82 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Aug. 25, 1887. 



SPENCER F. BAIRD. 



AFTER an illness of many weeks Prof. Spencer F. 

 Baird, Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution and 

 United States Commissioner of Fish and Fisheries, died at 

 Wood's Holl. Mass., last Friday, Aug. 19. He had gone 

 to Wood's Holl in June, much broken down iu health and 

 Bpirits, but there had subsequently been such improve- 

 ment that his recovery was hoped for, and his death when 

 it did come was sudden and unexpected. 



Spencer Fullerton Baird was born in Reading, Pa., Feb. 

 3, 1823. He was of mixed Scotch, English and German 

 descent; and the name Spencer came from an ancestor, a 



{)reacher whose war sermons were so powerful in Revo- 

 utionary times that the British Government put a price 

 on the sturdy patriot's head. At an early age the boy 

 displayed those tastes for natural history which were to- 

 direct the course of his life and in after years make him 

 distinguished among his contemporaries. When four- 

 teen years old, with his brother William, he began a 

 collection of the birds of Cumberland county, Pa., and 

 the materials then brought together afterward formed 

 the nucleus of the Smithsonian collection of birds. The 

 brothers contributed notes to the Philadelphia Academy 

 of Sciences, and so, his love of ornithology becoming 

 known, young Baird found a warm friend in Audubon , 

 with whom he exchanged specimens and to whom he 

 contributed materials for the great naturalist's works. 

 Graduating from Dickinson College in 1840 at the age of 

 17, he entered upon the study of medicine in New York, 

 but interrupted his course, and in 1845 accepted the chair 

 of Natural History, and later that of Chemistiy, in Dick- 

 inson College. Here he found abundant opportunity for 

 pursuing the studies most congenial; and it was his habit 

 to make long pedestrian tours in quest of specimens and 

 in investigations of animal life. While at Dickinson he 

 became associated with Agassiz, and the two projected a 

 work of joint authorship on the fresh-water fishes of the 

 United States; this, however, was never completed. 



In -1850, Prof. Baird was elected Assistant Secretary to 

 the Smithsonian Institution, and in this new field he very 

 soon gave exhibition of those rare powers o : observation 

 and high administrative capacity which marked his 

 life work at Washington. He instituted methods of 

 work in the Smithsonian which are still followed there ; 

 it was largely owing to his influence that the study of 

 special branches of natural history were intrusted to 

 individuals in the employ of the Government. On the 

 death of Prof. Henry he succeeded to the Secretaryship. 



In 1871, Congress having provided for a United States 

 Commission of Fish and Fisheries, President Grant placed 

 Prof. Baird at the head of it. To this position he brought 

 ripened powers, and assuming the tremendous responsi- 

 bilites which carried with them no added compensation, 

 for the office was an unsalaried one, he devoted himself 

 with unselfish enthusiasm, organized a corps of assistants, 

 and set about one of the greatest economic undertakings 

 known to history, with what success is well known. The 

 work of the United States in investigating the causes of 

 the depletion of food fishes and in restocking the waters 

 was inspired and directed by Prof. Baird. 



His printed contributions to science were numerous 

 and valuable. A chronological catalogue of his works, 

 prepared by order of the Smithsonian Institution and 

 only carried down to 1882, includes 1,063 titles. In 1849 

 he had translated and edited the text for the "Icono- 

 graphic Encyclopedia," the English version of "Heck's 

 Bilder Atlas." Between 1850 and 1874 he published sev- 

 eral works upon North American natural history, and 

 from 1870 to 1878 he was scientific editor of Harper Bros.' 

 periodicals, besides being the author of their yearly cyclo- 

 pedia of science. A partial list of his writings during 

 these years would include: "Catalogue of North Ameri- 

 can Reptiles," by Baird and Girard (1853); the "Pacific 

 Railroad Report on Mammals" (1857), in which were con- 

 tained accounts of seventy species of mammals additional 

 to the lists of Audubon and Bachman; the* "Birds of 

 North America" (1858), the "Review of North American 

 Birds" (1864-66), the "Geographical Distribution of North 

 American Birds" (1865), the "History of North American 

 Birds," in connection with Brewer and Ridgway (1874). 



As a scientist Prof. Baird enjoyed world-wide fame; 

 his services and attainments were recognized and re- 

 warded by medals and other testimonials. He received 

 the degree of Doctor of Physical Science from Dickinson 

 College, and that of Doctor of Laws from Columbian 

 University. In 1878 he was awarded the silver medal of 

 the Acclimatization Society, of Melbourne; in 1879, the 

 gold medal of the Societe d' Acclimation of France, and 

 in 1880 the Erster Ehrenpreis of the Internationa' e Fisch- 

 erei Ausstellung, at Berlin, the gift of the Emperor of 

 Germany. In 1875 he received from the King of Norway 

 and Sweden the decoration of Knight of the Royal Nor- 

 wegian Order of Olaf. He was a member of the leading 

 scientific associations of England, Austria, France, Ger- 

 many, Holland, Portugal and New Zealand. Over thirty- I 

 three distinct genera and species in North, South and 1 



Central America and the West Indies have been named in 

 his honor. He was one of the early members of the National 

 Academy of Sciences; served two years as permanent sec- 

 retary of the American Association; was one of the trus- 

 tees of the Corcoran Art Gallery; was a trustee of Colum- 

 bian University; a president of the Cosmos Club, of 

 Washington, and was the director and official head 

 of the National Museum. 



A published description of Prof. Baird's workshop in 

 Washington tells us: "You will find it in the basement, 

 and truly it is a busy place. There is not much furniture 

 in the room, but it is all in use by the busy occupants. 

 Here are a couple of clerks and a stenographer, and scat- 

 tered around about, yet in the most perfect order, are 

 boobs and maps and drawings and castings and models of 

 every description. The professor is a great worker, and 

 he utilizes every moment of the day. He arises at 7 and 

 by 8 o'clock he has had his breakfast and is at his desk. 

 For five hours every morning he keeps the stenographer 

 busy attending to correspondence and writing out reports, 

 instructions, letters and scientific articles. This part of 

 his work can be done by no one else. By 1 o'clock he has 

 finished, and, leaving his stenographer to prepare the 

 papers for his signature, he leaves the residence for the 

 institute. Here for two or three hours he receives callers 

 and attends to the routine work of his office. He is also 

 the head of the Fish Commission, and he gives that an 

 hour or two each day. But this and many other things 

 with which he is connected do not come properly within 

 the province of this article. Prof. Baird is essentially a 

 worker. When one has written of his work, nothing re- 

 mains to be told. His habits are simple. He retires at 

 11 o'clock and arises at an early hour. He never goes to 

 a lecture or to the theatre, and the dinners and receptions 

 he attends during the season can be counted on the 

 fingers of one hand. He gives it out in confidence that 

 the first reason why he doesn't go out is that he knows 

 he will go to sleep, and the second is that he doesn't want 

 to, but prefers staying at home with his books. What 

 does he do with his leisure time? Well, he has precious 

 little of that delightful commodity, and what little he has 

 is spent in reading novels (strange to relate) of the blood 

 and thunder order." 



The following description will convey an idea of the 

 surroundings amid which he labored, with a graphic 

 portraiture of the man: "The house in which the scientist 

 lives is not a very elegant one, but it is situated in a very 

 fashionable locality. Standing on the little porch, wait- 

 ing for our knock to be answered, we can see the resi- 

 dences of Secretary Bayard, which is only a few doors 

 below, of Senators Morrill, Allison and Payne, and of 

 Justice Miller. It is one of the most desirable neighbor- 

 hoods of the capital, and within a circuit of a quarter of 

 a mile can be found the residences of hundreds of public 

 men. The house is of brick, three stories and a basement 

 high, with a bay window of good dimensions running up 

 the front. There is also a mansard roof, and a large ane- 

 mometer help to make the house noticeable. The visitor 

 is ushered into a prettily furnished parlor at the left. 

 From this vantage he can have a good view of the rooms 

 of the house on this floor, as they are all connected by 

 folding doors. The prospect is not great or rich, but it is 

 a model interior for a man in comfortable circumstances 

 and of refined tastes. The parlor is furnished with 

 modern furniture, and there are scores of etchings and 

 paintings and photographs on the walls. On the stands 

 are rare little articles of bric-a-brac gathered here and 

 there and everywhere in pedestrian tours over the 

 country and in continental travel. Next to the parlor is 

 the library, and it is very much like the former room, 

 except for the bookcases reaching to the ceiling. The 

 books are, for the most part, of a literary character, 

 though here and there a ponderous work looks out at us 

 from between the dainty volumes in blue and gold. * * * 



"We take cognizance of these surroundings while wait- 

 ing for Prof. Baird, and now his rather ponderous tread 

 is heard upon the stairs. He enters the library with 

 hand extended out to you, and a welcome smile from his 

 intellectual face and bright, penetrating eyes. Over 6ft. 

 high, broad shoulders, heavy set and altogether massive, 

 he is not, by any means, an ordinary appearing man. 

 Yet, few people you meet on the street could tell you 

 who he is. Very likely they would not be asked, for he 

 is not a man who would cause remark on account of his 

 personal appearance. He is careless in his dress, and 

 skulks about the capital with his gray suit and slouch 

 hat, looking more like a Vhginian farmer than one of 

 the foremost of American scientists. He rarely notices 

 his surroundings, and will pass his most intimate friends 

 on the street without a sign of recognition. His thoughts 

 are no doubt far away during these moments of pre-occu- 

 pation. He is perhaps thinking of some new scientific 

 discovery, or a discovery is in process of formation in his 

 ever active brain. But he is not always absent-minded, 

 for in his social and business intercourse he is one of the 

 most agreeable of gentlemen, and his conversation is 

 singularly fascinating." 



The following tribute to Prof. Baird's worth is by Prof » 

 J. W. Powell, the director of the Geological Survey : 

 "I have known Prof. Baird for the last eighteen years ; 

 he was like a brother to me. There has been nothing of 

 importance that I have undertaken in that I have not 

 first consulted with Prof. Baird. He was the greatest 

 man I ever knew. He knew more than any man I have 

 come in contact with. He knew every subject with 

 which he had to do thoroughly. He mastered all the 

 details. His pre-eminent quality was perhaps Ms ability 

 as an organizer. It was given to him to accomplish what 

 few men are capable of in a lifetime, the organization 

 of two great institutions— the National Museum and the 

 United States Fish Commission. Prof. Baird was a man 

 of great practical sense. He could see the outcome of 

 matters and had a broad comprehension of the relative 

 importance of details. He was an unselfish man ; his 

 personal interests were lost sight of in the interest of 

 the institutions under his care. He expended public 

 money with the careful scrutiny that most men give to 

 their private affairs. His entire unselfishness and devo- 

 tion to his work, as well as his practical sense, was 

 appreciated by the committees of Congress when he 

 appeared before them to explain the needs for the money 

 asked for. Prof. Baird was a great scientist, and it is a 

 singular fortune that the Smithsonian has had in succes- 

 sion two such eminent men as Henry and. B. I d." 



Prof. S. P. Langley will probably succeed to the Sec- 

 retaryship of the Smithsonian, and Mr. G. Brown Goode 

 to the Cornmissionership of Fisheries. 



ORIGIN OF THE MEDICINE LODGE. 



THERE are certain western Indian tribes who have an 

 annual religious ceremony cal ed by frontiersmen 

 the Sun Dance or Medicine Lodge. None of these tribes 

 have been more faithful in the performance of this sacred 

 duty than the Blackfeet. Some, indeed, have given up 

 the practice since the disappearance of the buffalo: and 

 it is very likely that the Blackfeet will never build an- 

 other one. 



According to Blackfeet tradition, the origin of thai 

 Medicine Lodge was as follows: 



In the beginning there was no war. All the tribes 

 were at peace. Now of the people was one, a very rich 

 man, and he had three wives and a daughter. This girl 

 was the most beautiful young woman in the whole camp. 

 She had been asked for by several young men, but had 

 refused to marry any of them. As time passed many 

 who were rich and handsome sought her for a wife, but 

 she always replied, "No, I will never marry." 



Then her father said: "Why this, why take no man?" 



"Why," she replied, "should I take a husband? I have 

 a rich father and mother, our lodge is good, the par- 

 fleches are never empty, there are many robes and tanned 

 skins, plenty of soft fur for winter. Why, then, should I 

 marry?" Then her father spoke not. 



The Raven packers held a dance; they all dressed care- 

 fully and wore their ornaments; and many asked for this 

 young girl, and again she said r o. Then the Bulls, the* 

 Foxes, and others of the E-kun-uh'-kah-tse, held their 

 dances, and all those who were richest, handsome and 

 brave asked this man for his daughter, but none suc- 

 ceeded. Then was her father angry and he said: "Why 

 now this way? You have your choice; all ths best men 

 have asked for you, and still you say no. Now I do be- 

 lieve you have a secret lover." 



"Ah!" said her mother. "What shame for us should a 

 child be born and our daughter still unmairied." 



"Father," said the girl, "pity! I have no secret lover. 

 But nov^ the truth. That Above Person* told me, 'Marry 

 not, for you are mine; thus shall you be happy and live to 

 great age, and again he said: 'Take heed, marry not, for 

 you are mine."' 



"Ah," said her father, "against his words no man may 

 speak." And they talked no more about it. 



There was a poor young man, very poor. His father 

 and mother were dead, and all his relatives too. They 

 also had departed to the Sandhills.! No lodge was his. No 

 wife to tan his robes or sew his moccasins. Entered he 

 a lodge here to eat and sleep, and to-morrow he went to ' 

 another; thus he lived; but there were those of kind, 

 heart, and when they saw his poverty they gave him a. 

 robe or leggins, or moccasins, thus was he clothed. Said' 

 those rich young men, "Why now not ask her who has 1 

 refused us to marry you?" and they laughed. "Ah," said 

 he, "as you say, I will go and ask her," and he went down 

 by the river. By the water he waited and she came along. 

 "Girl," he said, "wait, I have words for you. Not as a 

 designing person do I ask you, but openly where the sun 

 looks down and all may see." 



"Speak then," said the girl. 



"I have seen the days," continued the young man. "E 

 have seen you refuse those who would have you for a< 

 wife. To the rich, and those of brave deeds you have 

 said no. Now, to-day have they laughed, and they said 

 to me, 'Why do you not ask her?' I am poor, very "poor. 

 No lodge is mine. I have no food, no robes, no fur for 

 winter. Neither have I a relative. All have gone to tbe> 

 Sandhills. Yet now, to-day, I ask you, take pity! be my 

 wife." 



Then hid she her face, and she brushed the ground with 

 the point of her moccasin, back and forth, back and forth, 

 for she was thinking. Then after a time she said. "True,i 

 all those have I refused. Yet now the p or one asks me 

 and I am glad. You will I marry, and my people will be 

 happy. You are poor, yet that will matter not. Myj 

 father will give you many dogs. My mother will make 

 us a lodge, and they will give us robes and furs, and you 

 will be poor no longer." 



Then was the young man very happy, and he started to 

 kiss her, but she held him back and urther said: "That 

 Above Person has spoken to me, he has said: 'Marry not, 

 for you are mine, and you shall live to great age,' and 

 again he said: 'Take heed, marry not or you shall quickly 

 die,' therefore I am not my own. I am his. But now I 

 say: Go you to that Above Person and tell him, 'She whom 

 you commanded heeds your words, yet now would she 

 marry me, therefore am I come.' If he shall say yes, he 

 will give you a sign for me. But if he refuse, then will 

 you return not. Or, if in that far country you fail to find 

 his lodge, then return not." 



" Oh ! " said the young man. "good at first your words 

 and my heart was glad. But now it sinks within me. 

 Now am I dismayed. Does the sun shine ? Does the 

 river flow ? Are the trees in leaf ? I cannot tell, for I 

 look on the night and my heart is sad. Where is that far 

 off lodge ? and where the trail which no one yet has 

 traveled ? " 



" Take, courage, take courage," said the girl, and she 

 turned to her lodge. 



Then went he of sad heart to an old woman who had 

 been kind to him, and he said : " Pity me, for I am poor. 

 For now would I travel, make me then some moccasins 

 and give me a sack of food." 



Seven pairs the woman made, with parflecho soles, and 

 she gave him too a sack of food, pemmican of berries, 

 pounded meat and strip of dried back-fat. And when she 

 had done the young man started to find the home of the 

 Sun. Alone and with sad heart he climbed the bluff. 

 " Shall I ever see the people again?" he thought, as he 

 stopped to take a last look at the lodges, and with a sigh 

 he went on. 



Now many days he traveled along, and every day his 

 sack of food became lighter. One night he stopped close 

 by the home of a wolf. " Ha I" said the wolf, " what is 

 my brother doing here all alone ?" 



" Ah ! " replied the young man, " I seek the home of 

 that Above Person. I go to ask him for a woman. She 

 has told me to, for she is his own." 



" I have traveled far," said the wolf, w I know all the 

 prairies, and the valleys, and the mountains, yet I have 



*The sun. 



+Sandaill8— A barren place where all the people go after death. 



