B44 
dlatnyal History. 
THE AMCBA. 
ese is probably no one of the lower forms of life 
which presents as many points of interest as the Amba. 
Tt is of especial interest to the naturalist, because, while it 
has the very simplest structure, it exhibits all the essential 
phenomena of life which are manifested by the higher ani- 
mals. And it is hardly less interesting to the general reader 
as heing one of the forms of life from which, according to 
the now generally accepted theory of evolution, all the higher 
forms have sprung. 
The Amba is 1 microscopic animal, but its structure is so 
exceedingly simple that one can get a very adequate notion 
of it from a description. 
Tf some of the surface mud be collected from the bottom 
of a pool of still water in summer, and a little be spread out 
in water and placed under a glass magnifying about four 
hundred diameters, Ayiave are pretty sure to be found. One 
ean get avery good idea of the animal by imagining how a 
bit of white of egg spread out flat and having a very irrezu- 
larly rounded form would look. And a notion obtained in 
this way would be correct, not only as to the general appear- 
ance of the animal, but also as to its chemical composition. 
For the Ajeba is simply a bit of albuminous matter, and 
albumen, as is well known, is the essential constituent of 
white of egg. One writer has defined it as “animated pro- 
toplasm,” and certainly a much worse definition might easily 
be given, Proltoplasm is another name for the same class of 
substances to which white of egs belongs. 
Probably before one has looked at an Amba half a min- 
ute a very curious change in appearance will occur, There 
will bea thrusting out from the sides of its body of one or 
more lobe-like prolongations. These prolongations are called 
pseudopodia, a word which means false teet. As soon as the 
pseudopodia have been pushed out the whole body of the 
animal moves by a kind of flowing motion toward them, 
We then see why they were called false feet, for it is in this 
way that the animal moves from place to place. There is 
no particular region of the body from which these feet are 
thrust out, but in whatever direction the animal may wish 
to go, on that side of its body it improvises afoot. Some- 
times it will move in a particular direction for a considera- 
ble distance, constantly throwing out pseudopodia from what 
might be called for the moment the front side of its body, 
but in a little while it will change its direction and with the 
change, as we might say, assume a change of front. As the 
creature is moving about in this way it may by chance come 
in contact with some substance which it can use for food. 
And perhaps it is not altogether by chance that it meets with 
food; it may be that it has a means of knowing when food 
matter is near at hand and direct its moyements toward it. 
At all events it seems to be fully conscious when in the 
course of its journeys it meets a particle of food, for it 
immediately proceeds to swallow it and in a manner that is 
yery curious. We have already seen that it has the power 
of improvising afoot whenever it may need. one and at what- 
eyer part of the body it may choose, It has a like power 
with reference to a mouth. When jt has met a particle of 
food it immediately flows around it, makes an opening in the. 
side of its body contiguous to the food and lodges it'securely 
within itself. Lf the entire particle is not composed of digest- 
ible material, after having digested the nutritious part, it 
ejects the remainder in the same way that it received it into 
its body—by making an aperture in its -body-walls and 
thrusting it out. The Ameba is therefore possessed of no 
organs of locomotion and has no mouth and is yet able to 
move about and to eat. And the same may be said of all 
the other physiologicai functions-which it performs—they 
are not carried on by special organs as in the higher animals 
but all are performed by the general substance of the body. 
Tt lives, moves, eats, grows and has the power of reproduc- 
ing its kind, and yet in its whole life is made up a simple 
and homogeneous mass of matter. As we have already in- 
dicated, it is for this reason that it is of the greatest imterest 
to the biologist, since in its life the problems of physiology 
are reduced to their simplest form. 
Tf an Ameba be examined with a little care it will be seen 
that its central part contains granular matter and perhaps 
three or four particles of a comparatively large size. These 
larger particles are bits of food which it has swallowed. 
The animal lives on both animal and vegetable food, but con- 
sumes more of the latterthan the former. Diatoms are one 
of the kinds of plants most commonly found within it. The 
external part of the body looks a little clearer than the rest, 
and isa liltle thicker and more tough. This boundary is 
not what may be called a membrane, but is simply of some- 
what denser consistency than the rest. It is like the exter- 
nal part of a drop of jelly that has partly cooled. Some- 
times there can be seen in this outer layer of the body a small 
clear space. When first seen it may be just large enough to 
be discernible, If one watches it a little while it will be 
seen to increase in size until it appears, as one writer has 
said, “like a window.” After a little time, perhaps half a 
minute, it quite suddenly disappears. In a little while ib 
will reappear again, and always in the same place. This 
clear spot is called the ‘‘vacuole.” It isnot known just what 
iis function is. Some have thought that it isa rudimentary 
heart, its office being to drive the nutritive fluid derived from 
digestion tothe various parts of the body. Others have 
thought that if communicates with the exterior, and that its 
use is to pump water to and from the body, 
There is also imbedded in the outer layer of the body a 
small rounded or oval mass called the cell-nucleus. Just 
what its function is is unknown, but it is probably connected 
with reproduction. The method by which new generations 
of Amebe are produced is by what is called “‘fission.” It is 
a yery simple process indeed, The cell-nucleus divides into 
two parts; the parts separate a little from each other, and 
then the entire body of the animal divides, each part having 
one of the new nuclei, The young Amba tous formed 
grows until it has attained the size of its parent, and is then 
itself ready for division into two more beings. This method 
of reproduction is very common among the lower forms of 
life in both the animal and vegetable kingdoms. 
Under certain conditions the Ameba rolls itself up into a 
ball and secretes a hard case called a cyst, It remains in 
this condition for varied lengths of time, but sooner or later 
breaks through its covering and takes on its former condi- 
tion. It is thought that it does this as a precaution against 
being dried up. 
e have thus far described one of the commonest but by 
no means the only form of Amebw. There is, in fact, a very 
great variety of forms. ‘There is one form which has no 
cellnucleus and no yacuole. This is, perhaps, the very 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
simplest of all living organisms. It is often called the Pro- 
tameba. 'There are some forms which instead of throwing 
out club-shaped pseudopodia, as the common Amaba does, 
shoots out long, delicate, hairtike psendopodia. There is 
one kind found on the seaweed off the Canary Islands which 
surrounds itself with a network of pseudopodia. There is 
still another kind called the sun-animalcule, which sends off 
pseudopodia in the form of rays. But all these forms agree 
in the essential character of being made up of undifferen- 
tiated protoplasm, that is, protoplasm which is alike 
throughout the entire body, no portions of it having been 
set apart to do special work or haying acquired special char- 
acteristics. 
The Amada is an animal and not a plant, not because it 
has the power of locomotion or of contractility, but because, 
in the first place, it lives on organic matter—its food is other 
animals and plants; and in the second place, because it is 
not surrounded by a covering containing cellulose, Plants 
on the other hand generally have a cellulose covering, and 
are able to obtain their food from air and water in the form 
of simple elementary substances. 
But perhaps the most interesting point about the Amba 
is that they are almost exactly like certain bodies found in 
the human system. We refer to the white blood corpuscles. 
Everybody is familiar with the fact that the blood consists 
of a liquid plasma in which Hoat corpuscles of two kinds, 
the red and white, Now, these white corpuscles exhibit 
almost all the characters of the Ama@be. Like them they are 
composed of protoplasmic matter and like them they under- 
£0 constant changes of form. They even’possess the power 
of independent motion, for they are often found by the his- 
tologist wandering about alone in other tissues than the 
blood, strayed, as it were, from their natural habitat. But 
perhaps the most remarkable feature of the white corpuscles 
is that they will take finely divided matter into their interior 
the same way as true Amewbe would. The while corpuscles 
of cold-blooded animals, as frogs or newts, if placed in serum 
and properly protected from evaporation can be kept alive 
for many weeks. If finely divided coloring matter, as indigo, 
be given them they take it into their bodies im just the same 
way as Amebe take their food. The white corpuscles have 
a nucleus but no vacuole. 
The movements of these corpuscles are very dependent 
upon temperature. To be well seen they must be kept at tke 
normal temperature of the body. This is best effected by 
the contrivance known as the hot stage. The activity of 
Ame is also somewhat dependent upon temperature, but 
their movements can be well seen at the temperature of an 
ordinary room. 5. 
Jouns Borris Untyersiry, Nov. 8, 1884. 
Brrp my A Mouss TRAP.—A new feature in trapping 
has just developed itself on my back piazza. There are 
quite a number of chickadees, nuthatches, downy wood- 
peckers, white-throated sparrows, suowbirds and song spar- 
rows that now feed around my house. - Tbe sparrows and 
snowbirds have their hayseed and bread crumbs, while the 
others enjoy their pieces of fat nailed up against the trees, 
and tied on the ends of their branches. But sometimes these 
“fat eaters” come in such numbers, that there is nota ‘‘piece 
a piece” for them all around, and consequently some have to 
wait. While this waiting is going on, they frequently fy 
up on the windowsills or under the eaves of the house or 
around the piazzain search of spiders. Yesterday a poor 
nuthatch came to grief in his searching. The servant had 
brought a Yankee mouse trap down from the garret, where 
it had been used for the past month, to put fresh bait on the 
wires. This she left on the top of a box that stoou on the 
piazza just outside the door. Three holes were sprung, 
while two still remained set. Judge my surprise, when 
about to enter the house in the afternoon, and happening to 
glance toward the box, what should I see but a nuthatch 
with his head in ihe mouse trap. He was dead, and must 
have been for some hours. The poor little fellow had been 
searching, no doubt, around the box for food, when happen- 
ing to spy the cheese on the wire in the mouse hole, he 
pecked at it, and was at once caught and choked to death, 
We have seen many birds caught in steel traps and rat 
traps, but. never in a mouse trap before.—A. H. G, (Sear- 
borough, N. Y.). 
Gane Bag and Gun. 
GROUSE SHOOTING ON THE UPPER 
MISSISSIPPI—II. 
BY T. 8. VAN DYKE, 
OW many who think they know all the varied pleas- 
ures of the field and stream haye ever found both pin- 
nated and ruffed grouse upon the same kind of ground, and 
even had them so mingled that it was impossible, before the 
bird rose, to tell upon which kind the dog was pointing? Yet 
upon these bluffs of the upper Mississippi this thing has 
often happened, and even Bob While too has sometimes 
added his charming presence to increase the doubt and the 
pleasure, In many places the sides of these bluffs were well 
covered with maple, ash, oak and birch nearly to the top. 
At the bottom of the hill this growth broke into thickets of 
hazel, groves of wild plum, crab-apple and dwarf white oak: 
These hillsides were the fayorite haunt of the ruffed grouse. 
Here he lived the long year round. Here one could nearly 
always hear his drum and roaring wing as he darted away 
at one’s approach. In autumn the great tape of the 
“ 
etouse descended to the lower edge ot the hills, and some 
even scattered over the brushy portions of the adjoining low- 
lands, But in summer they ascended the bluifs and reared 
their young, often within one hundred feet of the highest 
level, Especially was this the case in the heads of the little 
wooded ravines through which the larger ones gradually 
merged into the prairie. And if, as was often the case after 
settlement of the bluffs began, a wheat field ran near the 
edge of the hill, or around the head of one of these little 
ravines, the ruffed grouse would often come upon the stubble 
to feed in the morning or in the eveues just as did the pin- 
nated. Until these ruffed grouse were full grown, and even 
afterward, the coveys remained entire; and until the time of 
breaking up and scattering they generally would lie to the |p 
dog almost as well, often quite as well, as the pinnated, 
Several times I have had my dog trail] them out upon the 
stubble over a hundred yards from the grass, and had no 
idea until they rose that they were anything but prairie 
chickens, Instead of rising two or three at a time like young 
chiekens, they nearly always rose all ut once. A tew of 
them pethaps would fly into trees, but the majority settled 
ee is 
a 
[Nev, 27, 4884. 
in the grass and lay like chickens to the dow. { have in this 
way shot as high as nine from a single covey, all about as 
large as the old one. 
But the more common way and the one that gave the best 
sport, was when we found both kinds nearly together down 
the hillside. About 10 o’clock on very warm days, the 
chickens, after feeding, often retired to the most shady slopes 
of the hills, and sometimes went half way down. Sometimes 
the dog would trail them down there, and often we descended 
because we could not find them above and thought they must 
be there. Then sometimes the dog would stop upon the 
very trail of the pinnuted, and point a covey of the ruffed, 
and sometimes a covey of each was driven in the same direc- 
tion along the hillside, and then, when the dog came to a 
point, it was often an even chance which kind would burst 
from the grass ahead of him. And as quail bred upon these 
bluffs and ran down the sides, we sometimes in September, 
when the young were large enough to shoot, had them 
mixed with the grouse. 
Occasionally we had the same intermingling on the Wis- 
consin side of the Mississippi. Between the Chippewa River 
bottom and the bluffs between which it ran lay benches or 
tables of land, sometimes containing hundreds of acres. 
These were often covered with a thin growth of black oak, 
but the soil beneath retained the vegetation and general 
character of sandy prairie. In this scattered timber prairie 
chickens were often as abundant as on the open prairie, and 
delightful shooting could be had there, as it was nearly as 
cool and breezy as the bluffs-of the Minnesota side, and 
down nearly every ravine sparkled a clear, cold brook, gen- 
erally containing trout, and within much easier reach than 
the brooks across the Mississippi, These benches were from 
fifty to a hundred feet above the river bottom, rising gener- 
ally by a steep slope covered with black-haw, red-haw, plum, 
crab apple and scrub oak, cut with little ravines filled with 
brush of the same nature, forming a favorite breeding place 
of the ruffed yrouse. Where these tablelands broke into the 
high bluffs further back from the river were thickets of 
hazel, groves of maple, torn apples and serub oak, also a 
great haunt of the ruffed grouse, as well as the hillside higher 
up. Not only did the ruffed frouse often run out from each 
side quite a distance into this grass, but often crossed on foot 
the whole bench. Ihave caught them fuil in the middle of 
it, had them fly into the grass just like chickens, and there 
lie \o the dog in the same manner. 
This whole region was once a fine hunting ground for the 
ruffed grouse, and doubtless many are still found there. But 
there were few places outside of the ‘Big Woods” of Minne- 
sota or Wisconsin where a special hunt for them was worth 
while, except late in the autumn. About the time the leaves 
were nearly off and Bob White was recovering from the Tittle 
crazy spell he has in the West, when he gathers in large 
flocks, runs into town and flies against houses, then the ruffed 
grouse descended from the hills and became abundant in the 
tiver bottoms and on the adjacent slopes and benches covered 
with brush. The brush was then the best hunting ground 
for quails; and in years when they were abundant, as after 
two or three mild winters, fine shooting could be had there. 
And many atime the ruffed grouse soared upward from be- 
fore the dog when you thought he was pointing upon quail, 
Sometimes, though rarely, the woodcock is found with them, 
The woodcock generally leaves the country earlier in the 
season, But twice I haye seen the autumn so warm and late 
that the woodecock remained until the middle of October in 
all the fullness and fatnéss of perfection. On one occasion 1 
found eight or ten woodcock and five or six ruffed grouse in 
a small patch of willows of about three acres into which I had 
driven a bevy of quail. Add now the fact that the open 
ground was marshy and ‘the edges of the sloughs and ponds 
covtained plenty of snipe, that there were ducks in all the 
ponds and sloughs, and that at any moment a huge pack of 
chickens, now traveling on the wing, might come whizzing 
past you, and you have someideaof those times, Two kinds 
of hares, the small cotton tails and the northern hare turning 
white in winter, were also found in the brush, though we 
rarely troubled them. Sad is the recollection of ‘‘the days 
that “re no more”; yet 1 cannot but feel glad that my lot was 
cast in such days as those. One who has seen such can most 
truly say, “I haye lived.” He who has not has only existed. 
' He who has hunted prairie chickens only in Illinois or 
Tndiana was often surprised upon these bluffs to see chickens 
rise before the dog which showed more white than gray or 
brown, and when a full grown one fell he found a much 
finer specimen of a game bird than the common grouse. It 
was, or at least seemed to be, somewhat larger and fuller 
breasted. The predominant colors of its back, wings and 
tail were a soft brown rather than gray, its breast was nearly 
white, with much smaller mottles than those of the common 
chicken, and also of different shape and differently arranged. 
The under side of its tail and body were covered with a 
heavy plumage of fluffy white, and its legs were feathéred. 
almost to its toes. This was the “‘sharptailed grouse,” 
though generally called the ‘‘white grouse.” In the early 
days of Minnesota this was the prevailing variety, the com- 
mon gray “chicken” being almost unknown in places. With 
the settlement of the country the varieties changed, the 
common pinnated. grouse increasing with the increase of 
stubble, and the other disappearing. It is impossible to im- 
agine any reason for this remarkable fact. 
This sharp-tailed grouse did not, in general, lie so well to 
the dog as the common variety. And the whole of a young 
covey was much more apt to rise at once, instead of two or 
three al a time, as is generally the case with the common 
chicken. They were also less shy about showing themselves, 
and could be sometimes seen walking on the stubble or even 
in the grass, which was very rarely the case with the others. 
They also seemed quicker on the wing and better eating than 
the others, though at this distance of time it is impossible to 
say how much of this was youthful fancy. In nearly all 
other respects their habits seemed identical with those ot the 
other grouse, though there was no evidence of the varieties 
interbreeding. But there were times, when on certain kinds 
of ground, this sharp-tailed grouse would lie to the dog as 
well as the others, and the finest bit of concentrated shooting, 
as well as the finest work I ever saw done by a dog, was 
upon these birds. My friend, O. D. Ford, of Mazeppa, 
Wabasha county, and myself, drove out one morning from 
Plainview, in that county, to hunt chickens. tt was in 
September, when the coyeys were beginning to unite in large 
acks, and when the best place to look for theni is in the 
middle of the. large wheat stubbles. A young setter of the 
Bismarck stock, that 1 had taken much pains in breaking, 
was suddenly missing, though but_a minute before he was 
ranging the stubble ahead of us. While looking around for 
him we several grouse sitting upon a fence, some five hun- 
dred yards away, and in a moment more saw the top of the 
dog’s head aboye the stubble some two hundred yards tothe 
a 
