806 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[May 13, 1886. 



within the period of five years, 1874 to 1883 inclusive, em- 

 bracing counties in four parts of the State, ranging quite 

 one hundred miles in longitude and over fifty in latitude. 

 They were first seen as early as May 17, and latest on the 28th 

 of the month. Only one season, 1882, was omitted during 

 their appearance with us, while since the last seen in 1883 

 two years have gone hy without a record. 



The study of those birds which have increased from the 

 encroachments of civilization on field and forest, offers a 

 wide opportunity for observation, and tbe facts to be derived 

 from a pursuit of this nature are extremely interesting. It 

 may seem strange to many that more species have been 

 added to our State through the advancement of civilization, 

 than there have been removed from our midst by the many 

 ways of lessening their numbers and thereby driving them 

 away. Perhaps twenty species that were once abundant 

 with us have been removed through hunting and other means 

 of extermination. Many have been totally exterminated 

 in our more populous portions, and this loss is irreparable in 

 many ways as regards our game birds. However, I think 1 

 may safely say that where twenty have left us, at least twice 

 as many — probably more — new species have appeared, which 

 visit us as a result direct from our- advancement in country 

 improvements. 



61. Oporornis formosa (Wils.) Baird. — Kentucky warbler. 



This is an extremely rare bird either in Michigan or other 

 States at this latitude, and a record of this nature is neces- 

 sarily unexpected. In 1875, while actively engaged in col- 

 lecting, I secured one day a large number of specimens, and, 

 as the weather was extremely warm, I found it impossible to 

 preserve them all. At the time I was busily engaged in my 

 heated task of skinning, after a hard day's tramp, I was 

 called away, and on my return found several specimens past 

 recall, among them one of these birds, which I examined 

 carefully but could not save. The specimen was poorly 

 marked and I had no others of the species with which to 

 compare it, and doubts often assailed me as to its identity. 

 But after the beginning of my acquaintance with Dr. H. A. 

 Atkins, that true lover of nature, lamented by all collectors 

 in the State, I became convinced* that my specimen was the 

 Kentucky warbler, for I found that the species had been 

 taken even north of my own field of labors. The Doctor 

 wrote me that he had taken a male July 24, 1877. At the 

 time he shot it, it kept in the tops of the tamarack trees and 

 repeated its curious little notes, whit-ishee, whit ishee. 



The tops of the tamaracks seem rather against the record, 

 as we might expect this species, like the other member of 

 the genus aod as with the yellow-throat and mourning, to 

 confine itself to the underbrush, and this is what shook my 

 confidence in my own analysis; but with an authority like 

 that of Dr. Atkins, I am now satisfied that the embracing of 

 the Kentucky warbler in our list is proper. 



BIRDS AND TREES. 



SINCE the roads have become passable and comfortable 

 this spring (or what we by courtesy call spring) I have 

 tramped over some old familiar roads (nov;, alas, becom- 

 ing unfamiliar from causes I presently -^ill state) and have 

 been surprised and saddened at thp contrast they Dresented 

 with their pleasant condition lan.g S yne. 



A few years ago one _ of tl^se roads was notably a rural 

 and secluded one, winding through dense growths of pines 

 and maples and ash tr-ees, consequently well shaded and 

 comfortable to man an^ beast. From hedge and forest came 

 Uie-snnga-of .birds Shd their pretty forms were seen, flitting 

 hither and von, enlivening both sheen and shadow. 



Now in place of the trees are barren wastes of arid brush, 

 charred and unsightly stumps over which fires have swept, 

 and sandy shadeless stretches of dreary road. As a natural 

 consequence the song of birds is hushed wherever this whole- 

 sale and ruthless devastation is made, but the few "clumps" 

 of trees that have been spared are sadly destitute of bird 

 life and song. I have, within a month, frequented these 

 roads in early morn and at dewy eve with like result— sol- 

 emn silence and saddening sights. 



Even my dog seems to notice the change as he bolts to 

 slake his thirst at what was once a wayside spring, or trick- 

 ling stream, now a sandy hollow or dry and cheerless chan- 

 nel. His questioning crest-fallen appearance at finding no 

 water is piteous to behold and accords well with the wide- 

 spreading and desolate scene. 



At this season in a wild section of country, one expects to 

 hear the joyous notes of mating and nesting birds, but on a 

 late tramp in the early morning I heard but the plaintive 

 note of a pewee for a distance of nearly four miles. The 

 fact is significant and deplorably so. 



The Atjdtjbon Society has not been formed a minute too 

 soon, and its influence cannot be too wide-spread and bene- 

 ficent. It is the bounden duty of every lover of nature to be 

 its zealous ally, and by every means to advance its interests 

 and to aid in the suppression of the cruel slaughter of birds. 



"What may be done to stay the indiscriminate felling of 

 forest trees? This is a moot question and pertinent. It is 

 evident that something ought to be done. 



The institution of "Arbor" days is good and timely, but 

 let us spare as well as plant, let us wisely thin out as well as 

 ruthlessly exterminate all trees. 



On many miles of country road the only shade to be had 

 is that cast by the unsightly telegraph or telephone poles, 

 and the doleful or strident sound of their wires is a wretcned 

 substitute for the gladsome song of birds. 



The independent and fearless course of Forest and 

 Stream in re birds and trees is commendable, and should 

 have the support of all who love 



* * * "to muse o'er flood and fell. 



To slowly trace the forest's shady scene, 

 Where things that own not man's dominion dwell, 

 And mortal foot hath ne'er, or rarely been." 



• O. W. R. 



Voracity of the Biackskake. — Mifflintown, May 3. — 

 Editor Forest and Stream: 1 not only vouch for the truth of 

 the following statement, but can substantiate it by at least a 

 dozen men who were eye witnesses of the fact. On last Fri- 

 day, ex-Sheriff Shivery, who has men peeling bark on the 

 ridge about two miles west of Mifllintown, discovered a large 

 blacksnake on the side of a tree about fifteen feet from the 

 ground, head downward, with the end of his tail in a hole 

 in the side of the tree. He called his men to see the, to him, 

 singular sight. They eventually killed the snake, and as he 

 was very thick, one of the party suggested that they see what 

 was in it. On opening him, five young gray squirrels and 

 two young flying squirrels were found in his stomach. The 

 gray squirrels had only been swallowed a short time, and in 

 all probability he had found them in the tree that he was on 

 when discovered. This is no snake story, but a veritable 

 fact.— J. E. H. 



%ntH* §*g m{A §ntj. 



THE TRAJECTORY TEST. 



<TpHE full report of the Forest and Stream's trajectory test of hunt- 

 - 1 - ing rifles has been issued in pamphlet form y with tbe illustra- 

 tions and the tabular summary, making in all 98 pages. For sale at 

 this oflBce, or sent post-paid. Price 50 cents. 



A TENNESSEE VALLEY HUNT. 



ME. SCHUYLER HARRIS, of Harris Station, North 

 Alabama, was a gentleman of the olden time, and a 

 prince among hunters. A man of fortune and many broad 

 acres, he possessed an ideal Southern home, in the valley of 

 the beautiful Tennessee, the most picturesque of Southern 

 rivers, where the roaes bloomed in beauty, the magnolia 

 burdened the air with its perfume, and the pecan waved its 

 fruit-laden boughs in the fragrant air. Though advanced in 

 years, Mr. Harris was as fond of sport as a boy, and seemed 

 never so happy as when he had gathered a few young and 

 ardent hunters around him in his hospitable home, for a few 

 days' hunt in the fall of the year. It was a rtre treat to me 

 to make one of the party on occasions of this kind, and I 

 rarely ever failed to accept the oft repeated invitation to 

 come down for a hunt when the autumn frosts had stripped 

 the forests of their leaves and notified the hunters that the 

 time had arrived when wild ducks were feeding in the 

 southern streams, the children of Bob White were as large as 

 their parents, the wild turkeys were fat and ready for. the 

 spit, and the dun-hided bucks had rubbed the velvet from 

 their horns and were paying their lordly attention to the 

 meek eyed does. I never came back from a trip of this 

 kind without a sense of enjoyed recreation, and invigorated 

 in both mind and body. 



To the south and west of Mr. Harris's, along the Tennessee 

 River, extended a dense forest, interspersed with almost im- 

 penetrable cane brakes. Through the midst of this forest, 

 about half to three-quarters of a mile from the river and par- 

 allel to the river's course, for many miles flows a sluggish 

 slough. The gum, the water oak and other fruit-bearing 

 trees spread their giant boughs above the water of this 

 slough, and these, fastened, as they often are, with the black 

 and purple clusters of the wild grape, "casting their, bread 

 upon the waters," make here an attractive resort for the mal- 

 lard and other ducks. The canebrakes afford a safe retreat 

 and protect from extermination that glory of the ^^/jrican 

 forests, the wild turkey, while squirrels in u"toid numbers 

 sport among the trees and grow fat Q" the rich nuts which 

 nature supplies with lavish h^na for their support, An 

 occasional deer might now d nd then be found, sleek and fat, 

 lurking among the b r lkes. Just north of this swampy for- 

 est, and followir:~ the course of the river east and west, lay 

 a belt of rich, cultivated land, in the midst of which was Mr. 

 Harris's home. The fields around were a famous place for 

 Bob "White or quail or partridge, whichever his name may 

 be, for whatever doubt there may be on this subject, there is 

 none, and never can be, as to his character and quality as a 

 game bird. Still further north, and beyond this belt of 

 farming land, lay the post oak barrens, a wooded tract ex- 

 tending for many miles, and too poor for settlement. These 

 barrens were the favorite haunts of the deer. Thus it was 

 at the time of which 1 write, on which occasion I enjoyed a 

 week of varied and most delightful sport. 



The first morning after my arrival, for some reason Mr. H. 

 could not join in the hunt, and Mr. W. N. Richardson and 

 myself determined to try the ducks and squirrels clown on 

 the slough. He was armed with a Remington rifle and I 

 with a 7i-pound 12 -bore breechloading Scott gun. On the 

 way we were joined by Mr. Lucas, a famous duck hunter of 

 the neighborhood, who was armed with a heavy 10-bore 

 double gun, said to be the best duck gun in the country. I 

 have never been convinced that large caliber and much 

 weight in a gun contributed either to the pleasure or success 

 of a hunt. 1 have always observed that with a 12 bore gun 

 of good quality and of the proper proportion in the barrels, 

 weighing from 7* to 8 pounds, I could do as good execution 

 on either small or large game as I ever saw done with a 10- 

 bore of any weight. My little Scott was a model, and I was 

 anxious to test its killing capacity with the big No. 10 duck 

 killer. Soon after reaching the slough, Mr. Lucas and my- 

 self were standing together on the bank looking for ducks. 

 Just then we saw a flock of ducks of a peculiar kind not 

 often seen here, high above the trees, coming directly over 

 us traveling in steady flight in the form of the letter V. We 

 had just been discussing the relative merits of our respective 

 guns Mr. L. thought the ducks out of range and made no 

 preparation to shoot. As they came over us I raised my 

 little gun and fired. To his utter astonishment the leader of 

 the flock drooped his head, closed wings and fell from his 

 lofty elevation, striking the water some hundred yards away 

 whence it was nicely retrieved by Mr. L.'s dog. The great 

 height at which the duck was killed brought forth from Mr. 

 L an emphatic exclamation of surprise and of admiration 

 for the killing qualities of my gun. It was early in the sea- 

 son and ducks were not plentiful, though we made a very 

 respectable bag. When we closed the clay's sport, Mr. Rich- 

 ardson had ten squirrels, Mr. Lucas six ducks and two or 

 three squirrels, and I nine ducks and half a dozen squirrels. 



Late in the afternoon, while hunting along the bank of 

 the slough looking for ducks, I heard the put-put of a wild 

 turkey close by in the cane. Sending in Mr. L.'s dog on a 

 scout a large flock was flushed and scattered. Soon af ter- 

 ward'a hen turkey rose from the switch cane and flew by 

 me I fired at it as it passed, and at the crack of the gun 

 the turkey dropped both legs, spread its wings, and sank 

 nearly to the ground. But just as I was congratulating my- 

 self on killing a nice fat turkey, it made a desperate struggle 

 and recovered sufficiently to fly across the slough and beyond 

 my reach. There was no means of crossing, and I lost my 



tU The'hext morning, with our party reinforced by Mr. Har- 

 ris and Mr. John Tanner, Jr., of Athens, Ala., we returned 

 to the slough for the double purpose of making a drive for 

 deer and ot hunting the turkeys that had been flushed and 

 scattered the evening before. Mr. Richardson was to make 

 a wide circuit with the hounds and drive from below, while 

 the rest of us were to be stationed between the river and the 

 slough to intercept any deer that might be started. J ust as 

 we were approaching the place where we expected to make 

 our stands, we discovered ahead of us about two hundred 

 yards the flock of turkeys. Before they could run off in the 

 cane, which was close by, Mr. Harris put his horse to a run 

 and soon had the turkeys scattered in every direction. Se- 

 lecting our positions we remained quiet for a short time and 

 then began to call for the scattered turkeys. Mr. Tanner 



was a young man who had quite a brilliant record as a wing- 

 shot on quail, but had no experience with turkeys or deer. 

 Mr. Harris took him in charge for the purpose of giving him 

 a shot at a turkey. 



( Soon after we began to call we were answered by turkeys 

 in different directions. In a few minutes the loud report of a 

 gun in the direction of Mr. Harris announced that a turkey 

 had responded to his call. Several others were yelping in 

 different directions and I was in momentary expectation of 

 a shot. Just then we heard Mr. R with the hounds coming 

 up the drive. He had started no deer and I was annoyed to 

 think that he was coming up just in time to spoil our sport 

 with the turkeys. As I was in the act of leaving my place 

 of concealment, thinking my chances for a shot gone, I heard 

 the patter of feet in the dry leaves rapidly approaching. I 

 supposed it was one of the hounds, as they were very near, 

 but just then a black and glossy hen turkey ran out of the 

 switch cane not thirty yards away, coming straight toward 

 me. In a moment it was fluttering in its death struggles on 

 the ground. Before I had time to move a fine young gobbler, 

 flushed by the approaching hounds, came flying by and fell 

 to my second barrel. 



Mr. Harris and Mr. Tanner then came up with a fine young 

 gobbler, called up by Mr. H. and killed by Mr. T. While 

 the others were resting and eating their lunch, I strolled 

 down into the drive, and in walking about in the switch 

 cane, flushed a hen turkey, at which I fired as it flew away. 

 It went on, apparently unhurt, but in a little while I dis- 

 covered it was rising rapidly in its flight— a sign of a death 

 wound. Describing an upward curve, it rose above the tops 

 of the tall trees, and then making an almost perpendicular 

 flight for a few feet, it suddenly ceased its struggles in the 

 air and fell back dead, striking the earth with a heavy thud. 

 There were no ducks in the slough that day and we turned 

 our attention to the squirrels, of which we made a good bag. 



Early the next morning we were off to the barrens for a 

 deer drive. Stationing Mr. Tanner at the best stand, and 

 myself at a stand close by, Mr. Harris and Mr. Richardson 

 went into the drive with the dogs. The drive was a short 

 one, and hardly had we hitched our horses and taken our 

 places before we heard the hounds on the trail of a deer. 

 Mr. T. and myself were stationed on a road that ran through 

 the woods, and Mr. T. was cautioned to stand at a certain 

 tree on the side of the road which was pointed out to him, 

 while I was placed a 1'ttlc fi :rther on, just beyond a little 

 knoll that hid him from my sight. After a few minutes of 

 trail'"o ine hounds suddenly burst forth in a united chorus 

 of voices, and on they come. Every dog gives tongue, and 

 the very woods resound with the music of their mingling 

 voices. Ah, what a moment this is to the expectant hunter. 

 He knows the deer is up, and may dash by him at any mo- 

 ment with the speed of the wind. With eyes and ears intent, 

 and ready gun, he awaits the oncoming of the noble game. 

 There, they turn to the left toward the railroad. If they 

 cross that our chances are gone, for they will go to the river. 

 Suddenly they change their course again. Here they come 

 now, like Pandemonium turned loose, straight for my 

 stand. I can atmost hear the deer crashing through the 

 brush, and every nerve is tense with expectation. Just 

 before they come in sight they turn toward the other stand, 

 and I listen to hear Mr. Tanner's gun sound the death knell 

 of the buck. 



They have crossed the road and no sound of gun. With 

 astonishment I walk over to his stand and ask him why he 

 did not shoot. Imagine my surprise when he told me he had 

 seen no deer; that the deer had walked out of the drive 

 before we got to the stand, and showed me the track of a 

 small deer that had evidently walked across the road the 

 night before. I told him I had hunted deer a good deal and 

 never heard hounds run a trail that way before. Thinking 

 the deer might return, I went back to my stand just as Mr. 

 Harris rode out of the drive. He was greatly disappointed 

 that we had not killed the deer. I told him w'hat Mr. T. had 

 said about the deer walking out before we got there and 

 showing me the walking track. He was too old a hunter to 

 be put off that way, and told me to go back and I would find 

 another track, that those dogs were not running, any walking 

 deer. I returned and asked Mr. T. to show me where the 

 dogs crossed the road. He pointed to their tracks, and there 

 in the road, not twenty feet from the tree where we told him 

 to stand, were the tracks where the great, spreading hoofs of 

 an enormous old buck had buried themselves deep in the 

 ground in his headlong flight before the hotly following 

 pack. The mystery was explained. Mr. T. had never before 

 seen the branching antlers of an old wild buck coming 

 straight toward him in the woods, and, as he afterward ad- 

 mitted, he "went a piece up the road" about that time. We 

 had no little fun at his expense that night, and promised him 

 that the next time we would run out a smaller deer or give 

 him the protection of a larger tree. 



The next morning Mr. Tanner and I exchanged stands 

 and both were fortunate. He killed a small yearling deer 

 and I a very large and fat doe. 



The third day of the deer driving a joint hunt was ar- 

 ranged between our party and a number of gentlemen from 

 Athens, Ala., headed by the noble old veteran of the chase, 

 the Hon. Luke Pryor, whose ardor age has not diminished, 

 and who knows no enjoyment like that of the chase, and no 

 music like that of the well kept pack as they follow the 

 track of the swift-footed deer. We were to meet on half- 

 way ground. There were two roads crossing each other at 

 right angles, one running north and south and the other east 

 and west. The standers were to occupy these roads at 

 places where the deer were known to cross. The party from 

 Athens to take the north and south road and ours the east 

 and west road. The Athens party had the advantage of 

 stand, as the deer usually crossed the north and south road 

 first and afterward the other. Mr. Pryor was to drive south 

 from Athens with his pack, and Mr. Richardson north with 

 his, so as to meet on the half-way ground. Mr. Pryor is an 

 early riser and got the start of us. When our paity reached 

 the place where we were expected to stand we found him 

 already there. His hounds had started several deer and ran 

 them through the first stands where his party got several 

 shots but failed to kill. They then crossed to our stands 

 and we were not there. He was provoked and disappointed, 

 as he had a right to be. However, he succeeded in calling 

 off several of his dogs, and directing us to take our stands, 

 said he would go back and join Richardson and drive 

 through again. We promised to remain at our posts until 

 he came through. 



It was not a flattering prospect. It was a cold, bleak day, 

 and the sun was struggling to shine through tbe hazy atmos- 

 phere. Wrapping my overcoat about me, I sat down in tbe 

 leaves on the sunny side of a tree and tried to keep warm. 

 I had been there perhaps an hour, scanning the woods from 

 time to time lest some straggling deer might approach unseen 



