180 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aug. 31, 1895 . 



body, and then stopped. She lowered her head aDd 

 plucked a lilypad, and then— looked straight into our eyes 

 only 50ft. away. 



Poor little girl, I regret from the bottom of my soul our 

 intrusion and the shock we gave you. For an instant she 

 stood rooted to the spot, a perfect picture of startled in- 

 nocence, and then she had disappeared in the friendly 

 bushes, but long afterward we could hear her whistling 

 and upbraiding us. I had secured a picture, which 

 should have been the prettiest of our trip, but one of the 

 exasperating things which are sure to fall to the lot of the 

 game photographer happened and lost us the negative. 

 When I replaced the plate-holder slide I found that the 

 plate had become dislodged and fallen outside and conse- 

 quently was worthless. Mournfully I consigned it to the 

 bottom of the lake, and having reloaded, we proceeded 

 to see what lay beyond the point. 



We soon came in sight of a buck with fine horns stand- 

 ing knee-deep in the water and grass watching us. We 

 could not go ahead further on account of the noise the 

 grass made rubbing against the sides of the canoe, and 

 for an hour sat there watching and hoping for a favorable 

 opportunity to get closer, or for the deer to come closer 

 to us. 



The first buck was soon joined by another with even 

 finer horns, some of the points of which turned down- 

 ward like a crumpled cow's. The bucks were about 

 100yds. distant, and seemed to recognize in our boat 

 something unusual. They had evidently heard the doe's 

 outcry and suspected that all was not right. 



Occasionally an eddy in the wind would give them a 

 faint taint of our presence, and though they waited a 

 long while and occasionally took a mouthful to eat, they 

 were always on their guard. Eventually they moved off 

 without giving us the desired picture, one of them whis- 

 tling for fully five minutes. J. B. Btjrnha&i. 



Office of Forest and Stream. 



THE OUTING OF SIX.-I. 



From Provo to Panguitch. 

 Fob weeks I had eagerly awaited the 1st of June. It 

 had been three years since I enjoyed my last real outing, 

 and the homesickness for fragrant pines and fondly- 

 remembered trout streams made the chains gall more 

 than they had ever done before. Especially did I feel the 

 friction with each fiesh arrival of Forest and Stream, 

 and when vacation came I was ready to go, almost aim- 

 lessly, and yet in hopes of exploring either the Henry 

 Mountains of Utah or the Buckskins and the Grand Cation 

 of the Colorado before my return home. In either event 

 the study of flora and fauna was to go hand in hand with 

 rod and gun. 



Casting about for companions, I naturally chose some 

 of my own students who had shown marked ability in the 

 field of natural science, so the personnel of the party was 

 as follows: Andrew C. , specialist in botany and the best 

 rustler of the outfit; Ted, specialist in ornithology; Doc 

 (with a sheepskin from some Ohio medical college and a 

 fair knowledge of taxidermy)— Doc is Ted's older brother; 

 Perry and Collie (prospective pedagogues), adepts in the 

 art of enjoying pure and simple loafing; lastly, Shoshone, 

 to whom you need no introduction. As I was supposed to 

 play mentor for the party, it might not be amiss to men- 

 tion the books that I took from my library, as they will 

 prove of use to any student who traverses southern Utah 

 ornorthern Colorado: "Geology of the Henry Mountains," 

 "Physical Geography of the Grand Canon District," "Ter- 

 tiary History of the Grand Canon District," Ridg way's 

 "Manual of North American Birds," Hornaday's "Taxi- 

 dermy and Zoological Collecting," while the botanies 

 made quite a load of themselves. Where books can be 

 transported without too great discomfort, they should 

 never be considered useless impedimenta. For my part, 

 I know only that which I gather in its chosen habitat. 

 With dried, wrapped and labeled museum and laboratory 

 specimens I can strike but a casual acquaintance. 



Our outfit included six rods with tackle, three rifles, two 

 guns (10-gauge and 12-gauge), one tank for alcoholic 

 specimens, taxidermy implements, botany presses, pro- 

 visions for two weeks, cooking utensils, two wagon covers 

 bedding and plenty of extra clothing. We took no tent 

 for reasons that will appear later on. Doc also took his 

 setter Elsie and pointer Rex, and I had intended taking 

 my thoroughbred mastiff Rex, but changed my mind be- 

 fore it was too late, as such a trip would have killed so 

 heavy a dog. 



At 8 o'clock Monday morning, June 3, my alarm clock 

 routed me out. It was a short matter to have afire going 

 and coffee on. Then my horse was fed and saddled, and, 

 faithfully promising that I would return within five 

 weeks, I sat down to the last breakfast at home for many 

 a long day. Before the meal was finished Doc and Ted 

 drove up in a buckboard that carried half the duffle of the 

 expedition, and at 5 o'clock the start was made. 



The morning was perfect. Far to the south Mt. Nebo 

 glistened in the early sunlight, crowned with snow and 

 forming a landmark for fifty miles. On either side were 

 purple fields of fragrant lucern, and already the music of 

 the mowing machine was humming through the valley. 

 Two miles to the west stretched Utah Lake, and in and out 

 amid the tule islands swam thousands of teal and mallards 

 and redheads in conscious security. By 10 o'clock we 

 had left the valley, crossed Mapleton Bench and were 

 well in Spanish Fork Canon. Here we experienced our 

 first delay. The blast of a gang of road makers completely 

 blockaded our way and we were obliged to wait three 

 hours for the debris to be removed and the trail made 

 passable. This within two miles of Castilla Hot Springs, 

 where we had expected to take dinner. But we made the 

 best of our luck, rested our horses and ate lunch by the 

 side of Spanish Fork River, at this time so high and 

 muddy that it seemed impossible for trout to exist in it. 



The afternoon drive was noteworthy on account of the 

 windstorm that prevailed. Clouds of dust shut out the 

 landscape, making traveling anything but enjoyable. 

 The effects of this storm, which was much more severe in 

 Southern Utah, were visible as far south as the Grand 

 Canon. Leaving Spanish Fork Canon, we went up Thistle 

 Creek, where the mountains withdrew on either side, 

 leaving a valley twelve miles long by two miles wide. 

 Here the crops are at least four weeks behind those of 

 Utah Valley. Thistle Creek is an excellent trout stream, 

 and a few deer are to be found in the east and west hills, 

 though the tie-choppers have made big game almost as 

 scarce as hen's teeth. The heavy roadB and clouds of 



sand made speed or comfort an impossibility. It was 

 dusk when we reached Indianola, thirty-seven miles from 

 Provo and 1,500ft. above Utah Valley. As Indianola is 

 made up principally of semi-civilized Indians, we con- 

 cluded that it was better to camp out than to accept cabin 

 hospitality. After graining and pasturing our horses, we 

 managed to make a fire in spite of the gale, and Doc and 

 Ted had their first experience in outdoor cookery. I was 

 awakened about midnight by cool, refreshing snow drift- 

 ing softly across my face. Tucking my head under the 

 wagon sheet I slept peacefully until morn. 



Tuesday, June 4. was cloudy in the morning and stormy 

 in the afternoon. The weather was propitious neither for 

 hunting nor collecting. During the day we crossed the 

 divide between Utah and Sanpete valleys (elevation 

 6,500ft.) and at nightfall found ourselves at Epbraim, 

 wet, hungry and seventy-five miles from home. Need-, 

 less to say we did not attempt to camp out, but enjoyed a 

 good supper and feather beds at a commodious farm- 

 house. We left Ephraim on Wednesday morning in a 

 tremendous storm, which lasted until we reached Manti. 

 Then the sky cleared and I rode ahead to Gunnison, 

 ninety-seven miles from Provo, and the end of the first 

 stage of our journey. The scenery after leaving Manti 

 was entirely different from the scenery about Provo. The 

 Wasatch Mountains have given place to the Wasatch 

 Plateau and the rolling mountains on either side are 

 either barren or covered with cedars. The prevailing 

 color of the bottom lands is the alkaline gray; of the hills, 

 red. We are in a region of salt and gypsum, of black, 

 isolated' trachyte domes and towers, a region of bad water 

 — the sinkhole, perhaps, of some pleistocene or neocene 

 lake. 



Gunnison perpetuates the name of Capt. Gunnison, U. ? 

 S. A., an indefatigable and scientific explorer, who. in 

 the early fifties, was here massacred by the Utes. Five 

 years ago Gunnison had no future. To-day it is the 

 most prosperous town in south central Utah. It cuts 

 more hay and winters more cattle than any other settle- 

 ment in the Territory. Reason, water! water!! wateril! 

 When the Gunnisonians found that they could not get 

 water enough in their ditches, they deliberately dammed 

 the Sanpitch River, backed water and successfully com- 

 pleted the first great irrigation reservoir in Utah. The 

 artificial lake is five or six miles long by about three- 

 quarters of a mile in width. Already it is a great resort 

 of ducks. Unfortunately it has been stocked with carp. 

 It would make an excellent bass pond, and I am in hopes 

 that it will yet be filled with game fish. In this vicinity 

 areseveral large Indian mounds that are well worthy of in- 

 vestigation, but we had no time to devote to them. 



At Gunnison Andrew had a sheep wagon ready for us, 

 and Perry and Collie were to meet us at this point. This 

 was our first experience with a sheep wagon as part of a 

 camping outfit, and while it was commodious and saved a 

 tent, it was too heavy and uncomfortable for traveling 

 purposes. Our two neophytes put in an appearance 

 Thursday afternoon, and at 4 o'clock, having transferred 

 all our duffle to the sheep wagon, we set out for Salina. 

 This place was reached about 7:30. The trip had been 

 made slowly in order to let the boys target their rifles on 

 jack rabbits. 



Friday, June 7.— This morning dawned threatening. 

 All about the surrounding hills hung low storm clouds, 

 and we changed our route on this account. We had pur- 

 posed going through Grass Valley and up the East Fork of 

 the Sevier ; but that being the rainiest valley in the south, 

 we detei mined to follow the main stream to Panguitch, 

 and so saved many a ducking. Here we left the railroad, 

 having followed the line of the Rio Grande Western & 

 Sevier Valley branch all the way from Provo. And now 

 our collecting began. Flora and fiauna commenced to 

 change, but our first specimens were geological, consisting 

 of obsidians, volcanic glass, chalcedony and curious water 

 formations that are of not infrequent occurrence in recent 

 volcanic districts. We made a long noon camp at the 

 Vermilion Bridge over the Sevier. Collie made the bread, 

 and our appetites did full justice to the viands, though as 

 yet we had neither fish, flesh nor fowl of our own provid- 

 ing. The afternoon drive lay over a long, hot sagebrush • 

 bench, between the river and Richfield. I took Andrew's 

 place as driver of the sheep wagon, while he used my 

 pony for botanical purposes. We found about fifteen 

 species not found in Provo — mostly composites, chenopo- 

 divse, krinitzkias, gilias and phacelias. Of ; avifauna the 

 most common was the desert horned lark (O. alpestris 

 arenicola), which seemed to me to be almost identical with 

 its prairie congener. 



At 5:30 we passed through Richfield, and at half -past 7 

 we pitched camp in Elsinore, 139 miles from Provo. The 

 drive during the latter part of the afternoon was in a most 

 delightful farming country. Elsinore provides almost all 

 of Utah south of this point with flour and bacon. All day 

 long we had traveled through a country th|at commonly 

 abounds in jack rabbits and chickens, but oi^ this particu- 

 lar day chickens are nesting and rabbits non sunt. The 

 only game we saw were a few cotton-tails in the willows 

 where we camped at noon. 



Saturday, June 8.— We left Elsinore about 9 o'clock, but 

 before we were fairly out of the settlement the ornithol- 

 ogists had their inning, and they kept it up for more 

 than an hour. The orchards in the south part of town 

 were fairly alive with birds that I had not noticed in 

 northern Utah, some being new to all of us. It did seem 

 wanton cruelty to take any of them, and I am heartily 

 opposed to shooting in the vicinity of dwellings, but this 

 case seemed to warrant a breaking of our rule; so I told 

 the boys to get what they needed, not to exceed one pair 

 of any one species. I determined the species, but as Doc 

 was going to mount the specimens he retained the field 

 notes, so I can recall only the following: Sphyrapieus 

 thyroidens, Cass; Ictems bulloeJci, Sevains, and Dendroica 

 aestiva morcomi. 



Three or four miles from town we passed above the 

 ditch line, and for some miles had a rocky, sagebush, up- 

 hill road. The only specimens added to the collection 

 were two [small ;brown ground squirrels, gravid females 

 in each instance. As a rule nine-tenths of the ground 

 squirrels, gophers and prairie dogs that we shot were of 

 this kind. I can recall but two males taken during the 

 entire trip. About 1 o'clock, when we had given up all 

 hope of water for dinner, we came upon a swale where 

 was a spring and water enough for a couple of acres of 

 grain. Here, too, was a lumber house, with log stable 

 and corral, and here we saw our first game. About the 

 place limped a broken-legged doe that had evidently been 

 raised on the bottle, while on the Btable was nailed a 



fresh coyote skin, its heretofore annexed carcass lying on 

 the ground beside it. A small boy told us that it (carcass 

 and skin) had got into the chicken coop on the preceding 

 night and that the five dogs belonging to the ranch had 

 used it up. This was our place for dinner, and that meal, 

 with the skinning of the birds and the pressing of plants, 

 took us until 3 o'clock. Then in a drenching shower we 

 started to find Marysvale Hill, making four miles in 

 three hours. From the pines at the summit of this divide 

 I should judge its elevation to be about 7,000ft. Botan- 

 ically the climb resulted in a new pentstemon and a new 

 gilia — new to us, not sp. nov. 



The descent was speedy and easy. Unfortunately Doc 

 took one of the saddle horses and lost himself in the 

 cedars. When we came dowr ink the valley we found 

 ducks (mostly mallards) on every slough. It was dark 

 when we reached Thompsc >i's ranch. Here our horses 

 enjoyed the luxury of a stable. Four of the boys occupied 

 the camp house. Andrew and I made our bed in the 

 sheep wagon, and then, while the storm raged outside, 

 we cooked supper in the large camp house chimney place. 

 We had made but twenty miles during the day, but these 

 were more trying than any thirty that we had made be- 

 fore. 



Sunday morning broke clear. • The storm that, ever since 

 we left Provo, had hung around us had entirely disap- 

 peared and in gratitude we slept until 8:30. Our start 

 was made shortly after 10 o'clock, and remembering the 

 day we jogged along at a Sabbath gait, making camp at 

 3 o'clock on a slough between Junction and Circleville — 

 distance from Provo 171 miles. This was our first camp 

 that was located out of range of a farm house, and the 

 horses hardly knew how to act when they were hobbled 

 and turned out to pick for themselves. With the 6yds. of 

 mosquito netting that we brought for insect nets we 

 seined the slough and secured enough chubs for supper 

 and breakfast as well as two or three quarts of minnows 

 that were salted down for bait at Panguitch Lake. 



Monday, June 10. — Our early morning ride led through 

 Circle Valley, a rich farming country about six miles in 

 diameter. Here we had an hour's fine sport with jack 

 rabbits which were to be counted by dozens. A few young 

 and tender ones were reserved for dinner while the rest 

 were to be parboiled for dog meat. By the way, the young 

 dogs were standing the trip in the best manner possible. 

 Elsie would follow a gun all over. She was a natural re- 

 triever, and many a little warbler did she find that we 

 would otherwise have lost. Her brother, Rex, was some- 

 what lazy and gun shy. He made an excellent camp dog, 

 as he hated to wander. My saddle horse had become so 

 lame and tender-footed that we were obliged to lead 

 him, so I had to be content with sheep wagon or buck- 

 boards. 



At 11 o'clock we entered the gateway of Circle Cafion, 

 and for eight or ten miles we were hemmed in by low and 

 picturesque walls riding beside the river under the shade 

 of willows and birches. We had expected to find numer- 

 ous new plants and birds here, but we were disappointed. 

 Our noon was noted for the agility with which dinner 

 was cooked and at 1:30 we were under way. At 3 o'clock 

 we emerged from the canon into the beautiful valley of 

 the upper Sevier, a valley too cold for shade trees, but a 

 splendid grazing country. At 5 o'clock my horse, which 

 had been tied behind the sheep wagon, was discovered to 

 be missing and Collie went back on horseback to recover 

 the truant. He was so lame that he could scarcely walk 

 and I determined to leave him in the first good pasture. 

 During the delay of an hour our time was spent in shoot- 

 ing rabbits and prairie dogs. Of the latter we secured 

 two fine large specimens. At 7:30 we made camp just 

 south of Cleveland settlement by the banks of the Sevier 

 and in sight of Panguitch, which town we hailed with a 

 shout of delight, as here our genuine sport was to begin. 



We were up with the sun on the following morning, 

 and after a hasty breakfast all indulged in the luxury of 

 a shave. Overalls and shooting coats gave place to the 

 suits that had been brought for "best," and we were evi- 

 dently determined to make an impression. At 7 o'clock, 

 Doc, Andrew and I set out in the buckboard for Pan- 

 guitch, leaving the rest to follow at leisure. Two miles 

 from town we met an old pupil of mine, and it goes with- 

 out saying that our accommodations were at once insured. 

 By 11 o'clock all mail had been received and answered, 

 my horse had been turned out to pasture and the entire 

 outfit were enjoying themselves at Houston's home. I 

 was too near my ideal camp to rest contented, so I told the 

 boys to follow me up South Cafion after they had had 

 dinner, and I would go in advance and prepare a place for 

 them. I then took Collie's horse and Panguitch was soon 

 in the background. 



This 1 'screed" is long for an introduction. The nine days 

 and 210 miles of travel were somewhat monotonous to us, 

 and may prove so to the reader; but now that is past and 

 we are in the land of deer and only a few hours from a 

 trout supper. Henceforth we travel less and accomplish 

 more. Shoshone. 



A Long Island Deer Proclamation. 



Sheriff's Office, Riverhead, L. I., July 30, 1895.— Pub- 

 lic notice is hereby given that by Chapter 974 of the laws 

 of 1895, which refers to the counties of Kings, Queens and 

 Suffolk and to Long Island Sound, which became a law 

 on the 7th of June, 1895, it is enacted as follows: 



"Section 170. Shooting at, hunting with dogs or other- 

 wise, or killing deer is prohibited for the period of two 

 years from the passage of this act, and during a like period 

 of every alternate two years thereafter. During the open 

 seasons or intermediate periods of two years, deer shall 

 not be shot at, hunted with dogs or otherwise, or killed, 

 except from the tenth to the sixteenth day of November, 

 both inclusive. Whoever shall violate or attempt to vio- 

 late the provisions of this section shall be deemed guilty 

 of misdemeanor and in addition thereto shall be liable to 

 a penalty of one hundred dollars for each violation 

 thereof." 



It is also provided by the Penal Code, Section 15, that 

 upon the conviction for a misdemeanor for the unlawful 

 killing of deer, the guilty party is punishable by imprison- 

 ment in the penitentiary or county jail, for not more than 

 one year, or by a fine of not more than five hundred dol- 

 lars, or by both. 



Any person violating or attempting to violate the pro- 

 visions of the above act will be dealt with according to 

 law. Jno. Z. O'Brien, Sheriff of Suffolk County. 



The Forest and Stream is put to press each week on Tuesday. 

 Correspondence intended, for publication should reach us at the 

 latest by Monday, and as much earlier as practicable. 



