128 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[March 10, 1887. 



SNIPE SHOOTING ON HORN ISLAND. 



TJ ORN ISLAND raises its sandy head fifteen miles off 

 XI the southeastern coast of Mississippi, amid the blue 

 waters of the Gulf of Mexico. 



The party consisted of four: S,, professor in one of our 

 Southern universities; M. , an inveterate seeker after gamy 

 fish; Narcisse, whose swarthy complexion and long, 

 coarse, straight black hah showed the mingling of races, 

 and last, but not least (for he carried the eatables), your 

 humble servant, we marched in single file over the rickety 

 wharf to where our little sloop is made fast. Presently 

 the words ''Shove her off" come from Narcisse, who is 

 stationed at the helm, and away we bound, leaving a long 

 silvery wake as we glide over the sea, while the soft rip- 

 pling of the water cut by the sharp bow sounds like 

 sweetest music. Dimmer and yet dimmer become the 

 red bluffs and giant oaks, till they blend in one dark line 

 upon the horizon. Upon the first break of day great flocks 

 of pelicans, lazily flapping their wings, leave their roost- 

 ing places and fly to their fa vorite fishing grounds. Now 

 and then the fin of a shark affords a floating target for 

 his marksmanship. 



If the breeze only keeps good! but, as we near the 

 island it grows fainter and fainter, until at last not the 

 merest catspaw raffles the surface, and only the sullen 

 boom, boom of the surf seaward disturbs the quiet. And 

 thus we he idly, the sails flapping listlessly, as we are 

 rolled by the swell, while the sharp, glinting rays of the 

 sun pour down upon us with relentless fury, "a painted 

 ship upon a painted ocean.'' "Blow breeze, blow," prays 

 Narcisse to his patron saint, while M., his face pale as the 

 fluttering sail overhead, is heard to mutter something 

 about not coming out there to feed the fishes. 

 , Whether in answer to Narcisse's invocation, or to M,'s 

 nausea, old Boreas relents, the breeze once more fills our 

 sails, and soon the welcome grating of the keel upon the 

 sand, tells us that we have reached our destination. After 

 holding a pow-wow. it is decided that M. and I shall try 

 for the snipe, Avhile S. and Narcisse troll for Spanish 

 mackerel. Tramp, tramp, swish, swish, up to our ankles 

 in the marsh mud, we go, following the wily snipe over 

 the boggy ground until the growing darkness bids us 

 hold a truce. Although the birds are somewhat wild, 

 upon comparing notes we find that thirty-three victims, 

 from the little sandpiper to th» stately curlew, have 

 rewarded our shots. 



Darkness is already upon us as we linger along the 

 marshy borders of a lagoon and listen to the myi-iad 

 voices of the night. The soft beams of the moon 'take 

 wierd and fantastic shapes, as they play upon the dark 

 surf ace of the pool. How plaintive sounds the cry of the 

 whip-poor-will floating to us upon the balmy night air; 

 and how harsh the cry of a heron flying swiftly over- 

 head. Then all is quiet save the musical hum of the 

 mosquitoes. Now the splash of a giant fish in the phos- 

 phorescent water, sending up showers of fire-like spray, 

 startles the ear. But hark! there is the deep bellow of an 

 alligator. Meanwhile an owl, in mournful numbers, is 

 croaking forth his tale. At length we are joined by the 

 fishers, who come dragging a shark five feet long, the 

 sole trophy of then- day's sport. 



Once more we board our sloop, the strong sea breeze 

 bends the mast and the cordage creaks while, as we near 

 the old wharf, the waves ripple a soft accompaniment to 

 Narcisse's Creole ditty. K. E. G. 



New Orleans, La. 



SOME WOODS CHARACTERS.— I. 



THE strange, irregular, abnormal growths to be seen 

 only in the primeval forests have then- counterpart 

 in the eccentricities of the guides, trapper sand camp scul- 

 lions who frequent these regions of the country. Some 

 are so peculiar as to baffle all attempts at classification. 

 Among this number was old Abbott, as he was familiarly 

 called, who abandoned a good farm to wander aimlessly 

 through the woods. He was not a trapper; at least he 

 brought no peltries to market. He did not hunt, for he 

 often traveled without a gun, and few were the fish that 

 ever came to his net or hook. He built no cabins, but 

 often burned those built by other people — not maliciously, 

 but from his improvident use of fire, sometimes building 

 it in the veiy center of the structure. Like Gladstone he 

 had a great passion for felling trees. The very choicest 

 pine and cedar trees were his peculiar delight. 'But when 

 once cut down he had no further use for them and there 

 they were left to rot, as if their one crime had been that 

 they had grown to be more beautiful and statelv tban 

 their fellows. 



There was another, of whom I shall speak more at 

 length, because he possessed traits somewhat in common 

 with the rest of humanity, though flavored with an orig- 

 inality all their own. Peter Newton in early life had 

 been a sailor, and few Feejee Islanders, I imagine, had 

 been subjected to more tattooing. Anchors, crosses, 

 banners and even schooners under full sail were plenti- 

 fully pricked into the veins parts of his body. 



For some reason best known to himself he had become 

 a habitant of the forest. He was skilled in fishing and 

 trapping, and an authority in woodcraft, and his advice 

 and assistance were often called into play by sportsmen. 

 Like all men of his class, he was more or less recluse, and 

 this, with his peculiar mental furnishing, made him a 

 philosopher and humorist along original lines of thought 

 and expression. 



"I have no book larnin, and I don't want none. I tell 

 you what, the book larnt people git all their knowledge 

 second hand. I study from nater. Nater tells no lies. 

 Nater is never misleadin'. I heerd somebody say once 

 that the light of nater was a dim light, whereas it is al- 

 ways a bright light. Nater deals with facts, original facts, 

 inexhaustible facts, and no mistake. Nater aint cruel, 

 nuther. The fact on't is, a creeter that is to be eaten up 

 gits jest as much satisfaction in being devoured as the 

 devourer gits in devourin' of him. There's the snake, for 

 instance. Mos' people hates snakes, and yit he is always 

 careful to charm his victims afore he swollows em." 



"But, Peter, doesn't the poor rabbit run as long as Ms 

 legs will hold out before he gives in to the fox? And does 

 not the trout fight hard before he suffers himself to come 

 to the net?" 



4 'Of course they does. But once let that trout git away 

 and it makes him the hero of the hull school, and he is 

 prouder on't than of anything else in all his life! But if 

 he don't git away, why he would be disappinted if you 

 didn't take him in at the end of the struggle. No, sir, 

 nater ain't cruel. It is only when things git civilized' and 



artificial that they git cruel. 'Do animiles talk?' Of 

 course they does. The deucidest funniest thing happened 

 here last season, when I was in the woods all alone, you 

 ever heed tell on." 



Now Peter liked to be coaxed, and so after considerable 

 urging, he went on as follows: 



"Of course you fellers that git all your larnin out of 

 books, and who believe nothing 'cept what you can ex- 

 plain, won't believe a word on't, but it is jest as true as 

 I'm sittin' on this ere stump, and don't you forgit it!" 



"Well, as I was a sayin, I was here all alone, and one- 

 day sez I to myself, I b'lieve I'll go and pick me a pail of 

 rosbris. Rosbris was tarnal thick in the openin' m the 

 woods— it was along in August, so I took my pail and 

 started off. Everything was going along monotonous 

 like— I never did like pickin berries — till I'd got the pail 

 eenamost full, when I heered something coming through 

 the bushes, and afore I'd had time to more than turn 

 round out popped a big sleek black bear. He'd bin a 

 berryin' too, and having got my wind jist came around 

 to see who I might be. Well, as I hadn't no gun, and as 

 he kept a cummin' I concluded it were best for me to git 

 out o' there, but before doing so— knowing the fondness 

 of the creeter for berries, and besides bein' aware of his 

 great bump of curiosity— I set down the pail before takin' 

 up the line of retreat. Not hearin' of him comin' arter 

 me, I turned around when I'd got up a little hill, and 

 sure enough his nose was down in the berries, and a 

 short job he was making of them, I can tell you. It 

 wan't long afore he'd got the last of them, but not bein' in 

 the habit of eating from a pail the sweet juice that lined 

 the tin had stuck to his cheeks, and so when he riz up to 

 go, the pail ri» up too, as putty a muzzle as you ever seed 

 in your life. Now everybody knows how handy a bear 

 is with his paw, and as he didn't like sich an ornament 

 for his face and havin' no furder use for the pail, he riz 

 his paw and gave it a slap, but as bad luck would have 

 it the paw accidentally hit the bail a tunk and sent it 

 back over his ears and so held the thing on tighter than 

 ever! I never laughed so in all my life for sich a per- 

 formance I'd never seen the likes of in all my mortal 

 days. First one paw would come up and then the other; 

 then he'd whack it agin a tree, and then he'd plow a 

 furrer in the ground; but there the thing stuck tighter 

 than ever. He was in for a new experience and no mis- 

 take. 



" 'Why didn't I go back to camp and git my gun and 

 finish him?' Why it beat all the circuses you ever thought 

 of, and do you suppose I'll spoil sech a show for a little 

 bear meat and a summer pelt! Well, all of a sudden, 

 while I was watchin' the performance, off he bolted like 

 chain-shot. Now, bein' a little curious to know how he 

 came out of the scrape, I took the trail and follered him 

 up arter a little. I found Ms home not far off on the 

 mountains yender. If you don't believe it I can show you 

 Ms very den. It seems bruin had a wif e and several 

 small chillun dependent upon him for support, and when 

 they seed him comin' in sich a plight they howled a 

 dreadful howl. The old woman tried her best to pull off 

 the path but to no purpose, so finally she made him hold 

 his nose in the hot embers of her kitchen fire till he'd 

 melted off the bottom of the pail, and afore I'd knowed it 

 the whole thing had been shoved back over Ms ears, and 

 so he was tricked out with a tin collar. But it was a 

 curious sort of a collar for a bear to wear, for it read: 



Fifteen Pounds op Leap Lard. 

 Warranted Strictly Pure. 



"But bruin's trouble had oMy just commenced. He, 

 like all other folks, had an enemy, and enemies is alius 

 waitin' for something to turn up to put us in then power. 

 So this particular enemy actually had him arrested for 

 sailing around under false colors. In vain Ms lawyer put 

 in the plea that the wearin' of the collar was an uninten- 

 tional act, a tMng that couldn't be helped. The lawyer 

 on the other side claimed it was a clear case of fraud and 

 misrepresentation, and agin the statute book for a bear 

 to call himself fifteen pounds of leaf lard, when there 

 was nothing mside Ms pelt corresponding to it but bear's 

 ile! And so they took Mm to prison, a great deep cavern 

 with a big boulder to the mouth on't. 



"But the strangest part of the story remains to be told, 

 for as true as I'm sittin' on this 'ere stump, notwithstand- 

 in' all the guards they put over him, and the security of 

 the prison, and the big boulder and all that, the very next 

 day he was out ag'in, and nobody, not even the Mgh 

 sheriff of the hull region, dare lay a claw on Mm." 



"How was that, Peter? Please' explain the mystery,'' 

 came from all the listeners. 



"Why, that's easy enough," said Peter, with a wink in 

 his eye. "He'd got bail, and they couldn't tech Min no 

 more!" C. H. Gleason. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Pub. Ok 



THE NOMENCLATURE OF COLORS.* 



EVERY ONE who has begun by himself to study orni- 

 thology has found at the very outset that he was 

 confronted by a serious obstacle. " Books on birds are 

 plenty enough, and the descriptions of their habits and 

 modes of life are smiple and easily understood because 

 they are couched in every day language, to wMch we are 

 all accustomed. When it comes to a description of the 

 bird's physical characteristics, however, it is quite differ- 

 ent. Here techmcal language is employed, and the novice 

 is at .once confronted with terms which are wholly un- 

 familiar to Mm and whose meaning cannot be discov- 

 ered by the most diligent search tMough the dictionary. 



To the man who is familiar with the termmology of 

 ornithology or with scientific methods, such difficulties 

 as these may seem slight, but they are not so. On the 

 contrary they are very real and very discouraging, and 

 unless the beginner has some one to apply to for assist- 



*A | nomenclature of colors [ for naturalists I and | compendium 

 of useful knowledge | for ornithologists. | Bv Robert Ridgway, | 

 Curator, Department of Birds, United States National Museum. | 

 With ten colored plates and seven plates | of outline illustrations. 

 I Boston; | Little, Brown & Co, 1 1886, 



ance who is better versed in science than himself , they 

 may even be insuperable. Those who have faced and 

 conquered such barriers to their progress, and the many 

 younger students, will warmly welcome Mr. Ridgway's 

 new book as a most valuable aid to them. Here is plainly 

 set forth and often illustrated by plate and diagram, the 

 meaning of many a technical term that has heretofore 

 daunted the beginner. It is a happy smoothing out and 

 leveling of the rough and Mllv road that most of us have 

 had to surmount by hard toil, with only experience for 

 our guide. 



One of the greatest desiderata to naturalists who are 

 not artists as well, is some means of exactly defining the 

 precise shade or tint of color which he may 'wish to desig- 

 nate, and it is especially to the clearing up of such diffi- 

 culties as tMs that the present work is devoted. It con- 

 tains, however, much more than this. 



The work, after an introduction, is divided into two 

 parts. Part I. treats of the nomenclature of colors, and 

 to this subject are given a Preface, Principles of Color 

 and General Remarks, Colors Required by the Zoological 

 or Botanical Artist, Comparative Vocabulary of Colors, 

 and a Bibliography. 



Part II., entitled Ornithologists' Compendium, con- 

 tains a Glossary of Technical Terms used in Descriptive 

 Ornithology, a Table for Converting Millimeters into 

 English Inches and Decimals, and a table for Converting 

 English Inches and Decmials into Millimeters. 



The work is illustrated with seventeen plates, of which 

 the first ten show colors and an mfimte variety of shades; 

 plates Xl.-Xin. are devoted to various points of external 

 anatomy; XIV. and XV. illustrate various color markings, 

 XVI. shows in outline various egg contours, and XVII. is 

 a Comparative Scale of Measurement Standards. 



This work, as will he seen from the contents, is curi- 

 ously full of information: no page of it can be scanned 

 without findmg sometlnng of interest, and very often 

 sometMng which will be new to the veteran ornithologist, 

 or if not new, at least put in some new form which makes 

 it striking. The work is, what might be expected from 

 Mr. Ridgway's pen, a credit to the author and to the 

 museum with wMch he is connected. 



It will have a place in the library of every working 

 ormthologist. 



IS THE SHRIKE A MIMIC? 



TWICE I have been struck with the vocal powers of 

 Lanius borealis. On Wednesday of tMs week the 

 morning was lovely here, and the bluebirds and English 

 sparrows, with occasionally a song sparrow and a nut- 

 hatch, seemed to vie with each other in making the day 

 pleasant. As I was listening for them, a new note came 

 upon my ear. I thought I had heard it before, and then 

 again it was so mixed and confused that I must confess I 

 became mixed too. Now it was a poor imitation of the 

 bluebirds that I heard in the distance, now it seemed like 

 the constant twitter of a few English sparrows that were 

 displaying themselves in a barnyard near by, and now it 

 remmded me of the quiet prattle of the bluejay when 

 nesting. What can it be? thought I. This is a new ex- 

 perience: am I to discover a vara avis when we have so 

 many distinguished ornithologists? But the question was 

 soon settled. I had only to ascend a rise in the road, 

 where I could look over the fence and the low growth 

 that grew by it, when off to my left I saw a Northern 

 shrike (Lanius borealis) perched upon the top of a button- 

 ball tree. He was looking in the direction of the blue- 

 birds and calling very much as they do at times, almost 

 incessantly. I listened for a long time and watched him 

 carefully. • There could be no mistake. He was calling 

 and gabbling and warbling and singing. I had never 

 heard one make such sounds before. 



The first time I heard a shrike make any attempt at 

 song was some years since, at about tins same season of 

 the year, m the early part of March. Then it was a very 

 bright and pleasant afternoon. I had just passed a swamp 

 where some goldfinches were calling to each other from 

 among the alder bushes, and a few song sparrows were 

 attempting to get up a concert before the sun went down. 

 On my right was a fine piece of meadow with here and 

 there a chestnut or hickory tree left standmg. From one 

 of these came the music. It was a warble interspersed 

 with the most pleasing calls of the redpoll or the gold- 

 finch. A sweeter music of its kind I do not tMnk I ever 

 heard. The ruby-crowned kinglet's is the only one I can 

 compare it to. But this time the voice was low and 

 sweet and prolonged, whereas on Wednesday it was 

 louder, metre abrupt and broken, and lacking "in those 

 fine touches that I listened to the first time. 



The question that arose in my mind was, has this bird 

 the power of mocking or miitating or calling other birds 

 to Mm? Does Ms form enable him to deceive too, and is 

 he a siren as well as a sMike? 



I would thank any of the readers of Forest and 

 Stream if they would tell me what then observations 

 have led them to conclude. I never remember of seeing 

 as many shrikes in this neighborhood as are around tMs 

 winter. A. H. G. 



Scarborough, N. Y., Feb. 25. 



Where Do Meadow Larks Winter?— In your last 

 number L. says that "it is a little surprismg that L. H. A. 

 should ask if meadow larks winter as far north as 

 Boston, masmuch as a stroll through the borders of any 

 salt marsh there would answer the question in the affirm- 

 ative." I have never had the pleasure of taking a stroll 

 through those marshes, but I have never seen the Meadow 

 lark in winter in either New York or New Jersey, but I 

 have seen them m large numbers in Georgia, both on the 

 mam land and on the Sea Islands, and last wmter, wMle 

 deer hunting on one of the islands, about forty miles 

 south of Savannah, the old cotton fields were alive with 

 meadow larks. If a few do remain m the north, as an 

 occasional woodcock may, the great majority migrate 

 with the woodcock to the south, and well to the south at 

 that. — Flavian. 



Hawk and Locomotive.— Last Thursday afternoon as 

 train No. 315 on the Loug Branch Railroad was nearing a 

 station called Bay way oh the Elizabeth, N. J., meadows, 

 the locomotive struck and killed a large hawk of the red- 

 tail species which was flying across the track. It is not 

 an uncommon thing for swallows to be killed on the 

 Newark meadows in the same way during their fall migra- 

 tions. Hawks have been very numerous in New Jersey 

 tMs winter.— J. L. K, (Perth Amboy, N. J., March 5). 



