Junes 2, 1894.] 



FOREST AND S'l REAM. 



465 



as a place where the weather is cold; there is an idea that 

 Greenlandis a dreary land, where there is little amusement 

 except dodging polar bears, where no one enter except 

 persons who desire to reach the North Pole, and where no 

 one lives except Eskimo. Moreover, the prevalent idea is 

 that Greenland is a far way's off, and only those who take 

 one's life in one's own hands can reach the North Pole. 



These opinions are altogether wrong. It was my good 

 fortune to be connected with the Peary expedition in 

 1891 and '92 as surgeon and ethnologist to the party. I 

 studied the resources of the land very carefully, and last 

 summer I again went north in an ordinary schooner 

 yacht, cruising along the coast of Greenland for three 

 months. Our vessel was not fitted for ice work, but we 

 cruised along those icy shores and returned within three 

 months, having had a most delightful trip. The present 

 expedition is the outcome of my experience with the first 

 Peary expedition and the cruise of last summer. I am 

 also organizing an expedition to spend a winter below the 

 Antarctic circle; perhaps we are going to find the South 

 Pole. First, however, 1 am going to demonstrate to every 

 one what a capital place Greenland and the Arctic shores 

 in general are as a summer resort. Soon after we cross 

 the Arctic circle we will be involved in a period of con- 

 stant day, where the sun hangs low upon the northern 

 horizon at midnight, and a little higher in the southern 

 skies at midday. I admit that sometimes in the winter, 

 when the sun disappears entirely, that the weather is a 

 trifle chilly and occasionally uncomfortable; but during 

 the summer the air is soft and warm, for there is no night 

 to cool it. Indeed, I know of no region in the world that 

 possesses more actual beauties or contains the elements 

 that are so productive of health, or a climate so whole- 

 some and delightful as that of the Arctic during the 

 summer. 



To sportsmen Greenland is a country to rejoice in. If 

 he cares for big game, there are polar bears, reindeer, 

 white whale and walrus. I have never hunted tigers, 

 but I don't believe that any moment in the pursuit of a 

 cat can be more thrilling than the moment when a hun- 

 dred walrus, barking with rage, each weighing a ton or 

 more, each equipped with big white tusks, are charging 

 all together on the small boat in which you are sitting 

 with your rifle ready to fight them. And for beauty of 

 coloring, Greenland scenery is unsurpassed. Icaagine 

 a promontory of rock 3,000ft. high rising out of the middle 

 of a white glacier. Its facade at the base is mottled with 

 patches of red lichen and green grass and the gray of the 

 stone. Up near' the top of the cliff the patches blend. 

 You canot see their outlines; you catch only an impres- 

 sion of exquisite tints, always changing as the sun moves 

 and casta the shadows differently. There are thousands 

 of such rocks in Greenland. 



The indications are that in the near future summer 

 hotels will be built on the Arctic shores, the region which 

 Dr. Hayes described as the "Land of Desolation." The 

 barren Arctic wastes to which Dr. Kane added so much 

 romance and the icy shores where the Franklin expedi- 

 tion perished, and Greely's expedition came to grief, will 

 all be opened to summer tourists and sportsmen, scientists 

 and artists. By the aid of modern improvement in navi- 

 gation, our past experience, and perfected foods, the 

 imaginary dangers of the Arctic seas must vanish. 



Frederick A. Cook. 



15 Hart Street, Brooklyn, N. Y. 



A Little Essay on Trees. 



We all love trees; they add to the beauty and value of 

 a home, a city and a State. I cannot imagine what my 

 boyhood would have been without them. Many were 

 the battles we waged from eherry trees. The apple and 

 the chestnut filled our pockets and kept us roaming over 

 fields and forests. We prized the horse chestnut because 

 it was so big, and seemed in our bursting pockets like 

 owning so much. What merry days we passed among 

 the sugar maples. It was a pine tree into whose shelter- 

 ing branches I climbed when pursued by savage blood- 

 hounds, escaped from confinement. The story of Swiss 

 Family Robinson who lived in a tree, became very real to 

 me, as also many other adventures during the ten or 

 twelve hours I was perched up on the old pine tree 

 branches. 



I never can forget my visits into Delaware, during the 

 peach season. The exquisite aroma of the plums, peaches 

 and other fruits make those boyhood sunny days seem 

 extra sweet. And the balsam gum — how we hunted it ; 

 what quantities we found, and how incessantly we chewed 

 it to a pinky elasticity. Swap gum? Yes, many is the 

 friendship sealed by swapping gum. We peeled the 

 white birch bark and stopped a while our restless feet as 

 we carefully penciled on its smooth surface a love 

 message. I wish I could see those white trees now; I 

 wonder what has become of all the girls whose names 

 and initials we carved deep through the many white 

 layers to the living green. How nicely the hemlock 

 bark peeled off, and what a splendid roof it made on our 

 hut when camping out. Could anything be nicer than 

 the sassafras and slippery elm; we always carried a supply 

 in our pockets with fish hooks, worms, knives, sweet 

 fern and corn silk for smoking, and other necessities. 

 We always had an appetite for the mayapple (tamarind) 

 and wintergreen when we found them ; and as for the 

 wild strawberry, long, oval and sweet to taste and smell, 

 we lay on the moss and ate, and ate, and ate. Climbing 

 trees after birds, nests, storming hornets' nests and peering 

 down black trunk hollow for hidden treasures or per- 

 chance a squirrel family, were a constant delight. 



Tell me you can bring up boys and girls without trees? 

 Impossible. Why, the tree of the field is a boy's life. 

 Give them trees. Let them plant them, climb them, love 

 them. There are tongues in trees, and they will sing you 

 the sweetest song on earth. They will draw out your 

 soul and whisper joy, gladness and purity to you. such 

 that you can feel but not express. They will be true to 

 you, and when your sorrow is beyond their healing 

 Bympathy will point you upward to their creator. Don't 

 let the boys and girls grow up without trees. In season 

 urge them to plant trees. Help and urge tliem on, and 

 when their youth is gone and dull care, sickness, sorrow, 

 avarice for wealth and the world's greedy self have taken 

 away much of the zest and poetry of living, their thoughts 

 will revert to boyhood days, and through the nights a tree- 

 top anthem will be borne to them, carrying sweet 

 melodies of childhood days and memories of long ago. - 



W. Goodrich Jones, 



y»MFi* Texaa. 



A COW-PUNCHERS' BALL. 



Fifteen years ago one of the most uninhabited regions 

 of the United States was along the north side of the North 

 Platte River in western Nebraska and Wyoming to the 

 headwaters in North Park, Col., near the Continental 

 Divide, a distance of over 600 miles. 



The Platte will ever be identified with the history and 

 development of the great West, Northwest and Pacific 

 Slope. The old California road runs along its banks for 

 hundreds of miles, by the famous landmarks like Court- 

 house Rock and Chimney Rock, while further up on the 

 Sweetwater are the renowned Independence Rock and 

 Devil's Gate. The earliest settlers traveled by this road, 

 the pioneers of the once Great American Desert, leaving 

 many lonely graves behind them, the result of hardship 

 and Indian fights. The Mormons followed it as their 

 guide to the land of Zion, at last finding peace and plenty 

 by the far away Salt Lake. 



In this country the. hardy trapper and hunter found 

 game enough to satisfy the wildest imagination: and ran 

 great risks of falling into the hands of the wily Sioux, 

 who were lords and masters, as they thought, of that vast 

 domain. Great herds of buffalo roamed over the vast 

 plains grazing on the luxurious grass by hundreds and 

 thousands. Wild horses ran at will in droves with the 

 freedom of unconquered kings, as they were. Thousands 

 of antelope fed on the rich grass. Deer and elk roamed 

 in the foothills and mountains in great herds. During the 

 spring and fall the river was covered by millions of wild 

 duck, geese, cranes, swan and all kinds of birds of the 

 feathery kingdom/- Bear, mountain lion, wolves, coyotes, 

 panthers, wildcats and beaver sported by the banks of the 

 great river. The Sioux and Pawnee fought each other for 

 the supremacy of this land of abundance. The mighty 

 Sioux could lay claim to it only after nearly exterminating 

 the entire Pawnee tribe, and only to find himself facing 

 a new and unconquerable foe — the white man. Soldiers 

 fought hard battles here, and many a boy in blue saw his 

 last sunset over the glorius mountains in the west. 



In 1880 the Sioux was gone, and the buffalo, with the 

 exception of here and there a straggler, was extermin- 

 ated. But in their place roamed thousands of cattle 

 almost as wild as the Indians and buffaloes had been before 

 them. The entire country was a vast continuous pasture, 

 bounded on the west by the Rockies, on the east by the 

 settlements of eastern Nebraska, on the north by the Big 

 Horn Mountains, and on the south we might say by the 

 Union Pacific Railroad an d Gulf of Mexico. Cattle strayed 

 for hundreds of miles during the winter, drifting with the 

 storms, to be caught by the cowboy a nd driven back to the 

 home range in the spring. 



The Indian and buffalo were gone; but there remained 

 the same picturesque and sometimes monotonous wildness. 

 There were no farms— nothing but ranches, thirty, fifty, 

 sometimes a hundred, miles apart. Forts Laramie and 

 Fetterman were the only places where any number of 

 people dwelt together; and here they were mostly soldiers 

 and Government employes. 



Many immigrants used the road up the Platte to Mon- 

 tana, Idaho, Oregon and Washington. They were mostly 

 from Kansas, Missouri, Iowa and Southwestern States. 

 We would often see from one to twenty prairie schooners, 

 with horses, cattle and all the implements to run a farm ; 

 some even carried pigs and chickens fastened in coops 

 under the wagon boxes. 



We were on our home journey from a round-up below 

 Camp Clarke in Nebraska in August, having been on a 

 calf round-up, when we met a large party of these 

 wandering home seekers, most of the party coming from 

 Kansas and M ; ssouri. They camped that night about a 

 quarter of a mile above us, and two miles east of old 

 Camp Clark and Sidney bridge. It was an exceptionally 

 large train, and some of us rode to their camp to exchange 

 a few words. The party consisted of about sixty men, 

 women and children, eighteen wagons, 800 cattle and 

 nearly 100 horses. They had some blooded stock, buggies 

 and light wagons, which showed that they were well-to- 

 do for people traveling in prairie schooners. After ex- 

 changing salutations we were invited to dismount and 

 make ourselves at home. 



We did not fail to notice nine or ten pretty young girls, 

 of between 14 and 23. In those days a cow-puncher was 

 a very bashful man in the presence of women, his isola- 

 tion from civilization being the natural cause; and most 

 of our conversation was with the men, about the country, 

 the roads, camping places and best places to get wood and 

 water. But natural curiosity soon brought us all together. 

 A young farmer produced a fiddle and set to playing the 

 familiar strains of the "Arkansaw Traveler," when one of 

 the boys proposed a dance in the evening. 



"Where can we dance? Where is the hall?" chimed in 

 one of the girls. He replied that the prairie was very 

 level and square dances could be managed, if not round 

 ones. The moon, stars and camp-fires would answer for 

 lights, the fiddles and mouth harps for music. 



At that time a great many of the boys were fine per- 

 formers with the mouth harp; and often in the evening, 

 while we were sitting around the camp-fire some one- 

 would play old familiar airs, and the rest would join in, 

 singing songs of adventure, or of the far away home, 

 sweetheart or mother. 



We made the necessary arrangements in a short time; 

 and promising to bring more of the boys with us, rode to 

 our camp to impart the news and to brush up in our best 

 for the occasion. After an early supper, and extending 

 our sympathy to the two men on night guard, we mounted 

 our horses and returned to the other camp, which pre- 

 sented a pretty sight on that bright moonlight August 

 evening. The wagons were drawn in circles; the fires by 

 which the women were preparing supper, while the men 

 and boys were looking after the horses and cattle. Some 

 were carrying water from the river, others were chopping 

 wood and cleaning the harness. The children were play- 

 ing and watching the flicker of the fires, and a group of 

 girls were singing, while all within reach joined in the 

 chorus. The rushing of the river, the neighing of horses, 

 the lowing of cattle, with the singing of some near and 

 others far, seemed to give perfect harmony to the peace- 

 ful scene and lend a charm to the surroundings. 



It is doubtful if ever a lot of young men entered a ball 

 room, with waxed floor, magnificent decorations, and 

 containing beauty, wealth and culture, who anticipated 

 more pleasure than we. as we rode up to this spot which 

 was to be our ball room; with the earth for a floor, the 

 wagons for walls, and the bright starry heavens for ceiling; 



and the light summer air, the prairie and the murmuring 

 river for surroundings; two fiddles and mouth harps as 

 our orchestra.. 



Upon invitation to dismount and consider ourselves one 

 of them, we were not long in getting acquainted with 

 every one, in the easy Western style. Supper soon over, 

 the musicians took their positions on top of the wagon, 

 and the dancing began — such dancing as is seldom done. 

 More healthy enjoyment was never had; and a merrier 

 lot of men and women seldom came together, even the 

 babies and old people danced. 



At 10 o'clock the second guard went on, and we danced 

 an hour longer to give the boys who were on first guard 

 a chance. Then came song, conversation and flirtation, 

 for another hour, and after a hearty good bye we returned 

 to our camp. 



We had work to do next day, separating the cattle, for 

 some our men were going north, others went to their 

 home ranches. The immigrants decided to rest a day and 

 see how we worked with the cattle. The cutting out and 

 branding is always exciting and interesting to look upon, 

 though hard work. Some of the boys borrowed saddles 

 of^those not on duty, and with the gentlest horses invited 

 some of the boys to view an actual round-up, and after- 

 ward at our camp they sat down to a dinner that our 

 cook, old Ginger, took particular pains to prepare. Of 

 course we were all sorry to part after such a pleasant time, 

 and I am sure it will remain one of the best remembrances 

 of our lives. 



At the time I hardly realized it, but what a picture that 

 dance by the moonlit river must have been! 



To-day a great deal of this Platte River country is set- 

 tled by farmers and small ranches, with the exception of 

 western Wyoming, but the northwestern part will be a 

 sportsman's paradise for years to come, owing to the 

 rough country and the almost impenetrable mountains 

 and forests. Big Horn county, yet unorganized, com- 

 prises 12,260 square miles and lies directly east of the 

 Yellowstone Park; the greater part of Fremont county, 

 with almost the same area, and the northern part of 

 Uintah county directly south of the Park comprise 

 nearly 15,000 square miles; and with the Park we have a 

 vast area of nearly 50,000 square miles — a great wild 

 scenic country, beautiful and grand almost beyond com- 

 prehension, and almost as it was a hundred years ago. 

 This comprises the Yellowstone, Big Horn, Shoshone, 

 Wind River, Gros Ventre, Teton, Owl Creek, Jackson's 

 Hole, Lake and Basin country. A magnificent moun- 

 tainous region, whose parks, forests and foothills are 

 full of game, and lakes and streams abounding with the 

 choicest fish, the climate fresh and exhilarating, a perfect 

 health and strength giver. Can a finer field for a sum- 

 mer's outing be found anywhere? Jack Worth. 



Kearney, Nebraska. 



"Danvis Folks." 



I trust it is not too late to say that I hope we have not 

 heard the last from the "Danvis Folks." I was the more 

 disposed to regret the conclusion of their story, because 

 the most of the types were familiar to me in old Vermont, 

 away back in the fifties, and later in New Hampshire. 

 The conclusion differed from my anticipations, for I kind 

 o' thought that Uncle Lishawas to be the guardian angel; 

 but then of course I did not know that Sam had a mine 

 in his fox pasture. I am glad Sam did not shoot Bascom 

 —he wasn't worth powder. 



No sketch can ever be written that shall contain a truer 

 portraiture of the lives and language of the kindly farm- 

 ers of Vermont of forty years ago, and their descendants 

 owe to Mr. Robinson a debt of gratitude for having thus 

 embalmed those memories of their predecessors which the 

 present generation has been privileged to read. Kelpie. 



Albino Birds. 



Holland, Mich. — I have a redwing blackbird which is 

 a partial albino. Nearly every feather on the breast and 

 sides has a large spot on the end, some pure white, others 

 more pinkish; on each leg there are several red feathers. 

 In all other respects the plumage is normal. 



A few days ago I observed a robin whose secondaries 

 and seemingly the outer webs of part of the primaries of 

 each wing were pure white. I stood within 10ft. of the 

 bird, which was on the ground; in this position several 

 white lines could be seen on each wing. When he flew, 

 the white on the wings was easily discernible. 



Was not the animal mentioned by a correspondent sev- 

 eral weeks ago as an albino weasel, an ermine? 



A wild pigeon (Ectopistes migratorius) was killed near 

 here April 7 and brought to me for mounting. 



During the last fall and winter I have received many 

 rather rare birds, most of which I have secured for my own 

 collection. Among them are a pair of double-crested 

 cormorants, two male velvet scoters, a male Acadian owl 

 (Nyctala acadica), and a male American long-eared Owl. 

 I nave also a female opossum, which was shot here last 

 September. A. G. B. 



It was a Tame Beaver. 



National Zoological Park, Washington, D. C, May 

 24.— Editor Forest and Stream: I notice that in Forest 

 and Stream of the 26th you have copied an item from 

 the Washington Star concerning the finding of a beaver 

 on Four-Mile Run, a small tributary of the Potomac near 

 this city. The animal was undoubtedly one that escaped 

 from the National Zoological Park about eight months 

 previously. He was very tame, and when he came up to 

 the farmer probably expected to get something to eat 

 instead of a stroke on the head with a pitch fork. 



Frank Baker, Superintendent. 



A Woodchuck Up a Tree. 



Springfield, Vt.— While fishing last week I saw a 

 woodchuck 12ft. from the ground among the branches of 

 an elm tree only about 2in. in diameter. Have often 

 heard of their climbing large apple trees which slanted 

 sufficiently for them to get a footing, but never knew be- 

 forelof one climbing a perfectly perpendicular tree of eo 

 small a diameter, W, W, P, 



