144 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Sept. 17, 1885. 



The growth of the pine in the first year is of little conse 

 quence. It is simpty a green cone, wide as it is high, Jiable 

 to be trampled down by cattle, cut off by scythe or mowing 

 machine, and really worthless. But escaping these, it is 

 silently laying in strength for after life, so that at five years 

 cattle walk round rather than over it. The growth and 

 strength now double with each year, until at fifteen, per- 

 haps, n reaches the maxitnum point. I have one spike 

 •lorty-lwo inches in length, the growth of a single j^ear at 

 that age. After that the yearly growth decreases in length, 

 until at the height of 140 feet capillary attraction and 

 natural forces fail and a scraggy, horizontal cap surmounts 

 the whole. 



But the tree is yet below middle life. If left to a course 

 of nature, perhaps two centuries are yet before it. In the 

 second century, as it can grow no higher, it makes a diame- 

 ter of six feet where the first gave only three, the natural 

 forces all absorbed in depositinsr wood fiber on the outside. 

 It IS from this outer coat, this growth of the second century, 

 that what is termed "clear stufiE" is obtained. Another 

 thing. The second century opens the capillary tubes, and 

 gives to the timber a quality of rift which the growth of the 

 first does not reach; the old pines can be split into sheets or 

 shingles while the trees of one century must be cut by 

 machiaery. In the first twenty years the growth is rapid, 

 the fiber is soft and corky, cousequently in the second cen- 

 tm-y this center is liable to decay, and the great tnmk be- 

 comes hcUow from the ground upward. In view of this 

 lact, with the facilities of machinery in its manufacture, and 

 more than aU, the long credit of two centufies for its full 

 maturity, it is altogether probable that where the old stock 

 is exhausted, the reproduction will not be allowed to reach 

 the same age and perfection; but like the grove under con- 

 sideration, will be taken at the growth of one century as be- 

 ing the higliest point of its value and usefulness. 



Another point to be considered is the necessity of sun- 

 light, on which its very existence depends. I measured a 

 square rod of ground in a tliicket of white pine on which I 

 counted one hundred trees from two to ten feet high, and 

 forty of that hundred were already dead. The larger trees 

 overshadowed the lesser and Aveaker ones, their branches 

 united in a dense canopy above, shutting out entirely the 

 sunlight and its mysterious influence. The little trees sti-ug- 

 gled a while for life, then, withered and shrunken, gave up 

 the unequal contest in death, and as I said before, con- 

 tributed their fife and substance to the aggrandizement of 

 the power which destroyed them. Nor are even the '"fittest" 

 exempt, except in a measure, from this same law. The 

 higher Horizontal branches overshadow the lower, which die 

 and fall to the ground, and in time are overshadowed by new 

 branches above and with the same result. 



In this connection comes up the strange phenomena of 

 the utterly worthless character of the pine when gi-owing 

 alone in the open fields. There it throws out large, crooked 

 misshapen branches ahnost from the ground, seizing and 

 absorbing all the juices which should go to produce height 

 and majesty of form ; and so interwoven in its destiny is this 

 tendency that trees on the outer circle of this grove showed 

 invariably on tlie outside of the trunk, large, crooked 

 branches almost to the ground, while on the inner side, the 

 same trunk had not a hving branch in sLxty feet. In the 

 open field all branches reach the sunlight, although mainly 

 in horizontal iwsitions, and hence all live and arow with the 

 tree. Trimming is often resorted to, but is wasted labor. 

 It is good so far as the axe can reach perhaps, but what is a 

 clear trunk of six feet when there should be sixty. T saw 

 one tree standing alone, a beautiful trunk o* ten feet, and 

 ninety above that were gnarled and knotty, worthless even 

 for firewood. 



Another peculiarity in the growth of white pine is that 

 when cut down at any age, the root dies with tht trunk. It 

 is now the close of the second summer since the grove was 

 cut off. Hot a twig of evergreen can be found where the 

 pines stood, wlule every stick and stump of the hard wood 

 undergrowth, smashed down in removal of the pines, seemed 

 to start again with new life in sprouts from the root, ten- 

 fold in number and ten-fold in growth, because the roots all 

 lived,werc all drawing sustenance from the earth and without 

 legard to what was being done above ground, made this 

 forced growth a result. 



lu regard to reproduction, I speak of what has been done 

 on the estate where I was born. True, it was the middle 

 section of the pine belt where it crosses New England, and 

 of- coiu'se where the tree grows at its best; and yet in general, 

 wliat is true here is true of the belt in the circuit of the globe. 

 Tiie original stock, the growth of three centmies perhaps, 

 was cut off to clear the land for cultivation, but these two 

 acres were abandoned after the first crop as too arid and 

 stony to repay the agricultuiist. A few pines in the neigh- 

 borhood scattered seeds over the pasture, the onlv place 

 where they take root, one in ten thousand, and they grew 

 . thick and high, unnoticed and forgotten. But in all this 

 time they shot higher, the roots spread broader and deeper, 

 so that when the old stock was exhausted and men began to 

 look in despair at the desolation, lo and behold, forces in 

 nature had been silently at work to supply human wants in 

 the future, and also effectually teaching us a lesson of prud- 

 ence for all time. 



But I anticipate. When the trees of this grove had at- 

 tained their full height, with green branches near the top, 

 the sun agfiiu looked in and the whole order and condition 

 of things was changed. Vegetable life which had slept for 

 centuries seemed to awake suddenly, and we first noticed 

 that the whole two acres were covered with little trees thick 

 as a grain field, but hardly of the kind we should expect to 

 see. Not a pine tree among them, but nearly every other 

 tree known in that climate, and many whose seeds could not 

 have fallen on that ground in the centuries preceding. A ques- : 

 tion comes up then in regard to the fecundity and non-fecun- 

 dity of pine seeds. Whither went the seeds which fell from 

 these pines three-quarters of a century in yearly showers, 

 not one of which took root in the grove? And again, whence ^ 

 came the seeds of that young forest among the pines, not a ] 

 tree of the kind having stood on that ground while the pines i 

 lived? 



There are hundreds of acres along this valley densely cov- 1 

 ered with young pines which had been a summer jjasture a 

 quarter of a century, and which seemed to start into life all ] 

 at once, with not a seeding pine within a mile of them. t 



Seeds are a convenience, a necessity, in the interchange ^ 

 and distribution of climatic production, but let us remember c 

 that the creative force, that which made seeds at first, still i 

 lives, and by methods not known to us concentrates that | 

 principle of life in matter, and from which is evolved, r 

 through human agency it may be, the perfect form and c 

 quality that hfe was designed to produce. v 



In view of these facts, duplicated as they are beyond enu- 



meration, is it at all strange that one man at least looks be- 

 yond seeds and beyond succession for the germ, the origin 

 ot life, and only credits ignorance or insanitv with other 

 conclusion? 



We also see that it is not among the designs of Providence 

 that the "evergreen belt ' of our latitude shall pass from 

 sight. Ihere may be a "lean streak" between the two but 

 Keproduction is following the track of Decimation across the 

 contment as the Connecticut Valley demonstrates. The 

 mourners may dry their tears as the '"'calamities" fade in the 

 distance and patiently wait. They might perhaps enhven 

 the monotony of the "lean streak" by planting and pruning 

 pmes, but planting for one hundred years hence, and worth- 

 less at that except in thickets, is not a current benevolence 

 at the present day and not likely to be largely entered into 

 even by them. " ' 



The course pursued on this estate is unquestionably the 

 best, the only true one. In the last half century every nook 

 and corner not fit for cultivation has been given up to the 

 growth of pines as the young trees claimed squatter posses- 

 sion, and we now come down by regular succession from the 

 highest to the lowest. There are hundreds of trees now on 

 the estate rivaling in value the best in the grove. There is 

 one patch, an acre or two of younger trees 100 feet high; 

 another, two acres, 75 feet, three acres 50 feet, another, two 

 acres, 40 feet, another 25 feet, while little thickets of pine, 

 100 to the square rod, are too numerous to mention. 



And wha,t is the result of this foresight which has cost 

 comparatively nothing? Succession and abundant repro- 

 duction for the next hundred years and with it a lesson for 

 all time. 



Surely it is safest to follow nature's work in these things. 

 It is ours to assist, improve and beautify the work before 

 us, but if we mar that work the result has neither evasion, 

 palliation oi' forgiveness. If in our greed for present wealth 

 we sweep the "evergreen pine" from our latitude With no 

 effort for its reproduction, we shall justly receive the invective 

 and execrations of generations to come. B, Horsford. 

 North Thetfobd, Vt. 



^ The Ooi,oriKD Patcu in the Cuown of the Kinobird. 

 —Miior Forest II lid Streain: The kingbird, in common with 

 other members of the genus Tymnmcs, has a patch of 

 brilHantly colored feathers in the center of its crown. 

 When the bird is in repose this spot of color is concealed by 

 the adjacent feathers on each side. But it has the power of 

 retracting these latter at will in such a manner as to display 

 the bright orange feathers and the white bases of tlie black 

 ones adjoining. So far as I am aware, no satisfactory 

 theory has yet been advanced to aceount for the presence of 

 this spot, which is common to both sexes. Mr. Samuel L. 

 King, of Bristol, Tennessee, has suggested a novel theory for 

 its explanation. He writes me as follows: "I inclose here- 

 with a scalp of the bee martin or kingbird. You will 

 observe on blowing your breath upon it that a strong resem- 

 blance to a flower appears. I have never seen in any work 

 upon ornithology that this 'flower' is used to entice bees, but 

 from my observations I believe such to be the case. The 

 kingbird takes its position in the top of a low bush, weed or 

 tree, and spreads out the red and white feathers on its head 

 to resemble a flower. The honey bee (or other insect) comes 

 along, thinks he will get some honey from the bloom, goes 

 too near and is caught."— 0. Hart Merrtam, M.D. 



The White Goat.— Bun-ard Inlet, Sept. 2. — EMor Forest 

 and 8tream: In my letter on the mountain goat in your issue 

 of Aug. 13 either your printer made a mistake in reading my 

 copy or I made one in copying ray notes, as the figures you 

 give, viz. 3 feet 6 inches of length of goat should be 4 feet 

 6 inches. The other figures are cOTrect.— John Fahnin. 



0^^* 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ing Co. 



ON THE PLATTE.— I. 



"Wf E had spent the early fall in writing to parties Mving 

 V T along the Platte River in order to find the best place 

 for our annual crusade on the geese, and had at last settled 

 down upon Newarli, a small village on the B. & M. K. R , 

 about ten miles east of Kearney. In a few days after this 

 decision, our friend A. M. Brewer, a merchant up there and 

 withal an enthusiastic sportsman, wired us to come on. 

 Taking the first train for the West, leaving here at 10 that 

 night, our party, five in number, were dropped off at Newark 

 the next day at noon, and were at once conducted to a fai'm 

 house, about half a mile distant, where arrangements had 

 been made for boarding us, and which proved to be a most 

 enjoyable place. Dinner was awaiting us, and as soon as 

 that was dispatched we donned our hunting rig, climbed 

 into the big farm wagon behind an elegant span of horses, 

 and bowled away for the river, about a mile distant. Every 

 one was in high good humor, the weather was lovely, geese 

 reported as being abundant, and the horses, apparently tak- 

 ing on the enthusiasm, cantered off at a lively rate. But 

 just as we were making a short turn to come into the main 

 road, the wheel on the inside of the curve ran upon an old 

 barrel lying concealed in the weeds, and in a jiffy turned 

 the wagon over and piled the contents promiscuously upon 

 the ground. Every one was so hampered with toggery and 

 wading apparel that no one except Lanham made any effort 

 toward jumping out of the way. He was sitting in front 

 with the driver, and before our vehicle was fairly on its side 

 had landed about ten feet away in a patch of wild sun- 

 flowers, where he soon lay groaning as though every bone in 

 his body had been broken snap off. Young Hathaway had 

 fallen square across the body of his father, and Charley 

 Baum had been unloaded on top of me and given me a jolt 

 that hung to me two or three days. But after feeling Jack's 

 leg awhile, and assuring him thai he was making a deal of 

 fuss over a small matter, it was but a short while before we 

 were spinning away again, quite thankful that no bones had 

 been broken. 



The Platte, at Newark, is divided into three channels. 

 Brewer had selected the middle one for our base of oper- 

 ations. So, crossing the first, which was easily done in the 

 wagon, we drove over to the middle one and unloaded our 

 decoys and other piuaphernalia. At several points above, 

 where we struck tlie river, there was ciuite a showing of 

 geese on the bars, that had come in from the fields before 

 noon and were taking their afternoon sieasta prior to going 

 out for their last feed,. and the sight encouraged us to believe 

 we would have some fair sport here. 

 After standing upon the bank and discussing the situation ' 



- for a whfle we finally selected sites for our respective blinds 

 1 and at once began work on them, first carrying out the 

 !• share of decoys allotted to each, and our euns, stools and 



ammunition, and then brush for what the" natives call the 

 3 "bough house. " Albeit it was near the close of October the 

 1 leaves on many of the small will^^ws were as green as in 

 t midsummer, and this was not as serious a matter as it had 

 ; been on former occasions and at other places. By the time 

 ; the flocks of geese began their afternoon pilgrimage to the 

 ; fields the party were about all ready for them, and a few 

 I "single footers" coming within range, in their desire to in- 

 ? vestigate the.se new^ display.s, were tumbled over and at once 



- set up on the bars near the respective blinds to augment the 

 ! flocks of decoys. Large displays are alwaj^s desirable, the 

 » larger the better, and it is universally conceded that a dead 



goose, properly placed, makes a better decoy than anything 

 '■ else, except a live one. Even live ones are not good, if they 

 ; are continually striving to get away or are every now and 

 ! then yelping out their note of warning. 



We did not do much good on the return fiight from the 

 ! fields, the geese coming in late, flying high and comine down 

 I m all three of the channels. This did not discourage us, 

 I however, as we had never had much success on the afternoon 

 ; or night shoot, and when George announced, by a yell on 

 > shore, that he was there to haul us back to the house, we 

 waded ashore and climbed into the wagon, sanguine of a 

 good day's sport on the morrow. Supper was ready for us 

 . on arrival at the house, and renewed the promise of the noon 

 meal that we were to fare sumptuously during our stay. 

 Having slept but little the night before on the cars, and de- 

 siring an early start in the morning, we retired early to cozy 

 rooms and clean, sweet beds, where we slept and dreamed of 

 geese by the carload. 



We were somewhat disappointed in the bag we made the 

 next day. On account of a stiff south wind the greater num- 



- ber of incoming geese as they headed up the river, drifted to 

 ! the northern channel and settled down there to our extreme 



disgust. By paying strict attention to our business and mak- 

 ing the most of our opportunities, we bagged, I think, eigh- 

 teen geese and a few ducks, and went home that night some- 

 what down in the mouth. We found the next day that our 

 shooting in the middle channel had had the effect to send the 

 geese to the others, and although the weather was quite pro- 

 pitious and the number of geese had materially increased, 

 not so many came into our decoys. Yet, for "all that, by 

 reason of redoubled vigilance, the relocation of some of the 

 blinds, and better shooting, we brought down more game 

 than on the previous day. 



On the morning of our fourth day, when we waded out to 

 our respective blinds, we found they had all been visited 

 dui-iug the night by thieves and over one-half of our game 

 and decoys stolen. At my blind, which was the furthest 

 down the river, they had made a clean sweep. It being 

 near the hour of the return of the geese from their breakfast, 

 in the fields, I took the channel of the river and visited the 

 otlier boys. None of them had suffered as I had, all of 

 them having been left some of each dead geese, ducks and 

 sheet-iron decoys. Getting from these as many decoys as I 

 could well cany, i returned to my blind in time fo/the in- 

 coming flight, which proved rather a good one, and enabled 

 us, in a measure,, to retrieve our lost fortunes. But when 

 George came down with our dinner we concluded to pull up 

 stakes, spend the afternoon in quest of the thieves, and the 

 next day have him drive us down to our old stamping 

 ground at Poote's, back of Kenesaw. 



The above programme was carried out by our leaving 

 Newark early in the morning and taking roads running 

 parallel with the river and as near it as possible, with the 

 intention of pitching camp at the first favorable spot not 

 already occupied by other hunters. But we found the ter- 

 ritory everywhere covered, saw the tents of hunters at nearly 

 every house near the river, and could hear the boom of their 

 guns as they were let loose at some wary flock passing up 

 or down stream, seeking a spot where they might light in 

 safety and take a rest. Besides these unfavorable signs we 

 met other squads of hunters going up as we went down, 

 and from them obtained the most discouraging reports. 

 Near 3 o'clock in the afternoon we arrived at Poote's, hun- 

 gry and pretty well tuckered out, to learn that a party was 

 due there that night from Burlington, having telegraphed 

 ahead to save rooms and beds. But our party had always 

 regarded this as our home, and we at once gave Mother 

 Poote to understand we could not be set aside for strangers, 

 So we took possession, selected om- beds and reconnoitered 

 the field. 



When the geese are flying right, Poote's, in my judgment, 

 is the best yjlace on the river. Here all the channels meet in 

 one, just back of the house, which stands but a few yards 

 from the bank. The hunter can walk out to his blind at 

 any hour he chooses, and be in at meals without inconve- 

 nience or fatigue. But for the last three or four years these-, 

 advantages drew the hunters in such great numbers, and; 

 filled the bars so completely with death-dealing blinds, that 

 the geese abandoned that territory, and the hunters were- 

 left, Yet on this occasion we found the field nearly entirely- 

 deserted, while Willie and Ira, both good shots and doubt- 

 less the best honkers on the river, reported a fair flight and 

 the chances of a moderate bag good. Of course we hired 

 the boys to help us, and got the use of their decoys and dead! 

 geese. Here we remained two or three days, with varying- 

 success, when we pulled up, and, getting Mr, Poote to haul 

 us over to the railroad, came home, having bagged less than 

 100 geese all told. When the Burlington people came ovex 

 the iiight of our arrival at Poote's, the old mother stowed 

 them away somewhere and somehow, if not so comfortably, 

 and I guess they felt a sense of relief when we took our de- 

 parture. 



It was here that we met one Talbot, of Sioux City, Iowa, 



with his big and expensive outfit of tents, wagons, horses, 

 hunters, attendants, four practical taxidermists, and a quar- 

 ter of an acre of decoys, kihing geese, skinning them, throw- 

 ing the carcasses a way, and shipping the skins the Lord only 

 knows where. This' wholesale murder looked cruel and 

 wanton to us, and especially since not a pound of fle.sh was 

 utilized, not even being eaten by buzzards, as there are none 

 in that country. In our own case every fowl we killed went 

 into some housewife's bake-oven . 



On our retm-n home we met a couple of our townsmen 

 who had just gotten back from a point on the Platte, fifty 

 miles above and west of Newark, and who had killed and 

 brought home over 150 geese, their bag one day alone being 

 nearly sixty. It appeared the geese had, in sheer,,self defense, 

 drifted up "that way to get a place to rest. They were not 

 shy and decoyed readily to a smjtll display of decoys. In 

 our correspondence duiing the fall with parties up that way 

 we had elicited the inforination that the geese had not been 

 in the habit of coming up so far in any gi'eat numbers and 



