272 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[April 4, 1896. 
Captive California Vulture. 
There was captured in the early part of the present 
month near Cbino, in San Bernardino county, Cal., a liv- 
ing California vulture (Pseudogryphus calif ornianus). The 
specimen, which is reported to be a young one, is said to 
have been feeding on a cow and was so gorged with food 
that it could not rise in the air, and was roped, tied and 
put in the stable of Mr. Richard Gird's ranch. It is pre- 
cisely in this way that the California vulture used to be 
captured by the Californians in early days, before that 
country became a part of the United States and when 
these birds were extremely abundant. Of late years they 
have grea.tly diminished in numbers, for their vast Bize 
leads to their almost continual pursuit. Great numbers 
too have been poisoned by carcasses set out as baits for 
wolves, mountain lions and other wild animals. 
In the press accounts of the capture of this specimen 
the usual embroidery is to be found. The bird is said to 
weigh lOOlbs. and to have a spread of wings 12ft. 
As a matter of fact, the Calif ornia vulture is the largest, 
though not always the heaviest, of North American birds. 
Its length varies "from 4 to 5ft., its spread of wings from 
8 to lift., and its weight is from 20 to 251bs. It thus 
nearly approaches the condor in size. 
From the description given of the captive bird it would 
seem to be a young one. Mr. Gird, its present owner, has 
it confined and values it at $1,000. 
Will English Snipe Eat Corn? 
Two weeks since the writer was spending a few days at 
the Princess Anne Club, twelve miles below Virginia 
Beach, when one of the members, who had been shoot- 
ing snipe in the immediate vicinity of the club house, 
returned with about a dozen birds. The dog in retrieving 
one wounded bird pinched it severely and the gentleman 
noticed in taking the bird from the dog some grains 
protruding from the bird's craw which upon examination 
proved to be pop corn, there being some ten or twelve 
kernels which did not seem to be in the least affected or 
decomposed by the gastic juices. The following day he 
also killed another snipe from which some twelve or 
fifteen kernels of the pop corn exuded from its craw. 
This pop corn has been preserved and will be planted at 
the club grounds this year. 
The writer, having killed hundreds of snipe, was very 
much surprised at the fact that a snipe would feed on 
corn, a diet entirely foreign to its nature, in his estimation. 
Where in the South did these birds find the kernels of 
pop corn? The birds were wild, showing that their 
arrival was very recent, probably the night before they 
were shot. Has any one ever heard of such an instance 
and can any light be given on this subject? 
Princess Anne. 
A Deer at Sea. 
Ben Lewis and Joe Sidelinker, of Tiverton, R. I., 
recently started from Newport on a codfishing expedi- 
tion. When about one and a half miles from Sachuest 
Point, R. I., the point bearing N. by E., they came across 
a large buck deer, apparently bound for Navesink High- 
lands, as he was heading in that direction and going full 
five miles an hour. After a hard chase Sidelinker laid 
him out by a blow on the head with an oar, but that it 
only stunned him they had abundant evidence before 
they secured him in the boat. They took him to New- 
port and finally sold him to Roger Williams Park in 
Providence for enough more than to compensate them 
for the time lost in his capture. Where did the buck 
come from, and where was he bound? Are deer given 
to ocean voyages as a rule? This one gave every evi- 
dence of being wild, and certainly for twenty miles either 
side of where he was captured no park deer are kept. 
QUEQUECHAN. 
Spring Movements of the Birds. 
Ashburnham, Mass., March 22.— Editor Forest and 
Stream: The first bluebird of the season seen here ap- 
peared to-day. Five have been around the old box twit- 
tering as of old. Last year not one was seen in this or 
the adjoining town as far as I could learn. The pine 
grosbeak has been quite numerous all winter. I noticed 
the first flock Christmas Day. H. C. Newell. 
Ballston Spa, Saratoga Co., N. Y., March 22.— At Song 
Sparrow's request to note when the birds arrive: I saw 
the first bluebird on March 19 and the first robin to-day, 
March 22. The weather is very cold with a foot of snow 
on the ground yet. They had better look out, for on 
March 28, 1872, they came and hundreds never went 
back - Bluebird. 
Caribou Measurements. 
The head of "The Emperor" caribou, killed at Grand- 
father's Lookout, White Hills, Newfoundland, Oct. 27 
1894, by Dr. S. T. Davis, Lancaster, Pa., and shown by the 
Forest and Stream at the Sportsmen's Exposition, meas- 
ured: Length of right beam from hair to tip, 42in, ; length 
of left beam from hair to tip, 41|in. ; tip to tip. 32iin.; 
spread, center to center, 37f in. ; circumference of right 
beam at hair, 6in. ; circumference of left beam at hair 
6*in. ; points on right horn 32, points on left horn 15—47 
points; breadth of right palm, 7|in.; breadth of left palm, 
6|m.; circumference of entire rack, lift. 9in. : diameter 
of space occupied by rack, 4ft. 
A New Man. 
New York, March 27.— Editor Forest and Stream: I 
feel that I must thank you for the benefit I have derived 
from the articles in your paper. At one time I used to 
read "dime novels" and other such literature, but vour 
paper has made a man out of me. I now take some in- 
terest in sport, something I never did before, and I expect 
to have a very pleasant summer by following the good 
advice contained in your paper, instead of lounging around 
trying to find something to do. 
Since your paper has taken the place of "cheap and 
poor" literature I am entirely changed. I now take an 
interest in other things besides my dress etc 
You can credit yourself with having made'a man out of 
SL topi 
Again thanking you for what you have done for me 
find wishing you everlasting success, I am gratefully, ' 
$*fl Mli %tttU 
JACK HUNTING. 
BY A JACK HUNTER. 
Just at this time, when there is a hue and cry against 
this method of hunting, and when it looks as if our State 
Legislature were about to prohibit it by law, it may not 
be "good politics" to say anything in its favor. Practiced 
in early summer, in June and July, it can doubtless be 
made very destructive, as deer come to water much more 
during those months than later in the season, and the 
killing of a doe then means also the probable death of one 
or two fawns. 
Take it within the present open season, after Aug. 15, 
and comparatively few deer will be killed by this method. 
By comparatively few I mean no greater percentage of 
the living supply than that supply will allow without 
permanent decrease. To have a successful night hunt 
several things are important, some absolutely necessary. 
Suppose you are hunting on a pond with from one to five 
miles of shore line or on a stream with perhaps ten miles. 
A deer coming to water is there from five to thirty min- 
utes, seldom more than the latter, often less than the 
former. 
The writer has, on several occasions, had deer cross 
the stream on which he was hunting just ahead of 
and also just behind his boat within plain hearing, yet 
come and go so quickly that he neither got sight of them 
nor even frightened them. With any considerable length 
of shore line several deer might come and go and stay in 
as long as they liked and yet never know that the hunter 
was abroad, as many a hunter can tell you who has 
hunted all night without even hearing a deer and yet saw 
plenty of fresh tracks on shore next day. 
Then again the deer very soon gets "educated," and the 
educated deer knows his biz and don't you forget it. 
There are numerous lakes and streams in the 
Adirondacks, yet there are many acres of land to one of 
water, and many ponds and streams are not frequented by 
deer. This from various causes, such as lack of feed, 
abrupt, rocky shores, deep water, etc. 
Deer come to water to feed on the lilypads and on the 
tender grasses that grow on the bottom of some ponds 
and portions of some streams. A shallow pond with 
patches of lilypads or a grassy bottom is a good, pond for 
deer, and here the jack hunter looks for and under favor- 
able conditions finds his game. A warm, still, dark night 
is very desirable for a hunt. Not that deer are not killed 
on other nights, but the chances are not nearly so good. 
On a cold night fog raises and the hunter often tries in 
vain to get even a glimpse of the deer that he hears and 
from the sound judges to be within shooting distance. 
Presently the deer's nose discovers "where he is at" and he 
is up and away. On a windy night the deer is likely to 
scent the hunter long before he is within shooting dis- 
tance, and even if he chance to be to windward of the 
game the water slaps against the sides of his boat, and 
his jack may be blown out just at the critical moment. 
With a big moon there is little use floating at all. 
Commencing, then, with Aug. 15, the ideal nights for 
floating are very few indeed, and it seems rather too bad 
that the now law-abiding hunter who enjoys this method 
of hunting should be deprived of the privilege simply and 
solely because of those who kill earlier in the season in 
violation of the law as it is, and because it is not enforced. 
Of course these same persons will not violate the more 
stringent law. Oh, dear, no! All the Legislature has to 
do is to make such a law as will prevent the man who 
now kills within the legal time from killing at all, and at 
once the woods will be full of deer. Why, I heard a 
member of the present Assembly just the other day say 
that he never saw a wild deer in his life, yet he should 
vote for the amendment. 
But I beg the reader's pardon. This isn't what I started 
out to write. I started out to tell a few things about 
jack-hunting as I have seen them. Call it the history of 
a few hunts if you please. 
My first jack-hunt I well remember, though it occurred 
about thirty-five years ago. I was then a boy, and my 
father lived in a baokwoods settlement where deer and 
trout were comparatively plenty. One day a neighbor, 
whom I will call Fletcher, was at our house, and the con- 
versation turned upon the sameness of salt pork seven 
days in the week. Fletcher said he thought a deer could 
be killed at Dodge Pond, a little pond some two miles 
away, almost any good night. We had no boat, but my 
father had some nails and rosin; Fletcher had some 
sound spruce boards, and saws and hammers weie soon 
at work. 
By middle of the same afternoon our craft was ready 
and we loaded it on to a wagon, yoked up a pair of 
2-year-old steers, and with a single-barrel rifle, a "twenty- 
shilling" shotgun and a tallow candle, Fletcher and I 
were off for the pond. Before turning off the main road 
we met a bevy of young ladies, and one of them re- 
marked while we were yet within hearing, "That is a 
spikey boat," and we saw no reason for contradicting the 
statement., 
A short distance from the pond we halted in the barn- 
yard of an abandoned clearing, unhitched our team and 
chained them to a wbeel of the wagon, with a bundle of 
hay to keep them quiet. 
After a due amount of hard work we had pulled, wig- 
gled and hauled our boat to the pond and put it in to soak 
up, while we built a smudge to keep the punkies off, ate 
our luncheon, made a jack, loaded our guns, and then 
waited for darkness to come. 
Our jack was a primitive affair — just a section of spruce 
bark about 1ft. long and wide enough to encircle the head 
except in front, with a piece of birch bark cut oblong and 
with the corners rounded at one end to form the bottom. 
The spruce bark was nailed to it at a distance of about 
one-third up and around the rounded end. The square 
end was allowed to project a little, that it might cast a 
shadow over the bow of the boat. Three small nails 
driven in the center of the bottom formed the socket for 
the candle. 
The shotgun was loaded with as many fingers of pow- 
der as was deemed safe for the shooter, a paper wad on 
top well rammed down, then three large buckshot and 
another light wad, then and last a "G. D." cap. At first 
I used to wonder why these caps were called "G. D.," but 
subsequent use of them convinced roe that there could, he, 
no doubt as to the proper names, and I believe to this day 
that they were well named. 
Twilight came and went and darkness settled over 
woods and water, and it was with a sigh of relief that the 
boy, who, then at least, regarded himself as all-important 
to the success of the hunt, heard his companion announce 
in a whisper that it was time to light up and go out. 
A few minutes later he was Beated on a pile of boughs 
well up in the bow of the boat, the jack on his head, its 
one candle throwing out a few sickly rays of light, shot- 
gun resting on his knees, and his senses of sight and hear- 
ing strained to the utmost to detect any presence of the 
game he was after. 
Only those who have floated for deer and who remem- 
ber their own first experience will understand his many 
disappointments^how his pulse quickened, how often his 
heart jumped up into his throat, how often his gun was 
half raised to his shoulder, to be lowered again as the 
paddler whispered, "That's only a rat," or "That's nothing 
but a log; don't shoot." 
At length a different sound is heard, a faint cracking 
of brush, a swish, swish, in the grass on shore. The bow 
of the boat is turned toward it and the paddler whispers, 
"That's a deer." A few moments, and as we silently ap- 
proach the.shore the outlines of some animal, large and 
silvery, show dimly at first, then more plainly, and gradu- 
ally take on the form of a deer. Slowly the shotgun 
comes to the shoulder, the boy glances along the barrel, 
feels sure that he is holding on in spite of the circles de- 
scribed by the muzzle, and then with a wince at the ex- 
pected recoil he pulls the trigger. Peck! the cap has 
missed fire. The deer looks astonished for a brief instant 
and then the sharp crack of the paddler's rifle rings out* 
echoing from pond to mountain, from hill to crag. The 
deer has vanished in the darkness. Crash! crash! tunk! 
tunk! then silence. "He is dead, let's go ashore." It is 
Fletcher's voice that breaks the spell. My first night hunt 
ii ended. 
I do not remember the dates, but it was probably a year 
or two later on when one Saturday afternoon I saw two 
men from an adjoining town drive past with a boat on 
their wagon. Next day they drove hack with two deer, 
and I soon found out that they killed them at Dodge 
Pond. The next Saturday night they hunted again, but 
got nothing. 
This was more than the boy could stand, to have out- 
of-town hunters come and kill deer right under his nose, 
so to speak. They had hidden their boat of course, but not 
so securely that the sharp eyes of the boy could not find it. 
Once at the pond and five minutes' study told him where 
it ought to be hidden, and a few minutes' search found it. 
Then he returned home and hunted up a chum, and pro- 
posed that they go out floating. By this time the boy 
was the owner of a single-barrel pea-shooting rifle, A 
jack was easily made, and the weather being favorable 
the hunt began that same night as soon as darKness set in. 
There was th > usual prelude of frogs and rats, false alarms 
at the sight of old gray logs and then the unmistakable 
splash, splash, of a deer walking in shallow water. It 
seemed, ages almost, hours at least, and slowly the form 
of a deer loomed up to view. The rifle is carefully aimed 
and then — peck! With a snort the deer is off. Two or 
three jumps and he is within the thicket of small spruces 
that grow just back of the pebbly beach. 
There is no accounting for some things. That deer 
stopped, turned partly around and deliberately stuck his 
head and neck into view from behind a spruce top. 
Quick fingers had pulled the "G. D." (?) cap from the 
nipple and replaced it with a fresh one. 
The proper thing then had been to slowly bring the gun 
to shoulder and take deliberate aim, but the boy was a 
bit rattled perhaps, for he had learned by hearsay from 
his hunter friends just how to do it and knew better than 
to do what he did. He threw the gun to his shoulder 
with a jerk. The barrel gleamed in the light and the 
deer sprang. Giving the gun a jerk in the same direction 
and a little upward, the trigger was pressed, and the re- 
port for the moment obliterated all other sounds. Then 
, we heard a faint rustling in the bushes beyond, and fol- 
lowing the instructions we had received we silently 
backed away from the shore and ran to another part of 
the shore to reload and ask each other in whispers 
whether the deer was killed. 
As soon as it was light enough to see to shoot we went 
over to the place where I had shot, landed and quickly 
found a nice ten-prong buck dead and cold. My bullet 
had caught him in the flank, and ranging forward 
through the vitals had evidently produced almoBt instant 
death. My exact weight before and after the hunt I do 
not remember, but am quite sure that the difference was 
considerable, 
A few years later one dark, warm night, found the 
writer, then a young man, seated in the stern of a little 
flat-bottomed boat on a pond near by Dodge Pond. A 
neighbor, whom I will call Bill, sat in the bow armed and 
equipped with the usual bark jack and single-barrel rifle. 
For an hour or more we paddled around, hearing nothing 
but the frogs, rats and hedgehogs. Getting tired of this 
we were lying off the shore some thirty rods, and Bill 
had taken the jack from his head and was half asleep, 
when there came a mighty splash from near the shore, 
followed by the souse, souse that sends a tingle through 
the veins of the night hunter. Turning the stern of the 
boat toward the sound, the jack was silently lighted and 
adjusted on Bill's head, and at his signal that he wagf 
ready I turned the boat around and approach the shore. 
Presently a light spot shone on the surface of the water 
and this soon took on the form of an antlered head. It 
soon shone plainly 'in the light, and not wishing to 
risk getting nearer I swung the boat for Bill to 
shoot. Slowly the rifle came to his shoulder, which 
it hardly touched before it was discharged. Then 
as the report died away there was a confusion of 
sounds. Bill was furious. The blank, blank gun went 
too easy; went before he expected it to, before he 
had taken any aim; he had just put his finger against 
the trigger when off it went, and he had missed the blank, 
blankest best shot he ever had in his life. I was obligee}, 
to take this all in with one ear, but with the other I was 
listening to the deer. I heard it plunge for the shore, try 
once to climb the bank and fall back. At the second at- 
tempt it succeeded. Then came two or three quick, spite^ 
ful jumps, a fall, a little rustling in the leaves, then silence.' 
I waited until Bill got out of both adjectives and breath; 
and then quietly asked him what ailed him. He went 
oye r part of it agaiuj m$ T laughed. Tbep he aft mad. 
