Wot, 13, 1885.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



808 



•which will at least stand for a quarter-century and be re- 

 garded by author of new works as correct, and not to be 

 disagreed with by each new writer. 



We have a yellow redpoll warbler anyway, and it arrives 

 from April 30 to May 4, and remains" until June 1 before 

 passing entirely out of the State. It never remains within 

 our boundiies during nesting season to my knowledge, nor 

 could I find it in early June in our Upper Peninsula. The 

 birds appear again from the north in September, and remain 

 as late as Oct. 15 very frequently. A few notes of captures 

 may be of interest: 1875, May 15, Kalamazoo county; 1876, 

 April 25 and May 13, Kalamazoo county ; 1879, April 37, 

 Kalamazoo county, and May 3, Kent county: 1880, April 37, 

 Kalamazoo county; 1881, May 1, Montcalm county; 1882, 

 May 9 and 14, Moantcalm county; 1883, May 8, Newaygo 

 county; 1883, Oct. 13, Lake county. The redpoll oliers 

 striking peculiarities in its habits, which distinguish it readily 

 from all tlie other raeraliers of the genus. It is essentially a 

 bird preferring clearings, pasture lots and open groves, and 

 in tbis i-espect'diifei's widely from the others of the Dendrmem. 

 It is more often found associating with the yellowrump and 

 prairie warblers than any of the genus, but is more fre- 

 quently seen in comp.any with the sparrows in half cleared 

 tracts. It also has an almost constant habit of jerking 

 its tail, by which it is readily identified during our walks in 

 the fields. It is often seen following hedge rows or rail 

 fences during its periods of migration and much resembles 

 the Sehiri in many of its movements. It usually keeps near 

 or on the ground, but is occasionafly shot while feeding well 

 up in the trees. 1 have often seen it on the ground feeding 

 among the dead leaves, and on one occasion it was observed 

 in the road feeding in the dust, a decidedly odd situation 

 for a graceful warbler. It is an active bird and very indus- 

 trious in its search for insects, which it often catches on the 

 wing, in which performance it is quite adept. After seizing 

 the insect it suddenly pauses in its flight, and if near th.e 

 earth suddenly drops, or if in a bush comes to a sudden halt 

 near a limb. In this respect it even resembles a pewee in its 

 sudden check after a capture and return to its perch. 



The song of this pleasing bird I have never heard. During 

 its migration only a few faint cheeps being uttered, which, 

 even when connected by repetition, can hardly be termed a 

 song, so faint and irregular are they. 



CRAYFISH. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Two or three weeks ago I had presented to me by Mr. S. 

 L. M. Barlow about two dozen crayfish from Illinois, and 

 turned them into my trout sti'eam. 'l have never seen any of 

 these fish before on Long Island. Are they likely to thrive? 

 Are any of the Long Island streams inhabited by crayfish, or 

 are these the first introduced? Thomas Olapham. 



EOBLYN, L. I., Oct. 30. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Crayfish, or as they are called here, fresh- water crabs, 

 were, and I believe arc now to be found in many of our 

 streams here in Northwestern Vermont, as well as in the 

 eastern townships, Canada. Stanstead. 



HiGHGATE, Vt. 



[Crayfish are cultivated by the Germans for the table. 

 Some are brought to New York market from Wisconsin and 

 other places. Theu- burrowing habits make them dreaded 

 by owners of dams, and our fishculturists regard them as 

 great pests. We fear that Mr. Clapham may have cause to 

 regret the introduction of these crustaceans.] 



Albino Antelope.— The Siamese have their white ele- 

 phants, but it has remained for Wyoming to produce a pure 

 white antelope, and then it required a long chase on the part 

 of the hunters to capture the rare and beautiful animal. It 

 was first discovered about six weeks ago, and ever since that 

 time the hunters have been after it with all energy. On 

 Saturday last T. D. Abbott and Charles Rathbun went out 

 on the chase, and ^found it near Wall Eock Caiion, where, 

 after some trouble, they succeeded in capturing it. Mr. 

 Rathbun has retm-ned to this city, and Mr. Abbott will come 

 in with the pelt to-day or to-morrow. The hunters say that 

 this is the first white antelope ever seen or heard of , and that 

 it was a beautiful specimen, only about one year old. If is a 

 pity it could not have been captured aHve. — Laramie {Wyo.) 

 Boomeraoig. 



Domesticating Wildfowl. —Cold Spring Harbor, N. Y., 

 Nov. 3.— I have received several more wood ducks this fall, 

 but no new species. Some of my old birds are now in new 

 plumage and some have not yet moulted. One pintail drake 

 has moulted but is not yet in full plumage; the same can be 

 said of the widgeon and mallards. The mandarins, now two 

 and a half years old, never looked so well. I have not yet 

 been able to get any blue-winged teal nor a mate for the 

 little green-winged teal whose drake died a year ago. So 

 far there has been no loss of birds by death, and a wider 

 range next year may result in breeding some.— Fred 

 Mather. 



Destructive Electric Light Towers.— During a rainy 

 night in October I picked up under one tower one hundred 

 and five birds, killed under this tower alone, and there are 

 several in the city. This wae only one night, but every 

 night more or less birds were killed during migration. Those 

 killed on this particular night were chiefly insectivorous 

 birds, as Maryland yellowthroats {Geothlypis trichas), house 

 wrens {Troglod.ytes aedon), indigo bunting \Pas8erina cyanea). 

 Migratory birds have about all passed over at this date, 

 Nov, 4, 1885,— Gr. Noble (Savannah, Ga.). 



Grodse and Snake.— Bodines, Pa., Oct. SO.— Editor For- 

 est and Stream: A rather singular coincidence was observed 

 near here lately. Two friends of mine, while walking in the 

 woods, noticed a ruffed grouse acting in a very strange man- 

 ner, and upon approaching her fouud a small green snake 

 some fifteen inches in length wouad tightly about its neck. 

 As they drew near the snake unwound and hid in the leaves, 

 while the pheasant, quickly recovering, took refuge in 

 flight.— H. C. Green. 



Arrivals at the Philadelphia Zoological XJaeben During Octo- 

 ber, 1885. -Purchased— Two seals (Phoca vitnUna); two larown peli- 

 caas (Pelecanus ftiscus), male and female; two European quail 

 {Commix communis), male and female; and six summer ducks <Avi: 

 sponsa) three males and ttiree females. Presented -One torown ca- 

 pucm (Cebus fatuellus), one coati ^^k^sua nasiea), one Leach's petrel 

 (Cymochorea. leucorrhoa), one cow f>ird (Molothrus pcroris) one 

 tooth-billed pigeon CDidunculwH striqirostrui), four alligators {Alli- 

 gator nuHSiHnppiensis) and eight banded rattlesnakes {Crotalus hor- 



Address all oomwutddattons to the Forest and Stream PnbUsh- 

 ing Oo. 



ANTELOPE IN KANSAS DRAWS. 



IN August, visiting a friend on his ranch in Lane county, 

 Kansas, 80 miles west of here, I found myself in the home 

 of the antelope. That whole region lies in what was origin- 

 ally called the Great American I)esert, viz., a vast timberless 

 prairie, closely sodded with buffalo grass, the sweetest mor- 

 sel to the antelope. Part of the country is rolling and a part 

 gently undulating, with much which is apparently flat ; but 

 if you closely notice it you will discover a very gentle slope 

 in what appears most flat. These flats, as they arc called, 

 are the parts most frequented by antelope. They reach from 

 three to ten miles without a break. From the boundaries of 

 the flats, draws (ravines they would be called in the East) be- 

 gin almost imperceptible at first, very gradually increasing 

 until in the first mile you will have a draw fifty feet deep 

 and half a mile wide. The antelope may be found at times 

 near the beginning of these draws, and may then be ap- 

 proached near enough for a shot, though the depression is so 

 slight that the most careful and patient crawhng are required. 

 In fact, frequently you cannot crawl, but must lie flat on 

 your breast and pull yourself along with your hands by hold- 

 ing to the grass. The game can often see you, but by great 

 care and remaining motionless when they look toward you, 

 and putting forward only when they are grazing or looking 

 away from your direction, being also careful of the wind 

 and the color of your clothes and content to advance six 

 inches at a time, you may get near enough for a shot. We 

 tried this several times, and in each case succeeded in ap- 

 proaching close enough. You travel on horseback and ride 

 till you discover the game, usually at a distance of a mile or 

 mile and a half. 



I was accompanied by a friend familiar with the country. 

 As we came near the summit of a swell we saw two antelope 

 grazing near the head of a draw, about three-quarters of a 

 mile away. We showed only our heads and they didn't per- 

 ceive us. We rode into a near draw, picketed our horses 

 about a half mile from them, and then approached them, 

 advancing up the draw until within five hundred yards. 

 Here the draw made a turn to the south, and as the wind 

 came from the north we;;could follow it no longer, for the 

 wind blew directly toward them at the turn of the draw. So 

 we were obliged to move directly over the intervening swell 

 instead of continuing in the draw, which would have been 

 much the safest approach. As we reached the summit we 

 saw the doe. The buck was the one we desired the most; 

 but we dare not wait nor move further for fear of discovery. 

 Now the important but dififlcult question of distance must be 

 determined, there being no objects to aid you; and being 

 compelled to fire lying down, the intervening ground being 

 also invisible, makes it a much more difficult problem than 

 one who has never hunted on the plains would imagine. I 

 wanted to raise the .sights of my rifle one notch ; but my 

 friend advised not, saying it was not over one hundred yards. 

 I deferred to his judgment, but the sequel proved him mis- 

 taken. After a very careful aim I fired, the ball just barely 

 passing under the body, thus proving that a raise of one 

 notch would have been just my sight. I fired again as she 

 ran, without result. Then the buck made his appearance, 

 running across our front. We paid him our compliments three 

 times, but failed to stop him. On stepping off the distance 

 of the first shot we found it to be a strong one hundred and 

 thirty yards. Of cour,se we were not as well pleased as if we 

 had killed, but felt highly elated at having been able to ap- 

 proach near enough for a shot which before this I had 

 doubted my ability to do. 



A few days after this, with the same friend, I rode out 

 again and discovered two more antelope (doubtless the same 

 seen there before). They were lying down 150 yards beyond 

 the head of the same draw. The day was very hot, the sun 

 was shining bright. We picketed our horses in the same 

 place as before and advanced up the draw again. This time 

 the wind was favorable, but when we came to where the 

 draw turned south, we were in plain view of the antelope. 

 ]So other way of approach being possible, we began to crawl 

 up the draw, beyond the head of which and near the highest 

 point of the swell the two lay, a fine buck and doe, about 

 350 yards distant. A portion of the way we had some weeds 

 for concealment, but half the way we were in plain sight, 

 and had to be very careful not to move when tliey looked 

 down the draw, as they did frequently. But we pulled our- 

 selves forward whenever they turned their attention in an- 

 other direction. They were very watchful and our progress 

 was correspoddingly slow. When we finally got within 150 

 yards, we were able to crawl without discovery for 50 yards 

 close under the slope. Then we had to snake it along again 

 till as near as possible. We judged them to be not over 100 

 yards. Wiping the perspiration from our faces and waiting 

 a few moments to rest and steady our nerves, having become 

 much fatigued with our exertion, an hour and a half havino- 

 elapsed since we began operations, we now prepared to fire^ 

 Just as we were about steady, both the antelope rose up, 

 having finished their mid-day rest. They were not alarmed', 

 but we had not a moment to lose, for they would speedily 

 move off. Taking careful aim at the buck, I fired a left 

 lear quartering shot and heard the bullet thud very dis- 

 tinctly. The buck gave no evidence of being hit, not win- 

 cing a particle, but moving off with the doe in a gentle 

 leisurely trot. From what we hear, and our experience 

 corrobarated it so far, this is characteristic of the antelope. 

 They differ in this respect from any other animal we ever 

 hunted. They give absolutely no evidence of being hit, but 

 move off as if unharmed. Before we could fire again, they 

 disappeared over the swell in a gentle trot. W followed 

 at a walk, and on reaching the spot where they had stood, 

 saw the buck lying flat and motionless not 50 yards from 

 the spot we fired upon him. The doe stood about 300 yards 

 away looking at him. W fired at her but missed ; on walk- 

 ing up to the buck, we found him dead, the ball bad stnick 

 him in the center of the left ham, ranging forward and up- 

 ward, and passing out on the opposite side, a few inches 

 below the back. He proved to be a very large, fat animal, 

 with an unusually large pair of horns. We di-essed the 

 carcass, and after much trouble got it upon one of our 

 Texan horses and started for the ranch, three miles distant, m 

 one of the hardest thunder and rainstorms I remember to 

 have seen. Of course we got thoroughly soaked, but what 

 did that matter? I had killed my first antelope and was 

 correspondingly happy. 



A few days after this I rode out alone in an opposite di- 

 rection from camp. After riding five miles I saw a band of 



eight of them about a mile and a half away. Looking 

 through the field glasses— something that one should always 

 carry— I found them to be a buck and seven does. They were 

 grazing toward a draw. I turned back, rode into the same 

 draw about a mile below where I judged they would ap- 

 proach it. picketed my horse, and 'walked nearly a mile. 

 Now came the difficult part— to see them without being seen. 

 After much careful peeking I discovered them near the edge 

 of the draw, or rather one of them, lying down about 500 

 yards away. I moved on until, as I thought, about right, 

 and then began to crawl up to the break of the draw on one 

 side. I could see nothing yet, so crawled about twenty yards 

 further, and then gently rising to a sitting posture, 1 saw a 

 doe lying to the right, 150 yards a^ay. But I could see no 

 others. Looking directly ahead, what was my astonishment 

 to see two does standing up not over 125 yards from me, and 

 at their feet I could see a splendid pair of horns which I 

 knew belonged to the head of a fine buck; but I could not 

 see his head, and dared not rise high enough to do so. 



I wanted those horns badly, but just at present I was in a 

 predicament. I dare not move a finger while the two does 

 were standing in open view and so near. I judged they 

 would soon He down, as aU the rest seemed to have done. 

 After waiting ten minutes, which seemed an hour in my un- 

 comfortable position (for like a pointer I stiffened when the 

 scent or rather sight struck me), finally one lay down. Oh, 

 if the other would only lie down now and relieve me from 

 my cramped position, I would then get those horns. At last, 

 down she went. I look a long breath and stretched my 

 cramped legs. After a good rest I began to pull along toward 

 those horns, at the same time keeping a sharp watch on the 

 doe lying to my right, and whose ears I could see while 

 hugging the ground closely. At last those coveted horns 

 were in view as far down as the head ; but I dare not raise 

 my head high enough to see more, for the buck was facing 

 me, and I knew the two does at least were by his side. Which 

 way they were lying I couid not tell. On 1 pull again a few 

 feet further, intending to fire at the head as soon as I could 

 see it. But now to my chagrin. I see that I can go no 

 further toward the buck, for the doe to my right can 

 plainly see me and will be sure to notice me if I move for- 

 ward. I lie still and think the matter over. Can 1 back 

 out and approach from another quarter ? Too much risk 

 of discovery 1 decide. But how can I give up so hand- 

 some a pair of horns— almost mine ? A bird in hand is 

 worth two on the plains. So I decide to make sure of the 

 doe, and trust to a running shot for those beautiful horns, 

 more beautiful now than ever, as my chances of possessing 

 them grew less, for I could hardly hope to hit him on the 

 run. At last, raising my sight one notch, I fired a quarter- 

 ing shot at the doe and heard it strike. But not stopping to 

 see what took place further, pumping in another sheU I fired 

 at the buck, now trotting across my front at the head of six 

 does close behind him, and carrying away with him those 

 horns that ought to have been' mine. At the first shot I 

 missed, and fired again, three times scoring a goose egg. 

 Then I watched them, feeling sure the wounded doe must 

 soon halt. I noticed one doe a few feet behind the rest. By 

 the time they had gone 600 yards she reeled and fell. Walk- 

 ing up I found her dead ; dressed her and then went after 

 my horse, hoping to load the carcass upon him, but doubt- 

 ing my ability to do so, for those Texans are opposed to 

 carrying anything if they can help it. 



I was not disappointed. He had no inclination to carry 

 it. I hitched the picket rope about its neck, mounted and 

 pulled it along the grass by the horn of the saddle, which, 

 by the way, is the only manner a Texas horse will pull any- 

 thing ; he has no use for a collar, and the less work of any 

 kind he is given the more docile he is. These ponies are 

 just mean enough to leave you on the plains, ten or twenty 

 miles from any place, if they can get rid of you, by fair 

 means or foul. They look handsome when roaming the 

 plains, but beauty is often deceptive, even in a horse. 



I got along finely for half a mile, when I found that the 

 hair and hide was fast disappearing from the side in contact ■ 

 with the grass, so I turned the animal over on the other side 

 and moved on half a mile further, when the same result 

 happened. I was still four miles from camp. I unfastened 

 the picket rope, rode to the ranch and returned with a wagon. 

 Now came the difficult task of finding the antelope on that 

 vast plain, with not a shrub nor landmark of any kind for 

 miles. Before starting for camp I had taken bearings with 

 my compass from an old deserted house several miles away 

 from the spot I left the antelope. Guided by this, after a 

 short search 1 found her and took her to camp. We had 

 several other hunts, one with greyhounds, of which I may 

 tell you later. E. R. Woodrow. 



Larned, Kansas^ 



SOUTHERN DUCKING GROUNDS. 



FROM several authentic sources it is learned that the 

 prospect for good goose and duck shooting this winter, 

 in the waters of Virginia and North Carolina, is very fair. 

 Already a large number of birds have put in an appearance 

 although the weather has been warm. Many of the birds 

 are young ones, which is considered by the coast gunners as 

 a very good sign. Last year there was little or no shooting 

 for brant along our coast. The Hog Islanders who used to 

 supply our markets with these delicious birds made but two 

 small shipments. This year, however, they say it will pay 

 to follow the birds up, and all hands are busy now painting 

 and rigging up their stools. Below are reports from two of 

 the most important fowling grounds on the Atlantic seaboard: 



the VIRGINIA BROADWATERS. 



Geese, brant and black ducks are now quite plentiful in 

 the broadwaters between Accomac county and Hog Island. 

 Off Brant Hill there is an abundance of feed, and the brant 

 are bedding there in great numbers. In Burton's Bay, to 

 the north, a number of young brant have been seen. There 

 are blinds at the mouth of Trout Channel, and already some 

 fair bags have been made. At present the best black duck 

 shooting can be had in Cherry Creek and in the creeks run- 

 ning through Matulican marshes. On these marshes there 

 are also great numbers of curlew a,nd sand snipe. A new 

 gunning club, with Mr. Ben West of New York city, at its 

 head, has located, and built a club house on the marshes 

 south of Burton's Bay. The club has a limited number of 

 members — all old-time sportsmen. 



Owing to the filling up of the ponds on Paramore's Beach 

 the black duck shooting on the island is a thing of the past. 

 The salt pond, however, at the north end of the island, has 

 increased in size, and during the northeast storms is a great 

 resort for geese. A party of Northern gunners have taken 

 possession of Revel Island, which lies to the southward of 

 Paramore's Island, and they have been building bush blinds 

 in all the available sinks in the upper broad water. 



The inhabitants of Hog Island and Cobb's Island are pre- 



