Sept. 19, 1896.J 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
223 
beach the terrapin of 401bs. that you started with weighs 
a ton. You start cff brave as a lion; the load is not 
heavy; the straps are wide, and the terrapin doesn't make 
any fuss about it. But the load grows heavy fast; the 
straps are not so eafey as they were; the day is hot, the 
way dirty, the perepiration runs down into your eyes, 
and you get a pebble into your shoe, but you don't dare 
to stoop down to get it out, for you know if you ever do 
get down with that load you can never get up again. 
The terrapin's shell that you thought so smooth now 
seems to be as full of lumps as a bag of ecrap iron, and 
every lump has found a particularly tender place on your 
back. The terrapin that has been'riding along so quietly 
begins to get restless. He draws up one foot, then an- 
other, then all of them; and with every move he makes 
you think those straps are going to cut you through. You 
try to change the position a little, but every move makes 
matters all the worse. Finally, in desperation, you grit 
your teeth and plod along, vowing that if you do reach 
the beach alive vou will never try it again. But you do, 
all ihe same. For terrapin are glorious eating; the bones 
cracked and made into soup are away and beyond green 
turtle, and the liver— well, if I could tell you how good 
that was I would, but I know of no words that will ex- 
press it. Terrapin liver, ftied in terrapin fat, has a crisp 
njitty flavor that is unequaled by any food that I have 
ever ealen. 
July The nation's holiday, and as we fly the Amer- 
ican flag we'd celebrate. After breakfast all hands go in 
thn boats for a sail and run on the beach. We run down 
the coast a mile or so and land on a pretty little white 
beach. Some strip and go in for a swim; some look for 
shell, while the older and more sedate of the party are 
taking in the general outline of the country. We find 
something entirely different from what we have seen at 
home. Trees, shrubs and flowers (the last few) are very 
different from our home surroundings. The camphor 
tree is quite plenty, but very small. The cactus family is 
well represented, and all the specimens are of very large 
siz<=*, some as high as 80ft, , with spikes 6in, long. 
We start an iguana some 4ft. long, a disreputable-look- 
ing ahimal) built like an alligator, with a cross-cut saw 
growing out of his back. We make a rush for him, but 
he is too smart for us. 
Now we find the nesting of thousands of birds, peli- 
cans, gulls, cormorants, etc. These are not at all afraid 
of us and keep on their nests or at feeding/ their youns. 
We did not make a Very close inspection, for on getting 
near the hests we found that the odor from decaying fish 
and eicrement was insufferable. 
On returning to the boats we find a large seal. We 
surround and kill him with clubs and stones, and then 
wonder why we did it, as he is of nn earthly use. We get 
back to the ship at sunset, tired and hungry, and so ends 
our Fourth at Albermarle. 
July 5.— Up bright and early and hard at work. A 
small party starts for terrapin, the rest prepare to get 
wood. 
These islands, though very rocky, afe well wooded, but 
the trees are small, scarcely ever over 1ft, through. The 
islands are all of volcanic origin and are very uneven. 
All have one or more high peaks, which really are ex- 
tinct craters, near the center of the land. There are 
ridges of lava radiating from each peak like the spokes of 
a wheel, and reaching nearly to the shore. Between thd 
ridges are stretches of grass sward or gr^^en woods. Some 
of these spaces remind one of a New Eagland meadow, 
with the green grass bounded by the ridges of lava like a 
stone wall. 
This description will apply to about a mile from the 
beach. Above that there is very little grass or shrubbery, 
mostly a jumble of lava clinkers, ashes and rock, with 
here and there stunted shrubs or cactus, 
Everywhere it is very dry, and I have been told that 
Sain never falls here, I saw no fresh water on Alber- 
marle, and very little anywhere. And on Chatham Island 
I found a small pond of very shallow and very warm 
water on top of the hill. I have been told that there is a 
small stream on the south side of Chatham, but have 
never seea it. Charles Island, south of Albermarloj was 
once a penal colony of Peru, When I was there in '6l 
there were two runaway sailors; they said there was no 
one else on the island. The fact that these men lived 
there and that there were cattle there would argue plenty 
of fresh water. 
The islands consist of Albermarle, about seventy miles 
long by twenty-five wide; it lies north and south, with 
five high peaks, the highest 3,700 rt, high. N+rborough, 
sibout ten miles diameter; one large peak 3/('20ft. high. 
Indefatigable, ten miles diameter, one large peak. James, 
ten miles long, five miles wide, range of small peaks. 
</harl&s, seven miles diameter, several small peaks. 
Cjliatham, nine miles long, four miles wide, several small 
peaks. Hood's, four miles long, two miles wide, one 
large peak, several small ones. Barrington, three miles 
long, a bluff to the water's edge. D aucan, Jer vis, Bindloe, 
Tower, Abingdon, Wenam and Culpepper are all small. 
Besides the above there are many large rocks, the chief 
of which is Redondo, about twelve miles northwest from 
Albermarle, and a very striking object, rising from the 
water like a chimney to the height of 85ft. 
We spent some very happy days in Albermarle and did 
some very hard work, but we were all young and f uU of 
vim, and hardy from our simple life at sea. 
It seems, to look back at it all, like a grand play day. 
Those days were not without mishaps either. Poor 
fius slipped and ran a cactus spike into his leg. It entered 
just above the knee and ranged up for some Sin., and ^in. 
under the skin, It was my first surgical operation, cut- 
ting the spike out, but I made a good job of it. Poor 
trus! I saw him go over the side several years later with 
two round shot lashed to his feet. 
Francisco fell on a hatchet he was carrying and nearly 
cut his breast bone through. 
John fell into a crevice in the rocks and had to hold on 
t)y his eyelids while a man went for a rope to pull him 
out. ^ ^ 
But barring such trifling incidents as the above we had 
a good time. We got all the wood we could stow away ; 
f ^ hundred terrapin, which made us many a 
good dinner. We had all the running and climbing we 
wanted and drove the scurvy out of our Jbonea, for a 
while at least. 
Still when on July 15 we took our anchor and stood to 
the wesfrd it was with glad hearts. We were tired of 
shore and glad to feel the old f^mjliar roll onep more. 
' '* Tarpon. 
DR. GOODE AND HIS WORK. 
From the Washington Evening Star. 
Dr. Goode's administration of the Smithsonian Institu- 
tion was so thorough and scrupulously honest that it has 
always been said that that department above sus- 
picion of wrongdoing, and the idea of investigating it 
had never been suggested. He was a man whose upritrht 
life was known to every one who came under his influ- 
ence, and he had the reputation of having a personal ac- 
quaintance with every employee of the institution without 
exception. He was scrupulously intent on carrying out 
the design of the founder of the institution as expressed in 
his will, and always reminded those associated with him 
that the Smithsonian Institution waa for the dissemination 
of knowledge among men. 
His purpose in carrying out this intention now and then 
brought him at variance with scientists who wanted to 
make use of exhibits for their own purposes of study to 
the exclusion of the public; but Dr. Goode never failed to 
insist that no use should be made of any portion of the 
exhibits under his charge which in the least interfered 
with the public having continual access to them. 
He was careful about the use of public property for any 
private purpose, and it was said at the museum that no 
employee was permitted to use a sheet of paper belonging 
to the Government for the purpose of writing a private 
letter. Combined with his ability as a classifier and 
scientist Dr, Goode was endowed with a practical business 
ability, which greatly assisted him in successfully con- 
ducting the work of the institution. 
One of his most pronounced traits of character was his 
accuracy and the immense care he took in order that 
every publication by the institution should be absolutely 
faultless, It was this intense desire to be faultless in his 
work that impelled him onward and caused him to work 
so incessantly as to greatly endanger his health. He was 
familiar with the work in every department under him, 
and frequently surprised his associates by his knowledge 
of their work and his suggestions for improving it. 
Dr. Goode was a deeply rel'gious man, and his life was 
as pure as that of a child. No one was known to have 
ever indulged in any talk in his presence that could not 
with the utmost propriety have taken place in the pres- 
ence of ladies. 
Ooe of his most pronounced traits of character was his 
readinp.as to help fellow scientists, and it is said that at 
least 100 scientists throughout the world were under con- 
stant obligation to him. He helped many of these men 
to do their work and forwarded to them any information 
that came to his hand which he knew bore on particular 
lines of work pursued by them. He took a great interest 
in young men, and always had time to counsel the aspir- 
ant for scientific attainments. He was accessible at all 
times, and his temperament was so buoyant and friendly 
that no one was ever able to Icng be at odds with him 
when he might differ with them on some subject of ad- 
ministration of the institution. 
BIRDS IN CENTRAL IOWA. 
ViNToN, la. — Editor Forest and Stream: Summer birds 
appeared in this vicinity as follows: 
March 4 — Mourning dove, 
March 9— Meadow lark, song sparrows, a large flock of 
brown birds, and two bluebirds. 
March 25 -ItiUdeer. 
March 29— Mourning dove, yellowhammer, northern 
butcherbird and pigeon hawk. 
April 10 — Kingbird. 
April 1.5— Brown thrush. 
April 25 — Baltimore oriole. 
May 2— Catbird. 
May y — Redheaded woodpecker. 
May 5— Yellowbirds. 
May 10— Cuckoo. 
I doubt that the mourning dove of March 4 was a new 
arrival, It may have wintered here. I saw one the last 
day of December. 
Blackbirds are usually among the very first arrivals, 
and remain the latest in the fall, there always being small 
flocks af f^er the first snows. And, unlike the blackbirds 
of New England, I have never known them to pull up 
corn. I have watched them when I have been planting 
corn, and have not seen them pick up a kernel. A small 
flock can almost always be seen following a plow and pick- 
in? up the insects that are uncovered. A. short ti ne ago 
I saw something in Forest and Stream about a flock of 
blackbirds that stayed here through the winter. In this 
flock there were ten birds, but during the fore part of 
January there was a hard storm, after which the flock 
showed up with two birds missing. During warm spells 
of weather they would be gone for a day or two. 
Feb. 17 was a thawing day, and I suppose that my 
blackbirds started on one of their pleasure trips, for I 
could not remember of seeing them that day; but, alas! 
the next day they were caught in a hard northwest wind, 
with the air full of snow and the weather at zero. They 
showed up that day with one bird missing, and there is 
no doubt but that the poor 'ellow became numb with cold 
and dropped out of the flock, while the others, being 
unable to give assistance, hurrif d on through the cold 
storm to their winter quarters. But do you think that 
tjiey forgot their lost companion? Feb, 26 tbi^ weather 
rapidly grew warm, the thermometer showing 62° above. 
Geese and du^-ks were flying over, and the blackbirds 
went away. But on Feb. 29 they came back, fetching 
with them the missing one that they had left in the cold 
storm eleven days before. And I cannot understand 
why that was not about the same kind of instinct that 
men would have used under like conditions. I did not 
see these birds after March 6, and I believe they are at 
their old breeding places far away to the north, I will 
watch for them next fall. 
Last summer I saw the only hummingbird that I re- 
member having seen in Iowa, and I have lived here for 
thirteen years. 
I have seen three bluebirds this season, but the song 
birds seem to be more numerous than usual. The meadow 
larks, like those in Nebraska, do not go through with their 
song, as does the New Fagland lark. 
There is also in New England a brown bird that has a 
sweet and extended song. We have the same bird here 
and it begins the song all right, and goes along lovely 
until it gets to the middle of the song, wh^n it stops 
short. What is the matter with these birds? Is the 
air too rarified? The whippoorwills stay in the timber 
along the river; they seldom come on to the prairie. I 
have only heard four away from the river. 
I learn that crows do not winter in northern Michigan 
or Wisconsin. They winter with us in flocks of thou- 
sands. I have never known them to roost in the heavy 
timber along the river, but always in the small groves out 
on the prairies, I do not understand why they do so, 
unless it is more damp and cold near the river. Every 
morning they go to the river to drink and feed on the 
carcasses usually found at such places, but in the latter 
part of the afternoon begin to string out to their roosting 
placp, 
Butcherbirds stay with us all winter, and that together 
with their handsome plumage is all the good that can be 
said of them. 
They build their nests and generally keep away 
from the buildings, yet I have seen them chasing 
down song birds that were flying for their lives from tree 
to tree, with horror shown in their movements and pant- 
ing with exhaustion, and every spring I think that I will 
kill every one near my place. Even in the night time I 
have heard their cry for blood coming from the hedges 
by the roadside. 
Bluejays stay with us through the winter. There also 
is a bird that stays here summer and winter whose note 
is the same as that of the pbosbe, excepting the note of 
the former is a clear pewee, while the note of the latter 
is tremulous. 
The catbirds are gr^mt berry thieves, while the black- 
birds, after they have flocked together in the fall, destroy 
some apples, and the bluejays are guilty of doing the 
same. The bluejays have a reputation for destroying the 
eggs of other birds, but they build in my yard every year, 
and there are always other birds that build and raise their 
ycung within a few feet of them. 
I h^ve "just read in the last number of Forest and 
Stream what Mr. A. K. Fisher says about the food of the 
barn owl. Now all research into the habits of birds is to 
be commended, and for one I am thankful for any knowl- 
edge imparted or advice given; but if one feels that he 
knows best how to serve his own interests he should be > 
allowed to act without being subjected to the insolent 
comments of people who are as unfit and unable to give 
good advice as to rural matters as an Australian kangaroo 
is able to j ump into heaven. 
Farmers are told that they murder their friends by kill- 
ing hawks and owls, for it has been learned that bawka 
and owls mostly live on meadow mice, song birds and 
domestic chickens. They do some good by catching 
meadow mice, but how much? I believe there is not a 
160 acre farm in this country on which the meadow mice 
destroy enough grass to amount to more than one fork- 
ful of hay, which in the East would be worth 10 cents 
and here 24 cents. Sometimes the mice get into the 
stacks of corn if the latter is left standing long, and in 
one field might eat half a quart of corn, which in New 
England would be worth 1 cent and in Iowa ^ cent. I 
would not lose one song bird or chicken for all the mice 
the hawks and owls have killed on my place during the 
last ten years. I do not kill meadow mice, for I think 
they are harmless; neither do I kill owls; but I have 
made few shots that have given me the satisfaction that 
I have taken in knocking down a hawk that was flying 
away with a peeping chicken in its talons. When I find 
a hawk on my place I will kill it if I can for the deviltry 
it is bent on doing, and when I find one elsewhere I will 
try to kill it for the deviltry it has done, and no one need 
lose any sleep by figuring out how much my loss will be. 
The only good owls do me is to look wise in the day- 
time and cry in the nighttime, and that is not objection- 
able, for there are few sounds that come to my ear either 
in daylight or darkness that are not pleasant to hear. 
The song of birds and the buzz of insect? ; the rattle of 
the tree toad and the chorus of the crickets; the midnight 
hoot of the owl from the wooded shores of the secluded 
lake and the cry of the eagle in the sunlit sky; the croak 
of the bullhead, the bullfrog, and the bellow of the bull; 
the bark of the squirrel, the baying of the hound and the 
howl of the wolf in the lonely woods; the boom of the 
partridge, the gun, the settling ice, and the electric -ur- 
rent in the troubled clouds; the whistle of the wocdchuok, 
the wail of the loon and the laugh of the crane circling 
dimly in the distant sky; the splash of the alighting duck, 
the feeding fish and the beaver startled by the camp- 
fire's glare; the breaking of the ocean waves on the 
shore, and the soughing of the wind in the mountain for- 
ests: from meadow and hillside, from vall^ and moun- 
tain, from sunlit plain and woodland shade — few indeed 
are the sounds that I do not love to hear, and of such I 
can now recall but three: the hiss of the hidden snake, 
the rasping call of the red-headed woodpecker and the 
outlandish squall of the wooden-headed opera singer; and 
although there are notes of the former b'rd that are not 
unpleasant, I have never yet listened with pleasure or 
comfort while the latter was giving tongue. 
I do not -like hawks very well, I was once changing 
my camp from Bancroft, Idaho, to Bear Lake, a distance of 
sixty miles. Soon after leaving Bancroft I saw a hawk 
sitting on a snow guard by the railroad track, I handed 
the lines to my wife and taking my shotgun jumped out 
of the wagon. I went up to a snow guard that was be- 
tween me and the one that the hawk was on, and looking 
under it I saw that the hawk was getting restless, so I 
laid down and quickly pushed the gun ahead; my posi- 
tion and the lay of the groun d preventing me from put- 
ting the gun to my shoulder, I glanced quickly along the 
barrels and let her go. Eheu! but how she went, some- 
how both barrels at once. The old gun jumped clear 
from the ground and came right back at me, she whacked 
me on the shoulder, then glanced up and gave it to me 
again on the bridge of my nose; then she shook herself 
around in the air until she lost the firing pin from the 
left barrel and dropped back to the ground, 
I went around and picked up the hawk, and thOn went 
back and got the gun, which had not yet got through 
smoking at the mouth. I laid the hawk down by the side 
of the wagon, and that hawk was as dead as any dead 
hawk that you ever saw. Then I tried to make my wife 
believe that I was not hurt. Then wondering how any 
two feathers on that hawk could be together, and not see- 
ing any wound on it, I took hold of its leg with my left 
hand and raised it up so that I could more closely look at 
