204 
FOREST AND STREAM, 
rSEPT. 11, 1897. 
a rabbit. I do not yet know how the rabbits are pot into the 
cone-coil uniniured. (Obviously these three were in it at the 
same time.) It is quite plain that the snake adjusts its coil 
to hold the animal tight,' in an upright position." Its head is 
then put down froui the top, nn the inside, and the rabbits 
"slimed" with its tongue. To see the relative size of a 
half-grown rabbit and the snake's head and mouth one 
would think the act impossible. The snak"^ tben gets its 
mouth over the rabbit's nose and by pressing down, and at 
the same time forcing th? rabbit up with the coil, the feat is 
accomplished. The rabbit is smothered to death at the 
beginning. The act is aptly illustrated by grasping a vial 
in one hand and forcina: a small rubber nipple over its neck 
with the other. It could not be done in any other way. 
The "glass snakes" sometimes spoken of were very com- 
mon at that time, and were called "jint" (joint) snakes by 
the negroes, who said that if the broken pieces were put 
together they would grow. 
Another very rare and beautiful snake, of a light green 
color, very slender and effeminate, was occasionally seen 
running through and over the tops of bushes and small trees 
where they were in cUimns. It's the most agile of the snake 
tribe, and travels thus with amazing swiftness, going rapidly 
from one limb to another, which were as far apart as half 
the length of its body. Thev are usually 2 to 2^ft. long. I 
have never seen one on the ground. 
"While hunting wild strawberries I once came near a 
brownish-colored snake, known as the "prairie snake." It 
attracted my attention by a peculiar singing, hissing noise, in 
response to which twenty or twenty-five little snakes, abr>ut 
Sin. long, came from all directions and went down her mouth 
one after another in an incredibly short time, when she 
"pulled her freight" for high grass. 
Many years ago a neighbor of mine saw a hawk quicl?ly 
descend to the ground Rud rise up with a rather small snake 
in its claws . The snake was wriggling violently, and within 
a short time succeeded in wrapping itself around the hawk 
and interfering with the action of its wings, when both fell to 
the ground and were killed by him. 
By the way, what has become of the "forked-tail hawk"? 
I haven't seen one for over thirty years. They were plenti- 
ful at that time, and subsisted entirely on snakes. Are there 
anv now anywhere? 
Another. Kattlesnakes a,nd blacksnakes are implacable 
enemies, and, contrary to what one would invariably be- 
lieve, the blacksnake always comes out victorious. It has 
been my fortune to witness two encounters between them. 
In both instances the rattlesnake was in a coil, and the black- 
snake was going around him like the shepherd dog, and at a 
safe distance. Just as soon as the rattlesnake struck and 
uncoiled the blacksnake was UT)on him, and, rommencins at 
bis neck, rapidly encircled and crushed him to death. The 
act in both cases was almost instantaneous, and the black- 
snake left his dead enemy almost as quick. 
G. R. Morris. 
MONTAHA. 
MORAL SENSE UNDER A SEARCHLIGHT. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I do not think your correspondent, IT, D. Elting. reasons 
from a sound basis while discussing the moral sense of brutes. 
Is it fair to assume that brutes lack moral sense because thev 
commit sins against man, or the property of man ? Would it 
not be far more logical to leave man out of the question and 
study brutes by themselves? In such a study, if it was 
found that brutes conducted themselves toward each other in 
a manner indicatintr a moral sense, why not give them the 
benefit of the doubt? 
Tour correspondent assume that man is morally resoonsi- 
ble and that brutes are morally irresponsible. Man, I sup- 
pose, is responsible to man. not to'brute. Why not brute 
resDonsible to brute, and not to man? 
Take the case of the mouse. Tour correspondent writes: 
"Shall we say it was conscious of the sin of thieving?" The 
question, to my mind, is not one of consciousness, b\it of the 
ability of the mouse to sin against man. Mankind reasons 
after this fashion : 
The mouse steals from the farmer's crops corn and wheat, 
which is a sin punishable by death. The farmer steals from 
nature's crops the fruit and nuts of the mouse, which is not a 
sin because the victim is not human. 
A man goes into the Rocky Mountains. He is waylaid, 
slaughtered and devoured by a grizzly. That is positive 
proof that the bear lacks moral sense. 
Another man goes into the mountains and slaughters and 
devours a beautiful gazelle. But that don't count. 
Passing through the city, I saw a savage bull dog rush out 
and fasten to the throat of a bu-d dog. The crowd gath- 
ered, and the bull dog's jaws were pried apart and the victim 
released. The bull, with eyes the color of the blood that 
dripped from his jaws, started homeward. Just before he 
reached his master's gate, another bird dog met him on the 
sidewalk. The dogs put their noses together for a moment, 
waeged their tails, and -separated. 
"Why didn't the savage bull fall upon this bird dog? 
Simply for the reason that they were neighbors, and the 
fierce brute was under a moral obligation to keep the peace 
with hia neighbors. 
"Oh!" I hear someone exclaim, ""Why then did he attack 
the first bird dog, if he possesses a moral sense?" 
Well, I am willing that hia acts be judged by the acts of 
human beings, and I will stand by the verdict. 
Nations fasten to each other's throats, and the press of 
each country urges on the confiict. Even the man in the 
pulpit eulogizes the heroism of the murderers nn his side. 
Poor Cuba has a bull dog at her throat, and two shameless 
administrations of this free country have not had enough 
moral sense to pry apart the jaws of the fierce brute. I will 
put these things in the scale opposite the bull dog. 
During the thirteen years that I have lived in the woods I 
have seen evidence enough to convince the most skeptical 
that all wild things possess a moral sense. From my notes I 
glean the following: 
A song sparrow, every spring and fall, takes possession of 
my cabin dooryard. He is a tyrant and a fighter, and other 
birds, from catbirds down, are afraid of him. If birds come 
into the yard while he is eating, he threatens them in a low, 
fierce, muttering tone for awhile, then darts at the nearest 
and the dooryard is filled with feathers. 
One of my chickadees came home with a broken leg and I 
expected the sparrow would make short work of him. To 
my surprise, the fierce little fighter, after driving all other 
birds away, hopped about the wounded chickadee, talking 
all the time in an undertone, without a harsh note. The 
chickadee seemed unconcerned, and from that first day until 
the sparrow left ia migratioo %\Q two were tbe best of 
friends. 
The same sparrow returned one spring and brought with 
him a male linnet, a bird that does not visit my dooryard. 
As usual with most birds, they arrived a week before the 
females. The song sparrow immediately preempted the 
dooryard and drove away every bird but the linnet. A week 
later the female sparrow arrived and with her was the mate 
to the linnet. The two linnets were allowed the freedom of 
the doorvard. They were invited guests and respected as 
such. Thev had become acquainted with the sparrows 
down South. Were told of a dooryard full of hfrap seed 
and invited to return with their new friends and see for 
themselves. 
If the actions of this little sparrow do not denote a moral 
sense, what do they denote? Hebmit. 
GrLOUCESTER, Aug. 25. 
BEiiTjEvtTE, la., Aiisr. 31. — Editor Forest and Stream: Hav- 
ing been a more or less constant reader of Forest and 
Stream during the past six or seven years, I have noted with 
interest the various arguments pro and con concerning the 
drvsr and other lower animals as compared with man— the 
higher animal. And while pleased with the very able man- 
ner in which the many friends of the lower animals have 
sustained their cause, I have been pained to observe that 
there is a certain point at which, with few exceptions, they 
deflect from the straight line of legitimate reasoning,^ and 
cheerfully assign to the higher animal (their own species — 
man) a something which they as cheerfully deny to all other 
species. 
An incident first — then we shall proceed. The writer once 
owned a small raonerrel dog — part Italian greyhound — ^known 
as Ah-Sid. He was an exceedinglv intelligent animal, 
capable of doing manv of the things which we call "tricks." 
ard seemed to understand nearly everything .«aid to him. I 
vrill take one incident in his career as esp-^cially appropriate 
in illustrating my point. Having piirchaspd a tame black 
rabbit as a pet, T at once proceeded to establish, if possible, 
friendly relations between Ah Sid and the newcomer. Al- 
thoueh the dog was a persistent hunter of wild rabbits, I 
experienced not the slightest difBculty in making him under- 
stand that the black rabbit was an exception to the rule; in 
fact, T simply told him so at the outset, and never 
wa'' obliged to reprimand him for any exhibited hos- 
tility to the new pet. They soon became excellent 
friends, and woe to the cur that attempted to interfere with 
the rabbit, for Ah-Sid considered himself the latter's especial 
champion. Nevertheless Ah-Sid was jealous of the rabbit, 
and at the same time detested cracker's as fo"d — until after 
the occurrence which I am about to relate. Being desirous 
of ascertaining what the rabbit preferred to eat, outside of 
green stuffs, I one day brought to mv office a small sack of 
crackers, and before giving them to the rabbit, offered one to 
the dog, which he nroraptly refused, as wai bis custom. I 
then gave a handful of the crackers to the rabbit, which he 
proceeded to munch with great satisfaction. Upon this 
Ah-Sid, who had been an interested spectator, arose, walked 
over to whpre the rabbit was eating, pushed him away from 
the heap of crackers and hurriedly gulped down every one 
of them himself. He then sneaked off to the furthest and 
darkest corner of the room, with head and tail hanging, and 
the most sheeoish expres^^ion on his face that I ever saw a 
dog wear. He knew he had done wrong, and without a 
word of reproval from me. The dog's actions most cer- 
tainly evidenced a moral conscientiousness, a capability of 
understanding the fact that in depriving the rabbit of the 
crackers which had bera given him and converting them to 
his own (the dog's") use he had committed a despicable act, 
of '"'hich te was heartily ashamed afterward. 
While the higher forms of mankind are undeniably far 
superior in pcope of intellect to the most intelligent of the 
lower animals, it is quite as certain that there are species of 
the human race having a considerably lesser amount of in- 
telligence and moral responsibility than the higher animals 
of the so-called brute creation. Man has made unto him- 
self religions, and from them and his heavens arrogantly 
excludes all but himself. In accord with the divine inimit- 
afele laws of nature, there must be a something in all things 
which does not nerish, but exists forever in some form or 
state: nothing altogether T>as8es away and is gon°. In rnan, 
call this something which lives forever a soul if you like: 
what can the soul be but the mind, that fountainhead of 
reasoning which governs every action? And do not the dog, 
the horse, the eleobant, the monkey, reason the same as man, 
with the !only difference of their having bepn endowed by 
nature with a lesser capacity than man? Then, possessing 
every attribute of the higher animal — man, why deny to 
them the blessed immortality so freely granted by that 
mysterious and omnipotent law of nature which rules the 
universe, and granted by that Power, not alone to them, 
but to the smallest plant that grows upon the hillside? 
CXARKE HeLME LoOMIS. 
Albinos. 
Ithaca, N. T — Mr. J. M. Smith recently shot an albino 
red squirrel, that proved upon examination to be a most 
perfect specimen of albinism. In size and general charac- 
teristics, barring color, which was snow-white, it was a 
pure type of the red squirrel. 
In the northwestern part of the city a white robin has 
been repeatedly seen of late. 
Last spring 1 observed an albino English sparrow. The 
little chap, impudent and pugnacious as his less conspicuous 
comrades, was hustling with might and main, at the head of 
a rebellious hord^ of his fellows, in quest of a breakfast. 
M. Chill. 
A Coot in a Fix. 
Boston, Aug. 31. — Editor Forest ayd Stream: I notice 
article by Ralph Stewart_ia recent issue of Forest and 
Stream, regarding a mudhen which was disabled by a 
mussel clinging to its beak. On Oct. 14, 1884. I shot a coot 
in precisely the same condition. The lower mandible was 
almost severpd,' and the bird was nearly exhausted. This 
occurred in Fox Lakes, 111. I have still the skm of the coot 
in my collection, also the shells of the bivalve. 
C. W. Chamberlain. 
A Tremendous Allig^ator. 
Ferguson, Berkeley County, S. C, Sept. 1. — Editor Forest 
and Stream: Mr. H. D. Swarts, of Scranton, Pa., shot an 
alligator on the Santee River, in South Carolina, last Tues- 
day, that measured over 18ft. in leogth. 
W. H, j4.C5S0if. 
I^wf^ M^i ^ttd ^ntt 
The "Briers" Pictures. 
There are twenty-nine illustrations in the current edition of Game 
Laws in Brief, most of them full pa^e half-tones, and all adtnirably 
printed. The book is a beauty, and well worth having for the illus- 
trations which, Mr. Charles Hallock says, so well represent America's 
wilderaess sports. The Brief gives all the laws of the United States 
and Canada for the practical guidance of anglers and shooters. As 
an authority, it has a long record of unassailed and unassailable ac- 
curacy. Forest and Stream Pub. Co. sends it postpaid for 23 cents, 
or your dealer will supply yoii. 
A NIGHT ON A TEXAS RANCH. 
It was a warm still night in the middle of August, we 
had just finished supper at the ranch. Mike was at the 
back of the house with the only lantern that was in work- 
ing order, washing up the plates and cups, and I was 
smoking my pipe on the gallery steps. It was so dark 
that every now and then I had to blow the smoke through 
my nose no make sure that my pipe was alight. 
Four or five hounds were lying aboxit, occasionally giv- 
ing notice of their presence by groaning as they turned 
over to rest the other side, or thumping on the gallery floor 
as they went for an unusually energetic flea. 
The silence was intense; now and then a screech owl 
wailed in the distance, or a frog in the little creek started 
to clear his throat, but as a rule even the crickets were too 
lazy to chirp, and the fireflies only flashed their tiny 
lamps at long intervals. 
One could just make out the dark outlines of the steep 
brush-covered hills that enclosed our narrow valley, and 
the black mass of the thicket below the small field that 
faced the bouse — a thicket of shin oak and black haw, 
and almost every other kind of brush that is hard to get 
through — a tangle of briars and vines so dense, that in the 
descriptive language of the country "you couldn't stick a 
butcher knife into it." 
Suddenly the silence was broken. From somewhere in 
the center of the thicket rose the long, lonesome cry of a 
hound that has discovered something interesting, and 
needs assistance. I recognize old Brenda's voice, and be- 
fore the echoes have died away down the valley, the 
hounds on the gallery are falling over each other down the 
steps. They scamper across the little field, crash through 
the old rail fence at the lower end of it, and for a few sec- 
onds there is silence. Then old Brenda uplifts her mourn- 
ful voice again; Bachelor's deep roar trembles through the 
woods; Rummager, Sultan and Duchess own to the line; 
Mike comes running out with the lantern, and we stand 
listening eagerly as one musical voice after the other takes 
up the chorus, while the hounds crash about through the 
tangled brush. 
Presently we hear little Duchess, halfway up the hill- 
side. The others are with her in a, moment; the loose 
rocks rattle down as they work their way to the top, and 
in another instant the whole pack in full cry is tearing 
away to the eastward. 
It is no use to think of following them across so rough a 
country on a dark night like this, so all we can do is to 
stand listening intently and praying that they may "tree" 
whatever they are after within hearing distance of the 
house. They would stay half the night at the tree, and 
the moon will be up in an hour or so; surely nothing that 
can climb will stay on the ground in front of them for 
long at the pace they are going. 
Away they race for about half a mile and turn slightly 
to the north, the music dying to a low murmur as they 
sink into each of the numerous steep gullies, that run into 
the north branch of the creek, and rising louder and 
clearer as they drive across the higher ground. 
We go through the house and sit on the fence at the 
back. Although we can see nothing we know just where 
they are and what they are doing. 
Little Duchess, the fastest hound in the pack, is sweep- 
ing along about 50yds. in the lead; then come Bachelor, 
Rummager and Sultan pretty well together, while the 
ancient Brenda toils along in the rear, making more noise 
than any of them. 
Now they are over a mile away, among the post oaks on 
the Divide, and we can only just hear them; if they cross 
the ridge it is doubtful if we shall see them again before 
morning. Fainter and fainter their voices fade away in 
the distance, and at last we hear them no more. 
Mike, who has been intensely excited, utters a terse 
monosyllable expressive of disgust, and we light up fresh 
pipes and speculate as to what they can be after. If it is 
a wolf they are as likely as not to leave the country; it 
can't be a deer, because old Brenda is much too knowing 
to run one 20yds. unless it is a cripple and she is told to 
do so. 
Listen! Tes, there is Duchess again, and presently we 
hear the others. They have gone right round the head of 
the creek and are coming back toward us on the other 
side of it.. 
Nearer and nearer they come, and now something is 
evidently coming down the steep hillside on the west of 
the house. We can even hear it panting and the slight 
rattle it makes as it gets through the fence. The hounds 
are not far behind, and come tearing down the hill and 
across the field, and directly they are all at fault for a 
moment in the same thicket that they started from. 
We are ou the gallery again now, and expect every mo- 
ment to hear the fierce baying that proclaims that the 
"varmint," whatever it is, has climbed a tree. 
But the end is not yet; the hounds are evidently unable 
to find out which way their chase has gone and crash 
noisily about through the thicket, giving tongue now and 
again in an undecided sort of way. At last old Brenda, 
using the experience gained in many a long run, works out 
the line, and in another moment they are off again, clam- 
bering up the hill in exactly the same place where they 
climbed it when they first started. 
Onoe on top they race along with a burst of melody for 
lOOyds. or so and then wheel around and come tearing back 
a^ain, down the hill and on to a little, open, flat close to 
the house, covered with a dense growth of broom weed. 
Here they scatter and circle for an instant, and then there 
is a loud roar followed by a yell of distress from Bachelor, 
and then all five of the hounds are baying furiously. 
mike btistles out with the lantern and I stop to ^rab tla^ 
