440 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[June 1, 1895. 
mud flying till I felt like a duck — a most glorious relapse 
backward over more than a quarter century and into my 
mud-pie days! I don't know that I would exactly recom- 
mend it as a paying investment of time, however, in view 
of cleaning up afterward; but one can thus acquire more 
real estate in a minute than by any other method known 
to me — without capital. 
An yet, "cleaning up" is not unhappy. Much of our 
wet Easter Sunday — the Sou' Easter, as we call it here — I 
passed sitting on an inverted bucket tenderly going over 
my possession. Not a half-inch of that 221b. wheel failed 
to gets its share of polish. Cork handle, rabber pedal, 
wooden rim, spiderweb spoke — they all got it, and yet did 
not need it. But I loved to do it. Merely to look at it 
brought to mind so many happy memories when we — the 
wheel and I — had whistled over the undulating roads to- 
gether, with never a failure of either in any emergency 
that arose. It is a different affair from polishing a pair 
of boots. I always hated to do that. But you brothers 
of the shooting-iron will understand. 
And that reminds me! Some such brother lately com- 
mented on the need of a dress or costume for ladies which 
would be suitable for them while hunting or mountain- 
eering, and lamented the lack. 
My friend from the Eockies, there is no lack! Any fair 
day, around Boston, you could now see dozens of fair 
ones in exactly the costumes wanted, skimming along 
awheel. Stouter material, of course, would be needful 
than what they wear, but the pattern is correct. I have 
watched it coming for years, and now it is here; and for 
two two-cent stamps I could put you in the way of it. 
N. B. This is not an advertisement, as I have nothing to 
sell, and should probably have to buy what I should send 
you. Perhap3 the better way would be for you to write 
direct to some bicycle firm that advertises in the Forest 
and Stream— or that doesn't. J. P. T. 
Boston. 
UNCLE RUSTY AND OLD SILE. 
A Backwoods Correspondence. 
BY F. BERKELEY SMITH, 
Little Otter Pond. 
Well, sir, me and ole Drive got talkin' about ye con- 
siderable of late. There ain't nothin' that pleases the ole 
cuss more'n when I git talkin' about ye. Yer letter with 
all them pictures about spring done me good. Ole Drive 
and me hain't been out to the settlement yet. Wall, I 
say hain't been out, we have mogged it down for what 
mail I've had, but we hain't stayed none. Goll, I can't 
stand it to hum' long in these spring days. I can't actilly 
sleep nights up here in the shanty, thinkin' of the fishin'. 
The dog says he see some ole whoppers above the big falls; 
goll, he says they was nice ones. He says he see one that 
he cal'lated weighed close onto 41bs. Says he was an 
awful trout. I been mendin' my ole horsehair line and 
cut me a pole, and tied up some bungly flies out of some 
deer hair and some wool from my shirt, and now the old 
dog says they got to come. 
I kin see it now; thar ain't nothin' like fishin' for a 
feller in the spring. Git up at jest daylight with the 
woods a-drippin', stretch your legs and shake the blankit, 
and gap considerable, and take the axe and split off some 
of the old stump back of the camp. Shave some of them 
' 'plumes" we used to call 'em, and pile 'em julluk a wig- 
wam — so — . Thar, now, draw that brimstone kind of 
hasty over them old homespuns of yourn, and put the 
rest of 'em back in that leetle box the city feller give ye. 
Now go down to the brook and fill the kittle and souse 
your head in the stream, and come back and cook your 
breakfast and git started soon 's you can, and then paound 
it for Beaver Medder Brook and strike in at the big hole. 
Thar, now, put on that bungly tied fly the city feller gave 
ye and draw it kinder jerky acrost the pool. 
Ker slosh! Thar now — don't let him git under that 
driftwood and give an extry sink to the hook; them old 
fellers' mouths are pure gristle, and don't you forgit it. 
Takes considerable power to sink the hook well into 'em. 
Thar — easy now. Wall, I swan, you did git him, didn't 
ye? I'll be beat if he ain't a nice one, too — fatter 'n a 
mink. Bimeby it'll git most noon, and you'll try more 'n 
a dozen times to stop fishin' and pick out a fiat rock to 
stretch out on and smoke and eat suthin; but ye can't. 
And when you're so hungry you're hollewer 'n a gourd 
you'll stop and brile one of them fish, and arter a lickin' 
good smoke you'll stretch out and shut your eyes and 
listen to the brook talkin' to itself and grumblin' in under 
some old rock, and swirlin' around side of ye and purlin' 
along. Goll, how drowsy it'll make a feller. Open your 
eyes and see how it flashes along over the stones at the 
aidge of them ripples. 
Bimeby you'll git to fishin' ag'in, and jest at dark you'll 
be down to the still waters. How black and smooth the 
water looks ahead of ye; hear them bull bats screamin' 
overhead. You kin hear a white-throated sparrer, one of 
them clear, sweet notes, away back in the swamp. How 
cool it's gittin', and all the time you're gittin' so dummed 
hungry ye wish ye hadn't come. But ye can't stop fish- 
in' — you ain't got a bushel, but ye got some nice ones; and 
ye ain't been fishin' slow, have ye? Bimeby it gits so dark 
ye can't see your line, and you git out of the water and 
peek about to see how the mountain's a-p'intin', and then 
leg it for camp, your ole shoes goin' souse-souse-kerswish 
at every step, and that last trout ye took now and then 
jumpin' in your basket. Hello! See that red spark be- 
tween them black trees? That's the camp, and 'tain't no 
time 'fore you're thar and have slung off the strap from 
them two sore spots on your shoulders, and have the fire 
a-blazin' and the kittle a-b'ilin'. 
Like as not I never told ye how me and ole Drive 
ketched forty-two of the nicest speckled trout once 
through the ice to Otter Pond. We'd had a hard winter, 
no use talkin'. Ole Drive and me had eat up all thar 
was in the shanty, and we done our best trappin,' but 
'twarn't no use; it'd snow most every day and kiver our 
traps up 'fore a sapil or a mink could git to 'em, nor we 
hadn't no fish hook nuther, nor no ain'nition. Tiie ole 
dog he sot up thinkin' what we was a- goin' to do; bimeby 
he says to me, you git your axe, says he, and come along 
down to the pond, and I presume likely we'll git some 
fish, says he. How you goin' to git 'em, says I, when we 
hain't got no fish hooks? You come down, says he, and 
I'll show ye. Wall, sir, we done so; the ole dog he went 
back of the shanty and found an ole sapil head, and I got 
the axe, and we started for the pond. When we got thar 
we begun to chop a hole about forty rod from the Fish 
Rocks. Now, says ole Drive, you git some string and tie 
that sapil head onto it and hold her over the hole and 
git a club. Goll ! I done so; and 'twarn't a minute 'fore 
a trout that'd weigh two pound jumped clean out for that 
sapil head, and I gin it to him with the club, and out he 
went spinnin' onto the ice; then ole Drive he out after 
him and fetches him back. Quick as I'd hit 'em Drive 
he'd go out and git 'em and pile 'em up whar we was, 
and 'fore we quit we had forty-two of the nicest speckled 
trout that was ever ketched at Otter Pond. 
Wall, sir, they come in good, and don't you forgit it; 
and they run all the way from a pound to five pound. 
Wall, we eat what we could and smoked the rest of 'em, 
and 'twarn't long 'fore the snow begun to melt and we 
had luck trappin', and that's the time I ketched them 
beavers. 
Ole Drive sends his respects. Sile. 
NOTES FROM CAMP NESSMUK. 
III.— Snakes and Presentiments. 
One afternoon an incident occurred in Spook Hollow 
that gave me something to puzzle over. But to under- 
stand it, we must go back a little. A few weeks earlier 
I was out looking for squirrels on the Big Island which 
Dan River forms with the Black, down near the Arkansas 
line. For an hour or more I had been moving slowly 
through the woods, craning my neck and scarcely ever 
looking where I trod. Suddenly, as though commanded 
by a sharp voice from the air, the feeling struck me: 
Look at your feet! I did so, and sprang back, for one 
step forward would have landed me on a fair-sized copper- 
head, coiled and ready to strike. I stood a moment 
watching the little villain, and then made a feint of 
attacking him, to test his mettle. He was game, and 
gave me to understand that this was strictly a business 
affair, and that he wouldn't run from anything on two 
legs. 
I had not slain a serpent since "Coahoma" took me to 
task about that blacksnake. But the ethics of this case 
seemed different. Homo was not the aggressor. Ophis 
had plenty of time to give half the road. But no; he pre- 
ferred to stay and wantonly kill something that he had no 
use for, and which, according to Missouri laws, was out 
of season. It is true that he did not charge; but that was 
scarcely to his credit, for I was saving him the trouble by 
blundering right into his mouth. Even a rattlesnake 
would have shown some regard for my pedestrian rights 
by giving warning; but this lurking little assassin simply 
drew back his brazen head and said: Retreat or die! 
On the whole, it seemed to the jury that the said snake 
was taking a cowardly advantage of unoffending inno- 
cence. It was not a fair show for Kepharfc. So I drew 
bead on Mr. Snake and blew his head off. 
After examining his fangs and finding them in prime 
working order, I realized that this had been a pretty close 
shave. In fact, after deliberating upon the aesthetics of 
dying alone in the woods and upon the chances of a proper 
obituary certificate being framed which would be binding 
upon the insurance companies, I took the shortest cut for 
camp, where Barnes looked up surprised at the announce- 
ment: 
'You can do the hunting to-day; I'm out of it." 
It is matter for regret that this adventure so soured my 
disposition that a few days later I killed a perfectly harm- 
less king snake for no other reason than that he wriggled; 
and subsequently, on running across a puff adder that 
blew itself up and hissed like a goose, I shot it to demon- 
strate to a skeptical companion that this species has no 
fangs, and consequently should be let alone. After these 
lapses I punished no snakes until the afternoon that I 
started to tell about. 
Again I was squirrel hunting. Again looking aloft and 
letting my feet take care of themselves. Again the mys- 
terious warning. Again I found myself in the act of 
stepping on a copperhead. Again the little imp refused to 
give me room, but lay there, coiled and darting defiance 
from his forked tongue. And again he was decapitated 
with the .22. Strangely enough, this snake turned out to 
be deformed. It had the head and neck of an adult, but 
its body tapered off so abruptly that the creature looked 
somewhat like a lizard without legs. But there was noth- 
ing deformed about his poison apparatus. 
For some time after this I carried about with me a 
queerish feeling of uncanniness — not on account of the 
snake, but because of the warning. Call it premonition 
or what you will; was it not weird? At first I thought 
that the snake must have been on the very edge of my 
field of vision, so that I saw it dimly without realizing the 
fact. But this could scarcely be, for in both instances the 
warning came like lightning, when the snake was so near 
that it could not have been seen without glancing down- 
ward. I find that when standing erect and looking 
straight ahead, my eyes lose sight of a bright object on 
the ground at a point at least a yard ahead of me. In 
both cases I was looking upward at a considerable angle, 
and the reptile was within two feet of me when dis- 
covered. 
It would be pleasant to believe in a good angel aloft 
who looks after the poor woodsman; but — why should one 
sinner be favored and another stricken? 
I move that the discussion be closed. 
Horace Kephart. 
On the Beaverkill. 
RoSCOE, N. Y.— We started from this place and drove up 
the Beaverkill about nine miles, where we stopped at Mrs. 
Voorhes's. It is one of the loveliest spots on the stream, 
and no one who has ever been there but carries back some 
pleasant recollections of trout that he has caught and 
trout that he has eaten, cooked under the hostess's own 
direction in a manner that would tempt the most delicate 
taste. We stayed two days and caught about 200 trout, 
several of which were of goodly size. In the pool just in 
front of the house two were caught which tipped the scales 
at l|lbs. each; and one, caught just below, a fine specimen 
of California trout, weighed SJlbs. The stream is in the 
proper stage for fishing and the trout are rising to the fly 
very well. If any one cares to take a trip to this section 
I do not know of better directions to give than to go to the 
Beaverkill Beach House, kept by Mrs. Voorh.es. 
W. H. Johnston. 
TROPHIES AT THE EXPOSITION. 
The committee^of the Boone and Crockett Club, to 
whom was intrusted the duty of measuring the game 
heads shown at the Sportsmen's Exposition, have made 
their report as follows: 
New York, May 22. — Mr. Fred. S. Webster, See'y. — 
Dear Sir: The committee requested by you to measure 
the heads of American big game animals displayed at the 
recent Sportsmen's Exposition begs leave to report as 
follows: 
The committee met on the afternoon of Wednesday, 
May 15, at the Madison Square Garden, and devoted the 
whole of that afternoon to the work in hand. It did not 
pretend to measure all the heads exhibited, but picked 
out only the larger ones with the view of establishing in 
this country an authentic record of some heads with 
which comparison could be made in the future. In the 
case of caribou, white goats and moose the spread was not 
given. 
• Where the heads belonged to private individuals and a 
history of them could be given, locality and date of cap- 
ture were given. It is usually impossible to obtain such 
data as to heads in the possession of professional taxi- 
dermists. Yours very truly, Theo. Roosevelt, 
Archibald Rogers, 
Geo. Bird Grinnell, 
Owner. 
MOUNTAIN SHEEP. 
Locality and date of capture. Girth. Length. Spread. 
°° D |N. D..September,lS87. ) " 
3. T. W. Praine. Purchased from dealer. . . 
4. G. O. Shields Ashnola River, B. C 
VIRGINIA DESK. 
7. Geo. Bird Grinnell.. J Tji ™ a '^L v 5'^ b -' 
16J4 
25% 
16 
29^ 
36 
30 
26 
10M 
K% 
&M 
I'M 
88j| 
21 
4 
22^ 
4% 
24 
WHITE GOATS. 
8 T Roosevelt \ Bi S Hole ' M ° nfc -i I 51 ni 
o. x. itoosevBii, -j August, 1889. | 0 F« J «« 
q waiter TamPH I Swift Current River, I im , 
a. waiter James -j Montanai 1892- J; • m 10J4 
BLK. 
10-P.Liebinger {^^^ \ ■ ■ ■ ^ «W 54 
11. T.Roosevelt ^ 'SS^SSSbi, mS: } ^ 56 *- ¥* 
13. T. Roosevelt \ \ M «W 
13. G. O. Shields Clark's Fork, Wyo ty A 51% 50 
MULE DEER. 
14. T. Roosevelt \ "ggfefift j 5 26% 28^ 
15. C. G. Gunther's Sons , 5%4 26 2814 
IB P Lifibinirpr J Madison River, Mon- 1 ... wj . 
ie. i-.Liewnger -j t ana, Nov. 4, 1889. f- 4 & 2o ™ *»* 
CARIBOU. 
17 T Roosfivflt J Kootenai, B. C., „» 
17. I. Koosevel, - ( September) i 888 J 32 
18. W. W. Hart & Co 5^ 40 
19. C. G. Gunther's Sons 5% 50 ' 4 
20. C. G. Gunther's Sons 034 37 *17^ 
musk ox. 
31. W. W. Hart & Co 29^ 20}^ 
BUFFALO BULLS. 
22. F. Sauter Montana, 169* 14 1iy> 32 
23. T. Roosevelt ] ^^A. \ » 
24. P. Liebinger Western Montana, 1883.. 12^ 19 
MOOSE. 
Owner. Locality and date of capture. Girth. Lensrth. Palmation. 
25. F. Sauter Canada 7% 3JJ4 3^x17 
26. Col. Haselton Chesuncook, 1887. . fife 41 4i}4y2'3i 
27. W. W. Hart & Co 38 37Uxi9j| 
28. C. G. Gunther's Sons 33 35 
1. Tip of horn broken. 3. Extremely symmetrical; horns widely 
spread and unmarred. 4, Heavy head, horns broken and blunt at 
tips. 5. Heavy horns, mounted animal. 6. Twelve points. 7. Eigh- 
teen points, very symmetrical. XI Sixteen points. 11 and 12. Each 
twelve points. 13. Thirteen points, very heavy massive antlers. 
14. Twenty-eight points. 15. Mounted animal, thirty- four points. 16. 
Thirty-five points. 19. Barren ground type, forty-three points. 20. 
Woodland type, heavy horns and more palmation; thirty points. 21. 
Very large; height of boss, 13in. 25. Twenty points. 26. Twenty - 
seven points. 37. Twenty-four points. 28. Remarkable for size and 
evenness of brow palmation. 
* Height front palm, f Breadth, front palm. 
The Song Birds. 
San Luis Potosi, Mexico, May 22.— General notes re- 
cently published in regard to the scarcity of spring 
visitors remind me of reports that reached me after the 
February norther. This was the severest weather that 
had been known along the Mexican coast for some twenty 
years. Coffee and other tropical plants were frozen as 
far south almost as the latitude of Vera Cruz. In this lati- 
tude — that of Tampico — there was a sharp frost and in 
many places a heavy fall of snow. This was accompanied 
by two or three days of chilly clouds and fogs. Friends 
who live in coffee belt— that land of eternal green and 
of infinitely luxurious life, both vegetable and animal- 
gave me most interesting accounts of the effects of those 
cold days. The little birds took refuge in the houses, 
seeking warmth and food. Their stiff bodies could be seen 
everywhere in the shrubbery. The withering effects of 
the frost left the deer without forage, and they became 
astonishingly tame and thin. Pumas and jaguars fol- 
lowed them into the settlements, and caused a general 
panic. How far these bird sufferers were migrants I 
have no means of ascertaining. As great numbers of 
song birds are known to visit Cuba in the winter, it is al- 
together reasonable that they also follow the mainland 
southward to where similar climatic conditions prevail. 
But Mexico has been strangely 'neglected by the bird 
students. Aztec. 
The Few Spring' Birds. 
Charlestown, N. H., May 20. — Birds are as scarce here 
as everywhere else this year. Have seen a few robins 
and ground sparrows, a flock of "yellow birds" or gold- 
finches, which have gone again, and one swallow. Of 
course he did not make summer, for we have had a sharp 
frost since. 
Have not seen a bluebird nor an oriole yet. It is very 
dry and the streams are getting low again, and the earth 
is too much like ashes to plant my flower seeds, but it is 
Anniversary week in Boston, and we may hope for rain. 
Von W. 
