268 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[APEIL 33, 1891. 



ground was covered -with them. Ruffed gi'ouse? They 

 weighted the branches of the trees to the ground. Deer 

 were plentiful and to be had for the asking; and fish- 

 knowing that here I had a foundation of real fish to build 

 upon I straightway put more fish in the northern penin- 

 sula of Michigan than there is water there to hold them. 



"In the course of our talks about the trip he told me 

 about his gun; and I will say right here that if some evil 

 influence had not possessed some old uncle or grand- 

 father of Devoy's to leave him that old Westley Richards, 

 with its combination rim-fire hammers, you might have 

 known him all your life and never have suspected he was 

 eloquent; you might have passed him every day and ad- 

 mii'ed his fine face and faultless attire withoiit knowing 

 that the real attractiveness and fascination of the man 

 lay in his graphic descriptions. 



"I confess to a somewhat hyperbolic reference to the 

 game preserves of Michigan, and trust my sin will be re- 

 membered against "Warner; but when Devoy turned loose 

 that old sway-back, mule-eared, scatter-bored shotgun at 

 me, he made me feel as if I hadn't told enough, end that 

 I owed it to myself to inform him that buffaloes were fre- 

 quently seen near Kalamazoo. He lied for himself up to 

 eighty yards, and from there up to a hundred and fifty 

 put it onto his poor old uncle. And it was pathetic to 

 notice that even when . it was beyond the eighty yards 

 boundary he would tell you what kind of a dog it was. 



' 'In my peregrinations up and down this vale of tears I 

 have heard many explanations of why a man missed a 

 bird, but I never heard such truly plausible ones as he 

 gave in his preparatory practice at glass balls. And if, 

 at any time, he fell short, Warner loomed up with arundel- 

 tinted spectacles to shooc through to overcome the sun- 

 light, or changed liis position at the score into that of a 

 man in the act of making a sneak on to a grizzly bear. 



"Every morning he would loom up with a portentous 

 air and the gratifying anouncement that he had loaded a 

 hundred and fifty shells last night with sixes, or that he 

 had sent on for a pair of Vermont moccasins to wear 

 around camp in the evenings. He also bought one of 

 those little battle axes with the Hamburg edging. I re- 

 member that Warner let him in on the ground floor for a 

 gunshy puppy, and he immediately put him in the hands 

 of a trainer. I always thought that was going a little too 

 far, although Warner said the dog was all right until the 

 $25 trainer took him in hand. When, however, Devoy 

 came into the office one morning and told us that fie had 

 been sleeping on the floor lately to get himself hardened, 

 and intimated that he was having some trouble in his 

 household, we abandoned all our scruples and advised him 

 to get a suit of corduroy of the color of the inside of a 

 rabbit's ear, and one proud and happy day he wore it 

 down to the office. 



"We were unable to go with him after all. Warner, 

 with an old trapper, a bag of provisions and a rifle, dis- 

 appeared in the forests of Elk county, while I took my 

 old Parker and went out on the Platte. He found a 

 couple of kindred spirits, however, and brought back 

 glowing accounts of their trip, and I do hope they were 

 justified, although, as I said a moment ago, I lay the 

 blame of whatever he was led to do upon Warner." 



As usual, I find it advisable to follow up Mrs. Kennedy's 

 remarks with something in extenuation and explanation 

 of the imperfect manner in which she reproduces my 

 utterances. Of course we all know how hard it is to do 

 justice to truthful and modest souls when we undertake 

 to quote them. I have been made to admit that I had a 

 certain share in what was done to poor Mr. Devoy. Per- 

 haps in the abandon of a rambling fireside reminiscence 

 I may have intimated as much; but I hereby disclaim any 

 and all part in the afiair other than what I was compelled 

 to perform by Warner, who was my superior officer and 

 very fierce when crossed. 



Seriously, though, our hero, while he is a real personage 

 whom I have not slandered in the least, is typical of yom' 

 half-caste sportsman. Trifling over his uniform like a 

 conceited guardsoaan; lying about his prowess; whose 

 gun is the best in the world, and whose dog is without 

 spot or blemish; who never misses but by reason of some 

 extraneous circumstance which you have to listen to with 

 a straight face: who, when you come to sift him down, 

 is never so nearly a person of any note whatever as when, 

 rising out of his obscurity and insipidity, he goes a hunt- 

 ing and assumes the airs and graces of a person of cun- 

 ning and skill, engaged in an employment the most 

 momentous of a man's earthly existence, instead of a 

 plain, unassuming man, descended, for the moment, from 

 the really important and manly function of his kind, 

 work — plain, hard, dignifying, elevating work — to the 

 simple operation of children of a larger groAvth, play — 

 none the less necessary to his well being, perhaps, but 

 still only play. How ridiculous, how more than childish, 

 would it appear to us were children to sit around devot- 

 ing their time and energies to lying about their bats and 

 balls and trying to outdo each other in the perfection of 

 their oiitfits, rather than trying to outstrip each other 

 simply in the enjoyment to be derived from their use. 

 Should we not conclude that they were only enjoying 

 themselves because they were having to do with great 

 things, commonly resorted to by their elders and supe- 

 riors? 



I am going on a train with a dog and am accosted by 

 one of these people with the overpowering announcement 

 that he too is a hunter. Now, if he only hunted for play 

 I might enjoy his enthusiasm and his experience; but I 

 soon find that it is the greatest agony he can put on and 

 that his gun has all the old time-worn supernal qualities, 

 and his dog does all the acts — backing off his point and 

 coming to notify him, uniformly retrieving birds by their 

 toes and the tips of then* wings, and so on to the end of 

 the string; and I say to myself, "You are a curious mix- 

 ture of a boy and a man, combining whatever qualities 

 of either go to take away your dignity, and you make a 

 laughing stock of those who love the sports of the field 

 and river." 



And in this connection I want to just say in passing 

 that last week while snipe shooting my pointer broke off 

 in chase of a rabbit, and when I brought him back to be 

 punished he would not let me lay my hands on him, but 

 kept moving in front of me in a 'circle. Finally I strode 

 to the middle of the ring, grabbed my gun, pushed up 

 the safety and leveled it at him and exclaimed: "Now 

 you stop or I'll blow your brains out!" And, sir, he just 

 stood up and held up his forepaws as plain as anybody 

 was e^er "held up" in his life, and waddled up to me and 

 lay down. 



BIRD NOTES FROM MISSOURI. 



THE past winter with us here along the great Missis- 

 sippi has been a season of peculiarly high tempera- 

 ture, and is the third one of consecutive mild winters. 

 The mercury has remained above zero most of the time, 

 and another uncommon feature of the season is the ab- 

 sence of snow and rain. For three years we have had 

 very dry weather, and all the rivers, lakes and ponds have 

 remained low. Some inland lakes have gone entirely dry, 

 and thus the feeding grounds of thousands of ducks have 

 disappeared. And this leads us on to the question that is 

 being asked in many parts of our land: What has become 

 of the wild ducks? All along this splendid valley of the 

 Mississippi there were, but a few years since, thousands of 

 all kinds of ducks, but now they are seen only in reduced 

 flocks. Lately I have observed gangs of a dozen or more 

 mallards flying along the Des Moines, and I recently saw 

 eight canvasbacks sailing up the Mississippi. Wild geese 

 reappeared in February. One flock which remained on 

 the'^ wheat fields here must have had three or four hun- 

 dred fowls in it. 



Some time ago Forest and Stream asked if quail ever 

 collected in great flocks. My observation and study of 

 bird and animal life justifies the statement that almost 

 all species of birds times unite their companies into 

 one grand brigade. This may be due to certain laws of 

 migration, or owing to peculiar seasons. In early Decem- 

 ber I saw a vast flock of grouse which must have num- 

 bered two thousand birds. This truth is followed by 

 another one no less apparent that there are but very few 

 flocks of small numbers. Quail in this region used to 

 form themselves into immense aggregations. I have ob- 

 served several flocks in one, and have counted as many 

 as fifty-five birds in one body. 



While visiting in several counties in this State this win- 

 ter, I found that in some localities there were scarcely 

 any rabbits, while in other places more favorable for their 

 existence and protection these animals were flourishing 

 in plentiful numbers. 



The winter has been rather kind to all bird life in this 

 latitude, 40' north. Some kinds that are migi-atory have 

 remained here all winter. I have seen many red-headed 

 woodpeckers, robins and bluebirds. Some February days 

 were of summer warmth, and a few birds that forsake 

 this region for a warmer clime, made the mistake of 

 undertaking the return journey too soon. On the 26th of 

 that month I saw the first meadow lark of the year. 

 There was a freezing cold storm from the west, and the 

 poor lark was seeking shelter on the warm side of an em- 

 bankment. How I pitied it. The lark is the very earliest 

 migratory bird we have to return from its southern home. 

 Other birds are influenced by these severe changes of the 

 weather, and many of them perish of cold. This is par- 

 ticularly true of the swallows which are deceived by the 

 early warm days of spring, followed by cold storms. 

 Upon several occasions I have found many swallows 

 and other small migratory birds which had perished from 

 storms and cold. 



Aside of the climate we now now have an additional 

 enemy of our native birds in the English sparrow. They 

 should be killed without mercy. I have raised the black 

 flag in deahng with them, and I have enlisted for the 

 war in exterminating this pest. Jasper Blines. 



Alesandeh, Mo. 



SOUNDS OF WOODCOCK AND SNIPE. 



HALIFAX, N. S.— Editor Forest and Stream: In your 

 issue of March 5 a writer quotes as follows: Re- 

 membering that the bleating of the snipe is only heard 

 when the bird is rushing downward, with quivering 

 wings and spread tail, I think the evidence pretty good 

 that the sound is not vocal, and extracts are given, from 

 Darwin, to explain why the feathers make the noise. 



Now, with all due respect, quotations and extracts and 

 theories are all very well in their way, but actual, per- 

 sonal observations are, I think, much better, and with 

 your kind permission I wish to make a few remarks that 

 I trust will be taken by your readers in a kindly manner, 

 as they are intended by me. 



Before me is a bound book, printed in London, in the 

 old English style, called the "Universal Sportsman," in 

 1799, and turning to page 540 1 take the following: Wood- 

 cock: "It is common to see them in pairs at the morning 

 and evening flights and to hear them, when flying, make 

 a small piping noise, although at other times they are 

 quite mute." 



Here, you will note, is authority that 93 years ago it 

 was conceded that the woodcock did make a piping noise 

 and, without doubt, it is meant for a vocal sound. 



Now, regarding snipe, with quivering wings, spread 

 tail, etc., I claim the booming is made at dusk, and long 

 after dark, when the birds are flying around in circles 

 overhead (just as the chimney swallows act in the day- 

 time), and that it is impossible for one to see the snipe 

 with the naked eye, let alone to be able to describe "the 

 quiver of the wings and the spread of its tail," and that 

 you may judge I will mention a few scores from my 

 journal ao you may see how fairly plently the birds were 

 and what chances I had of taking notes: 



Aug. 8 and 9, "84— Major Walker and self, at Saint Ju- 

 lian's marsh, killed 33 snipe, (5 cock, 1 rail; Aug. 29 and 

 30—15 snipe, 4 rail, 5 bittern, 27 yellowleg; Sept. 20 and 

 21 — Capt. Lousada and self, at Saint Julian's, killed 73 

 snipe, 8 rail, 1 bittern, 1 teal, 1 cock; Sept. 27, 28 and 29— 

 62 snipe, 9 yellowleg, 2 rail, 5 bittern, 1 cock. 



Now, in the evenings, when the shooting was over, guns 

 cleaned, and things fixed up for the morning, I would go 

 down to the marsh, sit myself down, light my pipe, and 

 lay me back and pass the time in listening to the snipe, 

 flying round and round overhead, going ivho — 1, 2—ioho 

 — 1, 2 — ivho — 1, 2 — who — I, 2, and they would keep up this 

 booming, I call it, continuously (count 1, 2 between the 

 sounds, which gives pause made by bii'ds between them), 

 and although the birds would sometimes seem to be close 

 above my head, yet I can honestly say that I never saw 

 one of them, and any one who has laid out on the marshes 

 after dark to shoot the dusky duck when they are coming 

 down from the fresh-water lakes to feed will back mo up 

 that it takes a keen eye to see them, and quick eye and hand 

 combined to get on and bring them down, and if big ob- 

 jects like these are so hard to detect, I fail to see how 

 such a small one as the snipe can jt^e placed and the spread 



of wings and tail noted. Here, too, you will hear the 

 squeak of the great blue heron as he slowly wends his 

 way to some favorite fishing stand, and if he should come 

 within range, well overhead between you and the dark 

 sky, a charge of No. 4 shot intended for a dusky duck 

 will double him up, and down he will come with a dull 

 thud to the marsh below. 



Many and many an evening have I spent up to my 

 knees in water, crouching down among the reeds and 

 flags, waiting for the duck, and bearing the snipe, 

 circling about, with their slow monotonous ivJio. who, 

 tvhc^vho; and any one who has listened and heard this 

 sound would never for an instant confound the noise 

 with the movement of their wings, as it goes far too 

 slowly. The wings could not make this peculiar vocal 

 note, and the bird would have to flap or move them with 

 more rapidity or else he could not keep himself up in the 

 air, and if moved rapidly the sound produced would be a 

 whirl or rushing noise, and not by any means of the same 

 description as the vocal who, ivho. If some of us agree 

 that the snipe is able and does produce or make one vocal 

 sound, which is skeep, and which we are able to note, as 

 it is done in daylight and under our eye, why insist that 

 the other notes he may utter, must be caused by the 

 wings. Surely, if the bird makes one vocal sound he is 

 quite capable of making others. I have seen them in the 

 daytime in whisps, flying about and going siceep, sheep, 

 and marked them pitch right down in front of me, in the 

 flags and rushes, but I have yet to hear them bleat or 

 boom when descending in the daytime. On the conti-ary, 

 all the sounds that I have ever heard in daytime has been 

 their vocal sAree^?, except that on Aug. 11, 1885, when 

 shooting on the marsh — our shooting began then Aug. 1 

 —I heard about and around me v/jZio, loho, who, only not 

 in veiT loud notes, and for quite a while was puzzled 

 until I found running about at my feet three tiny young 

 snipe, which must have been a very late or possilaly 

 second brood. 



Something new in bird life and natm-e is cropping up 

 every day. A short time ago one of your esteemed cor- 

 respondents was astonished to find that the woodcock 

 could and did actually "cock his tail up over his back and 

 strut." Another was delighted to find that this wonder- 

 ful bird had a "song equal to the lark," and yet another 

 testifies that he saw the bird flying about in the daytime 

 uttering vocal notes like ereeke, creeJce, and all these 

 gentlemen were quite right, 



I sincerely trust they and others will continue their 

 interesting notes taken in the fields from nature, and not 

 from books and theories. H, Adsten. 



HABITS OF THE RACCOON. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



In Zas, G, Latbrop's article in Forest and Stream, 

 entitled "Coons Catch Rabbits," he says he would like to 

 know if others have noticed "anything like this." Some 

 time ago I was talking with a man who used to make a 

 good living by trapping fur- bearing animals and shooting 

 ruffed grouse for the market. 



In speaking of the habits of the coon he asked me 

 whether I knew that they sometimes caught rabbits in 

 the snow. I told him if they did it was isomething new 

 to me. He said he came by the knowledge in this way: 

 One winter about five years ago he was up in Mt. Dis- 

 covery (a mountain north of Boquette River, below Eliz- 

 abethtowTi, New York) looking for coons that might have 

 come out during the warm days. He followed one coon 

 track, which left the rocks of the mountain side and 

 joined a rabbit runway, which led into a swamp. At a 

 jjlace in the swamp beside the runway were the remains 

 of a rabbit that had been kiUed and eaten by the coon. I 

 asked him whether he thought the coon had run by scent 

 or sight. He said it was his opinion that the coon had 

 followed the runway into the swamp and waited for a 

 rabbit to pass by. The rabbit, probably being overcome 

 with fear, fell an easy victim to the coon, just as we have 

 seen rabbits terror-stricken vvlien suddenly confronted by 

 a dog. He set a trap here at the remains of the rabbit 

 and caught a coon soon after. 



This coon had not carried his prey off" to water for the' 

 purpose of washing it before eating, as there was no open 

 water anywhere near. 



What tactics the coon employed in taking his prey re- 

 mains for some one else to tell us, C. M, DttBois, 



Essex, N. Y. 



Editor Forest and Strem7i: 



In Forest a^'d Stream of March 26 Mr. Burnham ex- 

 presses the opinion that coons do not eat during the 

 winter. Having had a little experience with coons I 

 want to tell what I know about them. 



W^hile hunting rabbits this winter I tracked a coon to 

 a hollow tree, and as it was but a short distance from 

 home I caught him alive and took him home. I put him 

 in a box with a hole in the side and chained him to the 

 box. He could move about 6ft. on either side of the box, 

 and would come out every night except on very cold 

 nights. He never stirred from the box in the day time, 

 except two or three times on rainy days. Food was 

 placed in the box and would be eaten every night except 

 on very cold nights, I do not think a coon becomes 

 reaUy torpid when lying up in cold weather, for no mat- 

 ter how cold the weather is when you find a coon in a 

 tree he is always sufficiently alive to put up a good hard 

 fight. When this coon of mine was lying apparently 

 asleep it was only necessary to touch him to cause him 

 to spring up business end to the front, ready for a fight. 



In regard to their catching rabbits I am sure it is not 

 common for them to do so, I have hunted rabbits since 

 I was a foot high in a locality where coons are plenty 

 and have never seen or heard of coons disturbing them. 

 As GOons will eat meat of any kind I have no doitbt they 

 would kill rabbits if they "got the di'op" on them. They 

 couldn't catch them otherwise. A pet coon will clean 

 out a poultry yard quicker than a mink. McC. 



Eagle Rock, Pa. 



Early Birds,— A son of Mr. E. S, Balcome, of this 

 town, found on his father's farm last Friday — April 10 — 

 a ground bird's nest with four little chicks in it. Every- 

 body can have the first robin— they are so common that 

 we never care to lay claim to them— but a whole nest full 

 of young birds on the lOth of April certainly entitles the 

 mother of that family to "the worm," — Canton {N^, Y,) 

 Vomvwcial Advertiser, April 15, 



