April 9, 1885. | 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



203 



in such situations, and then when he requires breath comes 

 to the surface again. He presents a queer appearance when 

 at the bottom., where he seems to be tumbling about in the 

 most curious and erratic way, now for a momeut stationary, 

 and again being swept away by the force of the stream. 

 No doubt he makes a good living, for he always seems busy, 

 contented and cheerful. 



Tbe dipper seems to be satisfied with his own company for 

 I lie greater part of the year, but during the breeding season 

 he perforce seeks a mate, and these two build their nest close 

 to the water's edge, under a bank or the roots of a tree, and 

 often amid the spray of some brawling cascade. The struc- 

 ture is as curious in its way as its architects. It is lined 

 with twigs or tine, dry grass, and completely covered on the 

 outside by an arched roof of flue green moss, which is kept 

 fresh and living by the moisture of its surroundings, or 

 sometimes perhaps by the birds themselves, who, it is said, 

 after emerging from the water, fly to the roof of the nest 

 and, alighting there, vigorously shake the drops from their 

 feathers over the mossy covering. 



With such interesting birds to watch, it may be imagined 

 that a part of the morning passed quickly enough; but at 

 length the dippers flew away up the streeru, and as no 

 others came, the attractions of the fire drew me back once 

 beneath the sheltering mauta. 



A little later Stuart went fishing, aud he having caught 

 a two-pound trout, 1 took my rod to set it up. But I had 

 no sooner drawn it from its sole leather case than T saw that 

 my fishing for the trip was over. The good rod that had 

 served me for so many years, and had traveled with me for 

 so many thousand miles, was broken into a dozen pieces. 

 It had been packed the day before on Star, and he had 

 caught it against the low branches of a pine. The pine was 

 strong and so was Star, and as neither would yield, the rod 

 had been utterly smashed. I did not take it from its bag, 

 for 1 could feel its condition, and sadly put it away, not to be 

 opened uutil 1 had reached the East again. 



It was rather a wretched day. Huddled together under 

 the manta, the members of the party sat about the fire, which 

 sent out a good deal of warmth and much more smoke. The 

 snow, which fell almost without intermission, eddied under 

 our shelter and fell softly hissing on the fire, and that which 

 lodged on our roof, melted by the heat of tbe fire, leaked 

 through the depressions and trickled down upon us, necessi- 

 tating constant changes of position and ever-renewed attempts 

 to tighten the canvas so that the moisture should iuu off. 

 The gusts of wind sent the smoke whirling about in all 

 directions, and made sitting by the fire almost as uncomfort- 

 able as remaining outside, for the pungent smoke of the pine 

 wood was very painful to the eyes. And yet there was to it 

 all an extremely comic side. Every one looked so very mis- 

 erable that it was quite amusing to watch them, and each 

 one was appreciative enough to take in the humorous side of 

 the situation and cheerful enough to make a joke even of 

 what was most doleful. So we sat about the fire and whittled 

 and smoked, and recalled other snowy camps and other ex- 

 periences still more disagreeable, making the time pass as 

 well as possible. 



In the afternoon Stewart took the gun and walked out 

 into the hdls, but returned an hour or two later without 

 having seen any game. He reported that the stream forked 

 half a mile above the camp, and that there was a low pass in 

 the canon wall there where we could easily climb to the 

 hills to follow the south fork, which seemed the one to be 

 taken. Then there was more sitting about the fire, more 

 whittling, more smoking, and about dark we had supper 

 and soon afterward we were glad enough to turn in, 



ROUGHING IT IN THE NATIONAL PARK. 



in. 



COMING- into camp, I felt fatigued and disappointed, but 

 thoroughly convinced that hunting the Rocky Moun- 

 tain sheep is not very agreeable sport to a tenderfoot. De- 

 termining to try again, we rode next morning to the mouth 

 of the canon, but no sheep were to be seen, for it had snowed 

 in the night and the animals did not come down to water. 

 Frank, who had his shotgun along, did the only shooting, 

 killing a number of grouse on our way home. Frank was in 

 favor of leaving the Sheep to try our luck on elk. I per- 

 suaded him to remain one more day and try them for the 

 last time. So Thursday Ryan and 1 left camp raiher late in 

 a different direction. 'We hunted up a creek which ran 

 back of the main canon, but found no sheep, though noticing 

 great many signs of them. About noon a terrible snow 

 storm set in, which impeded our travel greatly, and obliged 

 us to lead our horses, as the old Indian trail we had to follow 

 out of the gulch was soon covered with snow; but carefully 

 feeling our way, we reached camp late in the afternoon, 

 Where we remained for the rest of the day, as the snow was 

 coming down in great big flakes. Thus "finished our unsuc- 

 cessful hunt for Rocky Mountain sheep. 



Friday, Oct. 3, we pulled up sticks, and retracing our 

 steps, left the canon, but could not make more than fifteen 

 miles because the road was snowed up and in bad condition. 

 As we were moving along slowly on the bank of the river, 

 I killed quite a number of ducks, and had also a flying shot 

 at an antelope. On onr way back we met quite a number of 

 hunters and trappers, who" must have had better luck, as 

 their outfits were well stocked with elk, black and white-tail 

 deer, bear and beaver hides. 



Saturday, the 4th, we crossed the Madison and camped 

 near the South Fork in u terrible snowstorm. Having ar- 

 rived in the elk country, wNe saddled our ponies early the 

 next morning to look lot theXgame. We found several old 

 tracks, also freshly-made bear'\ tracks, and came very near 



mistaking a large porcupine which was feeding on pine cones 

 in it tree for black bear cub. We spared fi is life. In the 

 afternoon I had a good chance at a splendid large buck ante- 

 lope, but being a little hasty, and forgetting that my hair- 

 trigger was set. the rifle went off prematurely and missed the 



game. 



Monday, Oct. 6, Ryan and I started for the timbered 

 mountains. The snow was from four to six inches deep, and 

 locomotion was difficult: but soon finding a fresh trail, we 

 followed it carefully and cautiously, through Jungles and 

 windfalls, up hills and down ravines, now a mile through a 

 heavily limbered wilderness, down into a, thicket of dense 

 evergreens, f ,'losely eyci ng every spot and ad vanci ugsilently 

 1 suddenly heard a shrill, rasping whistle. It was the first 

 time J ever heard that sound, but T knew it at once to be 

 the whistle of a bull elk. Suddenly there wiw a tremendous 

 commotion in the thicket. Wc had come upon the band 

 lying down, and not more than fifteen or twenty rods ahead 

 a bull and two cows were dashing through the thicket. Two 

 rifles cracked simultaneously, and the elk, making one tre- 

 mendous leap, fell dead in his track. It Avas a splendid two- 

 year-old bull, with a fine pair of antlers. But for the dense 

 cover we would have bagged one or both of the cows: but as 

 we were not after meat nor hides, we thought it sport enough, 

 and took to camp the head with its noble pair of antlers and 

 as much meat as we could convey on our horses'. 



Oct. 7, parting with our guide and companion Ryan, we 

 moved to Henry's Lake, eight miles. This lake is most pic- 

 turesque, and is noted especially for its floating islands. On 

 our way to the store, on the head of the lake, we saw several 

 bands of antelope. Frank killed some grouse, which were 

 very abundant, and I bagged some mallard and teal duck, 

 the lake being covered with many waterfowl. We soon 

 found a cozy spot for camp, and after a savory and delici- 

 ous supper turned into our blankets. 



Oct. 8 we hunted the foothills for antelope; struck several 

 bands, and shot away a lot of cartridges, as we had to do all 

 our shooting at long range, but with no damage. If our 

 time had permitted I could have remained at this most lovely 

 spot for weeks. This lake is situated in a charming valley 

 surrounded by snow-capped mountains, while in the distance 

 loom the Te'tons, like grim sentinels keeping watch and 

 ward. We left this enchanting spot uext day, following the 

 Shoshone or Snake River most of the time, and had fine sport 

 duck-shooting, mostly mallards, which came very apropos as 

 a change of elk meat in our larder. 



Friday we had along, dreary drive through a monotonous 

 sage prairie, and dallying at sage hen shooting, we did not 

 make Sheridan Station, and were obliged to camp on the 

 bleak prairie; we were fortunate to camp near a little creek 

 of water, but had to burn sage brush for fuel. 



Saturday we started about 10 A. M., and kept on jogging 

 through the bleak sage brush. We amused ourselves shoot- 

 ing sage hens, sometimes right from the wagon, and as we 

 crossed several creeks, which also gave us fine sport at ducks. 

 That night we camped quite late at Indian Creek, and next 

 day, Oct, 13, left the prairie and arrived by noon at Beaver 

 Canon. This is a railroad town on the Utah and Northern 

 division of the U. P. R., and also the western entrance to 

 the Park. Here we received news from our Idaho friend, 

 who urged us to come by all means. On Oct. 14 we started 

 for Idaho, and hastened on until we met our friend at Junc- 

 tion Bar. Our party now consisted of Billy H.. Tom, 

 Charles H. and my humble self, on horseback, while my old 

 companions, F. and Bill, who drove the team, followed in 

 the wagon, and completed our caravan. Our route passed 

 along the South Boise for seven or eight miles, sometimes 

 through beautiful meadow lands, sometimes climbing, on 

 onr sure-footed bronchos, over short trails, until crossing 

 once more the river we came into a grove of resinous pine, 

 and not far from the river, at a deserted hunters' or miners' 

 cabin, we halted and made camp. 



Having finished camp duties, plans were made for the 

 morrow, Bill H. being made captain, as he knew the coun- 

 try best. He proposed that we should begin with hunting 

 the mountain goat. The Aplocerus montanus or white goat 

 of the Rocky Mountains (its popular name is an incorrect 

 one) is no goat, and strictly speaking does not inhabit the 

 Rocky Mountains, for its home is entirely confined .to the 

 more or less detached mountain chains that occupy the 

 Pacific slope of the main system of the Rocky Mountains. 

 It is only found iu Western "Montana, the northernmost por- 

 tion of Idaho and Oregon, in Washington Territory and 

 British Columbia. 



At daybreak, Wednesday, Oct. 29, our camp was all astir. 

 Having "finished breakfast and taking a lunch along, we soon 

 started out in pairs. Friend Bill and Frank went ahead 

 toward the gulch, Charles and Tom cut across the timbered 

 mountains, after deer or elk, while Billy H. and myself went 

 along the valley leaving the river on our left and the sloping 

 hills on the right, toward a mountain range, the principal 

 home of the mountain goat. Having not aone more than 

 twenty minutes from camp, my companion, who w r as in- 

 specting the rising foothills, dotted here and there with 

 buckbrush, a species of laurel, suddenly exclaimed, ''There 

 is a deer running," in the same time opening fire on it. Sure 

 enough, about 150 yards up the sidehill, a lordly buck was 

 running with a low rolling lope. I wheeled around and in 

 my excitement made a beautiful miss. Friend H. blazed 

 away and overshot again, and my second shot, went also 

 above, but seeing where my ball struck, and getting 

 a little calmer, succeeded in putting my third "bullet 

 in the deer's head, a little below the ear, the buck making 

 one tremendous bound and falling in a little ravine. Ex- 

 hilarated by my success, I gave vent to a yell which would 

 have put a Comanche to shame, and set out, as fast as my 

 legs and wind would permit, up the hill to my treasured 

 prize. Being cautioned by H. to be careful and not too im- 

 patient, I stopped a few feet from the noble buck. There he 

 lay in all his beauty, and never will I forget the reproachful 

 looks of the mortally-wounded animal. Resolved to shorten 

 his miseries by cutting his throat, and, bending over him, he 

 made a terrible effort to escape; I trying iu vain to keep him 

 to the ground, and afraid of being butted or trampled on, 

 both of us went down the hill topsy-turvy until H. came to 

 my assistance and ending the noble animal's struggles by cut- 

 ting bis throat. We dressed and cleaned him and left him 

 near the river. Having been detained a good while by the 

 unexpected encounter, we now hurried to the uot distant 

 range, the home of the mountain goat. 



We had some terrible climbing over slopes and precipices, 

 covered with masses of debris, loose slabs and boulders, with 

 the sharpest corners and edges imaginable, using knees, toes 

 arid fingers to gain the cliffs. H. kept his course parallel, 

 but lower than mine, instructing me to advance slowly and 

 carefully, as in case he should start some of these wary ani- 

 mals they would run to the ridge, giving me a good oppor- 



tunity. 1 soon heard the crack of his rifle and soon saw a 

 small band of goats running with most remarkable rapidity, 

 crossing crevices and ascending impossible steeps with the 

 greatest ease. Gaining the ridge they disappeared in the 

 crags like apparitions. Crawling as cautiously as possible, I 

 neared the spot where they disappeared, and lifting my head 

 inch by inch over a projecting ledge I saw one of "the goats, 

 a good-sized ram, siUiug upon his haunches, looking 

 and watching II., who had succeeded in killing two 

 out of the band. As 1 was considerably out of breath, 

 and nervous with excitement, I waited two or three 

 minutes until sufficiently recovered. Steadying my nerves 

 and sighting a little behind the shoulder, the rifle' cracked 

 and the ram was my meat. He toppled over and over, look- 

 ing like a. miniature snow avalanche tumbling down the 

 ridge, not stopping until he. got to the foot and near the 

 creek. I felt as proud of my success as an Indian over his 

 first scalp, and ran along as fast as I could to meet H., whom 

 I saw coming up toward me. After hunting a while around 

 the top of the ridge, and seeing only two goats through my 

 field glass, at least a mile off, we concluded to go down to 

 the gulch, as his goats also had rolled near down to tne bot- 

 tom. He had killed a female and her kid, which we soon 

 had skinned, also taking a hindquarter of the kid along. A 

 half a mile lurther down we came to my ram; it was of a 

 very formidable size. After skinning tins but leaving the 

 head on, we were both well loaded down, but managed to 

 get to camp proud of our load, and going back with some of 

 the boys for the buck 1 had lulled in the morning. All the 

 boys had returned to camp by this time, and admiring our 

 trophies of the day. We counted seven goats and two deer. 

 Charles H. killed a fawn and three goats, Frank had suc- 

 ceeded in killing the largest ram of the lot. Roasting the 

 kid's hindquarter, and broiling some nice steaks from my 

 buck, we enjoyed a most pleasant meal, and a happy lot of 

 mortals were soon rolled up in their respective blankets. 



Next morning, Oct. 30, we rose bright and early, once 

 more to try the goats; but they must have been thoroughly 

 alarmed or thinned out by our previous day's hunt. Bill 

 was the only one so fortunate as to run across' a goat and kill 

 it. We all returned to camp by noon, as two of our party 

 had to leave that afternoon. 



After dinner, Frank, who had his photographic outfit 

 along, took a view of the beautiful and picturesquely situated 

 camp, after which Bill and Mr. G. drove off, leaving Frank, 

 Charles, Tom and myself in camp. 



Friday, Nov. 31, Charles, Tom and I went off after break- 

 fast, to see if we could find any goats further back of the 

 mountain and on the other side of the canon, but not seeing 

 any tracks nor sign, we left the rocky cliffs for the lower 

 foothills in search of deer. It had snowed the night before, 

 and we soon saw the tracks of a large buck. We had to 

 make considerable noise getting through the dense brush and 

 shrub, and he escaped, frightened by a few bullets, which 

 were sent after him at long range. I killed a fat fawn in the 

 afternoou, and badly wounded another big buck. Follow- 

 ing his bloody track several miles, we ran across a wolverine 

 (or "nondescript" as it is called by Western hunters), which 

 we succeeded in killing. It must have been also pursuing 

 the wounded buck. ' F. B t. 



!#%#/ 



^torg. 



IMPORTED PHEASANTS. 



Editor Forest, and Stream: 



In your last issue "Barron" relates the unfortunate expe- 

 rience the association of which he is a member has had with 

 the Oregon Legislature, relative to some pheasants, presented 

 by our Consul at Tientsin, Chiua. 



While all lovers of noble game will sympathize with him 

 in what he says and regret that their application to the rul- 

 ing powers failed, yet none need be surprised, for the aver- 

 age legislature of our country pass more stupid and uncalled 

 for acts, and create fewer meritorious ones than any other 

 bodies of lawmakers having equal power in the world. It 

 could hardly be expected the Legislature of "Barron's" State 

 would appreciate the value of any of the birds mentioned 

 by him as additions to the avifauna of our land. But it is 

 not with the law-makers I have to do at present, but with 

 the pheasants themselves. I do not call them "Mongolian," 

 for there is not a Mongolian pheasant {Phasianus mongolicus) 

 in the lot, that is if the English terms applied to them are 

 characteristic, but they come from quite different countries, 

 two of them, the copppr (P. sammeringi) and the green (P. 

 versicolor) being from Japan while the rest are purely Chinese 

 species. 



The thought that occurred to me on reading the article, 

 and which has influenced me in writing to you, is what a, 

 curious menagerie there will be on Protection Island in a few 

 years, if the birds remain there! I do not know the distance 

 this island is separated from the mainland, but if it is not con- 

 siderable, the birds will be dwellers of wood and mountains of 

 the interior before long, as they are capable of quite extended 

 flights, and they will naturally seek the districts most suitable 

 to their mode of life. But perhaps Protection Island is large 

 enough to afford all the variety of hills and plains necessary. 

 There are four genera in this little company of buds, viz. : 

 Phasianus, Evplocamv.s, Geriornis and lhawmalea. The first 

 includes the species mentioned above, the second the silver, 

 the third the Tragopan cocks and the last the golden pheas- 

 ants. 



No species of buds are probably more addicted to hybrid- 

 ism than pheasauts, and although to a certain extent the 

 difference of genera will present a obstacle to the crossing of 

 some of the birds turned loose, yet undoubtedlv there will be 

 in a few years— perhaps this year— some very curious and 

 interesting specimens existing on this island, regarding 

 which I can safely assert no one but a trained ornithologist 

 will be able to decide to what parents they owe their exist- 

 ence. As a rule, hybridism in game birds should not be en- 

 couraged, although it is claimed that the offspring of distinct 

 species iu England is a finer bird than either of his parents. 

 But in the preserves of that country the pheasants are semi- 

 domestieated, and often brought up by hand. It is to be 

 hoped that "Barron," or some other member of his associ- 

 ation, will publish the result of this introduction of pheasants 

 of various forms on Protection Island. 



I was sorry to see that the silver pheasant was a member 

 of the little community, for although they are large, hand- 

 some birds, yet the cocks are very pugnacious and fierce, and 

 the powerful spurs with which their legs are armed enable 

 them to commit great injury to any fowl that dare stand 

 against them. They are an overmatch for any other pheas- 

 ant on the island. 



To those who contemplate introducing members of the 



