468 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



i July 9, 1885. 



notice. In this case some of the pups resembled the father 

 and some the mother. The litter grew up and -were terribly 

 destructive to the cattle, sometimes killing yearlings and two- 

 year-olds. They were finally with the mother all shot. The 

 doe; was never seen after his elopement with the female wolf 

 and was no doubt killed by lupine rivals.] 



THE NEST AND EGGS OF SWAINSON'S 

 WARBLER. 



(ITcUnaki moaimoni.) 



BY WI1J>TAM BEEWPTEK. 



IT is already a matter of record* that during the year 1884 

 Mr. Arthur T. Wayne and myself found Swainson's 

 warblers in some numbers near Charleston, South Carolina, 

 where upward of fifty specimens were taken, includiug the 

 previously undescribed young in first plumage. But although 

 we ascertained beyond all doubts that the birds bred there 

 we utterly failed to find the nest or even to learn anything 

 definite regarding its probable character and position. 



In May of the present year I visited Charleston for the 

 third time, and with Mr. Wayne spent several days wading 

 about in the swamps in the hope of stumbling on the prize. 

 But the birds— perhaps thinned by our merciless collect ing- 

 ot' the preceding season — proved so very scarce that we often 

 spent an entire day in their haunts without either seeing or 

 hearing one, and the search for a nest seemed so hopeless that 

 I soon abandoned it for a more promising undertaking else- 

 where. Mr. "Wayne, however, continued it with unremitting 

 perseverance, and after many disappointments his labors 

 were finally rewarded, for early in June he succeeded in 

 finding two nests, the first that have ever been taken. His 

 account of the interesting experience, kindly placed in my 

 hands for publication, is as follows: 



"Feeling sure that a pair of these warblers had a nest in a 

 swamp, I searched the place carefully many days in succes- 

 sion. The male was usually present, but he sang in so many 

 different places that I could not tell where his mate and eggs 

 were concealed. At length (on June 5) while forcing 

 my way through a dense tract of canes, 1 stopped to rest and 

 look about, feeling half disposed to give up the task altogether, 

 when my eye was suddenly arrested by the sight of a -bird 

 sitting near at hand on what appeared to be. & mass of rub- 

 bish lodged in the top of a cane. I saw almost immediately 

 that it was a Swainson's "warbler, and advanced, when it 

 flew and alighted on the ground, feigning lameness, but 

 keeping pci'fect silence. Upon examining the supposed rub- 

 bish 1 found, to my great delight, that 1 had at length dis- 

 covered the veritable nest of a Swainson's warbler, but to 

 my disgust it contained only a single young bird about five 

 days old. T shot the male shortly afterward as it was feed- 

 ing the young bird, but the female escaped. The nest was 

 built in a cane about four feet above a pool of stagnant 

 water 



"Having now some definite knowledge of the position of 

 the nest, I went next day (June 6) to a neighboring swamp 

 where I had seen a pair of the birds. After a short search 1 

 started the female, who sat very closely, merely dropping to 

 the ground as I brushed past the nest, and quickly gliding 

 out of sight, simulating lameness like the female of the first 

 nest. I waited fully half an hour before she returned ac- 

 companied by her mate. Both birds chirped like a Parula, 

 and finally the female went to the nest and resumed incuba- 

 tion. I crept cautiously to within three feet of her, and 

 looked at her for a few moments, then retreating to a proper 

 distance, shot her on the nest. I afterward secured the 

 male also, but not easily, for he was unusually shy. This 

 nest, like the first, was built in a cane over a pool of stag- 

 nant water, but it was placed higher — at least six feet above 

 the water. It contained one young bird just hatched and two 

 eggs, addled, but in every way perfect." 

 "These eggs, with the nest in which they were found, have 

 been yery kindly sent me by Mr. Wayne for examination 

 and description. The nest is a remarkable affair, composed 

 mainly of leaves— chiefly of the red maple (Acer ruhrum), 

 sweet* gum (Liquidamber styraciflua), water oak (Quereus 

 aqnolica) and cane (Arundiiuxria tecta) — bleached by the sun 

 and winds or stained by long immersion in swamp water, 

 and loosely impacted in a large and nearly globular mass, 

 one side of which rests between, but is in no way fastened 

 to, the upright stem and nearly upright, slightly diverging, 

 fascicled branches of a cane ; the bottom of the structure being 

 about four inches above the point of junction of the main 

 stem and its fascicle. As only a little more than one-third 

 of the circumference of the nest is inclosed by these supports 

 it is probable that they were forced slightly outward during 

 the process of building, for otherwise they could scarcely 

 clasp this small portion with sufficient firmness to sustain the 

 weight of the whole. The sides of the mass round inward 

 at the top, which, however, is round and flat as if a perfect 

 globe had been first formed and the top afterward sliced off. 

 Sear the inner edge of ,tkis flat surface is the nest proper, a 

 deep, neatly-rounded, cup-shaped hollow, smoothly and very 

 prettily lined with needles of the short-leaved pine (Pinu-s 

 mitis) and a few fine black roots, which curiously resemble 

 horse hairs. The inner walls of this cavity next the sup- 

 porting canes are only about half an inch in thickness, but 

 its outer rim is bordered by a platform from one and one-half 

 to two inches in width. Many of the leaves on the outer 

 edge of this platform are fixed with their stems pointing ob- 

 liquely upward and outward, forming a bristling fringe, an 

 arrangement which may have been accidental, or perhaps 

 was intended to give the exterior a natural and inconspicu- 

 ous appearance. " If the latter, the design was most happily 

 conceived, for from the. outside the whole affair looks like a 

 bunch of old leaves. Something very like it might be made 

 by taking the nest of our oven bird (Siurus au-ricapUlm), 

 tearing off the domed top, and pressing one side down among 

 a cluster of elastic sprouts. In a word, it is a ground nest 

 placed in a bush, or rather a hybrid between the ground and 

 bush types of bird architecture, loosely, yet on the whole 

 Substantially constructed, planned with rare cunning, and 

 admirably calculated to escape detection from prying eyes. 



The interior cavity measures 1.75+ in diameter by 1.50 in 

 depth; the entire nest externally 4.00 across the top, 4,50 in 

 horizontal diameter at the middle, and about 4.00 in total 

 depth. 



The other nest is described to me by Mr. Wayne as "a rude 

 structure, in fact a mere bunch of leaves, chiefly of the sweet 

 gum and cane, lined almost entirely with 'pine straw,' some 

 rootlets, and a few strands of horse hair. Although rough 

 outwardly, I must say that it is beautifully finished inside." 



*8ee Forest and Stream, Nov. 6, 1884, pp. 285, 886, and the Auk, 

 Vol. IT., No. 1, January, 1885. pp. 65-80. 



tTne measurements given in this article are all in inches and their 

 hundredths. 



The eggs measure respectively .75x. 59 and .74x.59. The 

 one giving the former dimensions is almost perfectly 

 elliptical, the opposite ends being essentially uniform in 

 size and outline. The other is more oval but its smaller end 

 is still decidedly blunt and rounded. In color both are dull, 

 dead white with a bluish tinge, so faint that it is appreciable 

 only in certain lights or when the specimen is placed on 

 white cotton or by the side of a perfectly white egg, as that 

 of a swallow or woodpecker. The shell is smooth to the 

 touch but under a glass shows rather numerous pits or pores. 

 It has a moderate polish, more than that of a swallow's egg, 

 less than that of most woodpeckers'. At first sightboth eggs 

 appear immaculate and one is really absolutely so. The other 

 has a single small round spot of a deep golden brown color. 

 This will not rub off under a free application of water and 

 as much friction as I have dared to use; but nevertheless I 

 am inclined to consider it merely some accidental stain. 



The. character of these nests, their position, and the color 

 of the eggs which one of them contained, are all alike unex- 

 pected. One would have predicted that the bird would prove 

 to be a ground builder, that its nest would be closely con- 

 cealed, and that the eggs would be distinctly spotted; all of 

 which goes to show how very idle any speculation in such 

 cases is likely to prove. In respect to the eggs, it is possible 

 that they may be normally spotted. If always immaculate, 

 they will be unique in this respect among the eggs of North 

 American Sylvicolidw. This point probably requires further 

 investigation, but in a general way the mystery hitherto en- 

 veloping the breeding of Swainson's warbler may be said to 

 be ended. The thanks of ornithologists at large are certainly 

 due Mr. Wayne for his important services in this connection, 

 services performed at no small risk to health, if not life 

 itself, for the Southern canebrakes reek with malaria, and 

 moccasin snakes are dangerous neighbors. But in spite of 

 these obstacles the life history of the interesting bird has 

 been worked out nearly to the end, and the pages that re- 

 main to be added are comparatively few and unimportant. 



THE WHITE GOAT. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



On my return, quite recently, from Europe, my attention 

 was drawn to your issues of Feb. 26 and March 12, contain- 

 ing what you quite rightly characterize as very interesting 

 contributions to our knowledge of the white Rocky Mountain 

 goat {Aploc&rus montanus), by the pens of Captain Bendire, 

 Mr. S. Garman, and "W. N. B.," information elicited ap- 

 parently by a paper of mine in the December Century, in 

 which I attempted to give some account of the habits and 

 chase of this animal. Captain Bendire's valuable notes con- 

 cerning the distribution of the antelope goat to regions so far 

 south (36° N.L.) as Mount Whitney are indeed most interest- 

 ing, and I am glad 1 limited my own remarks on this subject 

 in the Century, ' 'No authentic instance is known to me of its 

 appearance south of 45° N.L ," for when I wrote the article, 

 almost two years ago, I certainly, in spite of the great pains 

 I took, knew or could learn of no authentic record proving 

 this southerly extension of its zone, and to repeat the usual 

 western hearsay information is, as Captain Bendire no doubt 

 himself knows, not conducive to assist serious study. His 

 authoritative addition to our knowledge of what, from my 

 personal cognizance, I have every reason to believe, is, I 

 need hardly say, very welcome to me and no doubt also to 

 others interested in this subject. 



Concerning the weight and measurement of the great ram 

 killed by a friend (Mr. F. Medhurst, a noted English sports- 

 man, whose word I personally guarantee), which I mention 

 in the Century to have been between 300 and 400 pounds and 

 who taped round the withers 7 feet 84 inches, I should per- 

 haps have added that, according to my experience, rams of 

 this size are the exception. I have never killed an Aplocerus 

 heavier than about 180 pounds, but then I never got a really 

 large male, though I have seen some that must have equalled 

 my friend's ram. The pages of the Century were hardly the 

 place to enter into a disquisition concerning the weight and 

 size of exceptionally large rams; but as this subject happens 

 to have interested me a good deal for the past eight or nine 

 years, I now would like to recur to it briefly. In the first 

 instance, let me inclose for your inspection the photograph 

 of a five ram, no less an individual than a very famous giant 

 ram, which was caught alive some fifteen years back in the 

 Cable Mountains, near Deerlodge City, Mont., and which 

 was kept for some time at the latter place. I did not see the 

 live animal, for he died before my first visit to Montana. 

 Kuowing satisfactorily that what I heard of the size of this 

 brute would meet with some head-shaking doubts in Europe, 

 I took pains to collect written and oral testimony from ten 

 respectable citizens of Deerlodge, including the two men who 

 photographed him, the latter's names and addresses being 

 Thos. H. Rutter, Butte City, M. T., and Wm. Hyde, Deer- 

 lodge City, M. T., who, I have no doubt, will be glad to 

 repeat the information they gave me. These ten men were, 

 as I say, as trustworthy sources of information as one can 

 find in the home of tall talk. They had all seen the animal 

 weighed and measured, and they all agreed that it scaled 

 480 pounds a fortnight after it was caught (or brought 

 down), and that it taped round the withers over 8 feet. 



Only those entirely ignorant of the subject will express 

 doubt concerning the measurement round the withers— what- 

 ever they may think of the weight— for old males of this 

 species have a very distinct hump, in proportton quite as 

 pronounced as that of the American bison, for the top of it 

 is at least eighteen inches over the level of a horizontal line 

 drawn between the eyes and the root of the tail. Besides 

 this their great depth of chest is quite out of proportion to 

 their other dimensions, added to which the immensely thick 

 coat of these shaggy monsters adds naturally very consider- 

 ably to the span of the tapeline, more particularly so in 

 late spring (when Mr. Medhurst shot his ram) before they 

 have shed their tangled and matted winter coat. It is hardly 

 necessary to point out that dogs were used in the capture of 

 the Deerlodge ram and in that of the other goats secured alive 

 by the hunters. By no other means, save perhaps some 

 fantastical and entirely visionary drugging scheme such as 

 Munchhausen speaks of, could goats be approached within 

 lassoing distance. That 400 or 500 pound rams are not so 

 exceedingly rare would appear from a letter in the London 

 Field of May 15, 1885, in which a sportsman, apparently an 

 American, for his communication is dated Fort Keogh, de- 

 scribes the shooting of such a beast. His words are, "This 

 ram, we judged, weighed nearly 500 pounds. His girth was 

 fully six feet." He was shot in October, when they bear 

 their summer coat, and this circumstance no doubt explains 

 his smaller girth as compared to my friend's big ram, the 

 difference in the density and hence volume of the summer 

 and winter coats being very great, greater than in any other 

 animal known to me. 



Even Captain Bendire's big ram, which he says weighed 

 250 pounds when dressed, must have come close to 300 

 pounds live weight. 



The easiest way to hunt the goat is with dogs, but it is not 

 the true sportsmanlike manner, and it soon drives the goats 

 away from a locality. The Kootenay Indians in British 

 Columbia hunt them exclusively with dogs, but considering 

 the vastness of their natural preserves, it does not matter so 

 much. I may mention to those interested in the chase of 

 the Aplocerus that in the London Field of September 16, 

 1882, May 5, 1883, and June 23. 1883. I give detailed ac- 

 counts of the chase and habitat of this game. 



I notice that in a footnote you state "that the American 

 Museum of Natural History at Central Park has one or more 

 individuals of this species. The museum in question may 

 have them now, but certainly in May, 1883, when I stayed a 

 day longer in New York than I had intended specially for 

 the purpose of seeing these specimens of which I had heard, 

 1 could not find any trace of them, and the presiding official 

 appeared to know nothing of them when I showed him the 

 photograph of the big ram to assist identification. 



On one point I can not join issue with Captain Bendire, 

 namely that Colorado, Wyoming or Central Montana harbor 

 these animals, except in very isolated instances such as are 

 mentioned by Mr. S. Garman and "W. N. B." I and others 

 have looked for them in those districts pretty thoroughly, 

 and we were fooled pretty thoroughly every time. 



Concerning the letter of Mr. J. C. "Hughes, in your issue 

 of February 5, in which he sees fit to criticise my informa- 

 tion and draw my veracity into question, I can only say Mr. 

 Hughes will have to acquire first of all the rudiments of the 

 ordinary amenities governing discussions in public print 

 before he can expect that notice will be taken of his criti- 

 cisms, even were they more reasonable than those he gives 

 expression to. Wm. A. Baillie-Gkotimax. 



Boston, June 13, 1S85. 



[A drawing from the photograph will be published.] 



THE ROMANCE OF MOTH HUNTING. 



THIS old-fashioned garden, with its wealth of rose trees, 

 its closely-trimmed borders of box, flower-beds in 

 squares and triangles, ovals and circles, and the ancient sun 

 dial, erect as a sentinel, standing in the midst of its puzzle of 

 paths, has always yielded a rich harvest to the entomologist. 



As the glory of day grows, and the sunbeams warm the 

 fragrance of the blooms into life, the bees begin to arrive, 

 and soon the roses are alive with them, thrusting aside the 

 soft petals with their tiny feet, as they bury themselves bodily 

 in the flowers, to sip the nectar which has slowly accumu- 

 lated during the cool of night. 



Each individual of the little gauzy winged imps is singing 

 at his work, and the air is filled with that all-pervading hum 

 of insects which accompanies the advent of a summer's day. 

 The orioles are at work among the cherries, and their gaudy 

 plumage, now visible, now hidden, glances among the leaves 

 as they sway in the breeze. The thrushes are struggling 

 with each other in a generous rivalry of song, and such a 

 burst of melody rises from the lilacs that the steady buzz-z 

 of the insect world is hushed almost to a whisper as it listens. 



In the full glare of noonday, how changed, how listless 

 all appears; nothing stirs, and not until the shadows begin 

 to lengthen, and the heat waves cease their pulsations over 

 the paths, does the restless spirit of the morning revive. A 

 few more hours of busy work for the bees, a few more 

 cherries for the orioles, and the twilight steals down, shroud- 

 ing the rose trees and the lilacs, and the many quaint old- 

 fashioned growths that bud and blossom there with its ved 

 of mystery. 



"The shadows of the evening hours, 



Fall from the darkening sky. 

 Upon the fragrance of the flowers 

 The dews of evening lie." 



The pungent odor of the box is now mingling with the 

 incense of the flowers, and the long wands of roses, under a 

 gentle movement of the air, are bowing to one another across 

 the walks with that courtly grace, learned long ago from the 

 stately dames and gallants, who used to promenade here, 

 still visible in their bearing. The busy workaday buzz of 

 the sunshine no longer vibrates in our ears, but in its stead 

 the chirrup and call of little piping voices is rising from 

 every nook and corner of the damp coverts on every hand. 



Now and again there comes to us the faint rustling of the 

 breeze in the tops of the poplars and between the lulls; ring- 

 ing whistles and deep bass voices from the meadows beyond 

 tell us that the frogs are holding high carnival. That bed of 

 phlox yonder is a great attraction to the honey seekers; let us 

 examine it. See ! There is something moving over its fra- 

 grant puffs of bloom. Gone? No, there it is back again. 

 Where is the net? Carefully now. Swish! Missed it? But alas, 

 the phlox has suffered, as those broken stems and that tuft of 

 flowers at your feet will testify. This netting moths does 

 not leqnire such an energetic effort; such tremendous swoops 

 make havoc among the flowers, and even if a capture result 

 the specimen is often so bruised as to be almost worthless. 

 A careful approach to your victim, seen indistinctly at the 

 best, as it hovers on silent wing, a rapid horizontal sweep, a 

 quick turn of the wrist which causes the long net to fall to 

 one side over the edge of the hoop, effectually closing all out- 

 let, and the uninjured prize is yours. The light netting 

 enfolds him, and though not so heavy as to crush, it still pre- 

 vents those struggles for liberty which often destroy the fra- 

 gile forms of these twilight beauties. 



A Sphinx so dazed with his sudden capture as to have 

 forgotten to curl up his long proboscis, is taken from the 

 net. We will not sacrifice him, as the dried mummies of 

 several of his brethren already adorn our case. Whirr ! He 

 is off in an instant. There is a charm in the surroundings of 

 this spot, at this witching hour, that is lacking at other times, 

 the indistinctness with which one sees, and the fantastic 

 snapes, assumed by shrub and plant in the dusk. Whoz-z! 

 A lumbering beetle wheels about your head, seen only for an 

 instant against the sky, as he clears the bushes and blusters 

 on out of sight into the gloom. How keen the enjoyment 

 over the capture of some gorgeous Cecropia, or when the 

 careful unfolding of the net from its fluttering captive reveals 

 the light green swallow tails of a superb Luua. What an 

 exquisite blending of colors on the downy wings before us. 

 All the wondrous glows of sunset, cool grays, orange and jet, 

 and the most brilliant scarlets and yellows, interspersed with 

 rich olives and salmons, varying with the different size and 

 species of the wearer. The lordly Imperial with his yellow 

 coat dashed with purple, the smaller, but equady brilliant 

 Saturnia Io, with its argus-eyed wings, or that most magnifi- 

 cent fellow, the Regal walnut moth, with olive and yellow 

 and orange red, in lines and dots and stripes, the king of all. 



