96 



RECREATION 



Can you advise me where I can obtain 

 domesticated quail? I have an ideal place 

 for a small flock. These beautiful useful 

 farmer's friends are almost extinct in this 

 locality. 



Wishing success to Recreation, 



C. J. Stahly, Middleburg, Ind. 



AN ANTLERED DOE 



Editor Recreation : 



I enclose you an item that I thought, per- 

 haps, would interest your readers — the kill- 

 ing of a doe having a horn. 



At this date, November 30, we are re- 

 joicing in a heavy snow fall and deer hunt- 

 ing is good in the mountains. 



J. S. Nash, Spokane, Wash. 



WARDNER, Idaho, Nov. 29.— A full-grown doe 

 deer, with a fully developed prong growing from its 

 head was recently killed near Kingston by Thomas 

 Holland. The prong is about five inches long and 

 grew from the head a short space above its right eye. 

 Another peculiar circumstance connected with the 

 curiosity is that the prong was in velvet when the 

 c*eer was killed. Mr. Holland, while hunting deer 

 on the north fork of the Cceur d'Alene River, 

 chanced upon a herd of three deer and succeeded in 

 killing two. One was a big, five-prong buck and the 

 other was the freak doe. Judging from the size of 

 the latter it must have been three or four years old. 

 Deer slayers in this section say they never before 

 saw or heard of a doe deer with a horn. _ Dr. C. R. 

 Mowery obtained the head and is having it mounted 

 at Spokane. 



FLIGHT OF WHITE OWLS 



There has <been an unusual flight of 

 Arctic owls along the Atlantic coast. Dur- 

 ing November and the early part of Decem- 

 ber reports reached us from Maine, New 

 Hampshire, Massachusetts and Long Island 

 telling of the abundance of these birds as 

 compared with the number seen during or- 

 dinary winters. 



This probably means a failure of the food 

 supply further north, and we should like to 

 hear from our correspondents in Newfound- 

 land and Quebec as to their opinions upon 

 this subject. What has happened up in the 

 Far North to drive such an unusual num- 

 ber of Arctic owls south to New England 

 and New York State? 



AN ISLAND IN THE AIR 



Ernest Ingersoll's book, "An Island in the 

 Air," is aptly named and is extremely en- 

 joyable because of its peculiar plot. 



The heroes of the stories are such bright, 

 real, live people that you feel as though they 

 were really human, and not merely a creation 

 of the imagination. When one reads of the 



hardships and losses which came to the Man- 

 ning family when 'they journeyed, as emi- 

 grants, to California, in 1853, one feels a real 

 sympathy for all the party and a keen inter- 

 est in what the future holds in store for the 

 young Manning fellows and their bright, 

 womanly sisters. 



How the young people of the party go 

 ahead to find a trail for their parents and 

 the servants, and how they are overtaken by 

 a severe Western storm, the horses fright- 

 ened and lost and the wagon almost upset, 

 is thrilling enough for any adventure-loving 

 youth. 



To give away just what this island in the 

 air is would be to spoil part of the enjoy- 

 ment of this most excellent book, and to those 

 who want to know how Andy Manning and 

 his sisters were lost for a long time from 

 their parents, and how they were helped by 

 an old Indian named Whalpi, and at last, by 

 much planning, joined the rest of the party, 

 we would advise reading this interesting vol- 

 ume. The book is well illustrated by W. A. 

 McCullough. Published by the M'acmillan 

 Company; price, $1.50. 



WINTER NIGHT 

 BY STACY E. BAKER. 



Bereaved, the trees mourn for their children 

 leaves ; 

 Pale snow-tombs mark the summer flower 



graves, 

 And Boreas and all his monk-wind slaves 

 Chant aves the long night through; a white 



moon weaves 

 Fantastic shadows, and a wan sky grieves, 

 And weeps ghost rain to icy architraves. 

 . . . Barbaric clad, the Storm King and 

 his braves 

 Shrill out: "Adone with truces and re- 

 prieves !•" 

 Snow-bound, the dryad bides within her 

 tree, 

 Dreaming of spring, and all the lure of 

 fields 

 Spun gay with buds. The vikings of the 

 air, 

 Outside, rush forth to battle to the glee 

 Of rolling drum, and madding fife; their 

 shields 

 Breaking the spears of woody warriors 

 there. 



