24 



FOREST -AND STREAM. 



[Atia. 5, i^. 



Domesticating Wildfowl. — Cold Spring Harbor, N. 

 T., Aug. 2— Editor Forest and Stream: In June one of 

 my wood ducks laid three eggs and abandoned the nc«t. 

 The eggs were ijlaced under a hen, but were not fertile, 

 although the whole flock, wliich consists of seventeen 

 pairs and two odd di'akes, mated in mid-winter, and no 

 one who saw them daily would doubt but all eggs would 

 be weU impregnated; The mallarde and pintaUs are not 

 old enough to breed, but should do so next year. The 

 mandarins were tlxree years old this spring, and have 

 bred. This, as sonie of your readers may not know, is the 

 Chinese wood duck, having the same habit as oiu- native 

 bird, but differing in plumao'e. The female laid ten eggs 

 in all. The two first were bad before they were placed 

 under a hen (twenty-two days), and One had no shell. Of 

 the seven eggs put under the hen on June 29, four hatched 

 in twenty-eight days, and tlu-ee had no birds in them. I 

 do not know that these birds have ever been bred in 

 America before, and in fact am not sure that there are 

 any pairs of them here. The Cincinnati Zoo. had a drake 

 which mated with a wood duck last year, but nothiD.g 

 came of it. My youngsters are well and growing. I have 

 been unable to get a mate for the green- winged teal which 

 has not laid, nor for the English widgeon drake. If any 

 of your correspondents happen to know where such birds 

 can be obtained I would like to hear from them. Next 

 year the flock will bo given a wider range over pond, 

 swamp and meadow, and greater success in breeding may 

 follow. By careful attention to their wants these beauti- 

 ful birds may be bred in a state of semi-domestication that 

 will repay the effort. Tliis year at least a dozen pairs of 

 wood ducks took possession of the nests, and fought over 

 them as though they were about to begin house-keeping, 

 but there it ended. * It is possible that the confinement 

 was too close or that the food was not just right, but next 

 year I hope to report better results. — Fred Mather. 



Habitat of the Quail. — ^Havana, Cuba, — Editor For- 

 est and Stream: Will you please inform us as to the 

 northern and southern limits of habitat of Ortyx virgini- 

 anus? My own shooting of this species has ranged from 

 the fourth to the forty-second parallel of north latitude, 

 and I know of no physical reason why its habitat should 

 not extend from Hudson's Bay to Patagonia. — Nemo. 

 [What has been knoAvn as Ortyx virginianus is confined 

 to temperate North America. To the southward the 

 species changes gradually, becoming smaller and darker 

 on the Atlantic seaboard (floHdana), and smaller and 

 grayer in the southwest {texana). In Arizona and 

 Mexico a number of forms are found which differ mark- 

 edly'' in coloratioii from our bird and yet have habits ex- 

 tremely like it. The OdontiplwrincB are most abundant 

 in Central and South America, but the true Ortyx virgini- 

 anus, or, as he is now known, Colinus virginianus, is not 

 found south of the United States.] 



mm 



Address all communimtiom to the Forest and Sbream Pub. Co. 



THE FIRST TRACKING SNOW. 



A WINTER'S TALE FOR SUMMER READING. 



IT came near the end of December. All thi'ough the 

 autumn,here in this f ar-ofi" moimtain land, we had waited 

 impatiently for its coming, yet the clouds that drifted 

 slowly up from the great Pacific and twined in misty 

 wreaths around the mountain crags brought us only rain. 

 For weary weeks the dripping vegetation protected the 

 game as with a hedge of thorns. In vain had I on half a 

 dozen occasions essayed to find a deer among the foothills 

 of the mountains on "the west of our httle valley, only to 

 return after an hour's tramp, dripping and disgusted, and 

 more than ever before aware that in still air, with nothing 

 to shake it off, a pine leaf can hold a string of rain drops 

 Buspended in the air longer than any other leaf that 

 grows, 



For six weeks I had not killed a single deer. Venison 

 had disappeared from the cabin, and the seven little ones 

 who daily gather around our table, and who love venison 

 with a love passing the love of woman, began at last even 

 to quiz the water-soaked hunter whom they had hereto- 

 fore regarded as the peer of Daniel Boone himself. In 

 vain did I refer to the eleven deer that I had already 

 brought in during the season before the rainy weather 

 had begun. The spell was broken. They were fast be- 

 coming a crowd of scoffers, and the oldest boy who had 

 been stTidying woodcraft for the past two years, and who, 

 during that time had killed three deer, sagely mentioned 

 his abihty to kill deer enough for the whole family. There 

 was nothing for it but to abide my time — 



Nursing my wnrath to keep it warm. 



At length one evening a mysterious chiU crept down 

 the mountain side, and slowly, gently, the beautiful 

 flakes of the welcome snow hovered over all the land, 

 and eddying sloAvly downward slept at last on cliff and 

 crag, and in the gloomiest depths of the caflons that fur- 

 rowed the mountain sides, tiu-ning all the hills and valleys 

 into f auwland. 



It was evident at nightfall that the morrow would be 

 favorable; and when returning daylight showed four 

 inches of snow, soft and light as down, with more still 

 falling, I hastened to dress my feet in German socks and 

 soft moccasins (the most perfect foot-dress for the still- 

 hunter I have ever tried) and taking the Marlm .4o-70, 

 climbed the hill on the west of the valley, and gammg at 

 length the bank of a little creek that ran into a mountain 

 lake to the northwest, followed along its banks and 

 searched the low hills near by, but no fresh sign appeaxmg 

 I turned southward and climbed to the top of a high 

 plateau, and hunted carefully in that direction for two 

 miles. Very slowly and carefully I crept on, makmg no 

 noise and scanning carefully every object. About 9 

 o'clock the snow ceased falling, leaving a depth ot btx 

 inches on the ground, with the sky cloudy and dark. It 

 was an an almost perfect day for still-hunting, and as I was 

 on my mettle and very reluctant to return empty-handed 

 to that crowd of laugluug children, all the acquired skill 

 of thirty years of deer hunting was brought into play. 



Both black and white-tailed deer are found here, although 

 where I was hunting one was more apt to find the white- 

 tails, the big blacktails or mule deer feeding commonly 

 further up the mountain side. Still, there was a possibil- 

 ity of findmg either of theaa. 



Noon came and went and still no sign, 



At length I reached the head of a ravine that ran east- 

 ward down tlirough a break in the great basalt cliff that 

 stands in a perpendicular wall a hmidred feet high along 

 the west side of that part of our valley, and here, while I 

 was going across a brush-covered ridge, a deer track half 

 fuU of snow cauglit my eye. A large deer, evidently with 

 a long stride, and which put me for a time to no end of 

 trouble by perversely climbing up into the most absurd 

 places along the foot of the cliff and then creeping dovsm 

 agaui to the very bottom of the ravine. The txack had 

 evidently been made about daylight. After following it 

 for half a mile down t]ie ravine I came suddeidy into a 

 perfect wilderness of tracks, fresher tlian the one I was 

 following. A careful search showed the trails of a band 

 of six deer, and as they kept along the west bank of the 

 ravine and the single trail turned down across it, I left the 

 single trail and turned my attention to the crowd . In and 

 out, back and forth, up and down zigzagged the confusing 

 network of trails, gradually working down the ravine far 

 past the great wall of basalt, where the ravine was flanked 

 on the north by a bluff two hundred feet high, steep as it 

 could hang, with occasional projecting spurs of the inevit- 

 able basalt, the angular fragments of which, crumbled 

 from the mass above, strewed the narrow valley below. 

 The timber here and on the adjoining hills was very scat- 

 tering, with but little brush, making the ground quite 

 favorable for hunting. 



Finally the trails tm-ned directly to the left, straight up 

 the face of the bluff, so steep as to be almost impossible 

 of ascent. Slowly and wearily I toiled ujjward, using the 

 butt of my rifle as a cane, and when near the top I fell 

 \vith a racket that seemed to make noise enough among 

 the rocks and twigs to alarm all the deer in the hills. 

 Arrived at the crest, the trail turned to the right, along 

 the edge of the bluff, and after following it for a few 

 hundred yards, just as I reached the crest of a knoll, two 

 fr&sh deer beds and a world of tracks, evidently made 

 within the last three minutes, instantly strung every 

 nerve to concert j)itch. 



The first glance was fairly bewildeiing, for all the tracks 

 pointed backward, and the deer were walking too. 



I could hardly believe my eyes. A hm-ried look back- 

 ward showed me that while I'had been intently scanning 

 the ground far in advance I had gone a few steps along 

 their fresh trail without observing it, while back a few 

 rods the fresh tracks left the old ones and turned oft' to 

 the left, directlv over the edge of the bluff, at a point 

 steeper than where I had climbed it. Could I catch sight 

 of them before they reached the dense jungle at the bot- 

 tom of the ravine, was the question. A swift run to the edge 

 pf the bluff, a glance downward, and there, a hundred 

 yards distant and two hundred feet below, stood a white- 

 tailed doe half hidden by the drooping branches of a small 

 fir. Only her hips were" in sight, and taking a hmTied aim 

 I fired. At the crack of the rifle she staggered and then 

 sprang beliind some small trees, wlien instantly the steep 

 hillside seemed alive with deer as the five others made a 

 few frightened leaps and stopped, evidently bewildered 

 and unable to locate the dreaded foe. Another crack of 

 the rifle and a fine doe went sprawling down into the 

 ravine, when a frightened fawn sprang into an opening, 

 stopped for a final backward glance, and again the rapid 

 repeater told its tale of death, sending the graceful crea- 

 ture wliirling down the hillside outof sight behind a bush. 



None of the others appearing, I crept carefully down 

 the bluff to find the fawn already dead and the other two 

 unable to escape. These were killed immediately, and 

 the whole being dressed and made ready for the pack 

 saddle. As night was coming on, I turned my weary 

 steps homeward, ready to face the little crowd of eager 

 questioners who met me at my door. Uncle Fuller. 



Thetis, Stevens County, Wash. Ter. 



FOXES AND FOXHOUNDS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Since wiiting the history of old Loud's famous ran I 

 have had a most enjoyable time reviewing events of long 

 ago. I cannot better describe the effect produced upon 

 me than to quote the words of "the dearest and best of 

 her sex," who remarked to one of the children, "Father 

 must be thinking over some of his fox hunts, he appears 

 to be so happy." Not least among the pleasing reminis- 

 ences of the past was the sweet remembrance of her loving 

 smile and willing ear as I recounted the tale of successful 

 sport. Not least among the blessings remembered was 

 the recollection of her look of sympathy and words of 

 cheer when the trail was lost. As memory harks back to 

 the good old times, in fancy I can hear the bui-st of glori- 

 ous music and see the flymg forms of long ago. Again 

 with buoyant step I follow the exciting chase. Again I 

 pause upon the breezy hilltop to listen with bated breath 

 to the dearly loved niusic of the eager dogs. 



Among the earliest recollections of my fox-hunting 

 days is the wrinkled phiz and bent form of old Tom 

 Lovell, better known as Old Grimes. How he came by 

 this cognomen was an oft-told tale at our country store, 

 which was a general resort for fox hunters far and near. 

 Old Tom was at a favorite runway on top of a ledge wait- 

 ing for the fox to come round, and by some mischance he 

 lost his footing and tumbled to the bottom. Uncle Mose 

 Baker, who was stationed on the opposite side of the val- 

 ley at once hastened to him and found him lying sense- 

 less, with his face covered with blood from an ugly-look- 

 ing wound in his forehead. Uncle Mose, thmking him 

 done for, carefully raised his head, when he feebly mut- 

 tered, "I'm dead; I wish I had some cider." Just then 

 old Sounder broke out at the head of the vaUey, when 

 old Tom jumped to his feet, scrambled up the ledge, 

 grabbed his gun, and five minutes later was skimiing' the 

 fox. He was late at the store that evening, and Uncle 

 Mose had told the story in his best style to a full house. 

 The shouts of laughter had hardly subsided when old 

 Tom's well-known footstep was heard on the porch. As 

 he opened the door the crowd almost as one man broke 

 out to the fuU extent of their limgs in the song "Old 

 Grimes is dead," and ever after he was only known as Old 

 Grimes. He and Uncle Mose were great cronies, and 

 nothing pleased either of them better than to have a good 

 story to tell of the other, and as both were adepts m prac- 

 tical joking and telling a story, there was generally lots 

 of fun going on almost every evening at the old store. 



There was one story, however, in which both of them 

 figured that neither was ever heard to breathe a word 

 about. Each of them fatted a pig and when it was time 

 to kill them Uncle Mose went over to old Tom's and 



helped him butcher and hang up the pig; they then fin- 

 ished the day with a fox hunt. A few days later Uncle 

 Mose's pig was to be killed and old Tom was on hand at 

 daybreak. It was bitter cold and both dogs were put in 

 the barn for safe keeping. This was a short-sighted piece 

 of business, however, as the dogs were no sooner in there 

 than they bolted through the stable window and were off 

 for the big cedar swamp, a half mile or so from the house. 

 Uncle Mose had been up for some time getting things 

 ready, and the men had not long to wait before the water 

 in the big set kettle was boiling. They then stuck the pig, 

 and after emptying the water into the half hogshead tub 

 hauled him there, and locking hands under him prepared 

 to ease him down into the tub. 



Just then there was a bui-st of heavenly music, and 

 looking up they saw the open-mouthed dogs a few feet 

 behind their fox, making straight for the runway a short 

 distance below the house. The tense fingers relaxed their 

 grip, the corpse slid into the tub and both grabbed their 

 guos and put in their best licks for the runway. They 

 were too late, however, but as the fox was sure to cross 

 back to the swamp a little further down they still kept on. 

 "Wliat befel them after this will ever remain a profound 

 mystery, for, as I remarked before, they never mentioned 

 the subject. All that is known leaked out through Uncle 

 Mose's wife, who said that just at dusk she saw them 

 come round the corner and cast a fm*tive glance at the 

 tub where the pig was frozen in soUd. O. M. 



MOOSE CALLING. 



TO-DAY I met "Gabe," Avell-known here as the besc 

 Indian himter in the Province. I asked him to give 

 me some information about moose calhng. In the rut- 

 ting season the Indians have a way of calling the bull 

 moose by preparing a horn of birch bark from which.they 

 emit a soimd similar to the low of tlie cow, and when the 

 bull hears it he goes at once toward the call, thinking to 

 find his mate, but oftener to meet his death warrant. 

 Gabe advised me that the first moon in September is the 

 time for calling. The best ground is Fox Stream, on a 

 branch of Salmon River, about fifty mfles from Freder- 

 icton, to reach which you take the steamer and go to 

 Salmon River wharf, and then go up the river in canoes. 

 Call from Lake Stream Lake. As the stream is generally 

 very low at that season of the yeai", you must haul your 

 canoes by horse power part of the way, so it generally 

 takes from three to four days to get on the groimd. And 

 then, he says, you must not expect that there viill be a 

 moose all ready waiting for you to shoot. Perhaps you 

 may have to wait a foi-tnight before you can get a shot; 

 but you can occujjy your time in shooting ducks, par- 

 tridges and still-hunting caribou. The shooting, he said, 

 does not seem to disturb the moose. 



It requires a dead calm night to call. The horn is made 

 of birch bark and the man who expects to kill must be a 

 smai-t one, willing to work and put up with fatigue and 

 have plenty of patience. You must go some distance 

 from camp, out of range of camp-fii-e, and very often have; 

 to stay out all night before getting a shot. Moose are: 

 plenty there just now, as none have been killed in that, 

 locality for the last two years, for the snow Avas not deepi 

 enough to run them down, the way in which they are^ 

 generally slaughtered. The moose are very strong at this: 

 season of the year and take "a power of killing." Hehas; 

 called a great "many, and seen a great many fired at, but. 

 very few Icillcd. Two gentlemen will requu-e three canoes. 

 and three men. Gabe charges |3 per day for himself and! 

 canoe and looks after the whole party. The other Indians, 

 charge for themselves and canoes .$1.50 per day. There! 

 are several other good grounds for calling but none aat 

 good as Lake Stream LaJse, where you can use a canoe.'^ 

 To get to the other places you will have to pack your pro- 

 visions. 



The outfit taken consists of four tin kettles that will fit 

 into each other, one for cooking, one for tea, one for clean, 

 water, and one to talte with you when you want to gO' 

 from camp; two frying-pans, tin cups and plates; a Avire- 

 grilse to roast a fish or partridge; two blankets for each, 

 man (the Indians provide their own); pork, flour, codfish,, 

 tea, sugar, pepper, salt, onions, etc., and asmanyluxmies. 

 as you may think proper. MOOSB. 



Fbedkiucton, N. B., .July 20. 



THE PRAIRIE CHICKENS. 



Editor Forest and Stream.: 



The very dry weather this season has been damaging to» 

 crops, but' excellent for prairie chickens, and the shooting 

 this fall Avill be unsiupassed. Prairie chickens are unus- 

 ually abundant aU tlirough this section, and tlie outlook; 

 for plenty of sport is exceUent. Later we Avill have geese- 

 and ducks in abundance. There is no better point for 

 sportsmen seeking good fall shooting, than Bismarck. 



J. G, 



BiSMABCK, Dakota. 



THE PUGET SOUND BASIN. 



THE Puget Sound Basin, and especially that particular 

 portion contiguous to Bellingham Bay, in Whatcom 

 comity, certainly offers to sportsmen advantages that can- 

 not be found elsewhere: game and fish in abimdance, a 

 climate that is unsurpassed, cool and refreslmig m the 

 summer months and mild and pleasant during the winter 

 season. It is a section which, because of its rem<3tenes» 

 from the larger cities, has Ijeen but httle frequented in the 

 past, but which, within the near futm-e, must become the 

 most popular resort for sportsmen on the American conti- 

 nent. Deer, bear, cougar and pheasants are abundant 

 within five miles of the bay; in the eastern portion of the 

 county, among the foothills, are foimd herds of elk; higher 

 up, in the snow-covered Cascade Mountains, the more vig- 

 orous and daring may find the grizzly bear and occasion- 

 ally mountain sheep. The numerous lakes and rivers 

 abound in trout and salmon, while the haUbut, sturgeon, 

 cod and other deep-Avater fish may be obtained with very 

 little effort. The disciples of the rod and gun will never 

 be at a loss to fill both creel and bag with the choicest of 

 nature's offerings. _ 



But we have game laws here, and insist upon their en- 

 forcement. We want sportsmen to come to this new 

 Northwest and help us "clam eaters" to enjoy the mani- 

 fold advantages here offered. Letters of inqun-y from 

 cenuine sportsmen wiU be cheerfully answered by me. 

 ^ Will D. Jensins. 



Whatcom, Wash. Tcr. 



