Feb. 11, 1886.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



43 



any meaning to them. Only a single question was asked, 

 aud that was by the squaw who pointed to the paper and 

 made the Single inquiry ••dead?" They had never heard of 

 the great chieftain, and when we told them who he was and 

 what he had been in his own land, Dame Sabattis pondered a 

 moment, and theu, in her broken English, lold the tale bow 

 one of the chiefs of her Iribe who, after being buried a hun- 

 dred years, was disinterred and, upon being brought, into 

 the light of day, lifted his skeleton right arm and waved it 

 over his people. It was saying in her own way that the in- 

 fluence of the great, does not die. 



Soon after the departure of our visitors, we heard sounds 

 of an altercation in the poultry yard. The original family 

 of chickens refused to welcome the new comers, and a cham- 

 pion bad been selected from the latter whom the senior 

 rooster of the resident household was entertaining without 

 gloves behind the tent. "Whether there was a foul or the 

 champion was getting the worst of the combat we could not 

 tell, but the bystanders suddenly interfered, put an end to 

 the mill and drove our tws "examples" into the woods. There 

 was never any friendship between the two groups, each fed 

 and roosted by itself until the lesser one was exhausted on 

 the gridiron. 



Iu spite of our resolutions, the creek tempted us once 

 more to try the fly. We fouud the blow upon it equal to 

 to that on the lake, and though we worked from sunset till 

 du'k we went home unrewarded. The dark nights had 

 come on us again, and we could hardly find our way up the 

 creek into the lake, so deep were the shadows from the trees 

 on either side. But when we made the last turn, there was 

 a burst of light from the western sky where the crimson of 

 the tunset still hung upon the clouds. The aurora was 

 making bright a spot in the northern heavens while the long 

 shadows, reaching from the east and west across the water, 

 made an ebony border to the silver sea which lay in front. 

 While we paused to enjoy ttie beauty of the night, a skiff 

 came out from the darkness on the left and halted a couple 

 of lengths off. It was Sabattis on his way to his cabin; 

 we answered his hail, held a short talk and then moved on, 

 while he kept us company to the landing. From the tent 

 door we could see the great square of Pegasus through an 

 opining in the trees; from overhead myriad lights looked 

 down; Cassiopeia with her chair invited us to linger without, 

 but we turned our faces from the outward splendor, dropped 

 the tent flaps and shut out the night. 



Tiie long, tedious days, during which the lake was work- 

 ing, dragged themselves away atter witnessing now and then 

 a futile attempt made by us to catch something, but the 

 tedium and monotony were confined to the slowness of the 

 fi-hiog, otherwise there was enough of novelty in cruising 

 upon new waters and enough of enjoyment in the entertain- 

 ments and receptions tendered us by the Colonel and Cap- 

 tain in the shade in the rear of their camp, to make us wish 

 that each day might repeat itself. There were, too, vast 

 amounts of information gathered concerning lakes only a 

 day's journey to the north, where the entering streams were 

 alive with trout and around which deer could be daily seen. 

 One of these, a lake seven miles in length, interspersed with 

 islands and nine miles distant from a human dwelling place, 

 as det-cribed by an old hunter, so captivated us that full 

 notes of how to reach it were taken for practical use in 

 another summer. 



Our outing was within two weeks of the end, when a vio- 

 lent storm of wind and rain at last cleared the lake, and the 

 blow disappeared to return no more. For some time, Sa- 

 battis had been anxious to make a trip with us to the salmon 

 trout grounds, nine or ten miles up the lake, but we had 

 been reluctant to undergo the labor of a long day on the 

 water with the lake iu a condition which made us hopeless 

 of success. But, just as the lake was clearing itself of the 

 last of the blow, we were awakened early one morning by 

 a light footfall iu the tent, and there stood the younger of 

 the two Iudun boys besi'le our bunk. He had been sent by 

 Sabattis to tell us that the former would be ready in half an 

 hour to start for the trout water, thai the bait (live perch) 

 had been caught, and to ask us if we would go with him. 

 Teliing him to ask his father to wait for us at the point by 

 Griffin Island, we hurried up a breakfast, hustled a lunch 

 into the boat, and with trolling lines, sinkers and A. N. C 's 

 two trout gangs, we put off. The old man was waiting for 

 us at the point and the two boats, as close beside each other 

 as the sweep of the oars would permit, took their way up 

 the lake. The air was full of tbat indescribable softness 

 which, with the haze on the far off forest, marks the Indian 

 summer, though it was hardly past the middle of August. 

 The southern shore was fringed with pine, between which 

 could be seen an occasional clearing which was aglow 

 with the scarlet of the sumac, tempered with the buff 

 of the golden rod, and the dusky purple of the swamp 

 oak stood out against a background of gray solemn hills. 



It was just the day to listen to traditions and legends, and 

 they were soon thronging about us. Again Sabattis un- 

 locked his treasures and laid them at our feet. Here, near 

 the ruins of the old Indian trading port, from which twenty- 

 five years ago he had been taken to be tried for murder, Joun 

 Brass had buried his gold iu haste, together with his bloody 

 fingers which he had severed from his hand, that they might 

 keep his wealth in their unhallowed grasp after he had 

 mounted the scaffold. On one of the Three Brothers, tra- 

 dition had located another spot cursed with the white 

 man's desire to preserve his gold beyond the grave, while 

 beside a rock, opposite the entrance to Cady 's Bay, strange 

 and hellish forms made nightly rcinds — intVrnal patrolmen 

 guarding treasures to which the earth uufettered refused her 

 keeping. And strange to relate, the old man was eager to 

 learn some spell to which wraith and goblin damned would 

 succumb, aud by which the treasures in their keeping would 

 be revealed aud surrendered to him. Leaning over the gun- 

 wale of bis boat and looking us iu the face," he anxiously 

 waited for our answer to his question whether, we in the 

 State , had. any nn aus of determining the exact spot where 

 money was buried. We could only suggest the witch hazel 

 wand, but, he was already versed in the mysteries of its use, 

 and with a long drawn sigh turned toward the stern. 



By the time we had reached Salmon Point, which Sabattis 

 told us was the name of a long strip of land running out 

 into the lake on the southern shore, it was after ten o'clock 

 and here, at his suggestion, we arranged the troll. A fine 

 lot of lively perch were put into the boat and with one of 

 these, about four inches long, fastened on the gang, we made 

 our maiden effort to take a lake trout. We moved along 

 slowly for half a mile with two huudred feet of line astern 

 which, with its sinkers, kept the boat within six or eight 

 feet of the bottom in a d» pth of about eighty feet of water. 

 In the middle of a broad open sheet of water, our first strike 

 came, a strong firm tug. The line was brought rapidly in 

 hand over hand, the weight at the end increasing with each 



successive pull, until within twenty feet of the boat, when 

 there was a wild dash downward, a scurrying around be- 

 neath us, a splash alongside, and a small-mouth bass that 

 weighed three pounds and a half was whisked over the side 

 into the boat. We felt all the disgust natural to the occasion 

 but kept the flsh. By the time the line had been paid out 

 again we felt another tug, this time we were le=s confident, 

 still we hoped for the best. But we were again to suffer dis- 

 appointment, for a two pound small-mouth bass crushed our 

 expectations. Two more were soon added to our catch, and 

 after pulling half a mile further, the gang began to gather 

 mose, when we turned about and went back over the course. 

 No strikes of any kind followed and, after trying the water 

 in every direction for an hour, we declared the trout exper- 

 iment at an end. We found Sabattis off the point, where he 

 had lost a spoon while trolling in the same depth as our- 

 selves, and he showed us the end of the gimp which he said 

 had been cut by a trout. We trolled through the shallow 

 water to the bridge, taking a couple of bass on our way and 

 then, hot, hungry and disappointed, we ran under one of the 

 wide wooden spans where, tying up in the shadow, we 

 spread our lunch on the seats. Soon a wagon rumbled over 

 our heads, sending down a shower of dirt, and in a flash we 

 were back through half a life to a scene five hundred miles 

 away when, in one of those glorious "noonspells," we sat 

 under the old bridge below the school house and divided the 

 bread from our dinner pail with the red-fins which were 

 darting in and out among the stones, and listening to the 

 thump above us from the wheels of the farm wagons and the 

 scuffling of the bare feet over the Dlanks by the boys, run- 

 ning races down the dusty road. The cobwebs floated above 

 us in all their dusky splendor, the damp odor from the water 

 soaked timbers filled the brain with their ancient incense, 

 the boyish eagerness and wonderings of twelve were throng- 

 ing about us again, when a bearded face looked back into 

 our own from the water and stayed them all. 



By the time we had finished our lunch, a good breeze had 

 sprung up from the west which, sweeping under the bridge, 

 soon made us willing to drift out into the sunshine. As the 

 wind increased, the sail was hoisted and Sabattis was for the 

 moment forgotten as we began to make rapid headway down 

 the lake. Suddenly our discourtesy in leaving the old man 

 alone to pull six weary miles to camp smote us hard, and we 

 rounded to and waited for him. He was pulling lustily 

 twenty rods astern, with a determination apparent in his 

 stroke to be left no further behind than his strong muscles 

 could prevent. Whe he came up, we took him in tow, and 

 he was soon stretched out fast asleep in the stern of his boat 

 with the bright sun beating on his head and the breeze blow- 

 ing his long hair about his face. Through the dreamy mel- 

 low afternoon we winged our course with well filled sail 

 along the wooded slopes, through narrow channels and past 

 green islands, without a word to break the silence. At the 

 foot of the mast, with the end of the sheet rope iu his hand 

 which he had given a single hitch around the cleat at our 

 feet, George was wandering in the same shadowy land as 

 his compeer in the boat behind, while the master held the 

 tiller and kept the course. The boat of Sabattis, with its 

 long tow line and no hand to steer, headed first to the right 

 then to the left with sudden jerks until we shortened the line 

 and drew bis era It with the bow close to the stern of our 

 boat, and thus we made our homeward way like "The dead 

 steered by the dumb going upward with the flood." 



It took repeated shouts to rouse Sabattis when we had 

 reached the foot of Griffin Island and cast his boat loose for 

 him to make his way to his cabin in the little bay around the 

 point. Our day had been one of disappointment, for we had 

 hoped to honor our trout gang and its donor with a catch 

 of which we might be proud. But "fisherman's luck,'* 

 that misfortune which comes to us all, had overshadowed 

 us and in the gloom of defeat we drew up to our landing. 

 It needed but a single drop more to fill our cup of humilia- 

 tion and bad humor to the brim, and we found it awaiting 

 us in camp. It was the inevitable which always comes 

 about the same time in each year to render the balance of 

 our outing a period of gloomy anticipation There was a 

 summous in which the limit to our camping was fixed, and 

 we were to move on thenceforth, day by day, to the doom 

 which was staring us in the face The dream which had 

 disturbed us at the beginning of the camp was soon to be re- 

 alized, a blast like that from the trumpet of the Gideonite 

 shattered the enchanted wall which we had reared about us, 

 and through the broken battlements came to our ears the 

 coarse din of toil. Wawayanda. 



"That reraiDds me." 

 180. 



DOCTOR R and myself were duck shooting from a 

 double battery under the north shore of the Great South 

 Bay, near Patchogue. The Doctor observed a single broad- 

 bili coming up from the leeward and said, "Lie low and see 

 your uncle roll this fellow over." On he came and at the 

 same time came another on my left which the Dector did 

 not see. I killed the one on my left, while the Doctor emp- 

 tied both barrels at the one he was to knock over. Recover- 

 ing from his surprise at seeing his bird rapidly disappearing 

 and seeing the water covered with feathers, he slapped me 

 on the back and said, "Look at the feather bed l knocked 

 out of that fellow." Imagine his surprise and consternation 

 when I pointed to my dead bird and told him that was where 

 bis feather bed came from. S. A. 



New York 



181. 



"Governor" David S. Crandall, formerly editor of the 

 Lockport Courier and for many years well known in 

 "Western New York, used to tell a story of the great meteoric 

 shower, which fell. I think, iu November, 1883. He was at 

 that time living temporarily upon a farm which he had 

 purchased, lying at a few miles' distance from Lockport; 

 and among his dependents was a chore boy twelve or 

 fourteen years old. On the night referred to Air. Crandall 

 was engaged in writing after the rest of the family had 

 retired, and saw through the window the shower of meteors. 

 He aroused his wife, and then the boy, requesting them to 

 come to the door, where the boy was at first struck dumb 

 with astonishment, thinking that all the stars in heaven 

 were falling through space. After a little he turned to the 

 North star, and his courage returned. "By gosh!" he 

 shouted, "the old 'dipper' hangs on yet, don't she?" 



Kelpie. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Publish- 

 ing Co, 



WILD ANIMALS IN CONFINEMENT. 



IT is a well known fact that the grounds at Central Park 

 now devoted to zoological purposes were chosen merely 

 as a makeshift, not for~their adaptability. It is a small 

 cause for wonder, then, that little interest is felt by lovers of 

 natural history in that collection. The curator, Mr. Conk- 

 ling, is unrelaxiog in his efforts to make a zoological collec- 

 tion worthy of New York's intelligence, but he is so hamp- 

 ered by a contention of interests that his efforts are rendered 

 almost abortive. Property owners on Fifth avenue have 

 asked the Board of Apportionment to refuse to grant any 

 money for the purpose of maintaining the menagerie, on the 

 ground that it is a nuisance. But the true objections to the 

 menagerie are not the selfish ones brought by the Fifth 

 avenue property owners. They are that it is a poor and 

 utterly incomplete collection, and is badly situated for its 

 purposes. The menagerie was started merely as a makeshift, 

 and has grown to its present proportions in a more or less 

 accidental way, and was put where it is without the inten- 

 tion of there establishing a great and permanent zoological 

 garden. Hence for years past the necessity for removing the 

 menagerie to some more suitable situation has been recog- 

 nized by everybody familiar with the Park, and having a 

 just conception of what a zoological collection ought to be. 



There is at present little hope of establishing a zoological 

 garden at all worthy of New York. That there is an inher- 

 ent love of natural history in our people no one who has ob- 

 served their tastes will attempt to deny. No show or place 

 of amusement that ever New York held has attracted so 

 many persons as that menagerie attracts on every fine day. 

 "We have from 80,000 to 100,000 visitors on Sunday," says 

 Superintendent Conklin. if, therefore, so many people are 

 interested in the rather "mangy collection of beasts" now 

 exhibited, how would it be if we bad a zoological garden 

 worthy of the name, comparable, for instance, with that in 

 London, or even with that in Philadelphia? 



I have spent considerable time iu the Central Park mena- 

 gerie studying the various habits and characteristics of the 

 animals under confinement. Of the 600 different species in 

 the menagerie not one is of foreign birth. They are all to 

 the manor born. First in point of interest is the deer. To 

 the hunter who has seen them in the pride of their liberty, 

 bounding recklessly through valleys and up and down moun- 

 tain sides, the deer in captivity presents a sorry picture. 



"Do they retain many of their native characteristics in 

 confinement?" I asked of Superintendent Conklin. "Well, 

 yes," he replied, thoughtfully, "Deer are naturally voracious 

 animals. In their wild state they are constantly feeding and 

 never seem to satisfy their hunger. Here m confinement 

 they soon lose that characteristic. They get accustomed to 

 a fixed routine and look for their food at a certain time as 

 regularly as mankind. Being herbivorous we provide them 

 with a diet of that class. Our native deer do not stand cap- 

 tivity as well as those of foreign origin. 1 can account for 

 this only on the ground that in their wild state they obtain 

 certain herbs that are unknown to us. Deprived of them 

 thev become slab-sided and lanky and seldom live more than 

 four or five years. I have noticed how vastly different in 

 point of hardiness are our native and the fallow or park 

 deer, of England. The latter have become so thoroughly 

 domesticated that captivity and confinement are a second 

 nature to them. They thrive in paddocks on such food as 

 we give them. I have known some of them to live fifteen 

 years." 



"Do you think it possible to wholly change the habits of 

 any wild animal by captivity so that in the course of time 

 they will become thoroughly domestic in all their character- 

 istics?" 



"It has been done in the case of the fallow deer, but I am 

 inclined to think that it was an easy matter to do so. Tney 

 are essentially a park deer. From time immemorial they 

 have been confined in the immense parks owned by wealthy 

 noblemen in Europe. I fancy it would be difficult to find 

 out anything about their habits in a wild state, if in fact 

 they ever were in that condition. Our native deer do not 

 take kindly to captivity any more than do grizzly bears, 

 wolves, panthers, and other animals of very wild natures. 

 Another peculiarity about deer that I have noticed is that 

 they do not breed as readily in captivity as they do in their 

 wild state. Observation has taught us that this is the fault 

 of the bucks more than the does. The former seem to lose 

 their amative spirit. Still we succeed in breediug a good 

 many deer. A doe in captivity will generally produce one 

 fawn at a birth when she is three years old, and two fre- 

 quently thereafter; when wild, they breed at two years of 

 age, but this is rarely the case when in captivity. Experi- 

 ence has shown 1hat a doe is not strong enough to be 

 allowed to breed at two years of age. If allowed to, she 

 would undoubtedly drop a weak fawn— one not likely to 

 live long. Most of the fawns that have been born in the 

 menagerie, came between June and September at no stated 

 intervals. One of the doa's most striking characteristics is 

 her strong affection for her young, and she will defend it 

 with great energy. Just before the birth of the fawn she 

 will seek out so'me quiet spot secure from observation, and 

 after it is dropped, she will carefully conceal it by covering 

 it over with leaves. This precaution is taken to protect her 

 youug from the buck, who evinces a strange disposition to 

 kill the young fawn as soon as it is born if he can get at it, 

 he seems to take a fiendish delight in trampling and goring 

 it to death. At the end of about four months, if the fawn 

 survives for that time, the parent doe weans him and makes 

 him shift for himself. 



"A fully developed bear captured and brought into captivity 

 here is very easily subdued. Bears are very intelligent ani- 

 mals, and they readily succumb to civilizing influences. All 

 wild animals, captured when full grown, are always more 

 easily tamed than those born and reared in the menagerie. 

 The youngsters inherit all the savage characteristics of their 

 parents, and seem to look upon their civilized surroundings 

 as part of their natural state. Civilization, therefore, does 

 not have the same subduing influence on their natures as it 

 does on those accustomed to the forests. This has been our 

 experience with all the various animals, with the exception 

 of bears. "We have had all kinds of animals born in this 

 menagerie except them. However, I expect to be able to 

 tell a different story, now that we have got the Fokest and 

 Stream's pair of grizzlies in our care. They'll breed, I feel 

 sure. In their wild state bears hibernate all winter, subsist 



