316 



able gait on the laat end of the journey if we failed to do 

 it in the first ftlace. 



Soon we came to the petrified stump that marks the 

 distance as only four or five miles from the ranch house. 

 Sugar Loaf and Red Butte loom up in the distance, and 

 the scenery becomes grand and picturesque. Another 

 wolf slinks across the road ahead of us and gets away un- 

 scarred. The turn is made around the head of the Big 

 Knife River, we sweep northward, and the H. A. ranch 

 is in sight. 



Another band of antelope' had been seen across the 

 Knife River, slowly going up from the spring that the 

 Kid said was a regular drinking place of theirs; the dis- 

 tance, however, was too great for a successful shot. 



The Kid rides ahead, opens the barb-wire gates, and 

 passing through the horse pastm-e the cavalcade, now 

 tired, dusty and hungry, draws up at a little cluster of 

 buildings, "and we are at the H. A. ranch. 



This place was our stopping point for dinner four years 

 befoi'e, and had not changed during that time. On the 

 hillside, facing northward, stands the cook-house, at the 

 foot of the hill is the beaver pond, in which a family or 

 two of thrifty beavers keep in order the dam that we can 

 plainly see in the distance. The pond is formed from an 

 overflow from one of those pure, cold springs occasionally 

 found in that part of the eovmtry, and which we sampled 

 immediately, for we were thirsty and tired, and a drink 

 of clear sparkling water was very grateful. The horses, 

 too, enjoyed it, and after wading through the basin 

 formed by the upper spring, old spiketail took it into 

 his hea,d to visit the horses in the pasture near by, and the 

 result was that it was some ten or fifteen minutes before 

 he was safely tied alongside of the corral, eating his 

 noonday meal. 



They seemed glad to see us at the ranch; the boss, two 

 or three cowboys, and line riders, and last but not least 

 the cook. The cook had a great deal to say; he "al- 

 lowed" there was too much ' "Texas" in the outfit, and if 

 it was not that the pay was mighty good, he would jump 

 the whole thing to-morrow. Notwithstanding his con- 

 tinual grumbling and fault-finding he found time to get 

 up a mighty good meal. He took us out to see two 

 black-polled Angus cows that were his pride and delight. 

 At his request I kodaked him with his "pets," as he 

 called them, one on each side; and later on, I sent him 

 the xJhotograph, and received an acknowledgment and 

 expression of his pleasure. In passing, however, I will 

 say that he had quit the outfit, as he termed it, "Texas 

 was too strong for him," and he was now located at 

 another ranch not quite so far from civilization, and 

 hoped that in another year we would come out that way, 

 and he would keep xis posted as to the best shooting, 

 etc., etc. 



Harrison rummaged through our lunch boxes, and soon 

 a square meal was being devoured by the members of 

 the Saginaw Crowd, After that the antelope was skinned 

 by the Judge, who was ably assisted by Harrison; and 

 taking up its hide and one hindquarter the balance was 

 left with the boys at the ranch. We came very nearly 

 being starved in consequence of this injiidicious proceed- 

 ing, for it was some time after that before we killed 

 enough, to supply our larder. W. B. Meeshon. 



MOOSE IN HARNESS. 



One span of the captured moose mentioned in my letter 

 on "Minnesota Moose and Indians," is now owned and 

 driven by a man in Grafton, N, D. Another is driven 

 single by a liveryman in Emerson, Manitoba. At a recent 

 fair or something of the sort, he was billed to trot against 

 a certain horse. The moose, then three years old, was 

 hooked into a sulky, and HaiTis, being a well-known 

 horseman, was requested to drive him. The headgear 

 with which the moose was provided was simply a halter, 

 to which the reins were attached. Harris insisted on 

 having a bit piit on, but the liveryman said the moose ob- 

 jected; that he was perfectly gentle and tractable in the 

 halter, but that he drew the line on a bit — he wouldn't 

 have it. Harris mounted the sulky, bat had some doubts 

 as to the outcome of the race. 



The bell sounded and the horse and moose started. The 

 latter reached out in a style rarely seen on any race- 

 course, his big, clumsy hindfeet fanning his ear at every 

 stride. At the first quarter post he was more than a 

 length ahead of the horse, and before the half-mile post 

 was reached had doubled this lead. About this time, 

 however, he concluded he wouldd't play and lit out for 

 home, strikuig squarely across the racecourse and the fair 

 grounds for the main entrance. There was a great jam 

 of people, carriages, farm wagons, half-breed cai'ts and 

 the like, but when the moose started for them they stam- 

 peded as if a cyclone were coming their way. The way 

 was cleared and in spite of all the pulling and sawing 

 Harris could do the moose went out of the, grounds and 

 down the main street of the town like a tornado. He 

 headed for his corral, adjoining the livery stable, the 

 gate of which happened to be open, but made a bad shot 

 and caught one wheel of the sulky on a gatepost. He 

 went out of the shafts as if there had been none, went to 

 the other end of the corral and stood looking at his late 

 driver, with his ears thrown forward just as if he scented 

 some one. Harris pulled himself out of the wreck, badly 

 bruised and disfigured, and says that the next time he 

 drives a moose he will put on him the wickedest ring-and- 

 chain bronco bit he can find. 



Still moose do make great rlrivers when properly trained 

 and handled. Their magnificent build, their long, well 

 formed and strongly set legs, their great strength of 

 quarter and loin and then- wonderful limg development 

 give them such power of endurance as no horse can 

 approach. A moose will simply trot all day, over any 

 kind of gi-ound bogs, wind falls or rocks, and scarcely 

 tire. Harris says that one morning in the winter of '90 

 and '91 he started from his ranch, on the Roseau River, 

 to drive to Emerson, a distance of forty miles. Soon 

 after leaving home a bull moose, with only one horn, 

 showed up on the Big Muskeag, trotting west, parallel 

 with the road on which H, was driving, and only half a 

 mile away. Harris had no gun and started out for a 

 race. He put his horse into a run and the moose trotted 

 easily along, keeping well abreast for about ten miles, 

 when he veered ofi: to the south and was soon out of sight. 

 H. went on into Emerson, attended to his business and 

 started home at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. Before he got 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



out of town he saw the same moose COhiing back from 

 the south, still on the trot^ but now with his tongue hang- 

 ing out and thoroughly tired. He bolted into a street of 

 the town and started north. H, tm-ned and drove after 

 him, shouting to the townspeople to turn out and capture 

 him. A hotel man saw him coming, ran in, got a rifle 

 and killed him in front of his house; several farmers 

 coming in from the south, during the next week or two, 

 reported having seen a bull moose with one horn on this 

 same day, some of them having encountered him as much 

 as twenty miles south of Emerson, and all stating that he 

 was on the trot. On figuring it out it was found that the 

 moose had trotted at least ninety miles that day after H. 

 sighted him, and it was not known how far before. 

 Some hunter had doubtless started him away up the 

 Roseau early in the morning, and having enCounteted 

 people at frequent intervals he had been kept in a state of 

 alarm, only to lose his life at the end of his gteat race. 



Nate Ellerton, who lives near the Roseau, in the east 

 end of Kittson county, haa a three-year-old bull moose, a 

 moose calf and an elk calf, all caught in the woods near 

 his farm. The bull has not yet been driven, but has been 

 led and handled aU his life. When I was there the rut- 

 ting season was on. He was kept in a corral and was 

 disposed to be ugl3\ No one, not even his owner, cared 

 to go inside the corral just at that time. 



G. O. Shields. 



Fred Mather's Snipe. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



Fred Mather's pleasant letter in the last number of 

 Forest and Stream, apropos of "spring reed birds," re- 

 called to me an incident that he has undoubtedly for- 

 gotten, but which for various reasons is distinctly 

 impressed on my memory, and furnishes pfoof that a 

 score of years ago Mr. Mather had arrived at that stage, 

 which many sportsmen reach, when One cah derive more 

 satisfaction in observing the habits of birds than he eVer 

 did in shooting them> 



If I mistake not it is nineteen yeats ag'O this fall that 

 I made a visit to Mr. Mather at his residence near Hon- 

 eoye Falls in this comity. 1 had been informed that he 

 was at once a sportsman and the most original and inter- 

 esting resident of the region. It was liromised me 

 furthermore that I could see on his premises some fine 

 trout and grayling, the latter having been introduced 

 in the East from Michigan a year or two before. An 

 old acquaintance of Mr. Mather offered to introduce me 

 to him, and I jumped at the ofl:er, for, to say nothing 

 of the satisfaction a young fellow feels in meeting a 

 fellow-sportsman, a chance to see troutlings in a brook 

 always had a fascination for me not easj' to explain. 



We reached Mr. Mather's house, and when informed 

 that the stranger had a weakness for shooting and fish- 

 ing, the host lost no time in making him welcome and 

 revealing for his entertainment every feature that could 

 interest one of the fraternity. I well remember the 

 trout and grayling that were basking in the pohd estab- 

 lished on the spring creek that had its ot-igin on the 

 farm. Thei-e was also shown to the visitors some odd 

 examples iUustratiV^e of the taxidermlc skill possessed 

 by the master of the house. But rarest of all was the 

 couple of half-domesticated Wilson snipe that were so- 

 journing on a little x^iece of bog along the border of the 

 brook. They had been there, Mr. Mather said, for sev- 

 eral days and had become so accustomed to his presence 

 that they did not resort to the usual practice of their 

 kind on the approach of man and flit to fresh fields. 



I wonder does your Cold Spring Harbor correspondent 

 remember those birds? Whether he does or not the facts 

 I state show that while Mr, Mather now allows himself, 

 like the rest of us, to shoot snipe, there are circumstances 

 under which nothing could induce him to draw a trigger 

 on one of the brown beauties. E. R. 



Rochester, N. Y., Oct. 4. 



P. S. to the Editor: There is so little game left in this 

 vicinity that in order to find a subject to scribble about 

 one is forced to fall back on- reminiscences, and Fred 

 Mather's letter called up the above. E. R. 



Questions About Birds. 



Editor Forest and Stream: 



You know the black and white red-headed woodpecker, 

 sometimes called "flicker." Well, he is a tough one; in 

 other words, a bird of extraordinary vitality. 1 think no 

 one ought to shoot him, but whoever has done so knows 

 that he does not yield up. his life as readily as most birds 

 of his size do. He seems to be peculiar in another respect. 

 During my life of forty-two years at Highland, on the 

 Hudson, I never saw one of these birds in the vicinity of 

 the river, but six or eight miles back they were numerous. 

 As to a theory in regard to this fact I have none. 



In the winter of '74 or '75 there appeared in Highland 

 birds whose species were unknown to the inhabitants. 

 The birds were gregarious and in size equal to the robin. 

 The most of them were of a russet gray 'color, not at all 

 pleasing, yet well formed. Occasionally there was one of 

 delicate pinkish hue and altogether pi-etty. I was re- 

 minded of the carp, of which, while the majority of them 

 are unattractive in color, a few are gorgeouslj^ golden. It 

 is rightly expressed to say the people were puzzled, and 

 not altogether on account of the novelty, but also because 

 of their tameness, comparable almost to that which 

 ' 'shocked" the sensibilities of Selkirk on the island of Juan 

 Fernandez. One could almost put the hand upon them. 

 When one was caught it would at once eat from the hand. 

 Some thought the cold, which was intense, so benumbed 

 them as to render them thus fearless, but I do not think 

 so. Mr. Editor, if you have any idea what kind of birds 

 they were and where they came from, I should be pleased 

 to heai- from you. 



A few years before this I had become quite interested 

 in taxidermy, and seeing a flock of birds about the size of 

 sparrows on the snow, I shot into the flock and killed 

 three. They were almost as white as the snow on which 

 they were disporting. Before I shot among them I saw 

 that they were unlike the ordinary snow bird. Theu' rise 

 on wing from the ground even when undisturbed was so 

 sudden and simultaneous as to excite wonder and admira- 

 tion. What kmd of birds they were I could never tell. 



N. D. Elting. 



[The tame birds were undoubtedly pine grosbeaks 

 (Pyrrhula emideator), bii'ds which have a northern dis- 

 tribution and which appear pretty regularly in winter in 

 New England and northern New York. The white birds 

 were snowflakes or snow buntings, also northern birds, 

 seen hereabouts occasionally in winter,] 



[Oct. 14, 1893. 



— t — 



A White Rattlesnake. 



Beatrice, Neb,, Sept. 29.— A white rattlesnake was 

 captured last week about twelve miles east of Beatrice. 

 It is exactly like the common black prairie rattler except 

 for the color. The body color was a lustreless, chalk 

 white, and the diamond spots or markings were a pale 

 ochre. It was exhibited alive in a store window for sev- 

 eral days and attracted a great deal of attention. It was 

 about 24in. long, had six rattles and a button and seemed 

 to be in good health so far as outward indications went. 

 One noticeable thing about the little serpent was the 

 color of the eyes. In most albinos the eyes are pink, but 

 in this snake they are the same colol- as the body, a dead 

 chalk white, not" gray but white. It is the first instanbti 

 of the kind w-hich has ever been Under My ndtice during 

 a residence of twenty-five years ifi the bdunti-y west Hf 

 Missouri River, and I am ihclined to think it is one of 

 those incomprehensible freaks of nature where she re- 

 verses the condition of things in an individual. 



If it were an insect the color would be more easily 

 explained. Take the common grasshopper, for instance, 

 in this section of black soil and luxuriant vegetable 

 growth their color corresponds to the color of tlie grass 

 and lea.ves. In the sandhills they are almost exactly the 

 color of the sand. In the Wyoming clay beds they mimic 

 the color there, and in the red earth district of the Black ■ 

 HiUs of Dakota, near Sundance Mountain, they are the 

 color of the soil there. Do they, like the tree frogs and 

 lizai-ds, possess the faculty of changing their color to suit 

 the surroundings, or are those of a color found only in 

 that locality, and are they a species by themselves? 



All the birds except bluejays have left this section for 

 the south. A few meadow larks still remain, and a fe\v 

 woodpeckei-s, including the golden and the "sapsuckeri" 

 both of wliich rerllaiti hel'e all wihter in bomi^any wit 11 

 the robins And sduie of the titmoiise family. Of lute , 

 yeats I hotice hhmerous specimens of different speciis 

 which were almost entirely unknown ten yeai-s ago. 

 among them the butcher bird, Virginia rail, woodcock 

 and bobolink. El Comangho. 



[Different individuals of the same species of insects may 

 assume dift'erent colors, the variation being caused by the 

 food and the surroundings, just as trout are vari-colored 

 in dilferent waters. Some reptiles, too, vary greatly iti ) 

 coloring, the tree frogs— as suggested— and the chamel- 

 eons being well known for their power of voluntarily 

 changing color. Others, like some snakes and lizards, 

 without seeming to have the power of changing color at 

 will, take more or less the color of their surroundings. In > 

 the red triassic beds of Wyoming we have seen horned 

 toads (Phrynasoma) which were nearly as red as the soil , 

 on which they lived.] 



tHE ADIRONDACK "CARIBOU." 



Seven years ago Forest and Stream printed sundry 

 notes on the killing of a peculiar deer at Long Lake in 

 the Adirondacks. This deer was generally called a cai i- 

 bou, but a valued correspondent j)ut it on record as his ' 

 view that it was an elk. The matter, though of consider- 

 able interest, was not definitely settled at the time, and it' 

 is only recently that conclusive evidence has been re- 

 ceived with regard to this strange animal At the time, 

 no doubt, most readers believed it to be a common Vir- 

 ginia deer which, by reason of some abnormal horn de- 

 velojiment or pecuUarities of color and marking had been 

 given the name of another species. It was not such, 

 however, and the following notes, some of them bearing 

 directly on the so-called "caribou," and some only indi- 

 rectly or not at all, may be of interest on account of their 

 general reference to the big deer of the Adirondacks, as 

 well as of clearing up the "caribou" matter. 



The Long Lake "caribou" was killed about the first of 

 November, 1886, by Charles 0, Robinson, of Long Lake 

 Village, its tracks had been seen in the snow by a atdU 

 hunter in an upland pasture west of Long Lake, but he 

 had been unsuccessful in getting a shot. He related what 

 he had seen, together with some peculiarities Which at- 

 tracted his attention. The animal had footed with its 

 nose to get at food under the snow instead of pawing it 

 away. He did not, however, apparently notice any pe^ 

 culiarity of track beyond the fact that it was a large one. 



Robinson on hearing the story decided that the tracks 

 had been made by a woimded deer, and formed a hunting 

 party for its capture. In the party were two of his 

 brothers and R. J. Peck, all of Long Lake. The object 

 of the hunters was to drive the deer into Clear Pond which 

 lies about one mile west of Long Lake. This pond is. 

 nearly as wide as it is long, and is about two milt s in 

 diameter. It is fed by moimtain streams and springs and 

 the water is very clear. There are a number of shoals in 

 the lake and several points project a considerable dis- 

 tance. 



The hunt began on a Tuesday. The strange deer was 

 easily started, but it displayed none of the characteristics 

 of the common deer. It repeatedly back tracked and did 

 not seem to mind the dogs a great deal. Though it was 

 seen several times trotting througii the shallow water 

 near shore, it would not enter the deep water and swim 

 like an ordinary deer. "He would trot ahead of a swift 

 hound" to quote Robinson, "and cleared from 8 to lOfb. 

 between steps. " No amount of pushing would make the 

 strange deer change his gait. 



The first day's hunt terminated imsuccessfuUy, so fai- 

 as the hunters were concerned. The following day, hovv- 

 ever, they were on the ground again. Robinson put two 

 hoxmds on him Wednesday, and after a run of three 

 hours succeeded in wounding and finally in killing the 

 deer as he was trotting along the shore of the pond. 



It was not till theji, so the party assert, that they 

 realized the fact that the animal was not a common deer. 

 Gazing at its dead body they observed Uiat it was a brown 

 color growing lighter toward the hips, that its tail was 

 short and stumpy and that its horns were very unlike 

 what they were accustomed to see on ordinary buck deer. 

 In speaking afterward of the occurrence, one of the Robin- 

 son brothers said that had they known that the deer wa.s 

 what it proved to be, they would not have killed it. 



The animal was very poor and its flesh was dark and 

 rank. None of the party coidd eat the flesh. The deer, 

 butchered, weighed 3301h3. This was not estimated, but 

 ascertained by actual weighing. Previous to the stiU- 

 hunter's experience, no one, so far as was known, had 

 seen signs of this particular animal, though this might be 



