July 14, 1887.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



531 



estimate the actual cost of the salmon that I captured in 

 the waters of Canada and New Brunswick; and I must 

 confess that when in Quebec, during the Rebellion, I 

 found a Washington dollar worth only about thirty cents 

 in coin, I began to contrast the joys of salmon fishing 

 with the question of ways and means. And the blight 

 that was thrown upon salmon fishing by the troubles of 

 the war have since been perpetuated by the advent upon 

 Canadian streams of certain sprigs of the English aris- 

 tocracy with the traditional bad manners and supremely 

 selfish instincts. 



As "pioneer fishing" is the title of this essay, it seems 

 quite appropriate that I should devote a paragraph to the 

 pioneer custom of spearing fish. For recreation, the cus- 

 tom cannot be defended, and yet I must confess that I 

 have frequently tried my hand with a three-pronged 

 scimiter. My first exploits in this line took place on the 

 river Raisin when I was a boy, when the game consisted 

 of mullet, pickerel and sturgeon, and while the fish were 

 running up stream in the spring, and their passage was 

 obstructed by the mill dams. And it was there, more- 

 over, where a sturgeon did his best to deprive, me of my 

 life by pulling me into the roai-ing stream. When once 

 spe ring pike in the Upper Mississippi with Chippewa 

 Indians, I saw a large fish captured, which, when opened, 

 was found to contain a blacksnake about three feet long. 

 On that day I lost my appetite for a pike steak. While 

 traveling down the Upper Tennessee, many years ago, 

 one of the natives tempted me on a torch light expedition 

 after salmon. I knew the man had never seen a real 

 salmon, so I went for the purpose of testing the correct- 

 ness of the name he used. We had some luck, and the 

 fish proved to be the pike-perch or pickerel, whereby the 

 folly was illustrated of calling things, and especially fish, 

 by improper names. And yet I know that the genuine 

 salmon has often been taken with the spear. I never had 

 the heart to commit that sacrilege, but I have seen the 

 Indians spearing salmon by torchlight from their canoes 

 in many of the streams of Canada and New Brunswick. 

 The sport was picturesque, of course, but very heathenish. 



In former years, when the black bass of Lake George 

 Were large and had not been frightened out of existence 

 by the fashionable villas on the surrounding shores, it 

 was quite common for the natives to spear them by torch- 

 fight. They did it in the spring when the fish were on 

 then spawning beds and entirely unfit to eat, and I have 

 never been able to find words to describe the rascality of 

 that kind of fishing. And it was, perhaps, because I had 

 a "finger in that pie" that I subsequently had the follow- 

 ing experience: I had gone with a companion, one 

 autumn evening, from Norwich, in Connecticut, to Pres- 

 ton Pond, for the purpose of spearing pike by torchlight. 

 Our conveyance was a wagon drawn by one horse, and on 

 reaching the pond we secured a suitable boat, packed in 

 it ova- traps, and as we supposed, carefully fixed our horse 

 in the corner of a lot near by. We were excited, fished 

 far into the night, caught many fish, and when tired out 

 went ashore to prepare for our return home. At first we 

 could not find our wagon nor the horse, but after a while 

 we did find the vehicle, but the fills were broken and the 

 whole concern very much of a wreck. We then rooted 

 out the horse out of some bushes, when we found that his 

 harness was all torn into fragments; and there we were, 

 with our horse quite as wretched as ourselves, far from 

 home, hungry as bears, and in a quandary that can hardly 

 be imagined. The only thing connected with our equi- 

 page that was not broken was the horse's neck, and as he 

 seemed ready for any change of circumstances, my friend 

 and I mounted upon his back, and in that predicament 

 returned to Norwich. 1 never visited Preston Pond a 

 second time excepting for the purpose of saving what I 

 could from the wreck, which had resulted from the gross- 

 est carelessness in the tie up of our horse and wagon. 



Charles Lamia n. 



ON THE TONGUE IN THE HUMMING- 

 BIRD. 



BY R. W. SHUFELDT, C.M.Z.S., ETC. 



THERE still seem to be two opinions in vogue relative 

 to the structure of the tongue in the hummingbirds. 

 In his second edition to the "Key to North American 

 Birds," Professor Elliott Coues tells us that "The tongue is 

 in effect a double-barreled tube, supposed to be used to 

 suck the sweets of flowers" (p. 458); while that painstaking 

 anatomist, for whom I have always entertained a great 

 admiration, W. MacGillivray, writes in the fourth volume 

 of Audubon's "Birds of America" in referring to the same 

 subject, that "The tongue, properly so called, moves in a 

 sheath, as in the woodpeckers; its length is 10 twelfths. 

 When it is protruded, the part beyond this at the base 

 appears fleshy, being covered with the membrane of the 

 mouth forming the sheath, but the rest of its extent is 

 horny, and presents the appearance of two cylinders 

 united, with a deep groove above and another beneath, 

 for the length of 3 twelfths, beyond which they be- 

 come flattened, concave above, thin-edged and lacerated 

 externally, thick-edged internally, and, although lying 

 parallel and in contact, capable of being separated. This 

 part, being moistened by the fluid of the slender salivary 

 glands, and capable of being alternately exserted and 

 retracted, thus forms an instrument for the prehension of 

 small insects, similar in so far to that of the woodpeckers, 

 although presenting a different modification in its horny 

 extremity, which is more elongated and less rigid. All 

 observers who have written on the tongue of the hum- 

 mingbirds, have represented it as composed of two cylin- 

 drical tubes, and the prevalent notion has been that the 

 bird sucks the nectar of flowers by means of these tubes. 

 But both ideas are incorrect. There are, it is true, two 

 cylindrical tubes, but they gradually taper away toward 

 the point, and instead of being pervious form two sheaths 

 for the two terminal parts or shafts of the glosso-hyal 

 portion of the tongue, which run nearly to the tip, while 

 there is appended to them externally a very thin-fringed 

 or denticular plate of horny substance. The bird obvi- 

 ously cannot suck, but it may thrust the tip of the tongue 

 into a fluid, and by drawing it back may thus procure a 

 portion. It is, however, more properly an organ for the 

 prehension of small insects, for which it is obviously well 

 adapted, and being exsertible to a great extent enable the 

 bird to reach at minute objects deep in the tubes and nec- 



taries of flowers. That a hummingbird may for a time 

 subsist on sugar and water, or any other saccharine fluid, 

 is probable enough: but it is essentially an insect-hunter, 

 and not a honey-sucker" (pp. 197 and 198). 



During the past year the writer has made a large 

 number of dissections upon a great many species of hum- 

 mingbirds, both adult specimens and embryos; and the 

 object of the present paper is to present his own view 

 upon the structure of their tongues, which has been the 

 outcome of those investigations. 



It has proved to be my good fortune to fully confirm 

 the researches in this direction made by MacGillivray, 

 whose very lucid account of them I have just quoted; and 

 I must dissent from Professor Coues's opinion, as I could 

 never believe that the tongue of a hummingbird is such 

 an "extraordinary structure" as he still seems to take it 

 to be. 



In examining into the real facts in the case the writer 

 would advise the investigator to proceed in the following 

 maimer. Having secured a fresh adult specimen of any 

 of our hummers, and placed it in alcohol for an hour or 

 so, in order to sufficiently harden the tissues for our dis- 

 section, carefully skin the head. First a word, however, 

 to those who may not be quite familiar with the bony 

 structure of a bird's tongue. To make this clear, all one 

 has to do is to take the tongue, say of a chicken, and that 

 by carefully removing the jaw, and taking not only that 

 part which shows in the mouth, but those delicate pro- 

 longations which extend backward from it, and curl 

 somewhat up behind the skull. These latter and the 

 mid-portions will be found to be covered with muscle 

 and other structures, all of which must be carefully 

 peeled off with a penknife. Then we have the bony 

 parts only left, or the hyoid arches, which will be found 

 to consist of the following separate parts, as shown in 

 my drawing of them: 



Fig. 1. 



Upper view of the head of the broad-tailed hummingbird (T. 

 plOi uecrcus) after the skin has been removed; cb. r, the epibran- 

 chials. (x 3). 



Fig. 2. 



Upper view of the tongue or huoidcan apparatus of tbe same 

 bird, immediately after removing it; a the point where the incision 

 is to be made to expose the glosso-hyals (x 2). 



Fig. 3. 



Upper view of the tongue-bones of a chicken; somewhat enlarged, 

 gh, glosso-hyal; ch, eeratohyal; br 1 , first basibranchial; bh. r, second 

 basibranchial; eb. r, cerato-branchials; and eb. r, epibranchials. 



First we find the bone and its cartilaginous tip (gh), 

 which were within the horny part of the tongue in the 

 mouth; then a medium bony rod, in two pieces, with a 

 posterior or hinder cartilaginous tip (&?-. 1 and bb. r.). In 

 some birds these pieces are united into one, while in 

 others the hinder piece is absent. Now we have two 

 limbs jutting out, one on either side, as shown in Fig. 3; 

 when spoken of together these are the thyro-hyals, and 

 are the parts which curl up behind the skull, and are so 

 wonderfully prolonged in most woodpeckers, and in our 

 hummingbirds. (See Fig. 2). 



To return then to our specimen from which we have re- 

 moved the skin, (Fig. 1), we have no trouble in finding at 

 once the epibranchials (eb. r) on top of the head. By "the 

 use of a sharp knife these can easily be lifted from their 

 position, and finally with a little care the entire tongue 

 removed from the head, when it will appear as I have 

 drawn it in Figure 2. We next bring to our aid a lens of 

 some considerable power, and after having examined our 

 specimen, and carefully compared it with MacGillivray's 

 account, which I quoted above, w r e may insert the deli- 

 cate point of our dissecting knife at a in the figure, when 

 by a gentle motion and a little well-directed force, the 

 horny part of the tongue is easily split clear to its tip. 

 Now our lens at once shows us that the cylinder (the 

 right one in the figure) although hollow, is completely 

 filled by the cartilaginous rod of the glosso-hyal, and is in 

 reality not hollow at all. 



In closing I would like to say that it must be evidentto 

 all that not a single structural character in the entire 

 head of this hmnmingbird agrees in any way with the 

 corresponding characters in the head of a swift, with 

 which latter birds they, the hummers, have heretofore 

 been associated in the same Order in classification. 

 Fort Winuate, New M«x., June 26. 



CHEEWINK. 



f i OR AL VILLE , Iowa, June 26.— Editor Forest and 

 \J Stream: I inclose you a bit of excellent poetry. It 

 was contributed to the Independent by S. B. McManns, of 

 Lima, Indiana, ;md is as follows: 



Tbe catbird sets on the wilier lim' 



As is bendin' over the run ter drink, 

 And yapps what I recken es seems ter him, 



A wonderful gallus song— chee-wink. 

 Et haiut' no meanin' es I can make out — 



Et may be Lating er elsewise Greek; 

 But he sets there a-singin' his tune like he mought 

 Ilev a dozen pianers inside of his cheek. 



But the brook likes the time, an' goes laffln' a laff 



Right under it, heartier, leastwise so I think, 

 An et keeps up a kind of a banterin' chaff. 



Fer ter hearten the singin,' chee-ioink, chee-iinnk ! 

 Eu the blue Johnny-iump-ups (they alius mind me 



Of my little, gal's eyes so levin' an 1 sweet) 

 They smiles like a human when they hears on the tree 



The catbird a-fiHin' the air complete. 



And the cowslips they grin 'n' git yellerer yet, 



Like es ef they was blushin' a new-fangled blush. 

 When they seen the "eheewink," in the willers rain-wet, 



Er hoppih' about in the dead elder brush, 

 En the sweet-William tops all a bendin' with blows, 



Nod back'ards 'n' for'ards a-keepin' of time 

 To the chirk little tune as it mellerly flows 



Out inter the air like a short-mef er'u rhyme. 



I hoe an 7 1 listen 'n' listen 'n' hoe;. 



That bird in the wilier a-pipin' away 

 Makes my worries go fast, an' my pleasures go slow, 



'N' the sun ter shine clear on the cloudiest day. 

 Et's a mighty small thing, I suppose, fer ter make 

 A man ter feel happy, folks most like may think, 

 But fer me ter bo cheerful, et don't alius take 

 More'n the catbird a-singin' chee-ivinh, cbee-wink! 

 Now isn't that just splendid? But what a pity he 

 doesn't take Forest and Stream, so that he might have 

 been a little better versed in natural history, and not 

 have spoiled it all by confounding the catbird with the 

 "eheewink." 1 sat down on reading it and wrote the 

 author that I thought it a pity his fine poetry should be 

 spoiled by so palpable an error; and he sent a reply which 

 I inclose: 



"Warsaw Daily Times, Warsaw, Ind., June 18, 1887. — 

 Mrs. Violet S. Williams: Mr. McManus handed me your 

 letter to answer. I certainly think you are mistaken in 

 regard to the catbird out here in Hoosierdom; that bird 

 says cheeivink as plainly as the whippoorwill. I am 

 pleased, however, to know that you are pleased with our 

 poet, and it may possibly be your good fortune some day to 

 listen to him, as he contemplates going on the lecture 

 platform. He is spending a few days in our city. I am, 

 most respectfully, your obedient servant, Quincy A. 

 HOSSLER." 



Now will you please say if the catbirds of Hoosierdom 

 or any other locality were ever known to hollow ehee- 

 wink? Violet S. Williams. 



[Although we have seen the catbird from the Atlantic 

 Coast to the Rocky Mountains, we have certainly never 

 heard it utter the call eheewink. The eheewink of the 

 Missouri River Valley and Rocky Mountain foothills 

 does, however, utter the characteristic catbird "mew." 

 The apparent mistake of the poet should be explained in 

 some way.] 



Robins Feed Their Young in Cages.— Cold Spring 

 Harbor, July 7.— Editor Forest and Stream: A short time 

 ago my terrier picked up a young robin which had fallen 

 from the nest, and as it seemed to be uninjured by the 

 dog, I took it down to the fish hatchery and put it in a 

 bird cage. It was about ready to fly, and therefore too 

 old to accept a man as its natural nurse, and declined all 

 overtures of food. Knowing that it would starve under 

 these circumstances, I thought of trying to see if the old 

 birds would feed it. All of my men were of the opinion 

 that the old ones would poison it, a theory I had heard 

 from boyhood; and to test it, the cage was placed in a 

 lilac bush near where the bird was found, and the old 

 ones fed it regularly for a week. It grew strong and fat, 

 and thinking that I had carried the experiment far 

 enough, and that the old ones would soon abandon it, I 

 opened the door at night and in the morning it was gone. 

 Both the parent birds fed the young robin, and one or 

 both of them could be seen at the cage or about it almost 

 every day. As the consumption of worms by the young 

 robin is vastly greater than any one would imagine who 

 has never attempted to raise any, it is probable that in 

 the alleged case of poisoning of the young, they might 

 have died from starvation. Who knows that old birds 

 poison their 3 r oung when confined in cages? and what 

 poisons do they use? — Fred Mather. 



New Mexican Squirrels.— With reference to his arti- 

 cle on New Mexican squirrels, which recently appeared 

 in Forest and Stream, Dr. Shufeldt desires us to say for 

 him that for the moment the prairie dog (Cynomys colum- 

 bianus), which occurs all over this region, slipped his 

 mind as a representative squirrel of the Fort Wingate 

 fauna. Its name should at least have been mentioned, 

 even if its far better known habits rendered unnecessary 

 the more extended description bestowed upon the other 

 three species mentioned in his list. 



Albino Hedgehog.— Boston, July 10.— In regard to 

 communication from Mr. C. F. Richardson, in issue of 

 July 7, I have a stuffed specimen of a perfect albino 

 hedgehog, captured some years since in Stoddard, a small 

 town in southwest New Hampshire. It was the first one 

 I had seen, but on referring the subject to Prof. Agassiz, 

 he informed me that they were not as rare as I had sup- 

 posed, and stated that specimens existed in all our 

 museums.— E. M. Messenger. 



