Nov. 24, 1898.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



445 



A Black Lynx. 



Calais, Me., Nov. 15.— Your cuts of the wild amtnala 

 have all been very fine; the last, Lynx canadensis, very 

 lifelike. This wildcat a few years ago was very common 

 in our woods, and Lynx rufiis did hardly ever occur. 

 Now it is much more abundant than canadensis. About 

 five years ago a taxidermist, Mr. Tappan, secured a black 

 Lynx rufus, a very pretty , glossy black animal. I wanted 

 to procure it for the National Museum, Washington, but 

 as a black lynx was something very rare, he did not care 

 to part with it. It was taken down into southwest Flor- 

 ida. I afterward saw him in Minneapolis and he con- 

 sented to send the skin, which he had tanned, to Wash- 

 ington as a fur specimen. This wildcat {L. rufns) is very 

 abundant in Florida, but much smaller in size. Hair thin 

 and coarse even in winter. Geo. A. Boardman. 



Black Muskrats. 



Brewer, Me. — Black muskrats are not such a rarity as 

 Mr. Koch, in your last issue, seems to think. Though 

 not common in Maine, still some are taken here nearly 

 every year, while in New Jersey and other States they 

 are quite common, so that usually several thousand are 

 offered at the London sales wlienever any rats are sold, 

 March 4, 1889, C. M. Lampson & Co. offered 23,905 black 

 rats. .January 31, 1890. they offered 9,920, and March 28 

 of the same year 14,933, while March 19, 1891, they sold 

 22,028. It is very safe to say that over 20,000 black 

 muskrats are exported every year. M. Hardy. 



"That reminds me." 



THE PANTHER'S SCREAM. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



The many stories you have published of late in regard 

 to the horrible screams of the panther remind me of one 

 which was current here years and years ago, and which 

 I think is timely. 



One of the first settlers here owned a farm which was 

 but a short distance from Grand Eiver. The head of the 

 family was away from home most of the time trading 

 with the Indians, and was on an expedition of this kind 

 when the incident occurred. Late one afternoon one of 

 the boys while working in the garden was nearly para- 

 lyzed by hearing the awfullest, blood-curdling, "hair- 

 lifting" screeches and screams coming from the woods 

 down near the river. He dropped his hoe and ran horror- 

 stricken into the house to find his mother speechless- 

 eyes, ears and mouth wide open, wondering what could 

 possibly make such an unearthly, ear-splitting noise and 

 where it came from. 



An uncle who lived near by soon appeared, gun in 

 hand, dog at heel. "Did you hear it, Jim? What was 

 if? Get your dog and gun; let's go down in the woods," 

 and away they hurried. A careful hunt was made, but 

 no awe-inspiring monster was found, nor even any tracks 

 nor visible signs were seen to indicate that any great 

 calamity had visited that locality. After much wonder- 

 ing, considerable talking and a very careful looking 

 around the house and adjacent fields the subject was 

 dropped for the night. 



In the afternoon of the next day, to their utter amaze- 

 ment there came from the woods down near the river a 

 repetition of the wild, weird, soul-harrowing screeches, 

 yells and shrieks of the previous day. Jim ran for his 

 gun, called his dog, stuck the butcher knife into his boot 

 leg, grabbed an ax and anxiously waited for his uncle, 

 who fully armed and equipped was hurrying along as 

 fast as "his legs could carry him. Down into the woods 

 hurried the would-be monster exterminators, full of fight 

 and just aching for gore. The only means of crossing a 

 deep run was a slippery moss-covered log. The dogs 

 were over and scouting around in the thick brush; the 

 hunters were about in the middle of the log when the 

 dogs set up a howl and a bow-bow. The air was rent, 

 "the earth trembled," so says one of the hunters, there 

 was a succession of sharp, shrill blasts "strong enough to 

 lift your hat ofE your head," or to awaken a good Indian, 

 The noise went whistling and screaming through the for- 

 est until it caromed on the high hills, from which it re- 

 boxmded, split into innumerable fractions, reverberated 

 in discordant whoops across the river, or hissing, buzzing 

 and ringing whirled and twisted away off into space up 

 and down the river valley. Jim dropped his ax and at 

 the same time slipped astraddle of the log, to which he 

 clung until breath was recovered. WTien he looked back 

 his uncle was just scratching up the bank, his wet and 

 muddy clothes bearing ample evidence of where he had 

 rested', "Come home, Jim, come home," he gasped, as 

 soon as he could catch his wind and master his tongue. 

 Toward home they hurried as fast as ever they could, 

 looking back occasionally to see if the monster which 

 had awakened so many echoes and fears was hunting 

 them. 



At home they found the "old man" listening to a nerve 

 destroying tale from the "old woman" in regard to that 

 "horrid thing down in the woods." "What kind of a 

 noise did it make?" asked the father. Whereupon the 

 trio screeched as loud, long and sharp as possible. "Ugh," 

 grunted the old man, "nothing but a steamboat whistle, 

 you durned fools." 



It was the first steam whistle ever heard in the Grand 

 River Valley. The boy is gray-headed now, but he often 

 laughs about his hunting a steamboat whistle with dog 

 and gun. A. W. 



Grand Rapids, Mich. 



The Fast Limited Train South. 



Commencing Sunday, Nov. SO, the Richmond & Danville B, R. 

 (Piedmoni Air Line), in connection with Pennsylvania R. R., will 

 run a solid Pullman Vestibule Train ot Dining and Sleeping Cars 

 between New York and New Orleans, leaving Ne w Tork daily at 

 4:30 P.M. In addition the solid through train will be Pullman 

 Drawing Room Sleeping Cars, New York to Columbia, Augusta, 

 Asheville and Washington to Memphis. The new achednle from 

 New York reaches New Orleans and Memphis within iO hours; 

 Atlanta and Augusta, 31 hours. The South Carolina R. R and the 

 South Bound R. R. will put on fast trains from Columbia to con- 

 neot with the Limited, reducing the time between New York and 

 Charleston to 25 hours, and to Savannah 24 hours, thus opening up 

 a new fast line to southwest Georgia and Florida. Office 339 

 Broadway.— wliiu. 



'mtfe mid 0nij, 



"Ga.nie Laws in Brief,'^ XTnited States and Ca.nada, 

 ■lUv^tratcd, 25 cents. "Book of the Game Laws" {full 

 text), bO cents. 



RECOLLECTIONS OF GOLDEN PLOVER. 



By the time I was twenty-one, inland shooting on the 

 golden plover was a thing of the past in that part of New 

 Jersey where I was raised. It seemed to run out very 

 suddenly and in three or four years the birds became so 

 scarce as not to be worth hunting. But when I was a 

 boy there was little sport more interesting or more certain 

 to be rewarded with a good bag than the shooting on this 

 bird when he visited the plowed fields in the fall. 



The golden plover made himself especially attractive 

 too, by filling a serious gap in the shooting. The mellow 

 twitter of the woodcock had died away in the swamp, 

 while the sharper whistle of his more full-feathered wing 

 was not yet heard along the sapling- covered hillside. 

 Bob White was yet too small and the hare had not left 

 the thickets and gone to the open where there was a 

 better chance to find him. The dove, too, was rising but 

 rarely from the blue masses of the bugloss, the pure pen- 

 etrating note of the upland plover had died away along 

 the sky, and his charming presence had betaken itself 

 you knew not where. Nor was the whizzing wing of the 

 wild duck yet seen along the shore nor the "scape" of the 

 snipe heard in the meadow, nor was the obstreperous 

 wing of the ruffed grouse yet ready to be clipped in the 

 tangled brake. 



This plover was known inland for only about three or 

 four weeks of the year. The fringe gentian had not yet 

 closed its blue, the reddish hue of the sorrel still tinged 

 the slopes, the blue and white of the morning glory still 

 lingered in the pastures, and sheets of flame were curling 

 around the head of the maple, when the plover came to 

 visit the freshly plowed fields of autumn. 



"Rainbirds," "snipe?," "plubbers" and other names 

 they were called by the country folks, and when Sep- 

 tember rains had thoroughly soaked the fields that were 

 plowed for the winter wbeat, they often came in great 

 numbers. High in the air they came, at first in long 

 strings and wedge-shaped masses, now in a crescent with 

 the horns forward, now in the same with the horns turned 

 backward. Over the distant rim of woods he came 

 where the hickory and the chestnut were yellowing, over 

 the outskirts of the wood where blue was creeping over 

 the flattened berries of the blackhaw and the gold of the 

 highholder gleaming among the scarlet leaves of the gum 

 tree whose berries he was watching for their ripening. 



He came with soft, thrilling whistle, that seemed to 

 ripple over from his throat whether swinging high above 

 the hill top where saddening tints were creeping over the 

 oaks, or fanning the air with wings that seemed only to 

 tremble with speed above the fragrant buckwheat fields, 

 or skimming low along the top of the corn where the 

 pumpkins were yellowing among the rows. Gamy, too, 

 he seemed in his robe of black and brown and gray, 

 dotted with gold and white. Fat and sleek he was, too, 

 and when he reached the earth you had something well 

 worth picking up. It was believed that he came from 

 the coast and was "driven in" by the storm; though why 

 he should be driven in by anything it was hard to divine. 

 For he evidently rejoiced in the rain, and when it was 

 driving so hard against the windows that we could hardly 

 see anything else, we could see the dark lines rising above 

 the horizon and skimming the plowed fields as gaily as if 

 rain were their natural element. 



It used to be thought that the birds came for the worms 

 turned up by the plow. This was rather a violent theory, 

 but the fact remains that the freshly plowed fields were 

 their favorite feeding grounds during the rain and after 

 the rain and until they left the country. 



It was along the edge of such fields that we made a 

 blind under the still green and fragrant branches per- 

 haps of some sassafras or wild cherry, or perhaps in a 

 clump of fast reddening blackberry bushes in the corner. 

 Nothing ve^y scientific was required, and a few cornstalks 

 or tumble weeds often servea our purpose well. Some 

 20yds. out in the field from this were set the decoys. 

 Decoys were necessary for real good sport with this bird, 

 though occasionally some country lout with an old single- 

 barreled bit of pot metal having as much fit and balance 

 as a garden rake with a brick hung on the end, but with 

 plenty of patience in hugging a fence corner all day, 

 made a very fair bag. We used to say he suffocated his 

 birds with his vile powder. He used to chuckle over his 

 string and tell us our guns cost too much money, that we 

 put on too many airs and had too much toggery. He 

 used to swear that hornets' nest made better wadding 

 than cut wads and that our caps were too fancy, and that 

 the G. D, was the thing to kill. We had to stand this 

 sometimes, but generally the good success was all our 

 way, and the next year found him using decoys. 



Decoys could at that time be bought in New York and 

 were good imitations of the plover. But when we had 

 none we used to use dead birds propped up with sticks 

 and often used these to supplement the stock of artificial 

 ones. Without a few artificial ones it was often hard to 

 get a start with a few dead ones and involved much tire- 

 some waiting, for when the birds were flying with noth- 

 ing to guide them to any particular spot, you might wait 

 long before any came close enough, though many were 

 flying. 



The decoys set, the whistle was next brought out,' and 

 the tender trilling call of the birds imitated as soon as a 

 flock came in sight. This was a common whistle with a 

 dried pea rattling about below the air vent and made a 

 very good call. 



Sometimes a flock three or four hundred yards and 

 more away would swerve on the instant and come straight 

 to the decoys almost from the first note of the whistle, 

 although other birds were in the air calling or out in the 

 middle of the field. There was nothing to do but hare 

 patience and keep tolerably weU. hidden and play gently 

 with the whistle. Before long with wings hazy with 

 8i)eed they bore down upon you, answering your whistle 

 with their soft notes, so many of them at once that from 

 a large flock it came like the tremolo of some sweet organ 

 pipe. They used to look so sweet and so artless as they 

 came on and twittered in such touching tones that it 

 would now give me eome eompunotions of conscience to 



shoot at them. But when I was a boy I felt they deserved 

 all the bad treatment they got, for they came so seldom 

 and made such a short stay and seemed so smart about 

 keeping out of the way. 



When they massed up a little in air and set their wings 

 to slide down to the decoys then was the critical time 

 with a young shot. Sometimes I could not wait but had 

 to shoot prematurely, to see the whole flock sheer and 

 rise with perhaps one whirling over to the ground. And 

 sometimes I was so excited that I could not get what 

 seemed a good enough aim until they were past and 

 almost out of good reach. And sometimes my finger 

 used to balk on the trigger and refuse to pull it when I 

 had a good aim. Then, too, was the fact that farmer 

 Squizzle's bumpkin was lying along the same fence with 

 a revolutionary relic which was liable to belch villainous 

 odors if anything came within liiOOyds. of it, and spoil a 

 shot for me. The Reverend Simon Snoodle, too, the 

 village preacher, had strolled out with his old musket 

 that had not been fiied since he shot his annual rabbit 

 the winter before in a rail heap back of his house, and 

 firm in the faith that his gun would "kill at 100yds.," a 

 thing that all decent guns were supposed to do as a 

 matter of course in those days, he might shoot from 

 across the field at the very flock at which I was raising 

 the gun. But when the gun was held right, three, four 

 and sometimes half a dozen birds came whirling and 

 gyrating to the ground together. 



How pretty they looked in their soft combinations of 

 gamy colors with black feet and bills and white stripe 

 over the eye, and brownish tails barred with gray. And 

 how gamy they looked even in air as they wheeled in the 

 sun and let the light flash on their glossy black and sped 

 twittering away. What wonder that we hastened out 

 sometimes before the storm had fairly cleared away and 

 shivered in the wet grass till late in the evening. 



But the storm has gone at last and the sunlight streams 

 mellow from a clear sky. Bright are the purple and 

 orange of the meadow beauty that is lingering beyond its 

 time, the pale blue coroUa of the lobelia, the yellow disk 

 and blue or purple rays of the aster shine afar across the 

 pastures where the golden rod and other members of the 

 great host of the composite) are still tinging the land 

 with a background of gold, and the birds are more plenty 

 and numerous than ever. No longer do you have to 

 watch for specks on the horizon or over the nearer wood 

 where the butternut is yellowing by the creek or the che- 

 lone still rears its snake-like head in a corolla of white 

 and red. Low down they come over the fences and the 

 hedges, almost brushing the paling crown of the alder or 

 the scarlet and flame-colored mass of the sumac, and mak- 

 ing the sombre head of the red cedar seem bright with 

 their presence as they whistle so softly past it. 



Over the fence across the field comes another line of 

 little dark bodies with wings quivering with speed on 

 each side, and at the roar of a gun from among the white 

 glistening scales of the everlasting along the fence, three 

 come tumbling somersault to earth, while the rest radiate 

 out in lines like a fan, and then grouping up in a black 

 mass, rise higher and spin away for the next field. The 

 birds you were so confidently expecting a shot at take the 

 alarm and bear oft', too. But you have not long to wait, 

 for from over the corn not far away another line of dark 

 spots is bearing down upon you. And just as it bends to 

 your whistle and each dark bill seems set toward your 

 decoys, out from among the red berries of the wild rose 

 along another fence leaps another sheet of flame too far 

 off for anything but to spoil another shot for you. 



But there seems nothing to do but to stay here, for the 

 birds seem to admire this particular field. If you should 

 go away you might not find as good a one, and if you did 

 some of your rural friends would follow you; for this was 

 about as well established a custom in those days as for 

 one boy to crowd up and drop his line into the same 

 hole where another was pulling out more chubs and sun- 

 fish. I have seen a dozen guns around one twenty-acre 

 field, and yet it would not pay to leave it unless to leave 

 the neighborhood entirely. And if you did you might 

 find nothing, for the plover had favorite places, and the 

 greater part of the country they ignored entirely though 

 the conditions seemed the same. 



But your patience is soon rewarded, and another flock, 

 turning to your whistle, comes spinning down toward 

 the decoys. It runs the gauntlet of the other guns with- 

 out drawing their fire, and stringing out in a crescent 

 bears down with one end toward you, A whirl and a 

 flutter and a medley of black, gray and brown with white 

 and golden spots follows the report of the first barrel, and 

 as the flock rises and sheers it bunches up toward you 

 again, so that at the report of the second barrel it seems 

 almost to rain plover. T. S. Van Dyke. 



Ohio Small Game. 



Cadiz, O., Nov. 10. — The ojjening season was ushered 

 in with a light fall of snow, but nothwithstanding the 

 inclemency of the weather many of our local gunners 

 were out to try their luck, but I did not hear of any large 

 bags being secured. The writer was out with his merry 

 little pack of beagles and had a grand day's sport with 

 the cottontails, bagging five and having several exciting 

 runs, which ended by Mollie going to earth. Quail and 

 grouse are very scarce this season; only saw two of the 

 former, which got up together and one of which was 

 brought to bag by my second barrel. I was also fortu- 

 nate in bagging a fine large male gi-ouae, which the 

 beagles flushed while working on the cold trail of a cot- 

 tontail, and I would have had trouble in finding it if 

 Dandy and Rover (the old reliables) had not come to my 

 assistance, as it was only winged and had run quite a 

 distance from where I had marked it down; ana when 

 the dogs came up it took refuge by flopping into the mid- 

 dle of a creek, where it was floating when I came upon 

 the scene, just as the dogs were going into the water 

 after it. I was out again on the following day and bagged 

 four cottontails and three quail. Game of all kinds is 

 not so plenty as in former years. S. C. G. 



Cold Barrel Shooting. 



Chicago, Nov. 14.— In your issue of Nov. 10 I noticed 

 an item regarding cold barrels. I have found the same 

 to be true in rifle shooting. In U. S, Army rifle compe- 

 tition the riflemen take pains to keep their rifles warm 

 sometimes firing a few rounds of blank cartridge before 

 going to the firing point, R. h. W. 



