April 28. 1893. J 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



898 



men. Then came bulletin number two, fresh from the 

 scene of action : 



Ridley's woods scoured. Six grouse Hushed. Wild buds. Only 

 two points. C. scored one. Old mill in ruins. Woods recently 

 cleared away along the brook. Looks desolate. 



Alas, the devasting axe! Along the brook that cascaded 

 through the heart of Ridley's woods, I remember, as a 

 boy, what magnificent giants of hemlock, pine, and ash 

 used to lift their proud heads toward the sky — so grand, it 

 seemed to me that no woodsman would ever dare touch 

 them. But they are all slain now, those giants! I can 

 imagine how the spot looks, with the great ragged stumps 

 here and there, the heaps of brushwood withering and 

 brown, the soil torn by logging and teaming, even the 

 brook choked with refuse, and fast dwindling into a mere 

 thread of water, under the unchecked rays of the sun. 



I rf member the old mill, too. It was deserted as long 

 ago as when we used to play among the flcorless beams, 

 or on the framework of the great log-carriage, truants 

 from»school. It had done its vandal work, and nature 

 had covered up the results, before we were born. 



I wonder where Charlie bagged his grouse? Not far 

 from the old mill, I am pretty sure. That knoll facing 

 southeast, you remember it ? where the brakes grew scat- 

 tering among the birches and pines. Here we were 

 almost sure to start a brace of birds, every time we visited 

 the woods. I fancy I see Marco on a point, backed 

 staunchly by Fritz; Lester creeping up the knoll to flush 

 the bird; Charlie stationed on the edge of the alders below. 

 Two grouse thunder up. Lester fires a couple of quick 

 snap shots, misses with both barrels, but turns one of the 

 birds, and it swings over Charlie. A quick quartering 

 shot, a cloud of feathers, and out among the alders a 

 heavy thump, and then tattoo of wings. "Dead bird, 

 Marco! Fetch!*' And the mottled beauty is brought 

 daintily to hand, duly admired, and then consigned to 



Charlie's game-pocket, where But, confound it, here 



comes another precious bit of demagoguery from Wash- 

 ington ! 



Another telegram at 12-M, just before I go out to 

 lunch : 



Have just sat down by the iron spring to discuss grub. Bag, two 

 grouse and one woodcock; last two Lester's. Woodcock in swale by 

 MillikenY,, Grouse in Hillmau';j woods. 



A pleasant picture to take out with me to my own lunch 

 in spite of the sad contrast between a dingy city restaurant 

 and the soft piny bank by the iron spring! I can taste 

 that crystal spring water now— just enough of the iron 

 flavor to make it grateful to the palate and bracing to the 

 system, I would rather have a cupful of it, just at this 

 moment, than a bottle of Madeira. 



So Lester has retrieved himself? Well, two grouse and 

 a woodcock make a good foundation for a bag; but T shall 

 expect more of my chums, after they hive finished their 

 sandwiches and doughnuts, and smoked their cigars. 



At 3:30 came this: 



Id the midst of a covey of Boh Whites, in the brush just below John 

 Curry's orchard. Flushing and shooting at scattered singles since 

 1:3). Five birds bagged. .Siiells running low. 



How many times have I started the ancestral covey of 

 that bunch myself! I wager I could tell just where the 

 dogs drew and pointed — in that briery ravine leading 

 from the orchard down toward the scrub oaks. There 

 was Hidden flurry of wings — birds swift as bullets dis- 

 appearing in every direction. Charlie and Lester fired 

 four barrels for nothing, and then marked the bevy down 

 in the brush. It is curious how quail will lie in almost 

 the same spots, generation after generation of them, year 

 after year. Yet it is no more remarkable, I suppose, than 

 that robins should nest in the same orchard generation 

 after generation, or swallows come back every year to 

 haunt the same chimney. The homing instinct of birds 

 seems to be their most characteristic trait. 



The final telegram was received at 5:30. It said : 



Huut finished. Shells all gone. Grand total, 3 grouse, 6 woodcock, 

 9 quail. Tired and hungry, but had grand time. 



Yes, a grand time, my worthy friends and true sports- 

 men! Keen sport, without slaughter: every bird earned 

 by skill and manly toil: nature's beauties adding their 

 subtle charm to the day's enjoyment — healthful, honest, 

 manly, memorable pleasure, yours! Would that I had 

 been with you. Yet so long as I could not, thanks to that 

 aerial spirit who brought me tidings of you, swift and 

 true as a beam of light. Best of all outdoor joys, an out- 

 ing with dog and gun. But next to that, it the sports- 

 man must needs be deprived of actual participation, give 

 me the unique pleasure of a hunt by telegraph ! 



Paul Pasts or.. 



KATAHD1N IN WINTER. 



r I "'HERE ia avast difference between the blue, far away 

 JL mountain one sees from Patten and Mattawamkeag 

 stage line and the rugged, cloud- vailed Katahdin a closer 

 acquaintance reA T eals. On the left, as you follow the 

 Appalachian Club's trail into the South Basin, the rocky 

 wall gradually rises higher and higher until it forms the 

 peak Pomola. The path then leads you through a thick, 

 black growth out on to the shores of a beautiful littie 

 pond, shut in from the outer world by nearly perpendicu- 

 lar wall3 over 2,000ft. high. 



The basin is not, as many suppose and as its peculiar 

 shape would indicate, the crater of an extinct volcano. 

 A geologist, who is an authority on all matters pertaining 

 to Katahdin, once told me that the basin, the crater-like 

 shape of which was purely accidental, was once the head 

 of a glacier. White streaks down the mountain indicate 

 the presence of numerous snow drifts until well in June, 

 and early in September morning after morning finds the 

 mountain white with snow. 



Those who have visited Katahdin in the cool days of 

 late September can form an idea of the trials and hard- 

 ships that attend an ascent in winter. Such a trip is not 

 very often undertaken, and you may be sure my friend 

 and I were surprised on arriving at Ayer & Rogers's the 

 37th of last February, to find a small party preparing for 

 a trip the following day. We soon obtained permission 

 to accompany them and set out to find snowshoes and 

 other things we would need. This camp is known as the 

 Bucsell Camp, and is on the head waters of the Wissata- 

 quork quite near Katahdin. 



By 8 o'clock nexD morning our party, consisting of the 

 clerk, a cook, a sledtender, the writer and a friend, left 

 camp and proceeded up the logging road a short dis- 

 tance, and then, puttiug on our snowshces, followed up a 

 deep run between two mountains. 



As we neared the ragged side of the more eastern one 

 the sun [rapidly sank and disappeared, leaving us in a 

 somber twilight. We followed the spotted line that we 

 soon found, up the extreme northern end of Katahdin, 

 through forests that the lumberman's ax has not yet in- 

 vaded, out into the bright sunlight again. By 11 o'clock 

 we were well up the mountain. The cedar, maple and 

 white birch of the lower country had disappeared, leaving 

 only stunted spruce and a tough-barked white birch. 

 The springs were all under six or eight feet of snow, and 

 after an attempt to melt snow in birchbark dishes we 

 were obliged to eat our lunch without water. 



A few minutes' walk brought us out of the timber. Far 

 below us we could see the rocky course of the Wissata- 

 quork. The Chamberlin and Sourdnakunk lakes lay 

 white and cold a little to the northwest, while below us to 

 the east was Katahdin Lake and the Wissataquork Moun- 

 tains. 



We had come prepared for an Arctic coldness but were 

 much surprised to find it quite warm. There was little 

 wind and the sun shone much warmer than in the more 

 shaded valley. We took off our snowshoes for the snow 

 was hard enough to bear up caribou, as the many tracks 

 attested. The rocks, which were only partly covered by 

 snow, made hard walking for our moccasined feet as we 

 picked our way round the nearly perpendicular walls of 

 the north basin. 



We amused ourselves by rolling rocks over the edge of 

 one of the immense snow drifts which encircle the basin 

 and watched them as they bounded down the glistening 

 snow until they disappeared, looking no larger than an 

 egg. Toboggan sliding may be very exciting but we 

 thought an involuntary slide down one of these drifts 

 was too much of a good thing, and so gave them a wide 

 berth. 



As we went down the north peak a caribou lifted his 

 bead from the frozen mass and gazed inquisitively at us. 

 He soon decided that we were no friends of his and 

 trotted off followed by seventeen more. They ran round 

 the north peak, and when we came back that night we 

 saw where they had gone down the mountain. Across 

 the level plateau that connects the north and south spurs 

 the walking was easy, but when we began to ascend the 

 south f-pur we found hard climbing. 



The rockp, and they were by no means few and far 

 between, were sharp, and the snow was very slippery. 

 Sometimes we were obliged to use each other as ladders. 

 However, the view from Monument Peak, which is the 

 highest point in the State, amply repaid us for our 

 trouble. It was a little smoky, but still we had a gcod 

 view. 



A long wh-'te expanse of snowshowed us where Chesen- 

 cook lay. To the west we could see part of Moosebead 

 and Mt, Kineo, and in the smoky distance could make out 

 what we thought must be the White Mountains. 



Over 2,000ft. below us was Basin Pond, and piled over 

 the trees and rocks that carpet the South Basin was over 

 200ft. of snow. The steeples of Patten could be faintly 

 seen against their dark background of forest, marking 

 one of the chain of settlements that stretched cold and 

 drear under the winter euu, from Bangor to northern 

 Aroostook. The wind blew fresh and strong up there, 

 but still it was not so cold but what we could write a 

 short account of our trip on the back of an old letter, 

 which we carefully placed in a crevice in the monu- 

 ment. 



It was then 2 o'clock, and as we were a hard seven 

 miles from camp our faces were turned homeward. We 

 made a very rapid descent of the south peak. I must 

 say, however, that some of us spent the next evening 

 patching the seat of our trousers. 



On the sunny side of the north peak we found in the 

 hollows of the rocks a few swallows of water, the first 

 we had tasted since leaving camp. The remaining four 

 miles were soon traveled; and by 4 o'clock we were in 

 camp, having; easily made the ascent of Katahdin on the 

 28th day of February. L, 



Patten, Maine. 



JOHN LYLE KING. 



A KNIG BTLY character and a noble sportsman passed away 

 in the death of John Lyle King, yesterday morning, April Hi. 

 There was no figure at the Chicago bar known better than this 

 tall, thin, nervous yet dignified one. As a criminal lawyer Mr. 

 King's reputation had lor years been great. He might have re- 

 tired in permanent ease and perpetual respect long years ago in 

 his old age; for he was very old. His vigor kept him on in his 

 chosen work. His legal opponents still feared him, but neither 

 opponent nor friend could help respecting and loving him, for he 

 was always chivalrous and fair. For only about a year had his 

 failing health lessened his efforts in the profession that he loved 

 and honored. His end was quiet and painless. 



John Lyle King, was born in Indiana, and won early distinction 

 there. He came to Chicago in 1856, and his success here is known. 

 His reputation as a sportsman of a quiet kiDd was second only to 

 that as a counselor aud pleader. For years his name has been on 

 the law committee of the Illinois State Sportsmen's Association. 

 All our older sportsmen knew him, and all the younger ones re- 

 spected him to the point of awe. In the regard of Western sports- 

 men, Mr. King stood hand in hand with the Hon. John Dean 

 Caton, the only figure with whom we may compare him. Such 

 men dignify the whole field of sportsmanship. 



John Lyle King was very fond of angling, and was skillful in 

 his favorite sport. He was one of the early ones to taste the full 

 glories of the Brule River. He wrote about that stream, and his 

 boot, "Trouting on the Brule River; or. Summer Wayfan'ng in 

 the Wilderness," showed him in a new light to his friends, who 

 did not dream this stately man had such a fund of laughter in his 

 heart. This book found a high place in angling literature, and 

 deserved it. About two months ago the writer was talking with 

 Mr. King, seeking something further from hi6 pen for the columns 

 of Foitest AND Stream. "No, I can't write any more," said he; 

 •'I am too old and too busy. I wrote my book at odd times. There 

 are a few copies of it left, which I keep now to give to my friends. 

 Come around to my office some day and I will gladly give you a 

 copy. But I am afraid 1 shall not write any more." I count it 

 great misfortune that when the call was made at the modest, 

 dingy little room which pleased Mr. King as an office. Mr. King 

 was not found in. I have never seen him since. At that time he 

 was very thin and frail. 



Mr. King was never married. He cared nothing for society. 

 A student and an eccentric, he loved only the problems of the 

 law and the mysteries of the forest. He is beside the still waters 

 now. The stock which bore him blossoms too rarely into flower. 



E, H. 



THE WATER OUSEL. 



THE very interesting and instructive letter from the 

 pen of my friend, O. O. Smith, in Forest and 

 Stream of the 7th inst. about "The Ousel in Oregon," has 

 brought to my mind many pleasant recollections of com- 

 panionship with the "bles'sed ousel," as Prof. Muir calls 

 it, along the trout streams of Oregon and Washington. 



The birds are quite numerous in these States and one is 

 seldom without the entertaining presence of one or more 

 of them for thirty consecutive minutes while fly-fishing. 

 Their twitter is about as much a matter of course as the 

 melodies of the streams themselves. Strange that so 

 littlb is known of them and their unusual ways. I must 

 confess that, not until brother Smith called my attention 

 to the subject did I ever give it much consideration. But 

 I promised him then, and reiterate now, that during my 

 angling trips the coming summer I will closely observe 

 the bird and send him the result of my observations. 

 Truthfully enough be remarks that, "I find that even 

 here, in its home, there are those who have neither seen 

 it nor heard of it." 



A little, nervous, courtesying bird makes its hurried 

 appearance and disappearance without attracting the 

 angler's attention, and, unless he is informed of its pecu- 

 liar habits so that he may intentionally and attentively 

 observe it, he may never know th3t he is in the presence 

 of one of the most remarkable feathered wonders of earth 

 —a feathered fish— and yet one of the prettiest and 

 sweetest of birds. It is true that his notes are not musi- 

 cal in the strict sense of the term, but to the lonely angler 

 on the shadowy stream they are melodiously sweet. 



To-day, while strolling among the rocks up at Willa- 

 mette Falls, I saw several. Last May I found two of their 

 nests among these same rocks, and appreciate the force 

 of Mr. Smith's remarks about the apparent disadvantages 

 under which they must labor in bringing forth their 

 broods in a place so damp and cold, for the spray from 

 the falls is almost continually about them. 



Last summer while fishina: in Washington, well down 

 toward the mouth of the Columbia, on the Elokomon, I 

 was entertained for an hour or more by a pair of ousels 

 that seemed to be giving their brood a first lesson in the 

 mysteries of their amphibious existence. A deep, narrow 

 pool waUedin by great rocky bluffs furnished excellent 

 fishing for myself, and a lovely spot for Mr. and Mrs. 

 Ousel to feed and instruct their "wee bairns." My time 

 and attention were so taken up with the 2-pounders of 

 the pool that I paid little attention at first to the abuse 

 the old birds were heaping upon me. They scolded, they 

 beseeched, as parent birds usually do to drive or coax the 

 invader away, but always with a courtesy. Their per- 

 sistent endeavors and anxious solicitude finally attracted 

 my attention to the little thumb-like sprites' on a rock 

 just across the pool. The old birds seemed to have a vast 

 amount of business on hand, of course, but the little 

 fellows simply sat there demurely taking notes and what 

 "grub" the old birds tendered them. I sat down and 

 quietly watched the birds, hoping to see the little fellows 

 imitate the examples set them of disappearing under the 

 water, but was disappointed; probably in consequence of 

 their tender age. However, after resuming my rod I 

 glanced back and discovered that the baby ousels had dis- 

 appeared : when or how I cannot say, for the rock upon 

 which they had been sitting was entirely surrounded by 

 water, and I am quite sure they could not fly. 



Ordinarily the ousel seems to be quite fearless of man 

 and frequently comes very close to the angler. While 

 on the wing they are, to the best of my recollection, 

 always noisy, and I am somewhat surprised that my 

 friend Smith heard their note but once during his observa- 

 tions of the pair in southern Oregon, S. H. Greene. 

 Poktland, Oregon, April 17, 



"Lordly Female. ' '— Editor Forest and Stream: To 

 look at a batch of type one would hardly think that a lot 

 of fun was lurking beneath their sober-looking exteriors: 

 but there is. I remember how, some time ago, one of 

 your correspondents "got up on his ear" and uttered a 

 howling protest against their turning his partridges into 

 cannibals by making them eat apple tree birds! At a St. 

 Andrews Society dinner a few years ago, one of the mem- 

 bers toasted "the land of the heather," and the frisky 

 little cusses riled the Scots by substituting an n for the r. 

 And now, in my last contribution they talk to your num- 

 ersome readers about the lordly little female humming- 

 bird ! Egad !— Didymc s. 



Bkceni arrivals at the Philadelphia Zoological Gar- 

 dens.— Purchased: One golden-tumped agouti (JMsuprocta aguU), 

 one crfs'eri ha^guest {Osiiriops (lecuvntnitx) <S, two short-tailed 

 parrakeets tPionux bruc-liyuru>t) £ and $ , two green-winged doves 

 (Chalbophaps Uvlicn) a ana 5 , one crested ground parrakeet (Calop- 

 xiita novae holla nrlice'i, two yllbw-headed comixes (Coma- us k-n- 

 rlaya), one harlequin snake {Elaps fat vim), t wo blacksnakes (Bm- 

 canhiiii constrictor), one common hrg-nosed snake (Heterodoti 

 platyrhinm). one pine snake (Pityuplns nithinolnums), one coach- 

 whip snake (Bascctnuan naoelliforme), three glass snakes (Ophio- 

 sattrtt* centralis), and one tree boa (Ziphosoina tioitulana). Pre- 

 sented: One grav squirrel (Sciurus caroUnevsis), one blackbird 

 (Quiscalm versicolor), two peacocks (Pavo eristata), three turtle- 

 doves (Turtur risorius), one yellow-throated parrakeet (Brotoyerys 

 tovi), one banded raitlpsnake (Crotalvx hurtrtdua), one common 

 iguana {Iguana taherculata), two alligatoxs (Alligator rnmissippi- 

 ensis), and one diarnond-bacKed terrapin (Mal4coclemmyspalustris). 

 Born: Two heg deer (Cervus porcinus). 



"Odd bless the mountains," said a great poet, and many a busi- 

 ness man as he wets his flies in one of the Pike or Sullivan county 

 streams, and throws dull care away in ihs boyish joy of freedom, 

 re-echoes the woids. God bless the mountains and the clear 

 streams which theie take their Tise. For the tired dweller in the 

 city there is no medicine like a day spent amoTig the streams and 

 mountains. Lay sside your business. Take a day eff and run 

 down to one of the fishing points on the Erie road— there are 

 hundreds of tbem from Pore Jervis to Hancock or Hawley. 

 A'most anywhere you will And fish, more or less of them, of 

 course, depending on tne locality and a thousand and one com- 

 plications of cireumstanres. But even if your luck is not remark- 

 able and you bring home no tno-pound trout, still you will find 

 enough to pay you for your trip. Better health, better appetite, 

 better sleep, a glimpse of nature's book, and a fxee-hearted enjoy- 

 ment that is not to be found in the city.— Adv. 



The Bridgeport Oun Implement Co. has recently brought out 

 a new and revised price list, of their many specialties, which in- 

 cludes improvements in the models of their legular goods. ss well 

 as new implements. The company wisht s to call especial atten- 

 tion to their handy closers for nitro and black; powders, jointed 

 rifle rods and Paravaseline, their patented lubricant and rust 

 preventive.—^'?''. 



