July 27, 1895.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



71 



suspense, and feels impelled to do something to put an 

 end to it. Byron forcibly illustrates this frame of mind in 

 the words: 



"And some jumped overboard with fearful yell, 

 As eager to anticipate the grave." 



In the case described by me the squirrel was out of 

 danger, for the dogs could' not follow him, but that was a 

 fact of which he had no knowledge. Chas. F. Amery, 



The Plume Bird Traffic. 



St. Augustine, Fla — Editor Forest and Stream'. In 

 one of E. Hough's always interesting communications he 

 mentions that Percy Stone met Billy Griggs, and that Billy 

 told him he ' 'had cleaned up about a thousand dollars on 

 egrets this season; had cleaned out one or two roosts 

 and was then on his way to another that he knew of." 



Now all this may be very entertaining to the general 

 reader, but sets the blood to boiling in the veins of those 

 who know about this devilish business. No man who has 

 a right to call himself a sportsman would engage in this 

 plume hunting traffic even if he could "clean up" five 

 thousand. The plume birds of Florida have been thor- 

 oughly cleaned up and professional bird butchers are scat- 

 tered all through South America. 



Let us look into this business of "shooting out a roost." 

 A few years ago a well-known literary man was spending 

 the winter in Florida, and as he was anxious to get a few 

 plumes for his lady frienda he watched a roost at night, 

 and when the swarm of birds had all got in he would fire 

 both barrels into the tree, and of course cover the ground 

 with birds; but as it was impossible to find the very few 

 plumed ones among the dead and dying, as it was dark and 

 the cover thick, he would go home, indulge in innocent 

 dreams and in the morning go the tree and from the scores 

 of useless ones pick up probably from one to five and leave 

 the rest to rot. This is the sort of work that the political 

 fools who compose the Florida Legislature have allowed 

 to be carried on for years and have not yet waked up to 

 the importance of stopping. Dtdymus. 



[Billy Griggs's plume bird harvest was not credited to 

 him as a sportsman. Griggs is a professional market- 

 hunter, and kills plume birds just as he does ducks, for 

 what there is in it.] 



The Deer's Whistle. 



Okonagon, Wash— Editor Forest and Stream: I 

 should liked very much to have seen that herd of deer 

 challenging, as described in Forest and Stream of June 

 15. 



When deer are tracking each other in running season 

 and occasionally out of it, they make a kind of low bleat- 

 ing or blubbering noise; and just before coming together 

 for fight they will open their mouths, run their tongues 

 out and blow or whistle, and will sometimes keep it up 

 during a fight. They often whistle when they smell a 

 hunter and cannot locate him. They invariably move as 

 8oon as they whistle. Sometimes they will run back and 

 forth a number of times, and will stop and whistle. This 

 is done through the nostrils and is a different sound from 

 the one made when in anger. 



There is a notion among a good many that in the fall 

 they rub the velvet off from their horns on brush or small 

 trees. Yet this is not so; and I do not think any hunter 

 has ever seen where a deer horned the brush, until about 

 the time they separate in the fall. The skin covering 

 comes from the horns when they get ripe, and will often 

 be seen in strips six or eight inches long, and nature dis- 

 poses of it the same as it does of the red hair in the fall. 



Lew. Wilmot. 



A Capybara in Philadelphia. 



A fine specimen of the largest of rodents, the capybara, 

 was on exhibition at the Zoological Garden yesterday. It 

 is a very peculiar member of the rat family. It looks 

 something like a prairie dog, only it is about the size of a 

 email pig. One of its peculiar features is its feet. They 

 are webbed like those of a duck, for the capybara is a 

 water animal, at least an animal with great fondness for 

 the water. 



It occupies a cage in the elephaht house and has a tank 

 to bathe in as often as it pleases, it is not yet used to its 

 quarters and crouches in the rear of the cage in a timid 

 taihion, Venturing out now and then to eat the vegetables 

 Which form its diet. Then it plunges into the mud-col- 

 ored Schuylkill water that fills its tank and hides itself 

 from view for some time. There was a capybara in the 

 .600 some months ago, but it died. It was much larger 

 than this one, and like this was brought from South 

 America. 



This country furnished two nice specimens to the Gar- 

 den last week. One was this capybara and the other an 

 infant jaguar. It is a sleek, pretty looking beast, about a 

 year old, and has a large appetite.— Philadelphia Press 



We are Promised a Horn. 



Louisiana, July 10.— Editor Forest and Stream: Please 

 accept my thanks for your thorough explosion of the 

 duck £gg fake. Your evidence is satisfactory. 



I nave been reading Mr. Hough's article on the horn 

 fcnake; I killed one here two years ago; it was black, with 

 red and brown checks about iin. square on its belly. The 

 horn wad about Sin. long, with a needle or sting ia the 

 -end of it, which protruded on pressure. There have been 

 "several killed in this part of the country. I have requested 

 "tome of my friends to bring me the horn if they killed 

 one; and if I should have the luck to kill one I will 

 send it whole to Mr. Hough to adorn Forest and Stream's 

 natural history department. We don't believe here that 

 it can "split a wagon tongue" or "kill a tree with its 

 sting ' either; but that the horn or sting is for defense, as 

 are the fangs of other snakes. J. D. Usher, M.D. 



Robins North and South. 



Meridian, Miss.— It is a pity some of those laws relating 

 to the killing of robins could not be passed and enforced 

 here. When we have a flight of them here they are 

 slaughtered right and left. In my old New England home 

 a boy would throw a stone at most any bird : but the robin , 

 the first welcome visitor, or nearly the first, was held 

 sacred. Yes, the whole family, children and all, would 

 hasten to catch a glimpse of this sweet bird when the first 

 mote was heard from the neighboring fence. G. S, 



Mink in New York City. 



The morning papers of Monday last announced with a 

 flourish of trumpets the capture of a mink in an eel pot 

 in the Harlem River, near the ferry below Queen's Bridge 

 or about 210 th street. The animal is said to have been 

 caught by Thomas Brown, the ferry man. This is not 

 unexampled, nor, we imagine, are minks very rare along 

 the upper river shores. Within a year or two a man 

 named Wagner, who keeps a fishing place on Flat Rock 

 on the Hudson River, below Fort Washington Point, 

 which is the old Jeffrey's Hook, captured one, and an- 

 other was taken on the Hudson River at the foot of West 

 152d street. We have no doubt that mink are to be found 

 occasionally in the Central Park, 



hig and 



IN A MICHIGAN CAMP. 



To CAMP in the woods with what traps one can carry on 

 his back is frequently attended with difficulties. But to 

 live for weeks in large, roomy, heavy ducking tents is 

 quite a different experience. The full measure of benefit 

 derived from this mode of camping impresses itself on 

 one during inclement weather. While the forest is bend- 

 ing to the blast and waves are lashing the shores of the 

 lake, within the tents all is warmth and comfort. 



In my boyhood days coon hunting was much in vogue, 

 and many a night have I lain by the Bide of a log under 

 a bit of bark for shelter, waiting for daylight, that I 

 mie;ht see to shoot the coon. 



But for a protracted outing give me three, four or five 

 boon companions and such an outfit as is now stored 

 away in my back room, viz., two lOoz. wall tents, a 

 sheet iron stove, two stew-pots, two frying-pans, coffee- 

 pot, buckets, table ware, axe, hand saw and small cross- 

 cut for sawing tree trunks. Now add to this bread, 

 crackers, butter, lard, potatoes, beans, bacon, salt, 

 pepper, coffee, sugar, eggs, fruit, canned goods and any 

 delicacies you choose, ail securely packed, not forgetting 

 gun box, and the trunks containing bedding and wear- 

 ing apparel. 



Follow this outfit as we take the train via Fort Wayne, 

 Chicago, Milwaukee, Green Bay, Iron Mountain and pass 

 Flood wood, Mich., to which place we are ticketed. Our 

 conductor has orders from the superintendent's office, 

 and in obedience thereto the engineer whistles down 

 brakes and we slow up and come to a full stop four miles 

 beyond the station, just where the work of Creator and 

 the creature have united to form one of the most con- 

 venient ar/d lovely camping spots imaginable. A beauti- 

 ful little lake about a mile in length, surrounded by 

 wooded hills, is just touched at its western edge by the 

 railroad grade. Some person apt in speech named it 

 Witch Lake. Truly, it had bewitched us, for we have 

 come 525 miles to camp on its shores and drink of its 

 waters. 



Now the train has sped on, and here we are With our 

 trunks and boxes, a dozen or more, containing everything 

 we shall need for a three weeks' outing except what we 

 knew we svould find in plenty, viz., pure cool water, game, 

 fowl and fish, and a pine-laden atmosphere; for are they 

 not in abundance in the lake and the forest about us? 



We have timed ourselves so as to reach here in the 

 morning, "and while we have the entire day before us a 

 feeling possesses us as though thirty years had by one 

 magic stroke been lifted from our shoulders; and a lonely 

 tramp, passing from station to station, saw six coats dang- 

 ling from bushes and six joyous, light-hearted men lug- 

 ging baggage, cleaning away briers and erecting tents, as 

 though in a race against time. A circular ridge, covered 

 with a forest of pine, hemlock, live birch and sugar, 

 forms a cove, the natural opening of which is closed at 

 the edge of the lake by the railroad grade, which here is 

 a fill some 10ft. high. This charming spot furnishes us 

 not only shelter from the wind, but wood and water at 

 our very door. Through the kindness of the railroad' 

 management only could we reach this spot, for there are 

 no wagon roads nearer than two miles, and our baggage 

 Weighs nearly 2,0001bs. . 



So by noon six men, who thirty hours before were 

 "chained to business" in their stores and offices over 500 

 miles distant; are partaking of a substantial meal spread 

 oh a newly made fiine boafd table, while around the tent 

 wall boxes containing a store of provisions occupy con- 

 venient positions. The two 12x16 tents have been erected 

 end to end, and an opening made between, then the up- 

 rights lashed together. The front tent contains the stove, 

 placed on a mound of earth inclosed by boulders or logs, 

 and in a rear corner, so some warmth may penetrate the 

 rear tent. There are also some rocks near the rear tent 

 tor hanging cooking utensils; likewise cupboard for the 

 tableware, etc., made from boxes. The table and camp 

 stools complete the outfit and leave plenty of room for 

 the cook. In the rear tent may be seen three wide beds, 

 made inside a frame of small logs, which are staked to 

 the ground. These beds consist of hemlock boughs to the 

 depth of a foot or so, upon which are spread from five to 

 eight blankets or comforters, the most desirable place 

 being usually found just under the third cover, for this 

 is the first of October, and in the Lake Superior region 

 the nights are quite cool in a canvas tent. The remainder 

 of the rear tent contains the individual trunks, and is 

 used as a dressing-room. 



Dinner over, the volunteer cook for the day arranges 

 the kitchenware, two others fall to with saw and ax, lay- 

 ing in a supply of wood, while the remainder of the party 

 overhaul guns and fishing tackle. 



Sign in the immediate vicinity assures us we have not 

 far to go to find deer; and the big brown rabbit I shot 

 with my revolver while lugging the first box off the rail- 

 road was very -good evidence that we could find small 

 game close at hand. So when the evening train sped by 

 and the train men waved us a friendly salute, we cheered 

 in chorus, while our self -constituted culinary god beat a 

 tattoo on the dish basin. After some social games and 

 arrangements for the morrow, we betook ourselves to our 

 hemlock couches, and what a soft springy bed. Have 

 you ever slept on such a bed in such a climate under like 

 conditions? If not, you can't possibly account for a freak 

 of old Morpheus which carried me, gun in hand, into the 

 dense forest, where gliding between hills" I surprised a doe 

 feeding behind a log, and as she looked up blew the top 

 of her head off with a snap shot, the said doe with one 

 mighty bound over the log landing at my feet, 



But that old Morpheus knew his business the occurrence 

 of the day following is in evidence. I was brought back 

 from my nocturnal outing and at the same time 

 awakened from a refreshing sleep by the crowing of a 

 chanticleer, and glancing through the tent door saw old 

 Reuben cutting off a shindy and making the welkin ring 

 with such lively cock-a-doodle-doos as would have ruffled 

 the feathers of the tamest barnyard boss had one been in 

 hearing. Ere the last gray streaks of dawn had left the 

 horizon, we had breakfasted, and to Reuben's question, 

 "What shall I cook for dinner?" the answer came, 

 "Beans," which brought from the veteran George the 

 camp song: "Beans for breakfast, beans for dinner, beans 

 for supper — beans— beans — beans," sung to the tune Mar- 

 tin. 



But it must not be supposed that George was throwing 

 all of his energy into that vocal effort, for at the same 

 time he was filling his cartridge belt, and as he slung his 

 rifle onto his shoulder and departed up the railroad he 

 gave us the encouraging information that he knew where 

 there was a very comfortable seat in a leaning tree about 

 a mile away, and judging from what he saw there two 

 years before he thought there would be a deer along that 

 way during the day. 



As for Sam he wanted very much to kill a deer. Nat 

 and Charley thought they knew where there were some 

 hungry fish, and providing themselves with a lunch, 

 gathered up their fishing tackle (incidentally taking their 

 guns to keep vicious animals at bay) and started for a 

 lake about a mile distant, reached by an old lumber sup- 

 ply road. There were plenty of fish such as trout, lawyer 

 and perch in White Lake, but a ramble through the for- 

 est was essential to their complete happiness the first 

 morning in camp. 



Leaving Reuben in charge of the camp I climbed the 

 wooded hill in our rear and was soon alone in the forest. 

 Not alone either, for in my hands was a .38 Winchester, 

 in my belt hunting knife, tomahawk and a supply of car- 

 tridges, and distributed about my clothing might be found 

 a reliable revolver, a drinking cup, matches, compass 

 and timepiece. No hunter could feel lonely when 

 thus provided for any emergency, and as I glided along 

 the ridge that skirted a beautiful lake three-fourths of a 

 mile in length I thought myself one of the happiest mor- 

 tals on earth. The poet who penned the line "I wish I 

 were a boy again" expressed a vain wish; but the fulness 

 of the thought comes near a realization to the sportsman 

 when situated just as I was at that hour, wending my way 

 over hill and through hollow. I here note sign where 

 deer have passed along this path, or there nipped the tips 

 of the soft raspberry bushes; grouse, that have been feed- 

 ing from buds and bits of pine cone dropped to earth by 

 the frisky pine squirrels, strut away and are lost to view 

 in the bushes, or take wing as I approach ; and the saucy 

 pineys, how they do chatter and whistle, and race up and 

 down trees and over logs, and sometimes startle me as 

 they rustle the leaves just over the hill; it sounds so much 

 like a deer coming my way. Once while standing on a 

 log motionless, as a deer hunter must, one of those saucy 

 little fellows came skipping along, and, taking me for a 

 stump no doubt, ran up my leg, then nearly to my shoul- 

 der, and stopped to gaze in my face a second before 

 becoming convinced of his mistake. How he did skedad- 

 dle when he found the thing was alive. Birds also come 

 twittering around me, and as I turned my head to see 

 what had become of one, I found it sitting on my gun 

 barrel near my shoulder. 



Presently, as I step foot by foot along a well-beaten 

 trail, I catch a glimpse of some object in a hazel thicket. 

 Rigid as a stone pillar I now stand, gun at my waist and 

 cocked. There! something is moving, but I cannot make 

 out what it is. See! it is coming toward me, gliding 

 through the brush — one, two, yes, three deer in single file 

 and not 75yds. away. Steady now, let them come. No 

 "buck ague" here. Now the doe is out in the open, and 

 following the trail turns her right shoulder toward me. 

 Up comes my rifle, and as it reaches my face the forest 

 reverberates with its report and the doe totters and falls 

 headlong. Pumping the lever, I send a parting shot at 

 the other deer, which have turned tail and dashed off 

 through the thicket. I followed the fleeing deer only far 

 enough to ascertain that I had not wounded one, then 

 hung the doe, satisfied with sufficient camp meat and the 

 knowledge that Morpheus had been vindicated. Crossing 

 over to where Nat and Charley were feeding the fish, I 

 found them partially prepared for the news, as they had 

 heard the report of my gun. The prospect of bean soup 

 instead of cold lunch, with a supper in which venison 

 would figure as the chief course, overcame Nat's and 

 Charley's sympathy for the poor fish, and they readily 

 consented to go with me and assist in carrying the doe to 

 camp. We made a litter with poles and lin bark, and 

 lashing the carcass on to this, two men made very good 

 headway with it while the third man carried the guns. 

 So after much scrambling over logs and through brush, 

 we reached camp in time to join our comrades at the din- 

 ner table. G. W. Cunningham. 



Running Down Flappers. 



Orion, 111., July 16. — Editor Forest and Stream: The 

 Sidney (Neb.) Telegraph reports that "the boys are enjoy- 

 ing themselves runnmg down young wild geese on the 

 river. They are nearly full grown, but not able to fly." 

 Is it at all probable that this statement is true? or do 

 geese not nest on the Platte River? Also, is there not a 

 law protecting young geese? O. B. Johnson. 



[Tnere is no reason to doubt the statement. The Game 

 Laws in Brief says that there is no close season on wild 

 geese in Nebraska. Might it not be an excellent scheme 

 to direct against the Indians of the Platte some of the 

 surplus of the indignation which has been misdirected in 

 the Alaska Indian duck egg fake?] 



Well, the Time is Coming. 



Milton, W. Va. — I hope I will see the time when For- 

 est and Stream's platform plank, "Forbid the sale of 

 game at all seasons," will be a law in full force in every 

 State. If it is not made a law in a very few years we will 

 not have any game at all. Just as the hide-hunter killed 

 the buffalo, so are the market-hunters killing all of our 

 game. Make Forest and Stream's platform plank a law, 

 and all will be well. 



In issue of July 6, "Von W." on spring shooting voices 

 my sentiments exactly. All honor to the Forest and 

 Stream for exposing that duck egg fake and showing up 

 game law violations. B. W, 



