Deo, 25, 1896.] 



FOREST AND STREAM, 



4 5 8 



brush, under and over fallen logs and out into an open 

 field, where his statuesque attitude announced the game 

 at bay. 



[En passant: A shooter, not to say sportsman, from 

 J ackson was recently telling a friend that down his way 

 they paid little attention to the prohibitory clause in the 

 game law concerning quail, and that he and a game 

 warden had been out shooting them. There is another 

 warden who does the honors for the State in a massive 

 mansion in that city, with whom they should be made 

 acquainted. The brown beauties are fairly plenty, and 

 it would be exceedingly gra tifying now a,nd then to spend 

 a day in the fields after them, especially because a severe 

 winter plays greater havoc than many guns, but since 

 our chosen representatives have said "Thou shalt not," 

 gentlemen [ww respect the fiat; others should be com- 

 pelled to. If the open season were made tbe same as for 

 grouse or woodcock, two years would suffice to replace 

 the proliibitory clause, for many half -fledged broods 

 would fall easy victims in September and October to the 

 farmer and the hunter "for revenue only;" while the 

 same besom of destruction would sweep the huddled 

 bevy when tracked in the snows of December. There- 

 fore, if sportsmen would preserve for themselves a reas- 

 onable amount of quail shooting yearly in this State, let the 

 "opeu" be after the birds are strong of wing and before 

 the treacherous snow renders it possible for anything 

 with a gun to exterminate a bevy at a single shot. The 

 month of November would seem to answer the require- 

 ments, and it is believed that an amendment to the law 

 now in force, making that month open for quail, would 

 meet the approbation of free-trader and protectionist. 

 The law is very generally respected in this section, and 

 the mild winters have conspired to enable Bob White to 

 multiply very rapidly, so that one rarely spends a day 

 with dog and gun without being sorely tempted by the 

 rush and whirr of half a dozen large bevies. If the 

 winters continue propitious we shall one day have quail 

 shooting galore, and the vials of ridicule will be uncorked 

 on him who fails to bag 3iis twenty couple from sun to 

 sun.] 



As we approach the western limit of this little preserve 

 the alder growth disappears and before us lies a meadow 

 of small extent, through which meanders the little stream 

 along which we have been shooting. 



Hark! What's that? Seaipe, seaipe, and a fickle wing 

 disappers through the alders; seaipe, seaipe, and another 

 erratic shadow disappears in the same direction. Can it 

 be our old friends Scolopa/x wihonii, on which we had 

 our first field experience on the flats out Union avenue, 

 between Saratoga and the lake, as the full-fed Fancy 

 bowled along- to game dinners at Moon's or drum's? Yes, 

 the same. How they twist and dive and swerve to puzzle 

 the marksman and elude the shot! And how well they 

 succeed is attested by the number of empty shells after 

 four of the six flushed have joined their ox-eyed cousins 

 in the bag. 



Take a well-conditioned woodcock, pluck, sever head 

 and tarsi and lay breast up on the palm of your hand, 

 and what have you? A miniature turkey. Take a fat 

 snipe, treat it the same way, and what have you? A 

 miniature goose. Now take four of each so prepared and 

 minus the trail, and have your good wife bake them in a 

 pie, having an aperture in the upper crust for the occa- 

 sional introduction of such a sauce as she knows how to 

 concoct with a slight dash of eau de vie, and when you 

 see it brown and smoking hot and pass your plate the 

 second time, your gustatory nerves will tingle and you 

 will acknowledge it a fitting finale to a good day afield. 



Do I hear some one exclaim, "A vaunt, barbarian! 

 Would you so treat a woodcock?" Aye, aye, sir: and so 

 would you, had you once a finger in tbe pie. No need to 

 invoke Epicurus; his shade will beam benignantly upon 

 your board. 



Have brother sportsmen noted that cock migrate earlier 

 in the autumn than formerly? 



Ten years ago when with Raymond, Rich and Hodg- 

 man, the Adirondacks, a few miles from the terminus of 

 the railroad of that name, used to be our favorite shoot- 

 ing ground for grouse and woodcock, we always counted 

 on the "flight" coming on during the last week or ten 

 days of October; two years ago, what time in sadness we 

 buried "Peter the Hermit" on the banks of the Hudson, 

 H. and I fagged early and late over the same ground at 

 the same time of the month, but the cock were not there. 

 Last year they left central Michigan unusually early, and 

 this year we have not moved one since the day herein 

 Chronicled, 



From cover where in September one could guarantee 

 to put up from ten to fifteen couple in a day, by the mid- 

 dle of the following month not a bird remained. Since 

 the birds bred there they must have migrated during or 

 before the first quarter of the October moon. 



The rich find of the lbth is accounted for on the theory 

 that the birds moving from their breeding grounds in the 

 neighborhood and along the river, dropped into this ideal 

 shelter, and finding a warm, sweet soil containing an 

 abundant supply of their favorite food, were loath to 

 leave and so tarried to our delectation. 



After thoroughly beating the open pasture for more 

 snipe, an empty stomach, a few pattering rain drops and 

 the rumble of distant thunder warn us to seek lunch and 

 shelter in the hayloft of the bain where our conveyance 

 was left five hours before. Faster fails the rain as we cut 

 across lots, and entering a piece of woods a small covey 

 of ruffed grouse flushed with a roar of wings from a brush 

 pile, and each man dropped his bird. If it had rained 

 Greek-fire we would have followed the fugitives; and it 

 was worth the effort, as the lightning lit up the now 

 darkening forest before each crash of thunder, and the 

 rain was swept by the driving wind in drenching sheets 

 about our shivering frames, to see Stephens make a clean 

 kill at long range on a grouse going like a rocket before 

 the gale. 



Ah. what a day! The fun was fast and furious! 

 ' "Yes," remarks the perpetrator of that pie, as by the 

 light of the library lamp she fastens a button on my 

 shooting coat, "but you were a thoroughly saturated and 

 dejected trio as you drove home through the storm; now 

 confess that you were utterly miserable!" I answered, 

 "You know we always refer to it with a smile." 



And further deponent sayeth not. L. A. S. 



Michigan. . 



A Book About Indians.— The Forest and Stream will mail 

 free on application a deseriotire circular of Mr. Grinnell'3 book, 

 "Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales," giving a table of contents 

 and specimen illTsetrations from tbe volume,— Adv. 



THE WOODCOCK'S WHISTLE. 



NOTHING that I have read for a long time has inter- 

 ested me so much as Mr. Trumbull's account of his 

 captive woodcock. It certainly deserves the encomium 

 which you bestow on it editorially, for it is a fascinating 

 story as well as an important piece of evidence. Never- 

 theless, I cannot think you justified in saying that it 

 "would seem to finally dispose of the vexed question as 

 to how the woodcock whistles," or in assuming that those 

 "who have taken the ground that the sound is made by 

 the wings" are now proved to be wholly in the wrong. 

 Mr. Trumbull, it is true, appea*a to entertain the same 

 opinion, but he is less positive, and his article affords in- 

 ternal evidence either that his conclusions are not wholly 

 sustained by the observations on which they rest or that 

 he has failed to express these conclusions with entire 

 clearness and precision. 



For example, he says in one place that the vocal notes 

 of his bird were so like the whistling of ducks' wings as 

 actually to deceive his companion, Mr. Marchant, into 

 the belief that wild ducks were passing over at the time; 

 yet in the closing paragraph of his article he affirms that 

 "when a woodcock 'twitters' he squeals, pipes, squeaks, 

 rather than whistles," and adds, "The sound made in 

 swift flight by the wings of this and other specie. 1 -; — many 

 of our ducks, for example — is perhaps more appropriately 

 termed a whistle." Again, while asserting quite posi- 

 tively in two different connections that he, as well aa 

 several friends who were fortunate enough to participate 

 in the observations, were convinced that some of the 

 vocal note3 were identical with those made by free birds 

 during ordinary flight, he admits that they "were seldom 

 so loud or energetic as those of the flushed bird, nor were 

 most of them like those heard in the cover. Yet at 

 almost every trial there was at least one squeaky enough 

 to be regarded as very nearly the sound we were listening 

 for, certainly enough like it to convince any doubter who 

 happened to be present that a flushed cock 'talks with his 

 mouth.' " 



I do not call attention to these passages in any spirit of 

 idle controversy, nor with the least intention of discredit- 

 ing the observations to which they relate, but simply be- 

 cause they appear to me to furnish some grounds for sus- 

 pecting that Mr. Trumbull's observations have not proved 

 quite all that he, as well as you, Mr. Editor, seem disposed 

 to claim. 



In a letter that appeared in the issue of Forest and 

 Stream for Aug. 22, 1889, 1 called attention to the marked 

 variation of the woodcock's whistle, and, in concluding, 

 said: "That while I believe most firmly that all the vari- 

 ous modifications of whistling and twittering which the 

 woodcock makes while flying are produced by the nar- 

 row, stiffened primary quills, I do not wish to be under- 

 stood as denying that at least some of these sounds may 

 be vocal." I confess that these words were added at the 

 close of my letter more with some vague idea of guard- 

 ing against possible error than from any real expectation 

 that they might come true; but during the two shooting 

 seasons that have passed since they were written 1 have 

 been struck repeatedly by the apparent vocal quality of 

 some of the sounds accompanying a woodcock's flight, 

 and more than once have felt strong suspicions that my 

 original position iu the matter might be partly wrong. 

 Mr. Trumbull has now shown conclusively that it was 

 partly wrong, for I no longer doubt that some at least 

 of the sounds which I believe to be made by the wings 

 are really vocal. But has he proved that all are vocal? 

 What becomes of the testimony of those of us who have 

 held slightly wounded birds by the bill and heard the 

 ringing sounds of the flushed cock coming directly and 

 unmistakably (as we have thought) from the beating pin- 

 ions; at first, as the wings moved rapidly and vigorously, 

 in a continous silvery trill, then, as the bird became tired 

 and. relaxed its efforts, more faintly and disconnectedly, 

 each note exactly accompanying a downward stroke of 

 the wing. Were our birds also "talking with their 

 mouths" and deluding us the while by idle pantomime? 

 What, moreover, can be the function of the attenuated 

 primaries (I suppose we may no longer call them whistling 

 quills)? How does Mr. Trumbull explain the fact (at- 

 tested by several good observers) that moulting woodcock 

 who lack these quills never whistle, and the still more 

 significant fact (which I have noted repeatedly, especially 

 during the last two seasons) that birds which have nearly 

 finished the moult and have the stiffened primaries nearly 

 but not quite fully grown whistle more faintly than do 

 birds in perfect plumage? Is the woodcock dumb when 

 moulting and does he afterward graduate his vocal twit- 

 ter in nice accord with the different stages of growth of 

 his curious primary quille? 



These and similar questions have occurred to me in 

 thinking over Mr, Trumbull's testimony. I do not see 

 how they can be answered if we must conclude that Mr. 

 Trumbull is wholly right and we of the other side wholly 

 wrong. It is as if some high authority on dogs were to 

 assert that pointers and setters depend wholly on their 

 sense of hearing in searching for game, and in proof of 

 such assertion were to narrate a series of the most con- 

 vincing experiments. A dog was first hunted with his 

 eyes and nose bandaged in such a way that it was impos- 

 sible for him to see or smell anything. He made a num- 

 ber of staunch points and was observed to pause and 

 listen attentively while drawing on his birds. When 

 pointing there was a slight but significant raising and 

 lowering of the ears. Then his nose and eyes were freed 

 and his ears stuffed tightly. While in this condition he 

 ran over bird after bird and evinced unmistakable sur- 

 prise and disgust at flushing them. None of the motions 

 of the nose or hps which have been mentioned by writers 

 as accompanying the act of drawing on game were de- 

 tected, although they were carefully looked for. It was 

 ascertained, however, that the nose was of some use in 

 finding a piece of meat. These experiments were made 

 in the presence of a number of well-known sportsmen, all 

 of whom expressed astonishment at the result, but 

 acknowledged it no longer possible to deny that a dog 

 discovers the presence of game solely by his sense of 

 hearing. 



Such a comparison may seem absurd on first thought, 

 but is it really so after serious consideration? In the two 

 cases there is of course this difference; the dog has been 

 so long and closely associated with man that the precise 

 nature of the functions performed by his eyes, nose and 



ears may be assumed to be very perfectly understood; 

 whereas, the woodcock, despite the fact that it is so 

 generally hunted, is certainly known intimately but to 

 few, if indeed to any one. Nevertheless I confess I am 

 almost as ready to believe that my pointer's nose is a 

 mere ornamental appendage and that I have to thank his 

 keenness of hearing for the many birds that he has 

 enabled me to bag, as I am to credit the assumption that 

 the woodcock's attenuated primaries are used merely to 

 produce sounds similar to those "made by many kinds of 

 birds," and that a flushed cock talks only "with his 

 mouth." I admit that dogs are occasionally guided in 

 the direction of a bird by bo me noise that it makes and 

 that at times they point game which they see but do not 

 smell; but I have abundant proofs that scent is the faculty 

 on which they chiefly depend. 



So with the woodcock I have had experiences which 

 have convinced me that the sound ordinarily made by the 

 rising bird is produced by the wings. Mr. Trumbull, on 

 the other band, has heard this sound or something very 

 like Lib given by a captive woodcock which, at the time, 

 was standing on the ground with its wings tightly closed 

 and which accompanied the notes by a slight but evident 

 movement of its throat or breast. Sure of the correctness 

 of his own impressions he not unnaturally concludes that 

 the senses of other observers must have deceived them, 

 and accordingly passes over their testimony in silence in 

 drawing his final conclusions. If it must be admitted 

 that the sounds which he has shown to be vocal are iden- 

 tical with those which some of us believe we have traced 

 to the wings, the question is indeed settled, for, however 

 good our proofs, Mr. Trumbull's are obviously better, and 

 it is idle to claim that the .same sounds are produced in 

 radically different ways. But may there not be two 

 sounds seemingly much alike but really of different 

 character and origin? 



It becomes evident on close reading of Mr. Trumbull's 

 article that he is not quite sure of his identification 

 of these vocal notes; in other words he hesitates to 

 assert that they were positively the same as those 

 of the. flushed bird. They "were seldom so loud or 

 energetic * * * nor we're most of them like those 

 heard in the cover," but were sufficiently similar "to be 

 regarded as very nearly the sound we were listening for," 

 while others "seemed absolute reproductions of those of 

 the flushed bird as we remember them; it is, of course, 

 impossible to recall them literally enough for nice com- 

 parison, no matter how often they have thrilled us." In 

 any ordinary case the very frankness of these admissions 

 would prevent the critic from using them against a writer 

 who shows such evident determination to be entirely fair 

 and accurate at possible expense to his argument, and it 

 would be manifestly unwarrantable to claim that the 

 mere opinions of an ornithologist and sportsman of Mr. 

 Trumbull's standing and experience are not entitled to 

 much weight. 



But the case is not an ordinary one, and the entire con- 

 fidence which otherwise might be reposed in Mr. Trum- 

 bull's convictions must be more or less affected by the 

 fact that other sportsmen have recorded directly opposite 

 convictions based on evidence which cannot be lightly 

 disregarded. In this connection it also seems fair to in- 

 sist that if the importance of a direct comparison of 

 sounds be conceded, the advantage lies with the support- 

 ers — perhaps I should now say the defenders— of the wing 

 theory, for their experiments have been made in the 

 covers and immediately after listening to the sound of 

 the flushed bird. As far as my personal experiences of 

 this kind are concerned, I will say that I have no doubts 

 whatever that the sound made by the wounded bird a3 I 

 held it in my hand was identical with that which it had 

 given on rising only a minute or two before. It may be 

 objected that I was deceived as to the origin of this 

 sound, even although i held the bird within a few inches 

 of my face. I admit that this is possible, but it is not to 

 my mind more probable than that Mr. Trumbull was also 

 deceived, and that his captive really made its various 

 twitters, squeaks and murmurs by an undetected rabbing 

 together or "stridulation" of its stiffened primary quills — 

 a theory which I am not, of course, disposed to maintain. 



What I do maintain is simply this, that some of Mr. 

 Trumbull's conclusions relating to the flight sounds of 

 the woodcock are not satisfactorily proven by his own 

 observations, while they are directly negatived by the 

 experience of certain other sportsmen, whose testimony 

 should not be arbitrarily dismissed. If , however, it can 

 be shown that some of these conclusions have been a 

 trifle too broadly drawn and that Mr. Trumbull, in com- 

 mon with others who have written on the subject, has 

 fallen into error in supposing that all the characteristic 

 flights of the woodcock are produced in the same way, 

 most of the difficulties of the case will at once disappear. 

 In other words, why may it not be that the "twitter" as- 

 certained by Mr. Trumbull to be vocal has in some of its 

 variations so strong a resemblance to a twitter-like, 

 whistle made by the wings that the two have been gen- 

 erally, if not universally, confused by ornithologists and 

 sportsmen? 



At first thought this suggestion may not seem to differ 

 materially from that advanced in the closing paragraph 

 of Mr. Trumbull's article; but Mr. Trumbull apparently 

 indorses the idea expressed in his quotation from Frank 

 Forrester that the "twitter" and "whistle" are habitually 

 given simultaneously by birds of perfect plumage, and in 

 this and other connections he distinctly implied that the 

 "whistle" is at best a slight and in no way characteristic 

 sound, and that it is usually drowned by the vocal note, 

 the latter being the sound ordinarily heard from a rising 

 woodcock. 



Now what I have found to be the characteristic sound 

 of a full-feathered woodcock on rising and afterward 

 during vigorous, protracted flight is a clear, continuous, 

 pulsating whistle closely similar to that made by the wings 

 of certain ducks, but louder (perhaps because the wood- 

 cock is usually nearer than ducks are apt to be) and rather 

 more silvery and musical in tone. It is not subject, so 

 far as I have observed, to marked modifications of tone, 

 but the pulsations vary in distinctness with the speed at 

 which the bird is moving. In very rapid flight they are 

 often so run together as to be inappreciable. This whistle I 

 believe to be made by the wings, or rather by the well known 

 specialized outer primaries. I have never heard it from 

 a bird which lacked these quills, nor on the other hand 

 have I known a bird in which they proved to be fully 

 developed rise in the ordinary manner without whistling, 

 although a crafty old cock will not infrequently steal off 

 close to the ground, moving its wings in a peculiar quiv- 



