G84 
Forest and stream. 
the hotel until our return, and arrayed ourselves in flan- 
uel shirts. “ old elo' " and brogans. 'The balance of our 
canning wardrobe was made, into compact bundles, with 
rubber blankets strapped outside to protect them from the 
spray. The Blue Wing was already loaded with our sup¬ 
plies. which were covered with a large tarpaulin. The 
guns, ammunition, flour and sugar were snugly stored 
under the forward deck. Everything being trim and 
ship-shape, I sung out, •* AO aboard,” made sail, bove 
anchor, and the Blue Wing was soon dancing merrily 
over the waves with a fair wind, and bound “ down the 
river.” It was a perfect day. the thermometer about 
70 degrees, and the sun, shining brightly, kissed the glad 
waves as they reared aloft their foaming crests. We 
waved our hats to the boatmen on the pier, who wished 
us "good luck,” and Titusville was soon left astern. 
J. A. Henshall, 
goose on Montauk, is not so easy as he first suppose. And 
the next clay’s experience will fully confirm him in the 
belief.” 
On the 22d of October, there will be sold at East Hamp¬ 
ton, all the land, with the exception of Indian Field and 
the Government property, which will open up this section 
to cultivation, and perhaps settlement, so that if this 
latter calamity will happen, it will inevitably destroy this 
place as a famous game resort. Harhv Hunter. 
THE LAND OF THE MONTAUKS. 
“ There feno country like Montauks’ rude isle, 
Strange are its rolling hills, Its valleys smile, 
its trees, lone dyinir in tlioir ancient place, - 
As if in sorrow l'or a dying race.— 
The golden eye whose sounding pinions wake 
Gn either side the echoes of the lake ; 
The heavy brant and grey duelc, modest drest; 
The painted widgeon with the russet crest. 
Ami teal, light springing through (lie tranquil air. 
] n i lie lirst-possing shades to the stIU lake repair. 
^ J. A. Ayres— “L egends of Montauk.” 
Long Island, though scarcely 115 miles in its greatest 
extent, contains tvithin its hounds many charming pieces 
(if natural scenery. 
It waB my good fortune on a warm day in last August, 
to visit this ultima thule, Montauk, in company with a 
party, who had been sojourning at a pretty hamlet near 
bag Harbor. A sail of live hours brought us to an inlet 
connecting Gardiner’s Bay with one of the largest ponds 
on Long Island, namely. Great Pond. On emerging from 
the inlet into the broad expanse of the pond, one is at 
once impressed with the beautiful vieAV, the shores being 
surrounded with rolling hillsides and dark verdant vales. 
Across the pond on the eastern shore, is the reservation 
or Indian f ield, as it is called ; while south, just peeping 
above the hills, was Third House, or Station's. The three 
farm houses familiarly known as first, Second and Third 
House, which, three and-a-half miles distant from each 
other, and the lighthouse, constitute all thed wellings 
within a radius of sixteen miles. Here is a place 
within half a day’s journey from New York, where 
“far from the maddening crowd’s ignoble strife,” 
one can behold a truly primitive spot." No hand has 
guided the plow through these lonely vales. The 
silence is only broken by the distant murmur of the 
surf, as it breaks heavily on the beach, or perhaps the 
lonely cry of the loon far out on the lake. 
Montauk, of which the extreme end of the peninsula 
alone is recognized on charts by that name, commences 
at the ridge of hills at the east end of Neapeague Beach, 
known as Nonunonack Hills, which extend to the 
hills of Montauk, and is, as its Indian term truly sig¬ 
nifies, a hilly land. The two large ponds or lakes ex¬ 
tending almost aoross the pennisula, are Great and Fort 
Ponds ; there are also three smaller lakes lying east of 
Groat Pond, known as Reed, Money and Oyster Ponds. 
Near fort Pond (or Kongonack Lake, as it was anciently 
called), is the place whore once stood the citadel of the 
sachem, or Wyundanch, or monarch of the Montaukett 
Indians, and was the scene of a mighty conflict between 
them and their allies, the Manhassetts, on one side, and 
tlieii deadly enemies, the Narragansetts, on the other. 
Here was once the home of a large tribe, to whom all 
others ou Long Island paid tribute, now decreased so that 
the}' number only fourteen all told. Stephen Pharoah, 
their last king, died on the 30th of August. He reigned 
over two families, the Pharoahs and the Fowlers. He 
was a noted sportsman, being esteemed the best snipe 
hunter on the peninsula, nor was lie a small pedestrian, 
for it is said that he walked from Great Pond to Brook¬ 
lyn in one day, a distance of 110 miles. The light-house 
stands on Turtle Hill, or Womponomon, as the Indians 
called it, and is 200 feet above the sea. The light is one 
of the most important on our coast. It was erected in 
17U5, at a cost of $22,300, and from its lofty elevation sends 
its friendly warning far out to sea. 
But aside from its geographical and historical features, 
it is a great game resort, hJuail and woodcock are very 
abundant, in season, wild fowl in great numbers resort 
here, from the stately Canada goose, to the ox-eye snipe. 
There are also some red foxes to be seen occasionally in the 
swamps. Fish are abundant in the large ponds, such as 
perch, flounders, eels, etc-; and in the ocean, blue fish and 
iiaas. The mode of fishing for these latter named fish, is 
to stand on the beach and throw a baited line 100 feet 
or more out into the surf; and during our stay a gentle¬ 
man boarding at Statton’s, had the exceeding good 
luck to land a sea bass weighing forty-nine pounds. 
Luring June and July, but few birds are to be found in 
tiiis vicinity ; but towards the close of summer, the plo¬ 
ver tattler's, sandpipers, tmnstones and curlews arrive, 
and shortly after Uieir advent, the teal, followed by other 
early arriving ducks, come to swell the number. But it 
is not lifi October that the Canada goose and brant arrive 
to complete the list. 
Observe what a writer in 1843 says in regard to Great 
Pond as a sportsman’s paradise 
The chief place of resort for the wild geese is the 
Great Pond, which is very commonly known as Goose 
Pond, and a sportsman coming in sight of it for the first 
time, and seeing the geese covering acres of its surface, 
and listening to the uninterrupted music of their honking 
or the loud roar of their wings as the whole throng start 
to flight at once, is a.pt to think that they cannot all es¬ 
cape iiin i. But when he lias started at early dawn, and 
has lain shivering behind the stone wall (which by the 
way, is the original boundary of the Indians’ property, 
and that which they sold to the whites) or on Reed Pond 
beach, and seen veil thousand geese pass into the pond, 
but not one within his reach, and then when at night he 
has seen them all pass out, going precisely where he 
did not expect them, and has wended Ins way back m the 
darkness, cold and hungry, and found that the remainder 
of the company had come in from their several stations 
with the same 'tale, he wifi begin to think that shooting a 
JJa/mvf/ distort}. 
Florida Mosquitoes,— Our vivacious correspondent 
Al. I. Gator, sent us last month an account of the Florida 
mosquitoes which infest the western part of that State, 
The statements of the writer were large—or rather, the 
mosquitoes were large, very large. The account contained 
internal evidences of truthfulness. It was a plain unvar¬ 
nished tale of what we saw no reason to doubt were 
facts. 
The “Forest and Stream’s Mosquito Story,” as our 
friends have been pleased to term it, was immediately 
copied into the daily and weekly papers of the country, 
and some of the party organs at once, by connecting the 
mosquitoes figures with the last Presidential election re¬ 
turns from Florida, attempted to make political capital 
of it. The New York Sun especially, having always 
given much attention to Florida matters, has published 
the testimony of numerous correspondents as to the 
Florida mosquitoes, native corn juice, politicians, canals, 
and railroads. Disclaiming at this point, once and for 
all, any desire to foster the political bearing of th i s ques¬ 
tion. we now revert to the subject simply that as a fact 
(or myth) of natural history, the Florida mosquito may 
be set before our readers in his true person. It behooves 
all intending immigrants and visiting sportsmen to know 
fully what they will be obliged to encounter in this vam¬ 
pire or gnat, whichever it may be. We invite the truth¬ 
ful testimony of correspondents who have personally en¬ 
countered the Florida mosquito in his native fastnesses. 
That we are not seeking to unduly magnify the import¬ 
ance of this matter, will be seen from the following let¬ 
ter : — 
Office of the Commissioner, Bureau of Immigra¬ 
tion, State of Florida— Jacksonville, Sept. tith. — Editor 
Forest and Stream A correspondent in New York sends 
to this office a communication clipped from the Forest and 
Stream, the communication dated from Titusville, Fla., 
Aug. 2. The writer of that article, whoever he may be, has 
either ignorantly or wilfully stated what is not true. I have 
written to Titusville to a friend to know who the “ ro¬ 
mancer ” is, and. with your permission, will send you an 
article on the subject which will be reliable. Dr. Ken- 
worthv (Al. Fresco), your correspondent, has just been 
into tile office, and I gave him the article to read ; he ad¬ 
vised me to write you and say, that he, Dr. Kenworthy, 
had never lost an hour’s sleep in Florida on account of 
mosquitoes, and had suffered more annoyance on the 
shores of Lake Superior from them than in Florida. Or¬ 
dinarily I would not seek to answer such an evident 
“ canard,” but such an article is read and believed by in¬ 
tending immigrants who are deterred from coming here 
Sam. Fairbank, Asst. Com., Bureau of Im„ Fla. 
From the coast of the Carolinas southward to Florida, 
however, is the true home of this bird, and it is here that 
they are extremely abundant. That their manner of lifo 
has not been more carefully studied, is partly due to the 
fact that they.’to a certain extent nocturnal in their habits, 
for they feed only by night. 
Another correspondent, R. H., of Point Pleasant, has 
sent us an account of the capture. He says :— 
Charles B. Davis, of Philadelphia, was fortunate enough 
while staying here a few days ago to shoot a rare bird, in 
this part of the country, at least—the black sea skimmer, 
from the West Indies. The body and wings of the bird 
are a jei black, the legs and bill, which is about an eighth 
of an inch broad and three inches long, the lower being an 
inch longer than the upper (and it is owing to this pecu¬ 
liar formation the bird gets its common name of scissor’s 
bill) are a bright red. The bird has been mounted and 
can now, I believe, be seen at a store-Third street, 
Philadelphia. 
The Florida Galltnule in Connecticut.— While 
rail shooting on the meadows of the Housatonic River in 
Connecticut Sept. 20th, the Natural History editor took a 
specimen of the Florida gahinule ( Gallinula galeata), or, 
as it is usually called in that State, the king rail. The 
bird was a young male, and was preserved. 
This is a Southern species, which, on the seaboard, oc¬ 
curs only casually in New England, though inland it has 
been reported as far north as Canada West and Minne¬ 
sota. We have previously taken one or two specimens in 
the locality from which this last came, and some facts, 
which have recently come to our knowledge, lead us to 
believe that the species is to be found regularly in small 
numbers in Connecticut in the fall. Whether it ever 
breeds, there is at present doubtful. 
The Second Brood of Woodcock.— A correspondent. 
J. W. S., who writes from Bridgeport, Conn., under date 
of Sept. 19th, says 
While out with dog and gun this morning I moved a 
young woodcock just able to fly. I am sure, from ex¬ 
pel ience, that woodcock breed twice, but this must have 
been a third brood, or a very late second. 
We should be disposed to regard the bud as one of the 
second brood, unless we had, more direct evidence on the 
point than our correspondent gives us. It wifi be re¬ 
membered that last summer there was a great deal of 
rain, and some second brood nests unfavorably situated 
might well have been inundated and the eggs destroyed, 
The Black Skimmer in New Jersey. —Philadelphia 
Pa., Sept. lath. —While at Point Pleasant, N. J., this sum¬ 
mer, Mi - . Charles B. Davis, of Philadelphia,, shot a sea 
bird which is pronounced a “ black scissors bill. ’ I 
not this a rare bird on our coast? C. E. P. 
The black skimmer (Ehynchops nigra), for we presume, 
though our correspondent fails to give us any description 
of it, that this is the bird referred to, is not especially 
rare on the New Jersey coast, though this is somewhat 
north of its usual range. It strays even farther occasion¬ 
ally, and we have known of its being taken off New York, 
and Coues gives it as occurring casually in New England, 
Drumming of the Canada Grouse.— Bethel, Maine. 
Sept. 15th, 1879.—1 notice in your issue of September 
11th reference made to the dramming of grouse, and 
especially the Canada grouse, or spruce partridge, and I 
am very glad of the chance to offer my mite to the 
Natural History department of your valuable paper. I 
take great pleasure in reading this department, and find 
many valuable zoological facts described by your many 
interesting correspondents. 
I have followed the occupation of hunting for twenty- 
five years in the northern part of Maine, and am pretty 
familiar with the habits of birds and animals of these 
regions. The-.spruce partridge is quite plentiful in the 
swamps and low lands of these northern countries, and is 
a very pretty bird when in full plumage, especially in the 
months of March and April, when they can easily be ap¬ 
proached, being very nearly as tame as our domestic fowl. 
They are easily captured by a slip-noose on the end of a 
long pole, which can be slipped over the head and quickly 
drawn up. I have made a business of capturing and 
keeping them alive through all seasons of the year, and 
have sold them in pairs to go to ah parts of the country. 
The cock is very finely marked with black ground and 
pure white spots with red lines over the eyes. They are 
about half the size of the ruffed grouse. I have fre¬ 
quently seen them drum, if drumming it can be called. 
They fly up into a tree some ten or fifteen feet, and by 
beating their sides by short, quick, nervous action of the 
wing, jn their ascent, produce a loud sound. They re¬ 
main but a short time in the tree, when they almost nois- 
lessly descend, and very Boon repeat the same operation. 
This they often do when they have one or even two or 
three henB with them. They feed on the tender houghs 
of spruce and fir in winter, and in summer on berries and 
various herbage. I, G. R. 
Destruction of Ruffed Grouse in Connecticut.— 
Waterbury, Conn. —You will be interested to know that 
our worst fears are confirmed, that the wood-ticks [larva 1 
of the partridge fly.—Ed.] are destroying the ruffed 
grouse in Connecticut. A young friend of mine was ex¬ 
ercising his dog in August last, and flushed a brood of 
young chicks just able to fly. He caught one ; and in 
examining the bird lie found seven ticks on the little fel¬ 
low’s head ; one swelled out with blood, to the size of a 
pea. The young pi ail then hunted for the other birds, 
and found five more ; and on all he found from two to 
seven ticks. Since that time he has several times looked 
the locality over to find the birds, but found none but the 
old bird. The destruction of this noble bird is a great 
misfortune to sportsmen. Connecticut lias heretofore 
been famous for numbering its ruffed grouse. "W. 
The Crow Arraigned. —Millersburgh , Dauphin Co.. 
Pa.— In Forest and Stream of Sept, ink your corre¬ 
spondent, W. B., asks the question, Are crows thieves or 
benefactors? W. B. seems to think, “as no doubt many 
others do,” that, upon the whole, crows are benefactors. 
There is not the least doubt that they do gather in many 
hugs and worms; especially is this the case in early 
spring, when Mr. Crow is starved and hungry ; it is then 
that he follows the plough and picks up the insects that 
might possibly prove a bane to the farmers’ crops. This 
is one of the crow’s virtues. He has still other virtues, 
one of which is that he does pick up the dead fish along 
our inland streams, which no doubt is a benefit to both 
crow and humanity. But his virtues amount to very 
little when compared with his faults. Crows will take 
all the eggs they can get; they rob the nests of our quail, 
ruffed grouse, wild turkey, wild pigeon, turtle dove, and 
the nests of small birds coming within their keen and ex¬ 
tended vision. Not only do they take the eggs, hut the 
young birds also. They will take" a brood of young chick¬ 
ens one bv one, and take the young robins out of their 
nests close to human habitation. If the young birds de¬ 
stroyed by a pair of crows while feeding their brood wero 
allowed to live they would destroy more insects in a single 
day than a pair oi crows will destroy in a whole year. 
Why is it the small bird harrasses the crow when he 
comes in sight? Simply because the small bird knows 
him to be a cruel enemy. * As to the damage done by 
crows to the crops, it amounts to nothing. They are 
really not hard to frighten. A dead crow hung upon a 
pole in the corn-field will effectually cause his living rel¬ 
atives to give that field a wide berth. The common 
blackbird will pull up more com than the crow, and no 
amount of effigies or dead relatives will keep him away. 
The above is based upon personal knowledge gained by 
observation, which has brought me to the conclusion to 
shoot or catch all the crows I can, and I -would advise^all 
lovers of game and birds to do likewise, C-X. 
Habits of the Butcher Bird.— We notice in the 
Journal of Science for August a brief, though interest¬ 
ing, article on this subject by Mr. D. M. Marshall. The 
writer gives some account of the nest and eggs of this 
species, and mentions that it breeds near Toledo, O. 
Some interesting factB with regard to the mode of im¬ 
palement of its prey are furnished, and Mr. Marshall 
gives an account of the capture of a garter snake 13 inches 
in length by a shrike. 
