486 



FOREST AMD STREAM. 



|I»kc. ^0, 



NESTING OF LEACH'S PETREL. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



I noticed in your issue of Nov. 29 the account of the 

 meeting of the A. O. 0\, which included the statements 

 of Dr. Louis B. Bishop, giving his experience with the 

 nidification of a species of petrel which he found at the 

 Magdalen Islands. Dr. Bishop expressed an opinion that 

 the petrels did make some nest at the end of their bur- 

 rows and exhibited a nest, which he secured, as evidence. 

 It seemed, however, that in the opinion of other promin- 

 ent ornithologists these nests which Dr. Bishop found 

 were the work of mice, in which the finding of the petrel 

 eggs was a mere coincidence. 



From the meagre details given I am unable to ascer- 

 tain what species of petrel Dr. Bishop found at the Mag- 

 dalen Islands, but the following may prove of interest 

 with reference to the discussion. 



I spent the first two weeks in June, 1887, at Grand 

 Manau, N. B., with Mr. Simeon F. Cheney, whom doubt- 

 less many of your naturalist readers well know ; and ■ in 

 company with him and two other gentlemen visited 

 White House Island, a great resort for the Leach's petrel 

 (Oceanodroma leueorhoa). We explored over fifty of their 

 burrows, and in nearly all which contained eggs, I found 

 a handful of chaff, upon which the eggs were placed. In 

 some instances the burrows were so fresh as to admit of 

 little probability of mice ever having inhabited them: and 

 these also contained the usual litter at the end of the 

 burrow. 



While the arrangement of the finely cut grass, etc., 

 did greatly resemble the usual work of mice, yet the 

 reasoning from cause to effect was so apparent and con- 

 clusive that I readily ascribed it to the petrel. In some 

 of the new burrows the straws were mixed with the new 

 earth, and in such new incompleted homes I would 

 always find a pair of petrels, while the burrows contain- 

 ing eggs would be occupied by single birds. Several old 

 burrows would be occupied by lone birds, presumably a 

 retreat for the males, and such holes contained no nests. 



Should these nests be proven to be the work of mice, 

 ! then we must look for an intimacy which will rival the 

 prairie dog-owl-rattlesnake story of the Western plains. 



F. H. Cahpenter. 



0mm mid %w\. 



THAT CHRISTMAS HUNT. 



AS fresh as the crisp breezes that swept across the 

 cheerless hilltops was I last Christmas morning 

 when, after a brisk three-mile jaunt, I drew rein before 

 an old-fashioned farmhouse. From the tumble-down 

 chimney at its further end a faint wreath of smoke curled 

 lazily upward, while across the frost-encrusted window 

 panes little streaks of dampness crept comfortingly. The 

 signs of warmth and a Merry Christmas within were alto- 

 gether pleasing, and in mighty sharp contrast to the 

 slashing wind and oppressive mercury without. 



My former companion on many a tramp afield, A., met 

 me at the door. He signified his intention to join me in 

 a scramble after the grouse. From the dusty depths of 

 an upper story the historic muzzleloader, long of barrel 

 and straight of stock, was rescued. The process of clean- 

 ing was simple and devoid of ordinary ornamentation, 

 consisting merely of an enormous injection of common 

 black powder, the rust-eaten exterior of the family heir- 

 loom being rubbed briefly with a coarse cloth profusely 

 saturated with kerosene oil. We struck for a deep, far- 

 reaching ravine, densely timbered, something like a half 

 mile west. I don't suppose there is anywhere a locality 

 to hunt in more uncomfortable than in this same gulch. 

 A good many of the terribly steep declivities are cov- 

 ered with a remarkably thick undergrowth that makes 

 any sort of progress exceedingly difficult. The tedious, 

 toilsome hours passed, and not a bird was sighted. Then, 

 as the mellow notes of the dinner horn floated down the 

 lane from the house, echoing from tangled copse to tow- 

 ering bluff, A.'s big gauge came abruptly to his shoulder 

 and a fine bird was knocked from its perch on the top- 

 most branch of a stately hemlock. A. doesn't profess to 

 care a rap for the shooting ethics of the modern sports- 

 man and never takes any chances on a wing-shot. So it 

 came about that on this particular occasion the blunder- 

 buss beat the breechloader. 



After paying our respects to a Christmas collection of 

 toothsome things we again adjourned to the neighboring 

 woodland. Game signs were pretty nearly obliterated. 

 Finally, however, I succeeded in getting up a surpris- 

 ingly large partridge. The bird arose full 40yds. in ad- 

 vance of me, and crossing the noisy Buttermilk Creek 

 settled in a thicket of stunted hemlocks near its eastern 

 bank. A. declared that to bag that bird should be our 

 task, though it should take the entire afternoon. There- 

 upon a crossing was effected and a cautious beating out 

 process began. A . had reached the center of the swayin^ 

 center, when, with a roar like the rattle of musketry, the 

 gay fellow broke cover and was marked down at or near 

 a point of rocks projecting into the creek, the rocks being 

 the termination of a long ridge, deeply wooded, that ran 

 in a quartering direction from us. A. made for this 

 point while I ascended the ridge, the top of which was 

 surmounted by a broad plateau partly wooded. To the 

 west of thirf plateau rushed the stream, the peculiar 

 milky whiteness of whose waters, at this point and be- 

 low, give to it the name "Buttermilk." Going to the 

 very edge of the ridge, which sheered off downward a 

 good hundred feet to the water below, I shouted to A. to 

 flush. The next moment the dun and mottled plumage 

 burst through a rift of green-topped pines, and following 

 the bed of the stream disappeared around a convenient 

 bend of rocks. Half dazed and quite entirely disgusted 

 I waited until my companion climbed up the steep ascent. 



A council of waT was held and it was decided that the 

 bird had switched off from the water and alighted on the 

 northern side of the ridge, the summit of which we had 

 311st reached. A. then sought a spot some twenty rods 

 aJiead of where we decided our game to be resting, and 

 1 whipped around to a point where the wooded slope and 

 waters met and carefully advanced. I had proceeded 

 scarcely twenty steps, when with a boisterous whir, the 



almost at my feet My chances of grassing him were 

 not riattermg, and I reluctantly awaited the report of 

 A. s heavy-weight. It was growing dark rapidly when 

 I reached his position, anxious to know why he had 

 tailed to shoot. He curtly informed me that his grouse- 



ship had deigned to alight in a tree top, well out of gun- 

 shot, for a moment only, and then winged his swift flight 

 to a cluster of pines on' the plateau near where our last 

 council of war had terminated. 



Deciding to make one final supreme charge on the 

 enemy, ere the mantlo of dark dropped over the last faint 

 outlines of sprightly Dame Nature's robe, we approached 

 the cover. The darkling shadows flitted through the 

 woods, making a still-hunt a provokingly slow task. 

 Working with the dull gray of the western sky as a back- 

 ground, I was enabled to see tolerably well. Meeting 

 with no success 1 was about to rejoin my companion 

 who, possessing a dim eyesight, had remained in the 

 rear, when, from a gentle swaying bush a clean 30yds. in 

 front of me, the keen- eyed bird dashed into space, and at 

 the report of my Ithaca dropped earthward, A beautiful 

 specimen of a most magnificent game family he proved 

 to be. After leading a clever chase of over a mile through 

 the roughest country a shooting man could wish for, and 

 recording at least five flushes to his credit, the big fellow 

 tendered to us an unconditional surrender. With that 

 surrender came Christmas cheer and calm contentment 

 to the conquerors. M. CHILL. 



Ithaca, N. Y. 



THE SEASON IN MINNESOTA. 



NEW LONDON, Minn., Dec. 8.— The shooting season 

 has nearly closed here, though the birds have not 

 all gone south. Severe weather has not yet set in. For 

 several weeks we have had quiet sunny days, with just 

 enough frosty nights to make good skating on the ponds. 

 The large lakes are still entirely open, and daily one may 

 see geese and various late ducks enjoying themselves. 

 Seeing is not possessing, however, for these last few birds 

 seem to have more cunning than all the earlier hordes 

 combined. Day after day the geese rise high in the air, 

 and go off to some secluded field to feed, carefully avoid- 

 ing everything that looks in the least suspicious. Their 

 motto seems to be, "Vigilance is the price of life." and 

 they live it to the letter. Occasionally some enthusiastic 

 and perservering hunter looks up a feeding ground, and 

 digs a pit in the frozen earth, or makes a blind of corn- 

 stalks; but, after shivering through the early hours of 

 the day, he is apt to discover that the geese understand 

 the anatomy of his sheet iron decoys nearly as well as he 

 does himself. 



But little more successful is the duck hunter. All day 

 long the ducks hang around the middle of the lake, get- 

 ting their food from the bottom and seldom coming with- 

 in even rifle range of the shore. If they are disturbed 

 by a boat, they rise in circles over the open water, and 

 go straight across the country to some other lake, paying 

 no attention to the flyways chosen by their brethren 

 earlier in the season, and moving so high that the shooter 

 in the blind on the point or on the marsh cannot reach 

 them. Still, an afternoon about the lakes is not unen joy- 

 able, unless enjoyment be entirely measured by the 

 amount of game killed. To the sportsman who appre- 

 ciates game that is diflicult to obtain, the bagging of one 

 goose or duck now, that is fairly outwitted and shot, is 

 more satisfactory than the killing of a dozen earlier in 

 the season when they were numerous and comparatively 

 tame. 



It frequently happens that when going through the 

 brush, there will be a sudden whirr and roar as a ruffed 

 grouse goes from your feet so rapidly that there is barely 

 time, to throw the gun to your shoulder and pull the trig- 

 ger. Ruffed grouse (always called partridge or pheasant 

 here) are so strong and quick on the wing now, that the 

 snap shots they afford are difficult enough to please the 

 most exacting. The crop has not been up to the average 

 this year. The broods hatched out well, but cold rainy 

 weatiier came on, and many of the chicks died before 

 they were half grown. 



Prairie chickens suffered less from the wet weather, 

 still they were not as numerous as in former years. At 

 the commencement of the open season they were largely 

 feeding in the grain, which was then standing. The 

 result was light bags, and a large number of birds left 

 for seed next year. I know of nothing much more 

 tempting than to have a covey of these birds fly over 

 one, now that it is the close season. Their flight is so 

 strong and rapid that they are much better able to take 

 care of themselves than they were in the open season, 

 and they present a mark nearly as difficult as teal. 

 Nevertheless the law protecting them is a good one, for 

 it keeps them out of the market, and offers no induce- 

 ment to that abomination, the trapper, to ply his trade. 

 If any change is made in the law the time when they 

 can be sold should be shortened, or better still, abolished 

 altogether. 



The flight of ducks has been nearly as great as in any 

 recent year, but the birds did not stay with us long. 

 Wild rice is their principal food here, and that was very 

 scarce, many beds being almost entirely destroyed by 

 the unusual high stage of water through the summer. 

 The statement of Mr. T. A. Howe that, "I believe that if 

 one acre of the densest of wild rice swamp were gathered 

 and stripped there would not be a half bushel of seed" 

 (reported by your Chicago correspondent Nov. 29), is very 

 surprising. Indiana wild rice must yield much less than 

 our Minnesota variety. A bed of rice, with us, that does 

 not yield three bushels of seed per acre is light. On the 

 first day of last September I paddled a common open 

 canoe through a bed of rice for about four hours, I went 

 slowly and as quiet as possible, for unless I was close to 

 the ducks when they flushed there was not time to lay 

 down the paddle and take up the gun before they were 

 out of reach. When I finished shooting, and pulled the 

 canoe up on shore, there were over six quarts of rice in 

 it, that had fallen in or been knocked in by changing the 

 paddle from side to side. The crops of the ten woodducks 

 and teal that I got were full of the rice. 



Geese have been more abundant here all the fall than 

 for years. There are several causes for this. The high 

 stage of water made numerous safe roosting places. 

 The wheat crop, which was better here than further west, 

 was taken off the fields very late, thus giving the birds 

 a chance to pick up the scattered grain before the plow- 

 ing was done. Another reason, and a constantly grow- 

 ing one, is that through Dakota, where the main flight 

 has recentlv been, the country is rapidly settling up and 

 the birds are being shot at there nearly as much as in 

 this State. Therefore, it is with considerable hope for 

 the shooting next fall that we will put away our guns in 

 a few days, when the lakes freeze up for winter and the 

 last goose goes south. Ren. 



"DEER HUNTING IN NEWFOUNDLAND." 



HALIFAX, N. S.. Dec. 11.— Editor Forest and Stream: 

 I notice with surprise in your last issue (Dec. 6) a 

 letter from a correspondent in Harbour Grace, which 

 brings a charge of wholesale "butchery" against me and 

 my Halifax friends while deer stalking in Newfoundland 

 this autumn. 



This unfounded charge originated doubtless in a bogus 

 telegram sent from the Bay of Islands to a St. John's 

 paper. Had Mi-, B. taken the trouble to verify his facts 

 before rushing into print, he would have found the fol- 

 lowing: In the first place. Dr. Tobin was at no time 

 shooting near Grand Pond, as he states, but in the Bonne 

 Bay Hills, at some distance from the Humber. He had 

 with him no "Halifax friends." His sole companion was 

 Mr. R. Langrishe Marc, a well-known sportsman from St. 

 John's, who has done much to preserve and improve the 

 stock of game in the colony. Dr. Tobin and Mr. Marc 

 killed but seven stags between them during the five weeks 

 their party was in the country. 



Secondly, as to the charge of leaving the carcasses on 

 the ground, it was imposible to do otherwise. It was the 

 rutting season, and at such time (as your sporting corre- 

 spondent should be aware) stag's meat is uneatable. I 

 would like him to try it. In all cases, however, the car- 

 casses were removed from the deer paths. A few does 

 were shot for food, but no more than the wants of the 

 party, at one time numbering eight persons, necessi- 

 tated. 



Dr. Deeble, army medical staff, and his brother, accom- 

 panied me from Halifax to Deer Lake. There they 

 branched off to shoot at Grand Pond. After six weeks' 

 shooting and trapping they brought down nine heads and 

 some fur to the Bay of Islands. Thus the two parties, 

 camping some fifty miles apart, got but seventeen heads 

 between them, which I am sure your readers, consider- 

 ing the time occupied and the number of guns (four), will 

 not consider unreasonable. 



This is the second excursion I have made to this same 

 ground in Newfoundland (each time with Mr. Marc), and 

 I must say your unreliable correspondent greatly exag- 

 gerates its attractions for sportsmen. On both occasions 

 we failed to find the thousands of deer he describes. 

 When last there, four years ago, we shot eight stags, and 

 saw but forty or fifty altogether. This year, for the first 

 three weeks we did not see the tail of a "deer, but one doe 

 which we shot for the larder. In the last two weeks we 

 saw perhaps thirty, but there were but few old stags 

 among them. 



To accuse the few sportsmen who visit Newfoundland 

 of "butchery" is untrue and misleading. The real 

 slaughter of deer is done by the fishermen from the coast 

 and other settlers. Parties of them go up from the coast 

 and shoot deer for their winter's food. They fire into the 

 herds with buckshot and wound (often fatally) more 

 than they kill outright. These are the real butchers 

 against whom the terrors of the law should be invoked. 

 Barring the deer, whose numbers are sadly diminishing, 

 we saw but few ducks, geese, hares or ptarmigan. In 

 fact, this part of the island is far from being "a paradise 

 for sportsmen." 



These facts, which will be vouched for by Mr. Petrie. 

 Bay of Islands, and Mr. Lillie, the resident magistrate for 

 that district, will, I hope, effectually dispose of the charge 

 of "butchery" brought against me and my "Halifax 

 friends" by this busy "B.," your anonymous correspondent 

 — perhaps B. F. might more appropriately describe him. 



I might add that Lord Caledon, who went from the 

 Bay of Islands to Hall's Bay, via Grand Pond, while the 

 Deebles were there last October, shot only four heads, 

 and in a subsequent letter which I have seen, says 

 nothing of the evidences of slaughter described by your 

 correspondent's informant from Little Bay. 



- W. Tobin. 



MAINE GAME. 



THE Maine deer season is proving to be a wonderful 

 one, and the number being taken is simply enor- 

 mous, when compared with the great scarcity of that 

 game twenty, or even ten years ago in that State. Deer 

 are reported in most unheard of localities. The papers say 

 that one actually ran into the city of Bangor the other 

 clay, and becoming entangled on a' picket fence, was 

 killed. The engineer and fireman on the train which 

 runs on the branch of the Maine Central Railroad from 

 Oakland to Anson, have recently seen three deer several 

 trips in succession a short distance above the village of 

 Noridgewock. A few days after a deer ran up very near 

 to where some men were wood chopping in that section. 

 Again a few days later a man out gunning for partridges 

 killed a deer which weighed 1501bs, His gun was loaded 

 with small shot only, but the deer ran up very near to 

 him; stopped, and gave him an excellent chance for a 

 shot. Now the advocates of dog hunting have something 

 to think of in such cases. The deer mentioned above 

 were all seen within a few rods of farms and farmers' 

 dwellings, and very near to quite respectable settlements; 

 and more singular than all, in localities where a few 

 years ago such an animal as a deer was almost unheard 

 of. Then packs of hounds were kept for the purpose of 

 hunting, and if a deer had been heard of it would have 

 been hounded to its death in a few hours. But to-day it 

 is against the law to hunt deer with dog's, and the law i3 

 fairly enforced, except in one or two localities — one where 

 open defiance is bid. 



But the most refreshing feature to note is the point 

 that so few deer, in spite of the fact that they are so 

 plentiful, are reaching the Boston market. It is plain 

 that the market hunter's business is not an easy one, if 

 he desires to ship deer from Maine to Boston. But very 

 few from that State have been smuggled through. New 

 and then a carcass is seen, with the joints of the legs cut,; 

 and if a buck, with the antlers knocked off. Why this 

 mutilation? The question quickly solved itself the other 

 day to a friend of fish and game protection who happened I 

 into a commission house, noted for receiving game. Two \ 

 of the salesmen were rousing something from a pork 

 barrel. It proved to be the body of a deer. The joints 

 of the legs were cut, so that they could be doubled up in' 

 the barrel. The barrel was carefully headed. Evidently 

 the deer came from Maine, though the men denied all 

 knowledge of the shippers or their place of business. In 

 another case two deer have been received through the, 

 medium of flour barrels, marked apples or potatoes! In 

 another case a deer was seen to be taken from a poultry 

 case. 



