AVQ: 11, 1892.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



118 



tucky delegation — and Barney's tent did not need it, as 

 they were partly sheltered from the blast by some bushes. 

 (Mem. — It is not hard to fiad your tools and other things 

 in the dark if you have a place for everything and keep 

 everything in its place, and another good line of conduct 

 in a camp is, when you see anything that needs doing, 

 go and do it, and you won't have to stand around waiting 

 for some one else to do it. This is a good rule for the 

 veterans as well as the you.ngsters.) 



The boats were next attended to by pulling them up on 

 the beach out of the reach of the rollers — a tough job 

 for one — and then I went back and inspected the camp to 

 see if everything was going to hold against the gale. I 

 found all snug, and the boys apparently sound asleep, 

 except Kelpie, and the Colonel, who had began to realize 

 there was quite a blow going on outside, and they were 

 discussing the matter of getting out to see what old 

 Hickory was doing, but when they found everything had 

 been looked after they changed their minds. 



I turned in and went to sleep to the whistle of the 

 wind and the roar of the surf on the beach; a strain of 

 music that is always soothing to him who is in sympathy 

 with nature and the wind god's moods. Kingfisher. 



"PODGERS" IN THE MOUNTAINS. 



In the Sierra Nevada Mountains, California, July 

 21.— Editor Forest and Stream: It seems but a few 

 days ago that I sat in your editorial sanctum, in your 

 best chair, with my feet on the table, after the usual 

 manner of editor's visitors, and here I find myself, "doing 

 the grand in a foreign land 3,000 miles away," perched 

 up near the very summits of the Nevada range, some 

 six or seven thousand feet above sea level, inhaling the 

 fresh, dry, invigorating atmosphere of the piny woods — 

 while you poor mortals, slaves of the ring, are doubtless 

 sweltering and perspiring over your work. At least, I 

 suppose so; for, thank the stars, I am out of reach of 

 telegrams, newspapers, mails or females. Think of the 

 luxury, the satisfaction, of being out of reach of the 

 telegraph fi.end. Well! I am. There is many a mile of 

 sum mit and canon — mountains and valleys — between us. 



Where am I? Doubtless you yearn to know of such a 

 spot. If you are j)repared to leave the drowsy, shade- 

 embowered little town of Sonora, Tuolumne county, 

 California, at an early hour one of these delightfully 

 cool mornings, and di'ive 35 miles over a good road, 

 climbing gradually up, up, all the way nearly, you will 

 arrive in the afternoon at a little oasis or valley, where 

 there is a roadside station or hostelry with good accom- 

 modations for man and beast. It is within a stone's throw 

 of one of the branches or tributaries of the Stanislaus 

 River, a rapid and in places torrent-like stream, roaring 

 over huge rocks and boulders, with intervals of placid 

 waters, beautifully clear and icy cold, where the trout 

 are supposad to lurk, awaiting the impatient fisherman. 



They had not long to wait for your humble servant, 

 who was soon equipped with his best split-bamboo and a 

 trio of the most killing flies in his pocketbook. The sun 

 was just dropping behind the tall pines at the summit 

 of the high peaks inclosing the valley, casting lengthen- 

 ing shadows across the stream, as the first cast was 

 made and a moderate-sized trout found a peaceful rest- 

 ing place in the creel, soon to be joined by numprous 

 friends and relations to keep him from being lonesome. 



I have no big tale to tell of my "catch" nor of the 

 whopper lost; the whoppers had gone up to the lakes 

 above; but the hotel -table abounded that evening and 

 next morning with all the trout a dozen hearty appetites 

 could dispose of. I have had better fishing, and I have 

 had much worse, the trout of medium size, as fat as but- 

 ter, and had the firmness and hardness that cold water 

 gives them in mountain streams. The insect food seemed 

 very abundant and the "crop" of every fish caught was 

 full to repletion of this natural food, hence they were 

 not over-anxious to take the artificial, and they bit lan- 

 guidly as if they merely took the fly to be obliging; still 

 a good many found their way into the basket, all that a 

 reasonable fisherman could ask for and not be a fish hog. 



The next morning was simply a repetition as to size and 

 numbers. It was what might be termed rough fishing, 

 for there were huge rocks and boulders lining the shores 

 to be climbed over to reach the pools in the deep gorges, 

 with the usual accompaniment of slips, slides and barked 

 shins. But what does a fisherman care for such trifles? 



The next day was devoted to rest, lounging in the shade 

 overhauling tackle and applying arnica and mutton tal- 

 low to damaged cuticle. On the following day along 

 came a trio of cattle herders bound over the range to one 

 of their possessions in the valley seven or eight miles dis- 

 tant, thi'ough which the main Stanislaus River runs, and 

 an invitation to join them and partake of the hospitality 

 of their camp was accepted. Blankets and traps were 

 loaded on a pack horse, and we were soon climbing the 

 next range, following a very blind trail— blind to any 

 one but these hardy mountaineers, though as easy to 

 them to follow as a turnpike. It was a long climb — up, 

 up, ever up; and the rarified atmosphere caused us low- 

 land fellows to blow like porpoises. Arriving at the 

 sumnait we halted under the shade of the great pines to 

 rest and cool off; and then commenced the descent — in 

 places so steep as to cause much weai" and tear to the seats 

 of our canvas overalls as we slid down, catching at 

 bushes to check our too great speed. The horses, plant- 

 ing their feet, plowed their way down, often threatening 

 to come on top of us. An hom- and a half of this warm 

 work brought us to the foot of the grade and to the river, 

 a large, rapid stream too deep to ford; but the boys soon 

 produced a dugout and we crossed over, swimming the 

 horses, and stood upon the level ground— a so-called 

 meadow a couple of miles long, furnishing good grass for 

 cattle and horses, which constituted the farm or ranch 

 of our hosts. 



Saddling our horses again, we rode up the trail to the 

 extreme end of the valley, where the camp was located 

 at the base of a towering ledge of rocks running sky- 

 ward thousands of feet. Across the river ascended from 

 the water's edge a similar range. No scenery in Switzer- 

 land can equal the grandeur and awe-inspiring sight. 

 The tall pines at the summit seemed mere bushes at that 

 great height. 



An hour's rest in the shade, a hearty lunch, and we 

 were ready for the fray — and spray — of the roaring, 

 rearing, tearing stream before us, scarcely fifty feet dis- 

 tant. We anticipated great sport as we jointed uj) rods, 

 but as we started om- hosts took a little of the edge off 

 our enthusiasm by wai-ningus to look sharp for "rattlers," 



which pleasant neighbors, they said, were numerous and 

 belligerent, and it was a poor day for snakes when they 

 did not kill a dozen while mowing down on the flat, and 

 quite frequently a stray one around the cabin. It was 

 not a pleasant thought, that while you were landing a 

 big trout an Eve's tempter might be behind you selecting 

 the most vulnerable poiut of yom* physical system to give 

 you an excuse for drinking all the whisky in camp; and 

 I knew that the frequent appeals to our only flask on the 

 way over had left but a scarce dose in the way of cure in 

 case of a bite. However, the trout was what we were 

 there for, not snakes, and we proceeded to business. The 

 fishing was good, much better than on the other stream, 

 and larger fish; and the two of us came in at sundown 

 with baskets well filled, content and very hungry. 



A frying-pan full of the catch was soon giving forth 

 delicious odors of frying fish and bacon, mixed with 

 wafts from the tin coffeepot. The camp afforded the 

 luxury of a rude table, and seats were supplied by empty- 

 boxes; and soon we were at work, taking it in a primi- 

 tive way, every fellow with a trout in his fingers, stand- 

 ing not on the order of his munching, with occasional 

 approving remarks, such as "By shiminy, ain't those 

 trout fine! Give us another." There were five in the 

 party, and the artist of the frying-pan is prepared to 

 make affidavit that he cooked eight dozen, and they were 

 not small trout by any means, so that considering there 

 were other edibles besides — coffee, bread, bacon, etc., it 

 may be surmised that there were some mountain appe- 

 tites in the party. 



The usual luxury of a pipe, stories by our hosts of their 

 hunting and adventures in these mountains, as we lolled 

 at full length around the camp-fij-e, brought us in due 

 time to the question of sleep. Our blankets were spread 

 on the pine needles and the silence not soon unbroken 

 except by the roar of the river and the chirrup of crick- 

 ets. 



It was many hours before I fell asleep, for as I lay look- 

 ing up through the pine treetops at the stars the question 

 of snakes became a very vivid one in my mind. Before 

 leaving New York I had given much attention to the cor- 

 respondence in the Forest and Stream on the subject 

 whether rattlesnakes did or did not "spit" or eject their 

 poisons, and in consequence I had a pretty heavy dose of 

 snake on the brain, which, now that I was brought in 

 such close communion with the pesky things, was re- 

 vived with most unpleasant vividness. I said to myself 

 as I lay listening to the rustling of every leaf, "What is 

 to prevent Mr. Snake from coming crawling along through 

 the dry grass on his predatory excursions for his supper 

 and coming to me lying there nice and handy, and 

 saying to himself, 'Hello! here's a tenderfoot; his ear looks 

 rather tempting. I'll give him a nip'." I pulled the 

 blanket over my head and tucked it in all around me. 

 But it was useless. Sleep and rattlesnakes would not 

 fraternize. How I cussed those contributors of snake 

 lore of yours. I would like to have had every mother's 

 son of them lying outside of me and around me as bar- 

 riers and let them have a good opportunity to ascertain 

 whether rattlers do "spit" before they bite or after or 

 not at all. The question would cease to be one of inter- 

 est to them very soon thereafter no doubt; but anyhow I 

 wished they were all there to take their chances. Finally ' 

 I fell asleep, after realizing the fact that the growing 

 chilliness of the mountain air was calculated to discour- 

 age such tramps, my hosts having assured me that when 

 it began to get cold the reptiles suspended business, 



I awoke suddenly soon after daybreak to find myself 

 all right, and we were all soon astir; and going down to the 

 river indulged in ablutions in water so cold as to render 

 the fire very desirable to warm our benumbed fingers. 



A hearty trout breakfast followed, and my fishing com- 

 panion was soon off again after more trout; but your 

 humble servant was hors -de comhat — done up — gone in 

 his underpinning. Ill-fitting rough hunting boots had 

 monopolized more than a fair share of the cuticle of the 

 feet in them — in other words, had ' 'chawed" my feet up 

 to that condition to render it perfectly impossible to travel, 

 and particularly to clamber over those big rocks and 

 boulders necessary to get to the pools. So instead of fish- 

 ing I spread my blankets under the trees, and finding- 

 some old newspaper sstuffed in the crack of the log cabin (a 

 year and a half old). Hay on my back, read, smoked and 

 doctored my feet. My chum accused me of funking and 

 making the excuse of lameness in fear of those promised 

 rattlers; but when I showed him my trotters and the 

 barren patches — barren of cuticle — he apologized, Our 

 hosts having their work to do, left me to my own devices, 

 and I enjoyed a day of the most perfect luxury of indo- 

 lence — laziness, if you will — ^and rest that had fallen to 

 my lot since the Concord fight. The novelty of the situ- 

 ation, such a change of surroundings from the lurid 

 streets of Gotham, the grand scenery, the delightful at- 

 mosphere, the lulling roar of the river, all combined 

 served to make it a day to be remembered for a life time. 

 I thought of friends I left behind me, how they would 

 howl in ecstacy to be there, and you poor, tired wheel 

 horse of the editorial department, what would you have 

 given to have been lying on your back under that big 

 pine tree towering 200ft. above your bead? Can you 

 imagine it? * Even hypotheticaUy, like the mongoose in 

 the basket? 



I am sorry for people that can't come to California and 

 catch trout 6,i000ft. above the sea level, lie on their backs 

 under big pine trees, and know that for three months to 

 come they can live in the open, with never a cloud nor 

 drop of rain to dampen their camp traps, where the days 

 are all sunshine and warmth, the nights cool enough for 

 blankets, and where sleep is a luxury, and where snakes 

 don't come, even if you do lie awake expecting them. 



PODGEiBS. 



"[MORE TO OOME.] 



"A hare in the garden! Hand me a gun, Jacques." "But, 

 sir, it is 5 in the morning; everybody is asleep." "Never 

 mind; I'll fire on tiptoe"— ie Monde 'Illmtre. 



The Emergency Medicine Case.— The Emergency Medicine 

 Case, advertised in our columns, is the best thing of the kind we 

 have ever seen, and something no traveler or camper should be 

 without. It contains in remarkable small compass a dozen stand- 

 ard medicines for the ills that arise from change of climate, water, 

 etc., as well as bandages, antiseptic cotton, etc., for the treat- 

 ment of wounds resulting from aecldent. The case is of tin, rea- 

 sonably tight, and as it measures less than ,.6in. in length caa 

 easily he carried in the pocket. The medicines are ingeniously 

 packed, and as they are all in solid form cannot spill and soil the 

 pocket. The drugs are guaranteed to be pure, and altogether the 

 case seems to flU a long felt want at a price that puts it within 

 the reach of all,— ^cfu. 



VOICES OF THE NIGHT. 



It is a quiet night. The atmo.'3phere, clear as a bell 

 after the gale which so lately blustered over the marshes, 

 tingles with a faint suggestion of frost, though the light 

 air, which wafts the smoke-wreaths from my pipe, is ia 

 the south. 



There is no moon, only the misty starlight sparkling 

 and snapping, in reflected glints from the still surface of 

 the.pools, scattered here and there through the marsh. 



So still is it that we distinctly hear the metallic tong! 

 tongl—tinki tinit! of a cow-bell, way across on the up- 

 lands, where the cattle wander. 



Plaintive, sweet in the stillness, there comes down to 

 us the call of passing birds. 



"Out of sight, out of mind" is a trite old saying, but in 

 this case it is not fitting. 



High up, somewhere in cloudland, a little flock of butit^ 

 ings is traveling. How do I know they are buntings? 

 Listen! Pink! pink!— Pink! pink!— did you hear it? 



Far away over the marsb, where the shadows are inky 

 black, suddenly there rings a trumpet note Orr-ronJc! 

 only once, but startling, with its indescribable tone of 

 wild, free life. That clarion tells us that fa.r out there in 

 the darkness a big gray goose is guiding its broad-winged 

 followers through the night. In the morning perchance 

 we may say, "1 heard geese last night." But will that 

 describe it all? 



Hark! a xohirr-r rr of wings seems to fill the air, as a 

 bunch of ducks goes over. Every wing beat jiroclaims 

 their identity as they speed away. Whistlers! Properly 

 named from the shrill sound that accompanies the flight 

 of these lovely birds. 



Still we hear them icheu-xi-iiuu! fainter — fainter it 

 grows — all is silence. 



A swish-h-h of swift wings followed immediately by a 

 sounding surge, announces that some sort of water-fowl 

 has alighted near by, and presently a raucous quack be- 

 trays the presence of a dusky duck (Anas obscura), A 

 startling -whirr, a pattering of feet and wing tips on the 

 calm water as he rises, and again the music of unseen 

 wings throbs on the air as he darts away into the night. 



From the northeast, where the Pleiades with their soft 

 light are glowing in the heavens, there comes a weird 

 cry, as of a pack of homids in chase. Faint at first, it has 

 grown with each repetition, until the welkin rings at in- 

 tervals with the mysterious voices as they pass. What 

 can they be? Our wonder is dispelled as old darky Jake 

 pokes his wooly head out the cabin, with the query, 

 "Hear dem swan, boss?" From some sedgy lake in the 

 far North they have voyaged, their snowy wings have 

 fanned the air by night, unseen, unknown, save as their 

 wild notes come down to us. 



Twice each year this living stream of bird life flows 

 under the stars. Now north, now south, as the seasons 

 come and go. We hear the clanging cries of wildfowl, 

 and again the soft notes of their lesser brethren, like the 

 chime of far-away bells, float out upon the night, clear, 

 musical. Is it so very strange that one should find a fas- 

 cination in listening to these "Voices of the Night?" 



Wjlmot Townsend, 



Bay Ridge, N. Y. 



AS TO MULE DEER. 



Lake City, Minn.— Editor Forest and Stream: In 

 your paper of July 21 is an article from "Sylvan" entitled 

 "The Mule Deer in Domestication." In this article the 

 idea is conveyed that the mule deer is a species separate 

 and distinct from the blacktail deer. I think this is an 

 error. Af ter a residence of two years in the habitat of 

 the blacktail — northern Montana — I believe the mule deer 

 to be a blacktail. I have questioned many old frontiers- 

 men and hunters, and ail agree that the deer sometimes 

 called the "mule deer" is an old, abnormally large black- 

 tail doe, and that it is no uncommon thing to find them 

 with what is termed "a roman nose," as is the case with 

 some horses, and specimens have been killed that would 

 weigh over 375lbs. The writer in fact saw the carcass of 

 one such the past fail, which was shot on McDonald 

 Creek, Fergus county, Montana, which weighed when 

 dressed 28ilbs. 



I have never known a doe and fawns to be separated in 

 flight, except the fawns be cut off, and by the time that 

 they follow the doe they are eminently able to keei? 

 with their dam. 



They shed their horns at the same time the whitetail 

 and elk do, along about the middle of the winter. The 

 new growth of horn is covered with velvet nntil full 

 grown, and when the horns are full and hard the velvet 

 is disposed of by rubbing against trees and brush. 



It is very diiScult to preserve satisfactorily a head that 

 has been killed in the velvet; it can be done, however, by 

 hanging the head with the horns point downward, and 

 daily inserting a darning needle through the velvet on the 

 points of the horns. This permits the blood and the 

 watery matter in the velvet to escape, and the velvet will 

 then dry up without spoiling or shiinking unevenly. 



A well known sportsman, Mr, John Sinclair, of Great 

 Falls, Montana, has his own fun out of a colt's head, on 

 which he has mounted the horns in velvet of a spike elk. 

 Mr. Sinclair is not only a successful hunter, but a skilled 

 taxidermist, and has a collection embracing many of the 

 game animals and birds of this region, and nearly every 

 specimen is a trophy of his ability as a hunter. 



S. M. E. 



[Throughout the West until the Cascade Mountains are 

 reached the blacktail is a mule deer and the mule deer 

 a blacktail. In other words these are two names applied 

 to the same species. Mule deer is the book name, but 

 blacktail the common one. On the Pacific coast is found 

 the true blacktail or Columbian blacktail deer, which is 

 quite a different animal from the big-eared fellow of the 

 plains and the mountains. The great ears and the pecu- 

 liar tail of C, macrotis will always serve to distinguish 

 it from its relative 0. coliimbiamis, which more closely re- 

 sembles the whitetail or Virginia deer than does the long- 

 eared species known as blacktail or mule deer.] 



