FOREST AND STREAM, 
363 
siderable Bumbers during the summer and early autumn. 
I do not think it bred here, but suppose its natal bailiwick 
•was further south. It belongs to the class of waders, and 1 
suppose is a relative of the heron family. In size it is be- 
tween the Indian hen and blue crane. Its plumage is 
masnificent; the body a brilliant chestnut brown; the 
wings and portions of the head and neck a glossy, brilliant 
green— some called it an itinerant ibis — nevertheless they 
were there. 
I also remember seeing there on one occasion— only 
once— a flock containing eight or ten of thnsw majestic 
fowl, the spotless heron, whose home is in the Kverglades 
of Florida. No doubt they were driven from their native 
locality by one of those terrific storms which occasionally 
sweep over portions of the country without warning, with 
a velocity which no fowl can withstand. Therefore, they 
were transient and unwilling visitors, seeking rest and re- 
cuperative powers for their weary Southern flight. The 
plumage of this bird is superb, but not ostentatious. Its 
robes of snowy white are without a blemish, and some 
portions are equal if not superior to the plume of the 
ostrich. Their handsome plumage, crowned with a splen- 
did crest, imparts to them a regaf aspect. 
I now propose to insert a few words in behalf of that 
elevated family among the oldest inhabitants of this 
domain — the blue crane. He no doubt was here to wel- 
come Oapt. John Smith on his expedition up the Potomac 
in 1608, to explore and reveal the mysteries heretofore 
unknown; and no doubt the Captain found him enjoying 
the exalted position he .still adheres to as a privilege 
inherent in the blood of his family. If it is true (as some 
say) that the coloring of fowls is produced in some measure 
by sympathy with the blood; then this fowl should be 
called the royal blue crane, which would be in concord 
with the lofty position he assumes, and his reserved and 
silent habits. I have watched him frequently when 
perched upon his lofty throne or superstructure, amidst 
the surroimding waters of his domain, his lithe and elastic 
neck drawn to its utmost tension, solemn and silent as the 
sphinx and apparently oblivious to all surrounding objects, 
yet his eye as keen as the optic of Argus in scrutinizing 
every point within the bounds of his vision. And woe 
unto any unfortunate frog or small reptile daring to en- 
croach upon the line of his measured range. Swiftly as 
an arrow his deadly beak descends, and equally swift re- 
sumes its place. And with wonderful celerity the royal 
blue disposes of his conquest. Then with a business-like 
air (similar to that of an enterprising barber when he gets 
through with a customer) he seems to say: Next! Such is 
my knowledge of the royal blue. There were at that 
time several other annual visitors which may be con- 
sidered in the category of aquatic fowl, at least sufficient 
as links in the chain of the feathered race — snipe, wood- 
cock, plover, sand snipe, and perhaps some others. In 
addition, reed and blackbirds assembled here in countless 
numbers. 
Another class of inhabitants deserve brief notice, as they 
have been permanent residents from time beyond the me- 
mory of that celebrated character, the oldest inhabitant 
—I allude to those armored amphibious cruisers, the ter- 
rapins. The surroundings being particularly congenial to 
their luxurious nature and habits, their development in 
all essential accomplishments are of the highest order, 
particularly their speed. Among them are the snapper, 
marsh, diamond-back, slider and box, all celebrated for 
some particular quality. The snapper is renowned for its 
prowess, and also for its superior edible qualities; in fact its 
claims to the honor of belonging to the F. F. of the turtle 
race is baaed on the tradition that its ancestors furnished 
personally the wedding feast of Opechanconough, the father 
of Pow'hattan. I am afraid if I delineate the superior rac- 
ing qualities of our blooded stock, Major Mather would 
become frantic with envy whemreading of the wonderful per- 
formances of speed, in comparison to those little mongrels 
fished out of the creeks and mud holes along the Hudson, 
and trained by our mutual friend, Col. Chas. H. Kaymond, 
and himself. 
The above mentioned fowl and small quadrupeds com- 
prehend the principal residents at that time occupying 
this attractive locality. 
Where often I wandered in sun$hine and rain, 
And often in thought I wander again. 
After leaving the margin of the pocoson in pursuit of 
•other scenes, I came in sight of a large white oak tree 
standing a,lone. Its peculiar growth and altitude attracted 
my attention as an object once familiar but nearly obliter- 
ated from memory. When last I had gazed upon its 
ample form, it was surrounded by numerous others; now 
this aged patriarch stands alone; its companions have fallen 
beneath the relentless woodman's aye. Its gnarled and 
massive trunk, no doubt, foiled the woodsman in his task. 
Therefore, it stands breasting the storm, an emblem of 
many of its human cotemporaries. While standing beneath 
its ample shade, I recalled from memory an exciting scene 
of my early days, enacted beneath its spreading branches 
during the gloomy hours of a moonless night, with only 
an occasional glimmer from the stars penetrating the 
dense foliage; and the midnight silence broken by the 
dismal and weird hootings of the sombre owl, mingled 
•with the frantic shrieks of those engaged in the tragic 
scene. This, with the fearful echo repeating through the 
.adjacent forest, made night hideous, and converted the 
beautiful sylvan scene to pandemonium. As I was a par- 
ticipant in assisting to inflict condign punishment on that 
opcasion on four incorrigible corn thieves, I will endeavor 
to give a detailed explanation in defense of our summary 
action with the malefactors, in my next article. 
Jas. Nokeis, 
Magnolia, Harford County, 
P. S. — thank the author of the article "On the James" 
for his favorable comments, and also his remark that my 
production suggested the idea of his somewhat similar one 
— "On the James." Therefore, I am gratified to think my 
efforts have been successful in arousing an interest in one 
contributor at least, to assist in rescuing from obscurity 
many historical events and incidents worthy of record, 
which, in a few years, will be swallowed in the vortex of 
oblivion. J. N. 
Tlie Forest and Stream is put to press each week on luesday. 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach us at the 
late-at by Monday, and as much tarlierjas practicable. 
Adirondack History. 
CoNCRBifiNS rhnse "incidents in Adirondack history," which S.. of 
Troy. N. T.. questions in mvsrtiole on Alvah Dnnninsr, I will say: I 
was wrone- in stating that Sir William Johnson fonrht in the llevo- 
Intionary War. for he died at Johnstown. N Y-. July 11, 1774, not by 
his o<vn hand, as S. says '-many believe," but from over exertion at 
an Indian council 
S. is in error in sayiner that Johnson "didn't fight Indians," and 
tbat "bn livpri on most nmicablp tprn>s with his red brothers." I will 
quote from .Johnson's Univprsal CyoJopRdia! "* ♦ * IntheFrench 
war of IT.f'S Johnson wns cotnmissioned a mnjor-eenpral and com- 
mander-in-chief of the Provincial forces in the expedition against 
Grown Point, in which he defeated Baron Dleskau at Lake Georg-e 
(90 named by him) and destroyed his army in Septf-raber, If 5. .John- 
son wassevprely wounded in this eneae^pment, which was considered 
so important tbat it procured him the thanke of Parliament, a grant 
of £5.000 and a baroDPtcy. I" 17ER-.57 Sir William was eng-asred in the 
expedition for the relief of Osweeo end Fort William Henry, was 
with Abercrombie at Ticonderoga in K."!?, and was second in coni- 
main(j uDfier (}pn_ prifioa.ii in the pxpeditioti ag-amst Fort Nineara in 
17."!) On the d'^ath of Prideau, wbo was killpd beforp that fort. Sir 
William prosecuted the seige. si'lpd bv 1.000 Indian allies; defeated a 
French force sent to relievp the fort and recpived its unconditional 
surreocipr. In 1760 be participated in Amherst's esoedition to Mon- 
treal. For these services Sir William rpceived from tbe kioe a erant 
of 100.000 acres of land north of the Mohawk, lone known as Kinprs- 
le nd. or the Royal Grant." And if this wasn't fighting, then I don't 
know. 
The elder Dunnine- served with Sir William, and also fn the war of 
the Revolution. Without casting- any doubt on tbe different stories 
that S. relates of Stoner and Nat Fo.=ter, from which he thinks there 
wes created a Dunnine ravtb. of which be is not q>iite certain. I will 
acknowledge that I was not there when Alvah 's fntber killed an In- 
dian with a bundle^ of traps just after the T?evolutionary war. for 
Coasting of an atrocious murder: but mv informant sot the story 
from a clergyman, who beard it over forty years ago near Johnsto^vn, 
and it passed nncballengpd. 
I have rpplied to S. to the best of »nv ability, and for the foots 
about Sir WilUam will refer him to "Tbe Life of vSir William John- 
son." by W.L Stone, 1865. and also to Aopleton's '"EneycloTipdia." 
in artdition to what I have quoted. J got the s^ory of tbe killing of 
the Indian so straight that I helieve it, and am al«o wiPing to believe 
that each of tbe three stories which S. quotes may be true. In those 
ftays it was a small thing to kill an Indian in a ririmken brawl, and the 
Dunning story may not he at all connected with tbe other t-vQ. 
Tbe spelling of Popskinny is not aa serious a thine: as tbe others 
mentioned, because, no doubt, every Dutch surveyor spelled those 
Indian names by par. and put them on bis maps as seemed be.=t unto 
bim. Therefore S's maps differ in the spelling of tbe na^ne of this, 
to me, historic stream from those of Mr Stott and of Col. Teller, both 
of whom have shown me ihat my ear-spelling: is wrong; but as the 
surveyors of over a century ago disagreed over the snelline. T think 
mine as good as theirs. Fred Mathkr. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In Forest and Stream of AprU 94. S., of Troy, takes exception to 
some statements made by Ma.ior Mather in his article on Alvah 
Dunning. Our Trov friend is right in saving tbat Sir WilMara John- 
son did not fight Indians during the Revolutionary AVar, t>ut. wronein 
saying that he did not fight them before that date. Sir William died 
.Inly 4, 177^1, possiblv bv his own hand as suggested; but knowing 
whatwedoof his habits, his death at fifty-nine years of age coidd 
not have been unexpected. As Major General. Jobnoon commanded 
the provincial troop's in the attack on Crown Point in 1775-8, and in 
1'60 led the English Indians in the advance on Montreal In both of 
tbe=e small wars Gen. .Johnson fought the French Indians. Sir 
William did live on most friendly terms with the Tmiians of the Six 
Nations, and Mollr Bran, the Mohawk squaw, wbose relations with 
Johnson are well known, had great influence with her people, Tlie 
General is supposed to have been on the side of the Colonists, but his 
descendants were rank Tories. 
As I seem to be the "other fellow" referred to bvS , permit me to 
sa.y that mv spelling of the name of our fishing Major's Popskinny 
was taken from the earliest published records. Of course all these 
early names were spelled phonetically. We know now that the 
French were the discoverers of this Hudson's River and first settlers 
at Albany. Following them came tbe Dutcti, and lastly the English. 
Under these conditions the ancient Indian names had a fair chance 
to get badly tangled . A. C. Stott. 
WJLVES IN THE ADIRONDACKS. 
It was in 1855 that I headed an exploring party to search 
for iron-ore in the mountain range which is the divide be- 
tween Franklin, Lawrence, Hamilton and Essex Counties, 
New York, and is tbe head waters of the streams which 
flow east and west. It was a solitary desert then, rarely 
visited except by occasional explorers who were searching 
for deposits of tbe rich, magnetic iron there abounding. 
We left Plattshurg as soon as the snow was in good condi- 
tion for snow-shoeing, and made our camps along the crest 
of the divide so that there should not be any risk of going 
astray in the wilderness. As soon as the snow had gone we 
went to work. Trails were made from camp to camp, and 
tbe deer were there in thousands. The wolves were still 
more numerous, as it seemed, and we rarely were out at 
night except when we were caught unawares in some difii- 
cult locality. I had been from one camp to another, five 
miles distant, and thought I could get through before dark 
I was alone, with nothing but my Colt's navy and a small 
axe. 
The trail was muddy and I was soon overtaken by tbe 
darkness on account of the deep mire along it, so that 1 was 
far behind time. I had taken the precaution to have a man 
meet me on the trail, but he did not appear when it got 
dark, and I stumbled along tbe trail tbe best way I could. I 
lost my shoes in tbe mud and got within a mile of the camp 
when I heard the wolves liehiud me. They soon got within 
sight in the bright moonlight, and it was not long before I 
found it judicious to get my back against a tree and show 
fight. I exhausted my revolver and then took to my axe, 
chopping at those which came near enough.' The vile beasts 
sat around me and howled. On ! how dismally ! I had told 
the Emerald islander who was to meet me to bring my dog 
with him when he came to meet me, but calling my loudest 
and whistling as shrilly as my wind would permit, I kept on 
the defensive for, it seemed, hom's. The beasts circled 
about me and gave me all I could do to keep them at arms' 
length; a few I laid low with my axe, but a very big sum 
would have been given just then for some help. 
By and by I heard a yelp, and tbe instant after my dog 
bounded into the pack, and the snarling and howling of the 
wolves as he worried tbe pack was something I never could 
have imagined. I helped tbe dog with my axe, and we to- 
gether finally made the pack retreat. Then I felt such a 
lightness of heart that 1 have not forgotten through all the 
years since. I feel it now as I write, and thank that brave 
dog for my safety. That event has ever since made me 
reverence the dog, and fixed a firm friendship for the canine 
race. I went on my way rejoicing, never caring for my 
feet, no IV entirely bare, and bleeding from the wounds made 
by the sharp snags in tbe trail. When I got into vie vv of the 
light of the camp, I found my Irishman sitting on a log 
waiting for me. He was positively trembUng with fear, and 
gave little attention to the talk I gave bim, which, you may 
be sure, was in vigorous terms and not to be mistaken, even 
by an Irishman. Meanwhile my dog was licking his wounds, 
and I sat on the log to rest and comfort him before I went 
to my camp. I have been in some tight places in the woods 
since, but in none that would match that night. 
I am glad to hear that the wolves no longer prowl about in 
those mountains, for it is not a pleasant thing to get into too 
close company with them. 
Sf)me vears after I made acquaintance with a small gang ' 
of jet black ones in northern Michigan around a camp. 
Three of them were killed within a few feet of our meat 
house. These are all the black ones I ever met in the many 
years I have spent in the woods. 
I won't say the truth about the fish then in these Adiron- 
dack waters, further than at one spawning season I could 
have scooped up a wason load from one bed in a few min- 
utes; they literally filled the streams. The whole truth 
would hardly be believed. H. Stewart. 
I have been asked, as a taxidermi-st in the Adirondacks, to 
tell what I know about wolves in that region, which will 
make a short; chapter in your valuable columns. 
In the fourteen years I have spent there, I have known of 
hut two wolves taken, both of which have been mentioned 
in a lecent number of tbe Forest and Stream. The last 
was taken by Reuben Crev, in 1894, at Brandeth Lake, 
which T mounted at Blue Mountain Lake. I think, from 
this fellow's teetb, that he had lived to see many and great 
changes in his native forests since his cub days, and helieve 
that he must have been the last or about the last of his kind. 
I have never seen so a,ffed and dilapidated a mouth as this 
specimen had in anv wild animal, and he must have soon 
died for lack of ability to seize and hold his prey, though he 
feemed in a good cradilion for one of his kind. I have 
always tsken an interest in wolves (at a distance) and have 
made many inquiries of guides and trappers, but have not 
beard tbat even a track has been seen in the last three years. 
Five or six years ago it was not a, very uncommon thing to 
see a few tracks in the Moose River region, the most se- 
cluded in the wilderness. C. H. D. 
ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 
T AM afraid Brother Von W. has been staying in the 
woods too closely. He would know better otherwise than 
to be surprised at a minister welcoming the truth in regard 
to the intellectual life of animals. Ministers are not, as a 
class, "opposed to scientific investigation" of any kind. 
Sometimes they object to "science, falsely so called," or to 
the inference tbat because a man knows something of 
natural science he is therefore competent to decide the most 
complicated question in Biblical criticism and' dogmatic 
theology. But the animals bave no better friends than these 
same preachers. John Wesley believed animals had souls, 
and expected to find them in heaven. And the author 
of the most popular natural history ever written was a min- 
istT. 
It seems to me that there is no need any longer to doubt 
the rational quality of many of the actions of our four- 
footed friends. Old Roan was a cavalry horse marked I. C. 
(inspected and condemned). My father (a preacher, by the 
way, and as keen a hunter as ever trailed a deer or fooled a 
turkey) bought him at a Government auction for $12. 
When plenty of corn and oats and good treatment had 
counteracted the efl:ects of hard cavalry service, ten times 
tbat price would not bave bought him. He was a capital 
traveler acd a good farm horse. But his intelligence in 
opening gates was extraordinary. He learned the trick of 
lifting a latch as soon as the new barn was built. Then wo 
put a ring over tbe top of the post. He soon got on to this, 
and flipped it off with his upper lip. A chain, with the 
links keyed together, he could manage very well, also a 
rope, if he could get at the knot with his teeth. 
His stall was closed by sliding bars. These he learned to 
slip back with his teeth almost immediately. We then 
bored boles in them and put in pins to keep them from slip- 
ping, but he studied this out, and drew tbe pins with his 
teeth. A hole was then made in the Same bar, but at tbe 
inner end, behind the planking of the side of the stall. This 
stumped him for a good while, but he finally worked it out, ■ 
found the pin. drew it, slipped back the bar and walked 
forth in triumph. 
Your Iowa correspondent's amusing account of the way 
his dogs hunted rabbits brought up boyish recollections to 
me that caused a chuckle to pervade my inner man. Did 
you ever plow new ground ? If so you will agree with me 
that it is just as well for a boy engaged in this occupation to 
have some source of distraction, as amusing as possible, if 
bis record for language such as ladies might properly hear 
is to be kept immaculate. For when a broken root the size 
of your wrist slips off the plowshare and "swings" for hia 
naked shin, or his team starts one second too soon or too 
late, yanking a heavy plow underneath an unbreakable grub 
jast after he has laboriously heaved it out forthe third time, 
or when a hidden stump fillips tbe plow handle up under his 
fifth rib, he is in danger of intemperate speech. The rabbit 
hunting of my two dogs furnished an atmosphere of hilarity 
which, as I look back now, seems to have thoroughly per- 
vaded my last experience of this kind of pioneer farming. 
Ab me, what a darling, indulgent mother Dame Nature is! 
I know those were days of hard, sordid toil, but that is not 
tbe way 1 remember them. 
At an end of the clearing, which had been made in a grove 
of sapling oaks and elms, was a great pile of rails and poles 
which had not been needed in making the worm fence. The 
dogs in question were a Black and Tan terrier and a lumber- 
ing cur. A wooded hill ran alongside the field, and the de- 
scent to the piles of rails was steep. From time to time a 
yap, yap, on top of the hill would give me warning. Here 
would come bunny, and behind her the black and brown 
pursuers. Now, when a rabbit runs down a steep, rough 
hill, she must be careful not to smash those delicate forelegs. 
So old Lion always gained on the down grade; but as all the 
rabbits made for the wood-pile, the dogs soon adopted Shep's 
tactics and made a bee line for it as soon as the chase com- 
menced. They often beat Bre'r Rabbit so badly that he 
changed his mind and went elsewhere. Once in particular I 
looked up to see Lion coming down the hill like a gale, tbe 
terrier just behind, her head bobbing with the rapid work- 
ing of her short legs, while she emitted that volley of yelp- 
ing which seems as necessary to the running of a small dog 
as the pufiing of a locomotive is to its progress. The rabbit 
was off to one side, trying in vain to lead the procession. 
Just in the middle of the race the leading dog made a mis- 
step and doubled himself around a sapling witn a loud woio. 
Bre'r Rabbit tm'ned back up the hill, and seemed to the 
boyish spectator to wink with his other eye and point a de- 
risive ear at the demorahzed party of the second part. The 
smile of the boy between the plow-handles was wide and 
audible. 
The interest of the dogs in getting to the rail-pile will be 
appreciated from what often happened there. The terrier 
