64 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb. 16, 1888. 



course or none at all might as well be taken. The scraggy 

 clumps of button bushes were now green islands in the 

 marsh and populous with gay and noisy communities of 

 redwings. The western shore bristling with naked 

 branches when he last had seen it, now was softly 

 rounded with all the luxuriant leafage June could give 

 it, and the old camp was just discernible embowered in 

 leaves and shadows. A narrow boat-path leading to it 

 and a clumsy log canoe drawn ashore there showed that 

 the landing was yet in use. 



Pelatiah was'set on shore further up stream on the east 

 bank at an open place to which he guided Sam, inform- 

 ing him that it was known as the "John Clark place" 

 and was a famous resort for bullpout fishing in May. 

 Here it was agreed that Sam should meet him next 

 morning, if the hoped-for day's leave of absence were 

 obtained, and then he went his way and was soon heard 

 ' ' whaying" the cows home. 



On his return voyage, Sam ran in at the landing, from 

 which he noticed that a well-trodden path led away into 

 the woods. Though the place showed disuse and wore 

 the changes wrought by the season, the greenness and 

 bloom of early summer where so lately had been the 

 brown and naked gray of early spring, there was much 

 to remind him of the pleasant weeks he had spent there. 

 There were whitened piles of muskrat bones, picked clean 

 by many a big and little scavenger of the woods, cast- 

 away stretchers and tally sticks, scales and mummied 

 heads of fish, and Antoine's old fish poles. There were 

 sticks of left-over firewood close by the ashes and brands 

 of the last camp-fire. The shanty kept its form, though 

 the slabs were losing the fresh hue of newly rifted wood. 

 The bedding of straw had grown musty and was pierced 

 with pale sprouts of such unthreshed kernels of grain as 

 its latest tenantry of wood mice had spared. 



While Sam sat smoking a meditative pipe, his old 

 acquaintance, the squirrel, became aware of his presence 

 and gave him a characteristic welcome, snickering and 

 jeering and making such an ado that his wife and chil- 

 dren came to learn the cause of it. 



"Haint ye 'shamed to be sassin' your betters afore your 

 young uns?" Sam addressed the bright-eyed native, "but 

 I d'know 's I be your better, an' I'm glad to see ye fur all 

 your sass." 



Approaching footsteps drew nis attention, and presently 

 an old man came shuffling along the path bearing on his 

 shoulder a long unwieldy contrivance of basket work. 

 He was unmistakably Canadian, an older but less sophist- 

 icated Antoine, who still wore the baggy homespun 

 woollen trousers, red belt and russet leather moccasins of 

 his native land. When Sam accosted him, his startled 

 halt was so sudden that he nearly dropped the long 

 basket and uttered a prolonged and very emphatic 

 "Saacre!" but, catching sight of him, seemed to consider 

 the accident a good joke. 



"Ah! Ha, ha, ha! you mek scare M'sieur! Bon jour, 

 bon jour, M'sieur. You poot good, aujourd'hui, M'sieur! 

 Parlez-vous Francais, M'sieur? Non? Ha, ha, ha! me no 

 parlez Anglais ver' good. Me come Canada las' printemps. 

 Coupai le bois pour M'sieur Bartlette. Choppai de hwood. 

 Onsten? Ha, ha, ha ! Gat petit maison la, leet' haouse,'' 

 pointing backward along the path and then beating his 

 breast rapidly, "Jean Bisette, me. Me, ma femme, all 

 'lone 'lone. Got garcon, boy, come here long tarn, me 

 can' fan, me sorry, oh! sorry, sorry. You no see it, 

 prob'ly, M'sieur?" 



"What} 7 — you — cally — you gassaw's name?" Sam asked 

 in a tone so loud that he was confident his French must 

 be understood. 



"Hein? Oh! Oui, oui, oui! Son nom est Antoine, An- 

 toine Bisette. You no see it, M'sieur?" he asked anxiously. 



"I'll bate a cooky 'at aour Antwine's his lx>y," Sam 

 said to himself, "but 'f I tol' him so an' it turned aout 

 he want it 'Id be awful disappintin' tu the ol' cretin'!" 

 Then shaking his head, added aloud. "No, do' know 's I 

 ever did. 'F I du I'll let ye know! What on airth be 

 you agoin' tu git in secha dum'd basket as that?" 



Evidently his question was not comprehended, and he 

 hastened to make it plainer with louder voice and sim- 

 pler phrase, "Whaty for dat baskeet?" which at last the 

 old man understood and explained that his long basket 

 was a fish trap. 



Then he pushed off in his canoe and busied himself 

 with setting it in a gap at the point made by two thickly 

 set rows of stakes running obliquely across t stream, and 

 Sam went his way homeward. 



Night was falling. The channel was strangely widened 

 in the uncertain light, its marshy borders far away, vague 

 and mysterious among the brooding shadows of the 

 wooded shores, and the reflection of the first eastern star 

 danced along his wake before he reached the landing. 



Rowland E. Robinson. 



Ferrisbttrgh, Vermont. 



Killing Rare Birds. — Here it is again! Another man 

 killing rare birds because he has not seen them before, 

 or doesn't happen to have them in his collection. I refer 

 to the account of the evening grosbeak in Forest and 

 Stream. Of what use is this? Wilson and Audubon 

 and Coues can tell all about American birds. There is 

 nothing added to science by these men who go about 

 with shotguns reducing the number of rare and beautiful 

 birds as fast as they are able. There never should have 

 been clauses in the game laws exempting so-called 

 naturalists. It is a premium on slaughter for selfish pur- 

 poses. It seems to me that the would-be naturalist who 

 takes more pleasure in shooting and mounting a rare 

 specimen than he would in viewing it in all its grace and 

 freedom, as the Creator intended it, lacks something- 

 commendable, particularly in these days when the 

 feathered world is being so rapidly and cruelly decimated. 

 Audubon Societies are found all over the land, and their 

 good offices nullified by licensed slaughterers. This 

 license is abominable and should be repealed. Here is an 

 opening for the "Audubons." If there is any possible 

 good in this naturalistic craze, it is by no means com- 

 mensurate with the evil it entails. Repeal the law, — O. 

 O. S. 



Winter Residents at Albany, N. Y.— Feb. 13.— Since 

 the coming of cold weather till the present date the fol- 

 lowing birds, which may be considered winter residents, 

 have been observed : Crows, ruffed grouse, white-bellied 

 nuthatches, chickadees, various sparrows, black snow- 

 birds, hairy and downy woodpeckers, bluejays, and a 

 chicken hawk; also several individuals and flocks which, 

 owing to their altitude, could not be identified.— Nature. 



CANADIAN BIRDS* 



IN presenting to the world his catalogue of Canadian 

 birds, Mr. Chamberlain has performed a service 

 which entitles him to the gratitude of all ornithologists. 

 No one of our Canadian ornithologists is more competent 

 than Mr. Chamberlain to undertake the labor of compiling 

 such a list. His familiarity with the literature of Cana- 

 dian birds, and his wide acquaintance with American 

 ornithologists generally, especially qualify him for the 

 task. 



This catalogue is referred to in his preface as prelimin- 

 ary to a fuller and more extended work on the birds of 

 the Dominion, and while it is not so stated, we infer from 

 the author's remarks that the purpose of the present list 

 is to stimulate research and to encourage investigation, 

 rather than to greatly add to our present knowledge of 

 the birds treated. The work is a very creditable one, 

 and will be found a great convenience to students of 

 North American birds. It covers about 550 species and 

 gives, so far as possible, their geographical distribution; 

 but in the notes on this subject the lack of extended ob- 

 servation within the Dominion of Canada is everywhere 

 apparent. For its style and typographical beauty the 

 book deserves high praise. We note one or two trifling 

 printer's errors, which will probably annoy the author 

 far more than they will any one else'. Such are the be- 

 ginning the generic name of Gallinago gallinago, on 

 p. 37, with a lower-case italic letter. We do not know 

 whether the Wm. Cowper mentioned on p. 1 is the Wm. 

 Couper so frequently spoken of here and there through- 

 out the work. Tannager is — to Americans at least — an 

 unusual form of spelling of the word. 



The present catalogue is, as we have said, a useful con- 

 tribution to American bird literature, but we imagine 

 that Mr. Chamberlain's work of compiling it cannot have 

 been very satisfactory. No mechanic can make a ma- 

 chine without tools to work with, nor can any ornitholo- 

 gist, no matter how able, well informed, painstaking and 

 industrious he may be. give the distribution of certain 

 species of birds in vast regions which have never been 

 traversed by an observer. 



In truth, this list is more important for what is left out 

 of it than for anything which it contains. It emphasizes 

 more sharply than could be done in any other way, the 

 very slight attention that has been paid to ornithology by 

 a government which has shown so high an appreciation 

 of the importance of other natural sciences, such as 

 botany and geology. JNo one, we are convinced, appre- 

 ciates as thoroughly as does the compiler of the present 

 work the unfortunate neglect of ornithology by the Gov- 

 ernment Survey of Canada, and in his preface to the list 

 he calls attention to the fact that in Canada the science 

 of ornithology has not made the advance that it has in 

 other countries, and quotes letters of eminent Americans 

 which bear him out in this conclusion. Mr. Chamber- 

 lain's catalogue, however, tells its own story, and his 

 notes, although he has availed himself of all the material 

 — whether public or private — to which he had access, are 

 often very meagre so far as they relate to the geographi- 

 cal distribution of the species referred to. 



Mr. Chamberlain has done the best he could with the 

 material obtainable, and until more interest shall be felt 

 in this study by the Canadian Government, and more 

 energy shown by Canadian ornithologists, the publica- 

 tion of the completed and more elaborate list, of which 

 this is but the forerunner, must be postponed. In the 

 Maritime Provinces and in Ontario much good orni- 

 thological work has been done. Manitoba has been repre- 

 sented by a trained observer, Mr. Thompson, while Mr. 

 Fannin's observations in British Columbia are very valu- 

 able; but any one who has traveled in Canada, especially 

 in the western portions of the Dominion, will agree with 

 Mr. Chamberlain when he says that "the greater portion 

 of the country — immense stretches of forest and prairie 

 and seacoast — have received little attention from Orni- 

 thologists, while even the more settled districts have not 

 yet been fully investigated, leaving a large amount of 

 field work still to be done before anything like a com- 

 plete account of the Birds of Canada can be produced." 



It may be earnestly hoped that the ornithologists of 

 Canada will agitate this subject until their government 

 shall come to see the importance of making provision on 

 their Survey for a study of Canadian birds. The fore- 

 most ornithologists of this country will certainly do all in 

 their power to assist in bringing about any change which 

 will lead to a more complete knowledge of North Ameri- 

 can birds. 



The present list is well done, and if it shall stimulate 

 the ornithologists of Canada to greater activity, and shall 

 arouse the authorities to a sense of the importance of 

 making some provision for further investigation in this 

 department of science, its author will have accomplished 

 a most useful— yes— a great work. 



*A Catalogue | of | Canadian Birds, | with | Notes on the Dis- 

 tribution of the Species. I By | Montague Chamberlain. | I 



Saint John, N. B. | J. & A. McMillan, OS Prince William street. | 

 1887. 



Winter Kingfishers, — Constantine, Mich., Feb. 10. — 

 Having read of Mr. Lawrence's kingfisher, of New York, 

 in Forest and Stream of Jan. 26, I think Michigan can 

 go 15 degrees ahead. We have two (Ceryle alcyon) win- 

 tering here with us on the St. Jo River. I noticed one of 

 them flitting up stream yesterday morning, the mercury 

 standing at 15 degrees below zero, and saw one of them 

 sitting on a tree on the bank, piping his shrill notes for 

 his companion, with the mercury at 10 below zero, and 

 waiting for his morning meal of minnows of which there 

 are plenty, as our river seldom freezes. I would like to 

 know if the kingfisher winters any further north. — A. B. 

 George. 



The Deer's Liver.— Sherbrooke, Quebec. — In your 

 issue of Jan. 26 a correspondent asks if the liver of deer 

 is good for food, and stating that Adirondack guides do 

 not eat it. If your correspondent will examine the next 

 deer he kills he will fail to find any gall bladder; but he 

 will notice that the liver is impregnated with a bitter 

 substance, which I presume takes the place of the gall in 

 the internal arrangements. I do not think the liver, 

 properly cooked, is injurious; I have eaten it, but there 

 are choicer morsels. A. joke is sometimes perpetrated 

 upon "tenderfeet," setting them to look for the gall and 

 telling them it is good for rheumatism.— E. C. H. 



wnt j§tig nnA %m\. 



Address all cornmxmimUom to the forest and Stream Pub. Co, 



Antelope and Deer of America. By J. D. Caton. 

 Price $2.50. Wing and Glass Ball Shooting with the 

 Rifle. By W. C. Bliss. Price 50 cents. Rifle, Rod and 

 Gun in California. By T. S. Van Dyke. Price $1.50. 

 Shore Birds. Price 15 cents. Woodcraft. By "Ness- 

 muk." Price $1. Trajectories of Hunting Rifles. Price 

 50 cents. The Still-Hunter. By T. S. Van Dyke. Price $2. 



SHOT. 



/~1URSE tbe fool's infernal shootingl 

 ^ Wonder what he tried to hit? 

 Perhaps he thought you were a rabbit; 

 He'd make money as a wit. 



Yes, old fellow, you are dying. 



That 7 shot at such a range, 

 When you got it in the forehead, 



Did the business isn't strange. 



Come, my beauty, cease your whining. 



Whoa there, steady, mind the trail; 

 Death's the bird you've flushed, that's certain, 



What, my pet, you wag your tail? 



Pity that he couldn't spare you, 



When for ten long years I've shot 

 O'er your head— you've seldom failed me, 



Now you share our victims' lot. 



Dead, yes, and your tongue will never 



Lick my hand— nor bark will sound. 

 Do we part for aye, or shall we 



Meet in Happy Hunting Ground? M. Nicoll, Jr. 



AFTER MISSISSIPPI DUCKS.-I. 



YICKSBURG, Miss., Jan. 31.— Editor Forest and 

 Stream: What are the conditions for a successful 

 duck hunt? Well, they are several. In the first place 

 you want your business affairs in good shape. If you get 

 but among the birds and little matters concerning busi- 

 ness keep occurring to your mind, you will not find the 

 fullest and freest enjoyment. You want your rent paid 

 and the bill boys all pacified, and complete arrangements 

 made for the smooth transaction of your affairs during 

 your absence. And then again if you are a married man 

 with a family you want the approval of your movements 

 by the domestic circle. Especially does this apply to 

 your better half. You ought to manage in some way to 

 get your wife to urge you to go. In tlris respect my com- 

 panion in duck hunting stands in an enviable position. 

 He leads an indoor life mainly, and has one of the finest 

 looks of sickliness on him one covdd wish for. His wife 

 at times gets anxious and nervous about him. She thinks 

 exercise is what he needs, and that it should be ta,ken in 

 the open air. She pats him on the shoulder and says: 

 ' My husband, you are not looking well, you must get out 

 of that store, you need a change. You want exercise. 

 Your mind needs rest. You are breathing too much 

 dust, and worrying too much over those accounts. You 

 must go off on a hunt; those trips help you more than 

 anything; do go." That is the kind of talk to put an edge 

 on a genuine sportsman and settle the domestic part of 

 the question. 



Next comes in the weather. Some people persist in 

 going duck hunting in pleasant weather, but they don't 

 get any genuine sport to speak of. They hunt on 'warm, 

 sunshiny days in the middle of the day. My friend Geo. 

 H. is an ardent sportsman and fond of the field. His 

 strong point is on quail, and if you will put him behind a 

 good dog he will tumble them over in fine style. Time 

 and again he has thought he would have a good duck 

 shoot. But when the weather turns cold, the wind blows 

 and it rains, and he is asked to go, he is prolific in ex- 

 cuses. No one to stand in his store, no shells loaded, a 

 certain piece of paper to meet; why didn't I let him know 

 sooner? Just as if I were a prophet and could foretell the 

 weather days in advance. The truth of the matter is he 

 does not like cold, rain and wind to duck-hunt in. He 

 wants bright and balmy days. Well, let him continue 

 after quail, for ducks do not circulate extensively in his 

 kind of weather. Another gentleman hunts ducks in the 

 middle of the day. That will do sometimes, and some- 

 times it won't. Ducks are in the habit of going to their 

 feeding grounds early in the morning and returning to 

 their roost quite late at night. Ordinarily more ducks 

 will be bagged during the first and last hours of the day 

 than during all the intervening time. Long before they 

 can be seen in the morning is the whistle of their wings 

 heard as they pass swiftly flock after flock overhead; 

 and it is indeed late at night when the last belated flock 

 has settled to roost. To say they will come in away after 

 dark does not misrepresent them in the least. A success- 

 ful hunter will be over his decoys at the first streak of 

 day, and will be there again as long as there is a glim- 

 mer of light in the west. 



Not very long ago a gentleman, who aspires to be a 

 duck hunter, went to considerable trouble and some 

 expense for a hunt. A vehicle was hired and decoys 

 procured. For company he took along a nice young man 

 who is susceptible to the comforts of life. They went 

 some ten or twelve miles to a famous ducking ground. 

 They got there and arranged for lodging and breakfast. 

 But the next morning, I believe it was a "smothered" 

 chicken that detained the gentlemen, they arrived at the 

 ground a little too late for the morning flight, and during 

 the day returned home without game. Now if a man 

 wants to eat smothered chicken for breakfast on a duck 

 bunt he should have a double-extra early cook. Another 

 day this same aspirant was discovered leaving the duck- 

 ing locality an hour before sunset. When asked what 

 luck, he replied there were no ducks. Near this same 

 locality a fellow-sportsman and myself fastened our last 

 decoy just as the sun went down. Not a duck had been 

 seen up to that time; but we had been there before and 

 had learned a trick those ducks had of being a little be- 

 hind time. Our skiff was pushed into the willows where 

 we sat and kept a sharp watch over the decoys. We 

 rowed home that evening with nine fat butterballs, 



Where the ducks go or what becomes of them, on warm 

 sunshing days, no one seems to know. On dark, cold, 



