466 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[June 2, 1894. 



GOOD NATO RED JAGUARS. 



Some Stories from Honduras. 



"Iff she would, my wife could tell a story about that 

 tiger-skin rug on the floor, and about the skin of its kitten, 

 that covers the back of her chair; but as she will not tell 

 it, I may as well," said our host, as we seated ourselves in 

 the sala* where the never failing breeze from the sparkling 

 Caribbean drew fresh through open doors and windows, 

 and the music of the surf on the sandy shore rose and fell 

 in soft cadences. 



"We had tired of the monotony of a diet of cassava and 

 cocos, of beef and bananas, poultry and peccary, of turtle 

 eggs and tarpon, with nothing but oranges and pine- 

 apples, mangoes and maranones for dessert — the things we 

 have to live on here, you know, most of the time. So I 

 asked her to go with me duck hunting, one morning. 



"We paddled to where the bayou widened into a little 

 lake, and saw a flock of muscovies feeding among the 

 pond-lilies and water-poppies on the further side. Wife 

 stepped ashore where there was a little clearing and I 

 paddled away to steal near enough for a good shot at the 

 ducks. The sunshine fell on her as I went, and I saw her 

 take the bright red shawl from her shoulders and fold it 

 carefully and hang it over her arm. Then a bunch of 

 fuchsia bushes on the point hid her from me. 



"I had put my paddle down and reached for my gun, 

 when I heard Anna scream. Of course I turned and 

 paddled for dear life; and I felt like heaping abuse on 

 the man who invented so clumsy, so loggy a device as a 

 dugout. 



"When I rounded the point I saw Anna standing at 

 the edge of the water staring intently at the bushes, 

 while she beckoned me. 



" 'What is it,' I shouted, 'what is the matter?' 



" 'It's a tiger,' she answered, 'it is a big tiger.' 



"That was matter enough, and I dug the paddle down 

 into the water a.nd pulled for the shore. The instant 

 the pitpan grounded on the sand I had my gun in hand 

 and sprang ashore. 



" 'Where is he, where is the brute?' I gasped. 



" 'It was right there where my shawl lies, I scared it 

 away. When it crept up to me I threw my shawl in its 

 face and it ran away.' 



"I picked up her shawl and took a look at the sign. It 

 was plain enough, for the imprints of claws showt d 

 clearly in the sand. We pushed off from shore and pad- 

 dled for the mouth of the bayou. 



" 'I stood there watching you until the bushes hid you 

 from me,' said my wife, 'I was wishing that I had asked 

 you to pick a lot of those white pond lilies and water 

 poppies after you had shot the ducks. Then I heard a 

 rustling in the grass behind nae and turned around 

 quickly, for I thought there might be a man there or a 

 waree, or something savage behind me; and there was 

 that tiger not four yards from me. 



" 'It was crouching down exactly as a cat does when 

 she's creeping up to catch a poor little bird or a nasty 

 sparrow. Its eyes were green and shining and its tail 

 stuck out behind and waved from side to side a little — 

 not very much. I couldn't help thinking that it acted 

 just a* my cat used to at home when she tried to catch 

 birds in the garden. I wonder how poor pussy got along 

 after we were married and I deserted her to come away 

 down here with you. I'm awfully sorry I didn't bring 

 her with us.' 



" 'But, for heaven's sake, what did the tiger do?' 



" 'Oh, yes, I forgot the tiger. I just screamed as loud 

 as I could, and threw my shawl into its face. Then it 

 turned away, and I screamed again. It ran into the 

 bushes then; but I was afraid it would come back.' " 



"How inconsiderate women can be," murmured the 

 Captain. "The tiger's nerves ruust have been unstrung by 

 such treatment." 



"Well, her nerves were unstrung before night, any- 

 way," replied Burch, "for when had seen my wife 

 safe in the house, I got ti;e best of our Waika hunters 

 and the best tiger dogs in ihe village, and went back to 

 the place where it was seen by Anna. The dogs took the 

 trail at once, of course, and in a fev hours we had the 

 skins of the old one and of h> r half-grown kitten. No 

 doubt the big cat would have lit o.i my wife an instant 

 later if Anna hadn't, happened to turn just then and 

 thrown that bright-colored shawl straight into the face of 

 the brute." 



"Los tigres negro=; are bad fellows, sometimes; butsoma 

 of them are not so bad," said Lanuza, the rubber gatherer. 



We swung n our hammocks near the fire which blazed 

 cheerfully on the earthen floor beneath the thatched 

 roof which maue his home, fifty miles from his nearest 

 neighbor. If the blackness of the forest night had not 

 walled us in— it was the only wall the hut had — we could 

 have looked down on a shining reach of river that ran 

 straight away to the wall of forest, a mile or more away, 

 that shut off the further view. 



Beyond the pool, where flakes of snowy foam danced 

 before the huts, arose a rounded hill where were clusters 

 of cariso bamboos bending low in cover so dense that no 

 bird could have flown through; and thickets of palmettoes 

 covered from root to furthest tip by spines as slender and 

 as sharp as any needle; and smooth gray ceibas of pro- 

 digious girth that held, eighty feet or more above the 

 ground, enormous boquetsof roselike bloom; and gigantic 

 cedars and tuberose, and rubber and other tropic trees 

 grew there; and great lianas ran from one to the other 

 and tied all together, and afforded bridges by which squir- 

 rel, coon and possum, monkey, sloth and cats of various 

 kinds could pass from tree to tree. 



A hoarse, long-drawn, roaring mea-o-u had come 

 across to us from that hill a moment before Lanuza spoke 

 He lit a cigarette and drew a whiff of two, while the doz- 

 ing dogs sprang to their feet at the sound of that cry 

 whined uneasily, sniffed at their owner, then coiled them- 

 selves again in the ashes. 



"Do the tigers give you much trouble here?" I asked. 



"No; I have no bestias, no cattle, nor mules, nor horses 

 and my children are big enough to take care of themselves ' 

 But the hons are of evil mind. No, the tigers are not so 

 bad. Susana would tell you, if she could speak anv other 

 than the tongue of the Sumos." 



"Why, what would she tell me?" 



"Susana has lived her life in these woods. She is true 

 Sumo, brave as any man, and a good hunter, for a woman 

 She knows the ways of all the animals, how they live and 

 what each will do. And she saw once that which would 

 have made some mothers have fear, perhaps. It made 



both of us uneasy until I killed off a family of lions that 

 lived in the rocks by the falls of the Blanco, where you 

 shot the mountain cow. 



"Our Tonio is my bravo. You know." 

 "Yes, I do know. He's full of mischief." 

 "So it is. Well, then, Tonio and his sister— she was a 

 little one then — wandered along the sand by the river there, 

 and waded through the shallows where the cuyumel watch 

 for food, and played at hunting until long after the time 

 when they should have brought the appetite of the coyote 

 to the breakfast their mother had made ready. 



"The sun was past the middle of the sky when Susana 

 started to find the children. She might have left Tonio to 

 come when he Would — he is a boy, and boys must learn to 

 care for themselves; besides, who can tell where a boy 

 will be, at any time. But Juliana is to the heart of my 

 wife as honey is to her tongue, and sweeter " 



I might have added that the child was to her father as 

 precious as the blood in his own veins; but he was telling 

 the story. 



"Perhaps you know how is, sefior; you have read many 

 books written by wise men; but I have lived with Susana 

 and have known these Indians many years, yet have not 

 been able to learn how they know such things, and they 

 will not or cannot tell me — but it is as true as that the sun 

 will shine to morrow, that they do know exactly when 

 and where and how to go, when they want anything. 



"Well, then, Susana knew that it was time for her to 

 find her nifiita; so she walked fast straight away to the 

 falls of the Blanco. She stopped in the bushes by the 

 sandy slope beside the pool that is below the fall. You 

 would expect any one to stop when they saw before them 

 an open space in the woods, of course, to learn what 

 might be there. 



"Juliana lay asleep in the shade of the tops of cariso 

 that almost swept the dry sand. Tonio had left the child 

 there, while he followed a chuchu-de-agua. You know 

 it, the little opossum that lives so much in the water. 



"And Susana saw also a yellow head, with pointed ears 

 and shining eyes under the big leaves of a platanio. It 

 was not ten varas from our little one. It crept from its 

 hiding and crouched on the ground. It crawled nearer to 

 our baby, slowly, its white breast almost touching the sand. 

 Then Susana stepped softly and swiftly through the 

 bushes, that she should be close behind when she would 

 jump out. and yell to scare him and awaken the child, 

 and would slash him with her machete. There was time, 

 for my wife knows the lions, and that they look carefully, 

 and make sure before they leap on any sleeping thing. If 

 the child had stirred — ah, who knows. 



"But, before she was near enough to the Hon, out from 

 the black shadows beneath the cariso a tigre negro shot 

 over the nifiita. He crouched before the lion, on the sand. 



"Susana stood still, and looked. Her baby slept, for 

 neither of the beasts had made a sound. Her mother is 

 Sumo— she knows the ways of the animals. Her child 

 was safe, for the two great cats would not think of her. 

 They were busy. When they would be through fighting 

 they would not think of eating. No. They — one of 

 them — would be thinking of its hurts. The other would 

 be dead. 



"They faced each other and growled, not loudly. The 

 lion sprang. When he touched the sand there were 

 gashes in his side, for our tiger was wise in fighting. He 

 had jumped aside, and struck the lion before his feet had 

 touched the ground. Jump and blow were like the flash 

 from the gun, for quickness. 



"Then the lion screamed aloud. He was enraged. But 

 the tiger does not cry so readily. He fights. "But our 

 spotted friend was brave, and quick, and strong. The 

 lion leaped again, and the tiger met him in the air. Hair 

 flew, and blood. My wife stood; like a tree, for stillness, 

 and J uliana scrambled up on the shelving rock beyond 

 the river. 



"They fought long; then the lion ran and crawled be- 

 neath the big liana that hangs near the ground there. The 

 tiger jumped on the liana, and the lion lay on his back, 

 with his paws up, to ward off blows. The tiger snatched 

 at his enemy, and his claws tore the head of the lion, and 

 blood filled his eyes. The lion cried loudly, for it knew 

 that it was near the end. 



"When the tiger heard that scream, he was a devil. He 

 tore at the hinder legs of the lion. He struck at the head, 

 the legs, the. sides of his enemy. Then he jumped down, 

 and in a moment the two were held fast together by their 

 forearms, and their hinder claws cut like knives. The 

 lion screamed again, horribly. The fight was done; his 

 howels were dragged from him. 



"The tiger struck the lion three or four times, then 

 slowly walking to the water, turning half around each 

 few steps, to see if any life was in the lion. He lay down 

 close to the water and lapped a few mouthf uls. The spots 

 on him could not be seen; they were red with blood. His 

 ear was torn to shreds, and we know him to-day by that " 

 "Then he did not die?" 



"He lives among the rocks beyond the falls of the 

 Blanco. You have been there many times, Susana would 

 have washed his hurts. He was a tigre negro, but he 

 saved our baby from the lion — so my wife did not try to 

 kill him with her machete when he was weak from the 

 fighting and loss of blood. No, I know him well, and do 

 not shoot at him, no, never." E. W. Perry. 



Alaskan Bird Observations under- Difficulties. 



Sitka., Alaska, May.— Editor Forest and Stream: After 

 my last letter to you of Jan. 21 and up to the last of 

 March, we had an almost daily fall of snow of from 1 to 

 6in. per day; and the oldest inhabitant declared that he 

 has never known such a winter "in this neck of the 

 woods." Under these circumstances any systematic ob- 

 servation of the birds was very difficult, especially so as 

 the fall of snow was generally attended by intense cold 

 and high winds, which prevented entirely, save on very 

 occasional days, any canoe navigation, which is the only 

 means here of going about upon the water. 



Early in March, by some kind act of nature, a calm day 

 dawned, and being impatient to take some notes, I 

 engaged two Flingit Indians to take me in a canoe down 

 to the Baranoff Hot Springs, situated on Baranoff Island 

 about sixteen miles below Sitka. Near these springs are 

 some extensive mud flats, which are laid low by the low 

 tides, and upon them I had hoped to find the first arrivals 

 of our migrants. We reached our destination after an un- 



ourselves of a calm and were forced to return. So great 

 was the sea and so heavy the wind, that upon one day 

 soon after arrival, when our Indians ventured out during 

 a few moments of calm to endeavor to secure some venison, 

 a squall struck their canoe, which was an unusually large 

 one of the Hydah pattern (which is considered by far the 

 strongest), when they were within 600yds. of the shore, 

 splitting the strong craft from stem to stern. 



It is needless to say I did not find any spring arrivals 

 among the birds seen. The mud flats I found were frozen 

 hard as soon as uncovered by the tide, and were addition- 

 ally covered by cakes of stranded ice. I found, however, 

 a few specimens well worthy of note. On the trip down 

 I saw a number of the tufted puffin, but none near enough 

 to secure. What is chiefly valued c ver any specimen 

 secured thus far is what is evidently the short-winged 

 murrelet of Coues (Brachyrhamphus brachypterus, l,Coues, 

 No. 870). The specimen secured I have mounted and 

 placed in my collection. It differs from any murrelet I 

 have ever seen in the amount of white upon neck and 

 belly, having a long head and a bill about half the length 

 of head. The tarsus is longer than the middle toe. This 

 specimen has almost a collar of white around neck. The 

 head is a coal black. White on belly continues from neck 

 collar to base of tail. Can any one give us any light upon 

 this species? Coues is very meager in his description, 

 which is quoted from Brandt. He gives the habitat as 

 Unalaska, which might be continued to the Sitka district. 

 There were two individuals of this bird together, of which 

 I was able to secure but one. 



Since my return from the Springs my Indians have 

 brought me two specimens of the Mongolian plover 

 (JEgialitis mongola, A. O. U. 279), but they were so badly 

 shot as to be quite useless for preservation. I have secured 

 several fine specimens of the harlequin duck (Histrionicus 

 minitus), and have found them fairly abundant. These 

 species winter here. Have also secured with especial 

 pleasure a specimen of the red-throated pipit (Anthus eer- 

 vinus), and while the only specimen secured was badly 

 damaged even by the light charge of No, 10 shot, yet I 

 have seen quite a number since, and have reason to 

 feel confident of securing others. The Wilson snipe (Gal- 

 linago wilsoni) are quite plentiful during the spring and 

 summer, judging from accounts given by the few enthu- 

 siastic sportsmen. 



During my many waiting hours between storms 1 have 

 been much amused and instructed by watching the ravens 

 (Corvus cor ax), which abound here and which reach great 

 size. (I have killed one specimen with bill of a trifle over 

 3in. in length, and total length 2ft. 6in.) A more pugna- 

 cious bird is hard to find. I have seen a single individual 

 chase a bald eagle for a mile or more. Their favorite food 

 seems to be the clam, which they unearth with their stout 

 beak. After unearthing it, they seize the bivalve in their 

 claws and with him fly to a height, and then drop him 

 upon the rocks, breaking his shell, after which they 

 pounce down upon him and devour the dainty morsel 

 with great relish. Should the shell be found not broken 

 by the fall, the clam is again seized and carried to a 

 greater height than before, and then dropped again. 

 Sometimes this is repeated three or four timeB. 



Thig quaint old Russian town has suffered an irreparable 

 loss through the destruction by fire of the old Baranoff 

 Castle — "America's only castle," as some writer has called 

 it. How the fire started no one knows, but at 2 o'clock in 

 the morning the town was awakened by cries of fire, and 

 in two hours, in spite of every effort, the noble structure 

 was in ashes. C, M. 



" That reminds me." 



A Night in the Wilderness. 



Lancaster, N. H. — In the vast unbroken wilderness 

 lying directly south of the Dixville Notch, there are three 

 celebrated trout ponds in the township of Millsfield, and 

 named after that township. Big Millsfield lies about six 

 miles from the road running directly from Colebrook, 

 through the notch to Eroll Dam on the Androscoggin 

 Eiver. Little Millsfield and the third pond lie seven miles 

 further south. 



The wilderness lying around these waters is in its pri- 

 meval state. Here deer, rabbits and partridges, and 

 game of all kinds abounds. And at night the hoot of the 

 owl, the snarl of the bob cat, the yell of the wildcat, the 

 scream of the panther and the whistle of bears keep up a 

 continual concert. 



Last fall the New Hampshire Fish Commissioners con- 

 cluded to stock, partially, the Colebrook hatchery with 

 trout taken from these ponds, and Sam Gerrish, a veteran 

 woodsman and guide, was employed to fish there during 

 the spawning season, or rather after the commencement 

 of the close season. 



Sam has spent most of his life in the woods, and 

 camped there for three months, coming out in December. 

 He tells the writer of an adventure he had a few days be- 

 fore his final departure : 



"For the last month, I had a number of visitors, includ- 

 ing Col. Shurtleff, chairman of the Fish Commissioners. 

 He was the last to leave. When he left an unaccountable 

 sense of loneliness seemed to take possession of me. Why, 

 I cannot tell. I have 'been in the woods most of the time 

 for twenty years and am seldom ever lonesome. But that 

 day I felt 'down to the^ heel' as the saying is. The day 

 might have had something to do with it, for it was dark 

 and gloomy, with a light rain. 



"After putting the camp in shape, and placing a piece 

 of venison in the pot for supper, I built up a good fire, 

 and talcing my Winchester, axe and lunch, sticking my 

 fish lines in the belt around me, I started for Little Mills- 

 field, to take my last trout before going out. The path to 

 it was a mere spotted line, through a dense forest, seven 

 miles. 



"It commenced snowing soon after I left camp, which 

 in a little while turned to a light rain. I came to the 

 pond about 11 o'clock, and built up a fire on the margin 

 of the pond, as the weather had began to'grow cold. I 

 cut some holes in the ice, set my lines and ate my lunch. 

 I had good luck catching twenty trout that would weigh 

 301bs. ; and at 4 picked up my traps and started for home. 

 It was growing dark and I hurried along, when I came 



Q ™^ff„i y * i- , - — r , — : »uuM-iii «« Kiuwjug udiis. auu j. jjuiiieu iuuug, wxien i came 



wKS \, 2 y g ! ^ about six hours, but upon the day fol- \ to Big Millsfield, it was blowing a gale, driving the frozen 

 lowing our arrival the prevailing high winds and intense rain into my face. 



aSpd^t™ un " " B y crossing an arm of the pond I could save more 



abated for ten consecutive days, by which time we availed I than a mile in reaching my camp. Still it was very risky 



