472 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 23, 1887. 



caused great surprise to the Boers, as it was the first re- 

 peating arm they had ever seen. After firing awhile at 

 50yds. and 100yds. ranges, an ant-hill was pointed out, 

 which the Boer said was 300ft., and laughingly asked if I 

 could hit it, not believing that so light a looking weapon 

 could be effective at such a distance. Adjusting the 

 sights for that distance, I lay down, and resting the rifle 

 across the pole of the cart, drew a fine sight and pulled 

 the trigger. Fortunately I was successful, and as a puff 

 of dust arose, caused by the bullet cutting a channel 

 through the apex of the' heap, one of the Boers who was 

 watching yelled out "Kek! Kelcr* and started on a dead 

 run for the target. On reaching it he signalled for the 

 balance of the party to join him, when he told us that as 

 the bullet struck the ant-heap he detected something dart 

 around it and disappear, which was evidently a porcu- 

 pine (Hystrix cristata) that had been sunning itself on 

 the side opposite to ourselves, and being disturbed by the, 



Sing of the bullet had taken refuge in the hole mined un- 

 erneath by a Cape ant bear (Orycteropus capensis) for 

 the purpose of feeding on the ants. Pointing to the tracks 

 to prove his assertion he called to one of the Kaffirs to 

 bring the ox- whip from the cart, around the butt of which 

 he wound his cotton handkerchief and thrust the long 

 bamboo down the sloping hole. On withdrawal several 

 quills were found sticking in the handkerchief, which 

 proving he was right, preparations were made for an 

 attempt at a capture. A tin-lined case in the cart was 

 emptied, and with the picks and shovels taken to the ant 

 hill, when the whip was again passed down the slanting 

 hole and a measurement taken so as to s'nk directly over 

 the porcupine. This was quickly done in the light sandy 

 soil, as the depth was only some four or five feet. After 

 the shaft was thoroughly opened it was found that the 

 hole was tenanted by two porcupines instead of one as 

 supposed, and a few vigorous punches started them up 

 the incline. A Boer then jumped down and stopped the 

 slant behind them with a large b indie of grass, which as 

 the hole was enlarged was pressed up the incline until 

 there was sufficient space to use a pick handle as a ram- 

 mer, when the porcupines were shoved into the tin-lined 

 case which had been turned over the entrance. The lid 

 was then passed underneath, box righted and the top 

 nailed fast, leaving a small slit on one side for air. The 

 whole thing was managed so deftly and quickly that, 

 coupled with the zebra catching incident of the preced- 

 ing day I was compelled to acknowledge that my friends 

 were certainly adepts in veldtcraf t. 



That night when the Boers rolled up in their karosses 

 underneath the cart, I took to my bed above, very much 

 inclined to spend the balance of my days in a country 

 where, if the oxen were unreliable, one would be relieved 

 of the worry of starched bosoms and weekty laundry bills, 

 and the addition of a paper collar and soiled shooting 

 jacket to a flannel shirt and moleskin trousers would 

 transform one into a perfect swell. 



•Boer for "Look! Look!" 



Frank J. Thompson. 



THE NEPISIGUIT.-II. 



AFTER sleeping the sleep of the just, bright and early 

 next morning we started on our exploration. I fan- 

 cied I traced an amused expression on the faces of the 

 guides as they poled us along. Here, full of hope and 

 enthusiasm, we were pushing our way up through a coun- 

 try where the foot of a white man had seldom trod (this 

 last sentence comes in like a very old friend without 

 knocking at the door), turning our backs deliberately on 

 the salmon pools of the Nepisiguit. The river flowed 

 quietly along, the country was wild, unbroken, fresh from 

 the hand of its Maker. Here and there were seen the 

 for provisions. Trout there were and no end of them; 

 marks of the camp of the lumbermen, or a bear-proof house 

 we could dangle our lines over the side of the canoe, 

 Bkitter the red-ibis along the water and toss the fish into 

 the boat. "We struck Nine-mile Brook about lunch time, 

 and went into camp "below the 40," the streams running 

 into the river here being numbered 40, 41, 42, 43 and 44. 

 Eating, fishing, sleeping, meditating— this dolcefarniente 

 existence agreed wonderfully well with us, I began to be 

 rather alarmed about myself. Born under a lean star, 

 the circumference of my waist was rapidly increasing. 

 We poled up the river about 15 miles and had an addition 

 to the f amfiy in the persons of Tom Narvey and Noel 

 Prisk, the latter a fine looking man about 50 years old, 

 and chief of the Indians who live near Bathurst. He and 

 his son-in-law Tom were on a hunt after beaver, bear and 

 moose. We invited them to dinner and then pushed on 

 to Indian Falls. Here the river comes foaming over the 

 rocks into a deep pool, and here we had to make another 

 portage and go into camp for the night. Jjkrly next 

 morning I threw in the pool, and at the first cast caught 

 a trout weighing 41bs. ; the next cast brought out No. 2, of 

 3£lbs. , and I was high-hook. 



This Saturday morning, having taken leave of our 

 friends, we struck a trout pool, where we would have been 

 justified in taking leave of our senses ; such fishing none 

 of us had ever seen before, nor ever expect to see again. 

 It is marked in my field book as the whitest of days. The 

 pool was called the Devil's Elbow, and was just below 

 Bear Island. The river takes a turn here, forming a sort 

 of an elbow and a pool that would delight the eye of any 

 fisherman. The guides had told us fabulous stories of the 

 number and size of the trout, and here they were in full 

 confirmation. Our canoes were drawn up on the beach. 

 We three tossed in our flies, and in less than 15 minutes 

 we had 60 odd pounds of trout, spread out on the beach, 

 about the size of shad. Stop ! We have enough, and more 

 now than we can eat. And stop we did. But how long 

 would those fish have remained there if the place had been 

 more accessible ? They would have been cleaned out on 

 sight. The pool swarmed with them. As fast as we could 

 throw our flies in, and we used two on our leaders, the fish 

 would seize them and jump and fight for them, and the 

 smallest fish we took was a 2-pounder ; they would run 

 right along 3 and 4-pounders. 



And here "Truthful James" rises to explain and the 

 truth to maintain. So much has been said and sung about 

 deep and darkened pools, crystal waters, gurgling founts, 

 the mad rush of the fish, their speckled beauty and their 

 gleaming sides, the whirr of the reel and the soul-stirring 

 emotions of the angler, to say nothing of the length of 

 time in catching such a beauty— two hours and ten min- 

 utes — and so on ad lib., that he feels called on to say that, 

 with three-jointed ordinary trout rods and Conroy's rig , 

 we quietly drew these five fish out of this pool and laid 



them down on the beach; and that all this was done in 

 the most expeditious manner. I am not bragging; here 

 we were, graduates of old Columbia, giving the trout Hail 

 Columbia. Three old Knickerbockers, enjoying ourselves 

 like boys out of school, keenly alive to the wonderful 

 novelty of the scene and the beauty of the woods and 

 river; not one of us but what would love, and does so 

 still— 



"To Bes the man of care 



Tate pleasure in a toy, 

 To see him tow or ride, 



And tread the grass with joy, 

 Or throw the circling salmon fly 



As fusty as a boy." 



After a famous dinner off of these giants, I went off 

 with one of the guides to look for beaver; long we sought 

 him and we found him not, but the woods were a con- 

 stant delight to me, and I felt no disappointment. On 

 our return we came to a small stream, which my guide 

 said he w y ould carry me over, so I climbed up on his 

 shoulders and perched up there like Robin Hood and 

 Little John. Away we went — a stumble, a plunge, a 

 wild shriek, splash, dash, and away I went head first into 

 a villainous slough. What a mess. Oh, John! John! 

 I had a hard time to make myself presentable, and K. 

 and Jim, who had been strolling through the woods in 

 various directions, were vastly amused at the figure I cut. 

 No wonder. On we go up the river, dine at "44," our 

 destination Silver Brook, wdiich we fail to reach, and so 

 camp at the South Branch of the Forks. Though there 

 might be some monotony in the daily description of our 

 fishing and camping; of our fights with that pest of the 

 woods, the black fly, and how we suffered from their 

 poison, yet the time never hung heavy on our hands, 

 we never tired an instant of our sport. Here we are by 

 Silver Brook. Bald Mountain and Squaw's Cap loom up 

 before us; the scenery grand, wild, savage; the river 

 winding along the base of the mountains; bear, beaver, 

 moose tracks plenty; so are the cranberries and blue 

 berries, of which the bear is very fond; trout in 

 any quantity: pork and beans beginning to be valued. 

 We pass a beaver dam, which well nigh obstructs our 

 passage up the river, the active little workmen having 

 nearly thrown it across the river. We pass a bear trap, a 

 beaver and otter trap, and trail of Indians. Here we are 

 at the "First Lake" at the headwaters of the Nepisiguit. 

 We paddle through three lakes, each larger than the 

 other, and go into camp on Caribou Isle, ninety miles 

 from Bathurst. Our tents were soon up, fires going, 

 everything in order, and leaning my gun against a tree 

 close by my tent I joined my companions at grub, and 

 then turned in. And here I made a mistake I have re- 

 gretted all my lifetime, for instead of seeing my gun in 

 good order I left it there, and mark what happened: 

 Early the next morning, while K. and Jim were still 

 asleep, I went down with the guides to get some trout for 

 our breakfast. While fishing from our canoe, not far 

 from shore, suddenly the bushes opened, and there stood 

 a bull moose, weighing over 8001bs. , looking calmly at us 

 from the margin of the lake. What a magnificent animal 

 he was! Head up, nostrils snuffing the breeze, expanded 

 horns, motionless, he stood there looking at us as tres- 

 passers. The guide seized my gun, quietly cocked, and 

 aimed, and fired. Snap went the cap of one barrel. Snap 

 went the cap of the other. No report; and nothing went 

 off but the moose, and how he did go when he got started; 

 crashing through the bushes; and that was the last of him. 

 The guide fairly howled with disappointment, and I 

 didn't blame him, but I learned a lesson, at a bitter cost, 

 I never forgot. K. and Jim, who was a good shot, 

 walked over to the headwaters of the Tobique, and shot 

 three grouse. I had not yet sufficiently got over the loss 

 of thai moose. The guides told us many a moose story, 

 how to hunt him, where to shoot him, either behind the 

 foreshoulder, side shot, or dead on through the jugular 

 vein. They had before said the moose would not run at 

 first sight of man. He will take one good look first. There 

 was plenty of time to kill this fellow, if it had not been 

 for my neglect. I walked out in the afternoon and shot a 

 kingfisher and a rabbit and a grouse, (country boys al- 

 ways call them partridges), and I carefully constructed a 

 fly out of flick and feather, that bore no resemblance to 

 anytlving "in the heavens above or the earth beneath or 

 the water under the earth." While gazing lovingly at 

 this evolution of my inner consciousness, K. said, "What 

 in heaven's name are you going to do with that thing ?" 

 Jim laughed outright, "Friend of my early days, are you 

 going to heave the log ?" " Now don't be jealous of me, 

 gentlemen ; if you do not know how to tie a fly don't 

 laugh at the man who does. My boat is on the"— 

 "Stop him!" So off we go in our canoes for trout. 

 I am willing to swear to the following affidavit: 

 At the first throw, when my fly struck the water with 

 a mighty splash, a 21b. trout grabbed it on sight and. 

 I yanked him into the boat, released him with some 

 difficulty, the threads with which the materials were 

 lashed together probably got jammed in his teeth, and 

 launched forth again into the deep; up came No. 2, twin 

 brother to No. f. You couldn't tell them apart. This 

 right under the nose of the scoffers, who hadn't caught 

 anything yet. "Gentlemen, are you convinced?" "We 

 are," and K. begged me to give him "the monstrosity" to 

 take home with hini, and present to Conroy. The fish 

 actually tore that fly to pieces, wrenched and pried him 

 apart, and we left him "alone in his glory." I felt his 

 loss so keenly I never replaced him by another, he was 

 my first, my only love. 



So the time flew swiftly by, and at last came the day 

 to say good-bye and pack up for our return. Down stream 

 is easy rapid work; up stream "aye, there's the rub." 

 We floated down to Bear Island and came across Prisk 

 and Narvey again. They had killed a large moose, caught 

 a bear in a trap, shot an otter, nine beaver and an animal 

 they called "Lucifer" — he looked like the devil or worse. 

 Head like a cat and legs like a kangaroo. We bought 

 some moose meat from the old chief. Though shot might 

 go through it, we could not get our teeth through; but 

 moose meat at times is good and tender. Bidding them 

 good-bye we pushed on down the river. 



At Indian Falls we stopped over night and had a visit 

 from the irrepressible Tom, apparently in great distress, 

 his venerable father-in-law (not mother-in-law) had 

 tumbled off a log into the river and lost his ammunition. 

 We provided him — though honestly we did not believe a 

 word he said — with powder and shot, and bought his otter 

 and bear skins. He also showed us that night how to call 

 the moose. "But will he come when you do call him?" 



"Oh, yes." He didn't put in an appearance, and I have a 

 much higher appreciation of that animal. Any beast that 

 could be deluded by the agonizing, mournful, Wagnerian 

 sounds that Tom Narvey produced from his birchen pipe 

 deserves "to be pulled clown and shot on sight." I agree 

 with General Dix. 



"O for a blast on that dread horn 



On Fontarabian echoes born." 

 No comparison. Here we are again down among the 

 salmon and the grilse. Four grilse and a 10-pound salmon 

 are scooped up out of the pool at Pabineau Falls; and we 

 make up our minds to run the rapids. Next to ice boat- 

 ing, of which I will tell you one of these days, I vote for 

 the rapids. We came down through a succession of them; 

 and what fun it was. One man in the bow with paddle 

 and pole, another similarly equipped in the stern, the 

 boats managed with great skill, the water tumbling, dash- 

 ing, foaming. Here a rock and there a rock — Scylla and 

 Charybdis on a reduced scale. This was exciting sport. 

 K. led the way, Jim next, I brought up the rear. Ah! 

 dear Jim, I hope you have long siuce forgiven me for not 

 exchanging guides with you on this our "rattling run." 

 The court didn't see it; not much. Down we flew through 

 Round Rock Fall, Busk's Fall, Willis Fall and the Roll, 

 this last one is well named, for Jim rolled like a flash out 

 of his canoe. Of all things to happen is the unexpected. 

 Incredible, Jim's guides, young fellows, lost their heads, 

 then their paddles, so they hung on to the canoe like grim 

 death. Up goes my friend like a rocket, lights on a rock, 

 which he clings to, and away goes the canoe, end over 

 end, almost over another rock. Away bob up and down 

 the guides, while pots, pans, kettles, rods and guns "were 

 in one huge burial blent." Some sink, some go bobbing 

 around. I had dashed past Jim like a flash, though 1 

 called to him, needlessly, to hang on, and floating quietly 

 in the pool at the bottom of the rapids I surveyed the 

 scene of the disaster. There was nothing to be done, save 

 to quit fishing for salmon and fish for Jim's baggage, the 

 most of which we recovered. We rescued our friend off 

 of the rock, and landing just above Rough Water Falls, 

 which the guides said were too rough to go through safely 

 (though I offered to tip my guide -well to try it with a 

 canoe with only ourselves in) we spread everything out 

 on the rocks to dry, rigged Jim up in a dry suit and 

 walked in safe and Sound to Beuiah Packard's. 



Here we had a grand spread, paid off our guides, gave 

 them our flies and fishing duds; and here, as a wind up to 

 our frolic, occurred an incident that was long remem- 

 bered. K. was a much more scientific fisherman than 

 either his brother or myself, and much more dignified; in 

 fact, great dignity is not my strong point. I have knocked 

 around this ball of earth until my stock has somewhat 

 given out. K. is, without any exception, in the woods or 

 out of it, one of the neatest men imaginable; Haggard's 

 major would be nowhere. He would step out of his tent 

 in the morning as fresh as a daisy, and an object of un- 

 limited admiration to our simple guides. When, there- 

 fore, in paying off our men, one of them burst into tears 

 and howls of lamentation, crazy with grief: "J'ai perdu 

 tous ce que j'avais," K. found out that his guide's cow, 

 during his absence, had broken her neck. Milk and 

 potatoes are all these Kanucks live on. A cow is a for- 

 tune. K. is kind-heartedness personified. "Packard, 

 what will a cow cost?" "A fairly good one will cost you 

 $25." We voted this not much to rescue a man from 

 such an abyss of woe; chipped in and bought the man a 

 new cow. Presto! change. With smiles and tears of joy 

 this unkempt, dirty-looking guide dashed at my quiet, 

 dignified, well-dressed friend quicker than a trout at a 

 fly, flung his arms around his neck and covered him with 

 kisses. You can faintly imagine the result. I got the 

 worth of my money right back. So we bid good-by to 

 host and guides, and so our trip to the famous Nepisiguit 

 fades away into the past. Capt. Clayton. 



Htdb Park, N. Y. 



Address all communications to the Forest and Stream Pub. Co. 



NOTES ON NEW MEXICAN SQUIRRELS. 



VERY recently a number of people interested in our 

 mammalian fauna, have written me with the view 

 of obtaining information in regard to the several species 

 of squirrels which I may have chanced to observe in the 

 vicinity of this place, and this brief article is wiittenwith 

 the vi<\v of placing on record a few notes respecting the 

 three species of these interesting animals, all of which 

 during the past few years it has been my good fortune to 

 have collected here at Fort Wingate. The three species 

 to which I have reference are: (1) Abert's squirrel (Sci- 

 nnis aberti, Woodhouse); (3) the Arizona squirrel (S. ar i- 

 zonensis, Cones); and (3) the Gila chipmunk {Tamiasasiat- 

 icus dorsalis, (Baud) Allen). 



Two years ago Science (No. 123) very kindly published 

 for me a short account of a specimen of Abert's squirrel, 

 which I had at the time collected here, and in that article 

 were presented both measurements and description of the 

 individual in question. It was likewise illustrated by a 

 life-size head of this sqtiirrel, a female, being a reproduc- 

 tion of my own drawing, which I had made directly from 

 the specimen soon after it was shot. As many of the 

 readers of Forest and Stream have possibly not seen 

 this illustration, I reproduce it in the present connection, 

 confident as I am that this splendid animal will well re- 

 pay a second glance from those already familiar with the 

 drawing, for it is a faithful likeness of the original, and I 

 can only trust that those who have not yet chanced to 

 see it, will be pleased with the figure. 



In my description of the specimen in Science, I said 

 that the entire upper parts were of a grizzly iron gray. 

 Lower halves of inner aspects of ear-tufts, and a median 

 broad stripe from shoulders to near root of tail, of a brilli- 

 ant chestnut. Ear-tufts large, composed of straight black 

 hairs. Entire under parts, borders of tail, eircum-ocular 

 stripe, and upper sides of feet pure white. A rather broad 

 dividing line at either side, between Avhite of under parts 

 and gray above, jetty black. Central hairs of tail for its 

 entire length, also black, forming a mid-third stripe down 

 the member. Claws, horn-color and curved. Whiskers 

 composed of six to ten black stiff hairs. 

 There is a splendid black phase of variety of this squir- 



