472 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 13, 1896. 
SNAKES AGAIN. 
To the Editor-in-Chief: 
Worthy Sir — In the words of Malvolio, "You have 
done me wrong — notorious wrong !" inasmuch and where- 
as somewhat more than a year ago I forwarded you a 
most humane disquisition, an authentic and conscientious 
extract from experience and contemplation. This con- 
tribution to your annals, after reciting specifically, con- 
cluded with references and allusions to snakes, partic- 
ularly rattlesnakes, and finally to snakes generally; and 
whereas, 
After decapitating and dividing the disquisition afore- 
said, with the freedom of your autocratic nature and 
dominion, you printed in these columns the preamble 
and plot thereof, and then, sir, after holding the sum- 
mary and conclusion of my contribution aforesaid in 
captivity and durance for over a year; you turned it also 
loose through these parallels, your medium, upon human- 
ity at large; 
And whereas, this severed portion of the narrative 
(after the manner of narratives severed from the very 
subjects of all this matter) wriggled, sir, wriggled and 
squirmed and did not die; and 
Whereas, this mutilated specimen of a barbarous usage 
attracted the eye of the ever alert and condign personage 
who asserteth himself to be the high, orthodox, ancient 
and most potent snake editor of these demesnes, and who 
subscribeth Coahoma, 
Now, therefore, the snake editor uncoileth in his wrath, 
after the manner of the subjects of his charge, and bruis- 
eth my heel ; he striketh blindly, but his fangs are keen, 
and he is wise like his serpents, and he is not to be dis- 
turbed rashly. But, sir, he becometh aggressive, and 
there is enmity betwixt him and me ; and, as appeareth 
even in the Scriptures, he bruiseth my heel, and I shall 
bruise his head; 
Therefore, whereas and moreover, and inasmuch as 
you, as dictator in this realm, are not altogether blame- 
less for these things, I pray you to withdraw and let me 
get at him. 
Sir, your sincere but injured petitioner affixeth his 
hand and seal. Ransacker. 
To Coahoma, Patron and Protector of Snakes: 
Wise and Subtle Sir — By your recent and sinuous 
movement our natural antipathies are aroused. There is 
war betwixt ye and me. Incidentally, and while roam- 
ing in the byways of nature, our common heritage, I trod 
upon or disturbed your hidden coil. You immediately 
assume the aggressive, strike and inoculate me with 
< venom. Smarting with the punctures you make, 1 turn 
upon you, therefore perpend and beware! 
You resort to your proverbial attribute, wisdom, as well 
as fangs, in defense of your wards, the snakes; you quote 
from authority as ancient as iEsop himself; you wield the 
invincible argument of example and personal observation; 
you appeal to sympathy, reason and judgment; you array 
before us the fundamental ethics of natural conditions; 
you smirch me with accusation , scorch me with philosophy, 
stigmatize me with imputation, calumniate me with refer- 
ences and allusions to suspicion, treachery and crime itself. 
In short, sir, you handle words with artistic skill. 
But, sir, you excuse the imperfections and shortcomings 
of your clients, snakes, by endeavoring to pull down the 
entire "fabric of mundane life" to the level of reptiles 
that grovel on the earth and glide from cranny to crevice, 
hole to hole, and shrub to flower in the moBt abject and 
despicable attitude assumed by any living creature. We 
might forgive them the misfortune of their physical 
modes of existence and style of locomotion could we de- 
tect in them a single redeeming trait or noble attribute. 
There is no trite comparison to be made between the ser- 
pent and the winged and fearless fowls or pirates of the 
air; he has nothing in common with the noble American 
bird, the gobbler; my affectionate friend, the cat, is one 
of the domestic and adopted dumb friends of man, cher- 
ished for ages of fidelity, and the serpent has no trait of 
his save his meanest — treachery to his victims. Truly, the 
snake has no affinity in or for any creature but the reptile 
family; no love for anything, no aspirations above the 
dust of the earth, and, in the selfish estimation of man, 
he is neither valuable, beneficial nor ornamental. 
Sir Coahoma, you assign mercy to be the distinguishing 
characteristic of man. So be it. It is a most godlike 
and virtuous attribute — an attribute Shakespeare has ap- 
plied to "God himself." But in the economy of nature — 
in the eternal or universal strife for existence — I say it is 
impossible for anything of life to obtain and be uniformly 
merciful or immaculate. Life of one means destruction 
to many. The whole problem is embraced in the theory 
of the "survival of the fittest." 
While nature is seemingly conservative or her final 
result or tendency is beyond our comprehension, who is 
to solve the problem but man himself — whom we con- 
ceive to be the highest in intelligence — the lord of crea- 
tion? We are sweeping the American Indians from the 
earth, from their native and natural domain; beasts of 
the continent have been and are being annihilated in our 
ursurpation of their haunts and homes; fowls of the air, 
the denizens of ocean itself, are being decimated to sup- 
ply our needs or greeds; nay, creatures of our own kind 
are dying by thousands for lack of sustenance and before 
the immutable law. 
While these conditions are evident and indisputable, I 
clasp hands with you for merciful sympathy for every 
living creature. I stand with you in denouncing and de- 
testing any man or being who (or that) wantonly destroys 
the life given by the great Creator of the universe. I 
think the wanton and deliberate destruction of life by 
man one of his most despicable vices, and that he who 
would murder a robin in mere viciousnees would murder 
men or babes if he dared. 
Coahoma, you accuse me unreasonably of "unreasoning 
prejudice," for I do not, never did and never shall either 
"kill all the, snakes that come in my way" nor advocate 
the wanton destruction of anything of life. When I am 
forced to strike for the "survival of the fittest" I will use 
the best judgment and reason I have. If a poisonous rep- 
tile threatens what I consider a worthier creature, or 
one more valuable to higher things, I will kill him if I 
can; but will do it because there seems to be no more 
humane method of abolishing an ^vil. I have had to con- 
tend with some rattlesnakes for my own safety. I kill 
them at sight. 
In conclusion let me say: "We grope, Coahoma, we 
grope." Our boasted humanity itself is founded on the 
principles of our own feeble conceptions. There is little 
at most that "is either good or ill but thinking makes it 
so." We can learn to love or hate. You and I only clash 
because we worship at the same shrine — the same incom- 
prehensible and sometimes, as appears to us, inconstant 
Dame. Notwithstanding her coquettish moods she im- 
proves upon acquaintance. We "spy entertainment in 
her; she casts the leer of invitation; she discourses, she 
NEST OF RUFFED GROUSE. 
Photo by Mr. G. HIUs. 
carves." "Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale." 
Familiarity with her does not breed contempt, but increas- 
ine reverence. 
Eecall your verdict of "unreasoning prejudice" and I 
hereby revoke my allusion to snakes having "slimy folds." 
I admit the error. But with all deference let me say, I 
would send all the serpents on my ranch down to you of 
Mississippi if I could c jrral 'em and pay the freight. 
Ransacker. 
PHOTOGRAPHING A SITTING GROUSE. 
Mr. G-. Hills, of Hudson, N. Y., sends us the accom- 
panying admirable photographs of a ruffed grouse nest 
and the hen on the nest. He incloses with them an inter- 
view written by Mr. Horace B. Derby, of the Albany 
Argus, which we quote; Mr. Hills tells us that of the thir- 
teen eggs in the nest all but one were hatched: 
"Mr. Granville Hills, of Hudson, is one of those rare 
sportsmen whose love of all that pertains to field, covert 
and woodland is such that he takes delight in 'hunting 
without a gun,' his favorite weapon being a camera with 
which he makes the most unerring shots at the denizens 
of the tangled swamps and thorny coverts, and his game 
RUFFED OROUSE CN NKST. 
Photo by Mr. O. HIUs. 
bag a portfolio that contains the proofs of his prowess in 
the form of many exquisite examples of photographic art. 
"Mr. Hills's efforts, for many years, have been especially 
directed to the photographing of wild birds on their nests, 
and several seasons ago he actually succeeded in getting 
a capital picture of a sitting woodcock, a full account of 
which, with a description of the picture, was given in 
this department of the Argus at the time. Since then, 
with the return of every breeding season, Mr. Hills has 
been unceasing in his efforts to get a picture of that pride 
of the upland covert, a ruffed grouse, in the performance 
of the duties of incubation. Repeated disappointments 
that would utterly have disheartened any but this enthusi- 
ast seemed only to spur him to renewed effort, and last 
Tuesday the undaunted fellow came to see me at my desk, 
bearing the long-coveted picture in his hand. 
"The picture is one that will appeal to the heart of any 
lover of the wild wood folk, for it shows a hen grouse on 
her nest in the tangle of a jungle-like bit of covert, and 
in the lower left-hand corner of the photograph appears 
a tiny auxiliary picture of the nest and its precious freight 
of eggs. In answer to my eager inquiries as to how he 
obtained the photograph, Mr. Hills related the story of 
the strange and novel quest, which I will give my readers 
as nearly as possible in his own words: 
" 'The nest of the ruffed grouse shown in the picture,' 
said he, 'was found in a piece of low, swampy covert, 
situated in the town of Glencoe, Columbia county, about 
nine miles from the city of Hudson. The nest was placed 
within a few feet of the wagon-track of a lane leading to 
a farmer's house, off the main road about an eighth of a 
mile. This nest was first discovered on May 16 by the 
farmer driving cattle along the lane, when his collie dog 
flushed the grouse, and suspecting that it was a sitting 
bird the farmer looked for a nest, and the precious prize 
was found. The nest then had twelve eggs in it. The 
same evening, going to pasture for the cows, he saw the 
hen sitting on her nest. The following morning, return- 
ing the cows to pasture, the farmer noted that the grouse 
was absent, but an investigation of the nest showed that 
there were thirteen eggs in it. 
Photographing the Mother Grouse. 
' ' 'On Sunday, May 17, the farmer sent word to me of 
the discovery of the nest, but the next few days being 
unfavorable for the takinar of photographs I did not visit 
the spot until the 21st. On the latter day, accompanied 
by Mr. Samuel Rowles, an expert with the camera in all 
field work, I drove directly to the nest, which was plainly 
visible from the carriage, but the noise of our arrival did 
not Beem to startle the bird, for she did not move. Took 
the horse to the farmer's stable, returned and set up 
camera. Walked up to within 10ft. of the nest and, fear- 
ing that a nearer approach could not be made, took a 
snap shot at that distance; then moved up about 5ft. 
nearer and got the negative, the print of which you have 
before you. The bird now became alarmed and flew 
away, and then, without changing the position of the 
camera, we photographed the eggs. We waited for the 
bird's return until 6:15 P. M., and, fearing to keep her 
from her nest too long, we decided to postpone further 
effort for the time. Furthermore, we had some misgiv- 
ings as to how our work would pan out and we were 
anxious to develop the plates. This was done on our 
arrival home as expeditiously as possible, and we found, 
to our huge satisfaction, that we had three good, sharp 
negatives. The one I show you of the grouse on her nest 
is the result of the second shot, and the group of eggs of 
the third. 
'"It is human to crave better results than even those 
obtained from earnest effort, and nothing would satisfy 
us but another trial; so we planned to go to the grouse 
bower the next morning at break o' day, thinking that a 
better light might be afforded at Bunrise for our work 
than on the previous occasion. Four o'clock in the cold 
gray of the morning saw us en route for the swamp, and 
on our arrival we found Madame Grouse at home, quiet 
and happy, attending strictly to her efforts to bring about 
maternal responsibilities. The two good negatives we 
had previously obtained were taken at short range, and 
this emboldened us to make an effort to get a shot at still 
closer quarters. At length, by careful maneuvering, we 
managed to set the camera within 3ft. of the nest, had it 
well focused, but when ready to press the button the 
bird sprang from the nest and away she went. Other 
duties would not allow us to make a day of it in the 
swamp and we returned home. 
" 'On Saturday, May 23, we went again to the swamp, 
and in the cool shades prepared to spend the day, and the 
night also, if necessary. Found Madame at home, sur- 
rounded by a fierce and bloodthirsty bodyguard of midges 
and mosquitoes. The latter seemed to recognize in Sam a 
tenderfoot and interloper, and went in to score him un- 
mercifully. They swarmed upon him at all vulnerable 
points, but he managed to set up the camera, though the 
work was sadly hampered by the wild whacks he show- 
ered upon his tormentors It was then ju3t 2:10 P. M. 
All was ready for a successful shot when a mosquito, 
which Sam declares was armed with a gimlet, darted at 
the half-crazed photographer's nose. The puncture the 
little devil made in Sam's proboscis was so keen and car- 
ried so much fire with it that the victim forgot his 
caution and made a crack at the enemy that might have 
demolished a wooden Indian. The wild movement of 
Sam's fluke and the resounding slap that reverberated 
through the silent glade like a pistol shot proved too much 
for the nerves of the timorous dame, and she lit out like a 
flash. 
" 'We waited fully an hour for the grouse to return, 
while Sam nursed his wounds with one hand and fought 
his tormentors with the other, but the bird came not. As 
I had noted the direction she had taken, I walked around 
on the further side of the swamp and in less than three 
minutes flushed the bird, which at once flew back to the 
location of her nest. But she evidently dreaded another 
exhibition of the fearful antics of Sammy, for she would 
not go on the nest, and after vainly waiting for her re- 
occupation of the premises until 5:45 P. M. we gave up in 
despair, packed the kit in the carriage and started for home. 
" 'As we drove sadly away we thought to take a last look 
at the nest, and lot there sat the grouse. There was an 
immediate unpacking of the equipment and hurried 
preparations made- for another shot, but when we at- 
tempted to invade the sanctity of her woodland bower 
the bird again took wing, and we abandoned the task for 
good and all. 
" 'In my efforts to secure a photograph of a nesting grouse 
I have engaged in a faithful search of various covert in 
Columbia county for three years. Each season I have 
found a nest of this royal game bird, and have gone early 
and late to where it was cannily hidden by the mother 
grouse, devoting a vast amount of time to the search and 
the securing of the prize, and employing every device I 
could think of to circumvent this wild and wary dweller 
in the shadowy depths of the woodland dells.' " 
Ring-necked Pheasants for Canada. 
Macomb, 111., May 28.- -Editor Forest and Stream: I 
received a letter to-day from Mr. H. P. D wight, game 
warden at Toronto, stating he had seen an article in the 
Forest and Stream, written by myself, on the Mongolian 
pheasant. The Government has set apart eighteen town- 
ships for a game preserve; they propose to stock it with 
these beautiful pheasants, and he asks where the birds 
can be had for this purpose. I am truly glad to see the 
Canadian Government taking such an interest in intro- 
ducing these beautiful game birds. I hope the State of 
Maine — which is the finest game State in the Union — will 
take a hand in this enterprise. Why should not Maine 
establish a game park for her large game where it can be 
protected? They have the beautiful lakes, meadows and 
timber — in fact, they have everything to encourage such 
a movement. W. O, Blaisdell. 
