a box with a layer of fine, living 

 moss, and a layer of eggs alternately until full — this box 

 is then packed in a crate of hay or box of sawdust to keep 

 it from changes of temperature and sent by express to any 

 part of the world. The eggs of the California salmon are 

 thelargest now handled by fish culturists, measuring nearly 

 one-third of an inch in diameter, and as the eggs of any 

 fish average about one size for each species, they are meas- 

 ured to find the number of thousands taken. 



It takes from forty to sixty days to hatch a salmon egg, 

 according to the temperature; a high one, say 70 degrees, 

 hatching very quickly bui leaving the fish weak. The 

 best temperature is that of the spring water in which they 

 are laid, perhaps, from 45 to 50 degrees. After hatching, 

 the yolk of the egg remains attached to the abdomen for 

 about thirty days, and at first is so large that the little 

 embryo cannot swim with it, but it is gradually absorbed, 

 and when all taken up the salmon takes food lor the fiist 

 time. This rule is good for all the varieties of salmon and 

 trout. Some fish, as the whilefish and shad, can swim as 

 soon as hatched, although the sac is attached in the same 

 manner. 



Later in the season the other troughs will be occupied by 

 the Land-locked salmon from Maine, a fresh water variety", 

 the lake trout, the brook trout and the whitefish; these are 

 all winter-spawning fish and hatch slowly on the trays. 

 Shad eggs require an entirely different treatment, which 

 will be explained in a future number of the journal. It is 

 the intention of the Manager of the Aquarium to stock 

 some of the rivers with the fish hatched here, thus making 

 it a useful as well as instructive, and a valuable adjunct to 

 the Fish Commission, and to this end he has engaged the 

 services of the well-known fish culturist, Mr. Fred Mather, 

 to superintend this Department, for which he is well quali- 

 fied by his long experience as a breeder of trout for a long 

 period at Honeoye Falls, N. Y., and his work of salmon 

 and shad hatching for the past three years for the Virginia 

 and United States Fish Commissions. 



This is one of the most interesting features of the Aqua- 

 rium, both to the Naturalist, the Lmbryologist, and ihe 

 casual visitor. The newly-hatched fish is so transparent 

 that the beating of the he-art and circulation of the blood 

 can be seen with the naked eje, and the development 

 from the embryo to the perfect fish observed from day to 

 day, and a wonderful translormation it is, for at first the 

 little creature is as unlike the parent fish as a tad-pole is 

 unlike a frog; the mouth whiou. at first is only fitted to pass 

 water to the gills is changed so as to take food, and the 

 embryonic fin which, rising in the middle of the back, 

 runs around the tail to the anal fin, is absorbed, leaving 

 the true fins more and more distinct each day. A few 

 years ago Professor Agassiz discovered that the salmon 

 had a second heart situated in its tail which was most 

 visible at the third day and disappeared about the tenth. — 

 Aquarium Journal. ' 



■ «& »■ $» " — — — — 



Sea Water in the Ac^uakium.— The new Aquarium 

 journal tells us how the tanks of the New York Aquarium 

 are supplied with sea water. It says that a steamer is con- 

 stantly and solely engaged in bringing in sea water from 

 beyond Sandy Hook. This steamer is fitted out with 

 special pumps, storage tanks, etc., and yet when obtained 

 the water can only be brought on the steamer to the dock; 

 from thence it is conveyed to the Aquarium reservoir in 

 portable tanks. At this point it may be stated thafTn 

 spite of all these precautions the sea water has yet to be 

 filtered and aerated before it becomes perfectly clear. J^est 

 an inexperienced, visitor might murmur at tUe lag& of per^ 



