4B4 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[Dec. 25, 1890. 



ering way, very like that of a rail, or mount straight up- 

 ward with slow, lazy flapping, much in the manner of an 

 owl and quite as silently, 



The sotuid to which I should restrict the term twitter 

 is so difficult to describe that I find myself unable to 

 characterize it briefly and aptly, it is shriller and more 

 metallic or steel-like than the whistle, and very much 

 more varied, the key rising or falling sharply. Unlike 

 the whistle it is rarely uniform and never, I think, con- 

 tinuous, the notes being given in an explosive volley or 

 succession of volley, with abrupt pauses between. This 

 sound has been compared to the twitter of the kingbird, 

 to which, at times, it certainly bears some resemblance. 

 It has also reminded me of the outcry of a chipmunk 

 squirrel. According to my experience woodcock twitter 

 oftenest when circling over a cover preparatory to 

 alighting or when hi the act of alighting they flap their 

 wings a few times to check the speed of their descent, I 

 ha ve also frequently heard the twitter from a bird which 

 had been only slightly startled and which, at that time, 

 was flitting irresolutely a few yards before dropping to 

 the ground again. I have heard it oftenest at night or in 

 the evening twilight, when birds were coming into a 

 cover or moving froni place to place on leisurely wing 

 in search of feeding ground. I have never heard it, so 

 far as I can remember, from a startled woodcock in 

 swift vigorous flight. Despite the differences just noted 

 the twitter resembles the whistle so closely in general 

 tone and character that until very recently I have be- 

 lieved it to be merely a variation of the same sound. But 

 since reading Mr. Trumbull's article I am convinced that 

 whatever the origin of the whistle the twitter is certainly 

 vocal. 



I trust that no one will misconstrue either the spirit or 

 the letter of what I have just written. It would have 

 been much easier and pleasanter to accept Mr. Trumbull's 

 conclusions in toto than to try to pick" flaws in them. 

 But as I cannot believe them to be wholly sound, I have 

 felt constrained to point out wherein they seemed to me 

 incompatible with known or assured facts. It will be ob- 

 served, however, that even if my objections and counter- 

 conclusions are sustained, the general accuracy of Mr, 

 Trumbull's observations and deductions will be but 

 slightly affected. To those of us who have supported the 

 other side, the alternative is less flattering, for with 

 respect to our position the question is now simply whether 

 we have been wholly or only partly in the wrong. Never- 

 theless, I am sure that we cannot but feel grateful to Mr. 

 Trumbull for the flood of light which he has cast on a 

 hitherto obscure subject. William Brewster. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In your editorial comments on Mr. Gurdon Trumbull's 

 article on the woodcock, in your edition of the 11th inst., 

 you say that no one had remarked on the curving of the 

 upper mandible of the bill. I have had but little oppor- 

 tunity for studying the woodcock, never having lived in 

 a section where the bird is more than a casual visitor, but 

 I have had the good luck to see the bird curve the man- 

 dible while I held him, eutirely uninjured, in my hand. 



Back in the early 80s (I cannot say which), while 

 stationed at the Boston Navy Yard, some men of my 

 department saw a woodcock light on the ground and run 

 into a pile of lumber: they secured him without starting 

 a feather, and brought him to me. I put him in a wire 

 house in which my children had had some rabbits and 

 kept him four days. I did not have the time to give to a 

 close study of his habits, but one thing I did have my 

 attention called to and that was the curving of the bill. 

 I had the bird in my hand before putting him in the in- 

 closure and while examining; the head and eyes I took 

 hold of the tip of the bill and immediately on my letting 

 go he curved the bill exactly as shown in Mr. Trumbull's 

 sketch. I was uneasy at first, thinking I had injured the 

 bill, but in a short time the bill was in its proper shape. 

 I repeated the thing three or four times and always with 

 the same result. 



I did not see the bird feed, although I have no doubt 

 that he did so, for after four days' confinement he was as 

 plump as any bird I ever saw, there were plenty of worms 

 in the earth in the inclosure and I kept a place very wet, 

 but did not examine for borings. 



At first the bird was quite wild, and when I would go 

 into the inclosure would start to fly, but would bring up 

 against the screen and fall back, I thought at first he 

 would kill himself, but the hard knocks did not seem to 

 hurt him in the least. In all of his quick short flights I 

 did not hear the peculiar noise the woodcock makes in 

 flight; I did hear the noise noted by Mr. Trumbull when 

 I approached the bud. 



He got very tame, and on the fourth day when I took 

 him out of the cage to set him at liberty I had no trouble 

 in catching him, he allowed me to pick him up without 

 trying to get away from me, and when I reached the open 

 fields and let him out of the basket he walked around, 

 with my wife and me just standing within 10ft, of him, 

 for at least a minute before he took flight. 



The bird was very interesting, and I was sorry I did 

 not have the time to observe him more thoroughly. 



As to the sound, made by the woodcock when in flight, 

 I do not believe in the "wing theory" any more than I 

 believe that the sheep of the snipe is made by the 

 wings. U. S. G. White. 



Norfolk, Va., Dec. lfi. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Mr. Gurdon Trumbull's article on the "American Wood- 

 cock" that recently appeared in the Forest and Stream 

 is one of the most vivacious, concise and beautiful mono- 

 graphs that ever graced a sportsman's journal. This is 

 saying considerable, but it is a fact nevertheless, Mr. 

 Trumbull is a practical ornithologist — by this I mean one 

 who does not deal in any guesswork or hearsay evidence, 

 but one who studiously finds out all the "whys and where- 

 fors" himself. He knows how to express his views as a 

 naturalist so that one need not be a graduate from some 

 university or college to understand what subject is being- 

 treated. 'Mr. Trumbull being a sportsman and knowing 

 the needs of sportsmen, has done more in an ornithologi- 

 cal way for them than all other writers combined. Mr. 

 Trumbull's book, "Names and Portraits of Gime Birds," 

 possesses more real merit, intrinsic value and common 

 sense to the square inch than any other work on these 

 birds ever published. With that work you have no use 

 fomine dead languages, keys, charts and other entangle- 

 ments usually dealt in by those who have attempted to 

 write about birds. What Mr, Trumbull writes about birds 1 



is written while in close contact with his subject, he hav- 

 ing traveled thousands of miles to study some of his 

 subjects. Nothiug goes forth from his pen but what can 

 be relied on to the fullest extent. Mr. Trumbull is a close 

 student of bird life, and his opportune article on the 

 American woodcock deserves more than apa3sing notice- 

 it is a diamond of the first water. A. C. Collins. 

 Hartford, Conn. 



SNOWY OWLS. 



Editor Forest and Stream; 



We have been having a tegular epidemic of Arctic 

 owls m this portion of the State lately. They have been 

 seen in large numbers everywhere within a radius of at 

 least thirty miles. They are wary birds, and seem able 

 to see in the day time as well as anybody. However, 

 some twelve or fifteen have been kdled in this section, 

 your correspondent getting two. Those killed averaged 

 about 4lbs. in weight, and a spread of wing of about 5ft. 

 Some were nearly all white, with a few gray or blackish 

 markings on head and back. Others have considerable 

 dark color above. Most of them were sold at prices from 

 $1 to $8.50, the whitest birds bringing most money. 

 Dealers say these birds in former years were worth $ 15 

 to $20, but this year the market is bearish, owing to their 

 great plenty. They are the toughest birds I ever saw, 

 because of the great mass of feathers upon them, it beiug 

 nearly impossible to kill them outright. E. W. L. 



Pine Point, Me. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Two of the largest owls seen in this locality of late 

 years were killed yesterday by a vessel captain at Little 

 Creek. They were choice specimens of the Polar owl, a 

 rare bird on these shores. The larger bird measured 54in. 

 from tip to tip; had talons Sin. in length, and weighed 51bs. 

 The plumage was mostly pure white; the hackle and 

 wing and tail feathers, with a few on the breast, having 

 delicate brown bars. The legs and feet were heavily 

 booted, the feathers being more hair-like than fluffy. 

 The birds are supposed to have come ashore from some 

 iceberg floating near the Atlantic coast. 



I inclose you some feathers taken from the breast of one 

 of these owls. Del. A. Ware. 



Dover, Del. 



[These are feathers of the Arctic owl (Nyctea nyetea).] 



The Grouse in the Water.— Edit or Forest and 

 Stream: In your issue of Dec. 4 Mr. Bishop, of Kent- 

 vine, N. S., gives an account of finding a ruffed grouse 

 submerged to the head in water, whither it had dived to 

 escape its cruel pursuer, the goshawk. That was a very 

 interesting and rare occurrence we may believe, and 

 whatever others may think of the possession by animals 

 and birds of anything higher than what is termed in- 

 stinct, I am firmly of the opinion that the action of the 

 bird in question was the result of intelligent reasoning. 

 It did not dash itself on to the hard earth, but into a 

 medium that it knew would receive and cover it, and 

 there it remained, though in a situation totally foreign to 

 its natural habits. We can easily understand why a 

 duck should take to water to escape the eagle, for there it 

 is at home, but a grouse in water is all abroad. Whether 

 grouse bathe as birds do, I know not. They seek the 

 streams and pools to drink, and in so doing this grouse 

 may have received in some way the impression that this 

 medium would prove a refuge in time of danger. Why 

 didn't the hawk plunge in after the grouse? It is as 

 reasonable to claim that it i3 as natural for one to under- 

 stand, the harmlessness of the water as for the other to 

 believe in its protective power. We ai'e just going to 

 believe that this individual grouse put reason into his 

 action. It's better that way. If we were more accus- 

 tomed to look at such matters in this light, it might lead 

 us to temper love of slaughter with mercy. And the 

 cruelty which is inseparable from field sports struck me 

 with much force when I read that Mr. Bishop, after 

 shooting the hawk, took that trembling, terrified bird, 

 which had in such a trusting and admirable way escaped 

 the wicked beak and talons of its cruel enemy, and now 

 with pleading eyes just above the surface of the water 

 besought its other enemy to spare its life: Mr. Bishop, I 

 say, took the bird from its refuge and coolly wrung its 

 neck— O. O. S, 



"That reminds me." 



APROPOS of the "Free Lunch Man" in your last 

 week's edition, I may tell you a story applied to 

 our posting laws here. 



Two neighbors, whose farms adjoined, and through 

 whose farms a fine trout brook ran, each posted their sec- 

 tion of the brook at the fence which separated their 

 properties. One poster read, "No fishing on these prem- 

 ises." The other poster read, "Fish and be dashed! 

 Worms behind the barn." WHEELOCK. 

 Rutland, Vermont. 



There were five of us seated in Ely C. Taylor's con- 

 fectionery establishment on Pike street, one evening, dis- 

 cussing the merits and demerits of our present game 

 laws. While thus engaged a young man entered the 

 store, and presenting Taylor with his card, stated that he 

 represented a certain city daily, and that if anything of 

 interest had happened during our recent hunting trip in 

 the Olympics, he would be glad to record it. 



"Well," said Taylor, (with a knowing wink at bis com- 

 panions) "nothing occurred worthy of special mention, 

 but one incident did happen that I have al ways thought 

 unusually strange. I will tell you about it. One day I 

 had wandered into a dense forest, about three miles from 

 camp, and was keeping a sharp lookout for deer. Sud- 

 denly a monstrous elk burst from cover at my right, and 

 started to cross in front of me. Hastily throwing my 

 Winchester to my shoulder, I sent a .45-70 speeding in his 

 direction, and had the satisfaction of seeing him drop ap- 

 parently dead. I then set my gun against a tree and 

 started toward him. Judge of my surprise and alarm, 

 when near him, to have the elk bound to his feet now 

 thoroughly infuriated and bent on mischief. The only 

 thing I could do was to fly for a tree, and around the 

 butt of a big fir tree we circled. My coat tails barely 



cleared the mad beast's horns, and had I ever slipped — 

 well. After several minutes of this hide and seek game, 

 like a good old political party I began to 'want a change' 

 and determined to have it. Recollecting that I had about 

 me a long buckskin thong, with a running noose at one 

 end, which 1 used in pulling dead deer into a tree out of 

 reach of wild animals, a scheme flashed through my mind, 

 Quickly securing one end to the tree, I made a lasso of 

 the other, and after several ineffectual casts succeeded 

 in lodging it over bis horns. Then a row, Asa matter 

 of course the elk followed until the rope drew taut, when 

 down he went, accomplishing a series of evolutions that 

 was truly remarkable. When matters had quited down 

 some, I could scarcely believe my senses to find that elk 

 standing on his head. Yes sir! actually standing on his 

 head, and the worst part of it was that he couid'nt get 

 down again. His branching antlers, you know, formed 

 such a broad base that to recover his equilibrium was 

 utterly impossible. After viewing the curious sight for 

 a while and concluding I would know where to find his 

 elkship when wanted, I departed for camp. Early the 

 next morning we took a sled and went to bring in the 

 game." 



"Did you find the elk still in this upright position?" 

 queried the now suspicious reporter. 



"Yes," responded Taylor, "that is what remained of 

 him, for during the night something had eaten every 

 scrap of flesh from the bones. The bones however were 

 still standing, and for that matter stand there to-day — a 

 monument marking the spot where I shot my first ' elk. 

 If you"— but here an explosion of laughter took place 

 that shook the house, and amid the confusion that ensued 

 the reporter escaped. It is needless to say that aTeport 

 of the interview did not appear in the next morning's 

 papers. 



Mr. Taylor subsequently informed us that he knew 

 beforehand of his questioner's coming and bad loaded 

 himself accordingly. H. M. V. 



Seattle, Wash. 



mm §ng mi %m\. 



The full texts of the game laws of all the States, Terri- 

 tories and British Provinces are given in the Boofi of tlie 

 Game Laws. 



WILD TURKEYS IN THE OVERFLOW — IV. 



[Concluded from Page km.'} 



ON Tuesday, down below camp, L. found a turkey hen 

 among the buzzards, sitting with them in a tree as 

 though among boon companions. We were in the canoe 

 and about to pass this hen at close range without noticing 

 her, so closely did she assimilate with her disgusting as- 

 sociates. L, "let drive," and her henship flew on down 

 the river as though untouched. L, tried to find he had 

 fired the 000 barrel at her head but failed, his No. 5 barrel 

 being empty. We paddled on down and quarreled about 

 the place the turkey was supposed to have stopped. It is 

 easy to pick a quarrel with a fellow just after he has made 

 a bad shot. We had gotten out of the canoe and were 

 standing on a narrow strip of land. 

 "I say she came in here." 

 "I say she didn't. She flew further down." 

 "You are mistaken, young man. Recollect you are a 

 shade addled after such a shot as that — about as bad as 

 my miss at the gobbler, worse with your splatter gun." 



"If I were you, I would certainly sing tow as to that 

 gobbler shot; no one ever did worse than that. It was the 

 most abominable shot — " 



Flop- flop-flop, and away went the hen from a tree 

 almost overhead. 



"Now what do you say — gone down further, eh?" 

 "Yes, further — that's another turkey." 

 And just then the turkey was heard to fall in the water. 

 L. waded out and found her dead. On coming back he 

 had two feelings; one glad that he had killed the turkey 

 after all, the other mad that she was not down further, as 

 he had claimed. 



The next day, on a narrow strip of land two miles below 

 camp, L. found himself in the midst of a flock of turkeys 

 and killed one. On going up to him, I was shown one in 

 a tree at considerable distance away over the overflow, 

 I got in line of as much rubbish as possible and waded 

 stealthily forward . When half way, and, whde watching 

 the tree closely, I noticed a peeuliar looking object in a 

 prominent fork high up. Could that round, fuzzy lump 

 be a knot, or was it a bunch of gray moss which had 

 fallen there? The latter most likely. On reaching better 

 cover, I determined to examine it more carefully. By 

 looking through the sight it proved to be neither a knot 

 nor moss. There was a pair of small, snappy eyes rolled 

 up in a snug clump of hair, and a jet black sharp nose 

 projected from between the eyes and the whole was well 

 pressed down in the crotch. 

 "Ah, ha! Hid, are you old fellow? I'll see you later." 

 The turkey was sitting on a limb over to the right, at 

 this time in a spot quite open, and it was only ay the 

 greatest care that I got within 75yds. of it, I could get 

 no rest without shooting through a mass of vines that I 

 was now in, so I had to step cautiously to one side and 

 take the shot off-hand. That is the correct way to shoot, 

 but then I am not — but I needn't explain after recording- 

 some former shots. Nevertheless, at the report of the 

 rifle the turkey fell into the water with a splash, dead. 



On turning to the fork the animal was still there, and 

 watching me intently, though not making the slightest 

 stir. It was a coon. Ail darkies are fond of coons, and 

 I would try this one for William to take home. It was a 

 thin mark to shoot at, and when I pulled the trigger the 

 animal got out and went hurriedly up the right limb for 

 15ft. He then stopped short and turned around and medi- 

 tated, but not long. He was feeling uncomfortable. He 

 went back to his fork and turned out on the body of the 

 tree, and started down. Here I fired at him again. He 

 moved down about 10ft. further, hung to the bark for a 

 moment, and fell. He could be heard, but not seen, 

 splashing in the water at the root of the tree. Going up, 

 I failed to find him. L. came up, and together we waded 

 about the spot in water up to our knees in search. Pres- 

 ently there was a big splash near us, and for a moment 

 we thought it was occasioned by the coon. No, it was a 

 rabbit, which had leaped from a log and swam vigorously 

 away, 



We shouldered our two turkeys, returned to the canoe 



