104 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



fAUG. 29, 1889. 



at bow and stern, and with a keel of at least ten inches 

 below the gar boards, these craft woufrl please the eye of 

 the extreme cutter men, for their lines are extremely 

 graceful and they sail well. The rig- of tli is particular craft 

 consisted of a single large jib hanked to a wire stay, a 

 leg-of mutton mainsail bent to a parrel yard, and an 

 ordinnry leg-of mutton dandy. The luffs of the two 

 latter sails were laced to the mast, and the halliards rove 

 through a sheave in the masthead, just below the truck. 

 The jibstay and main shrouds collared over a shoulder in 

 the mast. The main halliard was bent to the middle of 

 the parrel yard, and when the yard was hauled chock up 

 to the sheave it extended about half way down the mast, 

 leaving only about one-third of the sail luff to be 1 iced to 

 the ma-t. It is a simple and snug rig for any bind of a 

 boat, and I intend to use it on my next canoe. 



Another feature was the booms, the main one over- 

 lapping the dandy mast by at least 3ft., and incoming 

 about iu a strong breeze it required a smart hand to shift 

 ballast and lift the boom over in time. The natives here 

 do it very easily, and work the jtb sheets at the same 

 time, for these long boats do not come round quickly. I 

 soon acquired the knack of doing it myself. The booms 

 were of native bamboo of about Sin. diameter at the butt, 

 making a li«ht and strong spar, and I have been told 

 that a great many of them are carried to England, and 

 highly prized there for the use of small yachts. 



This canoe, or dory, as it is called in Honduras, awaited 

 our pleasure one clear and beautiful morning, and away 

 we went. The wind was fresh and cool, the water green 

 and clear, and the sea had just enough roll and tumble 

 in it to impart an agreeable motion. Bliff and I lay back 

 at our ease taking in the panorama of the rapidly passing 

 town, with its pretty white houses and cocoanut groves. 

 The ships in the harbor made a very pleasing picture, 

 and on the right hand could be seen many islands large 

 and small scattered around the harbor. We felt exhilarated 

 taking it all in so free and easy, but I suppose this is a 

 sensation we all experience once in a while. Our dory 

 cut the water like a knife and slipped along rapidly and 

 easily, with hardly a ripple in her wake, and in about 

 half an hour we had left the sight of the town with its 

 convent and shipping and soldiers' barracks away behind 

 us. We were then nearly abreast of an island called 

 Moho Cave. The front of "it is embowered in graceful 

 cocoanut trees, and the back part trends off into swamp, 

 and is covered with a dense growth of the red mangrove. 

 This mangrove tree grows in either fresh or salt water 

 swamps, and even in water three or four feet deep. The 

 limbs of the trees send shoots or roots down into the 

 water, and thus a thicket of mangroves is a matted mass 

 of trunks and limbs and roots. On these limbs and 

 trunks and roots, deep down under the surface of the 

 water, cling bunches and single oysters, and thus are 

 formed the oyster groves I had heard of. The leaves of 

 these trees are of a beautiful dark green, and the swamp 

 islands from a distance look like fairy bowers. 



We poled our dory around to the south of the island, 

 but could not get very near, as we were scraping bottom 

 all the time. We passed over numerous oyster beds while 

 doing so, and with an ordinary rake which had been pro- 

 vided we hauled aboard a lot of the oysters. They were 

 small and flat, and the shell looked more like a flat clam 

 than an oyster. But the inside tasted all right, and our 

 boatman swallowed that down witharelish. Ididnotcare 

 much for them myself, except as curiosities, for the mud 

 that stuck to them did not smell appetizing. Bliff turned 

 his nose up and would not touch them. I was anxious 

 to get some of the specimens growing on the green limbs, 

 with leaves attached, but we could not get near enough 

 to the trees, for our cutter-canoe drew no less than three 

 feet. Our boatman would not go overboard after them, 

 as he said sharks were too plentiful, so after spending an 

 hour or two pottering around, we pulled up stakes and 

 shoved out into deep water and anchored. 



It was now about twelve o'clock, and being hungry we 

 made preparations for a breakfast. We triced up the 

 main boom and spread an awning over the cockpit, and 

 by shifting the thwarts around had a large free space to 

 sit or lounge in and prepare our meal. The baskets and 

 boxes provided by our jovial landlord were duly inspected 

 and pitched into with a relish, and it was fully two o'clock 

 before we got through our midday rest and set sail to 

 return. By this time quite a sea had got Up, the wind 

 freshened and had drawn more to the south, so that it 

 was a beat nearly all the way to town. Our canoe heeled 

 to it gracefully, and with all hands and the three pigs 

 hanging out to wind ward, we wa ltzed through that rough 

 water like an express train. The whitecaps rolled in 

 toward us fast and furious, the spray dashed over the 

 bows in sparkling showers, but our good boat kepi on her 

 way as steady as a ten-tonner, and with a weather helm 

 as light and tender as a horse's moutb. We were soon 

 abreast of the town, but about three miles out in the 

 harbor, and in tacking in toward shore we gave free sheet 

 and passed to the south of the town and around a point 

 called Tela's Folly. Here we passed over more oyster beds, 

 and in approaching the shore found good hard bottom. 

 There were some mangrove trees in the water, isolated 

 from those on the banks, and by taking in all sail and 

 by working around with a push-pole, we managed to get 

 near them. With cutlass in hand our boatman stripped 

 and jumped overboard, and in a little while he brought 

 us some fair specimens of limbs with oysters attached, 

 but he had hardly returned on board when two shark fins 

 were seen cutting the water over the spot where he had 

 b-en chopping. Fully sati-fied with our day's outing, 

 we soon upped sails, and after clearing the point chased 

 the wind on the home run. L. 



New Ohleans. 



The Woodcock's Whistle —Co okstown, Ont., Aug. 

 23.— Editor Forest and Stream:— A short time ago you 

 were kind enough to print a few lines from me stating 

 that it was my helief that the whistling sound which the 

 woodcock makes when flying is made by the wings, the 

 three narrow primary quills producing the whistle. 

 Yesterday afternoon I went out after the woodcock for 

 the first time this season. The dogs raised eight birds. 

 Not one of the eight birds made the slightest whistling 

 sound. I shot two (quite enough for my purpose); on my 

 examining them I found that they had lost by moult the 

 three primary feathers of each wing, which feathers are 

 just commencing to grow again. The rest of the wing is 

 perfect. I take the liberty of inclosing the wings, to you, 

 and would be pleased if you would kindly examine them. 

 — H. B. N. [We find the wings to be a3 described.] 



MY CHICKENS. 



I HAVE been rearing a brood of young chickens lately 

 —bringing them up by hand as it were; and have 

 been much interested in watching their development. 

 Their mother died the day after they were hatched, in 

 fact before some of them had chipped the shell, so that 

 all their actions have been prompted by what man calls 

 instinct, and nothing can he ascribed to education. 



The first promptings of instinct which I noticed was 

 on the third day, when they began to scratch in true 

 chicken style the board on which I fed them their ;corn 

 meal. On the fifth day I noticed them running feebly after 

 insects, some of which they caught and devoured. One of 

 them captured a "stink bug," and the very face which he 

 made, as he disgustedly dropped him, would have made 

 a sick man laugh. Up to the eleventh day they huddled 

 together on the ground at night, but at that date began 

 to show a tendency to fly up to the perch. 



It was not till the thirteenth day that they showed any 

 fear of the buzzards which were perpetually flying over 

 them; and this fear seemed to develop very suddenly. 

 They had been watching a buzzard for several minutes, 

 without any symptoms of alarm, when suddenly one gave 

 a squawK of alarm, and all rushed panic-stricken under 

 the house. And yet their instinct seems to have curious 

 limitations. They show no fear at sight of a dog, but let 

 a rabbit come loping along, and they seem to go wild 

 with fright. Thunder and lightning scare them, but 

 beating on the head of an empty hogshead, or the flash 

 of a dark lantern in their faces at night, seems to only 

 stupefy and benumb them. Sometimes I throw a live 

 mouse into their coop, and they tackle him valiantly 

 and soon peck him to death, but the introduction of a 

 dragon fly sent them, at first, screaming to the darkest 

 corners, though now they look on him placidly, but make 

 no effort to attack him. They will not touch corn when 

 I throw it to them, but will try persistently to swallow 

 lima beans, which are too large for them to manage. 



They seem to possess some slight reasoning power. 

 For instance, I feed them twice a day — morning and 

 evening— and always at the same place, in front of their 

 coop, some fifty yards from the kitchen door. As soon 

 as they hear the rattle of the spoon against the tin pan 

 they set off as fast as their legs can carry them, to the 

 coop, around which they are huddled, open-mouthed, 

 when I arrive. But they do this only toward sunset; at 

 no other time of the day do they pay any attention to it. 

 They did at first, but finding it no good., they have evi- 

 dently reasoned it out that only at a ceitaiu time, and at 

 a certain place, are they to be fed. They evidently, 

 therefore, have evolved conceptions of time and space. 



I notice almost as great an individuality among them 

 as though they were human beings. Although they are 

 all the same breed— pure Plymouth Rocks— and have all 

 been handled alike, some are so tame I can put my hands 

 upon them at any time, while others will not allow me 

 within ten feet of them, except at feeding time, Some 

 of the tamer ones, too, seem to be of an affectionate dis- 

 position, and when I pick them up cuddle down in my 

 lap like pet kittens, while others seem to simply endure 

 my handling, but without any return of feeling. One 

 likes to have his head and back stroked, and will remain 

 quiet for a long time under the operation; another stands 

 upon his dignity, and though he allows me to hold him 

 in my lap without protest, yet squawks and struggles 

 indignantly if I attempt to smooth down his feathers. 

 Some are bullies and are constantly pecking and worry- 

 ing the others; some are as meek as Moses, and accept all 

 kicks and cuffs uncomplainingly. One I have named the 

 Philosopher, from his habit of mounting a hillock, aud 

 remaining there in meditative contemplation till he 

 evolves some course of action, which he proceeds to de- 

 liberately carry out. He never seems to be in a hurry, 

 except at meal time, when he is as active as the rest. 

 Another one I call the Jew, from his Hebraic propensi- 

 ties " to keep all he has and get all he can." Some are 

 avaricious and greedy, some sulky and brooding; in fact, 

 I find a wonderful resemblance in them to the human 

 species. 



There is quite a difference, too, in their physical con- 

 ditions. Tuough they are all of the same hatching, and 

 have received precisely the same care and attention, yet 

 some are now fully three times as large a3 some of the 

 others. Some, too, are fully feathered, while some are 

 still running around scandalously naked. The size does 

 not depend upon sex T for the large ones are indiscrimin- 

 ately cockerels or hens, nor does the accession of feathers 

 depend upon size, for some of the largest are the worst 

 off in this respect. Though the eggs ail came from one 

 hen and wrere all impregnated by the same cock, both 

 pedigreed fowls, yet some of the chicks are bare-shanked, 

 some feathered down to the toes, some heavy-bodied and 

 long-legged. Can these differences be attributed to re- 

 version back to different primal types? 



Later.— Since the above was written a dire misfortune 

 has overtaken me. A thieving possum found his way to 

 the coop aud in one night slaughtered nine of my pets. 

 But, Laus Deo! Vengeance overtook him, for in endeav- 

 oring to get out at the same hole between the slats by 

 which he entered, his foot slipped, and I found him in the 

 morning choked to death, h,s murderous career ended. 

 So at one fell swoop over half of my pets are gone, and 

 with the usual one sidedness of fate, they were the best 

 of the lot. The murderer was a connoisseur and picked 

 out the largest and plumpest of the flock. The Pniloso- 

 pher's early life is over, but the Jew is spared to con- 

 tinue his career of petty thievery. Since the tragedy 

 the survivors appear benumbed with horror. During 

 the day they skulk furtively around or sit fearfully 

 brooding under the shadow of the house, and at night, 

 instead of trooping noioily to the accustomed place 

 to roost, they huddle around me as I sit on the back 

 porch enjoying my pipe, and seem anxious to claim my 

 protection during the dreaded watches of the coming 

 night. Their nervous systems seem to have received 

 such a shock that I fear idiocy, or at the best melancholia, 

 may result. Think what a strain it must have been to 

 fearfully crouch all night, while a bloody assassin was 

 piling the floor with the mangled corpses of their broth- 

 ers and sisters! To fear that each moment their turn 

 might come nextl To hear the piteous cry as each new 

 victim breathed his last, to be followed by a moment of 

 si'lent agony, as the gore-stained murderer paused before 



selecting a new sacrifice! No wonder that the long 

 drawn out agony of tho-e hours of darkness and terror 

 has left an impress upon their sensitive minds, which 

 time alone can remove. H. P. TJ. 



Louisiana. 



THE GROUSE OF UTAH. 



IT has always seemed remarkable to me that the men 

 of science could find so many different species of 

 grouse in the regions that they have passed over once 

 perhaps, and I have hunted over for years and with the 

 single purpose of learning just how many species of birds 

 and animals could be found. 



Now, it is well known that food and climate differing 

 will produce a difference in the same species of animals 

 or birds. The early years of my observations of the 

 grouse family were spent in northern New York, where 

 the ruffed grouse, commonly known as the partridge, 

 was abundant. This bird further south is called pheas- 

 ant. But whether in the Adirondacks, Pennsylvania, 

 Maryland or Ohio, with slight differences caused by dif- 

 ferences of food and climate, it is the same variety of the 

 grouse family. And precisely the same bird is very com- 

 mon in northern Utah. The same general color, the 

 marks on the fan-shaped tail, the drumming propensity, 

 and every motion are all precisely those of the Eastern 

 partridge, pheasant or ruffed grouse. Nor in my judg- 

 ment are there two species, one differing, from the above, 

 in the Northern States and Canada, generally called the 

 spruce grouse. The ruffed grouse eats spruce bud3 in 

 winter, when he can't get the buds of .the birch, which 

 he likes much better; but in summer berries, beech nuts 

 in fall, and buds in winter are his common food. After 

 filling their crop with buds, I have seen them pitch from 

 their tree into the snow in a thick cedar swamp, and 

 there they remain, if not molested, until a thaw occurs, 

 when they come out for another feed. When in this 

 condition the snow prevents freezing, and if the fox or 

 lynx (wildcat) does not happen to discover them, they 

 can and do remain a month or more in a torpid state, 

 without food and apparently without inco ivenience. 



In Utah this grouse is found in the thick covers along 

 the creek bottoms and from seven to ten thousand feet 

 above the level of the sea, The blue grouse or pine hen 

 is a larger bird than the ruffed grouse. In summer it 

 ranges the more open hillsides in search of berries, and 

 at the beginning of the winter they get into large flocks 

 and betake themselves to the pine groves where they 

 manage to live on the buds of the spruce pine. 



A third species of grouse found here is a handsome 

 bird, reddish brown with white specks, and should he 

 looked for in suxmer in the willows of the streams, high 

 up in the hills and in the high grass of small damp prair- 

 ies. When flushed he rises quick and flies v< . ry fast. 

 After the first hundred yards of flight he commences to 

 sail and begins to cackle something like the domestic hen 

 at times. This species is known to Western sportsmen as 

 the specked grouse, or the cackler, and is often referred 

 to as the willow grouse. 



The fourth species is the sage cock, whose habitat and 

 habits are tolerably well known. This bird likes high 

 hillsides as well as the otherthree varieties, and as he has a 

 stomach in place of a gizzard, he is generally put down by 

 writers as not being a grain eater. The sage cock will 

 eat the leaves from sage brush when it cannot get ber- 

 ries or grain, but it will go further for a morning feed 

 from a wheat field than ^ny bird I know except a wild 

 goose. I have killed sage hens with stomachs filled with 

 lipe wheat picked up the same morning, in places where no 

 wheat was to be had nearer than eight miles, and in fact 

 with no cultivation of any kind nearer in any direction. 

 They fly long distances in search of food but return to 

 roost in the same place at night, generally on some steep 

 sidehill and free from shrubs or high grass. This I con- 

 clude is to prevent surprise from cat, fox or coyote, 

 always found in the country of the sage cock. 



There is no unpleasant flavor to the flesh of any of 

 these varieties of grouse in summer and fall, where they 

 range in the Mils; and in my judgment the flesh of a sage 

 chicken, two-thirds grown, has the finest flavor of any. 

 I have killed the four species of grouse in a walk of half 

 a mile after seeing the firot one in Parley's Park, east of 

 Salt Lake. 



The sage cock goes to some spring to drink, and visits 

 its watering place about sundown in the summer. The 

 chicks, until full-fledged, depend lor safety on squatting 

 down when overtaken by the hunter, and it does not 

 matter whether there is grass or bare ground, the bird is 

 rarely discovered, except with a dog, or unless the sports- 

 man is actually about to step on it. A chick, half-grown, 

 when separated from the rest of the brood, s-ets up and 

 keeps up a plaintive note, which no one could doubt was 

 the note of a bird lost and very sorry to be in that con- 

 dition. I have no doubt that this fowl can be profitably 

 domesticated. It is larger than the domestic hen, and in 

 my judgment the flesh is greatly preferable. In south- 

 ern Utah the sage cock is found only on the high moun- 

 tains. Indeed, it is only there that grass and berries c m 

 be found. In the extreme southern part of Utah part- 

 ridges or quail are plenty. They do not go north on to 

 the higher tablelands, but are confined to that part of our 

 Territory known as Dixie. Geo. H. Wyman. 



Utah. 



National Museum Notes.— Professor Ridgway has 

 completed and handed in his report upon the steamer 

 Albatross buds. This report includes descriptions of a 

 number of new species from the Straits of Magellan and 

 the Galapagos Islands; the collections from the latter 

 locality being especially interesting and important, since 

 it includes birds from islands not previously visited by 

 any naturalist. The National Museum has received from 

 Mr. W. Knudsen a collection of birds' from Kanai, Sand- 

 wich Islands, which is of much interest. These are 

 being worked up by Dr, Stejneger. A valuable collection 

 of birds from Caucasia has been received from the Tiflis 

 Museum of Natural History — a region previously entirely 

 unrepresented in the bird collections of the National 

 Museum. The bird collection of the National Museum 

 having outgrown the capacity of the old cabinets to such 

 an extent as to prevent satisfactory arrangement of the 

 study series, some new cabinets, constructed on a differ- 

 ent principle and embodying all of the latest improve- 

 ments, are now being made, and the collection will soon 

 be rearranged in such a manner as to render every speci- 

 men easily accessible. 



