412 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 23, 1896. 
us it ought to beseech. Its eyes looked as though it had 
been crying. 
We told it to keep still; we'd give it a nice cage and a 
trip to Washington, Jump brought the cage — which he 
had taken to the house — opened the door, then tipped the 
net over, and in walked the beaver as slowly as it had 
come out of its hole. We replaced the net, I pushed 
again in the hole with the shovel, when out walked an- 
other small beaver. Jack joined its mate in the cage. 
DAM AND HOUSE BEGUN, 
Again the net was placed at the entrance, again I pushed 
in the shovel, and after a little persuading a very large 
beaver walked out and into our net. When the net was 
raised, it sat up like the little ones and walked into the 
cage, filling it pretty full. We were satisfied with that 
hole, but looked in to see if there was any more of the 
family at home. We had them all. 
Swinging the cage on a pole by wires, two shouldered 
it, and the other carrying some of the tools, we started 
for Yancey's, a mile away. It was quite a load to pack, 
but we all felt so pleased over our catch that we did not 
mind it. We put the beaver in the tin-lined box with the 
first two taken from the house. The beaver seemed glad 
to see one another again. After smelling of everything 
they all crawled into a corner until there was only a pile, 
I thought some of the little ones would be smothered. I 
gave them hay for a bed, a part of a barrel for a bath tub, 
and some quaking asp for food. I haH noticed that the 
first beaver captured would not eat anything for three or 
four days, and even after that only a very little for a few 
days more. After about ten days they would eat the bark 
off a large quantity of wood. Of the family the little 
ones were the first to eat and showed less fear. When 
their tub was filled with fresh water, one of them would 
come at once. As I wished them to get as tame as possi- 
ble, I did not object to anyone's seeing them. Everyone 
who passed along the road was very much interested, 
even old trappers. 
I now had eight beaver, and as I thought I could pick 
up a few more not far away, we moved all our imple- 
ments back to Yancey's and down the creek to the two- 
house dam. Working up the creek, we broke dam after 
dam. The weather was getting colder. Ice formed every 
night and in the morning the dams were a mass of ice. 
Every stick was covered except where the water ran. 
Our hands were in very bad condition; we could not get 
them healed. Cracks, cuts and bruises made them swell 
during the night, so that when we went to work in the 
morning it was not very pleasant to take hold of the icy 
willows, sticks, stumps and stones to remove the dams. 
There were no houses in the ponds we were draining 
while we were looking for bank beaver. After cutting 
ten or fifteen dams and searching out every hole, this 
time very carefully, after our experience above, we 
found a hole the end of which we could not reach with 
a long willow. Cutting in and feeling again, we could 
not find the end. A second cut was made, when we felt 
something at the end. Digging down, we soon routed 
out a beaver. The dip net was in the channel below, at a 
bend; Hague ran to it. The beaver dove into the water, 
and partly floating, partly walking, went down with the 
current and into the net. As soon as it found itself cor- 
nered it commenced cutting the wires of the net with its 
teeth. Getting hold of a wire, it would bite and cut at it 
until it parted ; then seizing another, it would soon cut 
that. We were afraid we were going to lose it. Even 
when we shook the net it would not let go. Getting the 
cage as soon as possible, we turned down the net by the 
open door; but it would not go in until we turned it 
toward the water, with the cage at the edge of the creek. 
Then, thanking it was going to escape, it went in with a 
rush, and was at last safely confined. We examined the 
net, and found it cut so badly that we had to get another 
piece of netting to put inside. This one fought more than 
any of the others, but did not dive at us as much as the 
one spoken of above. 
m Next day, after cutting many dams, and at last the last 
one, we found several long passages, with nests at the end 
of each. Some of them were over 20 ft. long. Beaver 
had been there lately. While cutting away a bit of over- 
hanging bank from between two holes, we found another 
passage, longer than the others, and cutting three holes 
in this to find the end, Jump started another beaver that 
came out with a rush, and attempted to get into the old 
holes, which were blocked with sod. It would lie on the 
bottom, close under the bank, and within a few feet of 
Hague, while he was at work getting a good place for the 
net. I was above, to keep it from getting away. It 
looked more like a chunk of rotten wood than a beaver. 
When Hague was ready I poked it with a stick; it turned 
and went back into the tunnel it had come out of. Jump 
started it out again. When it came out of one of the 
holes we had dug to get the direction of the tunnel, it 
made a jump over a bunch of willows at least 5ft. high, 
landing in the creek, whence it dove under the bank 
again. We were so astonished at its jump that at first we 
thought we had started some other animal out of the 
hole. We were quite a while getting it into the net, and 
when we did so the iron frame broke where it had been 
bent. It was soon in the cage, not showing a bit of fight 
at any time, although it was the largest beaver we had 
captured. Jump said it was the largest he had ever seen. 
We all thought it would weigh 75ibs. : but when put on 
the scales it only showed a little over 471bs. I believe the 
largest beaver bn record weighed 62lbs. I am not sure 
but that was weighed like we did our big one at first 
sight — by guess. When we packed it to the house, we 
were sure it weighed 751bs., if not a little more. If we'd 
carried it a mile, I'm afraid it would have been 801bs. 
Scales spoil and shrink many big things; 10lb. trout be- 
come 3 or 4lb., and 751b. beavers become 47-pounders, and 
l,0001bs. of iron shrink proportionally. 
The big beaver made our tenth and last. We had 
worked out all the houses and holes that we could very 
PINE TREE OUT DOWN BY BEAVER, WASHINGTON ZOO. 
well get at. We were in a very dilapidated condition — 
boats leaked so that we were wet through; we had 
enough for one year. So taking a good dose of Uncle 
John's "Kentucky High Step," we drank success to the 
beaver. 
I went out again another year with another crew and 
captured more beaver; found they all had different dis- 
positions, and learned more about their ways and habits; 
but I think you have enough this time. E. Hofer. 
WILD PIGEONS. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
As the American wild pigeon becomes every year more 
and more a vara avis, and as its ultimate extinction seems 
certainly assured, it becomes each season a matter of 
greater interest to the readers of your esteemed paper to 
hear something of the whereabouts and habits of this 
most interesting bird. When I came to this country from 
an office only a few doors from your own beautiful head- 
quarters seven years ago, I plunged into "the forest 
primeval" and gulped down huge drafts of the balsamic 
air of . freedom with an enthusiasm that took me into 
nearly every section of this most picturesque and delight- 
ful country. 
Almost immediately I discovered that the wild pigeon, 
which lived in my memory as a cherished remembrance 
only, lived here in reality and could be obtained in such 
numbers as to make their- pursuit satisfactory sport. I 
have shot .a fair number of strings every season, and 
curing thelsummers of '93 and '94 two half-breed mar- 
— t hunters brought many hundreds of doz ens into this city. 
The birds breed in the tallest timber in the foothills of 
both mountain chains, and come down to the Sound to 
eat salt mud and feed upon the grain fields of the 
farmers. 
They fly in small flocks, say thirteen to thirty-five, 
often in pairs or in bands of seven or eight, are very wary 
and suspicious of human approach. 
They may sometimes be surprised in the early morning 
while feeding upon the elderberries or while busy around 
a sheltered water hole, but the usual method pursued 
by the few who systematically hunt them is to lie in con- 
cealment around a favorite haunt and pot them while sit- 
ting. 
They begin to come down into the valleys and about 
saltwater in late Mayor early June, and their first appear- 
ance is the signal for the onslaught by the pitiless pot- 
hunter. 
At this season the birds are nesting, as shown by the 
fact that a large percentage of those killed have their 
ovaries filled with immature eggs, and so the process of 
extermination, which is bad enough at any season, is 
rendered tenfold more effective by this early shooting. 
I am unable to state whether the pigeons here are a sur- 
vival of the innumerable hordes which swept over my 
early boyhood home in the valleys of the Appalachians, 
or whether or not they ever were here in greater num- 
bers. Judging, however, from the absence of reference 
to them by the old inhabitants whom I have interviewed, 
and from the fact that the kind and quantity of food 
which sustained such countless millions of their species 
in New York and Pennsylvania is not here for their uae, 
I am led to the conclusion that they were never much 
more numerous upon this portion of the Pacific coast than 
they are at present. 
That they cannot long survive the destructive methods 
of the market hunter is only too apparent in their rapidly 
diminishing numbers. 
May 9. — The slaughter of the pigeons has commenced. 
Out or nine which were brought into town to day and ex- 
amined by me, five were hens and were laying. The kill- 
ing will go on from this time until the next rainy season. 
The pigeon is afforded no protection by law, and it would 
not make much difference here anyway, as there is no 
attempt made to enforce the laws we have. 
J. A. Beebe, M. D. 
Tacoma, Wash., May 8. 
[Are these birds really the passenger pigeon (Ectopistes 
migratoria) or are they the band-tailed pigeon (Columba 
fasciaia)? The latter is a common West coast species, 
while the passenger pigeon is a bird of eastern North 
America, occurring only as a straggler in Nevada and 
Washington. The two birds are not very like, one be- 
longing to the genus Columba, having the tail much 
shorter than the wing, and composed of broad, obtuse 
feathers — as in the domestic pigeon — the passenger having 
a long tail equal to wings of narrow and pointed feathers. 
The difference between the shape of the two tails is that 
between the common ground dove and the domestic 
pigeon. The band-tailed pigeon is purplish red in color, 
with white half collar, white belly and a black bar across 
the tail. The passenger is slaty blue, with some small 
black spots above, changing to reddish on neck and below. 
If the passenger pigeon really occurs in Washington and 
in such numbers as stated by our correspondent, the fact 
is very interesting and ougbt to be established beyond 
question.] 
NATIONAL ZOOLOGICAL PARK NOTES. 
It will be remembered that last February we mentioned 
the case of a female Virginia deer in the National Zoologi- 
cal Park at Washington, whose leg had been broken in 
two places by a vicious male of the same species. The 
leg was set as well as possible by Head Keeper Black- 
burne, and when we saw her last February the doe was 
doing well. She is still further improved, and except for 
a little lameness, which she shows when running, her 
condition seems very nearly perfect. It is hoped that she 
will produce twins this month, as usual. The especia I 
factor in the recovery of this female was her amiable dis 
position. She is as tame and gentle as could be, and 
it is this gentleness which has pulled her through. 
When we visited the park last winter there were two 
large buffalo bulls, kept in an inclosure on top of the hill. 
Each of these bulls had at different times in the past been 
the master of the herd, and each had been defeated and 
had given way to a stronger and younger one. So they 
lived together in this small inclosure apart from the other 
buffalo, and got along very well together. The younger 
one seemed quite willing to keep out of the way of the old 
one until March 28 last. A nod from the old bull was the 
usual signal for the younger one to step aside; but this day 
he refused to do so, and returning the nod stood fast. 
The older bull tried to drive him, and their heads went 
together with a tremendous thump. Keeper Blackburne, 
who was not far away, saw in a moment that the younger 
bull was the most active and the stronger of the two, and 
that the old bull waB no match for him, and the old bull 
realized the fact almost at once, and turned and ran. The 
younger one, however, kept after him, and, whenever he 
chose, drove him against the fence with terrific force, 
knocking the old one down eight different times, and rip- 
ping him at will when he was down. 
Every effort was made to stop the fight, but for some 
time it was impossible to drive the young bull away. 
Finally, however, he left the old one for dead, and made 
proud by his victory went to fighting with the other 
buffalo through the fence. Keeper Blackburne then man- 
aged to get the old bull on his feet and pushed him into 
the house, where he died half an hour later. Three of his 
ribs were broken, one lung was punctured, and his body 
was a mass of rips and bruises from his shoulders to his 
hips on both sides. The other bull showed no marks of 
the fight whatever. 
The large black-maned lion which was in the Park died 
not long ago from a rupture of a blood vessel. 
Black Foxes. 
The Chignecto, N. B., Post records that last autumn 
Edward Sonier, of College Bridge, bought of an Indian 
two young foxes, a male and female. He had them cared 
for during the winter and the pair became perfectly 
domesticated. Two weeks ago the vixen presented her 
owner with four young cubs, all perfectly black. 
The Forbst and Stream is put to press each week on Tuesday 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach us at the 
latest by Monday, and as much earlier a* practicable . 
BEAVER WORKING AT DAM BUILDING. 
Photo by E. Hofer. 
