Sept. 1, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM 1 



105 



valley by the house. For a few seconds the bars hid all 

 of it except a streak of its body, but in a minute I saw 

 that it was a buck antelope. When he came opposite the 

 door where I was sitting he stopped, took a look around, 

 and then putting his nose to the ground began to paw the 

 dirt, somewhat as a bull does when lie is beginning to 

 get mad and wants a fight. He did not seem to mind the 

 nouses a particle, and after he got through pawing, began 

 to feed. I suppose he was 50yds. from the ranch house 

 and perhaps 60yds. from our door. One of the boys sug- 

 gested shooting him, but we had plenty of meat and I 

 said no. It seemed to me that as he had trusted us, 

 although unconsciously, by coming right up to the door- 

 step, it would be taking a mean advantage of him to 

 shoot him then. We got down a rifle and sighted at him 

 to see whether in the fading light we could see the sights. 

 I could not, and to see to shoot at the animal would have 

 been obliged to hold a foot under him. The buck staid 

 there feeding until it grew so dark that we could not see 

 him except when he moved. Several times we whistled 

 at him and clapped our hands together, but he would not 

 budge from his meal, though now and then he would lift 

 his head and look when we became too noisy. Presently, 

 however, one of the men had occasion to' go up to the 

 ranch house, and the buck saw his light shirt moving 

 through the darkness and took fright. In a moment, 

 with a snort of alarm he had turned and trotted swiftly 

 back toward the mountains, and that was the last we saw 

 of him. 



The growing moon was high in the heavens and was 

 flooding the valley with its soft light, and over the black 

 mass of the mountains in the western heavens hung a 

 blazing star. I felt like sitting out there cmietly smok- 

 ing until daylight, but there was lots of work to be done 

 on the morrow, so I presently rolled into my blankets. 



Jose. 



BLACK AND SILVER FOXES. 



MoDAVIES CEEEK, Cassior, B. C, July 25.— .Editor 

 Forest and Stream : In the 7th of last April issue 

 of the Forest and Stream appears an article written by 

 "Stanstead" on black and silver foxes. He believes in and 

 advances the theory that black and silver foxes are sim- 

 ply a freak of nature and that they belong to the red fox 

 family. He also says that Mr. Francois Mercier, of the 

 Alaska Commei'cial Co. , asserts that a female black or 

 silver fox is a thing unknown. I am an old fur-trader 

 and traveler from Hudson's Bay to within the Arctic 

 circle in the McKenzie and Youcon basins, and my ex- 

 perience teaches me that I can't agree with these two 

 gentlemen on this point. There are two men here, each 

 has trapped a silver fox, skinned it and declares it to 

 have been a female. Their names are Albert Egnell and 

 John LaMountague ; and they can testify to this. My 

 opinion is that the silver fox is a distinct species. I doubt 

 whether it is generally known that the silver fox is black 

 before it gets its full fur and that the silver tips come 

 when it is becoming what is called thoroughly prime. 

 An interesting question, however, is whether the black 

 fox is a distinct species from the silver. The theory of 

 black and silver foxes belonging to the red fox family does 

 not hold good, for more reasons than one. Red foxes are 

 numerous in Sweden and there is not a black or silver 

 fox to be found there. The black or silver fox is a much 

 more delicately formed animal than the red, its feet 

 and ears alone distinctly marking a different species. 

 The cross fox is a breed between the black or silver fox 

 and the red, and it would be an interesting thing to be 

 able to decide whether it is a non-producer like the mule. 



K. N. L. McD. 



CONFIDING QUAIL. 



ON the 19th of July last I set a boy at work carting 

 stone for the cellar of a house; he had a common 

 dray with one horse attached and usually walked along- 

 side the animal while going to and fro. At 6 P. M. the 

 boy quit work, and, thinking to get one more load in for 

 the day I drove down to the cellar with one. As I turned 

 from the main road into the new one made that day by 

 the boy— who had taken a short cut to where he unloaded 

 — I put up a quail which started almost from under the 

 horses' feet, I stopped the team at once and began to 

 look for a nest, which I found only one step ahead of the 

 horse and just half way between the wheel tracks. Of 

 course I turned off and was as much surprised as the bird 

 herself to think that four or five loads had gone over the 

 nest and neither boy nor horse had trodden on it or even 

 seen it. If I had not seen the bird fly I too should have 

 driven on. On going back I stuck up a lath by the nest 

 and the next day told the boy to drive around it and also 

 asked Mm if he had seen the bird. He said he had seen 

 a partridge fly up but could find no nest. I had stones 

 carted by it for several days, and the bird finding that 

 she was not to be molested, would sit on the nest when 

 the teams went by, only 4ft. off, and the boy or man — for 

 I put on another team — walked on the same side. 



On the 24th, which was Sunday, I went down to look 

 at the work and to see if my quail had hatched; she had, 

 and I went up to the nest and began counting the shells 

 to see how many there were. I took them up one by one 

 and found f ourteen. While counting them I discovered 

 the mother bird sitting on the young not 4ft. from the 

 nest. She did not fly, and I left her there, since which 

 time I have never seen her. 



About 200yds., from this nest is another, which was 

 built right in the middle of a small piece of English 

 meadow; when this meadow was mowed the grass was 

 cut off smooth, so it was a wonder the quail's head was 

 not taken off with it. In this nest were sixteen eggs, 

 and while the hay was being made the bird would be 

 kept from sitting. This nest, I may explain, was found 

 two weeks before the one first mentioned. After the hay 

 was carried off the bird returned to the nest and con- 

 tinued sitting and did sit until last Saturday, a period of 

 some forty-two or three days, when the land owner, fear- 

 ing he would dry up on it, took the eggs out and threw 

 them away. This was a male, and although I went often 

 to see, I never saw the female bird on it, while on the 

 other nest only the female was seen. Is it possible that 

 the female made a new nest and left those eggs to the care 

 of the male? That they did not hatch was not the bird's 

 fault; he was as constant as any sitting hen, and on only 

 two occasions was he absent when I passed. Of all birds' 

 eggs I have knowledge of, quail's eggs are as sure to be fer- 

 tile as any I have seen, and the reason these did not hatch 



was the exposure while the hay was being raked, turned 

 and carted off. I saw in Forest and Stream some time 

 since an article which bore on the fact whether the male 

 bird sat on the eggs, and this case would seem to show 

 that he did and did it faithfully, too. 



Quail are late with us this season, but fairly plenty. 

 They are so tame and confiding that I wish Oct. 15 meant 

 no harm to them; we have no bird who is so much man's 

 friend every day in the year. No bird of my acquaint- 

 ance — and my list is long — will repay kindness and watch- 

 ing like little Bob White. Let a man who loves a true 

 friend or loves a cheerful voice stand on his doorstep on 

 a July evening when Bob is whistling his vespers. Hark! 

 he is sitting on yonder fence — "Ah-Bob White'' — note the 

 trifling difference in accent between this one and that 

 fellow in the meadow. Four at one time, as I heard 

 them a few nights since, just after sunset, made a quar- 

 tette worth listening to. Happy is the man who owns a 

 small lot that is visited day after day by a flock of quail. 

 When a man says, "There is a flock of quail around here, 

 I wish you would not shoot them," I know how he feels. 



Walter B. Si, vary. 



East Wareham, Mass. 



NESTING OF THE ENGLISH SPARROW. 



SHARPSVILLE, Pa.— Editor Forest and Stream: I 

 have just read in your issue of July 7 Mr. J. L. 

 Davison's report of a large nest built by English sparrows 

 in an apple tree near Lockport, N. Y. ; and of the finding 

 of eggs of the same bird in a hollow tree in woods far 

 from any house. 



My son, Ned W. Goodwin, a lad of fifteen only but a 

 careful observer, says in effect: "I have this season seen, 

 in a fir tree, near a residence about two miles out of 

 town, six nests of the English sparrow. The branches of 

 the tree, radiating from the trunk in series, quite closely 

 disposed one above another, droop downward; and thickly 

 fringed with long sprays of foliage as they are, afford the 

 nests ample shelter from the weather. Each of the nests 

 in question was situated upon the drooping portion of a 

 branch and upon the convex upper surface of the leafage 

 of the branch. The bird had made first a foundation mat 

 of straw, on which it built up a structure nearly spherical 

 in form, and about one foot in its greatest diameter, of 

 straws quite neatly woven together. Inside this ball is 

 the nest proper, which is thickly lined with the downy 

 feathers of barnyard fowls. The entrance to the nest is 

 an ascending cylindrical tunnel, lying along and directly 

 above the supporting branch. One of the nests is on a 

 branch, the extremity of which is not more than seven 

 feet above the ground. Drawing this branch downward 

 I closely examined the nest, It contained six eggs. One 

 nest was situated about twenty-five feet above the ground; 

 the others lower down. The tree affords good shelter at 

 a height considerably greater than twenty-five feet. I 

 saw also an English sparrow's nest in a small maple near 

 a dwelling house in town; it was, in material and form, 

 like those in the fir tree. It was placed upon a branch, 

 at the crotch made by the branch and the stem of the 

 tree." 



English sparrows built this spring under the shelter of 

 the porch of my house. The nest was composed of dry 

 grass, and contained an interior chamber lined with 

 downy feathers. The outer structure was about fourteen 

 inches long by ten inches wide; it was built into the 

 angle formed by the ceiling of the porch and the inside 

 of the face of the cornice of the porch. The nest, after 

 entire completion, was destroyed. The birds did not at- 

 tempt to rebuild. In this they were unlike a pair of 

 robins, which persisted, for about a week, in placing 

 material for a nest on the transom of a doorway opening 

 upon the porch, notwithstanding a correspondingly per- 

 sistent sweeping away of their building material. 



Commenting upon Mr. F. C. Browne's statement of the 

 killing, by an English sparrow, of a breeding swallow, 

 Master Ned says that he has seen, twice within three 

 years, a crow blackbird seize in the nest the unfledged 

 young of the.robin, and bear them away in its talons, de- 

 spite the attacks of the parent birds. J. M. G. 



A Black-Billed Cuckoo.— Brooklyn, N. Y. Aug. 22. 

 — Kindly identify (if possible) the bird owning the in- 

 closed head and wing. Would have been happy to have 

 supplied its entire anatomy, but unfortunately a .45-cal. 

 bit of lead prevented. For years I have desired to get a 

 specimen, as there have been many friends disagreeing 

 as to the identity of the bird, some insisting that it is the 

 brown thrasher or thrush, while others hold that it is the 

 rain crow, a species of the cuckoo. A long slim bird, a 

 half larger than a robin, brown above, with dull white 

 on throat and belly. Is often seen and heard on the out- 

 skirts of our city. Its notes are most peculiar, at first 

 somewhat resembling the hammering of a large wood- 

 pecker on a hollow log, but much louder, and afterward 

 approximating the cooing of a wood dove. — A Veteran 

 Reader. [Your bird is not a brown thrasher, but is a 

 black-billed cuckoo (Coecyzus erythrophthalmus). For 

 an account of its habits see any work on North American 

 ornithology. A short, pleasant account of this species is 

 given in the July number of the Audubon Magazine. 

 The bird is a common one, but keeps well out of sight.] 



Black Skimmer in New Jersey.— Ardmore, Mont- 

 gomery county, Pa., Aug. 18. — I saw on Monday the 1st 

 two shearwaters or black skimmers in Atlantic City 

 Meadows, a bird I have not seen since '67, when a flock of 

 about a dozen were at the upper end of Brigantine Beach. 

 I have been pretty often on the shore, sometimes every 

 week. Bay snipe are very scarce this season, but that is 

 only what they have been for some years, getting less 

 every year. I also saw on the 13th a great white heron 

 in Grassy Bay, another scarce bird in this region. — I. N. 

 D. Hason. 



Ducks Wild and Tame.— Zilwaukee, Mich.— Saginaw 

 River has a great many sawmills on its banks and dwell- 

 ing houses. On each side of the river are a great many 

 bayous and marshes; and most all the people that live on 

 the banks of the river have a great many tame ducks. 

 Wild and tame ducks are hatched together, and people 

 cannot tell whether they are wild ducks or tame ducks. 

 Since our game wardens have been appointed most all 

 the people take an interest in protection of the ducks and 

 other game. — H. C. 



wme j§aq nnd %nt\. 



MICHIGAN SEASONS. 



THE open seasons in Michigan are as follows: Partridge, snipe, 

 woodcock, duck and other wild waterfowl, from Sept. I to 

 Jan. 1. Prairie chicken, Sept. 1 to Nov. 1. Wild turkey, Oct. 1 to 

 Jan. 1. Quail, Nov. 1 to Jan. 1. Deer, Upper Peumsula, Oct. I to 

 Nov. 15; Lower Peninsula, Nov. 1 to Dec. 1. The use of dogs to 

 hunt deer prohibited. Trout over 6in. long may he taken with rod 

 and line only, from May 1 to Sept. 1, and grayling from June 1 to 

 Nov. 1. 



MISCOU. 



THIS island, which is situated at the southern entrance 

 into the Bay of Chaleur, forms part of the county of 

 Gloucester, in the Province of New Brunswick. It has 

 long been known as one of the best places for sea fowl 

 shooting in America. Here from September until No- 

 vember are to be found geese, brant and ducks of various 

 kinds, while in August and September curlew, plover 

 and other small birds which love the vicinity of the sea 

 are to be met with. Miscou is now made more accessible 

 to the sportsman by the completion of a railway from the 

 line of the Intercolonial to Caraquette, which is about 

 twenty-five miles distant by water from the MiscoU 

 shooting grounds. 



The peninsula of Gloucester is in general flat, the rock 

 which underlies it is of millstone grit, the decomposition 

 of which produces the fine sand which forms its shores, 

 which, especially about the lower part of the county, are 

 very shoal. Shippegan and Miscou islands attain even a 

 less elevation above the ocean than does the rest of the 

 peninsula, and they are covered by a more scrubby 

 growth of trees. 



The favorite shooting grounds for geese and brant in 

 Miscou is Mai Bay, reached by passing around Shippegan 

 Island through Miscou harbor. There are, indeed, two 

 bays, North and South. These are about three-quarters 

 of a mile apart. The entrance to them is through a nar- 

 row and tortuous channel. The passage can be attempted 

 only when the tide is well up, since at low water on 

 either side and all around are hundreds of acres of light 

 green grass left exposed by the receding tide. These are 

 the favorite resting and feeding places of the wild geese 

 as they pass from the dreary shores of Labrador to a cli- 

 mate where winter has no terrors. Their food is the'ten- 

 der root of this very grass. When the tide rises so high 

 that they can no longer reach it with their outstretched 

 necks, they take their flight to a fresh water lake which 

 is situated between the two bays, and the chief shooting 

 is done while this passage is being made, the sportsman 

 taking up his position near the margin of the lake and 

 killing the birds as they fly over. They usually fly low, 

 as the distance between the feeding ground and the lake 

 is short. Indeed, if there be a good stiff breeze blow- 

 ing, they must fly low to alight in the lake, which is a 

 small body of water whose circumference hardly exceeds 

 a mile. They always fly against the wind when they 

 intend to light on the lake. 



Only a portion of the birds go back to the feeding 

 ground, some seeking the baj of Chaleur, while others 

 wing their flight to the south, there is often good shoot- 

 ing at those which return to the feeding grounds. 



In fine weather large numbers of geese fly to a moss 

 barren at the head of the lake and there enjoy themselves 

 in the sun; they are said to be very fond of the little 

 speckled cranberry which grows on low swampy barrens. 



Brant are also very abundant in Miscou, and the points 

 adjacent to the channel leading into South Mai Bay are 

 said to be among the best brant shooting stands on the 

 continent. 



There are also ponds on the island where wild ducks of 

 various kinds can be had abundantly. About Oct. 10 is 

 the best time for securing the brant, as they arrive later 

 than the geese. Edward Jack. 



Fredericton, Canada. 



THE UPLAND PLOVER. 



WHILE we have been reading about almost all kinds 

 of bird shooting, there has been nothing said lately 

 about plover. They tell about their snipe and woodcock 

 shooting, and how they traveled all day in the marshes 

 and swamps, the most of their time knee-deep in mud, 

 and sometimes taking a header in some deep hole that 

 they did not know was there until they made the explor- 

 ation, and both men and dogs tired out, and sometimes 

 empty bags and more times empty than full ones. And 

 then the partridge or grouse hunter, how he will travel 

 from morning till niglit and have to be satisfied with the 

 few he gets by hard work. No doubt it is a very good 

 thing for the health to get the exercise if you do not get 

 the birds. 



I like to shoot snipe, woodcock, partridge and grouse, 

 when I do not have to work too hard for them, but to my 

 notion plover is the best of all. In plover shooting you 

 neither tramp it nor need a dog, but you do need a horse 

 that "is not afraid of a gun; then with a good gun and good 

 plover ground you are fixed. If you get plenty of shots 

 well and good, but if you fail to find the birds you have 

 no doubt enjoyed the ride, especially after working all 

 day; one can take horse and gun at 5 o'clock and get a 

 half dozen birds by dark. In plover shooting you are 

 not bothered by trees and bushes, but have a clear open 

 field, and you can either shoot from the wagon or step 

 out and take your bird as he goes away from you, and 

 they fly nicely. They are not much afraid of the report 

 of a gun, as I have known them to stay in the field after 

 shooting once; but you must not leave the wagon until 

 they go or you will not get another shot. It is essential 

 to have a quiet horse, or you might fare like my friend 

 Mac. The farm boys came to him one day and told him 

 there were plover in the oatfield, and he should go along 

 with them. He said he would if they did the driving 

 and let him do the shooting; but he allowed one of the 

 boys to take his gun with him. They found the plover 

 very soon, and one of the boys became very much excited, 

 and, without waiting for Mac to shoot or stop him, took 

 aim at a plover that was on a line with the horse's head 

 and blazed away. Mac says the only thing he remem- 

 bered was a feeling of flying in the air and then of finding 

 himself on the ground hardly able to get on his feet. 

 Mac weighs over 2001bs., and he made a hole in the 

 ground where he struck. He had a lame shoulder for 

 several weeks, and he says the worst of it all was the boy 

 missed the plover. B. S. C. 



DOYIiESTOWN, Pa. 



