June 30, 1896.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
493 
any little ones, I should like to know what sort of food to 
give them while they are very young, and I thought some 
of your readers would be kind enough to give me the in- 
formation. A. G. Ferguson. 
[Feed your young quail, if any are hatched, on finely 
chopped hard boiled eggs for the first week, gradually 
adding to this fine bird seed, a little oatmeal and a little 
corn meal. You might try them with prepared mocking- 
bird food, and if you can do so give them ants' eggs. 
They need a fair quantity of animal food, which you can 
hardly obtain in attractive form in the city. Give us the 
results of your efforts.] 
The Bluebirds. 
Denver, Col.— The bluebirds (Arctic) reached here this 
year Feb. 25, a week or ten days late. They were very 
plentiful for a while. A few days later there was a sharp 
snowstorm and the birds gathered about the houses— at 
least about mine. I counted at one time from a window 
upon the shrubbery at one side of the house fifty-four 
bluebirds, and they seemed about equally plentiful on all 
sides of the house. As spring advanced they scattered 
to the mountains. Only one pair, I think, nested upon 
my premises. The robins came two or three days later. 
Wii, N. Byers. 
Oro, "Washington, June 1.— I presume the bluebirds 
here are S. articita, as the males are all very blue. They 
are quite numerous around the mill now and I have 
noticed a number going into holes in trees; I think they 
hatch here. Lew Wilhot. 
Ithaca, N, Y.— I have tried to be alert and thorough 
in my search for the bluebirds, but thus far I have failed 
to observe a single specimen. In April I heard of one 
now and then, but I fear they have again avoided us. 
Orioles are more numerous than I have noted them in a 
decade. The finches, sparrows, larks and grackles are 
with us numerously, as usual. A recent visit to Lansing, 
Mich., convinces me that nearly, if not quite, all the birds 
familiar to western and central New York are to be found 
in and about the beautiful Capital City in goodly num- 
bers. But the bluebird abideth not there, apparently. 
M. Chill, 
The Distribution of the Bobolink. 
Englewood, N, J., June 6. -Editor Forest and Stream: 
Twenty years ago bobolinks were abundant summer resi- 
dents in this vicinity. Now they occur only as spring 
and fall migrants, and for the past fifteen years I have not 
seen them during the breeding season. Whether their 
disappearance is purely local I cannot say, but the nearest 
nesting bobolinks I know of are distant about ten miles 
iiorth of this place, on the New York— New Jersey State 
line. The cause of their disappearance is simply a matter 
of conjecture. The Killing of immense numbers of these 
birds as reed birds or rice birds each fall by gunners and 
rice growers may have had some effect on the species as 
a whole, but the result would not be likely to be evident 
locally. Their decrease may be due to trapping during 
the mating season. I have heard a New York denier in 
cage birds say that he received about 600 bobolinks from 
Long Island every spring. Or, as in the case of the dick- 
cissel, it may be due to some more far-reaching and ob- 
scure cause. At any rate, the subject seems of sufficient 
interest and importance to warrant a call for information 
on the present distribution of our bobolinks, in order that 
subsequent changes may become more apparent and per- 
haps intelligible. I hope, therefore, that your correspond- 
ents will record any pertinent notes they may have, 
Frank M. Chapman. 
Band-Tailed Pigeons. 
The question which recently came up as to the occur- 
rence in Washington and in British Columbia of the pas- 
senger pigeon (Ectopistes migratoria) appears to have been 
jettled by the notes, printed last week, from Dr. Beebe 
and from Mr. John Fannin, curator of the Provincial 
Museum at Victoria, B. C. These contributions are to 
the effect that the wild pigeons referred to by Dr. Beebe 
were, as we suggested in a note appended to Dr. Beebe's 
original inquiry, the band- tailed pigeon (Columbafasci- 
ata). If further confirmation were needed it may be 
found in a skin of one of the birds, kindly sent on to us 
oy Dr. Beebe, which is that of a male band-tailed pigeon. 
This species occurs commonly on the west coast of North 
imenca from British Columbia south to the highlands of 
Guatemala. 
jfcfif* §xg %nd §mu 
AFTER TWENTY YEARS. 
Nearly everyone has heard more or less of the wonder- 
ul purity of the air in the West; how fresh meat can be 
eft banging for weeks and remain pure and sweet, and 
low a barrel of water left standing exposed to the air 
ccumulates no foul matter or "wigglers," such as take 
loesession of water left so exposed in an Eastern climate, 
feny claim that the purity of the air out there accounts 
or the fact of such a preponderance of honest statesmen 
ailing from the West. Be that as it may, the following 
liustrates the wonderful qualities of this air better than 
ny authentic account I have yet seen. 
In the winter of 1873-74, in company with three others, 
was camped on the Middle Loup River, in Nebraska^ 
pell up toward the mouth of the Dismal. Our occupa- 
ion was hunting. We had a comfortable camp of red 
edar logs and plenty of dry cedar logs to keep our fire 
napping and glowing. Late in the winter our occupa- 
lon grew to be nine-tenths sleeping, eating and playing 
even-up, with an occasional trip into the hills after elk, 
leer or antelope to keep up our fresh meat supply. 
Along in the early part of the winter one of the boys 
lad killed a huge whitetail buck, the largest I ever saw. 
The flesh of this old fellow was very tough and we kept 
ton hand to use when there was nothing else in camp 
£id to give to farmers who came up from the settlements 
I hundred miles below to have an outing and get a load 
if meat. These people invariably struck our camp en- 
irely out of provisions, and we would not only feed them 
vhile they stayed, but provision them for the return trip. 
Toward spring the carcass of the old buck had been 
wasn away until only the; neck was left, and that was 
so tough that human ingenuity could reduce it no 
further. 
One evening just before sundown a party of farmers 
drove up to our camp, and as was usual with this kind, 
they were out of provisions. We fed and lodged them, 
and when they left supplied them with flour and coffee, 
and for meat gave them the piece of neck. 
Across - the river and some four miles away was an- 
other camp like ours— out for the winter. The farmers 
went from ours to this camp, and as it chanced found 
them out of meat, and out of their abundance (as they 
claimed) gave them a piece, the neck, and went on their 
way rejoicing. Some two weeks later a party arrived at 
the camp across the river from the lower regions, as we 
called the settlements, and they too were out of provi- 
sions. On leaving their acquired stock consisted of flour, 
coffee and buck's neck. 
From that camp the outfit came directly over to ours. 
They arrived just before supper and we were obliged to 
apologize for being out of meat. They promptly volun- 
teered the meat and produced the neck. I recognized 
the old fellow in an instant, and taking it passed out as if 
to slice some for cooking. Luck was on my side, for as I 
stepped through the door I espied one of the boys who 
had been out hunting just coming down the canon with 
the tenderloin of a fine young black-tail buck he had 
killed. Going to meet him, I posted him to keep still and 
sliced the tenderloin for supper. 
It was comical to see the look of wonder on the faces 
of our guests as they tasted the juicy steak, but they did 
not dare to give themselves away; and I think it must be 
a wonder to them yet how the thing was done. 
On breaking camp in the spring we left the piece of 
neck on the chopping block, and until this year, 1896, I 
have never revisited the place. 
This spring fate, with her sails set for distant climes, 
took me on board and carried me into that neighborhood 
and I took a "stop-over" for a couple of hours and revis- 
ited the old camp ground. I had a grand time visiting 
with those wrinkled old hills. The spot seemed hallowed 
to me, and as I wandered about many scenes and adven- 
tures in which I had been a prominent actor came drift- 
ing by on the flood tide of memory. I gazed long at the 
mouth of the canon out of which came the first elk I ever 
drew bead on. That elk may be alive yet for all I know 
to the contrary. 
Wandering from the camp site, I follow up a divide to 
the south and east down which I have tramped through 
the gloaming many a night in the long ago, returning 
from the day's hunt. A mile and a half from the camp 
site I climb up and out on to what I used to call the table 
basin. 
The table is about 300ft. above the level of the creels, 
a mile to the west, and contains 400 or 500 acres of fine 
land. The land is all under cultivation now, though 
there are no buildings on it, the buildings being down 
near the creek, where water is more accessible. At the 
south end of the table is where I had laid my first elk 
low. 
From there I made my way far to the westward to the 
scene of my most signal success in all my hunting experi- 
ences. As I approach the place I come upon a deserted 
frame house standing on a level piece of ground, where a 
huge canon widens out into some semblance of a valley. 
Here some wanderer from the East had settled with his 
little family, built his house and planted trees, laying out 
his grounds and preparing the soil for crops, with fond 
hopes of future peace and plenty; but alas, for his ex- 
pectations! he was a little too far out of the rain belt and 
after years of trial was obliged to leave his little all and 
seek a more favored clime. 
I seated myself on the deserted doorstep and pictured 
to myself some of the labors, hopes and despairs this set- 
tler must have undergone. The spirit of the departed 
settler (departed East to live with his wife's father) hov- 
ered near and whispered tales of privation into my sym- 
pathetic ear, and then the wheels of time turned back 
another decade; the doorstep crumbles away beneath me 
and I find myself lying prone on the prairie— not in a val- 
ley, but on a hill. The air, which had been sultry all 
day, has suddenly become cool and invigorating; the sun, 
which last instant was halfway down the western slope, 
is now just peeping above the eastern horizon, casting its 
first glint of gold across the frost-bejeweled blue stem. 
But what is this awkward yet familiar looking thing I 
am holding in front of me? It is evidently a gun, the 
stock of which extends nearly to the end of the barrel, 
and is held in place by three iron bands. It has a huge 
hammer, underneath which a curious little lever is 
locked. Ah! I see, it is my old .50-70 needle gun. 
Yes, and just across the canon on the next hill, 150yds. 
away, his red sides ablaze in the morning sun, stands a 
huge elk. Just now, too, I hear the rattle of horns and 
realize there are more of them in the canon below, two of 
whom are settling some difference of opinion according 
to the code. 
How I would like to be up where I could look over the 
wall at them. But I am as far as I can go in that direc- 
tion without being discovered by the old fellow on the 
hill, so I content myself with taking a good look at him 
and then leveling the needle gun on him and pulling the 
trigger. 
I hear the bullet spat on the elk's rib3, emitting a sound 
much as if he had been struck with a barrel stave. I see 
him flinch, even at that distance, and then he turns his 
head slowly toward me as if to reproach for the pain I 
have caused; then, without warning, his legs suddenly 
shoot into the air and he is down. 
The rest (there proved to be six of them) run down the 
canon a couple of hundred yards and come out on a small 
knoll, where they stop to take observations. I get in 
several shots before they conclude to move on. What 
happens after is a confused jumble of running and shoot- 
ing. 
Accurately to describe it would be as impossible as for 
one to look at the monuments on the Custer battlefield 
and then accurately describe the battle. When I come to 
myself I am three miles from the starting point and have 
three elk down, the last with seven bullets in his carcass 
and brought to earth by the last cartridge in my posses- 
sion. I immediately hasten back to camp to get the boys 
to help dress the game, but alas! ere I reach it, time has 
resumed her normal flight and I find the boys and the 
camp, like the Indian's stove after he has kindled his fire 
with gunpowder, "A heap gone." 
Wandering around the camp ground I fell to searching 
for relics. The logs of the cabin had long since been re- 
moved by settlers, and the only thing to mark the spot 
is a depression where the cellar was, though I could have 
located the place from the lay of the ground. The only 
thing I had that seems to belong to the "old days" is the 
hull of a Spencer rifle cartridge; this I know to have been 
fcred from the gun of that make I attempted to use when 
1 farst came out here. The extractors of this gun had a 
habit of taking a piece out of the hull and leaving it 
sticking in the gun. The hull I find is so marked and I 
am satisfied. 
Down on the bank of the stream I come to the place 
where the old chopping block stood. The block has 
completely rotted away; there is only a reddish cast in 
the soil from the fiber of rottening wood to mark tho 
spot; and yes, there is something else, 'tis that piece of 
neck, seemingly in as good repair as when I left it there 
twenty years ago. 
I examine it and find it sweet and tough, as the broken 
blade of my jack knife will testify. In a circle round the 
center I find the skeletons of fifteen wolves, each with 
nose pointed to the center. The story of their sad fate 
was plamly audible; they had starved to death trying to 
get a meal off that neck. 
Now when anything new or wonderful is discovered or 
told there is sure to be some "Doubting Thomas" who 
shouts fake or humbug; but any such can have their 
doubts subdued, for on application I will send my broken 
jack knife to be inspected by any one. 
No communication will be noticed unless money is in- 
closed to pay freight both ways. E. P, Jaques. 
Gbnesko, HI. 
CHICAGO AND THE WEST. 
The Ways of Some Wardens. 
Chicago, III , June 6.— A business man of Chicago 
writes to call attention to the manner in which the game 
warden of Iron county, Wis., is discharging his official 
duties. The gentleman states that he has direct informa- 
tion that this warden found a party, including a Mr. Cald- 
well and guide, in possession of muscallonge while in 
camp on Fisher or Cedar Lake during the early part of 
May, and proceeded to read a warrant for their arrest, 
but compromised the matter with them directly on the 
payment of $75. This warden is a saloon-keeper in the 
town of Mercer. It is said that some of the county 
officers of Iron county enjoyed considerable good muscal- 
longe fishing during the last two weeks of the closed 
season. But I fail to understand the comment of my in- 
formant, who says, "There is more or less excuse for this, 
as nearly everyone in the district feels that the closed 
season should end on the 10th of May." It would be very 
convenient to break a good many laws which do not suit 
us personally, but if we followed out this idea we would 
have no laws at all, and no fish at all. 
Mr. Chauncey M. Powers, of Decatur, 111., is not strictly 
happy over the result of the little attempt on his part to 
do some game protection. Mr. Powers and his brother 
had noticed many violations of the duck law at Spring 
Lake, III., this spring, and wrote to Warden Blow to 
learn what he could do in the way of stopping them. 
Warden Blow replied that for the sum of $30 he would go 
to Spring Lake and stay for a number of days and clean 
up all the violators. The $30 was sent him, but apparently 
fell into the middle of a deep silence. The duck season 
has passed and spring has merged into summer, but no 
Blow and no $30 has yet appeared in the vicinity of 
Spring Lake. Not this spring, but perhaps some other 
spring. 
Bird Lime. 
Justice Smith this week fined S. Derling and H. Borein- 
ger $5 and costs, each for trapping song birds by means of 
bird lime. They were using a sticky substance which 
they placed on twigs about the nests of the song birds, 
thus taking them when they alighted near the nest. The 
justice told the men that if they resumed their industry 
he would fine them $100. 
The Mills of the Gods. 
For wisdom and justice in large solid chunks, apply at 
the office of a country justice of the peace when a game 
law case is before him. A recent instance at Elgin, 111., 
may be cited. Mr. Fargo, of Chicago, had lost overboard 
a fine Westley Richards gun in the Fox River at that 
point, and employed some net fishermen there to recover 
it for him. Tne men took a seine and went fishing for 
the gun, which they are said to have recovered early in 
the evening. Yet they continued seining until 1 o'clock 
in the taorning, at which time they were caught by 
Warden Blow. The justice before whom the case was 
brought discharged the men on the ground that they 
were still seining for the gun, from force of habit. 
National Park Buffalo. 
Mr. John W. Cowan, of Butte, Mont., who is in the 
city this week, says that he thinks the herd of National 
Park buffalo is about wiped out. He believes this from 
reports which have come to him from south and west of 
the Park. Mr. Cowan and others are making strenuous 
efforts to stop the slaughter of deer in the Flathead coun- 
try. He says that 7,000 deer were killed there in one 
winter, two years ago. 
From Cincinnati. 
Mr. W. W. Peabody, Jr., manager of the coal traffic of 
the B. & O. Southwestern Ry., spent part of the week in 
Chicago. He states that he has become a fisherman be- 
sides a field shooter, and recently had a good take of baas 
in the White River of Indiana. It may be remembered 
that Mr. Peabody was the head of the special car party 
whose doings in Texas, winter before last, were recorded 
in the Forest and Stream, He Bays that the paru must 
unite next winter for another trip to the same country. 
From Texas. 
Mr. O. C. Guessaz writes from San Antonio, Texas and 
gives some facts in regard to the canvasback situation at 
Lake Surprise, near Galveston. He states that banker 
Moody, of Galveston, had eight market hunters hired last 
season to shoot for him on the canvasback grounds of 
which he has gained control. One of these hunters 
writes to Mr. Guessaz that last winter he killed 5 000 can 
vasbacks to his own gun. Credible information also 
c ^ m ^ 1 fr ? m - :i ?' Gues8a 2 tha * banker Moody cleared up 
$7,800 last winter as profit on his market shooting. H- & 
