432 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 21, 1888. 



it should be loosened from time to time so as to admit of 

 a slight circulation through the affected part, and to per- 

 mit a small amount of the venom only to enter the sys- 

 tem, and the effect of this should he met by the adminis- 

 tration of the remedies already indicated. In the case of 

 a rapidly weakening heart, tincture digitalis in 15 drop 

 closes might be given every two hours, or, if at hand, a 

 few drops of nitrate of amyl might be inhaled. Every- 

 thing failing it might be worth while to attempt artificial 

 respiration, in the hope that if life could be prolonged, 

 the system might throw off the poison, as it has been 

 shown by the Indian Snake Commission that the action 

 of venom actually is delayed by this method. In one 

 case mentioned by Vincent Richards £ of a grain of cobra 

 venom was injected into a dog. "It took four hours and 

 ten minutes before the animal appeared to be dying, un- 

 til artificial resph*ation was resorted to. In four minutes 

 more in the absence of this system this animal's heart 

 wo Id have ceased to beat and somatic death been com- 

 pleted. But by its steady application life was extended 

 to forty-one hours and fifty -two minutes. In a desperate 

 case there should be no hesitation in trying the effect of 

 artifici 1 respiration. 



* Before leaving the subject of snake bites it seems proper 

 to allude to a matter which has of late received some little 

 attention, viz.. the preventive inoculation of serpent 

 venom to prevent danger from bites, and whflethe writer 

 does not commit himself to the theory he believes it may 

 be worth of serious consideration. As has already been 

 stated in this paper the Ann Arbor experiments showed 

 conclusively that after a time with repeated inoculation 

 of venom the animals experimented upon seemed to be 

 much less susceptible to its effect, and quite recently an 

 individual has been visiting the principal cities claiming 

 an immunity from snake bite, o i account of an inocula- 

 tion performed on him by some South American Indians, 

 and offering to have the matter tested upon a large dog, 

 which had also been inoculated. It has been stated that 

 in Philadelphia these experiments were successful. 

 Tschudi informs us that some of the South American 

 Indians are said to acquire an immunity from snake bite, 

 having been previously inoculated, but the process has to 

 be repeated from time' to time. In this connection the 

 following extract is given from "The Veterinarian," 

 Loud., 1887, LX., 565, as it seems to bear the impress of 

 truthfulness. "Three of the oxen were bitten by snakes. 

 One of the bushmen undertook to cure them, and taking 

 a knife made one or two slight incisions round the place 

 where the bite was, which was easily seen by swelling, 

 and rubbed in a powder which he said was made from 

 the dried poison sacs of another snake. In a few hours 

 the poison had entirely subsided and the cattle were as 

 well as their half starved state would allow them to be. 

 I expressed some doubt whether this cure would be 

 efficacious in the case of the more deadly kind of snake, 

 but the bushman assured me that it would, and that he 

 was not afraid of being bitten by any snake in this 

 country so long as ho had the poison sac of another snake 

 to use as an antidote. 



"The very next day I had an opportunity of putting him 

 to the test. While walking ahead of the wagon I saw a 

 full-grown capell or spunghe slange lying under a 

 bank, and calling the bushman said, 'Catch that snake 

 alive. You are afraid of it, are you ?' 'No, boss,' he 

 replied, 'I am not afraid, and will catch it for a roll of 

 tobacco.' Not wishing to be accessory to his death, I 

 refused to bribe him, and went to get the driving whip to 

 kill the snake with. I had scarcely returned when he 

 gave it a kick with his naked foot, and the horrible rep- 

 tile bit him. Coolly taking out some dried poison sacs 

 he reduced them to powder, pricked his feet near the 

 puncture with his knife, and rubbed the virus powder in 

 just as he had done with the cattle. In the meantime I 

 had put a stop to the snake biting any more by a blow 

 from the whip stock, and the bushman extracted the 

 fangs, drank a drop of poison from the virus sac, and 

 soon fell into a stupor, which lasted some hours. At first 

 the swelling increased rapidly, but after a time it began 

 to subside, andnext morning he inoculated himself again. 

 That night the swelling disappeared, and in four days he 

 was as well as ever." 



In conclusion it may be mentioned that this record of 

 experimental inquiry is not intended as an exhaustive 

 treatise, for as opportunity occurs other experiments will 

 be tried with such supposed remedies for snake bite as may 

 be offered, and the results will be duly published. In 

 conducting the experiments the writer has been influenced 

 by the motives only of adding to the sum of human 

 knowledge and alleviating human misery, and if he has 

 succeeded in this he will be amply repaid for the labor 

 and dangers incident to the research. His thanks are 

 offered to several porsons who have aided him, more 

 especially to his industrious and energetic assistant Mr. 

 E. B. Rheem and to Capt. Bendire, U. S. A. It is proper 

 to add that the greater part of the expenses of the investi- 

 gation have been borne by the National Museum. 



and all seemed to take a good deal of interest in what I 

 was doing and what I had a fire for. Finally they ap- 

 proached quite near, and taking some crackers from my 

 pocket I broke them in pieces and tossed them to the 

 birds, and they at once scramblod down to where the 

 dainty morsels were and proceeded to walk off with them. 

 I then put some pieces on top of a stump beside me, and 

 it was not long before they alighted within two or three 

 feet of where I was sitting, seemingly not in the least 

 afraid, and picked up pieces of cracker. They continued 

 doing this until finally they became so bold that they 

 would take the pieces from between my fingers, and one, 

 more courageous than the others, seemed to be quite 

 vexed because I pinched the cracker and would not let it 

 get it at once, and twisted his head and pulled at it three 

 or four times as you have seen chickens do when you 

 held something tightly between your fingers for them to 

 take. I was very much interested in their actions and 

 anxious to know what kind they were. Later I found 

 that they were the gray jays. — W\ B. Mershon. 



A "Woolly Crocodile."— Editor Foi-est and Stream: 

 I see it reported that "a curious creature was brought to 

 San Francisco by a ship which arrived there the other 

 day. It has some characteristics of the crocodile, but is 

 covered with a coat of short bristles or hair, which giv.es 

 it a most peculiar appearance. It has been domesticated 

 to a certain extent and will permit the captain or any of 

 the crew to approach it and receive their caresses with 

 evident pleasure, but if a stranger approaches, it distends 

 its big jaws and shows fight. The crew call it a 'woolly 

 crocodile.' It is active and weighs about forty pounds." 

 I think you will ag ee with me that this is "important if 

 true," in its bearing on the theory of evolution; for if the 

 "woolly crocodile" actually exists, and is possessed of the 

 characteristics here described, it is in truth a "missing 

 link."— C. F. Amery. 



The Birds' Return.— Charlestown, N. H., May 27.— 

 I note your remarks on "The Bird Hosts" in last number, 

 and can add the result of my observations to confirm the 

 opinion that our native birds are decidedly more numerous 

 this year than for some years past. The spring of 1886 

 was the first but one for many years that I have spent in 

 in a country village, and I was then struck by the absence 

 of my old familiar friends. Last year, 1887, there were 

 more, and several orioles, of which I only saw one in '86, 

 built their nests in my immediate neighborhood. This 

 year, although a few days later, there are decidedly more 

 of them, and 1 have seen the scarlet tanager and the 

 indigo bird again, and in my rambles along the trout 

 brooks, or in search of flowers, have been greeted by 

 hosts of brown thrushes, bobolinks and red-winged black- 

 birds, while one village street is thronged with flocks of 

 the little gold finch or yellow bird, as the boys call them. 

 Now, as the English sparrow has not infested this entire 

 neighborhood very much yet, I am inclined to attribute 

 this marked increase to some extent to the good work of 

 the Audubon Society. — Von W. 



Familiarity of the Gray Jay.— Editor Forest and 

 Stream: I was very much interested in Mr. Grinnell's 

 description in the article on the "Autumn Birds of the 

 St. Mary's Lake Region," relative to the habits of the 

 gray jays. Some years ago while deer shootingin northern 

 Michigan I was seated on a runway back in the woods 

 waiting for something to turn up, and had kindled a little 

 fire to warm my stiffening fingers, when I noticed a flock 

 of birds of a kind unknown to me at that time, in the sur- 

 rounding trees. They were chock-full of curiosity and 

 impudence, and seemed to be chattering at me; and every 

 little while one would hop on some twig a little nearer, 



Sparrows and Song Birds. — Philadelphia, May 14.— 

 Some twenty years ago I had a nice home in the country, 

 where our happiness was increased by the companionship 

 of wrens, orioles and bluebirds. Business compelled me 

 to move into the city. After years of labor I have been 

 enabled to escape the hot streets, sewer gas and other 

 offensive odors and to return to my lovely old home in 

 the country, with its grass, shade and fruit trees. My 

 walk over the grounds was saddened by the positive ab- 

 sence of the little songsters that made its former posses- 

 sion so bright and cheerful, and I am told that their 

 absence dated from the advent of the English sparrow. 

 I write now for advice. I want my wrens, bluebirds and 

 orioles, and care nothing for the sparrow. If I kill the 

 quarrelsome pests do you think I can coax the little war- 

 blers to come on the ground where sparrows are forbidden? 

 My .22 Ballard will soon rid me of these English emigrants 

 if such riddance will bring back my little friends.— G. N. 



j§ag mid 



IN THE MATTER OF BUFFALO. 



LAST May I clad myself lightly in a photograph outfit 

 and an editorial pass and started out to Garden 

 City, Kansas, to visit my old friend C. J. Jones and his 

 herd of tame buffalo. I had helped catch some of these 

 buffalo two years before, or at least had stood around 

 and watched the other fellows catch them, so I felt a 

 sort of two-ply interest in the outfit. 



The familiar gray landscape of the upper Arkansas 

 country swam by the Pullman window, and I lay and 

 let it swim till the porter, who should have called me 

 half an hour before, poked hi3 head through the curtains 

 at 8 o'clock and hurriedly called out, "Boss, get up, quick, 

 we're pulling into Garden City now!" That porter missed 

 my quarter, but received my blessing, as I gathered my 

 vestments, my photograph outfit and my editorial pass 

 all in my arms together and stepped lightly and grace- 

 fully into the depot building to complete my toilet. I 

 dressed in the simplest and swiftest manner within my 

 power, thanked my admiring audience for their kind 

 attention and went up to Ben Phillip's Buffalo Hotel for 

 a good breakfast. 



It began to rain after breakfast and it was therefore 

 impossible to go out to the herd, which was some four 

 miles down the river, with any prospect of successful 

 results at photographing. I found Mr. Jones at his 

 office, up to his eyes in some political scheme or other. I 

 believe he was laying for the honor of being a delegate 

 to the Republican convention at Chicago in June. Mr. 

 Jones divides his time between politics, a big irrigation 

 ditch, the glorious climate of Kansas and buffalo catch- 

 ing. He is a rustler in all these pursuits, but I believe 

 he rather has a leaning to the latter. 



The moment lie saw me, Mr. Jones insisted I should 

 stay over and start next week with him for the Pan- 

 handle, on a hunt which, should be positively the last 

 appearance of the North American bison on the stage of 

 history or of sporting journalism. He explained that 

 he already had the teams and running horses down on 

 the range, with half a dozen men, and that word was up 

 that the boys had found the herd, which numbered forty- 

 two head all told. Mr. Jones again affirmed his ability 

 to rope and throw a full grown buffalo (at which I again 

 laughed) and further expressed his determination not to 

 be contented with a few paltry calves, but to bodily round 

 up, wear out, tame down and drive in the whole exist- 

 ing band of buffalo then on the range. There was "go" 

 enough in this idea to fairly set me wild; but at the 

 expense of all my effort, I was forced to confess that I 

 could not possibly get off to join the expedition. I knew 

 very well what I was missing, for I had been out with 

 Mr. Jones before on one of these wild hunts. 



The rain abating somewhat, we started down to the 

 herd. At the distance of a mile, we could see the black 

 humps of the buffalo strung out in line among the herd 

 of cattle with which they are kept. A half -wild old 

 herdsman, covered with a tattered blanket, was urging 

 his pony about the herd, and gradually working them up 

 toward the corral, away from the river. Twice before, 



some of the buffalo had crossed the Arkansas, and led the 

 herder a pretty chase. 



As we drew near, it was easy to see that the buffalo 

 were no longer wild buffalo, but quite thoroughly 

 domesticated. It was almost impossible tosexoarate them 

 from the cattle, and they seemed not to care much for 

 the approach of the mounted herder. They would let 

 him ride up close, then dodge around him and cut back 

 into the bunch again. They frequently passed within a 

 dozen yards of us, as we stood by the wire fence. I 

 recognized one two-year old as he passed, carefully 

 avoiding the barbs of the fence. I remembered the hot 

 run at sun-up when we caught him, down on the plains 

 forty miles from water; and I remembered how the herd 

 of big buffalo ran directly over and through a strong wire 

 fence that morning, and scattered it as if it were built of 

 straw. 



There were yearlings, two-year-olds and three-year- 

 olds in the lot, thirty-nine in ail, I believe. Mr. Jones 

 had purchased one large young cow in Colorado, and I 

 think also one from the Cimarron country; he had also 

 sold three two-year -olds to Pawnee Bill's Wild West show. 

 I saw these three specimens at Wichita. They were the 

 poorest of the lot, one of them being a spindling, big- 

 headed brute. Those left on the Jones ranch appeared 

 to be in very good condition. I recognized the big heifer, 

 Paladora. She was smooth as a seal. 



I made several flying shots with the drop shutter at 

 members of the herd as they passed, but feared the light 

 was too dim to get a good negative on an instantaneous 

 exposure, as the clouds had now again entirely overcast 

 the sky; moreover, I wished a view of the herd as a whole, 

 if possible; we accordingly undertook to drive the buffalo 

 into the small corral near the cabin, where wo oould 

 inclose them and approach closely. As the herder cut 

 them out from the cattle, Mr Reeves (Mr. Jones's brother- 

 in-law; Mr. Jones himself could not come out Avith us) 

 and I directed them through the little gate. As I stood 

 with the camera near by, and nothing but a little switch 

 in my hand, the buffalo passed within ten feet of me. 

 They cei'tainly looked very large, some of them, and quite 

 capable of making away with one; but beyond a wild 

 look from under their shaggy frontlets, they seemed dis- 

 posed to keep the peace. In a short time we had them 

 nicely inclosed, and walked up to the fence to look them 

 over. What a strange sight it was! Here, on the native 

 ground of the buffalo, but ground long since swept clean 

 of them by the skin-hunter, we had a band of buffalo 

 rounded up; we had a "stand" on them; they were not a 

 dozen feet from us. And they were genuine buffalo, 

 shag-headed, mournful-eyed and grim. No doubt of it. 

 I tickled one with the switch. It kicked, shook its head, 

 and ran off a few steps, much like a domestic calf. Half 

 a dozen of the herd were large, nearly full grown. From 

 this they ranged down to curly little rascals which would 

 make the sourest cynic laugh in spite of himself. 



A number of negatives were taken from different points 

 of view, the buffalo being very_ patient under the process, 

 and not even taking much fright at the flapping of the 

 camera cloth. The animals were usually from twenty to 

 fifty feet away from the instrument. The herder went 

 into the corral and drove them about, so that often they 

 passed so close one could almost have touched them with 

 his hand through the fence. 



A drizzling rain had by this time set in, so that it was 

 very difficult to operate the camera. We adjourned un- 

 til after dinner, and then came out with a larger instru- 

 ment, which belonged to Mr. Jones. We had again to 

 drive up the buffalo, and by the time this was done the 

 blackening clouds were just on the point of saturation. 

 I had just gotten a group arranged to my liking and was 

 adjusting the focus of the instrument when the heavens 

 opened and a sheet of rain came driving across the sand 

 hills in a way which might have pleased William Black, 

 but which didn't please us at all under the circumstances. 

 The rains in that country are often very heavy. This was 

 one of the worst. The earth narrowed to a circle of 

 steaming mist as the cloud swept over us. It was impos- 

 sible to tell anything about the focus. I tried to protect 

 the lens as best I might, and as the buffalo stood there 

 staring dumbly at me, I ran through plate after plate in 

 the blinding rain, and only started in when the wet began 

 to swell the slides, and I realized that perhaps I was ruin- 

 ing another man's instrument. 



As I turned to go the rain fairly redoubled, and shut 

 in the little corral in a veritable fog. Out of this frame 

 of mist, gray and twisting, showed the silent, patient, 

 motionless front of the group of buffalo, standing face 

 toward me, wondering, dumb. Their brown backs 

 loomed up high over their lowered heady. Their big, 

 melancholy eyes stared out mornfully, asking that old 

 question which looks out always from a buffalo's eyes, of 

 " What next, Mother Nature?" I came away and left 

 them standing there in the rain, patient, motionless. 

 Soon I was whirling away east again, back to work. 



The buffalo have, been with the herd of cattle since 

 their captivity, and Mr. Jones has looked forward to this 

 spring with great interest as a time which would deter- 

 mine some of his notions as to cross breeding. At the 

 time of my trip nothing could yet be known, though it 

 was expected cross-bred calves would be dropped both by 

 domestic and buffalo cows. I shall be glad to report upon 

 this phase of the interesting question of buffalo raising 

 as soon as I can hear definitely. Mr. Reeves, who was 

 well posted upon the history of the herd, was of the 

 opinion that Mr. Jones made a mistake in allowing to run 

 with the herd a black Galloway bull, whose known fight- 

 ing propensities may have ariven off the male buffalo, 

 which were younger and not so strosg. 



When Mr. Jones started down on the hunt he took with 

 him a number of carrier pigeons, which were subsequently 

 used in sending up reports to Garden City, a distance of 

 two or three hundred miles. By the last report, sent 

 from Mount Blanco, Texas, I learn that the party have 

 gotten among the buffalo, and have caught several calves. 

 From the camp on the Canadian, exploring parties were 

 sent out in all directions. I have no definite knowledge, 

 but presume that Lee Howard's old camp -is the rendez- 

 vous, and that Lee himself is helping Mr. Jones on the 

 hunt. Last year he did so, and in pay for this Mr. Jones 

 gave him the game Kentucky running mare Jennie, who 

 did such noble work on the hunt which I accompanied. 

 The buffalo are reported now to be broken up into small 

 bunches. Mr. Jones had given up the idea of roping and 

 hobbling the full grown buffalo, as after being chased 

 they show themselves ferocious and unmanagable. An 

 adult buffalo is nearly as strong as a steam engine. On 



