Nov. 8, 18M.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
377 
been making himself more conspicuous than the occasion 
required. Nick's wrath served a good turn — for Ponto; 
it being bo excessive that his aim was again disturbed. 
Since then, whenever Nick refers to this incident he ex- 
presses his forcible opinion of that "blank fool dog." 
Noon found us all in camp again; the usual hearty meal, 
a short rest, and then for the final afternoon's sport with 
leader and fly. The fishing suffered by comparison with 
what it was two days earlier; but it was good enough, and 
that evening, with what we already had, we each packed 
a basket full to be taken home on the morrow. Tom had 
caught a trout half again larger than the largest taken 
by any of the rest, and was, therefore, the hero of the 
hour, 
The cub had been kept in a sack in a cool place, and had 
hot yet been divested of his best suit of clothes, it having 
been our desire to take him home as he was; but upon ex- 
amination that evening we found he would not stand the 
test, so I set about securing his dress suit in such a man" 
ner as would permit of its being mounted whole if we so 
wished later. We were all in the best of spirits, many 
and earnest were the expressions regarding the enjoyable 
features of the trip, and as the skinning process progressed 
by the light of that ever-burning big camp-fire, the cub 
and its slayer were made the butt of numerous jokes, 
which, however, did not have any possible effect on the 
cub. If he saw the point of any one of them he did not 
mention the fact. 
After a time the conversation turned to the particular 
attitude that when mounted would be most befitting its 
peculiar style of beauty. A number of different postures 
were spoken of, but at last the one suggested by the irre- 
pressible Tom was determined on, and that was — "Fall- 
ing out of a tree, yelping, and eating huckleberries." 
(The taxidermist when interviewed in this regard, agreed 
to the attitude, provided we should furnish the "yelp" 
and the huckleberries.) Divers huckleberries have since 
been discovered that might be made to answer, but up to 
date we have failed to corral the required yelp, and the 
cub is still in statu quo. 
Scarcely was the next morning's meal dispensed with 
when Corn appeared with the horses, and we were soon 
homeward bound. We reached Lothrop in due time, and 
five o'clock that Saturday evening the home station after 
a week of unalloyed enjoyment. 
Summary: Finest weather, most pleasant of camps, a 
bear (?), a deer, birds enough, trout galore, a jolly party, 
and who could consistently ask for a better outing, espe- 
cially in a place where there were "no birds" and where 
the stream had been "fished to death" ? Will Cave. 
Missoula, Montana. 
Jfa&ap/ ffistorg. 
THE TEXAS BUFFALO HERD. 
The present indications are that it may be several 
months before the herd of wild buffalo which were dis- 
covered last spring in the wilds of Val Verde county, will 
be rounded up and brought into captivity. 
The expedition which Dr. J. B. Taylor, the well-known 
ranchman, has about completed organizing, will probably 
not be called upon for some time, as an investigation 
which the Doctor has just made shows that the animals 
have wandered from their old feeding ground and are 
now across the river in Mexico. 
Dr. Taylor, in order to get the exact location of the herd 
before starting out with his expedition, left home several 
days ago and proceeded to Val Verde county, where he 
engaged the services of some veteran Mexican hunters 
and guides, and started in seai^ch of the herd. He found 
the valley in which they were discovered a few months 
ago without much difficulty, and then took up the trail 
of the animals. This trail, he states, was followed with- 
out difficulty, as it was made since the recent heavy rains. 
He and the Mexicans followed it out of the valley and 
through a mountain pass leading to the Rio Grande. The 
buffalo headed up that stream on the United States side, 
and were seen by a number of isolated settlers a few weeks 
ago as they passed along. One of these settlers, a Mexi- 
can named Gonzales, got a shot at the herd and killed one 
of the calves, the robe of which he kept and showed to 
Dr. Taylor and party as a trophy. According to the esti- 
mate of those who saw the herd, the number in it was 
about sixty, including about ten calves. 
The party followed the trail for many miles up the 
river until the herd crossed into Mexico. It was followed 
a short distance into that country, and as it was evident 
that the animals were still on the go and are now prob- 
ably in the Santa Rosa Mountains, the search was given 
up. Dr. Taylor rode across the country to Dryden, where 
he took the Southern Pacific train and returned to San 
Antonio. 
Immediately upon his arrival here he wired Hon. Geo. 
Fulton, of Gregory, to meet him in San Autonio for the 
purpose of discussing what steps had best be taken toward 
capturing the herd. Mr. Fulton, it will be remembered, 
saw this same herd of buffalo about four years ago, and 
since its rediscovery he has evinced great interest in hav- 
ing the animals rounded up and placed in captivity on 
Dr. Taylor's ranch in Sutton county. Mr. Fulton re- 
sponded promptly to the telegram, and he and the doctor 
met at the Sau Antonio Club Thursday, and held a pro- 
longed conference as to what should be done under the 
circumstances toward carrying out the objects of the pro- 
posed expedition. They decided that inasmuch as the 
expedition had been almost fully organized it would not 
be advisable to disband it, and that an effort should be 
made to obtain permission from the Mexican government 
to round up th.9 herd in that country and bring them into 
the United States. 
It will require some time to attend to this matter, and 
the representative of the Smithsonian Institute, and the 
other distinguished persons who have been selected to 
comprise the expedition will be immediately notified of" 
the situation. In the meantime. Mr. Fulton will get 
everything in shipshape, so far as equipment and supplies 
are concerned so that the party will have a pleasant and 
interesting time. 
Dr. Taylor left Thursday night for St. Louis, where he 
will consult some of the members of the party in regard to 
the details of the trip. Just previous to his departure he 
was met by a reporter for the Express and asked in re- 
gard to his recent search for the buffalo. 
•It is natural to suppose," said Dr. Taylor, "that these 
buffalo would not remain in that little valley in Val 
Verde county very long after rains come and grass and 
water become abundant. Buffalo are of a roving dis- 
position, and this herd has remained in that valley during 
the past four or five years on account of the severe drouth 
and the lack of water and grass elsewhere. As soon as 
the recent abundant rains came and water and grass 
could be obtained outside of the valley they took up their 
march and followed the course of the Rio Grande to the 
place where they crossed, some distance above their old 
stamping ground." — San Antonio Express, Oct. 6. 
A Michigan Pelican. 
Holland, Mich., Oct. 17. — I have just received at my 
taxidermic establishment for mounting, a large Ameri- 
can white pelican, which was shot six miles from here 
at Maratawa Park, Oct. 13, by J. H. Skinner of the Life 
Saving Station. The following card, written by one of 
the crew and describing the bird in nautical language, ac- 
companied the specimen: 
THE WHITE PELICAN. 
dimensions: 
Length over all, 5ft. 2in. 
Beam, 1ft. 
Centerboard, 3 "feet." 
Spread of canvas, 8ft. lOJ^in. 
Gross tonnage, 161ba. 
This card was printed by one of the local papers and in 
such a manner as to lead many to suppose that this was 
the usual way descriptions of birds are written by orni- 
thologists. The extent of the bird from tip to tip of wings, 
when I measured it, 24 hours after killing, was 8ft. 7in., 
but immediately after shooting it was said to measure 8ft. 
lOMn. The bill is 14in. long, wing24in., tail 6|in., tarsi 
5in., middle toe 5in. 
The story of the capture as told by two of the crew, is 
as follows: Frank Johnson, who first saw the bird from 
the lookout says: "I was looking out into Lake Michigan, 
when I saw a large bird in the distance, which I thought 
was a large gull. I watched it a while as it flew around, 
then looked at it through the glass, when I was struck by 
its large size and the immense bill. I called Mr. Skinner 
and we watched the bird until it alighted on the beach, 
when he shot it.- Had I known what it was I should have 
gone after it myself." 
J. H. Skinner says: "When I firstsaw the bird I knew 
it was something out of the ordinary and as soon as it set- 
tled on the shore I at once got my gun. The rest of the 
crew saw me and followed. I tried to keep them back, 
but as I did not tell them what I was after, they were 
bound to go with me. The pelican did not seem to be 
alarmed, for I walked right up to it, as there was no 
cover, and shot it, with one chargeof 5s as it arose from 
the beach." 
This is the first pelican ever captured in Ottawa county 
and only eight or ten have been killed in the State before. 
On Oct. 8, I secured from Wm. Van Ragenmoster, a 
female double-crested cormorant, and on the same day 
Harry R. Doesburg shot a female black scoter (Oidemia 
amerieana), a rare accidental visitor in Michigan. This 
bird was one of a flock of seven. I have secured and 
mounted these two birds for my own collection. I now 
have three double-crested cormorants which were killed 
in the county within a year, and probably will soon get 
the mate to my last bird as it is frequently seen where the 
male was shot. 
I am unable to secure the pelican for my collection. 
Arthur G. Baumgartel. 
A Novel Sparrow Trap. 
In one of the railroad yards in Oshkosh is a barrel sup- 
plied with a constant stream of water, the overflow escap- 
ing over the edges of the barrel. In winter this barrel is 
a great drinking resort for the English sparrows. Perched 
on the edge of the barrel their feet get wet, and when 
they fly from the barrel and alight on the iron rods 
of the freight cars, their feet are instantly frozen to the 
iron. O. H. Hampton. 
§mt[e §ng nr\d gun. 
MUD SKIS. 
Mud skis are thin boards 7ft. long and 6in. wide, turned 
up like sleigh runners at the front end, and have a toe 
strap at the middle to fasten them to the feet. I do not 
know who invented them, but who e^er he was he is 
probably buried in some muddy place where he trusted 
to the skis to carry him safely, and, too late, found them 
balky. 
The other day while I was shooting snipe and an oc- 
casional skulking mallard along the edge of Lake Poygan, 
most of the birds that were shot fell too far out on the 
mud to be got, and as there were a pair of these skis at 
the house I went back and got them. After trying them 
half an hour I thought they were a pretty good thing, for 
they kept on top of the mud where one could not walk 
without them. It is true they did not have the pleasant 
feel of a perfect fitting hand-sewed shoe, and their back 
ends interfered so often that I thought those straps must 
have been adjusted for some pigeon-toed man. There 
was some trouble, too, with the long stalks of wild rice, 
which was bent over at an angle of 45% and one ski in- 
sisted on running under it and the other one over it, to 
an extent that made it quite entangling at times. There 
was difficulty, too, about turning round at such times, 
one ski would get across the other in a very provoking 
manner. But on the whole, if one had to go, one could 
go with them where he could not go by any other means, 
though it happened that I trusted them too far. 
While crossing an unusually soft place a snipe arose on 
the left and was killed. I stood a few seconds marking 
where it fell, then one arose on the right, and when I 
tried to take out the empty shells both were stuck, and 
the extractor had to be used. By this time the skis had 
settled a foot deep into the mud, and every effort to pull 
one of them out only sank the other one deeper. These 
skis were a very forcible illustration of how the beavers 
keep a limb at the bottom of the pond, though I don't re- 
member thinking of this just at the time. 
I did think, though, that not long ago my wife had had 
a presentiment that I was not going to live till my next 
birthday, and now it might be verified, for there seemed 
little prospect for anything but to be smothered in that 
bottomless, thin mud, for there was no one in sight or 
hearing. The skis were slowly but steadily sinking, and 
in a few more minutes I would be hidden from the world. 
Taking the gun by the middle with my right hand I lay 
down on the mud, extending the gun as far as possible 
and laying it across the line I wished to follow. Pulling 
on the gun and pushing with the other hand and both 
feet, I found that a little progress was made, though not 
much could be done with the feet, for if the legs were 
straightened there did not seem to be sufficient surface to 
support me, and the legs and feet would begin to sink in 
the furrow plowed by my body. 
It was a long and tiresome struggle, and there was no 
chance to stop for rest, for the moment I stopped I began 
to sink. Though making progress, the uncertainty was 
by no means over, for there might be softer mud between 
me and solid ground. Crossing a hundred yards of such 
mud was an exhausting effort, but at last it was done, and 
I lay on some stiffer mud and rested. Looking at the 
mud-plastered clothes, I thought of one of Mr. Robinson's 
characters, who remarked on a certain occasion, "That 
was considerable of a splotteration ah." The next 
thought was, "If Winston Harris gets hold of this I'll 
never hear the last of it." And that reminds me. Winston 
took dinner with me not long ago, and told me a story 
about a shotgun and a Dutchman who was working for 
him. "Winston," said I, "you told me that story about 
three months ago, and at that time you said the hired man 
was a negro." "Did I?" said Winston, not a particle 
abashed. "Well, mebbe I did, for I never could tell a 
Dutchman and a nigger apart, and I never did know 
whether that man was a Dutchman or a nigger." "Was 
he white or black?" I asked. "I don't know," said Wins- 
ton. "Didn't you know I went color blind after that 
rattler bit me? I can't see any difference between white 
and black." "Was this man's hair straight or woolly?" I 
asked. "He didn't have any hair," said Winston, "lost it 
in a spell of fever." "I never heard of a snake biting 
you," said I. "You didn't? Why, when that snake bit 
me, my hair was browner than yours, and you see how 
white it turned every hair." "How soon after the snake 
bite did your hair begin to turn white?" I asked. "I don't 
just exactly remember," said he, "but I reckon it was 
about forty or forty-five years." 
But to return to the skis — that is, figuratively speaking, 
for I never expect to return to them in fact. I haven't 
any skis now, but have some experience, and think myself 
a gainer by the exchange, the experience being worth 
more than the skis. I don't really feel that I need any 
skis, anyway. O. H. Hampton. 
Oshkosh, Wis. 
MAINE GAME INTERESTS. 
Boston, Oct. VS.— Editor Forest and Stream: As so 
much is being published in our papers about the result of 
the good game laws in the State of Maine, I cannot help 
putting in a line on the side of their possible shortcom- 
ings. Few people who read the papers realize the ever 
increasing number to shoot, and to report on the seeing 
of game, and also the fact that a good many of the articles 
are paid for by the railroads and express companies as 
advertisements. The woods have bpen full of hunters 
since the first part of September, few of whom (as is well 
known) go without meat. As far away as Eagle Lake, 
Penobscot waters, there was one continuous fusilade along 
about the middle of September, and jacklights could be 
seen almost any night in different parts of the shore. 
The express companies have thus far this year handled 
over 40 tons of moose, deer and caribou, and I saw myself 
the first or second of October heads that were brought out 
in a rotten condition. This slaughter may continue for a 
year or two, but how any sane person can expect game to 
increase at this rate is a mystery to me. I myself know 
of five cow moose that have been killed, the bodies of one 
or two of which have been sold in the Boston market, 
and it is a well known fact among sportsmen that the 
larger number of deer killed toward the end of September 
along the lakes and rivers are does, as the bucks are back 
on the ridges. 
I feel it is almost useless to hold out against this sort of 
thing until sportsmen as well as guides consider it both 
honorable and their duty to inform on law-breakers. 
BOSTONIAN. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
If I can possibly get time I want to write you some 
notes on the game situation in Maine this year. It is 
quite certain that deer were never so plenty in the State 
as this year, and there were a good many moose at the 
beginning of the season, but they are being slaughtered 
at a fearful rate, cows and calves as well as bulls, and 
legislative action must be promptly taken and well en- 
forced or our noblest game park this side of the Rockies 
will be deprived of its noblest game. There must have 
been many hundreds of men hunting in Maine the first 
two weeks of October, and the interest has grown to be 
a tremendous one to the State. A. 
An Idaho Game and Fish Center. 
Little Rock, Ark. — I send you a picture of a catch of 
lollbs.' of speckled trout, made by Dr. Turpin and myself. 
Dr. Turpin is the gentleman who has written sometimes 
over the signature of ' 'The Lone Fisherman." They were 
caught in Snake River within a mile and a quarter of 
Hotel Bellevue, Aronger, Idaho, managed by our old 
friend, K. E, Hopf. Aronger is the night stage station on 
the road from Beaver Canon to Yellowstone Park. The 
other view represents a morning's shoot. I killed 74 sage 
hens and was back at noon. The climate is everything 
that one could wish, and I can guarantee any sportsman 
who goes there all the sport he wants. C. A. Pratt. 
Well, That is Generous. 
I was so proud of killing that big blue buck with my 
little rifle, I could not help writing of it for the Forest 
and Stream the other day. I on ly wish you could have 
been along to have made the shot, for it always does me 
more good to see a friend make a eood shot than to make 
one myself, Lew Wilwot. 
