May if, 188&.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



holes which went in and diagonally downward tor 6 or 

 8ft. appeared to have been used for more than one sea- 

 son. I continued to dig until I struck an old colony. 

 Here I would follow one hole in for 8ft. or SO, and then 

 it would branch out in three or four ramifications, which 

 in turn connected with others. In fact there seemed to 

 be a perfect labyrinth of tunnels and the bank was honey- 

 combed in all directions. Then I gave it up. There is a 

 queer thing about the eggs of the puffin. Although they 

 appear a dirty white when taken from the hole, on 

 account of the earth which stains them, when thor- 

 oughly washed they are a beautiful clear color with faint 

 spots showing through. These spots appear to be on the 

 inside, or at least under the surface, as they show very 

 plainly on the inside of the egg. The tufted pufiinniakes 

 no nest here, but lays its single egg near the termination 

 of the burrow and on the barf earth. 



Having now gotten plenty of specimens, t prepared 

 another meal. I had patched up my pail at the fisher- 

 man's, and had some water left, so made a stew of birds, 

 flavoring it with wild onion and mustard, and this, with a 

 small fish I managed to spear with my sharp stick, and 

 some mussels roasted, made me quite a lunch. 



As I had started out to be gone only three days, I 

 thought it was time to turn towar d camp. Piling all the 

 things on board the boat, I made a start for the Sucia 

 Islands, intending to stop there over night and go on to 

 Lumnii the next day. But the wind left me to the full 

 force of the tide, and 1 was carried to Matia Island, two 

 miles west of the Sucias. Here I found a Scandinavian 

 fisherman, with whom I stayed that night. John Pennon 

 made me very welcome. And here ends my five days. 



On the next day John said there would be no wind and 

 a storm was brewing. He thought the tide would turn 

 about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, aud advised me to start 

 about three, so as to get the advantage of slack water. I 

 had to row eight miles directly across the channel to get 

 under lee of Lummi Island, And through here the tide 

 sets very strongly both ways. John said the flow would 

 take me up toward the Gulf, and the ebb would bring me 

 back. And so they did. But, oh, John! you missed your 

 calculations on the turn. I rowed away for the point, 

 and the tide bore me further up the Gulf, and still further, 

 and finally the sun went down and left me way out in the 

 Gulf, and about as far from the island as from the shore. 

 And now the tide was turning. Away along the Gulf 

 came a long ripple; then the waves rose and the waters 

 reared themselves upward. Soon my boat was caught in 

 the whirlpools at the meeting of the tides. Pulling 

 stoutly through this tumult,, I was soon in the ebbing 

 current. 



Now the air grew dark and a roar came up from the 

 west. Black clouds obscure the sunset light in the west- 

 ern sky. I knew this meant the storm. I quickly make 

 everything fast, put on my oil clothes, put up my mast 

 and sail and then glanced around. I heard that sullen 

 roar coming louder and louder, and through the darkness 

 of the storm the white waves gleamed as they came rush- 

 ing on. As the storm approached I felt a shiver and 

 wondered how my little skiff would stand the gale and sea. 

 And now it is upon us. I have the sheet in my rnzht 

 hand, the steering oar grasped firmly in my left. The 

 little boat heels over under the fury of the blast, and I 

 lean far out over the weather rail, bracing myself with 

 all my might to hold the line and steering oar. Now, 

 now she gathers way, and springing like a thing of life, 

 she rushes through the hissing sea, rolling the foam high 

 from her bows. Higher and higher roll the greart seas, 

 and still the gale rises. The rain drives against my cheek. 

 But I see the boat is making very little water and rides 

 like a seabird. I have no fear. I exult in the might y 

 tumult and the chaos of the elements. "Blow, ye winds!" 

 I shout through my set teeth. And so in the night, the 

 darkness and the storm, miles from the shore on the 

 heaving: Gulf, we drive on— my boat and I — toward the 

 long black mass that looms in the distance. 



But now there is a change. The first squall is past, and 

 the wind dies away. The sail flaps idly, and the boat 

 rolls in a sickening way as she climbs the crests of the 

 great seas, or lies like a log in the hollows between. I 

 seized the oars, and steering by the intermittent flashes 

 of a lighthouse on one of the British Islands some twenty 

 miles away, I tried to row toward the point of Lummi 

 Island. The wind had been ahead, and as I had taken 

 it abeam, it had been taking me toward the American 

 shore, and so into the shore current which sets down 

 toward Lummi Island. I know that there will be more 

 wind, but the tide is with me, and I hope to gain the lee 

 of the island. I row and row. It is hard, tiring, dis- 

 couraging work, and finally completely worn out, I take 

 in my oars and lie down in the bottom of the boat. She 

 falls now into the trough of the sea and rolls fearfully. 

 But I knew she would ride it out, and the tide was bear- 

 ing me now in the right direction. Soon I drop to sleep. 

 How long I slept I do not know, but was awakened by a 

 shower of salt spray in my face, and got up to find that 

 the storm was coming again. Slowly and wearily I 

 unfurl the sail. The wind came dead ahead. We seemed 

 to be much nearer shore. Sailing as close to the wind as 

 was possible with a flat boat, I steered for the shore and 

 trusted to the tide. I soon found that the tide dragged so 

 on the boat's stern that it kept her head off the wind , so 

 she would steer herself. I trimmed her carefully and lay 

 down with the sheet in my hand. Then I slept, and wind 

 and tide drove us on! Mechanically I held the sheet, and 

 when the boat heeled too much I woke and eased the 

 sheet, and then dozed off again. Thus I got a long rest, 

 and when at last the sea began to abate, I found I was 

 getting under the lee of the island. 



I arose feeling much refreshed; took my oars, and in 

 an hour more I had my boat fast to the steamer's stern 

 as she rode at anchor at the beach. As I climbed over 

 the rail Joe stuck his head out of the cabin door. "Hullo, 

 Professor!" he exclaimed, "we thought you had gone to 

 Alaska in the skiff. We thought it would be just like 

 you." "What time is it?" said I. "Two o'clock in the 

 morning," said he. Just then the storm howled louder 

 than ever, and the rain poured down in torrents. I 

 turned in in the cabin, thankful to be sheltered from the 

 fury of the elements, and fell asleep, lulled by the rain- 

 drops beating on the deck. 



I have now given a little of my experience of savage 

 life. Lest some enthusiastic young friend should wish to 

 imitate me, and strike out for some desolate island to de- 

 pend on his own resources, I will say, "Don't do it." You 

 will make a mistake. A meat diet is not apt to fatten a 

 man in a warm climate, and it is not always best for 



those who have been brought up among all the comforts 

 of civilization and tenderly nurtured in pleasant homes 

 to try to inure themselves to hardship. It is well to be 

 near nature, but have all the creature comforts you can 

 carry, and above all, plenty of provisions. Health and 

 comfort will then walk hand in hand, and your ways will 

 be the ways of pleasantness and your paths the paths of 

 ppa.ee Edavard Howk FOEBUSH. 



NESTS OF THE GREAT HORNED OWL. 



ON February 93, 188?, a Mend of mine went to the 

 mountain to hunt for the great horned owl {Bubo 

 viirfinianns), in the hope of getting their eggs. He 

 looked carefully nearly all day, without any success, and 

 was just about leaving for home when he heard the 

 crows making a tremendous racket not far off. On going 

 to where the crows were he could see no owls, but found 

 an old dilapidated nest, and imagined he could see a 

 bird's tail extending over the nest. He pounded the tree, 

 but no bird (lew off, so he decided to climb up to the 

 nest, a distance of about fifty feet. When he was about 

 half way up the owl left the nest, which contained two 

 fresh eggs, which he took. On April 8 he went there 

 again, thinking that perhaps the owl might have laid a 

 second time. To his surprise he found that the redtail 

 hawk had taken possession of the nest and had deposited 

 two eggs in it. I never heard of the redtail hawk laying 

 its eggs in an old nest, and so far as 1 know these are the 

 first redtail eggs taken in this locality, although some 

 five or six years ago 1 found very near the same place a, 

 nest with one young one. This nest was a new one built 

 by the hawks, and fully twice as large as a crow's nest. 



On February 22, 1888, my friend went to look for the 

 owls again, and found that they were occupying the 

 same old nest. This time the bird left the nest before he 

 could get anywhere near it, He climbed the tree, and 

 found that she had laid only one egg, so he decided to 

 leave it alone, and take the young when about two weeks 

 old and have them stuffed and mounted together with a. 

 pair of old ones. 



On April 8, just forty-six days after the first egg was 

 laid, we went there together expecting to come home 

 with two half-grown owls. When we arrived at the tree 

 we saw that the old bird was sitting on the nest. I 

 pounded against the tree and she eyed us but did not fly. 

 The moment my friend commenced to climb she flew 

 from the nest, and in leaving it a young one fell out. Of 

 course, falling from such a height, we expected to pick 

 it up dead, but it seemed unhurt. The nest still contained 

 one picked egg ready to break, so that one could heat the 

 little one inside make a noise. We hid for at least half 

 an hour and watched for the old ones to come and give us 

 a shot, but their eyes must be better than ours, and they 

 woidd not come. As the little one had not yet died and 

 seemed strong and lively, and was not the size he wanted, 

 my friend decided to climb the tree again and take it and 

 the egg back to the nest. This he did and on the edge of 

 the nest he found the head and front legs of a rabbit. 

 Under the trees near by we found bones of animals, a 

 dead field mouse and feathers of the ruffed grouse. We 

 shall probably go there again in the course of a few 

 weeks, and hope by that time the young will be the size 

 desired, and that we will be able to shoot the old ones, as 

 they surely are the sportsman's worst enemy. I am 

 anxious to see whether the little one that fell from such 

 a height is still living. Did any of the readers of Forest 

 and Stream ever hear that it takes a great-horned owl 

 forty-six days to hatch her eggs? During our day's 

 ramble we saw one live grouse and signs where several 

 had been killed, probably by owls or foxes. We also 

 found several new nests which we took for those of the 

 Cooper's hawk, but none contained eggs. We also saw a 

 red fox, another game murderer. O. B. H. 



Bethlehem, Pa., April 10. 



ODD HABITS OF ANIMALS. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I made, recently, at a meeting of the New York 

 Academy of Sciences, some remarks on the habits of 

 animals and send the following memoranda; 



In an early Colonial book, "A New Voyage to Carolina," 

 London, 1709, by John Lawson, Surveyor General, he 

 records p. 125, "The fox of Carolina is gray with reddish 

 hairs about their ears. They make a sorry chase because 

 they run up trees when pursued." I cited a recent inci- 

 dent of a fox being shot in Pennsylvania in a tree, 30ft. 

 from the ground, where he had taken refuge from the 

 hounds. A clipping from the Sun, March 7, 1888, gives 

 an account of a meet at Whitfield, near Dover, England, 

 where "three foxes were seen to ascend a tree a short 

 distance off. They were dislodged, one by one. The first 

 made a ringing run and escaped; the second was taken 

 on reaching the ground; the third with a good start led 

 a ringing run and was eventually run into." 



Dr. E. Percival Wright, Prof. University, Dublin, in his 

 "Lectures on Animal Life" says, "The woodchuck of 

 America (Arctomys monax) burrows in the earth, but 

 ascends bushes and trees, probably, in search of buds and 

 other productionson which he feeds." I have seen no such 

 record in any American work on natural history. 



Prof. C. H. Pettee of Dartmouth College has seen this 

 animal repeatedly in trees, and I have other well authen- 

 tic .ited cases. He is frequently found lying on the lower 

 extended branches sleeping or sunning himself. 



Fifty years ago the advocates of total abstinence argued 

 that "no animal would taste alcoholic liquors," and the 

 man who did so became ipso facto lower than the brutes. 

 This has no basis in fact; Lawson says p. 121, "The 

 raccoon is the drunkenest creature living if he can get 

 auy liquor that is sweet and strong." I observed Sept. 11, 

 1827 (with a large number of passengers returning from 

 the Yale Commencement on the night steamboat to New 

 York) a party of sailors just discharged in Boston from 

 the frigate Constitution with a dog, the companion of 

 their three years' cruise, who spent the night on the for- 

 ward deck. They had a gallon jug of rum, and drank fre 

 quently of it. At each draft one pulled off his shoe and 

 poured a liberal dram into the heel, which the dog 

 lapped with a good appetite. 



Twenty years ago it was common in central New York 

 for the merchants to prepare hogsheads of black cherry 

 brandy, rum and whisky, and the next summer to throw 

 out the cherries in by places and even the road. The 

 wandering swine of a village in Oneida county gathered 

 around one of these heaps and gorged themselves, and 

 were soon prostrate and disabled for a good while. This 



agrees with the account published in Howe's "Historica 

 Collections of Virginia," p. 314, that when "Gen. Arnold 

 captured Richmond, Va., in 1781, he poured out all the 

 liquors found in the shops into the gutters, and the cows 

 and hogs drunk them and went staggering about the 

 streets." 



A friend has recently related to me an incident that he 

 saw several years ago in New Hampshire. A cow got 

 into a cider mill, and drank so much new fermenting 

 cider that she lost her equilibrium and fell upon her side 

 as if she had taken champagne more hvma.no. 



The fondness of sheep for "kill-lamb" or wilted leaves 

 of the kaimia or laurel, and of cows for those of the wild 

 cherry are examples of peculiar or perverted tastes for 

 injurious substances. 



There is obviously a wide field for observation and 

 study of the habits of animals, which would bring out 

 interesting results and a new page in natural history. 



New YnilK. Oliver P. HUBBARD. 



DOMESTICATED WILD GEESE. 



A FEW years since I wrote you that Mr. Norman 

 Pomroy, living about three miles from this city, 

 captured a flock of wild geese (Branta canadensis) by 

 their entering his barn during a severe storm. To-day I 

 was out for a tramp, and learning that I was within 

 half a mile of Mr. Pomroy's residence, I concluded to 

 make a personal observation of these birds. The young 

 sons of Mr. Pomroy, seeing me on the premises with my 

 gun, thought they would interview me, and when I made 

 known my errand they commenced looking up the geese, 

 a part of which were found in a shed under the farm im- 

 pliments. They seemed to be more restless and pugna- 

 cious than the domestic bird. After watching them for 

 some time, the boys took me down through the orchard, 

 and, pointing into the stubble field adjoining, said there 

 was a goose sitting on the snow, and proposed that we go 

 out and see it. As we came near it I noticed that it was 

 within an inclosure of wire netting, and was used as a 

 decoy, to attract geese flying over. Pointing to tracks in 

 the snow, one of the boys told me that yesterday three 

 geese had alighted and stayed for some time. (Perhaps 

 they were the same mentioued by "Cayuga" in the land- 

 lord story in your issue of March 21). I had been told by 

 parties before reaching Mr. Pomroy's that they had seen 

 three geese flying about the day before, and they were, 

 probably, the same the boys had seen about the decoy. 

 Mr. Pomroy does not decoy them for the purpose of shoot- 

 ing them, but in the hope that they may be led into the 

 barn by his domesticated wild geese, as these were by his 

 domestic geese during the storm. 



Mr. Pomroy's wild and domestic geese breed together, 

 but he generally kills off the hybrids, and 6ells the sur- 

 plus of the wild species for §10 a pair. At present he has 

 sixteen of the Branta, and a few of the hybrids. They 

 are now breeding, and on our return from the stubble 

 field through the quince orchard I was shown the nests, 

 on one of which was a hybrid laying her eggs. I was 

 given a half-breed egg as a specimen for my collection, 

 and promised one of the Branta eggs later in the season, 

 the young man remarking that "after the wild birds 

 commenced sitting there would be eggs that would not 

 hatch." I wonder if this is so in the wild state? 



After leaving Mr. Pomroy's, and about fifty rods from 

 the house, I found two of his wild geese in the water by 

 the roadside. I passed within teu feet of them, and they 

 were no more disturbed than domestic birds generally 

 are. They were beauties, and, had T not known that they 

 were domesticated, I think that I would have been 

 tempted to fire into them. 

 The first wild geese of the season were seen on March 13, 

 Lockpobt, N. Y., J. L. Davison. 



Tropical Fruits at Lake Worth, Florida.— Dr. H. 

 E. Van Deman addressed the Biological Society of Wash- 

 ington at its last meeting on the subject of tropical fruits 

 introduced into the Lake Worth region, in Florida. After 

 explaining the mildness of the climate because of the 

 proximity of the Gulf Stream and mentioning the poverty 

 of the locality in native fruits, which were limited to the 

 papaw and the wild melon papaw. Dr. Van Deman traced 

 the history and progress of the principal fruits which 

 have been 'added to the flora. The cocoanut dates from 

 1860 (other accounts say about six years earlier), and ten 

 or twelve trees of this age are now living: the tallest of 

 them are 4 ft. high. The ripening season is continual, 

 and a tree will ripen from 200 to 300 nuts yearly. The 

 principal supply for planting came from a wreck. There 

 are now about 500,000 cocoanut trees from Lake Worth 

 to the southern end of the State. The pineapple flourishes. 

 Of the bananas the dwarf banaua is the only successful 

 one. The mango is said to bear well; sometimes the 

 early blooms are all blasted for several years, but another 

 set comes out the same season and the yield is good. 

 The sapadiilo resembles a russet apple and becomes a 

 delicious fruit. The soursop and the sugar apple do very 

 well. The guava, famous for the jelly made from it, has 

 grown since 1860 and bears all the year. The tamarind 

 thrives and produces fruit abundantly. Avocado pears 

 give great satisfaction. The citrus family, including 

 oranges and lemons, amounts to very little at Lake 

 Worth, as the soil has become too valuable for such 

 industry, 



Annual Ring Growth. — At the last meeting of the 

 Biological Society of Washington, Mr. B. E. Fernow, 

 chief of the Forestry Division of the Department of Agri- 

 culture, read a valuable paper on annual ring growth in 

 trees. Mr. Fernow stated that in a climate like ours, 

 characterized by an alternation of seasons, including 

 winter and summer, the annual ring is readily recognized 

 and enables one to determine the exact age of the tree. 

 Secondary rings are sometimes produced by an arrest of 

 the regular progress of growth, but these do not mislead 

 the close observer. The ring shows a notable demarca- 

 tion into spring wood and summer wood, two elements 

 differing in color and density, and contributing, when 

 suitably combined, to beautiful effects in the arts. The 

 density of the wood increases as the season advances, and 

 growth ceases about Sept. 15. The width of the annual 

 ring decreases with the age of the tree, ft is quite prac- 

 ticable to count sometimes as many as 500 or 600 rings. 



The revised and abridged edition of the A. O. U. Check List of 

 North American Birds, Including the additions and changes made 

 in the supplement, will he sent post free on receipt of 50cts.— Adv. 



