April 24, 1884.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



243 



"John, would a trout rise to a June bug?" 



"I don't know why they wouldn't; suppose we try." 



A couple of old hats were brought iuto requisition in cap- 

 turing a dozen or so, and, stepping down to the water's edge, 

 one was Hung out into the eddying current. Round and 

 round he spun, theu, catching the edge of the swift current, 

 shot down into the pool below with the velocity of au arrow. 

 Vain were Lis frantic efforts to escape from the surging cur- 

 rent, when the well-known splash and the sudden disappear- 

 ance of the bug decided that a trout would accept a .Tune 

 bug for his dinner. Many went the way of the first, until 

 the Professor, who by this time was worked up into a high 

 pitch of excitement, declared he was going to see what a 

 little investigation with hook, line and June bug might do 

 toward solving the enigma of the size and temper of the 

 fish we had been feeding. 



Banging under the eaves of the piazza were several bait- 

 rods belonging to our host, and some were already rigged out 

 wilb hooks and lines. Seizing one, which gave promise of 

 holding a fisli were we to hook one, a bug was carefully ad- 

 justed. The line had no sinker on, and the bugrcmained on 

 top of the water for some little time, long enough to float 

 down to the spot where his predecessors had disappeared. 

 Splash! and the Professor reeled in the biggest chub it has 

 ever been ray lot to witness; but cheer up, John, there's trout 

 in there; try again. And sure enough there were, for a good 

 half-pounder took the next bug, then another and another, 

 until we had a dozen fine fish, for our experiment had proved 

 a complete success, much to the surprise of our host, who 

 said he knew the trout were in there, for he had often seen 

 them jumping, and laughed at the futile efforts of his guests 

 to catch them. 



At daybreak the writer was up taKing his usual survey of 

 the horizon and making preparations for a good tramp up 

 stream. The air was clear and bracing, laden with the 

 odor of balsam, which grows in great abundance in close 

 proximity to the house. "Old Sol" had not shown himself 

 above the mountain tops 3 r et, but the rays illuminating the 

 mist rising over High Peak gave tokens of his early ap- 

 pearance, the sparkling, foam-flecked waters before me 

 flowed rippling along, lending their melody to the song of 

 the birds; a spring of icy cold water, distilled way up among 

 the clouds and brought down to the dwelling through a series 

 of wooden tubes, poured its crystal waters into a tub half 

 buried in the sand near by — its music lulled me to sleep last 

 night— while ever and anon, from far up the mountain side, 

 came, faintly echoing, the sound of cow bells, as the herd 

 came slowly down, urged at intervals by the sharp barking 

 of the dog Shep, and the maid of the house, Jennie, Avas 

 wending her way with song to meet them; the tall mountains 

 looked down upon the valley in majestic silence, their heavy 

 foliage dense and impenetrable to the eye; a long, slender 

 thread of smoke, slowly curling up from the kitchen chim- 

 ney, and a savory odor of melted butter, with a suspicion of 

 frying trout, permeates the atmosphere. 



As we journey up the stream, we follow the remains of an 

 old bark road, part corduroy, part rock, and part swampy 

 ooze, into which our brogans sink ankle deep, every step, or 

 outline a double row of hob nails in the mud. After journeying 

 some three miles, we came to a small clearing- big enough 

 for its lazy ocenpant and his dozen or more frowsy tow- 

 headed youngsters, whom we accosted for information as to 

 our bearings. He had lived there three years, so he said, 

 and had not been a half mile from the house either way 

 during that time, and he looked it. When we made his 

 acquaintance, he informed us what a bad time he had the 

 night previous, laying both fat "paws" over a corpulent pair 

 of crushed strawberry jeans. 



"Yes, the old 'oman hed made me some pennyr'yl tea, but 

 it did not tech the spot, an says I — Hanner, says I; if some 

 er them York fellers was only to kern along this way, says I. 

 Yes, the pain iz awful, it's bin tremenjis bad; it did let up a 

 leetle this inornin like, but now its cummin back wus en 

 ever.' And the wily old rascal bent over, his face a study 

 of assumed suffering, until finally my companion, taking- 

 compassion on the old fraud, contributed the longed for 

 alembic. We sat there a full half hour and listened to tales 

 of family troubles, bear fights, in which the old rascal pre- 

 tended to have come off victorious, and of how in the winter 

 he went to some trout pond, known only to himself, and 

 cutting holes through the ice, "shoveled em out with a dung 

 fork." To cap the climax the old rascal set his dog on us 

 when we came back that way. 



About half a mile above the house had been a mill pond; 

 the dam had been worn away by frequent freshets, until 

 only a few projecting timbers remained to show where the 

 once pent up waters poured and seethed. The trout, eager 

 to join theircompaniousin the stream above, no longer leaped 

 up in frantic endeavor to surmount the impassable barrier to 

 their progress, and the waters now rushed through a great 

 fissure where the dam had formerly stood and seemed to in- 

 vite a sweep of the rod over its surface. The old mill still 

 stood there, a ghostly relic of former activity, weather 

 beaten, stark and grim'., its wheel dismantled — silent forever. 

 Passing on up stream to the head of the pond (still so called), 

 I quickly adjusted pole and line, and before the Professor 

 had decided which fly to select I was struggling with a one- 

 pounder, which took a coachman dropper almost at the very 

 edge of the old hemlock, whose roots and branches trailing 

 in the water had long afforded him a safe hiding place. I 

 stood on a deposit of pond ooze left by the recent high water, 

 and my footing, to say the least, was very insecure, as I was 

 every second sinking deeper and deeper into the mire. A 

 few yards off was a large rock, if I could only reach that; 

 between the struggling fish and the mire I was badly handi- 

 capped, but making a determined effort I reached the rock 

 and saved my fish. 



Perched on my elevated island I took a survey of my sur- 

 roundings. The water came down a ravine, and entering the 

 pond at an angle, formed a deep pool, at the foot of which I 

 was standing; the Professor had selected his flies, and was 

 moving up toward the head of the pool preparatory to mak- 

 ing a cast, and the very first cast he made caught mv old 

 felt hat on his leader and whirled it far out into the current. 

 He broke the tip of his rod as he did so. Here was a 

 dilemma, which, as experienced fishermen, with the aid of 

 some strong waxed silk, we soon overcame, and securing 

 the hat which had stranded on a projecting point, went on 

 our way rejoicing. Our catch was about forty each, none 

 as large as the one I caught at the old mill, and at 5 P. M. 

 we were glad to avail ourselves of the home comforts at our 

 domicile, whose welcome portal loomed up before us as we 

 cast off leaders and reeled in for the night. 



It is a singular fact that large trout seldom bite from sun- 

 rise to sunset except for about a half hour or so at midday, 

 when the water becoming warmed by the fierce rays of the 

 sun. they will occasionally work out into the stream from 



their hiding places, seeking a cool spot where some spring 

 of water oozes up from the bottom or empties its waters into 

 the stream. One reason why large trout are not more fre- 

 quently caught in the day time is because you can't get your 

 bait where they he hid, for if you do, it will lie frequently taken 

 by him even when he is not on the feed; perhaps he hates to 

 see it waxed, suggests the Professor. 



About a mile up the stream from our house the waters 

 make a sudden bend against the mountainside, the abrupt 

 declivity against which they force themselves, rising hun- 

 dreds feet above the* eddying current, turning the stream 

 almost at right angles to its former course. The surging 

 current had washed a side stream extending back a hundred 

 feet or more alongside the mountain. This was overhung 

 with dense foliage, reaching almost to the water's edge. Being 

 of an investigating turn of mind on this occasion, I made a 

 wide detour, coming in at the head of the side stream where, 

 as I surmised, a spring of very cold water flowed in. 1 care- 

 fully adjusted my flies, and with a deft twist of the wrist, 

 sent them some twenty-five feet below me, past the over- 

 hanging boughs, the flies circling underneath and dropping 

 lightly on the dark water. In justice to myself. I must assexl 

 that 1 took a good many chances on that cast, resting on my 

 knees in the sand so as to expose as little of my body as pos- 

 sible, for if 1 got fast to a bough all further attempts would 

 be useless, as it would have been impossible to get loose- 

 without exposing myself to the gaze of the old settlers, 

 which I felt sure had worked their way up from the pool 

 below to refresh themselves in the cooler water, and subse- 

 quent events showed my judgment correct. My flies went 

 right to the very spot I could have wished; 1 could not do 

 it again in a hundred casts, and t don't know who was the 

 most excited over the result, the wielder of the rod, or the 

 big trout going down tow T ard the pool with ray fly imbedded 

 in his jaw. So soon as I could get onrny feet I plied reel 

 and showed myself to the rest of them; 1 believe every trout 

 who made his home in that pool was "taking a day off," 

 and visiting that binnikill either for my benefit or his own. 

 I could plainly see my trout side by side with one which 

 might have been his grandfather, so much larger was he 

 as they sped along, in fact I could not tell at firs! which of 

 the two was trailing my line after him,, so close were they to- 

 gether; but I quickly brought the smaller of the two up with 

 a short turn and soon had him panting in my basket, his 

 head and tail forming a crescent therein." For the next half 

 hour I might have been mistaken for a sentry on post, so still 

 I sat there, puffing away on my pipe and waiting events. 

 Soon the other big trout came, slowly working his way up 

 the binnikill as if reconnoitering every foot of the way — he 

 did not notice that bunch of old gray tweed on the sand peer 

 ing down upou him with Gager eye through the protecting 

 branches, watching proceedings with such intense interest — 

 whether he was seeking his mate or not I shall never know. 

 He swam up into the shallow water until it barely covered 

 his back, and then 1 began operations; pulling my leader 

 through the rings on my rod I shortened it to about three 

 feet, then poking the rod through the branches, whisked a 

 fly over his nose; fly after fly was tried, then a grasshopper, 

 a worm, everything available, nothing would suit his fastidi- 

 ous palate. After working over him some time, and seeing 

 my efforts were futile, an evil spirit suggested, "You have 

 tried all fair means, try foul." Taking off my leader and 

 cutting off a couple of yards of line, 1 tied it to a branch, 

 then splicing three hooks together attached them to the end 

 of my line. Carefully reaching out, the hooks were placed 

 directly under his jaw", and then I pulled with all my might; 

 and then — and then — well, the branch broke, and a streak of 

 lightning went down that binnikill into the pool with the 

 broken end of my branch bobbing up and down like a pea 

 in a hot skillet, and me dumbfounded and inconsolable. Con- 

 found it! "Serves you right," said a brown thrush over my 

 head. "Serves you right," croaked a frog in the spring. 

 "Serves you right," said i to myself, and I bade adieu to the 

 binnikill, the pool, blasted hopes and blasted luck. 

 [to be concluded.] 



appear to resemble very closely those of the common quail, 

 only slightly modified by the conditions of their environ- 

 ment. "They utter the characteristic call "Bob White," 

 with bold, full notes, and perch on rocks and bushes when 

 calling. They do not appear to be at all a mountain bird, 

 but live on the mesas in the valleys, and possibly in the 

 foothills. Mr. Brown has kindly promised to collect 

 further information about this species, and to advise me of 

 the results of his investigations. Geo. Bird Grinxell. 

 New York, April 22. 



SOUTHERN LIMIT OF QUAIL AND 

 GROUSE. 



Editor Tforest and Strewn: 



In this week's issue I notice under the above heading an 

 account of the supposed occurrence of Bob White (Orty.r 

 vtrfftniunus) and ruffed grouse (Bonam umbdlnx) in Costa 

 Rica. The birds observed by your correspondent were 

 probably Leyland's partridge {Ortyx IsylaMf), and the large- 

 tailed partridge (JDendroHyx iMm w m). The former belongs 

 to the same genus as the Bob White, and while possessing 

 similar habits and notes, is very distinct in plumage. The 

 latter is a large bud, nearly equal to the ruffed grouse in 

 size, and with a somewhat similar, long, broad tail, but be- 

 longs to the partridge, aud not to the grouse, family, the 

 genus being quite peculiar to tropical Ameiiea. 



As to the southern limit of the Bob White and ruffed 

 grouse, 1 would add that the former occurs indigenously in 

 Cuba, and has been naturalized in others of the West Indian 

 islands. On the continent, however, it does not, so far as 

 known, occur south of the Rio Grande, its place being taken 

 in Mexico by allied representatives, but quite distinct species. 

 Of the grouse family no member is known to occur south of 

 the United States and Mexican boundary, the species which 

 has been traced furthest southward being the dusky grouse 

 or "blue grouse" (Vaiatir obsrnra), which is abundant on the 

 higher portions of the White Mountains in Arizona. It is 

 not impossible that both this species and the Rocky Moun- 

 tain race of the ruffed grouse (Boivtm umbcUus umbeUokh.s) 

 may eventually be found on the more elevated parts of the 

 mountains of Central Mexico; but there is little chance of 

 either extending very far over the border. 



The bird fauna of Costa Rica is probably more thoroughly 

 known than that of any other country in tropical America, 

 more than seven hundred species having already been actu- 

 ally taken within the contracted limits of the small republic. 

 The temperate districts of the interior especially have prob- 

 ably been more completely ransacked by the ornithological 

 collectors than any other State in the Union with the excep- 

 tion of Massachusetts, and possibly one or two others of the 

 United States. Therefore, it is not likely that any two birds 

 of the partridge and grouse families can have been over- 

 looked. Robert Ridgwav. 

 U. S. National Miseum, Washington, April 18, 1881 



tatial IQijitotQ. 



A QUAIL NEW TO THE UNITED STATES 

 FAUNA. 



1 THROUGH the kindness of an Arizona correspondent I 

 am enabled to announce the occurrence in that Ter- 

 ritory of Ortyx gmysoni. This species has not hitherto been 

 known as occurring north of the western Mexican boundary. 



Orty.v gi'oywni vras first made known by Mr. George N. 

 Lawrence, in a paper entitled "Descriptions of New Species 

 of American Birds," published in the Annals of the Lyceum 

 of Natural History of New York, Vol. VIII., p. 476, May, 

 1867. The type of the species was collected by Col. A. J. 

 Grayson, and came from Guadalaxara, in Western Mexico. 

 The species bears a general resemblance to the common Bob 

 White, being most like the form Ortyx cirginianu texana. 

 In fact, the females of the two forms are almost indistinguish- 

 able, but the male of gntysoni may easily be recognized by 

 the uniform reddish chestnut of the lower breast and belly. 



For the knowledge of the existence of this form of Ortj/.r 

 in Arizona. I am indebted to the courtesy of Mr. Herbert 

 Brown, of Tucson, who sent me an almost complete skin of 

 a female bird, and portions of the wing, breast and tail of a 

 male. These fragments were submitted to Mr. Robert Ridg- 

 way, of the Smithsonian Institution, who pronounced them 

 undoubtedly Ortyx gmysoni. 



Prom a number of letters received from Mr. Brown on 

 this subject, 1 am enabled to give some details as to the 

 habits of this species, and especially as to its range 

 within the Territory. In the country lying between 

 the Barboquivari range in Arizona, aiid the Gulf 

 coast in Sonora, and more especially between the Bar- 

 boquivari and the Plumosa, this species is quite abundant. 

 In fact, the bird appears to be exceedingly common in 

 Southern Arizona. They are to be found oil the Sonoite, 

 about sixty miles south of Tucson, and perhaps thirty miles 

 north of the Sonora line. Prom the Sonoite Valley they 

 can be found to the west for fully 100 miles, and through a 

 strip of country not less than thirty miles in width within 

 the Territory. Very possibly they may go beyond that both 

 to the eastward and westward. Further observation must 

 settle this point, but over this stretch of country they have 

 been reported. There is some evidence that the northern 

 range of the bird extends somewhat beyond the limits above 

 fixed. I hope before long to receive more definite advices 

 on this point. 



The habits of Ortyx gmysoni, so far as we know them, 



DEER IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 



15V C. H. MEKRIAM, M D. 



[From advance sheets of the Transactions of the Linnean Society of 

 New York.] 



Caridcnx Virginiauu* (Bodd.) Gray. 



COMMON DEER; VIRGTNIA. DEER; RED DEER; AVUtTE- 

 T AILED DEER. 



DEER are at present so abundant iu most parts of the 

 Adirondacks that they outnumber all the other large 

 mammals together, and this' in spite of the fact that during 

 the present century alone, hundreds of them have perished 

 of cold and starvation, hundreds have been killed by wolves 

 and panthers, and thousands by their natural enemy, man. 

 And there is every reason to believe that if proper game laws 

 are enforced, their numbers will not materially decrease. 



This beautiful and graceful animal, by far the fleetest of 

 our mammalia, roams over all parts of the Wilderness, being 

 found high upon the mountain sides, as well as iu the lowest 

 valleys and river bottoms. It frequents alike the densest 

 and most impenetrable thickets, and the open beaver meadows 

 and frontier clearings. During the summer season, which 

 is here meant to apply to the entire period of bare ground, 

 loosely reckoning, from the first of May to the first of No- 

 vember, its food consists of a great variety of herbs, grasses, 

 marsh and aquatic plants, the leaves of many deciduous 

 trees and shrubs, blueberries, blackberries, other fruits that 

 grow within its reach, and largely of the nutritious beech 

 nut. While snow covers the ground, which it commonly 

 does about half the year, the fare is necessarily restricted, 

 and it is forced to subsist chiefly upon the twigs and buds of 

 low deciduous trees and shrubs, the twigs and foliage of the 

 arbor vitre, hemlock and balsam, and a few mosses and 

 lichens. In winters succeeding a good yield of nuts the 

 mast constitutes its staple article of diet, and is obtained by 

 following the beech ridges and pawing up the snow beneath 

 the trees. 



When the first warm winds of approaching spring un- 

 cover here and there in the beaver meadows small spots and 

 narrow strips of ground between the snowdrifts, the new 

 marsh grass is found already sprouted, and its tender 

 blades afford the deer a tempting change from the dry twigs 

 and tough lichens that constitute its winter fare.* 



From this time until the latter part of September much of 

 their sustenauce is procured in the immediate vicinage of 

 water. After the snow has left the forests aud the new vege- 

 tation has fairly started, they gradually work back into the 

 woods, but return again in early June to feed upou niaish 

 plants aud grasses, and wade or even swim to procure the 

 lily-pads and other aquatic plants that thrive in the shallow 

 water near by. During June, July and August, hundreds 

 of deer visit the water-courses of this wilderness every night, 

 and retire at break of day to the deep recesses of the forest. 



It has been stated that they do this to rid themselves of 

 black flies and mosquitoes, but a little reflection will suffice 

 to show the absurdity of this assertion, for nowhere in the 

 entu-e Wilderness are these insect pests so abundant and an- 

 noying as on the marshes and in the immediate neighbor- 

 hood of lakes and streams. And since it is rare to find a 

 deer above his thighs in water, the fallacy of this supposition 

 is apparent. The fact is that, for the sake of obtaining the 

 plants that grow in such situations, they submit to the an- 

 noyance of swarms of insects, most of which they would 



*1 was particularly struck with this fact en the S9oh of April, 18S3, 

 while crossing from Big Moose Lake to Lake Terror, in company 

 with Dr. F. H. Hoadley. Here, along the banks cf a sluggish stream 

 which was still bordered with ice eight to ten inches in thickness, we 

 observed fresh green grass already over an inch and a half high in 

 small bare spots between snowdrifts two and three feet in depth. 

 The same day tve saw- a deer standing on a mass of ice and snow on 

 the shore of Lake Terror, doubtless in search of food. 



