"Feb. 16, 1882.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



49 



obloquy thrown upon him. Knowing the purchaser, and 

 believing that from his "whole tenor of life, general character, 

 and political bins he would be a very unlikely person to 

 either do a wrong thing or run counter to the liberal ten- 

 dencies of the age, I asked him td tell me the real faql 

 and learned that' the farm in question had ruiued tenant 



the neighboring farmers, who, of all men. considering the 

 competition in Scotland for farms, had a right to complain, 

 had thanked my friend for ' 'afforest ing" the estate and so 

 removing temptation to inevitable ruin from before their eyes! 

 The direct purpose, then, of shooting is to stimulate what 

 may lie called concentrated labor. This is, labor in propor- 

 tion to previous enforced physical inaction; that physical 

 inaction having been a necessity under prolonged intellectual 

 exertion, or otherwise under the conditions of high and 

 advancing civilization. To write on the immediate effect on 

 the human system is uncalled for. No one denies the hone- 

 tits; they are" plain and self-evident as affecting the body. 

 The appetite arid digestion gradually improve; and although 

 I have avoided any of those references to the proper cooking 

 of game usually made in books on shooting, yet through all 

 time a hunter's or sportsman's appetite has been taken as a 

 matter of course, and as his due reward. Twenty-three hun- 

 dred years ago Euripides wrote — 



'Tis pleasant when the chase Is o'ev 



At tables full to feast galore. 



The effect upon the mind from my stand-point, as bearing 

 upon man in a highly-civilized state, 'is of prime importance. 

 Harking back to Benvenuto Cellini, we find these words — 

 "My spirits suddenly revived. I had no longer my Usual 

 gloom." Why, he probably could not himself explain; but 

 he recorded what modern science can better account for, and 



MIGRATORY QUAIL. 



IN Mr. Tobey's communication, published in Forest and 

 IjTke.vm of Feb. 91 b, be mentions Orange, N. J., as 

 having received two hundred migratory quail; 



i i ia ■■, be interes! ing to your readers to know that the two 



and learned that the rami in question had ruined tenant huudre d quail in quesHoii wvre delivered in Orange in cx- 

 nfter tenant; that it was quite unsuited ior profitable f .,. !]| . nl ^ 3 that 011( . hundred of them were forwarded 



pasture; and that, at the time of the purchase, several of 



to and liberated at Bridgehampton, Long Island. The other 

 hundred were turned out on the farm of Henry I). Oliphant, 

 Esq., on the western slope of Orange Mountain. 



Those turned out on Orange Mountain, so far as I know, 

 have not since been seen, but those which were liberated in 

 various parts of Bridgehampton by my friend Mr. John A. 

 Sand ford, were frequently seen during last summer, and in 

 two or three instances young broods were observed. 



It will be interesting* to know whether the birds return 

 next spring, and I hope that any of your readers who may 

 hereafter observe them, either in the vicinity of West Orange 

 or in the vicinity of Bridgehampton, will communicate the 

 fact to you for publication. E. E. Q. 



Or.ukiV.. N. J.. Feb. 9. 



The letters in this week's issue of Foukst and Stream 

 from Mr. Tobey and Mr. Smith about migratory quail I have 

 read with much interest, and am sure thai I can, in the name 

 of many readers of your paper, thank them for the informa- 

 tion given. 



The facts given by Mr. Smith in regard to birds planted in 

 Maine are very gratifying. Evidence that they have returned 

 and bred seems conclusive, and should encourage us to keep 

 on with the good work. 



Our own experiment here in Springfield, Mass. , so far as 

 we have been able to learn, has as yet borne no fruit. For 

 myself, I have never lost faith that sometime the birds we had 

 put out, or some, of their family, would return; but I must 



impenetri 

 and rich meadow. 



imp 



We 



ave them a toss in the air and hade 



morality of field sports), took much interest m the fact that, , tim< Not kuowina; their habits and the kind of count 

 under the stimulus of shooting, a melancholic cloud will pass ; most suHnhle> we selected a locality about seven miles from 

 away from the mind so inMmta-n<mis^ as only to he likened , the dt _ wnerc within a half-mile circle they could find dry 

 to rapidly drawing up a curiam and letting bright light into | pastures, wet snipe ground, thick wheat, wheat and rvestub- 

 a dark room. This probably arises jrom the balancing at We impenetrable swamps, running brooks, mountain side 

 that precise moment of the excretory action of the liver and 

 lungs, and so a most mysterious phenomenon may be 

 accounted for. I only refer to this phenomenon as a proof 

 of what great general beneficial action must, he going on in 

 all cases, and by no means; require to narrow up my argu- 

 ment into any speciality. I choose one remarkable illustra- 

 tion without disparagement to other 

 remarkable although less striking. It m 

 glace to mention, however, merely as a fact 



desire my readers to reflect, that in all probability almost written. n'Jso "thaUhev WeUr&rth Out oFtV^hand'ukeli^- 

 the whole Protean forms of what are termed! ''nervous , w ma Mng a straighfflisrht two or three feet from the ground 

 of (he lungs to consume, j fm . a distance of from twenty to fifty yard; 



them go; go forth from bondage, into the bright world, get 



fat, raise families and come hack to us. Not to "go West," 



as that was where they killed little birds, put them in barrels 



like, herring and sent them across the ocean; but to stay with 



I us; we would he good to them, give them fire-crackers on the 



lults probably as j fourth of July and fill their stockings with skates at Christ- 



- n< ? . . , ° ?. I mas. Your kennel editor was present, and as active as any 



on which I would I on( , m ( y s work f emancipation, and will verify what I have 



irobabibtv almost ui ~i tx.„* n,„„ „, <• e — n. „..<- „c-n,„ -u„^j iru t — 1 



diseases'' arise from the inability i 



literally burn up, the fuel provided by the liver, Hence 

 bile accumulates and invades the brain itself. This 

 produces "melancholy," literally "black bile," and it is 

 remarkable that the ancients should thus so truthfully 

 realize the. disease in its verbal designation, although the 

 malady seems mental, while the designation is physical. Un- 

 til recently the liver was supposed to throw off only a small 

 quantity of bile" daily, to he utilized in the alimentary canal. 

 But modern 



The newspapers here had heralded their coming and noted 

 the arrival, cautioned gunners about killing them and re- 

 quested them to report any discovery of nests or young 

 broods. No secret was made of the locality; residents in the 

 vicinity took much interest in the matter and frequently re- 

 ported' seeing through the summer single birds and groups; 

 but not a nest was found. An old Frenchman living close 

 by, who had known and eaten the birds in the old country, 



But modern research proves that the daily secretion of bile took the greatest interest in their welfare. The fact that he 

 amounts to no less than tliree-and-a.-halJ pounds 1 he liyer described the birds so accurately as to size, form and plumage 

 excretes this bile and a ho tat and hydrated starch, all which h( , fo] ,, W( . had see n them, satisfied us of his honesty ; and when 

 finally become the fuel which provides us with heat. I do 1 he saw , llem ho wna most delighted. He looked upon them 

 not pretend to define this exactly or scientifically, but take | , )S friml s from home, and at the report of a (run in theneigh- 

 my facts from the most distinguished authorities. If tic , borhood would lay down his hoe and tind the shooter and itt- 

 furuace, the lungs will not, througn want, of exercise or other f ona him that city men had put some quail out there and 

 causes, consume this fuel, the effects are disastrous. So little th mU8t not come to harm. Two of us stopped at his house 

 was the function of the liver understood, or this quantity of one J da y when he led up one of his children and told us how 

 Me duly estimated, hat it was thought on any occasion of hc had wh ipped him the day before for throwing a stick at 

 disorder quite enough to carry off a htt e extra quantity ot it 1 one of the birdfe and getting'excited he shook his hand in the 

 by the use of mercury or other drugs. How trifling the benefit , itt](: , Mlow - s face audtolfl him lie would kill him if he ever 



!° lu Av»K ei ^J „r iIi™nL* 3 ] "^n L^J*?* 55f* ! mm oae of the little birds - 0ne . day in August I stopped to 



see the old man, and he was radiant with pleasure. He had 

 seen some "leetle quail — three of them;" and he pointed out 

 the knoll, not fifty rods from his house. Starting for the 

 place designated, 1 soon saw my dog at a point in the exact 

 spot he had marked. As I came; up to him and stood looking 

 the ground over, up jumped a little fellow from among the 

 running berry vines, and, in an instant, two more, not larger 

 than spaixpws, flew perhaps thirty feet into the weeds; and 

 though, by aid of the dog's nose, I followed them, I could not 

 make them rise again. 

 In the first week in November of this year a market shooter, 



of the fifty-six ounces of bile daily secreted, only about tw 

 are used in the alimentary canal! In the accumulation of bile 

 having in many cases its sole and genuine remedy in pro- 

 longed severe labor, under a stimulus demanded by the very 

 nature of the case, lassitude hei rig its invariable concomitant, we 

 have the complete proof of the correctness of the Duke of 

 Argyll's reasoning — that instinct guides to results far beyond 

 its immediate promplings. A healthy boy ardently desires to 

 fire a gun at a rabbit. This is the same instinct which later 

 in life may be the means of reinvigorating his jaded energies. 

 I have specially referred to "nervous diseases," because these 



may most assured y be_ termed the great general malady ot , about tlllre ini]cs S0llth of where thc bi ;. ds were put out , was 

 the age. Every physician knows this; and the art of healing | cross j ng a st „| lblp fleM wllen bj „i, commenced to fly, and be- 

 is daily more and more resolving itself into less of drugging i fo „, ]lf r k new what They were, he had killed three or four of 



and more of directing the patient in his diet and exercise. 

 "Have you a billiard table?" asked a. Loudon physician some 

 two years ago, of one consulting him, "No."* "Then gel 

 one, and play for two hours every night, before going to bed. 

 That will bring you Sleep, and do you more good than all the 

 drugs in the pharmacopoeia." Tin's, with some good advice 

 on diet, was the" Bole prescription: and never was a guinea 

 more profitably expended! 



In concluding these remarks I would desire to say that I 

 have no wish to strain my argument, or to elevate its subject 

 into undue import ance. Every good thing is good in its own 

 place. But boastful attempts are being unceasingly made to 

 prove to be wicked what. I believe to be a wise arrangement 

 of Providence to preserve the vigor of the human race," and I 

 am quite content to leave my arguments to the judgment, not 

 of sportsmen only, but of 'all interested in the welfare of 

 mankind. 



A High Old Elk. — New York marketmen are agitated 

 over a proposed city ordinance, providing that the poultry 

 and game sold in the markets must be drawn. There has 

 been some lively correspondence on the subject in the /->'"/*, 

 in the course of which one Writer tells about an ancient elk: 

 "At the same place there was half the carcass of an ell. . 

 which became us familiar a landmark as the City Hall. Day 

 after day the glassy eye looked out on pedestrians. I used t'o 

 speculate on the history of that animal. Imagination ran 

 him hack to the woods 6f Maine or Canada, and I exhausted 

 Daboll in calculating the days, weeks and months that had in- 

 tervened since he was knocked over, the hands he had passed 

 through, and wondered whether the people were still alive 

 that had eaten the other half Of him. But one day I missed 

 him. He was gone. Somebody probably had made an offer. 

 I looked over the deaths for a day or two" to see whether there 

 had been any increase." 



them. They proved to be migratory quail, and, to use his own 

 expression, "there was lots of 'eui there." They may have 

 been our birds congregated for flight, or, perhaps, they came 

 from further north. I was surprised at their being found at 

 this time, supposing that they had left us in September. This 

 man told me he didn't want any more; they were so fat and 

 greasy that he couldn't eat them, wdiiolvfaet would go to show 

 they found feed enough. 



The following summer (1879) no end of reports came to us 

 of the birds' haying been seen; and led us on many a "wild 

 goose chase." Farmers would come in to say that they had 

 seen one or more in their meadow, when investigation would 

 prove then) to be our native quail, meadow lark or upland 

 plover. One man came in to inform us that there were some 

 on his place; he knew all kinds of bird-', was sure of it, and 

 after looking at a stuffed Specimen was still more sure, said 

 he saw iliein every day, and could have killed seven of them 

 in a bunch that morning. After assuring him that he would 

 have no trouble from the law and would be well paid for his 

 time if lie. would kill one and bring it to us, he went off say- 

 ing we would sec him before to-morrow noon. Alas! il was 

 like so many of t he to-morrows. We have never heard from him 

 since. Still another man that: shoots, and whom we supposed 

 knew all birds, was sure a pair was nest ing in his mowing, He 

 had seen the migratory quail before they were put out, and 

 thinking this a sure case, with a friend and two dogs (or call 

 it with three friends) we Went out. and worked the meadow 

 carefully. Much to the gentleman's dismay we found noth- 

 ing, lie has since told me he never saw them again. In 

 August of 1879, three of us with five dogs spent half a. day 

 looking over the country, and separating, covered a good deal 

 of ground, but did not get a scent. 



The year 1880 developed nothing; none were seen: at least 

 wc had no account of any. Last year, some time in August, 

 one of the birds was lei't by a stage driver with one of our 

 taxidermists to be mounted, Here surely was evidence, we 



thought, and hopes were raised that, they had returned. 



The bird was a genuine migratory quail, but either through 

 the man's ignorance, or professed ignorance, in fear of the 

 law, (it being the close season) not much could he learned. 

 I n fact we did not try to follow it up after being assured by 

 the taxidermist that, "the bird's wings and feet gave evidence 

 of having been caged for a long time, and no mark of it hav- 

 ing been killed. 



This brings me to the present time, 1882, the point where I 

 intended to begin this letter, and though the idea is not 

 original, perhaps the advice would lie good in this case, 

 begin to read here, skip what has been written. 



As many clubs as well as individuals, will soon receive in- 

 voices of these birds, I want to submit for consideration 

 the policy of holding them over and liberating as early 

 thc following year as the season will allow. It has occurred 

 to me that they, being captured on the way to breeding 

 grounds, are probably very near the mating season, and the 

 two months or more required for shipment and the journey 

 may carry them past it. They are planted here and live con- 

 tentedly 'until the season tells them to go— and they go. 

 Where? perhaps to sea. They make long flights across the. 

 water in their native land, possibly they try it here. It is the 

 progeny of these that are to he our birds; and it is for our- 

 selves "to study how we can attain best results in this direc- 

 tion. I feci that the birds we liberated have not returned, 

 and that they did not breed to any extent, and in making the 

 statement I feel it my duty to show r that we have made every 

 possible endeavor to ascertain facts in the. case, that the birds 

 were a fine lot to start with, that we used our best, judgment. 

 in locating them, and that they were watched over with 

 fatherly care. 



I trust no one will construe this letter into my trying to 

 discourage the importation. Far be it from my intention. 

 I believe it a glorious work, and here we propose to keep on 

 with it; and with at least a. part of those which we get this 

 season, we shall try the experiment, of keeping through until 

 (lie spring of 1883. If any correspondent can suggest a 

 better plan I trust they will advance, it at once. 



Wm. M. Williams. 



Springfield, Mass. 



THE OLD GROUSE OF BARNEY'S SWAMP. 



THE following is. a little experience that I had in my 

 younger days in trying to dowm a flying grouse. 



"Come, old boy, I have a job for you, If you think that you 

 can kill a partridge on the wing," exclaimed George D., as 

 he bounded into my room one evening. "I have been 

 chasing him half the" afternoon, and have fired at him half 

 a dozen times and have not raffled a feather: It was down 

 in old Barney's swamp that I started him, and he would 

 go from there down the ravine to the meadow and then 

 hack again. I followed him until dark, and Jack and I 

 left in disgust. Will you go with me in the morning and 

 help floor him?" Of course I would, and that settled it. 

 George, went home to wash out his old single-barrel muzzle- 

 loader. He was my trusted companion in" hunting, and we 

 had been fast friends from boyhood, and between us there 

 existed a kind of friendly rivalry in wing-shooting. We had 

 been ' 'getting up practice" all summer, ami numerous black- 

 birds, chimney swallows, blucjays, etc., had come to grief 

 thereby, when they happened to fly over within range. 

 George had an 8-bore gun, and the barrel was short; it 

 would throw shot well, but would make a tremendous racket 

 and kick like a mule. I had a double-barrel, muzzle-loading, 

 IB-gauge, light bird gun that shot indifferently, and some- 

 times both barrels would go when I intended to have only 

 one. 



Next morning bright and early George came along, and 

 with him came Jack, his half-brok'cn bird dog. Jack would 

 find a bird if there, was any around, and would point it as 

 well as any dog, hut as soon as the bird was flushed he would 

 chase it and yell (well, perhaps there was "music" in it, but 

 I never heard it), but if it was wounded he would catch it . 

 and bring it in so carefully that lie would hardly ruffle a 

 feather. ~ We started for Barney's swamp. It was a bright 

 frosty morning in October, just the kind of a morning to set 

 the blood a-bounding through a fellow's -veins and tone up 

 the nerves — one of those mornings that we would select if 

 we were going to have one made to order. The fields were 

 white with frost, and as the millions of diamonds sparkled 

 upon their surface, they formed a lovely contrast with the 

 variegated colors of the autumn leaves ; and the maples, as 

 the king of day showered his dazzling light upon them, 

 seemed to be capped with a crimson crown and clothed in a 

 garb of golden glory; and — and — nonsense, you know what 

 such a morningls yourself, But it was "that old cock part- 

 ridge" and not the maples that wc were after. Having 

 crossed thc last field we stopped and loaded up. George 

 turned out what looked to me to be tin enormous quantity of 

 powder and shot, and with huge wads of old newspaper corn 

 pleted the operation of loading his cannon. _ I had joked him 

 a great deal about his artillery, but he said that he would 

 show me before night what that " field piece " would do. 

 And he did. We had gone but a short distance when, 

 near the edge of a "sprout lot," Jack came to a point. 

 George and I walked up just in front of him, and up went 

 a. flock of about fifteen quail. When 'about, twenty-five, 

 yards distant we hoth fired at nearly the same time; the 

 air was full of feathers, and clown went four of them. I 

 singled out one that started off to the left, and with, the left 

 barrel brought him down. Away went Jack and retrieved 

 them all, one. at a time. That dog was rifijht in his glory 

 then, the rear part of him was vibrating at the. rate of about 

 twenty beats per second, and his tail was whipping our booi 

 legs as if to congratulate, us on our success! "We loaded 

 up again with No. 8, and soon reached the swamp where 

 George had left the old ruffed grouse thc night before. He 

 was the bird that we wanted, so we did not follow the quail. 

 There was a knoll at the edge of thc swamp and on ii grev 

 some pine, trees. George said that we Should probably Jifia 

 our bird somewhere, in that vicinity, and scut Jack in. * Sure 

 enough, thc dog had not gone more than three rods before he 

 was as "stiff as a cart stake." George told me to go around 

 and flush the bird and to drive him toward the meadow if 

 possible. I obeyed orders and walked up on him, All of ■ > 

 sudden he had pressing business elsewhere, and as he scooted 

 out through the pines I gave him right and left and called to 

 Georgeto "Mark!" Theonlyreply was the terrific roar of that 

 old 8-gauge, and the partridge went down the. ravine toward 

 the meadow just as he didtheday before, and we loaded again 

 and started after him, Jack carefully working over "the 

 ground. We had gone about, half way down wheti we heard 

 a commotion in the alders, and soon out came a big black cat 

 with Jack in hot pursuit. George wheeled his battery into 

 line, " unlimbered, " and as it belched forth fire, smoke, old 

 paper and two ounces of lead, his feline majesty bounded 



