April 7, 1898.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



819 



with corks and lines and two "bobs." The last named 

 implement of sport, if it can be called such, I was familiar 

 with, having seen them used in my native State. It con- 

 sists of a stout rod or pole, some 15ft. in length, with a 

 short stout line, not more than 4.f t. long, to the end of 

 which are attached three large hooks wrapped or soldered 

 together. An inch or so above the hooks a portion of a 

 deer's tail is securely wrapped on the line ; sometimes a 

 bit of red flannel is added to make it more attractive to 

 the fish. This is what is known as the "deer tail bob,'' 

 j but the "bone whirler" has in a great measure superseded 

 this ancient device, and from my own experience with 

 both, I think it is more effective in this kind of fishing. 

 With this rig and no bait we set out up the river. When 

 near the fishing grounds the fisherman ran his boat among 

 the bonnet lilies, which grow and flourish in the shallow 

 waters near the shores, for the purpose of securing bait. 

 In the stems of this plant we found a cream white worm 

 known to the fishermen as the "bonnet worm." They are 

 about Sin. long and with but little trouble we secured all 

 we wanted. They were for use on the ordinary tackle in 

 still-water fishing with hook and line. 



Proceeding yet further up the river we came to a point 

 where it widened out into a bay or lake, and running the 

 boat near the shore we began to fish with the bonnet 

 worms. I noticed that the fisherman sat with his face 

 up stream and kept a sharp lookout ahead. I felt a 

 curiosity to know the reason for this. Our still-water 

 fishing was rewarded with a good bass now and then, 

 when presently my companion bade me abruptly: "Take 

 in your line and get out the bob, for a school of bass are 

 coming and now the fun will begin." I looked in the 

 direction indicated and saw that the water was very 

 much disturbed by the bass as they made their way 

 down the river. As soon as the head of the school came 

 abreast of us my guide, with a dexterous stroke of the 

 oars, put the boat amid the fish and, really, the fun did 

 begin and lasted as long as we could keep within reach 

 of the school, 



It was, of course, only a short time when the rapidly- 

 moving fish had passed, but during this time we secured 

 seven or eight apiece. The fisherman followed the school 

 as fast as he could row and I was enabled to hook several 

 more before the school got entirely beyond reach, The 

 bob is moved quickly on or near the surface of the water 

 and when a fish is hooked it allows of no play worth the 

 name; it is simply hauled hand over hand toward the 

 boat. This is the chief objection to this kind of fishing. 



When this school had passed we again resumed our 

 still-water fishing and waited and watched for another. 

 Our patience was not taxed long, when we again enjoyed 

 the same sport. This operation was repeated several 

 times aud we soon had a fine lot of bass ranging from 

 two to five pounds. They were so easily caught and so 

 plentiful that I thought sadly that the time would soon 

 come when the decimation of their numbers would be so 

 great that it be difficult to get a single rise to the bob. 

 The thought was in a great measure prophetic. 



Jaydefbee, 



THE OUSEL IN OREGON. 



IT may perhaps be interesting to some of your many 

 readers who have never seen or perhaps heard of the 

 ousel, to know something of the appearance and habits 

 of this curious little bird, which is found I think from the 

 Rocky Mountains to the Pacific coast. I think I am safe 

 in believing that some, at least, of your readers east of 

 the Eockies have never heard of the bird, because I find 

 that even here, in its home, there are those who have 

 neither seen it nor heard of it. I have read of it and 

 know something of its habits, my attention first having 

 been called to it, I think, in some article by Prof. John 

 Muir, of California , some years ago, but I have never had 

 an opportunity of seeing and watching the bird, as I have 

 long wished to do, until recently. I don't pretend to any 

 very intimate acquaintance with it yet, but know con- 

 siderably more about it than I did a few days since. I 

 was walking up the gulch or caiion, down which flows 

 beautiful Ashland Creek, which furnishes the town with 

 pure snow water from the lofty siskiyous far up in the 

 range, and also supplies power for mills and electric light 

 plant, admiring the flashing, tumbling stream and preci- 

 pitous sides of the canon which there harrowed down and 

 turned abruptly to the right until there was little more 

 than room for the creek and road, when a little bird flew 

 out from the rocky edge of the stream and whisked 

 around the bend out of sight. "Aha!" said I to myself, 

 for I was alone, as I like to be on such occasions, "I don't 

 know anything about the color of an ousel, but I believe 

 you're the identical chap I've long wanted to see," so I 

 cautiously uncovered the bend, and there in the middle 

 of the creek, a typical mountain stream strewn with 

 boulders, on a stone round which the water was boiling, 

 was perched, bobbing up and down in funny little jerks, 

 a bird shaped like a wren but three or four times the size, 

 solid slaty-blue in color, long-legged for a bird of its 

 size, bill quite long and very fine, tail short and 

 cocked somewhat like a wren's but not so saucily. 

 It wasn't quiet a minute, but moved around continually 

 in a queer combination of hop and step, and every time 

 it hop -stepped it worked the spring in its dainty little 

 legs, the jerkiest little curtsey you ever saw. I meas- 

 ured it with my eye, for lack of closer acquaintance, and 

 should say it was 4in. from bill to tail, and stood, from 

 head to ground, 2-J- or Sin. when erect. It had some moss 

 in its bill, and was evidently curious about me; but after 

 satisfying itself that there was no harm imminent, it 

 flew up stream a few yards and disappeared beneath a 

 large overhanging rock, on each side of which the water 

 poured and spray flew. Presently it reappeared, and 

 with it came its mate; and as they did not go far for 

 their supply for nest building, there being plenty of satis- 

 factory moss on the sides of the rock wall, I sat down 

 and had as enjoyable a half hour's entertainment as I 

 have had in many a day. If the ousel does not belong to 

 the wren family, it ought. Its flight is like that of the 

 wren, shape ditto, carriage of tail similar, and I should 

 say its nervous temperament is similar, apparently, 

 though on this point it was not possible to interview it. 

 Frequently one of the birds flew up against the face of 

 the rock, picked oft' a billful of moss, flew down on to a 

 Sterne in the stream and repeatedly dipped the muss into 



the water, probably to clean it; and sometimes, after 

 having washed it thoroughly, apparently having arrived 

 at the conclusion that it wasn't just the thing, it dropped 

 it into the current deliberately and went for something 

 more appropriate. Part of the material was taken from 

 beneath the water. They occupied most of the time, 

 while I watched them, in nest building, but occasionally 

 felt the pangs of hunger and plumped into the water and. 

 poked around on the bottom or searched for food around 

 the edges of the rocks among the moss just beneath the 

 surface, standing on the almost perpendicular stone leg- 

 deep in the water and head out of sight much of the 

 time. As I saw them disappear repeatedly beneath that 

 big rock, I wondered how such mites of birds could raise 

 animal heat enough to hatch their young in a place 

 dark, damp and cold as that must be continually, for 

 the snows which fed that stream are not far distant, 

 and how the wee younglings could survive babyhood 

 was more of a mystery. These birds must be as cold- 

 blooded as a fish. On a later occasion I watched another 

 pair feeding quite a long time, and a more enjoyable 

 season, for both of us apparently, would be hard to dis- 

 cover. They are quite fearless of man, for where I saw 

 them the road ran within ten feet of the creek, and I was 

 in full view, though moving slowly and cautiously fol- 

 lowing in the rear of them as they prospected along, not 

 more than thirty to fifty feet. They fed for the most 

 part in midstream, where the water was not more than 

 leg or half-body deep to them, and nowhere was the 

 water sluggish, occasionally feeding beneath the over- 

 hanging bushes. Sometimes they floated quite a distance 

 in the swift current, suddenly disappearing, if the water 

 happened to be deep enough," or they would take wing a 

 little distance, alighting as like as not in a swift, quite 

 turbulent rapid, in which they would dive, coming up 

 after a few seconds almost invariably where they went 

 down, after I had begun to think they had got fouled 

 and drowned. How they could dive in such water and 

 not be carried down stream was puzzling to me. When 

 wading in water not more than body deep their heads 

 were underneath more than half the time. They must 

 have large lung capacity. Sometimes they would stand 

 on a rock, over which the water poured swiftly in a thin 

 sheet, dipping their heads beneath the surface searching 

 for food, while the water poured over their backs in a 

 pretty little cascade, or stand on the very brink of quite 

 a fall, in water leg deep, with head and body almost sub- 

 merged, while I momentarily expected to see their tiny 

 legs knocked from under them and they go tumbling into 

 the pool below : but it never happened. They had it "down 

 fine." I did not see them swim up stream, though I 

 should not have been much surprised if they had. They 

 did pretty much everything else I could think of. The 

 way they worked down stream in shallow water, zigzag- 

 ging along, poking their bills into every nook jerkily 

 and untiringly, or diving here and there, was very pretty, 

 One of the strangest things about the perf ormance was the 

 fact that they never shook themselves when they emerged 

 from the water, at intervals of cessation from feeding as 

 they sat for a moment on a stone or stick. They are 

 a point ahead of fish even in this respect, for the latter 

 always shake themselves when they come from the water. 

 I was quite near the birds at times, and not a particle of 

 moisture could I see on them. Once as I sat on a rock 

 near the brook-side one of the little water Bprites alighted 

 within 10ft. of me with its bill full of moss. It knew 

 there was something there out of place, and began to 

 move about nervously and jerky, and every time its legs 

 gave way its eyes showed white. The movement was so 

 rapid, combined with the jerking, that I could not deter- 

 mine whether it was a film closing over the eye, or 

 whether it was jeering me by rolling up the "whites of 

 its eyes," if it had any, but it was quite uncanny in a 

 small way. They did not seem to make much business 

 of curtseying, except when unusual surroundings made 

 them a trifle suspicious. The only note I heard them 

 utter was on one occasion, when one took wing for some 

 point quite a distance up stream, the mate following with 

 a mingling of a peep and squeal, rapidly repeated, a note 

 as fine as a cambric needle, seemingly saying, "Wait for 

 me, wait for me, wait for me," These birds are found 

 all the way to Alaska, the former customs collector of 

 Sitka, who resides here, telling me he has seen them there 

 feeding in the streams just at their junction with salt 

 water. I suppose I might go up the gulch and shoot the 

 little darlings and have them taxidermed and put in a 

 glass case, as bird killers, alias ornithologists, take great 

 pride in doing, but if I spare them other people can see 

 their beautiful actions, the birds will reproduce and so 

 prolong our pleasure, whereas if I slay them, I do what I 

 can, as ornithologists are doing constantly, to hasten the 

 day when there shall be no ousels. O. O, S. 



Ashlajstd, Oregon. 



GLIMPSES OF BIRD CHARACTER. 



A BOLD bad bird is the great shrike, of most reprehen- 

 sible habits, feeding on the flesh of his fellow birds. 

 Dragon flies and other large insects are his proper prey 

 during the summer season at least,and should be sufficient 

 for the appetite of any bird, without adopting the unbecom- 

 ing habit of devouring his innocent and estimable bird 

 neighbors. Another lawful article of diet is frogs and 

 mice, which he does not despise when he happens on 

 them, but duly impales on a thorn or sharp stick, to await 

 bis convenience. But it must in fairness be said that 

 the shrike, being a native of cold climates, would in the 

 snow bound winter keep his larder but ill supplied if he 

 confined his prey to mice and such small creatures as he 

 might happen on at this season, and which require a 

 special training in mousing to catch. 



The shrike attacks his victims in a most ferocious 

 manner; destroying them by crushing the skull with its 

 strong beak, while holding them with its feet, which 

 though slender, like those of small birds in general, have 

 sharp claws. The shrike is credited with the gift of im- 

 itating other birds' notes, as a means of decoying them 

 within its reach. Its natural note, which i8 not musical, 

 is the same throughout the year; which is not strange, 

 for who would expect sentiment from such a bird. 



The great shrike has considerable skill as a nest builder. 

 His large, compact nest is made of grass and moss woven 

 together and well lined with feathers to keep out the 

 cold. It is generally placed in the fork of a small tree. 

 The eggs aTe six in number, of a pale cinereous color, 

 thickly marked at the largest end with rufous marks and 

 streaks, I knew a .pair of these birds to build and rear 



their young for years in a small pine wood, which looked 

 when one was in it like a part of the primeval forest. 



The young birds, bright-eyed, bold and self-reliant, 

 might be seen most of the time after they bad left the 

 nest, sitting on fence posts and such points of vantage in 

 the surrounding neighborhood, watching for the return 

 of the old birds with their booty, or themselves making 

 bold endeavor to kill and slay. 



The thrushes seem to be less capable than most song- 

 birds of taking care of themselves, perhaps because they 

 are not practical minded birds; their thoughts seem ever 

 in dreamland. 



Guileless birds they are, seemingly, who judging other 

 creatures by themselves, cannot conceive a fellow-being 

 so wicked as to injure those who had done them no harm 

 whatever; for I find them often in the fields and gardens, 

 winged by careless sportsmen. The hawks they greatly 

 fear, and I do not very often find their remains among 

 those of other birds left at a hawk's dining place. 



Not practical minded birds as I said before— like most 

 imaginative folk, not gifted with a clear comprehension 

 of the everyday things of life. I canoe into possession of 

 a specimen of the olive-backed thrush by his being found 

 in the woods one rainy autumn day, so wet — soaked he 

 was— as to be unable to use his wings. He bad taken 

 that day of all others to go bathing seemingly, and the 

 weather being so cool and wet he had been unable to dry 

 his plumage. A very unwise bird, and one not fit to be 

 trusted with the management of himself. 



I found another thrush of this species (Turclus oliva- 

 ceu?) in the woods one day in a curious state of deform- 

 ity. The one side of the bird from the head down was 

 plump and well proportioned, but the other side was 

 shriveled to literally skin and bone, so that the bird 

 could make but the lamest use of its limbs. I supposed 

 the bird had been crushed by some means, but there 

 were no bones broken. 



Pobins are sometimes to be found dead from no visible 

 cause, but the robin is a species of the kind leading a 

 harder life and with more anxieties on his mind seem- 

 ingly than his more calm and contemplative relatives. 



, A. C. T. 



BIRDS IN CENTRAL NEW BRUNSWICK. 



I GIVE below some notes on the birds of this section, 

 « beginning with dates of arrivals in 1889, 1890 and 

 1891: 



1869. IS'JO. 



Crow March 13 March 12 



Canada goose Marc 1 1 %i 



Juueo, . . , . , , . March 26 April 4 



Blue heron... ADril 18 Aprils 



Robin , April 1 April 7 



Song sparro-w April 9 



Crow blackbird April 10 April 14 



Sharp-shin hawk April 1!) 



Wood swallow April 25 April 22 



Flicker April 16 April 23 



Hermit thiush April 21 April 23 



Bave swallow April 26 



Ring-neck clack.-, April 23 



Kingfisher ..May 8 April 24 



Chippy sparrow. ., May 9 April 24 



Yellow-bellied woodpecker April 24 



Winter wren April 28 A pril 24 



Osprey.. April 20 April 25 



Wmte-throatfd fparrow.. April 29 April 27 



Redp ill linn" t April 17 April 30 



Purple martin April 26 May 2 



Wilson's snipe May 2 



Barn swallow May 10 



Wbitr-crowned sparrow. . May 10 



Blnetird May 0 May 10 



Field sparrow April 5 



Chimney swift May 14 



Loon April 25 May] 4 



Black-cheek warbler.. May 17 



Kingbird May 17 



Yellow-- ump warbler May IS 



Redstart May 19 



Black a^d white creeping 



warbler... May 31 



Hemlock warbler May 21 



Nigbthawk May 22 



VVhrppoorwill May 4 May 23 



Thistle finch April 30 May 23 



C< dar bird May 9 June 11 



Cuckoo June 13 



March 13 

 April 1 

 April 9 

 April 16 

 April 23 

 April 15 

 April 28 

 April 2S 

 April IS 

 April 19 

 April 15 

 May 16 



April 2-i 

 April 19 

 April 28 



March 13 

 April 28 



May'ii'"' 



April 19 ' 

 April 19 

 May r. 

 May S 



May 30 " 

 May fT 

 May 31 



May 34 

 May 7 

 May 9 

 June 13 

 May 31 



In 1888 a crow's nest was found containing ten eggs; a 

 very large number. That same year a robin was seen as 

 late as Dec. 21. As a rule they leave during the first two 

 weeks of October. In 1890 a robin was seen Nov. 20. 



Nov. 22, 1891, I saw a golden-winged woodpecker; this 

 was very late. Oct. I is the time that the last of them go 

 south. Mating commences as soon as they arrive in the 

 spring, and commence laying the latter part of May, 

 and the first of June. 



The white-crowned sparrow does not breed here, and I 

 have never seen it in the fall. It is here only for a few 

 days in the spring; and in 1891 I saw none. 



Never until the spring of '91 have I seen a shrike in the 

 spring migration. 



A chipping sparrow passed the winter of 1890-91 in a 

 barn near here until a saw-whet owl got into the barn 

 and killed the sparrow. 



Aug. 6, 1891, I saw an albino robin. It was one of a 

 flock of about fourteen birds. I tried to secure it but 

 could not get near enough to shoot it. 



There seem to be more winter birds here this winter 

 than for a number of years. 



A goodly quantity of ruffed grouse are left for next 

 fall's shooting. They have had a very easy winter so far. 

 There has not been any crust, to imprison them when they 

 are covered in the snow. 



The crows have commenced their spring migration. 

 One was seen as early as March 8. About ten miles from 

 here they stay all winter, but in very small numbers. 



The bobolink does not breed here, although about four 

 miles distant they are quite numerous. W. H. Moore. 



Scotch Lake, March 17. 



Mallard.— We read so often about mallard drakes and 

 mallard ducks, and sometimes of mallard hens, that we 

 hope it will not be amiss to say that the word mallard 

 means drake and nothing else, so that the "duck and 

 mallard" is only the "duck and drake;" and in England 

 he is called the wild drake. One had as well speak of a 

 male man as of a mallard drake, or of a male woman as 

 of a mallard duck. To be sure, mallard is the generic 

 name of this family of ducks, just as the term man in- 

 cludes the human family; yet, speaking with accuracy, 

 a man kills 10 mallards and 20 ducks, not 10 mallard 

 drakes and 20 mallard ducks. Though for short we would 

 say 80 mallards tumbled to the racket— Q, E, D. (Brown's 

 Valley, Minn.), 



