302 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Nov. 7. 1889. 



lit ^partsnjmt %onmt 



UNC* JIM'S 'SPEYUNCE. 



[It is a superstition among the older negroes around here, that 

 if one sees a nighthawk (or ha'nt-bird, as they call it) sitting on 

 a fence, and does not make it fly, some misfortune is sure to hap- 

 pen to him.] 



SEEK a ha'nt-bird on de fence; 

 Stidder scarin' urn offen hence- 

 Some fool niggers' got no sense ! 



Luff um stay. 

 Grwine home my ole mule slip, 

 Trowed me oher her head kerflip ! 

 Bus' mer nose, 'n' cut merlip, 



Dat same day. 

 Nex' day, mer gyarden gate onlatch; 

 Hawgs git in mer tater patch— 

 Mek um look ez ef Ole Scratch 



Hed bin dar. 

 Went er huntin' in de bawg — 

 Saw er rabbit 'hind er lawg— 

 Done shot at um— killed mer dawg 



Stedder ole bar'. 

 Den, m' ole 'oman— bone o' mer bone- 

 She tuk up wid Passon Jone— 

 Went libbin' wid him, 'n' luff me alone- 

 Mean ole rip ! 

 'N' dat young huzzy— 'Mazen Grace- 

 Wat 1 dun 'suade to took her place- 

 Stay jest er week— den slap mer face — 



'N' she done skip. 

 Den dat triflin' Gunnel Briggs— 

 Jes' caze I horrid one er his pigs, 

 Ter holp mer save mer crap er figs, 



W'at wuz rottin'— 

 He swore I stole um— den an' dar— 

 Hed me up before the Squar— 

 Sent me ter jail fur mos' a y'ar— 



Jes' for not) in. 

 Dass why I says it— pintedly— 

 'F you see ha'nt-bird, 'n' don' mek um fly, 

 Bad luck is er comin' mighty nigh 



Somebuddj 's doo'. 

 Er ef he holler in de night- 

 Holler free times, 'n' den stay quiet— 

 Somebuddy gwine die 'fore mawnin' light, 

 Sartin sho'. 



Louisiana. , H. P. U. 



THE ISLE OF CORMORANTS. 



IF THERE is in this world a realization of the poet't, 

 ideal of the Isles of Bliss, it is to be found in those 

 waifs and strays of land which seern to have been flung 

 into the ocean in sheer cap»ce, when nature, in her 

 grandest mood, upheaved the North Island of New 

 Zealand from the depths of the Pacific. Some of these, 

 such as Rangitoto, "blood red sky," the most perfect ex- 

 tinct volcano known, are mere picturesque masses of lava 

 and scoria, which may not be covered with vegetable 

 soil for ages to come. Others, not less volcanic in their 

 origin, are already among the most fertile spots on earth, 

 clothed to the mountain tops with evergreen forest or turf 

 so vivid it is difficult to believe it is not artificial, and, on 

 the lower levels, reveling in gorgeous flowering shrubs 

 that robe the very rocks of the shore with beauty, shade 

 the white beaches under their spreading arms, or trail 

 their crimson blossoms in the sparkling waves themselves. 

 The Frith of Thames, immediately outside of Auckland 

 Harbor, is dotted with these delicious inlets; and any one 

 who is blessed with a love of nature and a taste for sport 

 can gratify both there in a variety of ways. Many of the 

 islands have been stocked with deer, hares and pheasants 

 while every secluded inlet is alive with wildfowl, and 

 every reach of open water is frequented by gannets and 

 tern, and sometimes the rare and beautiful boatswain 

 bird, with tail feathers of the brightest scarlet more than 

 a foot in length. The reefs and shoals and sunken ledges 

 among the islands are the favorite feeding places of all 

 kinds of fish, hapuka, or snapper, gurnard, moki, and a 

 host of others, while, wherever the gannets are seen to 

 hover, it is safe to count on a shoal of kawhai, the beauti- 

 ful sea salmon of those teeming waters. When you leave 

 Auckland in your sailing boat in the early morning to 

 beat down the bay, you never know what 'you may get 

 before you return by moonlight or starlight, running 

 swiftly before the unfailing southerly breeze that comes 

 up at sundown. Rifle, gun, rod and deep sea line may 

 all have helped to fill your boat, and the four hearty 

 meals you have made in the day, having taken nothing 

 with you but bread, tea and sugar, may have comprised 

 a m&nu varied and delicate enough to excite the envy of 

 a French cook. 



The gem of this lovely archipelago is the famous 

 Kawau, or Isle of Cormorants, so-called from the rocks 

 and cliffs upon its shores having been from time imme- 

 morial the chosen haunt and breeding place of innumer- 

 able flocks of those voracious buds. Kawau, pronounced 

 so as to rhyme exactly with "bow-wow," with the accent 

 on the "bow," which lies between thirty and forty miles 

 from Auckland, off the coast of Mahurangi, has a histor- 

 ical interest of a most peculiar kind. It was purchased 

 far back in the early days of the colony by Sir George 

 Grey, that "great proconsul," as he was called by one of 

 England's most famous statesmen, whose intrepid explor- 

 ations opened South Australia to the knowledge of the 

 world; who rescued South Africa from the chaos of Boer 

 revolt and Kaffir war: who was governor of New Zealand 

 during the twelve most eventful years of its history, and 

 whose adventurous and heroic career yet left him time 

 to become the greatest authority on Polynesian mythol- 

 ogy, philology and ethnology, and a most distinguished 

 litterateur, bibliopole and patron of art and science. Sir 

 George Grey, who is a passionate lover of nature and the 

 most fearless hunter I ever knew, bought Kawau for the 

 express purpose of making it an acclimatization garden 

 It seemed indeed to have been created for that purpose. It 

 has an area of about 5,000 acres, and its formation is such 

 that within that limited extent it has a mountain 1,200ft 

 high and a river navigable by canoes for several miles 

 A great part of it is covered with primeval forest, but it 

 has plateaux, valleys and glens, which afford an endless 

 variety of climate and surroundings. The flats along the 



shore are very rich, and the lower parts of the island lie 

 toward the mainland, distant twelve or fifteen miles, | 

 they are entirely protected from the ocean storms and 

 enjoy the full warmth of the northerly sun. On a shelt- 

 ered terrace, overlooking a romantic bay, in this secluded 

 paradise, the soldier, ruler, scholar, poet, sportsman, 

 philosopher, built himself a stately pleasure house of 

 chosen cedar wood, with its library, containing the 

 rarest collection in the Southern Hemisphere, its arm- 

 ory, its museum, unequalled in the world, in some 

 branches, its pictures and sculptures and trophies, 

 making every wall and corner of it luminous and elo- 

 quent of the life's work of one of the most distinguished 

 pillars of the Empire. Around the house he planted 

 a garden, which I am safe in saying contained the 

 most complete botanical collection to be found any- 

 where, in the open air. The rest of the island, with the 

 exception of a few fields for his live stock and the com- 

 fortable homesteads of his thirty or forty retainers, he de- 

 voted absolutely to the acclimatization of animals. From 

 all the countries which he had governed or where there 

 were learned societies or enthusiasts in correspondence 

 with him, he obtained zoological specimens, and from 

 remoter parts of the world, beyond the sphere of his per- 

 sonal influence, he brought them by the all-compelling 

 power of gold. It seemed as if he would never rest until 

 he had emulated the celebrated exploit of the patriarch 

 .Noah, and brought under his own charge a pair at least 

 of all the creatures upon earth. 



All this time, it should be borne in mind, Sir George 

 Grey was Governor of New Zealand, Commander-in-Chief 

 of the Forces and Vice-Admiral of the Fleet. A war, 

 moreover, was being conducted under his direct authority 

 by land and sea, in which were employed no fewer than 

 20,000 troops and ten great battle ships. It was this that 

 led him to make an experiment at Kawau, which was 

 his first failure and a momentous one. 



General Sir Duncan Cameron having inflicted a defeat 

 on the enemy — a most unusual occurrence — found him- 

 self in possession of 300 prisoners, Maori warriors, whom 

 he was at his wits' end to know what to do with. Ex- 

 perience had shown that no fort or jail or hulk would 

 hold them. It took a small army to guard them, even 

 for a few days after their capture, when they were half 

 starved and worn out with fatigue. Even then a good 

 many got away. In this difficulty the Governor came to 

 the General's assistance with an offer to take the whole 

 body of prisoners under his own care at Kawau, where, 

 he pointed out, they might receive that fair treatment 

 which was due them as brave men whom the fortunes 

 of war had placed in our hands, while, at the same time, 

 it was impossible for them to escape. They were, accord- 

 ingly, conveyed to Kawau and established in a camp of 

 huts built and furnished with every regard for their com- 

 fort ; a man-of-war being anchored "in the channel between 

 the island and the mainland. Sir George Grey visited 

 them and received quite an ovation of gratitude and 

 respect. Three nights later every man jack of them 

 escaped, swimming or wading from rock to rock or islet 

 to islet, and safely breasting the strong current along the 

 Mahurangi shore, under the very guns of the frigate. To 

 add insult to injury, they carried off the camp utensils 

 and fixings, and a number of articles belonging to Sir 

 George Grey, After that, the Governor determined to 

 exclude the human race from his biological studies. A 

 few years later he had a serious difference with the Im- 

 perial Government, and retired into private life at Kawau, 

 where he found a solace for all his griefs and disappoint- 

 ments among his books and plants and animals. 



Thenceforward he carried on his acclimatizing opera- 

 tions with redoubled vigor; his activity in that respect 

 being almost the only tie that connected him with the 

 outside world for many years. I have known Sir George 

 Grey since my boyhood, and, with my love of natural 

 history, one of the most memorable pleasures of my life 

 was a visit I paid him at Kawau after he had made it his 

 permanent residence. He was a most charming host, and 

 nothing gave him greater satisfaction than to show the 

 wonders of his island to a guest in sympathy with his 

 own tastes. It needed some nerve, however, to keep up 

 to his standard of what a forester should be. One day he 

 proposed that we should go to see his herd of wild cattie, 

 of which he was exceedingly proud; and having taken 

 me for a mountain clirnb, which alone was a good morn- 

 ing's work, carrying a rifle and cartridge belt, he expressed 

 a hope that we should come across a bull which was 

 known to frequent the locality where we were. Sure 

 enough, we did come across the bull, a truly magnificent 

 animal, which no sooner saw us, as we emerged from the 

 bush into a little flat where it was browsing, than it gave 

 a terrific bellow, pawed the ground for a moment, and 

 came straight at Sir George Grey, who was a little ahead 

 of me. Sir George calmly raised his rifle to his shoulder, 

 waited till the furious beast was so close that I thought 

 he must have been gored to death next moment, and then 

 brought it to earth by a bullet which actually penetrated 

 the curl in the middle of its forehead, the most vulner- 

 able part of a bull, he explained to me, which you should 

 always strike — if you can. The muzzle of the "bull, as he 

 fell dead, was not five yards from Sir George Grey's feet. 



I took a note of the animals and birds successfully ac- 

 climatized at Kawau at that time. They included red, 

 fallow^ and roe deer, several kinds of antelope, kangaroo, 

 wallabi, hares and rabbits, ostrich, emu, peafowl, pheas- 

 ants, black swan, quail, numerous waterfowl and all the 

 common English song birds. These were all quite wild, 

 taking care of themselves without any sort of protection 

 or encouragement. One of the finest spectacles was 

 afforded by the peafowl, which had become very numer- 

 ous, flying about among the highest trees and sometimes 

 passing over our heads in flocks, as we ascended the lit- 

 tle river in a canoe. The bush was literally alive with 

 creatures of one sort or another., much like the jungle in 

 India, only without the reptiles or the carnivorae. Near 

 the house, in small inclosures, was a perfect menagerie 

 of other animals which were evidently thriving, but 

 were not suitable to be turned loose. 



Quite recently I had a talk with Sir George Grey about 

 his island, and he spoke very despondingly about it. The 

 kangaroo and wallabi, he told me, had increased in num- 

 ber so enormously that they had fairly starved out the 

 cattle and sheep and seemed" likely to take entire posses- 

 sion of the island. Wallabi are marsupials a foot and a 

 half or two feet high, very like kangaroo, but more active 

 and more difficult to get rid of because they live in rocky 

 places and get into holes almost like rabbits. I asked Sir 

 George why he did not thin them out. He replied that 



he had killed more than 20,000 that year and as many the 

 year before, but that it appeared to "make no difference. 

 They were steadily and rapidly gaining on him in spite 

 of all this slaughter, and he was afraid he should have to 

 give up the struggle. Shortly after that, he presented - 

 his picture gallery, his magnificent library and unique 

 museum to the city of Auckland— a priceless gift, which 

 forms at this day one of the chief attractions of the place 

 —and having broken up his establishment, he sold Kawau 

 to some Australian speculators for less than half the 

 amount at which it had been assessed eight or ten years 

 earlier. He was literally driven out of the island by the 

 animals which he had brought there at great expense and 

 reared with unwearying pains. 



Tins result is especially interesting as a practical exem- 

 plification of the principle of the survival of the fittest. 

 It shows that the marsupial herbivorte, under favorable 

 circumstances as to climate and food, and exempt from 

 the attacks of natural enemies, will eventually occupy 

 the whole ground and displace all other animals, even in 

 a country that is not their own and is not at all like their 

 own in natural conditions. How things will end at 

 Kawau, I am sure I don't know. When I left New 

 Zealand some months ago, Sir George Grey was living at 

 Auckland, mainly engaged in supervising the catalogue 

 and arrangement of his princely gifts to the city; and the 

 new people had not yet gone into occupation of the 

 island. It will be curious to observe how they will get 

 on with their purchase, which simply consists at this 

 moment of 5,000 acres of kangaroo and wallabi, as thick 

 as they can live within the space. 



The island is practically worthless in its present state, 

 yet I know of no way in which the animals can be got 

 rid of or kept down sufficiently to make the pastures 

 available for stock. If it were open country the case 

 might be different; though in many parts of Australia, 

 where the country is quite open, the increase of the mar- 

 supials, through the destruction of their natural enemies, 

 the natives and the dingoes, has proved too much for the 

 sheep farmers. At Kawau the introduction of their na- 

 tural enemies would be of little use, because the land is 

 so broken and the cover so abundant that neither men 

 nor dogs could interfere with them very much. The very 

 circumstances which rendered Kawau exceptionally suit- 

 able for purposes of acclimatization make it impossible to 

 restore it to a servicable condition for any other purpose. 

 At all events it would cost twice as much to do so as the 

 island is worth. 



I could not help thinking of Kawau the other day, 

 when I saw an immense drayload of kangaroo skins in 

 Broadway, being taken, I suppose, to some tannery or 

 leather factory. If Kawau were situated somewhere in 

 Long Island, say, the commercial demand for the skins 

 would make it a most valuable property, and it would 

 pay handsomely to work it as a kangaroo farm and keep 

 the head of game constantly up to the full carrying 

 capacity of the land. Kangaroo skin makes very" soft 

 and pliable, yet very strong, leather, well suited for the 

 uppers of the lighter kinds of boots. It has the advan- 

 tage, too, of requiring very little tanning. There is a 

 common saying in Australia that you can kill a kangaroo 

 one Sunday and go to church in boots made of its skin 

 the next; and it is truer than most epigrams. But lying 

 away down there in the South Pacific, six weeks' steam 

 from any of the great markets of the world, an island full of 

 kangaroo skins, with the animals jumping about in them, 

 is an uncommonly heavy concern. 



A friend of mine in New York, with whom I have dis- 

 cussed this and kindred subjects, assures me that wherever 

 animals of any kind have become a nuisance by their 

 numbers, the American pot-hunters are quite equal to the 

 task of clearing them off in the shortest time on record. 

 Judging from the way in which game has been extermin- 

 ated in the Catskills, diminished in the Adirondack's, and 

 even seriously reduced in the rivers and groves of Flor- 

 ida, as I am told, I am inclined to think there is some- 

 thing in it. If these gentlemen feel inclined to try their 

 hand in a new field, I am sure they would be heartily 

 welcomed at Kawau, the Isle of Cormorants. 



Edward Wakefield. 



WOODCOCK IN TOWN. 



NEW YORK, Oct. 19.— Editor Forest and Stream: I 

 live just four blocks from the Brooklyn Bridge. On 

 Thursday morning last, at 10 o'clock, my wife, hearing a 

 knock at the door, opened it, and found a woodcock lying 

 on the stone steps. It had apparently flown against the 

 door. The tip of its bill was broken and blood was flow- 

 ing from its mouth. It was put in a basket in a warm 

 room, but died in the late afternoon. The bird was plump 

 and in fine condition. What induced this bird to come 

 so far within the city limits? S. E. 



A Chocolate-Colored Skunk.— We learn from Mr. 

 F. W. True, Curator of the Department of Mammals in 

 the U. S. National Museum, that the Government collec- 

 tion has recently secured a unique specimen of the little 

 striped skunk (Spilogcde putorius) from Morantown. 

 Kansas. Through incipient albinism the color of the 

 pelage is uniform chocolate instead of the usual jet black 

 with areas of white. Mr. True believes this to be the first 

 record of such an example. 



Another Argentine.— One of the statistical agents of 

 the U. S. Fish Commission writes that the crew of the 

 life-saving station at Biddeford Pool, Maine, recently 

 secured a second individual of the rare fish known as the 

 argentine (Argentina stlus). The first specimen of this 

 deep-water species taken at Biddeford Pool was for- 

 warded to the National Museum in 1886. The fish is 

 allied to the smelts, which it exceeds somewhat in size. 



American Ornithologists' Union.— Washington, D. 

 C, Oct. 14, 1889. — The seventh congress of the American 

 Ornithologists' Union will convene in New York city on 

 Tuesday, Nov. 12, 1889, at eleven o'clock A. M. The 

 meetings will be held in the American Museum of 

 Natural History, Eighth avenue and Seventy-seventh 

 street. A large attendance of associate members is hoped 

 for.— C. Hart Merriam, Secretary. 



