124 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



LFeb, 11, 1892, 



The long experience and observations of Com. Griffin 

 entitle his opinions to great weight, but like most other 

 questions this one appears to have two sides, both sup- 

 ported by testimony. 



In Forest and Stream, Jan. 28, is an account of a man 

 being carried off in the jaw of a sperm whale, but with- 

 out stating when it happened. It occurred in 1766 to 

 Tully Clark, son of Scotts Clark, who commanded the 

 whaler off George's Bank. Capt. Clark was of my family, 

 being a cousin of my great grandfather. Scotts Clark 

 had a familv of fourteen children, eleven boys and three 

 girls, and it is related by a descendant that when the 

 youngest child was born, a girl, her father expressed 

 great disappointment because he lacked one boy to make 

 up the crews of two whale boats. 



Many instances are related of the fighting qualities of 

 the sperm whale. A notable one was the case of the 

 whaler Essex, which in the early part of the century was 

 attacked and stove by a bull sperm whale, the crew hav- 

 ing barelv time to take to their boats, in which they suf- 

 fered dreadful hardships before they were picked up. 



To attack such a dangerous monster in an open boat 

 would seem to require courage of the highest quality, 

 and it was in that school that American sailors were 

 trained one hundred years ago, the men who in the war 

 of 1813 humbled the pride of the mistress of the ocean. 



S. C. Clarke. 



Marietta, Ga. 



THE KILLING OF A SNAKE. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



That you may know the experiences of a ransacker are 

 not always of the pleasantest nature, perpend: In ran- 

 sacking a corner of my dominion yesterday I came upon 

 a rattlesnake. This, you may murmur, was not a very 

 extraordinary occurrence. But it was a very thick, bad- 

 looking snake, and I came upon him unexpectedly, sud- 

 denly and while I was pondering; I was much startled. 

 If you have seen these reptiles, you may know that the 

 sudden sight of one at close quarters thrills the observer 

 with something very like an ague, and he is likely to be 

 nervous for some moments after. "If this it is, to fear," 

 then most people I have observed are subject to such dread 

 upon occasion. Well, as I was about to step upon this 

 snake he attracted my attention by squirming forward 

 and away, as fast as he could, after his best style of loco- 

 motion, and by the time I had secured a stick with which 

 to attack him he had got into a pile of loose rock, with 

 the exception of a section of his tail. 



Here I would like to pause to reflect again upon a 

 snake's tail. I have given this subject some thought, and 

 for the life of me, as Mr. Robinson says, I can come to no 

 satisfactory result. Whether a snake is all tail but his 

 head, only half tail, or whether a correct writer ought to 

 refer to a snake's tail at all, is one of the topics that 

 bewilder me. 



For the sake of getting on I will say that the snake was 

 all in the rocks except about a foot of his latter extrem- 

 ity. When, however, I began hostilities by pressing the 

 stick firmly on the part of the snake exposed, his former 

 extremity came out and got to the rear of his latter ex- 

 tremity; you see I will have to revert to head and tail, 

 or I may become confusing. 



[Note.— A man told me yesterday, when we were talk- 

 ing about snakes, that his trade's brother, who lives in 

 Humboldt county, found some snakes that travel both 

 ways over there. These snakes, he said, travel just as 

 fast one way as the other without turning or reversing, 

 and a man can never say for sure which end of them the 

 head is on.] 



You see, it is a little obscure, to say the least, to refer 

 to extremities of snakes by denominating the ends of 

 them as former or latter, and so I shall adopt heads or 

 tails. In case of those Humboldt snakes, if they are dif- 

 ferent, then, of course, they are otherwise; but I am 

 dealing with ordinary every-once-in-a- while rattlesnakes. 



When this snake found himself fast he commenced 

 that rapid vibration of his tail peculiar to his species. 

 He had not sounded his rattles until then, or shown in- 

 clination to fight. Now thebuzzing of his tail was quickly 

 followed by the appearance of his dart-shaped head which 

 shot from one, then another of the creviced of the rocks, 

 his tongue flashing and his eyes standing out like beads. 

 He was writhing to free himself, and I was obliged to 

 press with considerable strength upon the stick to pre- 

 vent his escape. The rattles buzzed at frequent intervals, 

 but I noticed that he always ceased rattling just before 

 striking, also that the action of the muscles which vibrat- 

 ed the rattles was perfect, notwithstanding the fact that 

 the pressure of the stick almost severed them from the 

 main portion of the body. The snake was now furious, 

 and struck repeatedly at the stick which tortured him, 

 and I was not sure, but thought he struck his fangs into 

 his tail. , . T , , 



Anxious to kill him and so end his torture, I had 

 nothing at hand but the stick, which if moved would 

 allow him to get into the rocks. Suddenly, however, he 

 freed himself, and got where he might have escaped, 

 but he evidently was prepared for vengeance. Instead 

 of withdrawing into the rocks he protruded himself in 

 various directions and allowed me to strike at his head a 

 number of times until he received the blow that settled 

 his career forever. With the stick I then drew him from 

 the rocks and found him to be the largest I have en- 

 countered. He would have measured nearly four feet 

 and was near, if not quite, three inches in diameter. Of 

 rattles he had fourteen, but some had been broken or 

 worn away. He was a remarkably active and prettily 

 marked reptile of his kind. 



After securing the rattles as a trophy I fell to wonder- 

 ing why the dozen fatal wounds he had received had not 

 driven all the life from his body; but he still writhed 

 and twisted, and then I remembered that "snakes' tails 

 never die until the sun goes down." 



Then I began to feel a sort of sympathy for the old fel- 

 low from the fact that every man's hand is against him, 

 and fell again to wondering why he was created; then as 

 to whether there is anything in the world that man has 

 the right or reason to condemn to wanton death and de- 

 struction. If our all-wise Creator has fashioned any 

 superfluous thing, deserving our wanton persecution, it 

 must be the rattlesnake; but there are Borne things we 

 don't fully understand to this day. C. L. P. 



A Deer Park of 2,000 acres is now in course of prepara- 

 tion on the New Jersey side of the Delaware Water Gap. 



A Prairie Bird.— Dublin, Erath County, Texas.— 

 Editor Forest and Stream: I inclose the head and neck 

 of a bird which is exceedingly abundant in this country 

 now. I have lived in Texas 35 years, but I never saw this 

 sparrow until this year. If I have seen him before, he 

 had not then the peculiar markings on the head and neck 

 which he now wears. Some call him here the "wheat- 

 bird," but he is not the wheat-bird that I have known 

 before—which has not the black markings that this bird 

 has. Some call him the "prairie bird," but I find him 

 both on the prairie and in the woods. In the woods, how- 

 ever, he is scattered all around; in the prairie he is found 

 in such large flocks that it is easy to kill from 20 to 30 

 at a fire with a shotgun. They are fat and make delicious 

 pies. Please name us this bird in Forest and Stream. 

 Some say here that he is a specimen of the lark, but I 

 think not.— N. A. T. [The bird is a shore lark (Otocoris 

 atyestris). This species in one or other of its races or sub- 

 species is distributed over much of the North American 

 continent, and is especially common as a bird of the 

 Western plains. The specimen sent may belong to the sub- 

 species known to ornithologists as leucolcema, but the 

 fragment sent is too small to enable us to positively 

 determine as to this.] 



Gambel's Quail Wanted.— Several years ago I noticed 

 an advertisement regarding Gambel's quail. I answered 

 it and put myself in the possession of a pair, as I was 

 anxious to have them breed in confinement. This was 

 accomplished, but the results after the eggs were hatched 

 were not successful owing to unfavorable conditions of 

 the place where they were inclosed. I can now make very 

 favorable arrangements and am desirous to get several 

 of these quails for the purpose of breeding. Can you put 

 me in communication with some party who could furnish 

 me with the same species? I know of no better avenue 

 than your valuable and widely read paper to make this 

 want known and reach parties interested in these matters. 

 —Henry F. Aten, M.D. (34 Hanson Place, Brooklyn, 



n. y.). 



"Hornada-s'S Taxidermy."— Grand Forks, N. D., Jan. 

 23,— The first time Forest and Stream made mention of 

 the work after it was printed I ordered a copy at once, 

 and can say that it is the most complete work I ever saw. 

 In my collection of different works on taxidermy, con- 

 taining seven volumes, I think more of that one than all 

 the rest. When I learned the trade it cost me $100, but I 

 have learned more out of that book in four months than 

 the professor taught me for my money. It is simply per- 

 fect: cannot find a fault with it.— Taxis. 



Preserving Specimens — Mr. Haly, Curator of the 

 Colombo Museum, has discovered that carbolized oil is 

 one of the most perfect preservatives of the colors of fish 

 and other animal specimens. The most delicate frogs, 

 snakes, and geckoes retain their evanescent tints when 

 kept in it. Spiders, Crustacea, centipedes, and so on, are 

 also preserved in it, but so far Mr. Haly has not succeeded 

 with marine invertebrates. The oil is cocoanut, which 

 mixes with carbolic acid in all proportions. — Evening 

 Post.— 



A Large Seal Migration.— The bay fishing in Essex 

 county, Mass., has baen so seriously injured by the al- 

 leged depredations of seals that the authorities offered a 

 bounty of one dollar each for killing them. During 1891 

 the fishermen killed 44 on the coast and in the rivers of 

 the county. 



Recent AbbtvAls at the Philadelphia Zoological Gar- 

 dens— Purchased— One cape buffalo (Bufelus caffcr) S, two sing- 

 sing antelopes (Kohus sing-sing) S and ? , one wildcat (Lynxrufus), 

 two gray foxes (Canis virginianiis), two Japanese nheasanis 

 (Phasiamis versicolor) $ and ? , one horned screamer (Palamedea 

 cornuta) i , four pied rnanakins, one bald eagle (HaMaV.tns leucoce- 

 phalus), and one red-tailed buzzard (Butco borealis). Presented— 

 One common macaque (Macacus rynomoluvs),tv?o common marmo- 

 sets (Hopale jacchus), one skunk (Mephitis mephitiea). one raccoon 

 (Procyon lotnr). one barred owl (Syrnium nelmlosum), one screech 

 owl (Scops asio), one red-tailed buzzard (Bubeo borealis), one snap- 

 ping turtle (QhetU&M serpentina), twn diamond-backed terrapins 

 (MdLaclemmw palvstris), one Florida terrapin (Pseudemys rugosa), 

 twentv salamanders, two tree frogs (Hylo versicolor), and five bull- 

 frogs (Ram catcslnana). Born— Seven water snakes. Exchanged 

 —Two cinereus sea eagles (Haliaftus albicilla). 



%umt §zg mid §utf. 



Antelope and Deer of America. By J. D. Caton. 

 Price $2.50. Wing and Glass Ball Shooting loith the 

 Rifle. By W. C. Bliss. Price 50 cents. Rifle, Rod and 

 Griin in California. By T. S. Van Dyke, Price $1.50. 

 Shore Birds. PiHce 15 cents. Woodcraft. By "iVess- 

 muk.' Price $i. Trajectories of Hunting Rifles. Price 

 50 cents Wild Fowl Shooting; see advertisement. 



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

 tories and British Provinces are given in the Booh of the 

 Game Laws. 



GUIDES AND GUIDED. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



As a member of the Bald Knob hunting party I feel 

 compelled to say something in our defense. My usual 

 phlegmatic laziness might prevent any reply to our 

 guide, but for the fact that the editor of Forest and 

 Stream has taken advantage of the occasion to point a 

 sermon with our shortcomings. Having, therefore, 

 stalked the room a few times in an attempt to get up 

 a feeling of mild indignation toward guides and editors 

 generally, I will now proceed with our side of the story. 



Something over a year ago a series of articles were 

 printed descriptive of hunting in Arkansas. Mr. H. 

 Heithaus. of St. Louis, was so unfortunate as to read 

 these, and found all his latent deer and bear killing in- 

 clinations wildly aroused thereby. Deer passed before 

 his waking vision with graceful bound or lay still in 

 death with a big express ball square through the heart; 

 and in his sleep, after a supper of mince pie, great black 

 bears fell squarely on him from the tops of tall water oaks. 

 At last he received a promise from me to accompany him 

 in the fall of '91, while I in turn brought Mr. Weaver 

 into the party. , „ . 



Mr. H. now wrote to the author of these Arkansaw 

 yarns, S. D. Barnes, now of Denver, Col., and secured 



his services as guide. Before the date set for hunt, how- 

 ever, Mr. Barnes made such business arrangements that 

 he could not guide us, so he turned us over to an old 

 hunting companion of his, Harry Esslinger. We agreed 

 to go anywhere (distance no object), provided only game 

 was plentiful. Finally Bald Knob was selected by the 

 guide as our destination. We reached there Nov. 30, 

 confident of being in the best hunting grounds Arkansaw 

 afforded. 



Judging us by Mr. Esslinger"s report, the editor has not 

 unnaturally termed us novices; so a few words descrip- 

 tive of our hunting party may not be amiss. Budd 

 Weaver is a sportsman or nothing. He is one of the best 

 if not the best field shot in St. Louis, and has spent two 

 to four months hunting and shooting every year for 

 nearly twenty years. He is apparently tireless as a 

 walker, with a nerve that nothing ever disturbed until 

 Scbultze powder kicked his favorite gun into the middle 

 of next week. I believe he has killed one or more deer 

 every year for the past dozen years, and the great Ozark 

 region of Missouri is to him like the streets of his native 

 city. Whether shooting to hounds on the far famed 

 Gasconade, following the slow trailer through the Current 

 river valley, or still-hunting in the Irish wilderness, Bud 

 Weaver is equally at home. 



Heithaus is a good wing shot, and the hardest worker I 

 ever saw afield ; indeed I have always held that he spoils 

 sport by turning it into downright hard work. He does 

 not pretend to any knowledge of still-hunting but is per- 

 fectly willing to follow the instructions of any one more 

 experienced. He styles himself a meat hunter, and went 

 to Arkansas with the dogged determination of killing a 

 deer. 



The writer has killed a few deer, and is not particu- 

 larly fond of the sport. The first driven deer he ever 

 killed the thought occurred to him as he raised his gun, 

 "it is as easy to hit as a big calf;" and it was. He pretends 

 only to considerable skill with the hunting rifle, a skill 

 sufficient to cut down a flying quail with a single ball, as 

 was demonstrated on this trip. 



The afternoon of our arrival in Bald Knob' found us 

 located in a little cabin eight miles east of that village, 

 and near the swamps of White River. We expected to 

 find a few bear, plenty of deer, and turkeys by the hun- 

 dred. 



The first evening Weaver and I hunted; result, nothing, 

 not even a sight of game. The next day all hunted, 

 every one hopeful ana each secretly certain of being 

 able to report a kill at nightfall. It was decided that 

 Heithaus should accompanythe guide as we wished him 

 to have every opportunity. We hunted, not as the editor 

 intimated, cracking and crashing, walking and talking, 

 but slowly and carefully, looking for sign, looking for a 

 movement or a patch of color. The squirrels chattered 

 about us undisturbed as we moved at a gait of little 

 over a mile an hour. 



The writer was first in camp and had seen nothing 

 but signs of a couple of deer, not fresh. Weaver came 

 in Bhortly afterwards with a iike report. Heithaus and 

 guide came later. They had walked much further and 

 faster. Heithaus had seen and shot at one deer run- 

 ning; he said at 100yds., guide said 60yds. Our guide 

 had seen more deer. 



The following day we prospected for game, covering 

 more ground, looking for sign and running game. Weaver 

 saw a fawn; later he and I caught glimpses of two deer 

 running at 200yds., and fired with no expectation of 

 hitting. "We covered a good deal of ground this day, 

 saw few signs of deer and none of turkey except one 

 wing-broken bird, which was killed. The next day was 

 densely clouded and raining hard all day. Weaver and 

 the writer visited a new location six miles off and deeper 

 in the swamp, seeing little to encourage us; plenty of 

 hunters and dogs; a few deer tracks, no turkey. Pros- 

 pects did not seem bright. A local hunter in whom we 

 had confidence said, "Some deer here, but very few and 

 wild." 



Weaver and I put in the next few days prospecting, 

 sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback. Heithaus 

 and the guide hunted as best they could. Heithaus saw 

 a few deer, the guide claimed to have seen many more. 

 They got close enough to one deer to have killed, but 

 neither Heithaus nor the guide could hit it, though one 

 tried four and the other five times. 



By this time we had made up our minds to a few things. 

 The guide ought to have known before we came, first, 

 that there were very few deer within hunting distance of 

 our camp, and no turkeys at all, and no more sign of bear 

 than of elephants. 



Let me describe our hunting grounds by way of justi- 

 fying this opinion. As before stated we were eight miles 

 east of Bald Knob, and two miles east of our shanty the 

 swamplands proper began. Two or three miles west and 

 south of us ran Mingo Creek, while six miles north of us 

 was the Memphis & Bald Knob Railroad. In the scope 

 of country lying between the Mingo on the west and 

 south, the swamps on the east and railroad to the north 

 we were instructed to hunt. This embraced a territory 

 of perhaps thirty square miles. In it was one large plan- 

 tation and a good many cabins. It was cut up with 

 numbers of old roads, as it had once been the scene of 

 active woodchopping operations, which industry is still 

 carried on to some extent. The whole country I have de- 

 scribed is full of hogs, and the main industry of the 

 native Arkansan is hog hunting with gun, dog and pony. 



By occasional glimpses of deer, and by thoroughly ex- 

 ploring our territory and carefully noting tracks we be- 

 came convinced that our grounds were occupied by at 

 least four deer, perhaps six. A big buck, a smaller one, 

 a doe and a fawn, we became quite well acquainted with 

 all things considered. As an excuse for not knowing 

 them better, it may be explained — don't smile — tbatthose 

 deer were unnaturally shy of strangers, a,nd they had 

 good reason to be of stranger or native either. The aver- 

 age was one party a day in those woods with horses and 

 hounds during our stay, and in addition the hog hunters 

 were continually in the woods ready to give chase should 

 their dogs jump a deer. Only the extreme wariness of 

 the game, the near proximity of heavy cane, where dogs 

 could not follow: the fact of the deer having no certain 

 passes, and the very indifferent shooting of the natives 

 saved our deer from becoming extinct in a single week. 



Remember those six deer occupied some thirty square 

 miles of range and were liable to be in any part of it per- 

 haps in bunches of two or three. Hunting in good still- 

 hunting 6tyle, covering but a few miles a day, the chances 

 were as ten to one that you would never see a deer, On 



