290. 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[April 7, 1894. 



JAGUARS IN HONDURAS. 



I'll be shot if I know just how to take the confounded 

 tigers," said Pense, as he handed his cup for a second in- 

 stalment of hot coffee. "I've seen a few jaguars, and 

 I've heard the Waikas and the Payas tell yarns about 

 others, but the brute I had an interview with on that 

 arroyo running into the Oro, up here a little ways, beat 

 me completely. 



"I was following up the arroyo when I came to a place 

 where it was choked to the top of the banks with big 

 boulders. I thought that it would be easier to climb out 

 of the ravine and go around than it would be to clamber 

 up those smooth stones, so up I went out of the ditch. 

 The woods were open enough there. Well, sir, the 

 minute I put foot on the top of that bank I was looking 

 square into the eyes of the biggest tiger I ever saw." 



"Of course. Each tiger is the biggest ever seen." 



"Oh, I know that," replied Pense good humoredly. 

 "I've said the same, many a time, when others have been 

 telling their tiger yarns. So I'll take it all back. The 

 fellow I was staring: at, and that was staring at me, wasn't 

 really a big one. To confess the honest truth, I don't 

 believe that he was bigger than an elephant; but it is the 

 solemn truth, he looked as big as a church — he looked to 

 me bigger then than all the rest of outdoors. 



"That fellow just lay there in the sunshine and blinked, 

 actually blinked, as much as to say, 'Come, here's a nice 

 warm spot and I've had a good dinner. Come and lie 

 down here and we'll take a little nap.' He had a waree's 

 head and bones beside him, so I knew what the matter 

 was. 



"At first I was fairly paralyzed at seeing him lying 

 there in the sunshine that made the yellow spots among 

 the black of his sleek hide look like big nuggets of gold 

 set in black lava, only his coat shone more than lava 

 shines. His tail lay curled around beside him, still except 

 the tip end, and that bent a little, slowly. It was plain 

 enough at a glance that he had stuffed himself as full as 

 a tick, and was too sleepy and good humored to care a 

 darn for anything or anybody. 



"Well, it was a curious chance to see a menagerie, and 

 after I'd looked at it may be two minutes I began to think 

 that it might be really a free show for me after all. So I 

 thought that I'd back down into the arroyo and skin out 

 to where I left my gun and things, same as we all do 

 just when we are going to run our noses into some place 

 where we'll want our shooters. Then that blasted tiger 

 shut both eyes for a moment, then half opened them and 

 shut them again. He was too sleepy to care. 



ft 'Well, I'll be hanged,' says I to myself. 'Have I 

 tramped through these woods and tramped up that rocky 

 quebrada to be stopped and insulted in this way? I'll 

 have that chap out of there or know the reason why.' So 

 I looked out a good place to jump for in case of trouble, 

 and then gave a big yell. Going to scare him out of that, 

 you know. His eyes popped open, but he didn't scare 

 worth a cent. • 



" 'I'll try a stone or two, and see how you'll like that,' 

 says I. I grew bolder, you see, when I saw that he was 

 too lazy to move. So I slipped down into the gully and 

 tossed half a dozen stones up to the top of the bank and 

 followed them myself. I pitched three or four of the 

 stones over the bushes to where the tiger lay, but was 

 careful to keep out of his sight. I waited half a minute, 

 then peeped through the leaves. There that lazy beggar 

 lay, in the same place, but his eyes were open. 



"Maybe you know, some of you, how many different 

 kinds of a darned fool a man can be. I haven't found out 

 all of them yet, and don't expect to. What the dickens 

 ossessed me I don't know — maybe it was the sleepy, 

 on't-care way he acted, but I ought to have known bet- 

 ter, for his eyes were shining green, and his tail was 

 straightened out, all but the tip end, and was waving over 

 the wet leaves behind him; and his ears were cocked a 

 little toward where I stood. Like a fool I chucked a stone 

 at him. 



"The next moment I was skinning out of that. I just 

 flew down the quebrada, but how I ever got to the place 

 where my gun was I'll be blessed if I can tell. It would 

 break any man's neck to run over those smooth and loose 

 stones, when he took care how he went. But I got my 

 rifle, and of course didn't care then how quick he came; 

 but he didn't show up. So I went on up the arroyo again, 

 and climbed out to look for him in the old place; but he 

 wasn't there. I saw no sign of him after that. I wonder 

 what he thought of the impudence of the two-legged 

 brute that wouldn't leave him in quiet to enjoy his 

 siesta. 



"What I've been wondering ever since is: How many 

 times out of a hundred can a man fool around black tigers 

 in these woods, and stand and yell at 'em, and chuck 

 stones in their faces like a blasted idiot, without getting 

 scratched. Why, it gives the coffee in my cup a chill 

 when I sit here and think of that interview I had with his 

 royal nibs in his bedroom." 



Captain Brown lit his cigar, tilted his chair on its hind- 

 legs, and swung it around until his elbow could rest com- 

 fortably on the table. 



"You see that jaguars can be quite good-natured. In 

 fact, I have known them to be quite sociable in their 

 way, and to show considerable interest in people. I re- 

 member, for instance, a time when I took the short cut 

 over the mountain between Concordia and Guaymaca. 

 "Twas late when I started, and night was near by the 

 time I rode out of the green montes on the top of the 

 range. I thought little of that, however, until my mule 

 snorted and wheeled in the trail. I stopped her and 

 turned her nose down hill again; then I saw in the dim 

 light a long, slender form beside the trail and not more 

 than 10yds. away. 



"I pulled my pistol and dug my spurs into the flanks of 

 my mule; I spoke to her and she started forward, for she 

 was brave and had great confidence in me. We've 

 known each other intimately for five or six years, and 

 have pulled each other out of more than one scrape. 



"The jaguar trotted off 10 or 15yds., when it heard my 

 voice and saw us start on down the trail. The moon rose 

 just then, and we could see the cat quite plainly. It 

 trotted along quietly over the pine leaves that covered 

 the ground, keeping about a rod or perhaps two from the 

 trail. When it found it was" f orereaching on us it would 



stop and wait until we came nearly abreast; then it would 

 start down the hillside again. 



"Some way I didn't shoot at first, possibly because I was 

 giving attention to my mule. And then I thought that, 

 as I was safe enough with my pistol in hand, I'd see what 

 the brute would do. So we* jogged along, Dolly and I, 

 studying natural history when it was natural. Dolly did 

 jerk her tail once in a while, and snap her jaws on the 

 bit, but she made no other sign to show that she was not 

 quits contented with the condition of affairs. 



"We three went three or four miles in that way. Then 

 the cat stopped in a patch of moonlight that seemed as 

 bright as day — you all know how wonderfully plainly 

 the moonlight here shows everything it falls upon — and 

 turned her head toward us, as much as to say: 'Hear 

 those dogs! What do you think about them?' 



"Old Don Pablo's dogs had heard us coming, and were 

 making the usual racket. I rode along, and when we 

 were abreast of the tiger it started down the hill again, as 

 though it had come to the conclusion that it would be safe 

 to go on, if I was ready to face the dogs. 



"The voice of the dogs came ringing up from the valley 

 again, and seemed nearer than before. The tiger stopped 

 again, gazed at the valley where the dogs were, looked at 

 me for a moment, and slowly turned and walked up the 

 hillside. I put the revolver hook in my belt. There was 

 nothing near that I wished to shoot." 



"I was on a tramp through the woods of the Uampu, 

 one day," said Peritara, in quiet, reminiscent tones. 

 "There had been a light rain, most of the afternoon, and 

 the newly made trail I was traveling was wet. I saw the 

 fresh tracks of a tiger in the sand beside a creek which I 

 forded, and came across it two or three tim< j s afterward 

 when I crossed the stream, which I had to do often, be- 

 cause the trail followed the little valley for several miles. 



"This fellow was keeping company with me, I knew, 

 but it did not trouble me any, because I knew that tigers 

 hereabout often do that, from curiosity, probably. But 

 toward night I began to wish that the brute would either 

 quit my trail or give me a shot at him or her. It may be 

 well enough to jog along with a tiger beside you, by day- 

 light; but one is likely to feel some distrust of such a 

 neighbor in the darkness — especially when he has never 

 been properly introduced. 



"At last I came to where the trail ran down a steep clay 

 bank, and near the foot of the incline I saw the two roofs 

 of leaves that the men had slept under when at work cut- 

 ting the trail, a week or two before. And in the clay of 

 the hillside I also saw eight or ten footprints, each as big 

 as my hand, left by the tiger. The water running down 

 the hill had not yet filled the imprints — so I knew that 

 they had been made less than a minute before I saw them. 



"Night was near, so I hurried to make a fire. I felt 

 that I wanted a good Are that night, as much as I ever 

 wanted a fire in my life. Not that it was likely to bo cold, 

 but I had a turkey on my back, that I had killed that day, 

 and roasted turkey would be good to eat. But everything 

 was dripping wet, except, perhaps, the under side of those 

 roofs of leaves, and I had hard work to start a fire. 

 Again and again did the leaves and bark burn out and 

 leave unburnt the splinters which I had split from the 

 charred sticks I found on the ashes of the old camp fires. 

 I began to fear that my matches would give out, and then 

 I would be uncomfortable, for raw turkey is not really 

 good food for man; and I would not like to be suddenly 

 called upon in the night to welcome a neighbor whom I 

 had never seen, to a house in which there was no cheerful 

 blaze. 



"But at last the fire blazed up brightly, and lit all the 

 dripping trees about. I cut a goodly pile of branches 

 from a dead tree that had been cut down near the camp, 

 and then I squatted beside the bed of coals and roasted 

 part of my turkey. I threw the bones out on the trail 

 where I could plainly see any animal that might come to 

 get them. 



"Then I put on more wood, spread my hammock on the 

 dry spot under the leafy roof, put my blankets in the 

 hammock and sat down to wait for the coming of dawn. 

 After a while I thought that it would be more comforta- 

 ble to lie down to watch than it would be to squat there 

 all nights — and it was then only 8 o'clock. So I piled on 

 more wood and lay down to w T atch those bones. 



"It was broad and sunny daylight when I saw the 

 place where the bones of the turkey were thrown. They 

 were gone, but the tiger had left tracks there. I don't 

 know that I ever saw him, or her." 



"That reminds me of a trip I made across the moun- 

 tains, from Culmi to San Estaban," said another of our 

 party. "The region is pretty wild, for there is only one 

 house in the whole thirty miles, and it is green forest all 

 the way, with rather rough hills, tumbling streams in 

 wild quebradas, and tangled thickets — a place that 

 would make the true hunter's heart laugh. We lost 

 time in getting away from our friends in Culmi, and 

 sunset was near when we reached the bank of a creek 

 where our Paya guide pointed to some tracks in the 

 sand. 'Tigre negro, sefiores,' said he, in quiet tones. 



"I was new to the country and the people in those 

 days, and his manner and voice were so quiet that I 

 thought that he might be trying to scare us, and when 

 he proposed that we should go into camp within five 

 rods of those tracks, I felt sure that he was fooling us. 

 So when our mules had been picketed where they could 

 reach some gamelote, I went back and examined the 

 sandy borders of the stream. Sure enough, the foot- 

 prints were those of some big cat. They looked to me 

 like those of the mountain lion, but the Paya said: 'Lion 

 here, too, but he is gone long time.' 



The next morning I examined the bank of the creek 

 where we had crossed it, and also where we crossed it 

 again after leaving camp, and not five rods from our 

 camp-fire. There were scores of footprints in each 

 of the places. Our beasts snorted once or twice in the 

 night, and one of the horses squealed and let fly with his 

 heels, but there was not a scratch on any of them in the 

 morning. 



' 'Not one of us got a glimpse of tiger or of mountain 

 lion that trip, although we feel quite certain that one or 

 more followed us for miles through the thick woods. I 

 have learned since that they are almost sure to skulk 

 along beside travelers in the woods, sometimes for days, 

 seemingly from curiosity, merely. We all know that 

 they seldom actually attack a human being." 



D. E. Veras. 



Amiable Wolves. 



Vinton, Iowa. — There are always prairie wolves here, 

 and sometimes a gray wolf is seen in the timber along the 

 Cedar Eiver. Last winter a wood hauler was coming up 

 the river, when he was startled by seeing two wolves run 

 up and trot along, one on either side of his team. The 

 only weapon the man had was an axe, and several times 

 he struck at the wolves. When he did so the wolves 

 would spring to one side, and then work back close to the 

 sled. After they had followed along in this way for a few 

 minubes they trotted off into the timber. They may have 

 been the same jolly pair that a man saw afterward trotting 

 along beside his team just the other side of the road fence. 

 They acted so friendly like that the man stopped his team 

 and walked up to the fence with his whip in his hand. 

 The waives stood still and looked at him until he cracked 

 his whip at them and almost reached them, when they 

 jumped back and sat down. Soon they moved up nearer 

 the man , and he snapped his whip at them again, and 

 again they jumped back, and went through their former 

 movements until the man became tired of it. The wolves 

 seemed to think it was great fun. 



These wolves were better natured than a timber wolf 

 that was seen by a wood chopper at Fish Lake, eight miles 

 north of this place. The man was on his sled, and was 

 surprised to see a big, ugly-looking fellow walk past him, 

 seemingly paying no attention to him, as much as to say, 

 ' 'I am minding my own business and I expect you to do 

 the same." After the man had gotten somewhat over his 

 surprise, he thought that he would at least hurry that 

 wolf a little; so, seizing his axe, he sprang from the sled 

 and started for the beast, but the wolf wheeled around 

 and opened his jaws, and snarled and looked so hostile 

 that the man could not tumble over himself fast enough 

 in his endeavor to get back on to the sled. After the wolf 

 had got good and ready he turned to walk away again. 

 The man scratched his head and concluded that he and 

 the axe ought to be enough for one wolf, so again he 

 jumped from the sled and ran to overtake the fellow; but 

 the timber prowler wheeled again and with savage snarls 

 started to meet the man half way, and again the man let 

 no snow melt under his feet while getting on to his sled, 

 which he concluded — and wisely, too — was the best place 

 for him, while the surly wolf took his time and disappeared 

 in the woods. 



These incidents remind me of a good and true wolf ex- 

 perience connected with a sportsman of this place, but I 

 am a litte touchy about relating it, because 1 do not wish 

 to be called a Mt. Tom. 



Mountain Sheep Horns. 



Worcester, Mass., March 31.— Editor Forest and 

 Stream: I have hunted mountain sheep wherever they 

 are to be found on the American continent. I have a 

 head with horns on which I killed that measure 17iin. 

 at the base and are 42in. long. I believe this to be the 

 largest set of horns that can be produced in this country. 

 Like "Mountaineer," I have on my hunts often heard of 

 these 20 and 23in. horns, and have left offers of bis: 

 money with guides to let me know when they get one 

 larger than mine. I have never heard from them. 



A. B. F. Kinney. 



An Albino Fox. 



Worcester, Mass., March 29. — Albino is getting to be 

 quite the fashion in almost everything this season. I 

 think I have got the best yet. My brother sent me last 

 week from Conticook, P. Q., which is close to the Ver- 

 mont line, an albino fox skin. It is not an arctic fox, but 

 a real red fox, perfectly white. A. B. F. Kinney. 



§ag mid (§tttf. 



ON THE LOWER POTOMAC. 



During the Christmas holidays "Billy" Hofer and I 

 made a trip on the steamer T. V. Arrowsmith around the 

 mouth of the Potomac Paver. We started about 3 in the 

 afternoon, and almost before we were away from the 

 wharf we saw a flock of about fifty ducks. When we 

 were a little way below Alexandria we saw another flock, 

 this one having nearly seventy -five duoKs. They were 

 too far off for us to tell what they were, but from flight 

 and general appearance they seemed to be teal. We were 

 in the pilot house at the time and the quartermaster, who 

 was at the wheel, said it was rather unusual of late years 

 to see many ducks so near Washington. 



The steamer is the old Arrowsmith, of New York Har- 

 bor, She is almost entirely made over and has lost much 

 of her former speed, but she can still do fourteen knots 

 an hour under favorable conditions. The dining saloon 

 is on the main deck and has windows all the way around, 

 so that you miss none of the sights while eating. This 

 is a great advantage, as every inch of the way between 

 Washington and the mouth of the river is interesting. 



About an hour after seeing the flock of teal our atten- 

 tion was attracted to the continuous flight of crows across 

 the river toward the Virginia side. There must have 

 been many thousands in sight, all the time from about 4 

 to 5 P. M. On asking the pilot about them he said that 

 thousands of them leave their roosting place, a "rook- 

 ery" back of Alexandria, every morning at sunrise, and 

 go up toward Baltimore to feed. There they spend the 

 day and return at sundown to the rookery, which they 

 have occupied for many years. 



Late in the afternoon we began to sight occasional 

 bunches of ducks, whistlewings and waterwitches most 

 of them, and just before sunset we saw a flock of about 

 150 ducks. By the time we passed Mount Vernon it was 

 quite dark, so we were unable to see a flock of geese, 

 which we heard honking right under the shores of Wash- 

 ington's home. 



The first landing made after leaving Alexandria was at 

 Colonial Beach, a recent but flourishing summer resort. 

 Billy and I had just gone to bed, and as the noise made 

 by the deck hands in shifting cargo was great, we lost 

 our first nap and got into a talkative mood, which served 

 to keep us awake till we made the next landing and took 

 aboard a man who was also in a talkative mood, and as he 

 had a penetrating voice he kept every one on the boat 

 from going to sleep for a couple of hours. Still there was 

 some compensation, for when he got throngh talking the 

 whole boat knew everything about everybody who lived 

 on the river from Hunting Creek to Chesapeake Bay, 



