greatest abundance on Banquereau, ‘east of Sable Island, 
The flocks reach this locality in April, and from the 20th of 
that month to the middle of May are more numerous, 98 a 
rule, than at any other time. April 26, 1879, latitude 44° 
82' N., longitude 57° 12' W,, I “saw several flocks of mur- 
res,” and three days later there were ‘large numbers of 
murres.” : 
A single individual is sometimes seen in summer on the 
banks, but this is by no means a common occurrence. In 
the fall, however, they are more numerous, as at. this season 
they are performing their autumnal migration southwardly, 
but whatever the reason may be, they do not, I believe, ap- 
pear on the banks in such abundance at this season as dur- 
ing the spring months. They aresometimes kiled and eaten 
by the fishermen, but are never obtained in any considerable 
numbers. Ona few occasions I have shot one-or two indi- 
viduals, and they are sometimes knocked over with an oar 
by the men engaged in hauling a trawl, when the murres 
have approached closely enough to the boat to make such a 
feat possible, I have noted in my journal under date of 
Oct, 1, 1870. latitude 48° 54’ N., longitude 58° 32’ W., that 
‘one of the crew killed a murre while hauling his trawl, and 
I skinned it.” 
LITTLE GUILLEMOT OR SEA DOVE (Mergulus alle) Linn. 
The little guillemot, commonly called ‘‘ice bird” by the 
fishermen, is frequently seen on the banks in winter, more 
particularly in the vicinity of field ice, but I huve never ob- 
served it in any considerable numbers. It is fond of staying 
close to a fishing vessel at anchor, it being attracted by the 
offal that is thrown over, and which, when sinking, is se- 
cured and eaten by tlie little guillemot, which is an expert 
diver, I have often watched one of these birds dive beneath 
a schooner and taking in its beak a morsel of sinking food, 
rise on the opposite side of the vessel from that where it 
went down. It is seemingly almost unconscious that it is 
encountering danger when approaching a vessel or boat. I 
have seen it swimming within two fect of a schooner’s side 
without making an effort to go further off unless some one 
attempted to kill it. 
BIRD NOTES. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I notice in this week’s issue of Forest Anp STREAM that 
a Northern hooter had been killed by a Massachusetts farmer. 
I shot one two weeks ago, about four miles from this town, 
which measured four feet nine inches from tip to tip of the 
wings and stands twenty-two inches high. am having it 
set up by a taxidermist. W.#H.S. 
Inton, N. Y. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
On Thanksgiving Day a barn owl (Strix flammea) was 
killed one-half mile south of this city. It was flushed from 
a thicket bordering a swamp and shot. This is a very rare 
bird and is the fourth specimen captured in the State, of 
which there is any record. A great northern diver (Colym- 
bus tergquatus) was captured one mile south of town on the 
14th inst. They are seldom tound here so late in the sea- 
son. Both birds haye been mounted and placed among F. 
8. Case’s collection of birds. They are a valuable addition 
to his already large and beautiful collection, Have not 
noticed an English sparrow for over a month. Hope they 
are gone for good. Parson O’GATH. 
Logan, O 
Liditer Forest and Stream: 
On Noy. 25 we received from Montgomery county, N. 
Y., a fine specimen of American bittern (Botausus mugi- 
tama), and we thought it was rather late in the season for 
this bird to be so far north; but it evidently has not suffered 
for want of food, as I never saw one in better condition, and 
I was almost tempted to have it for dinner Thanksgiving Day. 
But as we went grouse hunting (I do not beg ‘‘Aliquis’s” 
pardon for using this expression), we concluded to defer it 
until another day; but eat it we will, also a pair of ruffed 
grouse that we secured while “hunting” on Thursday. Had 
“Aligius™ been with us and not acknowledged that it was 
more *‘hunting” than “‘shooting,” I should have been disap- 
pointed, We started at 8 o’clock A. M. and did not find a 
bird until after 2 o’clock, and then secured only two out of 
half a dozen we saw. But we are pretty well satisfied now- 
adays if we secure a brace of grouse in a day’s hunting. We 
remember the time when we have taken five before break- 
fast and were at our place of-business by 9 o’clock, but we, 
like our old ForEst AND SrREAM friend, ‘‘Nessmuk,” do not 
go infor slaughter any more. If we secure two or three 
grouse and half a dozen quail in a season we are content, 
We only care to test our game tooth once in awhile. From 
present appearances we shall have a good chance to do so 
during the coming week, for, besides the bittern and grouse, 
we haye a Bubo virginianus and Scops asio hung up by the feet, 
and a buteo borealis that we have been trying to fatten since 
July 4, but he don’t seem to take on flesh yery fast. As long 
as he ran with the hens and chickens he did well (a fact), 
but since he was deprived of their company he don’t fatten 
“worth a cent,” and 1 have about given up getting him in 
good condition for Christmas, in which case 1 shall fall back 
on a pair of mallard ducks a friend sent me last week. 
Loerport, N. ¥., Dec. 2. J, L, D. 
THE MIGRATORY QUAIL. 
Hditor Forest and Stream: 
A friend has sent me a copy of Forrst ann Srrwam, of 
Dee. 4, 1884, which has an editorial on ‘‘Importing Foreign 
Birds,” the other article is on, ‘‘Acclimation of Foreign 
Birds,” in which the writer claims the birds should be let 
loose in warmer climate and in time they would learn the 
way north. This view as applicable to song birds may be 
true, but the migratory quail or Sicily quail are hardy. Stock 
the fields north with them. A few facts. A club of gentle- 
men in Springfield, Mass., imported some migratory quail, 
and two years ago turned them loose in the town of Wilbra- 
ham, so said the papers. r 
The quail were imported because it was thought that they 
would breed bere, migrate south, return in the spring and on 
account of their known attachment to their old breeding 
grounds, would multiply in certain known places. 
About the 8th of November last, the gnringfield Daily 
VYnion called attention to these quail, and gave the opinion 
that they were lost. The writer of this replied, saying: 
“They are here, and here to stay.” Last August, Deacon 
Calvin Preston, walking in the grass, stepped on a young 
bird, and this proved to be a young one uf this species, A 
gentleman discovered two broods of a singular looking quail; 
we told him what they were. The agreement was to watch 
them, as they stayed near the same vicinity, Early in 
——— a 
ss FOREST AND STREAM. 
November there was a slight snow, William Bennett while 
hunting, discovered bird tracks; he soon found the birds and 
killed three. They were migratory quail. Since then he 
has killed one more. Noy. 9, Henry EH. Bennett, walking in 
the Jeaves, stepped on one. This bird got away from him 
and appeared to have been previously injured, The first 
one shot was by Louis Taylor, whose dog pointed on him. 
Description—Size, two-thirds of common quail or Bob 
Whites. They are slimmer when dressed; there is but little 
breast. In color their plumage is brownish, and not so pretty 
as common quail, They love to breed near the habitations 
of men. Generally they may be found under arail fence, 
While they are fleet of foot and swift of wing, they often 
hide, so that the hunter goes within ten or twelve feet of 
them, and they will keep themselves almost invisible; but 
not so when a dog is in the field. When shot into, a flock 
of about thirty, they would fly about thirty rods and start 
up a call, a long, plaintive note, to call the flock together; 
but when fired inio too often, they become frightened and 
ees This experience is based on hunting them without 
a dog, 
We have been particular about stating every fact known 
tous, as heir existence here is disputed by sportsmen abroad. 
We do not wish to flush them with a doy, On the appear- 
ance of the first light snow we shall try to get two specimens, 
and sball send them, if we are successful, to R. O, Morris, 
Esq., Clerk of Hampden county, Springfield, Mass. 
These birds were let loose here strangers to land and cli- 
mate. No bird has instinct nor intelligence enough to find 
the way south to a warmer climate; they must have a leader, 
one that has been over the path and winged his far journey 
by certain landmarks, something as the Mississippi River 
pilot steers his boat by certain defined marks. These land- 
marks are taught annually by birds of passage, and this 
teaching or leadership has not come to the new quail yet. 
Nor is it needed, for they are well feathered, and have a 
faculty of finding well sheltered homes or coverts. Hence, 
they will survive and multiplv, if so be the foxes and their 
worst euemy, man, will refrain from destroying them, 
IT am astonished that the California quail has not been 
largely introduced here, It is a beautiful bird, with its fine 
colors and symmetrical plume on its head. It is a plump, 
nice delicacy for the table—a prolific and hardy bird that 
will stand our climate. G. M. 8, 
Sours Hap.ey, Mass., Dec. 10. 
THE CRANBERRY BEAR. 
Hditor Forest and Stream: ; 
I have just reread your addenda on the ‘‘cranberry bear,” 
I am disposed to demur. You say he is mentioned by 
naturalists ‘‘vaguely.” And is thought to be a sub-variety of 
the cinnamon bear, So, I suppose, is the cinnamon a variety 
of the grizzly. And the chipmunk a sport of the fox-squirrel. 
And the woodsmole a variety of the woodchuck, It will not 
do. LIrespect Audubon, Wilson and others as much as you 
can. Butlam not going toignore my senses. The cran- 
berry bear has less relation to the cinnamon than the chip- 
munk has to the fox-squirrel. The cinnamon is, next to the 
grizzly, our heaviest bear. The cranberry bear is the lightest 
and lankest. The cinnamon has straight, fine hair and fur. 
The cranberry bear has light red and white hair, always 
curly and coarse. Only, on the approach of winter, he has 
a fine nndergrowth of short wool, or fur, as do the deer of 
the far north. He differs in shape, in size, in habits and in 
location. 
from the fox-squirrel, weighing 34 ounces, so does the cran- 
berry bear differ from the cinnamon; only more so. So does 
the cinnamon differ from the grizzly. Iwas brought up to 
believe in Audubon and Wilson, I have lost some faith in 
so-called science. Iam willing to imbibe any knowledge I 
can get, and impart any knowledge I have. 
But J am done with guesswork and deductions. If I were 
ten yeas younger and $500 richer, ] would start for North- 
ern Wisconsin next September, and make it a point to send 
you one or two specimens of the cranberry bear for mount- 
ing. But I go another way. And it dawns on my mind 
that I have spent more mouths in the woods than either 
Audubon or Wilson; and when I see a thing plainly 1 know 
if. 12x12—144; that’s science. The dormouse is a whart- 
rat. Thatis not science, The ratis a woodchuck. That 
is not science. We have no native rabbit; because our rab- 
bit has a slit in his upper lip, and being hare-lipped, he is a 
hare. That is the classification of modern naturalists. Is 
the classification correct? Is it logical? If it be, I am just 
knocked out of literature and science. For here come in 
‘Hlaine.” I have known her for twenty-five years, as a 
teacher, a writer, a poetess, and a fast friend. She quotes 
Shakespeare by the chapter and Burns by the page. And 
now she turns out only a hare, because she has a slit in her 
upper lip. And here is my friend the banker, John Rob- 
bins, to wit. He is my bauker. He has loaned me money 
that he will haye a nice time getting back. Why should he? 
His upper lip convicts him of being a hare. AmTI going to 
pay money toa hare? Not much. My two harriers, Jeff 
and Judy, are on their chains ready for a race. There is a 
light trackiug snow. To-morrow morning I will ‘‘start” 
Elaine and Robbins for a race. When they come around to 
the runways I will give them each a charge of buckshot, and 
a pay my debts. Science is science. Logic is logic. That's 
all I say. 
Seriously, is our gray rabbit a hare? Science says so. 
Science is mistaken. Our gray rabbit is a rabbit. Our 
long-legged white hare is a white hare in winter; he is gray 
in summer. All the same, he runs all day before hounds, 
has no burrow, and never goes to earth. The more I see of 
modern science the less respect I have for it. I am sorry to 
say it. But I cannot go back on facts. NESSMUK. 
Ow 1s ABuNDANT.—Bay Ridge, New York, Dec. 6.—One 
rainy day, a few weeks ago, I was in the vicinity of Coney 
Island, in search of snipe. I found no snipe, but I did start 
eight large owls within a short time and distance, getting 
shots at sixof them. I bagged five of them in good form, and 
the sixth few some one hundred yards and fell, but 1 was 
unable to find him. The other two rose high in air, and 
were soon lost to view over the southern horizon. The five 
0 wis bagged measured nearly five feet cach from tip to tip. 
— CRACKER CRUMBS. 
Reoent ARRIVALS AT THH PHILADELPHIA ZOOLOGICAL GARDEN.—Twe 
African porcupises (Hystrin cristata), one otter (Lutra canadensis), 
two nonpareils ( ia Be ciris), one hawfinch (Coccothraustes vul- 
garis}, one gannet (9 bassanad) and two pine snakes (Pityophis 
menanoleucus). Purchased—One opossum (Didelphys virginiana). 
one red-tailed hawk (Buteo borealis), uvo red-winged blackbirds 
(Ageleus pheniceus), one cowbird (Molothrus pecoris), one great 
northern diyer (Colymbus torquatus), one screech owl (Scops asio). 
one yellow boa (Chilobothrus tnornatus), and one milk Shale (Colu- 
ber obsoleius conjinis). Presented—Four dingoes (Canis dingo), aud 
one crested ground parrakeet (Qalopsitta nove hollandic). 
Just as the chipmunk, weighing 2 ounces, differs. 
338 
Game Bag and Our. 
A THANKSGIVING DAY EXCURSION. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Some men never see anything worth writing about when 
out shooting, unless they have the good fortune to fill a game 
bag or meet with some adventure worthy of special note. 
But game has become so scarce in this part of the country 
that if one were to wait until he had a very successful day 
in the field before sending you a line, | am afraid that 
readers of Formst AND StRwAM would not hear from this 
region for a long time, As there has not been any good 
shooting here since the 1st of September, when a few fair 
bags of woodcock and ruffed grouse were secured, the inci- 
dents of a recent trip after wildfowl must serve as the basis 
of the present ‘‘Notes from Rochester.” 
On the afternoon preceding Thanksgiving when going 
home from the office, | was weighing the reasons for and 
against passing the evening at a dance or in a skating rink, 
when by chance I met a friend (a faithful employe of Uncle 
Sam), who remarked that he was going to Braddock’s Bay 
that night to shoot on the morrow, All thought of capering 
nimbly either to the music of Strauss or on the rollers was 
at once banished, for 1 had not had a chance during the fall 
to look at a bird over my gun, and, althongh the prospect 
for much sport on the marsh was not good, I took the chance 
of finding entertainment of some kind in the country, even 
though it should be no more than to stand on the sandbar 
and gaze at ducks out on the lake that have been so schooled 
by experience as to keep at a prudent distance from shore. 
A few minutes’ ransacking of closets brought out the 
necessary equipment of rubber boots, warm clothing, sedge- 
colored hat, gun, shells, and-in less than an hour from the 
time the agreement was made my friend and I were ona 
train for Charlotte, where, by taking another train on the 
R. W. and O. R. R., we quickly reached North Greece 
station, some two miles and a half, good measure, from the 
habitation on the lake beach, where we were to put up for 
the night. I had never been over the route before, and as 
there was no light to guide us but the faint beams of the 
moon which struggled through an overcast sky, I resigned 
myself wholly to the direction of my companion, and we set 
out afoot merrily for the bay. On approaching the scene of 
our expected sport, a damper was cast on our expectations 
by failure to hear a sound from the waves that should have 
been on the bay, for a brisk wind was blowing from it 
toward us. We had not given a thought to the possibility 
of ice forming on the bay until we reached its edge, and then. 
to our chagrin found a firm sheet covering the surface as 
far as we could see. There was no help for it, and we 
pushed on for the house which, like “‘virtue’s steely bones,” 
looked 
Uold in the bleak wind, 
that came in sharply off Lake Ontario, rolling breakers on 
the beach and whistling shrill among the dry flags of the 
marsh. Messrs. Waddell and Merchant, who make a living 
by shooting, fishing, trapping, and providing sportsmen with 
the usual accommodations of an inn, had not expected any 
guests at that hour and were in bed, but a tap on the window 
opened the door, and we were soon warming ourselves over 
a goo fire of drift wood. The usual questions were jput to 
the natives about the prospect for ducks, and we were some- 
what cheered with the information that although the bay 
was nearly all frozen over, Cranberry Pond, near by, was 
open and fairly supplied with ducks. Wedetermined on an 
immediate “‘change of base” from the bay to the pond, pur- 
posing to run a boat down the lake in the morning, push it 
over the bar, and attack the enemy in his intrenchments, 
After mapping out the plan of campaign, we sought the se- 
clusion of our sleeping apartments and were soon insensible. 
We awoke before sunrise, and on gazing through the haze 
out on the lake had our hopes of a great-day revived briefly, 
by mistaking the rolling crest of a comber for a line of ducks, 
We did not wait for breakfast but hastened out to get on 
the bar between Cranberry and the lake in time for the 
morning flight. Picture our disgust on reaching the pond 
to find that during the night it too had frozen over and that 
nothing but some gulls and a large bird, seemingly wn eagle, 
could be seen hovering over the ice. On the lake a few 
flocks of ducks were in sight, but we knew they would not 
come over the beach, and after getting a few shots at strag- 
gling single birds we gave up all hope of sport in that line 
and resolved to go in the brush for quail or rabbits, a few of 
which we were told could be found not far away. 
After breakfast we started for the woods, hut on our way 
saw some ducks on the bay at the mouth of the Buttonwood 
Creek and our thoughts were again turned toward their 
destruction, We had not thought of venturing on the ice, 
but on testing it we found it over two inches in thickness, 
We ran a skiff out on it and pushed for the open water, 
holding to the boat in case we broke through. The open 
water was reached, decoys put out, blind built and every- 
thing made ready to give the ducks a warm reception when 
they should come, as we expected they would in great, 
numbers, for it was the only open spot in view, and it was 
natural to think that if any birds came in from the lake they 
wouid seek the open water. Wedid our part but the birds 
failed to appear in any overwhelming quantity. We got 
some shooting, but bad to take most of our sport mentally, 
in calculating how many we would have shot if the several 
big flocks which came off the lake and rising high in the air 
appeared to start for Chesapeake Bay, had been so accom- 
modating as to pay us a visit, as well disposed ducks should 
have done. 
When we found that we could not fill our boat with ducks, 
it gave us no small satisfaction to persuade ourselves that 
nothing hut a poor variety of birds—sheldrakes, whistlers, 
butter balls, ete.—remained as late as Noy. 27. Wesaw 
some which | think would at best have been called redheads 
or blacks; perhaps mallards if they had been brought to 
bag, but as they kept well ont of range we are content to 
class them as of lower degree. This narrative, you may 
see, does not detail any alarming inroad on the feathered 
game of our glorious country. On the contrary, it is rather 
calculated to show that the birds of this part of the State 
have, through the process of evolution, natural selection, the 
survival ot the fittest, or what you will, arrived at such a 
state of sagacity that they outwit man, unless the latter has 
an unusually long head or a gun or other instrument of de- 
struction of such a far killing nature, as to throw in the 
shade everything yet produced. As we homeward wended 
our weary way that night, with long flocks of ducks tan- 
talizingly ont of gunshot on the lake, my companion hinted 
at the possibility of being driven to capturing them by some 
