Feb. 14, 1889.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



tough, wiry lad of eighteen, got up and bade us good 

 morning. The only toilet he had to perform was to pull 

 on his boots, to the heels of which were attached a pair 

 of heavy Mexican spurs. As I afterward saw, this boy 

 was an adept on horseback. He was literally at home in 

 the saddle. He was employed by the stockmen during 

 the annual round-up, and was said to excel in the busi- 

 ness, a fact of which he and Ms father were quite proud. 

 Finally one of the younger children woke up, and dug his 

 fists into the ribs of his brother next to him, who would 

 whine and fight back, and at last all got up and com- 

 menced their regular amusement of throwing the lasso 

 over the chickens and dogs, playing cards, and other In- 

 dian games. One little mink-eyed imp slipped up behind 

 me, and with considerable skill threw a slip-noosed rope 

 over my head, pulled it tight, and quickly wound the 

 other end around the porch post. At my efforts to get 

 the rope off my head his joy seemed unbounded. It was 

 not long before our host appeared and asked us to take a 

 drink. Two shepherds were stretched out on the floor, 

 and they got up and joined my host and my fellow pas- 

 senger at the counter. I let myself down in their estima- 

 tion by declining all invitations. You cannot insult a 

 Western man by refusing to drink with him, but you can 

 excite the deepest contempt for yourself by so doing, and 

 at the same time convince him that you are an anomaly 

 in human nature. 



Equally universal, although not especially confined to 

 the "West to be sure, is the drinking nabit. Throughout 

 the North and East the man who never takes a chink is 

 not uncommon, but in the cowboy country the man who 

 under any circumstances declines, is a curiosity. At 

 every stage stopping place and at remote points where a 

 pretense for a store could be had, beer at fifty cents per 

 bottle is a staple article of commerce. 1 was repeatedly 

 invited and urged by everybody, for Western people are 

 generous even when' beer is twenty -five cents per glass, 

 but I persistently declined on every occasion, and al- 

 though I ran the risk of incurring their displeasure at 

 times. I imagined I was growing somewhat in then- favor 

 by my steady adherence to principle, as I was beginning 

 to be looked upon as resolute in that particular. On one 

 occasion, however, I resolved to make an exception to my 

 temperance principles. On my arrival at Rawlins after 

 the night in the stage before referred to, I naturally felt 

 somewhat grateful to the driver who had brought me 

 safely through the fearful storm. If there ever was a 

 time when "something to warm a fellow up" seemed 

 fitting and appropriate, the morning after an all night's 

 stage ride with the thermometer near zero seemed the 

 proper occasion, and why should I not show my appreci- 

 ation to the driver in the generous Western style? In 

 this state of mind when we arrived at the hotel, I ex- 

 pressed to him my gratitude and, leading the way to the 

 bar asked him, "what he would have," To my utter as- 

 tonishment and everlasting shame he remarked politely, 

 "I am very much obliged to you, but 1 never drink." 

 What an astonishing surprise, and what a stunning re- 

 buke ! A stage driver on the plains of Wyoming who 

 never takes a drink. Pass the chromo 1 0. L, S. 



Chattanooga, Term. 



[to be continued] 



HABITS OF THE OTTER. 



THE otter subsists almost entirely on fish, and its 

 haunts are often discovered by its excrements, which 

 consist chiefly of fish bones and scales. 



They winter in the lakes and large ponds, and we often 

 see where they come out on to the ice through a rock 

 hole, or where there is a current which keeps the ice thin 

 or open, and bring a fish out and eat their meal in the 

 open ah: then roll and play awhile and return to the 

 water. These spells of coming out on the surface of lake 

 or pond are more frequent in stormy weather, while it is 

 snowing or soon after. They seem to know the state of 

 the atmosphere as well as a man. 



They breed in bogs far inland, or at the head of streams 

 away up among the mountains, in the most secluded and 

 unfrequented places in the deep forest. I have more than 

 once run on to these breeding places, or summer homes, 

 of the otter, while following the bear and other animals 

 through the mountains; and have sometimes seen them 

 with their young, but could never accurately count them. 

 The little fellows were always so lively, and rolled and 

 tumbled over each other in such a promiscuous way, that 

 I could not tell whether there were four or five of them, 

 but certainly as many as foul, They are beautiful little 

 creatures, shiny black, and active as concentrated life. 



In the early days of September, the mother otter, 

 accompanied by her young, who have then become two- 

 thirds grown, starts down the brook, at the headwaters of 

 which they have spent their summer, toward the pond or 

 lake into which it flows. On this journey they do not 

 hurry, but stop for days together at the best fish pools 

 and spawning places, to regale themselves and feast on 

 the delicious trout in their native waters. It is also on 

 these journeys that new slides are made, and old ones 

 worked over. An "otter slide" is where they dig the 

 moss over on the bank of a brook or other water, descend- 

 ing to the water's edge, and in one or more places slide 

 straight down into the water, sometimes climbing up 

 and sliding down the same path, and at other times going 

 up one way and down another. These slides are usually 

 near fish pools, where they bring their fish to land to eat. 

 They often remain for days at these places, and here the 

 practiced hunter sets his traps and secures his game. 

 The fall is usually spent by the otter on these streams, 

 working down into larger waters to winter; and when 

 the lakes and ponds clear of ice in the spring, they visit 

 every slide around the shores, then return to their inland 

 summer retreats. 



The track an otter makes in the snow is different from 

 that of any other animal. They make several jumps, 

 then slide on their stomachs quite a distance if down hill 

 or on a level, but if up hill, a short distance. They sel- 

 dom, if ever, walk or run, except as I have described. 

 They sometimes make long journeys from one lake or 

 pond or river to another, crossing mountains or high- 

 lands, but always going the shortest cut, and taking 

 advantage of any natural formation of the earth which 

 may present itself, as if they were well acquainted with 

 the lay of the land. 



When approached by man on these occasions, and away 

 from their nativo element, they will dig into the snow 

 and go some distance under it, and it is a smart job to 

 find and kill them, and when they find themselves cor- 

 nered they will fight savagely. I kept one in confine- 

 ment one winter, but did not succeed in learning much of 

 their habits, He used to make a grunting noise when he 

 felt on good terms with himself, and at other times a 

 barking sound. 



The Indians called them the "shining ones," I suppose 

 because they present such a. glossy appearance. They 

 appear to be a migratory animal, not stopping long in a 

 place, or making any certain home, but making a tour of 

 certain ponds, rivers and lakes, and returning, going 

 these rounds from year to year. They can live a long 

 time under water, and in winter, when crossing a lake 

 under the ice, occasionally put their nose against the ice 

 to get breath. 



In the fall of 1848 I was trapping and shooting around 

 Metalluk Pond, and had several traps set for otter on the 

 brooks running through the upper bog into the pond. 

 Tending my traps one day I discovered that some animal 

 had got caught in one of them which was set on an otter- 

 slide, and had broken the chain and gone off with the 

 trap. I tended all my traps in that section, and started 

 around the pond for home, and when crossing another 

 inlet of the pond, about a mile distant from the missing 

 trap, I discovered otter signs, which I immediately fol- 

 lowed along, up the brook. These signs consisted of 

 tearing up the moss near the water, etc. I continued a 

 long way up through the bog, which was interspersed 

 with occasional hackmatack trees, and small shrubs, 

 ferns, etc., the signs growing fresher and more frequent. 

 Presently, in a small pool of clear water, which seemed 

 to be a boiling spring ten or twelve yards in diameter, I 

 saw an otter rise from the bottom, and swim a few yards, 

 and then dive back, I hid behind some brash, and 

 waited, but did not have to wait long, for in a few mo- 

 ments up came the otter again, and I let go at him a 

 charge of large shot. He immediately sank down, and I 

 cocked the other barrel, and waited again a long time, 

 and, as he did not appear, I got a long pole, dragged the 

 bottom of the pool and soon hooked up a nice large otter — 

 dead, and attached to my trap I had* lost. 



One morning while camping on C. Bluff, near 0. Pond, 

 I arose at daylight, stepped into my canoe and paddled 

 down the pond on a trip of discovery. I had not gone 

 far when I saw a line of bubbles about ten rods from the 

 shore and parallel to it; this I followed, and not far ahead 

 saw an otter come up. T immediately drew a bead on 

 him and pulled; a roar that resounded many times among 

 the near-by and far-off mountains and shook my frail 

 skiff told the story, and the otter sank out of sight. In 

 less than five minutes, and while I w r as trying to look 

 down to see where I shot at the otter, another, or the 

 same one came up a few yards away and crawled out 

 upon a sunken log, one end of which lay above water. 



My first charge was large shot, but my remaining 

 charge was No. 6 for partridge; my gun was a muzzle- 

 loader, I had then never seen a breechloader. 



I unhooked at once and took my chance, as I was in 

 the habit of doing. The otter floundered about in the 

 water, and I paddled with all possible haste and took 

 him into the boat while he was actively alive. This was 

 a fine large specimen and I felt well paid for my morn- 

 ing hunt, as the pelt brought me ten dollars. 



By observations since I am convinced that they always 

 send up those bubbles while swimming under water. 

 Another fact is that under certain conditions they always 

 sink when shot, but never until they are dead. 



On a certain day one fall, I think near the year 1850, 

 as I was standing on the shore of Cranberry Bog "Pond, I 

 saw a large flock of ducks near the middle of the pond, 

 and soon after discovered three otters in front of me, but 

 not near enough to shoot. While watching the maneu- 

 vers of these otters, and scanning the pond for other dis- 

 coveries, the otters started down the pond, in a straight 

 line for the ducks. The old leader struck out lively, 

 leaving his mates far behind, and as he neared the ducks 

 he dove, and presently I saw one of the ducks disappear 

 beneath the surface, after considerable of a struggle; the 

 remainder of the flock rising and flying away in great 

 commotion. Tire otter had gone under the flock and 

 selected a certain duck and pulled him under. A few 

 minutes later the otter made his appearance near the 

 south shore of the pond, with the duck in his mouth. I 

 concluded from this that they are not entirely fish eaters. 

 They will likewise prey on the muskrat— I suppose as a 

 change of diet — or when driven to it by a scarcity of fish 

 and pangs of hunger. J. G. R. 



Bethel, Maine. 



Black Robin.— Editor Forest and Stream : A friend of 

 mine last summer on returning frorn the country brought 

 a nest of four young robins and divided them among his 

 friends, one of whom was unf ortunate enough to get one 

 that in a short time turned black as a crow. He accused 

 us of playing a joke on him, and will not believe that he 

 got a robin. I myself have never heard of nor seen such 

 a thing before. Will you please state whether it is a 

 common occurrence with them and what is the cause of 

 it. — Subscriber. [This black condition of plutnage of 

 birds normally varicolored is called melanism. It is not 

 nearly so common as albinism, but seems to occur more 

 often in the robin than in other birds. We have known 

 of several instances of it in this species. The condition 

 arises from an excess of coloring matter in the pigment 

 cells of the skin.] 



Natural History Specimens.— Directions for sending 

 specimens from abroad. Mark the package as follows: 

 "Natural History Specimens. Smithsonian Institution, 

 Washington, D. C, U. S. A., Care Collector of Customs, 

 New York City, N. Y." For the National Museum mark 

 it: "Natural History Specimens. U. S. National Museum, 

 Washington, D. C, TJ. S. A., Care Collector of Customs, 

 New York City, N. Y." Send a bill of lading either to 

 the Smithsonian or the National Museum. 



Sparrows and Barb Wire.— San Francisco, Cab— 

 Coming home to-day I noticed something hanging from 

 one of the barbs on my barb wire fence. I found that a 

 sparrow had, while trying to fly between the strands of 

 wire, struck its shoulder against one of the sharp barbs 

 and become transfixed. The bird was dead,— A. W. D. 



Biological Society of Washington. — The 136th 

 regular meeting was held on Saturday evening, Jan. 9. 

 Mr. B. F, Galloway described one of the diseases of the 

 sycamore, known as leaf blight, which is due to a parasi- 

 tic fungus of widespread distribution, very destructive 

 effects, and unknown method of propagation. Dr. Thos, 

 Taylor exhibited a new freezing microtome. Mr. A, Ai 

 Crozier gave a very interesting account of foreign pollen 

 on fruit, with particular reference to the effects of cross- 

 fertilization in the squash, apple and orange. Mr. J. N. 

 Rose sketched the geographical destribution of the Um- 

 belHferm in a paper which showed evidence of patient and 

 exhaustive study. Dr. C. Hart Merriam described a new 

 and remarkable vole from British Columbia. This little 

 animal would usually be styled a meadow mouse, but as 

 these are not closely l-elated to the mice, Dr. Merriam 

 prefers to designate them by a name current in Europe, 

 though scarcely known in the United States at present. 

 The new vole was obtained by Dr. Geo. Dawson at Kam- 

 loops. Externally it is not distinguishable from the 

 common Arvicola; but the dentition is so peculiar that a 

 new subgenus, Phenacomys, has been created to receive 

 it. The species is called Phenacomys intermedius. The 

 last under molar tooth is very large, and shaped like a 

 broad horseshoe with an emargination in front and a 

 supplemental arm midway between the other two. 



Golden-Winged Woodpecker in Massachusetts. — 

 Editor Forest and Stream: In reply to Mr. George 

 Hughes Coues, I would say that the golden- winged 

 woodpecker is a winter resident in Massachusetts. I see 

 large flocks of these birds during October and November, 

 and then the food supply is ants and other insects. Later 

 the flocks go south, leaving a few birds to try the winter. 

 I have taken much pains to ascertain their food in winter 

 months, or when the ground is covered with snow, and 

 find it to consist largely of berries. The chokeberry 

 (Pyrus arbutifolia), black alder (Hex verticillata), and the 

 barberry retain their berries through the winter. These 

 berries, together with borers hammered from dead trees, 

 make up the winter food of the golden-wing. — Hermit. 



Winter Woodpeckers of Michigan.— Editor Forest 

 and Stream: A flock of six or eight golden-winged wood- 

 peckers (Colaptes auratus) were seen twelve miles south 

 of this city about Jan. 30. They had probably been in 

 this State all winter; one was seen Dec. 10. ' The red- 

 headed and red-bellied woodpeckers are occasionally seen 

 in this vicinity in winter, though I know of none this 

 winter. The hairy and downy and pileated are as com- 

 mon in winter as in summer. I obtained a fine specimen 

 of the last at the market Dec. 12, where I have seen them 

 before. The fanners call them woodcock, and this ac- 

 counts in part for their finding a place among the game, 

 — E. L. Moseley (Grand Rapids, Mich., Feb. 9). 



Robins in Winter,— Perth Amboy, N. J., Feb. 11.— I 

 observed a flock of about twenty robins this morning, 

 flying southward. Have seen song sparroAvs all winter. 

 Hawks scarcer than usual. — J. L. K. 



\mm §ng and 



"■Sam Lovel's Ccrm^s." By B, E. Bobinson. Price $1, 



DUCK SHOOTING SUPPLEMENT. 



The next number of the Forest and Stream will contain 

 a four-page supplement containing papers on wildfowl 

 shooting. 



PUGET SOUND GAME. 



LA CONNER, W. T., Jan. 15.— The close season for 

 deer began here on Jan. 1. During the season just 

 past fewer deer than usual have been taken, though on 

 some of the islands of the Sound they have been more 

 plentiful than ever. For the past few years these animals 

 have apparently been on the increase, owing, probably, 

 to the fact that the cougars have mostly been exter- 

 minated; but deer hunting in this section will soon be a 

 thing of the past, as the settlement of the islands has 

 begun in earnest. As the onward march of civilization 

 drives the large game to the wall those who have spent 

 so many pleasant days with their dogs in the dense 

 tangles of undergrowth cannot but feel a tinge of sadness. 

 On the mainland there are yet many bear and some deer, 

 but the mainland does not afford the sport that we found 

 on the islands. In the foothills of the Cascades, and hi 

 the mountains south of the Straits of Juan de Fuca there 

 are still some elk. However, if the present rate of immi- 

 gration continues the large game in the Puget Sound 

 Basin will soon all be driven to the almost inaccessible 

 fastnesses of the mountains. 



As far back as the oldest settler can remember, or the 

 traditions of the Indians can be traced, there has never 

 been such a scarcity of waterfowl as there is this winter. 

 Usually in the fall ducks of all kinds settle down on the 

 bays and sloughs in the vicinity of the Swinomish flat? 

 in countless myriads. No explanation has been offered 

 for the scarcity this year. The Indians and professional 

 white hunters bring in some ducks, but there have been 

 no large bags made by those who hunt for sport. Instead 

 of from 40 to 100 ducks this year, a paltry dozen consti- 

 tutes the average day's work. The weather has been too 

 line for good sport. For the past four weeks the weather 

 has been clear and bright, freezing slightly at night and 

 thawing during the day, As long as the northerly winds 

 prevail we may expect such weather, and as long as the 

 weather continues fine we must not look for good duck 

 hunting, for the ducks all flock to the middle of the bays, 

 out of reach from the shores, and will not allow the ap- 

 proach of boats. When the southeast or northeast winds 

 spring up, bringing with it snow or rain, the ducks come 

 in and settle down in the sloughs and oat fields. 



The Indians secure ducks when they are out in open 

 water by covering their canoes with brush and drifting 

 with the tide, or working their paddles quietly under- 

 cover of the brash until within range. 



There are many geese here now, but they are hunted 

 so much that they become wilder with each succeeding 

 year. June. 



