230 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
basin, and through which you can look as you sit within your 
bay window or upon your rustic seat in the garden corner. 
Now for your decorations.. . Ther e are the plants tJrafr 
love the water, and I have elready told told you what they 
should be. You may add to them, if you please, for the 
tall piece of rock work almost any variety of hardy creep¬ 
ers, or half hardy creepers will do quite as well, such as 
lophospermums, Maurandia canariensis, and the different 
kinds of pessurnable. At the base on the outer circle you 
will perceive why I do not care to have the rim next the 
lawn even and smooth. This is the place for your sedums, 
saxifrage, etc. Wild sedums from the woods, mouse ear, 
and house leek make a fine variety for this outer circle, 
while the broad, awry leaf of the calladium esculentino 
and hardy wood pines give you an almost oriental splen¬ 
dor in your little aquaria in the garden. Do not forget to 
place in pots concealed with moss one or two fine thrifty 
plants of the cardinalis. 
Leaving you to work out according to your own taste the 
above beautiful plan, which you can easily do, I will only 
suggest the attachment of the water jet to the end of your 
lead pipe to give you a complete fountain within your gar¬ 
den. This may be of any device you may choose to pay 
for, from a simple stream of water to a tulip jet or wheel, 
all of which may be regulated by individual good taste and 
a full purse. - _ Ollipod Quill. 
iituml ^jiistorg. 
For Forest and Stream. 
THE BLUE GROUSE. 
T HE blue grouse, pine grouse, dusky grouse, or Rocky 
Mountain {Tetrao obscurus ), is in many respects 
the finest of the grouse family. Its flesh is almost entirely 
white; as much so as the ruffed grouse ( Tetrao umbellus ), or 
the quail ( Ortyx Virginianus ), and has a peculiar tenderness 
and flavor.* The breast is^’emarkably full, and the whole 
body compact and plump. The feathering is close and 
thick, wings and tail short and square, the latter a beautiful 
fan when spread, like that of the ruffed grouse, which in 
fact it closely resembles except in size and color. Its food 
and habits are nearly the same, consisting of insects and 
the berries and seeds of the pine cone, the leaves of the 
pines, the buds of trees, etc. It has also the same habits 
of budding in the trees during deep snows as the ruffed 
grouse that are so often shot while thus engaged on winter 
moonlight nights in the orchards of New England. With 
the blue grouse, however, this habit of remaining and feed¬ 
ing in the trees is more decided and constant, and in winter 
they will fly from tree to tree and’ often be plenty in the 
pines when not a track can be found in the snow. If a 
trail ends it is time to begin to look in the trees, and look 
sharp, too, for it takes keen and practiced eyes to find them 
in the thick branches of the pines. They do not squat and 
lie closely on a limb like the quail, but stand up, perfectly 
still and would readily be mistaken for a knot or a broken 
limb. If they move at all it is to take flight, and with a 
sudden whirr they are away, and must be looked for in an¬ 
other tree top. I have sometimes shot perhaps half a dozen 
times with a rifle at the same bird, aiming at the head to 
avoid tearing the flesh, but there would be no sign of mo¬ 
tion unless bit. Where there are several upon the same 
tree, if the lowest is first shot the others are not disturbed, 
and may be picked off one by one; but if an upper one 
falls past them they are instantly off. This, too, is a pecu¬ 
liarity of the ruffed grouse. In autumn, when nearly or 
quite grown, and the pack are unbroken, if met with in 
open ground they lie well before a dog, and furnish excel¬ 
lent sport. When flushed, their flight is swift and straight, 
and they are easily shot, but if timber is near they are sure 
to make for it, and when in the trees a setting shot is the 
only sure one. Should they fly a single glimpse through 
the thick pine branches would probably give the only 
chance, and a hit would be nearly an accident. 
I had a settei’that, by long practice, acquired a wonder¬ 
ful sagacity in hunting them. He had learned their habit 
of staying in the trees, and when he detected the scent in 
the air its condition would soon satisfy him that they were 
in the trees instead of upon the ground. He would then 
begin to toss his nose upward, and circle rapidly till he had 
settled upon their whereabouts, and then come to a firm 
stand, with eyes and nose directed to the tree tops. Of 
course the precise locality of the game would be uncertain, 
but they were sure to be in the neighborhood, and he would 
sometimes rigidly maintain his point for ten or fifteen min¬ 
utes while a search was made, and if it proved fruitless 
from the closeness of the pine branches, and he was called 
away, lie left very unwillingly. In such cases I was sure 
he was right, and the bird would be often found on a re¬ 
search. Of course it was only where the pine groves were 
orchard like, with no undergrowth, that this style of hunt¬ 
ing could be practiced. In common with the ruffed grouse, 
packs have a habit of scattering in winter, two or three, or 
even a single bird, being often found with no others in the 
vicinity, their habit of feeding in the trees tending to sepa¬ 
rate them. The size of the blue grouse is nearly twice that 
or the ruffed grouse, a full grown bird weighing from three 
*What a pity we have not distinctive popular names of our native 
name birds. The ruffed. grouse is called “partridge in New England 
and New York, and “pheasant” in the Middle, Western and. Southern 
States. Our choice litile Bob White, who, in spite of all his enemies, 
will remain and increase as cultivation widens, for he loves the field bet¬ 
ter than the forest, is called “quail” in the northeast and quail and 
“nartridge” indiscriminately in other portions of the country; and yet 
each are = entirely different from the pheasant, partridge and quail ot 
Eurone. To be understood, we are obliged to describe each with an 
a&as arid after all be incorrect, and sure to mislead a foreigner. Is it 
too late to remedy the confusion? The scientific names are too long and 
law cracking for common use. If we could find some old short Indian 
names with comfortable vowel sounds, it might be worth whiie to make 
an effort. 
to four pounds. Its plumage is very beautiful; indeed, 
that of the male in winter and spring is perfectly magnifi¬ 
cent. The feathers are very thick, and upon the neck, 
back, and wings a lustrous blue black, glistening like satin. 
Beneath the color is a dusky brown, but whitish under the 
throat, the legs fully clad, and the feathering extending 
into the toes. It seems fitly dressed to endure the rigor of 
its habitat, which is probably the Rocky Mountain country 
only, and in the pine forests from five to ten thousand feet 
above the level of the sea. The latter height is generally 
about the snow line in these regions, and at this latter ele¬ 
vation is found the ptarmigan {Tetrao leucurus ), rarely seen 
because his home is rarely visited. Although the weather 
in the mountains is often mild and pleasant in winter, and 
especially healthy and agreeable from the dryness and 
purity of the atmosphere, yet the cold is sometimes intense, 
and here to prove and illustrate I will give a fact and an 
incident. 
At Fort Laramie, which is at the base of the Rocky 
Mountains, and scarcely 5,000 feet above the ocean, in 
January, 1864, mercury froze for four nights in succession, 
and o.n the night of the 5th it remained frozen for fifteen 
hours. In the morning, while the mercury was still asleep 
in the thermometer, I was witness to an experiment tried 
on the surgeon’s sanitary whiskey, which somewhat low¬ 
ered its previous high reputation. A small quantity was 
set outside in a tin cup for about twenty minutes, when it 
was found sufficiently solid to fly into icy fragments when 
thrown against the walk. True, it had been wagoned 
across the plains, where the dry atmosphere, dry teamsters, 
and the waters of the Platte may have affected its quantity 
and quality, as is said sometimes to happen, but this is only 
conjecture. I merely give our analysis b}^ temperature. 
But to return to our Tetrao obscurus. The nests are upon 
the ground, usually well hidden in a thicket, and the broods 
about one third larger than those of the sage hen, generally 
from twelve to fifteen in number. This is about the same 
as the ruffed grouse, to which I liavfe so often likened it in 
this paper. 
I have never met the blue grouse where pines did not 
abound, and have found them most numerous in the Black 
Hills from Laramie Peak to Long’s Peak, in the North 
Park, on Medicine Bow Butte, a beautiful, isolated moun¬ 
tain a little north of the Union Pacific Railroad, with Fort 
Halleck at its foot, rising some two thousand feet above the 
railroad level, where eight or ten years ago elk, bear, and 
mountain lion (panthers) were abundant in the forest, and 
antelope and mountain sheep were numerous in the sur¬ 
rounding plains and rocky bluffs. I have also met them in 
the timbered foot hills on both sides of the Wind River 
Mountains, and no doubt they are to be found in the pine 
forests and groves of all the mountain region from the 
South Park north into the British possessions. 
It would be interesting to test the acclimatization of this 
beautiful bird in the pine forests of the east. Though too 
wild and shy to be domesticated, it is not more so than the 
ruffed grouse, and if protected I see no reason why it 
should not live and thrive in any pine lands where the lat¬ 
ter bird is found. Its present habitat is so vast, and much 
of it so inaccessible, that its numbers are not likely to be 
lessened by sportsmen, and its natural winged and four 
footed enemies will be as much or more exposed to destruc¬ 
tion by man, so that we may look upon it as a permanency 
in its present home, and since the mountain passes are be¬ 
coming threaded willi railroads, and miners, herders, and 
other settlers are scattering through the country, it will be 
far easier than formerly to secure and transport live birds 
or their eggs. It is to be hoped the experiment will be 
tried. _ Veteran. 
SORA IN MAY. 
Editor Forest and Streami- 
How many of our sporting friends are there who have seen a Rail, or 
Sora (Rallus Carolinus) in the month of May? 
We were yesterday presented with the accompanying fine specimen by 
Captain H. Wild of Stockport, N. Y. YYm will observe it is in full win¬ 
ter plumage, but below a fair condition in body. It was found on Sun¬ 
day morning, on the bridge crossing the mouth of Kinderhook Creek. 
It evidently in its migratory flight was following up the water course, 
and not being educated in regard to the whereabouts or the resisting 
power of a telegraphic wire, fell a victim to its ignorance. The habits of 
this very singular bird were for years a matter of profound speculation 
among sportsmen, as well as others, even so much so as to be often 
called by the name of the mysterious , whose out-goings and in-comings 
no one knew whereof. Travelling only in the night and rarely seen on 
the wing, even when hard pressed by a dog, until the high tides in the 
fall and the closely pushed boat drives them from their shelter in the 
reeds. They are so near the col# of the dark mud or mire of the shores 
of the creeks, and they run in and out, threading their way through the 
reeds with such skill and swiftness that few are able to swear that the 
wee thing they just caught a glimpse of was a bird, a mouse or a young 
water rat. 
Few, even among sportsmen that are habitually on the marshes, are 
aware of the presence of the thousands of these delicious birds, (save 
perhaps by their incessant cry of crek! crek! when startled by a sudden 
noise) until the seeds of the zizania aquatica upon which they feed com¬ 
mence ripening m the month of August, when all at once the flats are 
alive with them. Then again at the first hard frost they as miraculously 
disappear. Whether “they fold their tents (wings) like the Arabs and si¬ 
lently steal away,” or as the darkies of Maryland, and even some lighter 
colored fodis have asserted, they turn into frogs, from which they orig¬ 
inally came, is a question which we think Captain Wild has emphatically 
settled. In fact we must confess we never really believed the darkie 
theory anyway. Jacobstaff, 
CENTRAL PARK. M ENAGERIE. 
Department of Public Parks, I 
New York. May 17, 1874. ) 
Animal 8 received at Central Park Menagerie for the week ending 
May 16, 1874; 
One Chipping Squirrel, Tamias sitiatus. 
Presented by Miss M. A. 
Andrews. 
One Red-tailed Hawk, Buteo borealis. Presented by Mr. Charles Rein- 
warth. 
One Gray Wolf, Ganis occidentalis. Presented by Mr. Joseph 
Stiner. 
Two horned Toads, Phrynosnoma cornuta. 
Presented by Mr. C. 
Ryan. 
Three Roebucks, cervus capreolus. Hab. Europe. 
One crowned Crane, Balearica pavonina. Hab. West Africa. 
One Coatimundi, JSfasua narica. Hab. South America. 
W. A. Conklin . 
For Forest and Strung 
HYDROPHOBIA-INEFFICIENCY OF 
MUZZLES. 
W ERE it not for the bane of hydrophobia, dogs would 
be generally welcomed in their legitimate place as 
the most faithful and intelligent of the lower animals as 
companions to man. Though the disease of rabies (incor¬ 
rectly termed hydrophobia) is in reality so , rare, it never¬ 
theless has, or may have, an existence, and the fear of so 
terrible a malady excites an infinitude of apprehension am 
tagonistic alike to searching inquiry and to the race which 
is liable to its generation. We wish in this brief article to 
call attention to several of the glaringly erroneous notions 
that from time without a beginning have attached to this 
disease. 
First, is the belief that without any abnormal symptoms 
a dog may be attacked at any moment; that from that mo¬ 
ment he will bite whatever comes within his reach and 
that the virus necessarily inoculates the wound which is 
inflicted upon person or animal. The truth is, however 
that, the disease, like others, has its incipiency, its aegra- 
vated progress, and that the proclivity to bite is a concomi¬ 
tant only of its culmination and last stages. Authentic 
cases are not wanting in which hydrophobous dogs have 
been handled until the last without ever attempting to bite 
the hand that cared for them. 
Whenever the disease has been watched, a manifest 
sickness of never less than two, and generally from four to 
six weeks, has intervened before dangerous evidences re¬ 
vealed themselves. Dreuling at the mouth (not spuming), 
a strangely perverted appetite, the tracing of imaginary 
objects, and a never ceasing restlessness, are among the 
middle symptoms that never deceive. 
It is commonly thought that rabid dogs shrink with hor¬ 
ror from contact with, or even sight of, water. This is 
wholly erroneous, since from actual experiment, in eleven 
cases out of twelve, their thirst seemed positively un¬ 
quenchable. Again, it is believed by many that the rabid 
dog, if unrestrained, will pursue a straight course, snap¬ 
ping at every object within his reach, until death termi¬ 
nates the march. It is the truth, however, that, except 
during the paroxysms of delirium, which seldom continue 
ten minutes at once, he seeks in his agony the most ob¬ 
scure, concealed places. The writer, in his own experience 
with hunting dogs, has witnessed the disease in its every 
stage, and, except during tl:e periods of delirium, the dog 
has never evinced the slightest inclination to bite, and has 
recognized his master as usual. 
Fits, with which young dogs reared in cities are often 
afflicted, are too frequently mistaken for rabies, and this 
has created not only a belief in the prevalence of the dis¬ 
ease, but lias lent a powerful influence in fixing the deep 
prejudice against all dogs which at present pretty generally 
exists. So marked, however, are the differences in the 
symptoms of the two affections, that it is remarkable that 
they should ever be confounded by the most timid and un¬ 
inquiring. Epileptic fits seize a dog without giving a min¬ 
ute’s warning, and are almost always caused by excessive 
heat or excitement. He runs about wildly, staggers, falls 
down, froths at the moutli from constant champing, his 
eyes are sometimes closed, or show only the selerotica, or, 
if open, are dull and vacant. He regains his feet, toddles 
about mechanically, and, as if entirely deprived of sight, 
runs first into one thing and then into another. In rabies 
a dog never runs about without an object. Possessed of 
preternatural strength, he never staggers, never falls, ex¬ 
cept it may be to die. He dreuls at the mouth, but never 
froths (spumes). His eyes are frightfully and strangely 
bright and piercing, and are never wholly or partially 
closed. It gives, as has been stated, a long warning, and 
is more frequent in spring, fall, and winter than in sum- 
mer. ' . 
As, therefore, fits never occur in any stage of rabies, their 
existence is a positive guarantee that the dog is not mad— 
indeed, they are a positive guarantee that the dog is per¬ 
fectly harmless. Thus it will appear, if these facts were 
generally known, the one disease would never be mistaken 
the other, and many valuable dogs’ lives might be spared 
that are now sacrificed to cruelty, ignorance, and supersti- 
tion. 
It is unquestionably well that policemen should be in¬ 
structed at all times to exterminate the useless mongrels 
that drag out a forlorn existence in the street gutters and 
dirt heaps. Deprived of food and drink for lengthened 
periods, alive with vermin, sickened with distemper and 
suffering from every form and variety of disease that dogs 
are heir to, their destruction is, per se, an act of humanity, 
without any reference to hydrophobia whatever. Unless 
inoculated with infectious hiatter from the bites of rabid 
dogs, this malady, according to statistics, standard authors, 
and the experience of all intelligent dog fanciers, never a - 
tacks those which have a moiety of attention paid to t eir 
food, drink and general care. As if the virus of liydropho ia 
were the inspissation of filth, neglect, decay, suffering--t ie 
resultant scum that is finally incubated from this com ma 
tion of horrors—it goads the dog on through tortuous 
stages to the exemption of death that refuses oblivion 
agonies less intense. y] 
The muzzling of dogs is wholly ineffectual to accomp ^ 
the ends sought, since only those are muzzled whic ne J 
generate the disease. There is of late years, among 1 
of northern cities, an earnest and increasing apprecia 
