328 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



|Hay 80, 1886. 



in Quebec, north of the St. Lawrence River, and also abun- 

 dant in the stomachs of trout taken from the stream. The 

 trout were also abundant, so the war between the races was 

 evidently not carried on to the point of extermination of 

 either. The habitants called them "escrevisse," and said 

 they were common in other streams as well as in the one 

 where I observed them. I had always supposed they were a 

 fish of warm latitudes, and was surprised to find them so far 

 north. The soil there was mostly clay, overlying limestone 

 of the "Potsdam" formation. Is AsUieus found in Maine, 

 and if so where, and is his other name afflnis? — Mac. 

 [We do not think the crawfish a desirable tenant of trout 

 streams. They are not wholly scavengers, but catch small 

 fish and fatally pinch large ones. They burrow through 

 dams and are a nuisance about ponds. Years ago they were 

 called Astams, but now that generic name is only applied to 

 those west of the Rocky Mountains, the eastern genus being 

 Cambarus. In the latter are thirty-two species. G. afflnis 

 is found in the Middle States, while G. virilis and G. bartonii 

 are found in the northeast. None are known to exist in New 

 England except in the western portion of Vermont and 

 Massachusetts, and in the central portion of Maine.] 



Central La.ee, Mich. , May 6.— The Tompkinses are our 

 nearest neighbors. They recently moved into their new build- 

 ing, and have just laid two blue eggs. Some say their name 

 is finch, but we call them the Tompkinses for the sake of 

 brevity. Their home is situated in a Japanese honeysuckle 

 and on the south side of one of the pillars of our veranda. 

 Our wrens have not yet made their appearance, though we 

 daily look for them. The spring is well advanced and the 

 forests are green. On the 20th of April, in driving along 

 the shore of Grand Traverse Bay, as the ice was breaking 

 up along the shore, I observed a solitary kingfisher peering 

 anxiously into the water streaks among "the floating ice. He 

 sent his compliments to his relatives in Cincinnati, and I 

 drove on. On the same day I saw the golden-winged wood- 

 pecker for the first time. The trailing arbutus was just 

 ready to blossom, and the hepaticas had preceded them by a 

 week.— Kelpie. 



Strangers in City Hall Pake. — May 11. — Editor For- 

 est and Stream: It was quite curious to-day to watGh the 

 crowd at City Hall Park.' There were half a dozen brown 

 thrushes and as many catbirds hopping about the oasis of 

 lawn among a hundred or more sparrows, and the people 

 going up and down Broadway would stop and look with 

 open mouth and eyes at these strange creatures, and one had 

 only to stop also and look a little wise to be plied with ques- 

 tions as to what they were, whence they came and whither 

 bound. It gives a person a pretty good idea of how far 

 these birds must have traveled for them to stop to rest and 

 feed in such a place as this and in such company as the Eng- 

 lish sparrow.— J. D. E. 



Central Lake, Mich., May 13. — First humming bird 

 seen. — Kelpie. 



THE TRAJECTORY TEST. 

 «*1^HE full report of the Forest and Stream's trajectory test of hunt- 

 ing rifles has been issued in pamphlet form, with the illustra- 

 tions and the tabular summary, making in all 96 pages. For sale at 

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



DAYS OF THE TEXAS RANGERS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I have just read in Forest and Stream of May 6. the 

 editorial under the heading, "A Century of Extermination." 

 It makes me feel really sad. Tou say that the bison, antelope, 

 elk, wild turkey and some others will probably be wiped en- 

 tirely out of existence by the year 1900. You will no doubt 

 prove correct in this prophecy. In 1858-9 I was a Texas 

 Ranger, ostensibly engaged in "protecting the frontier," at 

 $ 5 per month, but mostly engaged in having lots of fun in 

 hunting, fishing, and having a good time generally. There 

 were just Injuns enough to spice up this business in a very 

 interesting manner, but not to make ic too dangerously inter- 

 esting. I roamed all over the country, from the San Saba 

 River on the south to the Red River on the north, and from 

 the Brazos River on the east to the Pecos on the west. In 

 those days that great scope of country literally swarmed 

 with game. I have seen deer in herds of probably a thousand 

 head, and wherever we went they were seldom out of sight. 

 They were everywhere, on the prairies and in the woods. 

 On the prairies the antelopes were still more numerous, but 

 they hated the woods and seldom or never ventured in them. 

 In the evening and the early mornings the woods along the 

 stream were resonant with the gobbling and yelping of 

 turkeys, and during the day they swarmed out on the prairies. 

 I have seen them as thick as blackbirds in the valleys. 



In those days the buffaloes or bison crowded down upon 

 us every winter in apparently innumerable armies, staying 

 till the spring was well advanced. So abundant was good 

 meat and so easy to obtain that when we fellows started out 

 on a scout or bumming trip— bumming on the good things 

 of nature — we never thought of taking along anything to 

 eat except a little flour, coffee and salt. This is all changed 

 now. The buffaloes are clean gone; the antelope is driven 

 to the Staked Plain; you may ride over the country a week 

 now without seeing a deer, and the gobble of the turkey is 

 rarely heard, and only in the profoundest bottoms and thick- 

 ets. In those days also these very prairies before me now 

 were full of herds of the beautiful wild mustang, his slick 

 skin flashing like a mirror in the sunlight, and his flowing 

 tail streaming like a banner in the wind. All gone now — 

 all gone; gone into the dead past. Indeed it makes me sad 

 to think of it. I almost feel like crying. My boys will 

 never see what their father saw. My mellow years will 

 never see the fun that my youthful days revelled in, and I 

 love it now just as much as I ever did. They seem to have 

 gone like a flash. 



Such are the doings of man. He is the lord of creation 

 and all these things must wither away before his glance. 

 These wild things were provided for the wild man, who was 

 too confounded lazy to work— and he is now a "gone 

 sucker," too — withered away before the above-mentioned 

 powerful glance. It is fate and the Almighty God. The 

 beautiful and rich land had to be enjoyed by those who 

 would glorify their Maker in their works; schools, churches. 

 Christianity had to spread. And after all, while we miss 

 our buffalo meat and our venison, antelope and wild turkey, 

 we must confess that a good porterhouse or tenderloin beef- 

 steak, or a rich mutton chop, or a good fat gobbler from the 



barn yard are pretty good substitutes, to say the least of 

 them. As long as we have enough of these things, we shall 

 not starve. Indeed, we shall be able to get along pretty 

 well. Still it is sad to see all tliese pretty and good things 

 marching away into the dead past, never to return any 

 more. 



Touching these things that are dying, there is another ex- 

 traordinary thing that is now quietly going on in this part 

 of the world. The prairie dog, which until recently covered 

 this whole country with his millions, is, I am told by coun- 

 trymen from all directions about Abilene, going the way of 

 all flesh without apparent cause. They say that where hun- 

 dreds were last year, there are not now tens, and in some 

 places that only a few despondent- looking individuals are 

 left where there were recently great prairie dog cities. It is 

 not the work of poison ; it is simply a natural dying out. 

 Perhaps his epoch has closed, and that the bell is tolling for 

 him to take his departure into the dead past too. He does 

 no good now that we know of, and probably can do none, 

 and therefore he goes. N. A. T. 



Abilene, Tex., May, 1886. 



A MOSQUITO-PROOF TENT. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Although some months must elapse before the great army 

 of what "Nessmuk" calls "outers" will again seek for pleas- 

 ure and relaxation from toil in the American bush, I would 

 like to draw their attention through the medium of your 

 paper to a simple means of lessening the annoyances to which 

 they will be subject from insect tormentors. Oily mixtures 

 such as "Nessmuk" recommends are doubtless excellent for 

 those who care only to fish, shoot or loaf around the camp, 

 but many campers enjoy an occasional read in some interest- 

 ing book, or like to write a journal; others, including my- 

 self , are fond of sketching scenery or making drawings of 

 wild flowers. It is impossible to keep paper clean when 

 ones hands are coated with a greasy compound, and equally 

 impossible to write or draw when they are covered with flies 

 or mosquitoes. For those, therefore, whose amusements 

 sometimes require clean hands, 1 strongly recommend a kind 

 of muslin screen somewhat in the shape of a bell tent. The 



top is formed with a thin cane hoop, about two feet in diam- 

 eter, covered with calico like the head of a drum. Two 

 strong pieces of tape are sewn from side to side of the hoop, 

 crossing each other at right angles, and in the center where 

 they meet is attached a thin rope about ten feet long. To 

 the calico at the rim of the hoop is sewn a quantity of mus- 

 lin, descending so as to form a bell six feet in height and 

 eight feet in diameter at the ground. Around the lower edge, 

 at intervals of two feet, are small tape loops for pegging out 

 wide when two or three people wish to sit inside. 



The whole article weighs only about two pounds, and can 

 be folded flat so as to go inside a bag when traveling. When 

 required for use the rope at the top is thrown across the 

 branch of a tree and drawn up just enough to let the lower 

 edge of the muslin rest on the ground. Danger from fire 

 can be avoided by soaking the screen in solution of tung- 

 state of sodium. 



In 1870. when starting for an excursion in the Hima- 

 layas, where insects are extremely troublesome, I had one 

 made by the advice of a friend, who had, not long before, 

 marched through those mountains irjto Thibet and back into 

 India through the valley of Cashmere. 



W. H. H. Murray, in his "Adventures in the Wilderness," 

 recommends campers who are troubled by flies to go inside 

 the tent, smoke them out and drop a piece of muslin over 

 the doorway ; but one objection to this is that on a hot sum- 

 mer's day the interior of a tent is stifling. With the muslin 

 screen above described a lady can enjoy the fresh air and 

 read, write or sew in peace; a painter can carry it slung on 

 his shoulder and hang it to any convenient bough when he 

 finds an object worth drawing. The above sketch will 

 give an idea of the shape. - J. J. M. 



London, Nov. 23. 1885. 



WAYS OF THE RUFFED GROUSE. 



ONE morning late in September in 1884, just as it began 

 to grow light, I was forcing my way through a dense 

 beech thicket, when a ruffed grouse flushed not over twenty 

 feet distant. Instinctively my gun came to my shoulder, 

 when just as I was about to "cut loose" at him what was 

 my astonishment to see him turn a complete back somersault 

 and land upon the ground. I was not quite on the trigger 

 so I held my fire, and quicker than thought he recovered 

 and was off again, not, however, rapidly enough to evade 

 the charge of No. 8 which I sent after him and which 

 brought him again to the leaves, this time to stay, for I had 

 not removed my gun from shoulder, in fact did not have 

 time so quickly did it all transpire. At first I was at a loss 

 to account for the freak, for the monarch of game birds is 

 not in the habit of making mistakes, as our empty game bags 

 so often testify. On examining the ground I found that 

 after he had risen some three feet from his bed he flew 

 against a beech limb about three-quarters of an inch in 

 diameter, which at first yielded to his momentum then sprang 

 back like a bow, when the bird performed the gyration de- 

 scribed. Perhaps his late nap had dulled his faculties.^ or 

 this may have been his customary manner of taking morning 

 exercise. I only know he was in good health, that he helped 

 to grace an excellent dinner, and that while performing his 

 gymnastics he presented a most ludicrous spectacle. 



Amerious. 



Oneonta, N. Y. 



NOTES ON QUAIL SHOOTING. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



As a matter of fact I have never waited on a flock of par- 

 tridges that utter failure did not follow as the result of the 

 experiment. From the fall of '65 to '81 inclusive, I was 

 afield nearly every good day, and generally by myself, 

 which gave the best opportunity for watching the ways of 

 birds. At Sandy Point, on lower James River, I hunted 

 two falls over 3.000 acres of level cleared fields, and have 

 seen a covey of birds hover as though they were in the very 

 act of coming to the ground: then they would seem to take 

 a second thought and fly off at right angles at least half a 

 mile. If you don't note with precision where a partridge or 

 a covey lights, finding them is a very uncertain business. A. 



Virginia. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



"Old Timer" is probably aware that the question of the 

 ability of the Virginia partridge to withhold its scent was 

 much discussed in the old American Turf Register and 

 Sportsman' 8 Magazine, pro and con, and no conclusion arrived 

 at. Experience has led me to the conclusion that there is 

 nothing in it, the nature of the soil, of the air about the 

 spot and of the cover upon it, renders the scent very poor at 

 times, which is all there is of it. Much more frequently 

 men's eyes deceive them as to the spot where the birds actu- 

 ally drop into cover. Fox hunters, coon hunters and all 

 who pursue game with dogs have scent puzzles bottled up in 

 their experience. M. G-, Ellzby, M.D. 



Washington, D. C. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I have been an ardent and persistent sportsman for more 

 than half my life; have owned and hunted pointers, setters 

 and spaniels for the past twenty-five years; have bagged 

 everything in our catalogue of game native to our fields and 

 forests, and long before I knew of the existence of such a 

 character as "Frank Forester" became aware of the difficulty 

 of findingiscattered bevies of quail under certain conditions. 

 That 1 am not alone in my belief and experience, a refer- 

 ence to the reports of our field trials for the past five years 

 will fully substantiate. When we read in these reports of 

 dogs famous as field trial performers and victors in many 

 well-contested battles failing to find carefully-marked scat- 

 tered bevies, we have reason to believe (coupling that with 

 our own experience) that it is not fancy, but well-proven 

 facts. That under favorable conditions dogs can and do find 

 scattered bevies, I do not deny. That this is not an infalli- 

 ble rule (as applied to the birds of Northeastern Pennsyl- 

 vania), I as stoutly assert. 



I am now the owner of a brace of dogs, one a liver-colored 

 pointer, the other a red Irish setter, that, like all conceited 

 sportsmen, I am vain enough to believe have few equals. I 

 have hunted the setter two seasons on grouse, quail and 

 woodcock, and consider him by far the best quail dog I have 

 ever known. I have hunted the pointer one season on grouse 

 and quail, and, while not thoroughly broken, he shows won- 

 derful nose and staunchness, and will do. On the last day 

 of December, 1885, a friend and myself, with Fred and 

 Dred at our heels, betook ourselves to a stubble, a short dis- 

 tance from town, on which had been reported a day or two 

 before a large bevy of quail. The stubble was skirted on 

 one side by a small piece of woods, and in passiDg through 

 this I cast the dogs right and left, more for the pleasure of 

 seeing them go than from any hope of finding game, when, 

 in passing a fallen treetop at full speed, the setter suddenly 

 froze in such a manner as to leave no doubt he meant busi- 

 ness. I called to my companion to be on the alert, and at 

 the same time whistled up the pointer to back, when up 

 jumped a very large bevy of full-grown birds and settled in 

 plain view along an old brush fence and a patch of brakes 

 and briers not more than two hundred yards away. 



We followed them at once and secured two points and two 

 birds among the brakes and briers, while a third I kicked 

 from under my feet and sent toward a piece of woods about 

 five hundred yards away, "shedding his feathers" in such a 

 manner as to satisfy me 1 should see him later. We then 

 hunted the brush fence thoroughly, but failed to start another 

 bird, and thinking, perhaps, that we might have been mis 

 taken, and that they had led the way to the cover that the 

 wounded bird had sought, we followed him up and had 

 hardly entered the woods when both dogs pointed simul- 

 taneously in the same direction, and in kicking the debris 

 ahead of them a wounded bird got up with difficulty and 

 fluttered along a short distance till my shot mercifully 

 stopped her. ' We hunted the remainder of the woods 

 thoroughly and secured two points on grouse, one of which 

 I bagged; but I found no more quail. We then returned to 

 the old brush fence and secured in rapid succession five 

 points on different birds, and that on the identical ground 

 we had hunted persistently two hours before. We then triect 

 the brakes and briers once again, and the setter, a very fast 

 dog, we found on a staunch point within ten yards of where 

 I had killed my first bird but a short time before. While we 

 were admiring the (to us) rare picture of a double point, up 

 sprang still three more birds and sped away unharmed. 



Although nearly twenty-five years have gone by and I 

 have had many similar experiences since, I cannotforget the 

 first time I became fully aware of the power of the quail to 

 withhold his scent, or to so secrete himself as to baffle both 

 dogs and sportsmen. I was spending a few days shooting 

 with a friend, and one frosty morning early in November, 

 after beating a willowy swamp with a spaniel for woodcock, 

 we left hinTat the house and tried the stubble for quail. I 

 was hunting with a pointer with quite a reputation for field 

 work, and he was not long in locating a bevy in approved 

 fashion. After being flushed they flew in a body to one 

 corner of the field, which had been left unplowed, and 

 settled in the grass and briers, from which we expected rare 

 sport, as the cover was not thick under, and above it waa 

 comparatively open shooting. We followed at once, and 

 after beating the ground carefully in every direction, suc- 

 ceeded in kicking out one quail but got never a point. My 

 friend condemned my dog, although he had seen him do 

 good work before, both on grouse and woodcock, and insisted 

 on my watching the "patch" while he went to the house 

 after Don, the spaniel, assuring me that he "would have 

 every one a going in less than ten minutes." I was incredu- 

 lous, but to please him sat down and patiently waited. After 

 about thirty minutes he appeared with Don, and for the 

 second time carefully beat out the patch without finding a 

 feather. We then went to dinner thoroughly disgusted and 

 mystified, and while at the table heard the quail calling from 

 the very spot we had hunted so persistently & short time 

 before. That dinner was a hasty one, and at its conclusion 

 we hurried again to the grass and briers and got point after 



