Feb. 17, 1887.J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



65 



"You didn't, though," said Rogers. 



"Rogers," answered I. "You shouldn't contradict, it 

 isn't good manners, and especially such an old ramrod as 

 you know me to be." 



"Well," said Mr. S., "We'll take the pony after dinner 

 and bring theui in — it' we can find two." 



"If your pony can't carry two deer you want to take 

 another one along," said I, and proceeded to remove the 

 stains of battle. We were soon seated around the table, 

 where the story of my exploit was drawn from me, very 

 reluctantly, of course, and I was heartily congratulated. 

 After dinner we mounted our horses, and with much talk 

 and good feeling soon had No, 1 across the saddle of Mr. 

 Sisty 's pony, after which, after some meandering, we 

 found No. 2, and the pony carrying double without any 

 trouble, delivered them at the ranch witbout mishap, and 

 we were fed on venison riming the remainder of our stay. 



After supper we went to a beaver dam some distance 

 down the creek, and tore away the dam to some extent, 

 hiding in the bushes to get a shot when the beavers 

 should come to repair it. But although we could see 

 them in the moonlight some distance up tbe dam, and 

 hear an occasional slap of a tail, they kept away from 

 the break until we were tired of waiting and went back 

 to the house. 



The next morning we were early afoot and out after 

 deer, Rogers going in one direction and I in another, to 

 meet on a distant mountain about noon. I saw much 

 deer sign and hunted carefully, but without success, as 

 did Rogers. We were gone all day, and had a long, tire- 

 some tramp, witb nothing to show for it but a rabbit. It 

 was a lovely day and I enjoyed it immensely. The clear 

 blue sky, the rocky steeps, the wooded slopes, the beauti- 

 ful valley threaded by the pretty stream whose gleam ap- 

 peared here and there, combined to form a lovely picture. 

 What comfort it was, when tired, to sit down on the 

 mountain side with pipe alight and plenty of time and 

 enjoy it all ad libitum. 



After supper that evening Rogers and I went to the 

 dam to watch for beaver again. We found the dam fully 

 repaired and everything in order. We tore it away again 

 enough to lower tbe water come and hid to watch; but it 

 was useless. We saw the wake of one or two swimming, 

 but none came near the break, and after waiting until we 

 were thoroughly chilled and sleepy, we returned to the 

 house. The next morning I rejoiced at signs of snow, but 

 Rogers's tooth ached so badly that he decided to go home 

 and have it pulled. Mr. Sisty said he had a pan of shoe- 

 maker's pinchers that lie thought would fit R.'s mouth, 

 and tried to find them but without success. I told R. that 

 I would tie a string to a bullet and the other end to the 

 tooth and I felt sure I could fetch it if I pushed on the 

 gun, but I think he was homesick, for he would not con- 

 sent, and after breakfast saddled up and departed up the 

 valley, leaving me to stay the week out. 



The question of trout fishing arose, and Mr. S. said he 

 knew of one hole up the canon where he thought the 

 trout wintered, that it was the deepest of any he knew 

 of, and that if they were not there we could scarcely hope 

 to find any at this season in this part of the valley, so we 

 took lines and guns and rode away. After following the 

 creek quite a distance we came to a point where it issued 

 from the canon, and as it would have been difficult, if 

 not impracticable, to follow it, we kept up the main 

 valley to the right, with the low range or spur of moun- 

 tain between us and the creek. After going two or three 

 miles we turned to the left and ascended the mountain to 

 the top, perhaps a thousand feet, hitched our horses— for 

 we could not descend with them— and picked our way 

 slowly down afoot to the bed of the creek. Here we 

 found the hole, covered with ice, excepting a small space 

 where the water entered over a little fall. " Snow covered 

 the ground on each bank, and winter reigned. We had 

 expected to find bait of some kind, but it was impossible, 

 so we took a bit of green leaf, put it upon the hooks, and 

 let it float down under the ice. A tree had fallen across 

 the hole a few inches below the entrance. One of us 

 stood on this and the other just above the entrance where 

 he could see down into the. hole under the log. Then the 

 hook was dropped gently down and the current carried it 

 down under the tree. The trout were so sluggish that 

 they were not particular whether they had any green leaf 

 or not, but came up toward it in a very indifferent man- 

 ner, half taking it in and spitting it out again, but at last, 

 when the watcher above the entrance -saw a trout take it 

 in, he gave the signal and out came a fine trout. He was 

 laid on the snow, where he was a very cold corpse in a 

 very short time. We cut the belly -fins from him for bait, 

 and in a little while we had on the snow nine fine fellows 

 that averaged nearly a foot in length. Then the sport 

 ceased, for no lure that we could invent was of any avail. 

 So we strung the fish upon a twig and laboriously climbed 

 to the horses, and slowly rode homeward, keeping a sharp 

 lookout for deer, but without success. We saw consider- 

 able beaver sign this day, but no beaver. That night Ed. 

 Sisty (the son) and I went to the dam again, tore it away 

 as before, but could get no shot. 



Snow sign was all gone the next morning, but I went 

 out as usual after deer, having a line in my pocket. I 

 found any number of fresh tracks, but although I hunted 

 faithfully, I was unrewarded. Walking along the side of 

 a mountain, when I had concluded to descend into the 

 valley, I saw, sixty or seventy yards ahead of me, near a 

 ledge of rocks, a white rabbit sitting looking at me. I 

 said to myself, "Ole bar, I'll take you along." So I sat 

 down at a convenient spot, held the gun across my knees, 

 drew my eye "well down into the sights," but not so far 

 but that I could get it back again, and fired. "Br'er Rab- 

 bit sot dar, he did," just the same. I pumped in another 

 cartridge and drew fine on him, and when the smoke 

 cleared away there was "Br'er Rabbit, and he wink he 

 eye slow." I began to be interested now, and yet once 

 again I pulled on him, but though the dust flew, Br'er 

 Rabbit stood the storm like a veteran, and "kep on sayin' 

 nuthin'." I looked at my gun, lock, stock and barrel, ex- 

 amined the sights, looked at objects around to see whether 

 I was cross-eyed, and, called on the spectre again. Then 

 he must have heard something unusual, for he turned and 

 went "lippity-clippity, clippity-lippity" toward the ledge, 

 disappearing behind it. and I saw him no more. 



I laid my course for the creek then, and struck it near 

 quite a large hole, and concluded to discover whether all 

 the trout had descended to the Platte, as had been reported, 

 so I baited my hook with an entomological specimen that 

 I found under a log, and in less than a minute I had a 

 trout on land, and I continued to pull them out until I 

 had eight good ones, but not as large as those of the pre- 



vious day. Then the sport ended and I went to tbe ranch. 



The following day was Saturday, my last in the valley, 

 and I determined to put in every hour faithfully that 

 might take some venison home to my "bach," partner, 

 started early and went over to the "big mountain", to 

 ground that I had not bunted over. Sign was plentiful. 

 I hunted very leisurely, stopping often and using my eyes 

 and ears faithfully, but with all my care and caution the 

 deer refused to materialize. Not a deer did I see or hear, 

 but I enjoyed that day's tramp exceedingly nevertheless. 

 I enjoy to the full being in the wilds alone, and especially 

 in a strange country. The fascination of the woods, 

 mountains and streams took possession of me when but a 

 boy and has held possession ever since, growing with my 

 growth. What possibilities are there in the solitude of 

 the forest. What graceful combination of branches and 

 boles. What chants from leafy boughs. What "music 

 in the air." What a grand chorus when all nature is in 

 harmony. What symphonies in grays and browns. What 

 lessons in architecture. What studies in perspective. 

 What plays of light and shadow. What a subtle, unde- 

 finable influence that takes possession of one amid such 

 surroundings, banishing, for a time at least, the rasping 

 cares that, born of intercourse with men, worry and 

 harass the should-be peaceful life. Happy indeed id he, 

 who 



"Finds tongues in the trees, 

 Books in the running hrooks, 

 Sermons in stones and good in everything." 



So passed my week in Bear Creek Valley, every day 

 full of solid enjoyment, brightened by the kindness and 

 cordiality of host and hostess, who could not do too much 

 for the "stranger within their gates." I never and shall 

 never think of them without a ben i son. May their lot 

 always be cast in pleasant places. 0. O. S. 



JAMES M. LE MOINE. 



[The following paper, from the pen of our occasional Corres- 

 pondent, Mr. Charles Lanman, will appear in the second series of 

 his "Hap-hazard Personalities."! 



AS I remember the good old times, when I frequently 

 visited Canada for the purpose of catching salmon 

 and sketching its scenery, I never fail to recall my inter- 

 course with James Macpherson Le Moine. He was al- 

 ways ready to do his best for the gratification of all tour- 

 ists from the United States, and by means of his indus- 

 trious pen, he has honorably and permanently linked his 

 name with the history, the scenery and the people of the 

 Dominion. He was not himself a fisherman, but well 

 posted in regard to all the more interesting localities, 

 where sport was to be found, and his advice as to the best 

 methods for traveling and camping out was always freely 

 given and highly appreciated by its recipients. 



Mr. Le Moine was born in Quebec on the 2oth of Janu- 

 ary, 18.25, his paternal ancestors having been people of 

 distinction in France, while his mother was descended 

 from the Macphersons of Great Britain. He spent Iris 

 early youth at St. Thomas, under the care of his maternal 

 grandfather, Daniel Macpherson; was educated at the 

 noted Seminary of Quebec; studied law. came to the bar 

 in 1845 and practiced the profession for several years with 

 the late Charles Holt, of Quebec, of honorable fame; but 

 but having a decided taste for literature, he subsequently 

 devoted the most of his time to the writing and the pub- 

 fishing of books, in both the French and English lan- 

 guages. As an author his career lias been marked for its 

 untiring labors, resulting in a large number of works, 

 chiefly connected with Canada, and all of which have 

 been eminently successful. In the Historical Library of 

 Quebec are to be found not less than twenty of his publi- 

 cations; but those which I would designate as my favor- 

 ites are the "Legendary Lore of the Lower St. Lawrence," 

 a series of essays entitled "Maple Leaves," "Quebec 

 Past and Present," "Chronicles of the St. Lawrence," 

 "Ornithologie du Canada" and "Les Pecheries du Can- 

 ada." To these, in the purely historical line, might be 

 added two volumes devoted to Generals Montgomery and 

 Montcalm, the former production having done much to 

 make the people of Canada better acquainted than they 

 were before with the exalted character of the American 

 general. By his descriptions of scenery, happily blended 

 with the traditions of the land, he has proven himself the 

 possessor of a poetic mind: by his investigations in natural 

 history he has won the applause of scientific men every- 

 where; and by his perseverance and skill as an anti- 

 quarian, he has rescued from the past very much infor- 

 mation, which will hereafter be of great value to the 

 writers of systematic history. Possessing in an eminent 

 degree all the instincts of a true conservative, he has won 

 the respect and affection of both the French and English 

 races of the Dominion; and had he chosen to descend to 

 the purely political plane of public life, he would prob- 

 ably have won the highest accessible honors of his time. 

 Rather than yield to the sordid temptations of public life, 

 he has ever preferred the quiet sphere of a man of letters, 

 and his beautiful home, known as Spencer Grange, has 

 ever been the meeting place of the most cultivated so- 

 ciety of Quebec and their chance visitors from abroad. 

 It was on the occasion of his building a new tower at this 

 happy home that his numerous friends— the best people 

 in Quebec— gave him a grand reception and presented 

 to him, for that tower, a handsome Dominion flag, as a 

 tribute of the high regard in which he was held by the 

 people of Canada, for his many and important services. 

 In the long and minute address that was made on that 

 occasion the speaker gave, among many others, the fol- 

 lowing reason for the honor conferred: "He has de- 

 scribed and made us proud of our Canadian homes, 

 pointing out to the readers of his works and to the nu- 

 merous travelers who visit this city that our residences 

 are scenes of domestic virtue, honorable living and Chris- 

 tian happiness. In no Canadian home is this more re- 

 markable than in his own. If we, who are his friends and 

 neighbors, recognize this, what more royal present can 

 we give, than by crowning his residence with a flag, and 

 claiming our right as free men, to plant our standard of 

 good will and friendship on the tower of our honorable 

 friend's house— Spencer Grange." 



In one of the volunteer speeches made on that occasion, 

 an incident was mentioned, which, I think, for its gen- 

 eral interest alone, should be repeated in this place. "I 

 casually met," said the speaker, "a stranger, a titled gen- 

 tleman, who told me he had met me before. 'You are 

 from Quebec. Do you know Mr. J. M. Le Moine?' said he. 

 'Right well,' I replied. 'Are you aware of the service he 

 rendered my family by helping me to make good my de- 



scent from the most illustrious old Canadian family— the 

 house of Longueuil. Through his researches and with 

 the help of Lord Lome and his great adviser, Sir John, I 

 am now, by the gracious act of Queen Victoria. Baron do 

 Longueuil. ' Thus, most unexpectedly and strangelv, was 

 forced on me another proof of services rendered through 

 the writings of our guest." 



Another tribute, which, for its gracefulness, I cannot 

 refrain from reproducing in this place. It is in the form 

 of a sonnet and comes from the pen of William Kerr, of 

 Niagara : 



"1 love Quehec for three good reasons, one, 

 Her matchless beauty that so takes the eye, 

 Her famous history in the years gone hy — 

 And last for sake of him, her worthy son, 

 Bone of her hone, whose facile pen has run 

 Through tomes of legendary lore that vie 

 With what the world loves best; and so love I 

 Quebec for these good reasons, and upon 

 The plinth of Wolfe and Montcalm lay my hand, 

 And callto witness all the varied land 

 Seen from the lofty Cape's embattled coigne, 

 Mountain and vale and river, isles that gleam 

 Resplendent with the memories that beam 

 Upon them from the pages of Le Moine." 



On five different occasions did the Royal Literary and 

 Historical Society of Quebec, founded under the auspices 

 of Lord Lome, select Mr. Le Moine for their President, 

 and he was also made an honorary member of many 

 other societies in New Brunswick, France and the United 

 States; and for many years past he has held the respon- 

 sible position of Dominion Inspector of Inland Revenue 

 at Quebec, which has done much to help him in his his- 

 torical investigations. 



In further illustration of the characteristics of my 

 Canadian friend, I must not omit to mention one or two 

 additional particulars: 



When Dean Stanley visited Canada and was the guest 

 of the Governor-General, the Earl of Dufferin, his Ex- 

 cellency requested Mr. Le Moine, as the historian of 

 Quebec, to play the part of assistant host in the investi- 

 gation of the city wonders. 



In speaking of Mr. Le Moine's home, known as Spencer 

 Grange, as a charming center of refinement and culture, 

 I should not omit to mention one of its peculiar charms, 

 as follows : Prompted by his devotion to ornithology ho 

 built himself an aviary and filled it with the beautiful 

 creatures whose habits he loved to study; and appended 

 to it a regular museum of natural history specimens, as 

 well as an extensive collection of books, old-time engrav- 

 ings and curios, connected with the history of Canada. 

 When George Augustus Sala happened to be a guest at 

 Spencer Grange, he was greatly pleased with all that he 

 saw under the roof of his host"; and it so happened that 

 his surprise knew no bounds when he found himself sur- 

 rounded by a host of goodly citizens of Quebec, who had 

 come together to celebrate* an annual grape festival, or- 

 ganized and perpetuated by the owner of the Grange. 



In concluding my brief notice of Mr. Le Moine I use 

 the language and indorse the sentiment of a paragraph 

 which I find in the "Cyclopaedia of Canadian Biography," 

 as follows: "He has had the good fortune to handle Cana- 

 dian history and its burning questions of creed, race, etc., 

 with so much impartiality that rarely have his views 

 been challenged. * * One wonders how and when he 

 could have found time to treat of so many subjects. * * 

 Hospitable, genial and courteous, he is respected for his 

 talents and beloved for his large heart." 



Address all erimmumcations to the Forest and Stream Puh. C". 



DO SQUIRRELS HIBERNATE? 



Editor Forest and Stream : 



I see by your last issue that certain correspondents 

 want information on the question of squirrel hibernation. 

 I would like to add a little negative evidence, which 

 seems to indicate that the squirrel does not hibernate. 



In Manitoba, after once the winter sets in, it usually 

 continues with steady frost, and in the fall of 18S6 the 

 cold weather closed in as usual about the end of Novem- 

 ber, and from that time up to the middle of January 

 when I came away, the thermometer usually showed 

 from 10' to 30° below zero, with a minimum of 88" be- 

 low, and I believe a maximum of 10 above. I was out 

 shooting nearly every day, and nearly every day I saw 

 red squirrels running about among the oaks, either forag- 

 ing or playing, much as in the early fall. 



As late as Dec. 28 I find in my diaiy the following- 

 note: "While camped for dinner several red squirrels 

 chattered in the branches overhead. Two were chasing 

 each other from tree to tree, over the snow, and during 

 their excitement several times came within six feet of 

 where I sat." I have no note of the temperature that 

 day, but it was certainly at least 20° below zero. 



Ernest E. Thompson. 



Toronto, Feb. 5, 18S7. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Speaking of squirrels and whether they hibernate, store 

 up food for winter use, etc., I noticed a curious tiling a 

 day or two ago. I was walking in the country. By the 

 side of the road was a path firmly trodden. The ground 

 was wet. but the path was firm' and hard. I noticed a 

 gray squirrel in front of me and stopped to watch the 

 little fellow as he hopped slowly along with his nose to 

 the ground, smelling on first one side of him and then the 

 other, as if trying to locate something which he knew to 

 be in that neighborhood. Finally he seemed to find the 

 right spot, and began digging in the path with his paws. 

 After a while he drew forth something which he imme- 

 diately began to eat. Before he had finished I accident- 

 ally made a slight noise, when the squirrel, turning his 

 head, saw me, dropped his prize and ran off. Upon going 

 there I found a large white oak acorn, sound, partially 

 sprouted and about half eaten by the squirrel. It had. 

 been buried in the ground to the depth of 1-i to Sin., as I 

 could plainly see from the impression of the acorn in the 

 ground (the hard path) from which the squirrel took it. 



Now r , how did that squirrel know that acorn was there? 

 Did he bury it there last fall and remember the spot? Or, 

 did he smell it and find it by scent? Either solution attri- 



