Jan. 81, 1884.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



near there. Coming to a heavy undergrowth on the bank of 

 the creek, just beyond wheic" it enters the lowlands, again 

 Billy is tied to the fence, and we plunge into the almost impene- 

 trable brush. Just to the left, beyond that big log, is the 

 object of our search. A bout twelve feet from the ground, in 

 that slender box-elder, we see a nest, looking for all the 

 world like au overgrown nest of the turtle dove, and above 

 it we see the eye and the long bill of the mother bird. It is 

 but a moment's work to mount the tree, and, as we do so, 

 the flapping wings and long, dangling legs of the bird as she 

 leaves show her to be the green heron {Ardtxt. viresccns). 

 This we knew before, for ahead v we have taken six eggs 

 from this nest, four on the 7th day of May, two more on 

 May 25, and to-day, June 4, we find three inore, which we 

 carefully number and place in our basket, for in this locality 

 the nests of the green heron are not found every day. This 

 makes nine eggs added to our collection from this one nest. 

 They are of a beautif ul pea-green color, about the same 

 shape at either end, and are an inch and three-eighths in 

 length and one and one-eighth in breadth. The nest we 

 carefully leave, expecting to get a dozen more eggs from it 

 at least, and then add both nest and bird to our collection; 

 but counting eggs before they are laid is the next thing to 

 counting chickens before they are hatched . 



Again the notes of the wood thrush greet our ears, and 

 again we search for the nest, and in doing so find two nests 

 of the cardinal grosbeak in alder bushes. They are just 

 completed, apparently, and their location is carefully noted 

 in our field book, to be looked after in the future. 



That long-tailed bird that just flitted by us is another 

 yellow-billed cuckoo. Wilson says that the nest of this 

 bird is usually fixed among the horizontal branches of an 

 apple tree; sometimes in a solitary thorn crab, or cedar, in 

 some retired part of the woods. The eggs are greenish blue. 

 The only nest of this bird 1 ever found was in the top of a 

 low tree overspread with a grape vine, and as many of these 

 are near us forthwith we examine them hoping to find a nest 

 of this species. See, there is something in the top of this 

 one. We shake the vine that scrambles over the tree, and 

 out hounds a fox squirrel (8. magnicans&aius). Striking flat on 

 the ground, he bounds away, with Birdie at his heels, Pete 

 refusing to ''chase fur." 



But now it is near night, and we have one other locality to 

 visit. In the lowlands beyond the sandridge the redwing 

 blackbirds [Afft lu'ti % phc&n&c&iig) are, or ought to be, nesting. 

 Our faithful Billy soon carries us there, and the first sound 

 that greets us is the eon-eur-ree-e-e of the redwing, as he rises 

 and falls with the wind on a swaying reed in the marsh. In 

 a few minutes Billy carries us to the middle of the swamp, 

 for the mud is not deep, and all about us are the nests 

 attacked by their sides to the weeds and grasses, and in them 

 are the beautiful marbled eggs of this species. We take the 

 first, containing four as pretty eggs as ever gladdened the 

 eye of the oologist, and then another, and another, until our 

 arms are full. T?iding ashore we deposit our treasures, and 

 wading in, we collect more, until want of carrying space 

 cries "hold, enough." 



And now with our collecting basket packed with eggs, 

 and another great basket full of nests, we start for home, 

 fully satisfied with our day's work, and only regretting that 

 we did not take our breech-loader with us, in which case 

 some of the feathered beauties that complained so bitterly of 

 our robbery would add their beauty to our case of birds. As 

 we ride slowly home, thinking of loved ones, our heart is glad- 

 dened by the clear ringing "Bob White" of the quail from 

 the neighboring wieatnelds, and we remember that last 

 summer, while attending the meeting of the American As- 

 sociation at Cincinnati, amid the noise of the city, we were 

 suddenly greeted with the same "Bob White" in one of the 

 busiest streets, when looking overhead we saw our familiar 

 bird in a cage at a negro woman's window. But we are 

 home again. Billy is fed, we have disposed of a fine spring 

 chicken, our ornithological treasures are spread out on the 

 table iu my study. To-night will bring us "balmy sleep, " 

 and to-morrow we will go to our briefs and law points again, 

 just as if we never inhaled the country air, laden with the 

 perfume of clover blossoms, just as if our hearts had never 

 been gladdened by the coo-coo of the rain crow or the song 

 of the wood thrush, 



FOOD FOR THE BIRDS. 



IT is the "off season." Very off. Out of season for man, 

 beast or bird. It is an exceptional season. Sitting 

 here, in my little back-woods den, I see the snow come 

 down, hour after hour, until past midnight. Then comes 

 a dash of rain. It lasts half an hour. Next, a light, feathery 

 snow , and a sudden drop that sends the thermometer to 1 0° 

 below zero. Then seven successive mornings in which the 

 mercury ranges from 4° to 11° below, and another snow- 

 storm, ended by a sudden rain of two hours, topped off with 

 a light snow. Two heavy falls of snow, each with a crust, 

 and a light tracking snow on top. 



It is not a bad winter for game._ There is no ice-glaze on 

 the trees to starve the grouse. IN o hound can run on this 

 double crust, but hares can. The fox laughs at the hound; 

 also the rabbit and hare. It is a rough season for beasts 

 and birds of prey. 



A horned owl, the Canada owl, came into my barn last 

 night and collared my last game hen. I heard the row, and 

 jumped out into two feet of snow in my stockings. As he 

 was heavily sailing off with his prey I took a snap shot and 

 he dropped the hen, but went off to the dense hemlocks to 

 the eastward all the same. As we counted seven shotholes 

 in the hen, we are afraid he will not come back. 



A family of muskrats come into my orchard nightly on 

 the chances of rotten apples. I do better by them." I have 

 bushels of apples in the cellar that are slowly decaying. I 

 take these out and empty them where rabbits and muskrats 

 can easily and safely reach them. It amuses Mrs. N. and 

 me to sit by the window and see them work, carrying off 

 the worthless apples in the dim moonlight. Then we have 

 chickadees, chickarees, bluejays and woodpeckers. We 

 feed them faithfully, even the little blue-grey nuthatch. We 

 hang liver, pluck, kidneys and suet in the trees, and we 

 couple up ears of corn with twine and toss them into the 

 tops of apple trees for the bluejays and chickarees. We are 

 so far and a trifle lonely. A little amuses us. Nessmuk. 

 Wellsboro, Pa. 



An Albino Teal.— I saw an albino duck to-day— a 

 green-winged teal. It was caught in a net with others and 

 preserved alive. On Christmas "Day it was sent as a present 

 to the Biarket-man, and is now confined in a cage — as tame 

 and fearless as any domestic duck. It is not pure white, 

 but a light ashen gray, save a dark spot on each wing.— 

 W.N. B. (Denver, Col, Dec, 37, 18o3). 



CALIFORNIA QUAIL IN CONFINEMENT. 



\ BOUT a year ago there was presented to a lady here, a 

 IX pair of California quail. By exercising a great deal 

 of care, and paying the birds daily attention, she has kept 

 them in perfect condition and plumage. 



They originally came from New Mexico, being brought 

 here by a gentleman on his homeward journey. Their 

 traveling companions was a pair of mockingbirds, who died 

 shortly after their arrival, but the quail, seemingly liking 

 the change in climate, flourished. 



Their present home is a very large cage. Each morning 

 the bottom is covered with fresh earth, in which the birds 

 delight to bathe and wallow, much after the fashion of a 

 chicken. 



At first they were very wild, all attempts io quiet their 

 fears proving ineffectual, but as time went by, they gradu- 

 ally lost their shyness, till now they are as gentle as they 

 were wild at first. ' They are perfectly happy and contented, 

 enjoying each other's society as much as they would in their 

 natural haunts. 



Their diet consists solely of wheat, with greens given every 

 now and then, as a relish. 



One peculiar feature regarding these birds is, that during 

 their captivity they have never been seen to bathe in water, 

 although the 'sand bath is a daily performance. They have 

 made no effort to breed. Nemo (of Texas). 



Franklin, Jan. 26, 18fi4. 



Not a Beak.— A Berwick, Pa., correspondent informs us 

 that the telegraphic report (quoted in Mr. Litchfield's article 

 two weeks ago), stating that a man had been killed by a bear 

 near Retreat Station, Pa., was incorrect. The tracks were 

 made by the bare feet of the man, and were at first supposed 

 to have been the traces of a bear. This only illustrates the 

 unreliability of the average newspaper bear stories. The 

 rest of Mr. Litchfield's paper, however, commends itself as 

 a plain, unvarnished tale of actual experiences, and may be 

 accepted as a valuable addition to the authentic records of 

 the grizzly's ways. 



A Fixe Rough-Leg. — It is rare that a really fine specimen 

 of the black hawk variety of rough legged hawk (ArcMbuteo 

 lagopuK tancti-joha/iJUM) is captured. There is now a beauti- 

 ful specimen of this tine bird in the shop of Mr. O. B. Deane, 

 taxidermist, Springfield, Mass. , that was taken at Northamp- 

 ton. There is hardly a feather on him of other color than 

 pure black. The meadows about Northampton abound with 

 this species more than of any other, the mottled variety I 

 mean, and I think no less than fifty in various plumages 

 have been taken during the past few years. — W. A. 

 Stearns. 



Maine Wes t tek Birds?— Vinalhaven, Me., Jan. 24.— I saw 

 several robins yesterday; they were feeding on the snow 

 among some tall grass. My curiosity prompted me to in- 

 vestigation, and on repairing to their dining room found 

 they were feeding on small spiders. The spiders seemed to 

 be lively, and I supposed they came out of the bunches of 

 grass. Temperature at the time 42° F. Saw a crow black- 

 bird about a week ago, also a golden-winged woodpecker. 

 Is it not rare to see them in this far north country during 

 such extreme cold weather?— Medicus IT. 



Albino Ruffed Grouse. —Somerset, Pa.— Mr. George H. 

 Tayman has received a full-grown, pure white, pink-eyed 

 partridge, or pheasant, as they call it here. It was shot near 

 Oakland, a summer resort on the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, 

 about thirty-five miles from this place. — W. V. T. 



■amp S x n 



f 8. 



"That reminds me." 



97. 



MANY, many years ago, I was a youngster and semi-at- 

 tached to a command of our country's brave defenders, 

 who did duty along the Gulf coast. I was fond of a gun, as 

 what boy is not? Upon one occasion a small detachment of 

 our command was encamped upon a small grassy island off 

 the coast of Texas. It was plentifully stocked with deer and 

 the easiest way to get them was for the hunter to bury him- 

 self in the sand and wait for them to come within range. 

 One day I borrowed a gun from the engineer, and set out 

 on a deer hunt by myself. Proceeding about three miles 1 

 sighted the game, picketed my horse, crept up as near as I 

 could safely, scooped out a hole in the sand and covered 

 myself up, all except head and arms, completing the "blind" 

 by some tufts of grass I had plucked for the purpose. The 

 deer were feeding quietly but approached my hiding place 

 very slowly. The sand was warm and comfortable, and 

 without a thought I dropped asleep. When I awoke, the 

 sun was just going down and deer were feeding all around 

 me at short range. Cautiously taking up the gun which lay 

 in front of me, I got ready for a shot. Then I concluded 

 that I might as well get two or three deer and waited for a 

 string of them to get in line. At length a splendid buck and 

 two does came in range and I cut loose. 



When I again awoke the stars were shining. There was 

 a peculiar feeling about my face, and upon putting up my 

 hand I found it was caused by a thick covering of blood 

 that flowed from a long deep gash in my forehead. Under 

 my hand lay the butt of the gun stock. I dug myself out of 

 the sand, and feeling around in the grass, I picked up a 

 piece of gun barrel about eighteen inches long and split open 

 through most of its length. Wearily making my way to 

 where the horse had been left I found him gone and con- 

 tinued the pilgrimage on foot to the camp. 



The next morning I laid the relics before the engineer with 



the remark, "Mr. , here's your gun -two of them I might 



say." "Yes, yes, but what's the matter with it?" "That's 

 just what 1 would like to know," 1 replied. He looked it 

 over again and then asked, "Did you load it?" "No, sir; I 

 supposed it was loaded when I borrowed it, and I still think 

 it was." Then he called "Sam." An ebony chattel belong- 

 ing to him and of about my own age responded. "Sam, did 

 you load my gun?" "Ye-yes-yes, massa, me load 'm." 

 "How did you load it?" "I-I-I "jes put in a heapin' handful 

 of powder, massa." "Then what?" "Then I jes put in four 

 big bullets an' pounded 'em down with a iron ramrod as far 

 as they'd go, but they wouldn't go clean down." 



Then I went back to the scene of the hunt to gather up 

 the slaughtered deer, but none were to be seen, nor was there 



either blood or hair to suggest a tragedy except around the 

 sand hole where I had taken my nap, and they had never 

 belonged to a deer. Dodgers. 



Gone to Florida. 



98. 



Story 67 of "Camp-Fire Flickerings" reminds me of one I 

 have either read or heard told. An elderly darkey, coming 

 home one winter's evening with rather more benzine than 

 ought to be carried at one load, took up his position before 

 the old-fashioned fire-place. Putting the heel of one boot 

 upon the toe of the other he proceeded to warm his feet and 

 in so doing fell asleep. On awakening his first glance was 

 directed to his boots. With a half drunken leer he said, 

 "Stan' aside dhar sonny an' let yer poo' ole fodder warm bis- 

 self." Just then the top foot fell to the floor, and with a 

 "tank ye chile, tank ye; I'll award ye," he resumed his nap. 



Millard. 



Cheyenne, Wyo. 



99. 



In your ' 'Talk" you say that Cuvier.with a single bone could 

 reconstruct, or at least said he could, the animal from which 

 the bone was taken. That reminds me of an occurrence in 

 this place a good many years ago. One day an alarm was 

 sent out that a bear had crossed some open lots on the out 

 skirts of the village. All the little, and big, and old and 

 young hunters started out to hunt that bear. The stories 

 which were told at the post-office and stores by the returned 

 hunters in the evening were remarkable. None had seen the 

 bear, but a good many came very near seeing it. At last 

 Gus, the oldest hunter and greatest prevaricator in this 

 region, came in. All turned to him to hear his report. "Well, 

 Gus, did you get a shot at the bear?" was asked." "No, I 

 did not get a shot at him, but I saw him and he weighed 400 

 pounds, I am sure!" he replied. "Why iu the world didn't 

 you shoot him ?" they all asked. "Well, you see, I could 

 only see a spot of him about the size of my hand, and I 

 wanted to get a better view of him and he disappeared in the 

 bushes. H. 



JEFVBRSOtr, Ohio. 



fmqt §xg m\i 



CHILL DAYS IN NORTH CAROLINA. 



The wind it blew, 

 And then it snew, 

 And then it thew, 

 And then it friz.— Anonymous 



IT was my purpose on Friday, the 4th of January, 1884, 

 to get my friend Teceel, with bis two dogs, Nip and Joe 

 (the latter a young black and tan setter, recently sent him 

 by Calvin Pembertou, of Arkansaw), and go on the Monday 

 following to the old Leak plantation, at the confluence of 

 Little River with the Pee Dee, to pay our respects to the 

 birds, which are abundant at that locality. I had written 

 to my philosophic kinsman, Crickett, who lives on the west 

 side of the river, to listen for our guns in the afternoon, and 

 it he heard them to make his appearance that night at the hos- 

 pitable house of a gentleman whose kindness and that of his 

 family I have often enjoyed, and the next day we w r 0uld go 

 up to Toney's Ford, where he could get an opportunity to 

 redeem his character, which was somewhat imperilled at 

 that place on a former occasion. He had announced his 

 purpose to join us, provided he could get some gunpowder 

 and wads with which to load his shells. For his supplies of 

 all kinds in this line he generally looks to me, and though his 

 guardian ("ad litem" will do in this case) I find it somewhat 

 difficult to provide for his adequate support, owing to his 

 constant shooting at anything which can fly or run. My 

 own shells were ready. I did not doubt that we should 

 have several days of capital sport, for I knew game was 

 plenty enough to afford it, and I had great confidence in the 

 foresight of the weather prophets, who had assured us of an 

 exceedingly mild winler. 



On Saturday, the 5th, though the morning looked a little 

 gloomy, I supposed it was only premonitory of a gentle rain, 

 and that when Monday came the ground would be dry, and 

 the sky clear — a bright sun making the atmosphere quite as 

 pleasant as could be desired. So, taking a broken umbrella 

 — the only one which the familiarity of my friends has left 

 me — and leaving my overcoat at home, I collected my letters 

 and went down to my office to transact such business as my 

 position imposes upon me, and get all things ready, so as to 

 enable me to be absent for several days. The wind was 

 blowing somewhat keenly from the north, to be sure, but I 

 took it that the temperature was not likely to become colder. 

 I had not been seated at my desk very long before the gentle- 

 man who has charge of the construction of a stone dam for 

 the mill came in and told me that he was apprehensive he 

 should be obliged to stop work, for the snow was beginning 

 to fall. I looked out and saw that the flakes were falling 

 rapidly then upon the pond, "a moment white, then gone 

 forever," but the others lay and accumulated upon the 

 ground. When I returned to my home the whole earth was 

 covered with the white mantle for the depth of over an inch, 

 and there was no abatement of tne fury of the storm. The 

 thermometer indicated a falling temperature, and next morn- 

 ing the mercury showed 1° above zero. This is rare with 

 us. On the 20th of January, 1857, the register was 3° below, 

 but never since then, until Sunday morning, the 6th of 

 January, 1884, have we had so cold a time by several de- 

 grees. They who are accustomed to a more rigorous lati- 

 tude must not smile at the shivering of one who complains 

 when the mercury sinks in the tube only 30" below the 

 freezing point. It is now too cold for any comfort. 



IBy the way, the phrase "cold comfort" used by King 

 John when, because of a burning fever which raged within 

 him, he wanted all the rivers of his kingdom to flow through 

 him, "and comfort bim with cold" (Act V. Scene VII.) has 

 no very agreeable significance when "the winter thrusts his 

 icy fingers in our maws."] 



It was but little while after reaching my house, kicking 

 the dry snow from ray boots, entering the door and coming 

 before a blazing fire, that I reached the conclusion that the 

 proposed hunt for Bob White must be abandoned for a more 

 congenial occasion. And thus that trip was not taken. 



But about ten days before that time, Jim LeG. and I. 

 with my son whom I call Durable, with our dogs, and a 

 young man named Rill Wobbins, who was going to visit his 

 sister, drove up to the plantation before named, which is 

 about fifteen miles northwest of the place where I live. I 

 started with only 118 shells, supposing that Dumble would 

 not wapt more than thirty-eight, and I could use the others 



