46 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aug. 11, 1887. 



RANGEOF SCORPION AND TARANTULA. 



THE scorpion and tarantula are inhabitants of hot cli- 

 mates, and the average temperature of a locality may 

 be supposed to limit their northern range. Both of these 

 animals are found in some numbers in southern Kansas, 

 but I have supposed that their occurrence much to the 

 north of this was extremely rare. Recently, however, 

 one or two facts have come to my knowledge which lead 

 me to think that both scorpions and tarantulas may occur 

 in the northern country more frequently than I had sup- 

 posed. In the summer of 1885, while in Billings, Mon- 

 tana, I saw a live scorpion, which had been captured 

 within two or three miles of that city. It was a young 

 one, only about an inch and a half long, but was very 

 vigorous and lively, using its tail viciously when touched 

 with a stick. It was of a pale horn color. I heard on 

 good authority of the capture of another near Miles City, 

 Montana. This would seem to give the scorpion a range 

 on the plains as far north as the Yellowstone River, 

 which is much further to the northward than I supposed 

 it reached. The capture of a supposed tarantula in 

 Shirley Basin, in Carbon county, Wyoming, is reported 

 to me by Mr. A. J. Matthews, a very mtelligent gentle- 

 man, for some time Principal of the Academy at Adams, 

 Jefferson county, New York. Mr. Matthews is not a 

 naturalist, but has frequently seen tarantulas preserved 

 in collections. He reports this huge hairy spider, which 

 ran out from under a log which he turned over, had a 

 spread of legs of about six inches, and to have corresponded 

 in all respects with the preserved tarantulas which he 

 has seen. Unfortunately the specimen, which he killed, 

 was not preserved. An intelligent and observant ranch- 

 man, Mr. W. H. Reed, reports having seen a very few 

 tarantulas in the mountains during a residence among 

 them of ten or twelve years. The Shirley Basin, on 

 whose western border Mr. Matthews killed Ibis spider, is 

 situated in the bend of the North Platte River, and is 

 about twenty miles south and fifteen miles east of that 

 stream. In the Montana and AVyoming localities men- 

 tioned the temperature falls very low in winter. In the 

 ShMey Basin the mercury often freezes. 



I should be very glad to hear from any of your readers 

 anything that may throw light on the question how far 

 north these two creatures are found in the Western 

 United States. Perhaps Dr. Shufeldt can help us on this 

 point, and there must be many of your Western readers 

 who have observed facts which* bear upon it. G. B. G. 

 Shirlet Basin, Wyo., July 30, 1887. 



ARTEMIS. 



WHAT happy inspiration prompted the follower of 

 entomological lore to think of the goddess of the 

 woods, the chaste Artemis of the Greeks, in dedicating 

 one of the most beautiful of butterflies, the insect queen 

 of mountainous Pennsylvania, to the memory of Diana? 

 Was it the conformity with the chaste hues of this hand- 

 some winged denizen of mountain forests, or was it its 

 ever-restless attitude which distinguishes it from the 

 various members of its tribe, which numbers among 

 them such old-time renowned personages as the Poly- 

 phemus, Danais, Atalanta, etc.? As a matter of fact we 

 find Artemis spread over a, vast extent of our northeast- 

 ern continent, from the southwestern highland of the 

 Virginia Alleghanies to the northern shores of the St. 

 Lawrence River and Gulf beyond, where I never saw the 

 sight of this beautiful butterfly in my wanderings for 

 trout. He becomes replaced toward the South gradually 

 by the handsome, but funereal y-robed congener which is 

 called Limenitis by the entomologists, and forms one of 

 the most common and conspicuous sights along the 

 course of the rhododendron-fringed rivers and brooks of 

 western North Carolina. But the northern butterfly sur- 

 passes her southern sister vastly on account of her beau- 

 tiful colors. The general ground tint of the wings is of 

 the deepest and almost b ack violet, but the upper ones 

 are conspicuously ornamented by two broad curved bands 

 of the purest white, which quickly attracts the eye by 

 the happy combination of coloring, and mark the insect 

 as the winged forest queen of our cold temperate zone. 

 They are by no means over-abundant in Pennsylvania, 

 and a week's collecting, if attended with, satisfactory suc- 

 cess, will hardly yield more than fifty, while here over 

 two hundred rewarded the expense of only two hours' 

 labor. 



I did not intend, however, on this memorable occasion 

 to make any collection of insects nor to devote my time 

 to their study, but a far different purpose had hastened 

 my steps for over 1,200 miles from far off home over sea 

 and land to my first resting place, the gravelly shores of 

 Mann River, a tributary of the famous Nouvelle, in the 

 eastern part of the Province of Quebec, and running into 

 the waters of the Baie des Chaleurs. What else could it 

 possibly be but the magnetism of its finny population, 

 which attains here to enormous sizes, averaging from a 

 minimum of three to seven pounds in weight ? They are 

 all of the variety known everywhere as sea trout, which 

 are anadromous by habit and therefore migratory, and 

 thus at times very numerous, while it often happens that 

 again they are entirely absent, as in the Nouvelle, where 

 one on the first view of its magnificent large and deep 

 pools would surmise an immense concourse of trout at any 

 time. 



Yet such is frequently the case, as I know best by my 

 own experience of last summer on the Nouvelle, when the 

 results consisted all told in four large four-pound trout, 

 and all this at a distance of thirty miles from the mouth 

 of the river. Probably thirty miles higher up it was black 

 with them, as they appeared to have ascended as far as 

 possible to the ideal terminal big pool for spawning pur- 

 poses. But it is not in the- e brief notes my intention to 

 describe what I saw this year in the way of sea trout, but 

 rather to relate my experience with the Artemis, which I 

 noticed along the Mann River in the most wonderful 

 abundance. 



Since entomological investigation had formed no part 

 of my present mapped-out programme in ascending the 

 river, the insect net had been left behind, never thinking 

 for a moment that the po derous landing net would have 

 to be called upon to hold within its stout meshes such 

 strange game as gauze-winged Artemis instead of ponder- 

 ous 5-pounders of sea trout. But such turned out to be 

 the case on the second day of my stay, when I noticed 

 the occurrence of these insects in such wonderful swarms 

 that I set about to secure a big lot, as I never could hope 

 again to obtain elsewhere so satisfactory returns for time 

 and labor invested. It had been the odor of the blood of 



some of the large trout we had taken, and which freely 

 bled on the gravelly beach, to which I have to ascribe 

 their large congregation in such small limits. Never, 

 even in equatorial America, where months were devoted 

 to collecting of butterflies, did I ever see such an enor- 

 mous assembly of beautiful insects, all massed in a space 

 of only about 50yds. wide and long. What a desecration 

 to the legitimate mission of the trout net to see now 

 within its meshes in more than one cast no less than 

 twenty-four of the Artemis wildly fluttering about and 

 powerless to break the firm and complex barriers of its 

 web. There were now, outside of those imprisoned within 

 the net, immense numbers flying around still, which 

 could safely be estimated by hundreds and fairly crowd- 

 ing into the spot which had been painted by the blood of 

 our finny victims. I shall never forget the sight which 

 met the delighted eye on this exquisite typical bit of 

 Northern scenery while rocking as in the cradle in the 

 birch canoe, with a river at my feet whose dark emerald 

 hues and waters are, even in the middle of July, as cold 

 as ice, while great mountain walls rise almost vertically 

 and abruptly from the foot of the foaming, roaring 

 stream until their summits, towering up to a height of 

 1,800ft., are kissed by the fleecy, billowy, cumulus clouds 

 floating high over the landscape, which they embellish by 

 their continuous alternations of bright sunlight into pass- 

 ing shadows. If we add to these atmospheric displays 

 the ornamentation by the vividly green spring foliage of 

 the deciduous trees and shrubs comingled with the 

 oceans of evergreen which cover every foot of the 

 mountain slopes and river shores, and the leaves of their 

 overhanging branches dotted, to crown the effect, with 

 hundreds of the brilliant gems of Artemis pictures, quietly 

 poised on their velvety surface and increasing the happy 

 contrast of color by their black and white wings, we have 

 a picture still engraved on my mind which will never 

 fade from memory. Chas. Linden. 



Recent Arrivals at Philadelphia Zoological Garden.— 

 Purchased— One short-tailed wallaby [Habnaturm hraehyurw), 

 one Derby's opossum (Diihhili iwderhian i/»),one vellow-biiled strath- 

 bill {(Munis alba), two white-fronted parrots (Chrii&otis Jeucoee- 

 phdlus), one augolan vulture (Gypohirra.v anyolrrisis) and live 

 scarlet ibis (Ibis rubra). Presented — One German linnet (Linaria 

 cannaMna), four box tortoises (Cistudo clausa), five land tortoises 

 (Testudo tabulala), two water suakes (Tropidtmotus sipedmi), one 

 banded rattlesna ke (prntahis honidw) and one green snake (Cyclo- 

 phis verualk). Born— Two American elk (Ccrcus canadensis) and 

 five musk rats {Fiber zibeUiicm). 



'mm mid 0mp 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Piib. Co, 



IN THE CHEROKEE STRIP.— VIII. 



TIME passed only too quickly for our short respite. 

 The great American arch-demon, Business, sent 

 down a warning note to the Cimarron that he was about 

 to claim his own. Mr. Streeter declared that he must go; 

 Mr. Kirkpatrick also was wanted at Kiowa. One more 

 day with the hounds, said we, and we will all go north 

 together. It was agreed. 



We took every available greyhound on the ranch, and 

 also the two foxhounds, and bright and early trotted off 

 toward the flats for a regular field day with the deer. 

 We had a string of dogs, about two miles long, more or 

 less, and there were good ones in the procession. The 

 puppies frolicked all over the country, while the veterans 

 kept close to the horses. The blue dog trotted for miles 

 with his nose between the hmd legs of Mr. Streeter's 

 horse, and Prince kept close alongside. Jim and Terry 

 staid by old John, the former dog limping painfully, and 

 the latter looking as if he had stuck his nose in a hornet's 

 nest. Close-leashed together. Buck and Drum, the two 

 foxhounds, ambled along behind, their long faces filled 

 with a magnificent gravity, as if the safety of the country 

 depended on them. We had an idea that we had found 

 a sort of runway of the deer, and intended to put in the 

 foxhounds and see if they would not bring the deer 

 around to us again. Old Mike was so lame that we had 

 to leave him at camp. All the dogs showed hard usage; 

 the frozen ground had made havoc with their feet. 



We rode out on the flats, about five miles beyond the 

 timbered sandhills, and about eight miles from home, 

 before we saw any deer, though the foxhounds would 

 have run on several trails if we had permitted it. All at 

 once Red, who had been a little in advance, bent down 

 in his saddle, wheeled his horse under cover of the hill, 

 and came back to us with a happy sort of smile on his 

 face which unmistabably meant deer. There were, he 

 said, four deer standing not 200yds. from us, just beyond 

 the hill. 



We could have easily killed a couple of the deer, at 

 least, with the rifles — Mr. Streeter, Ricker, Red and I all 

 having guns — but the opportunity for a chase seemed too 

 good. The foxhounds were, therefore, hurriedly secured, 

 the greyhounds bunched as well as possible, and we all 

 stooped in the saddle and rode with short breath up to the 

 crown of the hill. Four white fans were going, drifting 

 along, hip-hopping, hitting the ground once in a while, 

 about 250yds. ahead of us. And not a dog saw them! 



They say a greyhound has very quick sight. It may be 

 so. But I don't believe it. Of course, a dog has not so 

 extended a range of vision as a man on horseback; but 

 these deer were m full view on a hillside, and the grass 

 was short. I think a greyhound is not quick to change 

 the line of his vision. He is a line-runner. If he happens 

 to have anything in his line of sight, very good; but 

 much depends on the send off. There is but a moment 

 for the send off, and deer always start -just the Avay you 

 don't expect. 



There was, perhaps, a little conceded rivalry among 

 our dog owners that morning, and each man tried to get 

 Ms dogs in closer than the others. I have been told that 

 Mr. Allison has been known to have such pride in the 

 success of his dogs that he has turned them off a course 

 where they didn't have a dead sure thing for the best 

 send off. As that would savor too much of the turf ever 

 to please a lover of the field, and as it is, moreover, un- 

 necessary with such good dogs as Mi-. Allison unquestion 

 ably has, I surely prefer to think it a mistaken assertion. 

 It would be a justly exposable crime against sportsman- 

 ship, as well as against sport, to pull a good hound in a 

 good course, even if he were a mile behind. Let him run. 

 He likes it. It does him good. Mr. Allison's dogs are 

 not going to catch all the deer, any way he can fix it: nor 



Mr. Streeters, nor any other man's. There's too much 

 chance in it. Good rivalry is good; but reputation in the 

 field is got by being careless of reputation. I, for one, 

 would not follow a hound a foot in a deer course if I 

 thought there was anv of the smell of the turf about 

 him. 



Well now ! Where was I ? And where were the dogs? 

 They were mostly nowhere, apparently. Not one sighted! 

 And the very heart-strings in our bosoms stretched longer 

 and longer as those four white-tailed acrobats went away 

 further and further, in spite of our desperate wishes that 

 they would hold on, just a minute ! 



Thinking the deer would soon turn into the wind, I 

 pulled off to the right, and was soon quite alone. Slipping 

 the rifle out of the holster as I ran, I determined to cut 

 in behind the point of a big sandhill, and try for a flying 

 shot as they came by, trusting to Providence to be able 

 to get my horse again, which I knew wotdd run off as 

 soon as I dismounted. 



The deer did begin to turn. And almost at the same 

 moment I saw something long, and lithe, and yellow— a 

 very tawny thunderbolt of a dog — whizzing by me straight 

 for the deer. Sandy Jim, and sighted, by the Lord 

 Harry ! Lame ? That's all right. He might have been 

 lame in all four of his legs. He didn't need his legs, very 

 often. He only came down once in a while ! 



Viva ! Jim. Hoo-oy ! Jim. And Bugler, thou slab- 

 sided livery-horse, and son of a livery-horse, run now, or 

 I'll get off and run myself 1 And Bugler could run. And 

 he rose to the occasion. My lariat came down, I lost my 

 saddle blankets, my rifle was out of the holster ; but all 

 the same Bugler and I maintained our former social rela- 

 tions, and we saw as pretty a little run as most fellows 

 ever get to. 



I didn't mind losing the saddle blankets so much, and 

 I didn't care about the saddle's getting under the horse ; 

 but when Bugler got his hind legs through the front 

 cinch, I dismounted. I grabbed the end of the lariat, 

 and ran as far as I could toward the point of the sandhill, 

 near which I now was ; still having a good chance for a 

 shot, as the deer were turning fast to the right. Just 

 then Mr. Allison came thundering up behind me, and 

 passed on over the hill. This turned the deer, and I lost 

 my shot. The first tiling I knew, Jim was off the course, 

 and the deer all disappearing in the distance. But if I 

 can have that much fun, all by myself, I don't care 

 whether I catch a deer or not. Same with Bugler. 



I gathered up my goods and chattels, and was resuming 

 navigation just as Mr. Allison called out and pointed to 

 the left. There, streaming up a little slough, went a 

 second chase, well bunchel together, with all the other 

 men and dogs in it. A rush, and the quick closing in of 

 all the dogs, horses and men, told the story. Waving 

 hats and the faint hollo repeated it. Away we both went 

 to our successful brethren. 



It seems that this deer — which was a young buck — had 

 jumped up out of the grass about 100yds. ahead of the 

 main body of the dogs, just as they finally had got sighted 

 and were running the first bunch of deer. The clean- 

 built young buck had run nearly a mile and a half at a 

 terrific pace, well in sight and followed hard. The blue 

 dog was first to seize, and Terry was next, and half a 

 second later a whole wagon load of dogs. The blue dog 

 threw the deer, and it never got up at all. It was scared 

 nearly to death, and its despairing bleat, just as the 

 hounds closed in, was its signal of surrender to a foe 

 which gave no quarter. 



I say "the blue dog" caught the deer. Ricker said he 

 could see a blue dog close in and throw the deer. Mr. 

 Streeter thought it was his big blue Eagle Chief dog, and 

 Red thought it was the blue puppy of the 2 1. Quien 

 sabe ? But we all agreed that we got the deer. 



There was a little tree near where we now stood, and 

 in this we hung up the deer, though Ricker afterward 

 came back and slung it behind his saddle when we started 

 for home. This tree, which was the only landmark near, 

 was agreed upon as a sort of rendezvous. 



The foxhounds were now loosed upon the trail of the 

 deer Jim had been chasing, end they promptly ran clear 

 out of the country, and were last heard by Red and Mr. 

 Allison away to the south in the timber on the T5 range. 

 Red did not believe — and perhaps some sportsmen would 

 not believe — that these two foxhounds would ran away 

 from any horse on a trail, in less than three miles. But 

 that is just what they did and will always do. 



Mr. Streeter took his dogs and cast out for part of the 

 scattered bunch. Ricker and I started north for a bed 

 of willows where the deer nearly always ran through 

 when hard crowded by the dogs, and where they often 

 shook off the pursuit in the dense cover. 



I did not sec much more of my companions till I got 

 into camp. I had no comfort of my day's hunt after I 

 left Ricker, for my idiotic fool of a horse kept neighing 

 for his mate in such a way that still-hunting was impos- 

 sible; and in spite of all I could do I could not stop him. 

 Once I sighted three deer about a mile distant, in good 

 position for stalking, and having the wind, I made a long 

 detour and came up within four hundred yards of where 

 they were; but just as I had dismounted and was crawl- 

 ing up, with the end of the lariat in my hand, what must 

 that brazen-lunged, asinine imitation of a horse do but 

 let go a yell which would make, a steam calliope blush for 

 shame. Away went my deer. They thought Satan was 

 on the range; and this lineal descendant of his never un- 

 deceived them, for he kept up his demoniac chorus till I 

 knocked him over the head with the rifle barrel. Usually 

 I am of sweet and angelic disposition, but this was one of 

 the times I wasn't. Seriously, I would have shot that 

 horse then and there if he had been mine; but I knew the 

 liveryman, instead of being content with four dollars and 

 a half, the real value of the horse, would want at least 

 fifty or sixty, and find points o :' excellence I never would 

 have dreamed of. Talk about still-hunting, though! 

 Why, I'd rather go still-hunting with a brass band than 

 with that creature. A fellow could watch the drum 

 major and tell about when it was going off; but with 

 Bugler j ou couldn't. 



Ricker reported a trouble with his horse similar to mine, 

 and we were two disgusted hunters when we met near 

 camp early in the afternoon. 



Shortly after we got into camp, Mr. Allison and Red 

 came in with a few of the greyhounds. They reported 

 the foxhounds lost. No word from Mr. Streeter at all. 

 They also told us that they had hung up two more deer 

 in the little tree, their horses being so done up they could 

 not bring the deer in. They had had hard riding and 

 plenty of it, and had seen a number of deer. The blue 



