24 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Feb. 2, 1888. 



harn headgear and tire your jaws carrying imitation 

 briarwoods when your colony produces better articles." 

 In a short time I noticed that corncob pipes were the 

 "proper tiling,*' but python puggarys were not common, 

 because the owner of the only factory used its entire 

 product for his own adornment. 



IV. 



While in Natal I frequently visited the wattle and 

 daub structure, called a house, of a friend who, like 

 myself, was somewhat daft on natural history. We 

 were sitting one night smoking in the dark, as the 

 mosquitoes w ere pressing and the lamp had been extin- 

 guished, when his cat sprang on the table alongside of 

 me and began to spit. The lamp was relighted and puss 

 was discovered with her back arched and every hair 

 standing on end. Thinking that something outside had 

 frightened her we went out and searched unsuccessfully. 

 Coming back inside and finding her still in the same 

 attitude our search was continued indoors, and on look- 

 ing behind the open door a large python was found, 

 which had evidently ventured in the house in order to 

 make a meal of pussy. A blanket was thrown over him 

 and a hand passed along its surface until his head was 

 felt, when he was clasped around the neck, lifted up and 

 dropped into a sack. 



v. 



One rather cold disagreeable day, while crossing a 

 corner of the parade groimd, Cape Town, I noticed a 

 small tent, in front of which was displayed a rougldy 

 painted sign, "'Big Snake an young Uns." As this was 

 something in my line I concluded to investigate, and pay- 

 ing 3d. to a frowsy woman at the door, stepped inside, 

 where I found on exhibition a large female Natal python, 

 badly cankered, and three or four young ones, confined in 

 a second-hand counter case. A uian, clad in a well-frayed 

 fustian suit, immediately commenced, in Cockney dialect, 

 a description of the wonderful curiosity to the audience, 

 which consisted solely of myself. After he had finished, 

 I mildly suggested the propriety of the substitution of live 

 rabbits or chickens in the place of some chunks of beef 

 which had been evidently placed in the case for food. 

 "You're 'nuther of them blarsted knowin" blokes. Where'd 

 yer git yer snake larnin' anyhow ?'" he blunted out. Taken 

 aback at his show of temper I got out as soon as possible, 

 and looking over my shoulder while turning a convenient 

 corner saw the indignant showman glowering at me 

 from the door of his tent. On inquiry I found out that 

 he was a Whitechapel scissors grinder, who had pur- 

 chased the snake from a trading vessel, and had been 

 terrible badgered by a lot of practical jokers. The next 

 day, while passing, he accosted me and roughly asked my 

 pardon, remarking "the missus" said that I was a stran- 

 ger and did not belong to his gang of tormentors. At his 

 solicitation I went into the tent, and after showing him 

 how badly the snake was diseased, sorrowfully predicted 

 its death in a short time. He seemed much concerned, 

 and told me that he intended to visit Stellenbosh, the 

 Paarl and Wellington, three small towns on the railroad 

 leading out of Cape Town. I counseled an immediate 

 departure, warning him to hurry and make short stays, 

 or the snake would not survive until the end of the pro- 

 posed trip. 



A few days subsequently business called me to "The 

 Paarl" (The Pearl), and on going from the railway station 

 to the hotel, I passed the snake show, the proprietor of 

 which told me that "business wos 'elthy." The next 

 morning, when leaving the hotel, I was informed that 

 "the blarsted thing 'ad croaked and I'm done out Velling- 

 ton, my best pitch." I answered, "Pack up and get to 

 Wellington as soon as possible. The weather is cool and 

 you can show the dead snake for a living one for a day 

 or two, until the smell will betray you. Coil it in the 

 case, and no one will suspect the trick, much less attempt 

 to stir it up." With a quizzical leer he replied, "Mum, 

 I'm fly," and off he started.. 



Some years elapsed, and once, after a hard day's work 

 delving for gems on the Diamond Fields, I was standing 

 in front of Cobb & Co.'s American coach office, awaiting 

 the arrival of the stage, and the receipt of the late Fort 

 Elizabeth papers, brought in the driver's pocket, when I 

 noticed a donkey cart, accompanied by a man and woman 

 coming up road. Getting opposite, I recognized the 

 scissors grinder and hailed him. Stopping the donkey, 

 he crossed the road, peered into my dust-begrimed face, 

 turned around and yelled out, "Missus, come here! I'm 

 beggared if it arn't the bloomin' Yankee cove, as wot put 

 us up to the snake dodge," adding sotto voce, "Let's have 

 a tot, I kin stand it, as I faked a clear three pun ten out 

 the job." We adjourned to a neighboring canteen and 

 had some "bitter," in which "the Missus" joined, and 

 during the remainder of my stay on the Fields, all my 

 little sharpening jobs were done free of cost. 



VI. 



One of my sources of getting pythons was from the 

 boys in my neighborhood, who breed rabbits. Their 

 breeding hutches were usually empty ale cases. In nail- 

 ing on the slats in front, the lads would thoughtlessly 

 leave sufficient space for pythons to squeeze in and swal- 

 low the rabbit, but when it attempted to get out, its in- 

 creased bulk would not allow its so doing. At ©ne time 

 it was a common occurrence for them to bring me the 

 hutch containing the python, and the undigested rabbits 

 also, but eventually they substituted wire netting for the 

 slats and my python trade dropped off accordingly. I 

 was once requested by a policeman to hurry with him to 

 his house and catch a python, which had nearly fright- 

 ened his wife out of her senses. She had gone into the 

 yard, lifted the lid off the water cask and found it nearly 

 filled with snake, instead of water. Almost all the water 

 in Durban obtained from wells is brackish, consequently 

 iron tanks and brick cisterns are largely used for rain- 

 water. Those whose means will not allow such expensive 

 apparatus use empty ale casks, stood on end, the interior 

 of which has been well charred, and one can easily im- 

 agine the terror of an unsuspecting woman, bent on get- 

 ting water and finding snake as a substitute, 

 t, VH, 



Having related how easily pythons are sometimes 

 trapped without any intention of so doing, I would ask 

 if any one would suppose that a trap could be constructed 

 that would be successful in catching snakes? I must con- 

 fess that I never gave the matter a thought until I actu- 

 ally saw a verification of the fact. While wandering 

 about in Java I told the Malays in my party that I wished 

 to procure some live pythons, and one day I was informed 



by one of them that he had discovered the home of one 

 and the next day he would attempt to catch it. On going 

 with him, he pointed out a hole in a bank:, at the mouth 

 of which he had previously sprinkled some sand, the 

 marks in which evidently proved that the snake had 

 passed out and returned during the night. With his large 

 knife, carried sword fashion at his side, he cut down sev- 

 eral bamboos, which were split into laths, and with some 

 rattan he soon constructed a long basket-like trap, in one 

 end of which was placed the door. This was hinged at 

 the bottom, and when the trap was set lay along on the 

 floor, but when the trigger, which was at* the other end, 

 was sprang, flew up, and being longer than the height of 

 the trap, made an angle of 45°; so that any pressure 

 from the inside served to keep it firmly in place. I stood 

 by, an interested spectator, until he had finished his pre- 

 parations, which were completed by lashing the trap 

 down to some pegs, bending down a bamboo to serve as 

 a sweep and loosely covering the whole arrangement 

 with some palm leaves. As the trap was placed some 

 three feet from the hole, I wished to know why he did 

 not place it directly at the mouth, so that the snake 

 would be forced to go into it in trying to get but. He 

 replied, "Snakes are very timid and at the same time 

 very prying things. If the trap were placed as y ou sug- 

 gest it would never attempt to pass out; but being a short 

 distance off. his suspicions will not be excited and he 

 will go into it, thinking, perhaps, it is the hiding place 

 of a rat or something else that will serve for his supper. 

 When he gets to the further end and finds nothing he 

 will turn back, and in so doing will catch the trigger, 

 the door will fly up and pinch his tail against the roof, 

 and he will draw it in, when I'll have him." His answer 

 showed such a complete knowledge of the nature and 

 habits of the animal that it surprised nie, and we returned 

 to camp without any more f oolish questions on my part. 

 He was right, for the next morning "he had him," and 

 the trap with the door lashed fast served to convey 

 "him" until I reached my depot some weeks afterward, 

 vm. 



There is certainly a marked difference in the disposi- 

 tions of pythons. Some soon become tame, while others 

 will always bite on the slightest provocation. By care- 

 fully studying the bias of each one, as it fell under my 

 care, I was generally able to open the case, in which they 

 were confined, and attend to them without getting a bite, 

 although at times an ill-natured one would give me a nip. 

 Whenever I was working about them, there was sure to 

 be a knot of interested Kaffirs as spectators, and their 

 universal verdict would be that witchcraft had something 

 to do with it. There is one singular peculiarity about all 

 the large snakes. Of all the heavy dead weights I ever 

 attempted to lift, they certainly exceed anything else. 

 There is something so unexpected about it, that one is apt 

 to conclude, like the Kaffirs, that some diablerie is mixed 

 with it. 



The knowledge of this singular fact once tempted me, 

 to my sorrow, into playing a trick on my native help. 

 My pythons were kept in a long case, with glazed sides 

 and a wne-netting top, over which fitted a wooden lid. 

 During bright weather the case was usually placed out of 

 doors and the lid removed, in order that the snakes could 

 enjoy a sun bath. So soon as the sun got low and the 

 temperature lowered, the pythons would all coil together 

 in one end of the box; and one afternoon instead of get- 

 ting the assistance of my keepers in removing it into the 

 house, I called a couple of Kaffirs to help me. The lid 

 being on, they could not see that they were placed at the 

 end occupied by the snakes. "Wau!" they grunted, 

 "N'kos is as strong as an ox. He walks along as if he 

 were carrying a pot of native beer, and our backs are 

 almost broken." Down dropped their end, and the glass 

 crashed, and instantly the heads of the pythons shot out, 

 causing a sudden flight of the Kaffirs, and but for the 

 timely assistance of my keepers, some of them would 

 have escaped. Frank J. Thompson. 



[TO BE CONTINUED,] 



THE HOWL OF THE WOLF. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



The long howl of the wolf has been a great marvel to 

 your correspondent since he first heard it. The marvel is, 

 what is the meaning of it, or what feeling it expresses? 

 In other words, what makes the wolf howl? 



When heard at any distance save very near, say a few 

 feet or a few yards, one can detect in its sounds nothing 

 but the profoundest spirit of melancholy. There is no 

 other sound in nature which can compare with it in the 

 expression of abject and hopeless misery. I have likened 

 it to the wail of a lost spirit as it crosses the portals of 

 the infernal regions, seeing behind it green fields from 

 which it has forever departed, and before it a hopeless 

 and eternal hell. It also seems to convey a deep sense of 

 loneliness, as if the wolf had lost his last friend on earth 

 and felt himself to be the solitary wanderer of the globe; 

 all other creatures being dead. I have listened to this 

 peculiar phase of the long howl till a sense of my own 

 loneliness became most painfully oppresive. 



Some say that the wolf howls so dolefully because he is 

 hungry; others, because he is indeed very lonesome, and 

 uses this melancholy voice to draw his friends around 

 him. Both these, therefore, hold that it is really an un- 

 happy feeling that inspires the long howl. But I have 

 observed enough to convince me that it is by no means 

 hunger that always or even generally calls forth this 

 howd, if indeed it ever does; for I have heard the wolf 

 howl never so piteously or with his soul so much in the 

 work, when the region around was strewn with the bleed- 

 ing carcasses of slaughtered bison, from which he had 

 no doubt stuffed his belly. Also, I have frequently heard 

 them howl in concert, and sometimes in packs; though it 

 is true that the wolf when alone most frequently projects 

 the long howl. But whether in company or alone, the 

 sound thereof is of equal melancholy and loneliness. 

 Some say his howl is inspired by love of his female mate, 

 and that his sole motive is to charm her ear with a sound 

 that is very sweet to her; in other words, that he is sing- 

 ing to her a melody to cheer her heart and fill her with 

 love and admiration of himself. There may be some- 

 thing in this; but the marvel is that any creature should 

 be inspired to love by such music. However, it does in- 

 deed appear that the wonderful bray of the ass is put 

 forth with no other motive but to please, his females; and 

 it also appears that they are quite charmed therewith. 

 So, as to what constitutes good music, ears may differ as 

 greatly as tastes differ in appetite. 



But may it not be that it is indeed a true and deep sense 

 of melancholy and loneliness that inspires this howl? May 

 not the wolf have a strange, unsatisfied desire, like that 

 of the moth for the star; and that he is melancholy be- 

 cause the object of his desire remains distant and un- 

 friendly? He sees it and longs for it, but dares not 

 approach it. He waits for the gulf that separates him 

 from his desire to diminish and fade away; but he sees 

 years and ages pass, and the gulf is still there, profound, 

 dangerous, impassable. What wonder that his heart 

 grows sick as lie contemplates this cruel gulf, and that he 

 breaks forth in howls that cannot be equalled in melan- 

 choly by any other sound ever heard on earth ; perhaps 

 matched only in hell ! 



Verily I believe that this is all so, and that man and 

 his friendship is the star for which this poor moth pines. 

 And why not? The wolf is but a dog and has a dog's 

 heart. He is the fountain from which the clog came, with 

 all those qualities which made him the companion and 

 friend of man. That fountain is still rich in those quali- 

 ties, as we shall see later on; and they well up in it 

 whether the fountain will or no. The clog must have 

 man to love and to be loved by him; and if he has not he 

 is the most lost and wretche'd of all beings. Who has not 

 seen a dog lost from his master? He howls piteously, be- 

 comes wild with grief, will fawningly seek the friendship 

 of any one who will speak to him a kind word, and he 

 will soon lie down and die with grief if he finds not his 

 lost master or a new one in his place. And this dog is 

 but a wolf, with the wolf's heart. 



I have often noted the peculiar manner and expression 

 of the wolf when he and man happen to come upon one 

 another in their travels. The wolf will not run straight 

 from you; indeed, he will not run at all unless you force 

 him to do so; but he will cross your path a little distance 

 in front of you, and go circling around you in a dog trot, 

 having his eyes all the time intently fixed upon you. 

 Seeing them thus, I have sometimes cast my glass upon 

 them, so as to catch the expression of their eyes and 

 countenance; and they seemed to me as if they were say- 

 ing in their hearts—" Oh, glorious man, would that you 

 woidd take me to you and let me love you; but you will 

 not!" Poor wolf! to love a star that is forever unap- 

 proachable is indeed a hard fate. 



I have said that when the wolf's long howl is heard 

 within a few feet or yards, another sound besides that of 

 melancholy and loneliness is sometimes readily distin- 

 guishable. When a boy it befel me to pass three nights 

 alone in a lonely cabin, in a dark mountain valley, many 

 miles away from any human residence; for that countrv 

 was then a wilderness given up to wild beasts and savage 

 Indians. My cabin was greatly beset by wolves, and as 

 sleep was hardly possible,"! had little to do but to study 

 this strange melody. They would often howl so near my 

 ear that I could distinctly feel the tremulations in the 

 atmosphere caused by their voices. Then I observed that 

 in many of the howls there was a very deep-mouthed and 

 wide-mouthed ferocity, as if the creature would tear 

 something to pieces and revel in innocent blood. It was 

 a sound as of terrible strength combined with an utterly 

 savage and remorseless nature. 



In the next chapter, should there be another, I will 

 speak of the wolf in his social and domestic relations, and 

 as tamed by man. N, A. T. 



AbiTjENE, Texas, Jan. 7. 



THE HARDY SNIPE. 



WE are permitted by Major H. W. Merrill to print 

 from a private letter a few extracts bearing on 

 the power of the English snipe to resist cold. The letter 

 is from Colonel W. D. Pickett, who is perhaps best known 

 to our readers as the most successful of American bear 

 hunters. His record, we believe, is about eighty bears, 

 almost all of them grizzlies, and all killed in fair fight. 

 Colonel Pickett does not trap bears. In his letter, which 

 is dated Mee-Tee-Tse, Wyoming, Jan. 7, he says: 



We are just passing through an almost unprecedentedly 

 cold snap. In three days past the minimum temperature 

 each 24 hours has been 38£% 38°, and this morning 86^° 

 below zero. At this present writing it is 30° below at ii 

 o'clock P. M. To-day was beautiful and sunshiny and I 

 hope the temperature will considerably moderate in a day 

 or two. 



I had a quiet Christmas and was old-fashioned enough 

 to have the bowl of egg-nog, and you were remembered 

 among other friends. 



You doubtless recollect my writing about the few jack- 

 snipe wintering in my meadow last whiter. I had sup- 

 posed they had been caught by the early closing down of 

 winter. To my surprise, however, after winter had set 

 in, in November, a pair of them were again seen in the 

 same locality, and they are still here. I saw them to-day. 

 We have had a severer winter than last winter with more 

 sunshine and less snow. The springs where they feed 

 are more open and flusher, and consequently the snipe 

 have had a better chance. In October, November and 

 December, there have been cold snaps with minima of 

 from 20 ,J to 29^° below zero, and thus far in January a cold 

 snap, such as is above mentioned, from 86-T to 38^° below 

 zero. Each day of this cold snap I have gone out to visit 

 them and inquire after their welfare. They do not, how- 

 ever, appreciate my solicitude, for they flush usually 

 before I get within fifty yards of them. 



That they winter once in this "bracing" atmosphere 

 might be in consequence of being caught by the early 

 grip of the ice king; but that they should elect to spend 

 a second winter here is most extraordinary. Why I be- 

 lieve they are the same snipe, is that they appear to have 

 the " run " of the premises. They know exactly where to 

 alight, when flushed. They have the discretion not to 

 stay too long in flight. As one rose from the spring 

 branch to-day I placed a thermometer in the water, and 

 found its temperature 44°. The spring itself had a tem- 

 perature of 47°. Another spring near had a temperature 

 of 49°, pretty warm springs for the season. 



The spring from which I use, nearer the ranche, was 

 4H . I notice these snipe very wisely use mostly in the 

 two first-mentioned springs. 



To-day I hear of a half-dozen specimens of the genus 

 homo having then noses or hands or ears or toes badly 

 frozen within a few days past. I will guarantee these 

 specimens of ScoIojmx wilsonvi are sound in every par- 

 ticular. They know when they are well off. They know 

 where the warm water is to be found and they stay just 

 around that spot. No idiotic tomfooleries for them. 



W. D. Pickett. 



