AS IN OLDEN TIMES. 
Some of your items in REcREATION about 
the slaughter of wild ducks remind me of 
old times. I formerly lived on Lake Hu- 
ron at the Northern shore of Saginaw bay, 
and the fishermen there killed vast num- 
bers of wild ducks and gulls. Some of 
the ducks were good to eat, but all had 
good feathers and all ate fish. I have seen 
tons of wild game birds lying dead and 
their feathers sold on the spot for $1 a 
pound. Some of the plumage was exceed- 
ingly beautiful. Many of the skins were 
taken off and sold with the heads and 
wings for millinery purposes. Many of the 
birds were sent to market and some of the 
uneatable ones were used as fish _ bait. 
Some of the birds were, of course, wasted, 
but the fishermen thought it was all right 
to destroy them, as the gulls and ducks ate 
the young fish and made business less in 
prospect for the fishermen. Now the fish- 
ermen and fish; the gulls and ducks, are all 
alike departed, and the shores know them 
no more. Most people think the lumber 
business was the cause of the fish leaving 
the shore, as the refuse from the mills 
fouled the waters. With the fish went the 
gulls and ducks that fed on them, and the 
fishermen turned to other ways of making 
a living or followed the fish to other shores. 
Now the pines are gone and the lumber 
men. 
I wish the shores might be given up to 
forestry. Then the wild things would 
come back and the waste places would be 
glad again. I often recall those times and 
scenes and sigh over the wastefulness of 
mankind! When I lived there deer often 
came out to drink or swim, and when 
pressed by the hounds they would swim 
from one point to another, five miles in a 
straight course. One Sunday morning a 
large stag came on’ shore in our door yard 
and he was so exhausted he lay perfectly 
still several hours before he was able to 
go into the woods. We went up to him 
and put our hands on him. He had beau- 
tiful horns. 
At another time a half grown fawn came 
in and my brothers secured him. They 
built a stockade and kept him a year and 
a half. He grew, and became quite tame. 
We fed him all the grass, hay and vege- 
tables he would eat, and it was in that way 
he met his death, for a small potato rolled 
into his windpipe. My brothers tried to 
help him but it was impossible to get out 
the obstruction and Dexter died. My 

439 
NATURAL HISTORY. 
When abird or a wild animal is killed, that is the end of it. 
its educational and scientific value is multiplied indefinitely. 
If photographed, it may still live and 
brothers had named him for Robert Bon- 
ner’s celebrated trotter, then first intro- 
duced, so by that you can tell how long 
ago it was. 
One night in summer we all sat at the 
supper table and saw 5 deer go by our 
door yard fence on the way to the water. 
It was in the season when they had no 
horns. The big male was first; after him 
were 2 does, 2 fawns and a yearling. They 
went down to the water, got their drink 
and went back to the woods, melting into 
the shadows without a sound. I shall 
never forget how still they were; like 
shadows. 
One night I sat at the chamber window 
enjoying the moonlight and saw a big buck 
on the sand. I did not see him come; all 
at once he stood there. He had a mag- 
nificent set of antlers. Soon does and 
fawns stole out of the underwood and 
slipped one after another into the water; 
I counted 9g of all sizes. The old buck 
stood sentinel till all had drunk and 
washed. When they had stolen away into 
the dark he went like a shadow and drank 
and bathed. Then he, too, vanished like 
a dream. I despair of giving any idea of 
how charming and mysterious it was; but 
it is a picture on memory’s wall and I 
enjoy it as I would a choice painting. 
I know you are in sympathy with all 
this, for your editorial work shows one in 
tune with nature in her wild and unspoiled 
aspects. 
Mrs. H. P. Piper, Lapeer, Mich. 

A NEIGHBORLY SKUNK. 
It was August. George and I had pitched 
our tent, cooked and eaten supper, made 
our beds and at 9 p. m. we turned in. On 
opening my eyes in the morning I found, 
about 4 inches from me, a skunk. When 
he saw I was awake, he turned and scam- 
pered out. We found our pork scattered 
all over the ground. The skunks had 
sampled every piece of it and rolled it in 
the dirt for luck. 
Our tent was too small for comfort, so 
we decided to build a shanty. Three days 
later we had it up. The floor was earth 
and the door was missing. We built 2 
bunks, the bottom one about 6 inches from 
the ground. The first night passed quietly, 
but the second night about 12 o’clock 
George wakened me. Something was making 
a racket near the stove. We got up, George 
lighted a piece of paper, and we looked 
around for the intruder. We found Mr. 
