Bet-t, 17, 1885.1 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



14 3 



have I ever seen lliem so abundant and so tame as they were 

 on tliis ground. By many sportsmen and by nearly all who 

 are not sportsmen the sandhill crane Is considered worthless 

 to eat. Its name is unfortunate as well as its shape, for 

 most people think a crane is a crane and can be nothing else. 

 The thousands who turn ifp their noses at the sandhill crane 

 are just as wise as the raaii who won't eat eels because they 

 resemble suakes, and is afraid to try frogs' legs because a 

 frog is lilce a toad. The sandhill crane ha& little in comnaon 

 wilh the herons, bitterns, and egrets, all of which are com- 

 monly called cranes. Its general shape, however, is sufBcient 

 to make the crowd class it with the tish eaters. But it is as 

 different from them as a mallard is from the sheldrake or 

 looD. The sandhill may possibly, like the mallard, eat fish 

 or bugs from necessity, bat when it can get plenty of grain 

 or grass it is a vegetarian. Though it goes occasionally on 

 wet ground it generally frequents the high, dry uplands, and 

 water seems not at all essential to its comfort, as it does to that 

 of other cranes. Here it feeds entirely upon corn and cotton 

 seed, as do the brant and large ducks, and it becomes very 

 fat. When the sandhill crane is in good condition from 

 feeding upon wlicat, corn, etc., no finer flavored bird of its 

 size flies the aii'. Steaks cut from the breast of a young one and 

 broiled with butter will convince the most sceritical. And 

 an old one parboiled for an hour or so, then stuffed and well 

 roasted will walk off with the affections of the most particu- 

 lar epicm-e . 



In other respects he is fully worthy of the most skillful 

 sportsman's attention. No bird, not even the turkey, is more 

 wHd or more wary than the sandhill crane generally is; and, 

 in general, it requires even more care to get within certain 

 rifleshot of one than to get within certain rifleshot of a deer 

 or antelope. To get near enough to one to kill it with the 

 shotgun is nest to impossible, except by concealment upon 

 the Tine of its flight. Even then the concealment must be 

 nearly perfect, and the shooter must remain motionless until 

 the bird is too close to escape by turning aside or vising. 

 The slightest motion of the head to watch its coming, or of 

 the gun to get it in readiness to shoot, is apt to be fatal to 

 your success. It is, indeed, easy to hit when once within 

 reach of the shotgun. And so is the wild turkey. But 

 there is skill enough requu-ed to get a shot to give to its 

 pursuit all the flavor of hunting of the highest order. 



On these grounds it seems to have relaxed its caution to an 

 extraordinary degree, and becomes comparatively easy to 

 shoot. I say comparatively because it is still actmxlly quite 

 wild. But here it is possible by the use of caution and good 

 judgment to make a handsome bag of cranes almost any day 

 without resorting to either pits in the ground for conceal- 

 ment or to decoys to bring them within reach. Whereas, 

 on most grounds in the United States where thej^ are found 

 it is impossible to get one with the shotgun without using 

 such aids. Over a tract of ground some ten miles in dia- 

 meter these birds are here found in immense numbers. 

 (3ften a hundred flocks, each containing from twenty to 

 eighty or ninety birds, may be seen in the air at once, some 

 swinging low along the tops of the corn, others drifting far 

 away on high, while from almost every^ corn or cotton-field 

 comes the long-drawn grrrrrrr of cranes feeding among the 

 stalks. Where the fields are more open they may be seen 

 standing in dignified array watching you at a distance with 

 their long bluish-gray necks and heads, looking almost white 

 in the sunshine, or else rising in a wild confusion of flapping 

 gray with uproarious grrrrrrrs from the cotton or corn as the 

 hand-car rolls along. 



If this crane be so worthy of the sportsman's regard, what 

 shall we say of his great white brother the white sandhiU, 

 sometimes called (if I remember rightly) the whooping crane. 

 This is perhaps the most rare and dilflcult bird in North 

 America to shoot. Many .sportsmen who have shot all over 

 the United States have never seen one, and few indeed are 

 the men who have ever bagged one. Twenty years ago, 

 upon the wildest grounds there were in Illinois, where the 

 common sandhill was abundant, comparatively few speci- 

 mens of the white one could be seen and these generally 

 kept far out upon the open prairie and could not be ap- 

 proached even within rifle shot. All attempts to get on 

 their line of flight were generally useless, for they either 

 rose too high when disturbed or were so wary that they 

 would see the hunter lying ahead of them. Many a year 

 had j)assed since last I saw this beautiful bird, until last 

 winter I saw them near Lerdo. Here they are more abun- 

 dant than in any other place where I have ever seen them. 

 Far away in the zenith you may see them sometimes 

 about rnidday floating like specks of down in long 

 circles and spiral lines, sending down through two or 

 three miles of air a long note as ringing and clear as the blast 

 of a bugle. Sometimes one will see three or four of them 

 mingled with the other cranes, flying with them in orderly 

 array, and keeping time to their stroke of wing, their long- 

 necks and legs outstretched in the same way, their snowy 

 raiment, all spotless except the glossy black band that tips 

 the huge white wings, contrasting strangely with the ashy 

 gray and blue of their comrades. Sometimes one sees a few 

 standing with upraised head and watchful eye out upon the 

 open fields, and once in a while, though rarely, they skim 

 low above the corn. This bird is fully equal, if not superior, 

 in flavor to the other sandhill, but is much wilder and in- 

 finitely rarer. I saw one fiock in Durango containing nearly 

 two hundred. But with that exception I have found them 

 only in small companies of three or four, and but few of 

 these companies in a day. Though abundant here com- 

 pared with their numbers in the United States, they are still 

 quite rare and are found only by dozens where the others 

 may be numbered by thousands. 



To have good success witli either of these cranes here one 

 must make a bed of corn stalks and either sit or lie down 

 upon it and bend a lot of them together over his head for a 

 partial blind. There one should .stay and keep perfectlj^ 

 quiei until one can hear the soft sound of their wings. By 

 tiiat time they are too close to get away. But there is no 

 safety in any motion, however cautious, or in showing your 

 face. You should not shoot at anything else, no matter how 

 tempting the opportunity. Should you be upon open ground 

 and see a flock coming toward you low enough to shoot, 

 about the only way to obtain a smre sliot is to lie down at 

 once upon your face, and do so behind a bush or in a hollow 

 of the ground, or in grass or weeds if possible. Lay your 

 gun beneath you and lie perfectly still without showing your 

 face until you hear their wings over you. Then jump with 

 all the quickness of which you are master, and you may see 

 one come whirling down from before each barrel. 



I tried to persuade my friends to confine theu' attention to 

 cranes, and use all their caution about hiding. But I could 

 not convince them that they could not get both cranes and 

 ducks at the same time ; and finding that for most of the 

 ducks concealment was almost unnecessary, and each one 



having with him for retriever a peon (all of whom dress in 

 white cotton), a bag of cranes was out of the question, 

 though dozens of flocks passed them just out of shot that 

 would have come within twenty yards had they been properly 

 hidden. 



That day reminded me of some of the brightest of days 

 gone by. It was all in all such a day as I had never ex- 

 pected to see again. One of my companions, a gentleman of 

 wealth and leisure, whose name stands at the head of the 

 crack shots of England, told me he had never seen its equal, 

 though he had shot all over the world. Many a time before 

 I have seen far more ducks, and seen them fly in denser 

 ranks, and whizz even nearer to ray head ; but 1 never saw 

 such a steady succession of clqse shots during the middle of 

 the day. On every hand ducks, brant and crane were flying 

 about of their own motion; on every hand they were rising 

 with obstreperous wing and shining ranks from the fields as 

 we advanced ; on every hand ducks already started were 

 circling around us, setting their wings and hissing down 

 from above to alight in almost the same place from which 

 we had started thorn; and on every hand at the report of .a 

 guu the heavy beat of hundreds of wings would arise from 

 places from which so many birds had already arisen that we 

 supposed them qinte bare of anything more. 



E'lsy as this shooting was it still savored too much of 

 work. I knew that -something better could be had. So 1 

 posted one of mj^ friends in one place, and another in an- 

 other, while I took four peons and went around among the 

 neighboring fields where ducks were alighting by thousands, 

 to keep tliem stirred up. It was a veritable "drive" of 

 ducks. Tlie amount of ground freshly irrigated did not 

 exceed over a mile square, and no amount of disturbance 

 could drive the ducks from it. Though they alight readily 

 enough in any of the fields that are wet, and though there 

 were thousands of acres of such ground on every side con- 

 taining ducks, yet the majority seemed crazy about the 

 freshly irrigated' tracts. Tliey rose in dark sheets from one 

 spot, and without even circling about in indecision, set their 

 wings and slid down the air to another not half a mile away. 

 Sometimes they rose in tier after tier from the corn, those in 

 the rear just rising above the corn and passing over a thou- 

 sand comrades to alight a short distance ahead, as black- 

 birds often do. Single ducks went whizzing about in all 

 directions, seeming more bewildered than those in flocks, 

 but few of them would leave the place. But the brant anil 

 cranes left at once and staid away. Many a flock of the 

 gray sandhill cranes came steering toward us from faraways 

 but rose high in air as they came within half a mile of the 

 uproar. Away on the edge of the tumult I could see the 

 white ones turn off and leave us a mile on one side. 



I doubt if there was a native within a mile who did not 

 quit work or stop in his travels and wait until the sport was 

 over. G-roups of peons, all clad in white cotton, gathered 

 upon the railroad embankment and climbed upon the hand- 

 car, where they could see better, and kept the interval be- 

 tween the reports of the guns well tilled with expressive 

 carajos and curamhas. Others on horseback stretched out 

 backward full length upon the horse and laughed as though 

 they would split whenever a duck came plunging from above 

 at an unusually^ long shot. 



My English friends had both been in "a hot corner" in 

 battues at home, but had never seen so many birds fiy over 

 them as they did that day. In about an hour after the drive 

 fairly commenced they had emptied both pockets and sacks 

 of the cartiidges they had taken with them and we had to 

 stop. We ran into Lerdo that afternoon with the hand-car 

 loaded down, there to meet a storm of carajos and cammhas 

 and other ejaculations too expressive for print, such as the 

 good old State of Durango had not heard for many a year. 



During all my hunting in Mexico I have found the people 

 exceedingly obUging and polite. Instead of ordering me off 

 they have come out and shown me where game was. Peons 

 have followed me about like children, taking as much 

 pleasure in the shooting as I did, plunging into the water 

 and mud like a dog to retrieve a duck. They will do it for 

 nothing if one is mean enough to let them, but will feel well 

 repaid with twenty-five cents or a pair of ducks. It is prob- 

 able enough that an American market shooter would not re- 

 main long in favor, as the Mexicans generally do not look 

 upon the eradication of all that is fair in nature with the 

 same composure with which the American sees his landscape 

 swept bare to tickle the palates of city swells who are too 

 lazy or too stupid to appreciate game anywhere but on a 

 plate. But one shooting only for pleasure may feel assured 

 of kind treatment. 



Much apprehension exists in the United States about 

 visiting Mexico. But a gentlemen who behaves himself as 

 he would in any other foreign country, will be treated well 

 by every one. In fact it is marvellous how well the Mexicans 

 do treat the Americans in view of the way the most of them 

 have acted here. Foreigners acting in the same way in the 

 United States would in twenty-four hours have heads that 

 would puzzle a phrenologist.' I have found among my 

 countrymen here many true gentlemen, who are as much 

 respected by the Mexicans as anybody. But the majority of 

 them I am most heartily ashamed of, and it is a standing 

 wonder to me that the Mexicans tolerate them as they dio. 

 As for myself, I must say that I have never been treated 

 better in my life than during the five months I have spent in 

 Mexico. ' T. S . Vaj^Dyks,. 



"You talk about dogs," said the judge, " you talk about 

 dogs — can tell you the funniest story about a dog." "Did 

 you know the dog r" said the doctor, "fdid. This dog belong- 

 ed to a friend of mine, who used always to take him out -svith 

 him." "A bad tiabit," put in the doctor; "you should never let 

 a dog know too much. " ' 'The dog used to wait outside for Mm 

 when he went in to call on a friend. One night they were a 

 very merry party and they kept it up late. My Mend got 

 very drunk. The dog finally got restless and began to howl. 

 A champagne bottle passed his nose and he snieit it and sliut 

 up. About 2 o'clock in the morning my^ friend came out. He 

 said good night, shut the door, watked by the garden gate all 

 over the flower beds, and finally unable to get out, he laid 

 down on a rosebush and went to sleep. The dog watched by 

 him till the milkman came along in the morning, picked him 

 up and took him home." "That's nothing," said' the doctoi-. 

 " Y'ou just wait a minute. Two or thi-ee nights later he went 

 and called on his fi-iend again and took the dog with him. 

 The dog waited outside a little while and began again to howl. 

 Another champagne bottte was thrown at him. He smelt it, 

 winked to himself, and trotted off. He went home, scratched 

 at the door till the servant girl opened it, attracted my friend's 

 wife's attention, made her foUow him to a pile ot planks and 

 whined tih they got out a very long and broad one. Then he 

 du-ected them to where his master was, and when tUe dnor 

 bell rang and the door opened, the revelere found the dog, my 

 friend's wife, the servant and a steretcher, The dog knew 

 what was needed, you bet." ' ' VV^ell," said the doctor, ' 'I thought 

 I knew aU the dog stories, but that's a new one." — Detroit 

 Free Press, 



JLddrem all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ing Co, 



NATURAL HISTORY OFTHE WHITE PINE 



IT IS fitting when important measures are prominent to 

 add even a small amount to the general knowledge on 

 the question involved, if that can be' done, since it is often 

 the case that tho.se who profess to know the most, flounder 

 about in uncertainties, and like geese in a fog, only show 

 by noise their need of sun or stars to tell their'position and 

 course. We need facts and figures; and these the present 

 article aims to supply. 



Forestry, a subject ever important, is receiving more at- 

 tention at the present time than at any former period, and 

 especiafly in this country, where the pursuit of wealth 

 sweeps all before it, regardless as the hosts of Attila that 

 desert and desolation follow its track. At present the 

 course of thought is like a procession of mourners. The 

 direst calamities are presented as the inevitable result of 

 the destruction of our forests; remedies multiply, some im- 

 mediate, some remote, many impracticable, while not one 

 has touched the great law of compensation in nature, the 

 succession and reproduction of foliate life. Not one has 

 dared to assume what is here done without fear of philosophic 

 contradiction ; that the creative force, that which gives life 

 to matter is, back of all, just as active to-day, just as potent 

 as it was "in the beginning," and that the earth is now a 

 thousand fold better able to produce vegetable life without 

 seed than it was as that remote period. What but creative 

 force produced the tree that produced the seed at first? And 

 tell me, if you can and dare to do so, what creative force 

 has died or lost its power? That schoolboy philosopher 

 who sought the fountain of life and gave out at a protoplasm, 

 brought out from one soul at least in its anguish the ex- 

 clamation, "Blockhead, why did j'ou not slop at an elephant, 

 just as near the origin of life, as at a protoplasm, because 

 some child might ask what an elephant was and you could 

 tell him, you could add to his knowledge, you could raise 

 him in the scale of intelligence ; but the same question, j ust 

 as sensible in regard to the protoplasm must be answered, if 

 at all, by, 'There is nothing to it, nothing to describe;' and 

 thus jour gi-eat subject of life has petered out until there is 

 nothing left, absolutely nothing. One thing you might have 

 known at first, or should at least have learned in the pur- 

 suit, that the principle of life is with the Infinite and not 

 committed to your care nor mine." 



In our researches among these mysteries in nature the work 

 is poorly done if we fail to mark those points where the 

 phenomena find analogy and counterpart in human life, and 

 also where human life has wonderful illustration in other 

 departments than its own. We find, in fact, distributed 

 among animals, every trait of human character, and we find 

 combined in human character, aU we find in the orders of 

 life below us. "Survival of the fittest" — that paradoxical, 

 unexplainable, murderous law in nature, so often referred to 

 by evolutionists — has striking illustration in the growth of the 

 white pine. It is hterally with that tree from the beginning 

 a struggle for life regardless of the life of others. The law 

 is, in effect, prostrate the weaker, crush the feeble and lowly 

 beside you, break down and destroy all rivalry, and in 

 every case make the dead and the dying contribute their life 

 and substance to your own aggrandizement. 



Not a rifle shot from my birthplace a gi'ove of white pine 

 covering two abres has grown, culminated and passed away. 

 My first recollection is of when the trees were some twenty-five 

 feet high, almost thick as a canebrake, and quite as straight 

 and graceftil. The tops were so interwoven that no ray of 

 the sun could penetrate below, consequently a deep soft car- 

 pet of needles covered the ground, and not one green leaf- of 

 the humblest plant could be found upon it. It was at that 

 time, in the year 1820, the most beautiful gi-ove of white 

 pine in all New England. I could step from tree to tree over 

 the entire surface. My father supplemented any remark on 

 its beauty with the statement. "When at seven years old I 

 came from Hebron, Conn., there was a field of wheat on 

 that lot." This woidd make the grove at the present time 

 just about 100 years old. One year' ago the timber, much of 

 it two and a half and three feet in diameter, was sold stand- 

 ing for $1,300 and was aU cutoff. Here we reach an im- 

 portant fact, the first reliable data in the growth of white 

 pine in its first century. We also reach the profits of that 

 growth on two acres of land unfit for cultivation and 

 abandoned after the first crop. But this was not all, for for 

 half a century there had been constant draft on the grove for 

 light building and fencing purposes, by the dying of a few 

 trees and by thinning out the crowded parts.' The pheno- 

 mena of its growth and the multiplied uses to which the 

 pine is applied make its history of pecuniary value as well 

 as an interesting study to us; certainly no other tree shows 

 such diversity of character, such extremes of value growing 

 side by side; 'no other tree on the earth ministers so largely 

 to the comforts and necessities of civiUzed and enlightened 

 life. 



The most prominent and important characteristic is a cen- 

 ti'al spike shooting upward with each year and leaving with 

 each shoot a circle of horizontal branches at its base. This 

 central spike and the horizontal branches are covered with 

 needles paired together, of a deep green color; and these re- 

 main through the winter. The succeeding spring conies a 

 second shoot, the same spike, the same green needles, and 

 the same circle of horizontal branches at the base. The 

 third spring opens with a third shoot precisely like the 

 others. Consequently, in June and July we have three 

 lengths the growth of three years covered with the needle 

 foliage of its nature. In September the joint three years old 

 changes color and casts oft" its needles like all dead leaves. 

 And thus, paradoxical as it may seem, the needles fall evei-y 

 year, although none fall until three years old. But this is a 

 general characteristic of all evergreen trees. The balsam and 

 spruce vary somewhat, retaining foliage longer than the pine 

 and of course more dense and heavy than that tree. When 

 this central spike is growing it is green, has a sweet, piny 

 taste, is succulent and juicy, but so tender that a thought- 

 less bird seizing upon it and endeavoring to balance on the 

 unsteady perch breaks it down and the growth seems en- 

 tirely spoiled. But it is only a temporary setback, however; 

 the largest horizontal branch at its base turns its central 

 spike upward and by right of the strongest assumes to be 

 "head of the family." The smaller branches, of which there 

 may be a dozen in the circle, acknowledge the right by giv- 

 ing up life and substance "to the fittest," except'where one 

 directly opposite is equally strong. In that case they ap- 

 proach each other and in a few years two trunks stand per- 

 pendicular with no trace of horizontal opposition remaining 



