224 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Sbpt. 18, 1897. 
cave and soihe skeletons, among which a Spanish peseta 
was found. 
Ancient roads and monuments are apt to shrink before 
the camera and the measuring tape, hut doubtless there 
are traces of earlier occupation on the northern part of the 
island, though these traces would seem to be much more 
modern than the signs of savage life found further south. 
Turning back through the calm of the night, and with 
the swing of the ebbing tide, we managed to get oS the 
south point of Guarda hy noon the next day, and her6, 
sure enough, we found a northwester waiting for us; not a 
storm, fortunately, but a stiff breeze that was able to shove 
along even our dull craft at a 4 or 5 knot gait. By night 
we had crossed the "whale channel," which separates 
Guarda from the islands of the port, and, beating up the 
coast, we ran into tlie harbor and dropped anchor at sun- 
rise the next morning. 
That night was spent with my good friends at Las 
Flores, and I had the fortune to find atramp sailboat about 
to leave— two days later— for the great French mines of 
Santa Rosalia, whence I could return by steamer to Guay- 
mas, and thence on to the "land of the superior dollar." 
This little o ton sloop again found a strong northwester 
awaiting it outside the harbor. Little by little the wind 
increased and the sails diminished, until finally we took 
in all the regular canvas, and, hoisting a small awning for 
a square sail, made fine progre88._ 
There were fifteen souls, counting women, children and 
one dog, on this vessel, besides a good deal of freight, and 
sleeping room was scarce. Indeed, throughout my trip it 
was striking to see how, in spite of a scanty population in a 
desert land, there was always a crowd at the points where 
sleep or travel was desired. 
It was the genial captain of this boat, however, who 
gave me the information I wish to speak of. Don Pablo 
Rodriguez, during his long residence on the Gulf, had 
found many interesting things. On one occasion he had 
discovered a skeleton with a Spanish letter by it, which 
was deciphered in spite of its age, and proved to contain 
nothing of modern interest. At another time he had 
found a skeleton in a cave, and near it lay a small roll of 
rawhide, cut narrow and wound around itself like a strap. 
On this roll there seemed to be an inscription in strange 
characters, and Don Pablo tried to soften the material by 
soaking it five or six minutes in water. Unfortuately this 
treatment was inadequate, and the old rawhide broke in 
pieces as soon as an effort was made to unroll it. 
If this were in reality an aboriginal relic it would be of 
an almost unique description, and I am strongly in hopes 
that Don PabiO may hereafter find another example of 
such work. 
This, then, is the net result of the expedition, recounted 
dryly and briefly, though perhaps too long even so; but it 
would be hard to give any idea of the charm of the early 
morning with the great islands Tiburon, San Esteban, 
San Lorezzo and Guarda, rising blue out of the bosom of 
the Gulf, with their more distant peaks like islets or vast 
ships hull down, seeming to float separate from the parent 
masses, while lazy whales sport in the distance; and even 
the barren desolation of the lofty ridges seems to offer a 
stern defense to the harbors they shelter, and you feel as 
you cast anchor in the Port of the Angels that whatever 
storms may breed in the northern ranges or force their 
way from the fickle Pacific across the mountain barrier, 
the harbor can rest secure from eastern tempests, fenced 
as it is by the towering ramparts of the Angel of the 
Guard. 
Dr. Franceselic, a learned botanist of this place, tells me, 
after seeing the print, that the cirio is a rare species of 
Fcmguiera. The ocatillo is a common species of the same 
genus. The Gardens at Kew still lack the cirio, and are 
eager to get it, etc., etc. Indeed, Franceselic interested 
himself so far as to get the address of people at the San 
Juan mine to send for specimens. H. G. Dulog. 
New York State Association. 
Lyons, N Y., Sept. 8, — To Members of tjw New York 
State Association for the Protection of Fish and Oame: Agree- 
ably to Stclion 5, Aiticie Vil. of the Constitution of this 
Association, thert^ will be a mettine of the executive com- 
mittee thereof, Thursday, Oct. 14, 1897, at 1 o'clock P. M,, 
at the Yates Hotel in the cuy of S3 racuse. 
All clubs are requested to send a delegate to this meeting, 
as under Ihe constitution the executive committee shall con- 
sist of such delegates. 
This meeting is called far the purpose of deciding the 
advisability of making the call for the annual meeting of the 
Association earlier than January next; also for the transac- 
tion of such other business as may come before the com- 
mittee. 
Bo many requests have been made in relation to a change 
in holding our annual meeting that 1 feel it highly important 
that the matter have prompt consideration. 
The committee on by-laws and also the joint committee on 
reorganization of protection and. trap shooting branches are 
lequested to meet with us at that time. 
W. S, Gavitt, President. 
The Kentucky Quail Supply. 
MAYFiEiiD, Ky., Sept. 10.— Quail are quite plentiful here 
now, and the season promises to afford fine sport. 'They are 
more abundant than they have been for many ears, and 
doubtless the number would have been far greate aad it not 
been for the harvesting machines, which destroy Jd so many 
eggs. 
On my farm of only 160 acres I estimate the number of 
birds at 200, and they seem to be just as numerous in other 
portions of the country. 
There is more or less illegal shooting here every year, and 
if something is not done to prevent it the only game bird we 
have will soon be extinct. 
A few years ago the wild turkey roamed our forests, but 
now he is rarely seen, and is so wary that it is almost impos- 
sible to approach him. Last year I spent three days in the 
woods before I secured one for my Thanksgiving dinner. 
The few ducks we have here in the spring are pounced upon 
regardless of season. Now, I wish Foeest and Btkeam 
would advise us the best way to stop this unlawful shooting. 
Hayseed. 
The Foeest and Stream is put to press each week on luesday 
Correspondence intended for publication should reach ms at the 
atest by Monday, and as much earlier as practicable. 
OLD TIMES ON THE TRINCHARA RANGE. 
In Two Parts— Part Two. 
Perhaps you remember how Don Gordo Jones and I 
went home by way of a deep canon to what was called the 
Home Ranch. There were ten men there, my partner— 
Perley, and nine cowboys who were waiting for the round 
up to commence. They did not know when it would be, 
but as they were all under pay, and had lots of beef, bread 
and coffee, several old packs of cards, some month-old 
newspapers, and just enough interest in the Indian news 
that they heard occasionally to keep them amused and on 
the lookout all the time for something unexpected, they 
were quite contented. 
I had the pleasure of doing a good share of the cooking 
in some Dutch ovens and a few frying-pans in a big fire- 
place. I would rather cook than guard horses or herd 
them, and had chosen my job voluntarily. My stove, you 
will remember, was down to the outside ranch, and about 
a wagonload of things were hid among the rocks. I 
thought that even if the jacal had been burnt down, the 
stove might not be damaged much; and so I told Perley 
that one of us ought to go down and get the things. He 
offered to go and let me go out with the round-up if it 
started; but I knew he did not want to, and I had got a 
little sick of cooking, so I saddled up the only work horse 
there was at home, and concluded I'd slip down there in 
the night, get another horse and come back in the night 
with the load in the wagon which was down there. The 
boys had teased me so much about m}' home-run up 
through the canon that I did not want to ask any one to 
go with me, and so a little after dark I sneaked off' alone 
to regain my lost reputation. 
After a very poky ride of twenty miles or so, during 
which I saw quite a number of things which didn't look 
nice, but which turned out to be cattle, stumps or great 
big nothings, I came near the edge of the .Tim Hunt Canon; 
and dismounting and picketing my horse in the cedars, I 
sneaked down to the house, to find it unharmed. I after 
ward found that Sol Mays had come past the ranch the 
morning he got Lew's horses, had stopped, but couldn't 
get into the house, and so had built a fire to cook by; he 
hadn't put it out entirely, and after he left the wind had 
risen and blown some fire into my big woodpile of cedar 
and pinon. We had seen the smoke and thought it was 
the house. There was nothing else damaged; and so I 
went down to where the horses were in the deep little 
canon, and turning old Chumhead, the work horse, down 
with the rest, I camped for the night without a fire and 
tried to sleep, but couldn't. I wished then that I had not 
been so touchy and had got one of the boys to go with me. 
The night was long. I had my saddle blanket, and was 
cold; but at last toward morning went to sleep, and slept 
till late. After cooking some breakfast over a few dry 
sticks, the next thing was to catch Chumhead and an- 
other horse down in the canon; that took some time, and 
by the time the wagon was got down to the house and the' 
load in, it was about dark. Just as the sun set I pulled for 
home. 
That wagon made more noise than I ever heard one 
make before or since. The country looks different in the 
night, and I occasionally lost the trail. About 12 o'clock 
there came a heavy fog, and I stopped on the edge of a 
deep canon several miles off the road to the crossing 
place. 
Unhitching the horses, and taking them down the steep 
bank to water, and picketing them after that to the wagon 
wheels, I ate some cold grub and made a bed under the 
wagon with lots of blankets and turned in. After sleeping 
several hours, I was awakened by an awful yell, and be- 
fore I was well awake I was out from under the wagon 
with gun in hand. I thought the Indians had found me 
sure, and that all I could do was to get one or two of them 
before they got me. But I couldn't see anything; and soon 
I heard another blood-chilline, long-drawn howl about 
200yds. down the canon, and in about ten minutes another 
from the same animal further down, each time answered 
by its mate that was traveling a parallel course, but about 
a mile or so distant on a cedar ridge. It was a pair of 
mountain lions, or cougars, traveling. I got cold, for there 
was a misty rain, and I had been steaming hot in bed, so I 
crept in again and slept till light. When I took the horses 
to water, I saw the track of the great cat. If anyone tells 
you that a mountain lion don't scream it's a mistake, for I 
have heard them, and it isn't nice when you are alone in 
the dark. 
Hitching up, I soon found the trail, and landed at the 
home ranch in an hour or so. The boys had come very 
near coming after me when they found out I had gone 
alone, and were glad to see me and the stove. Perley 
seemed more pleased that the confounded pole house 
hadn't burnt down, and I wasn't talked to any more about 
my home run up the caiion. 
In a few days the Indian scare was about over, and we 
had word to meet the round-up the next Monday at 
Jones's Ranch, on the San Francisco Creek. Perley 
wanted all the horses brought up to the home ranch. Jim 
Hunt and I started one morning to go down and get them. 
Jim was one of the cowboys, and some of his brother's 
horses were with ours; I had been taking care of them, 
so oft" we went at daybreak. Chumhead was my mount, 
and we made good time. When we got down to the cafion 
pasture we found that four of the horses had broken out 
and strayed off. I told Jim to take the horses and start 
for home, and I would hunt the rest. Away he went, 
while I like a fool did not change horses, but went on 
hunting the strays on old Chumhead — I hunted till almost 
dark and then gave up and started for home on my tired 
horse. 
When I had gone about ten miles from home I dis- 
mounted in a little valley and let old Chum stand for a 
few minutes. The valley was the bed of a stream when 
there were rains, and where I crossed the rock was bare, 
comparatively flat and about 20yds. wide. I was on the 
flat rock, with the horse just behind me, and just as I was 
ready to mount again, I at last saw the Indians that I had 
not been trying to find. They were riding single file, com- 
ing! from the east parallel with|the canon, on the ridge right 
in front of me, and not over 150yds. or less away. They 
were on thin, woolly-looking ponies, riding in single file. 
They were so near that I could see their profiles by the 
sunset glow— big noses, thin faces, long hair; ugly, murder- 
ous-looking men; a quiver full of arrows on every one's 
back, with the feathered ends above their shoulders, and 
rifles crosswise before them on the saddle. They rode 
like ghosts, without a word, and I thought of several 
things. I was afraid my horse would whinny, but he was 
so tired he stood still, and I don't think he heard or saw 
them. I had made up my mind that if he did, and the 
Indians came down to investigate, I'd slip off back into 
the cedars and let them have Chura if they wanted him. 
But they went on down into a pocket Straight west toward 
the Purgatoire Cafion. That is, they rode down into a 
bay of upland with a canon of l,000fc. deep on each side 
of them and one of 3,000ft. in front. After they had 
passed well out of sight I started again for home and got 
there well into the night. 
Jim had come in early with all the horses, having found 
the strays on the road home. 
Two days after that the same Indians were seen on the 
other side of the Purgatoire on Van Bremer's range, and 
were stopped by some men on a round-up. They said 
that they were good Indians and were only just going out 
to steal some horses from the Utes, so they were let go. I 
asked Don Gordo how they had crossed the canon and he 
said he knew a trail down into the canon in the bottom of 
that pocket. I found it after a long search the next win- 
ter when I was hunting, and have packed several deer 
out of the cafion by it on a horse. I think it was very for- 
tunate that I did not meet them, for if I had I would not 
have been here writing this. 
We went on the round-up and had a pretty good tirne, 
especially when a skunk danced on old Jim Wilcox twice 
in one night when he was in bed. I'll tell all about the 
round-up some other time. Good night. 
W. J. Dixon. 
IN APACHE LAND. 
New York, Sept, S.— Editor Foi-est and Stream: 'Wat a 
long time I have wondered what has become of the large 
number of wild pigeons wbich twenty or twenty -five years 
ago were so abundant that they frequently cast shadows 
upon the earth , and were seen like clouds passing under the rays 
of the sun during the spring and autumn seasons in many of 
our Northern and Middle States, lam now in receipt of a news- 
paper clipping, taken from an El Paso paper, which states 
that these birds have at last been found in great numbers in 
the northwestern part of Chihuahua, Mexico, not tar from 
the terminus of the Rio Grande, Sierra Madre & Pacific 
Railroad— in the forests of the Sierra Madre Mountains. 
This is of particular interest to me, for last winter it was 
my privilege to take a most delightful trip through this region 
of country, that lasted six weeks. On the morning of Jan. 
13 I left El Paso in company with a few others, all of us 
mounted on good horses, for an extensive j )iimey "through 
this region. "We were well equipped with camping outfit, 
and our commissaiy was sufBciently stored with provisions 
to last at least two months. Besides these necessaries, we 
were well armed with Winchesters, and for close work our 
revolvers were of such a pattern and size as to make us 
a pretty formidable party either for Apaches, bear or moun- 
tain lion. 
Our first few days' experience was tedious, traveling 
through a sandy desert; but as we worked our way toward 
the southwest, in the course of a few days we had entered 
a new country, a new world, as it were, which became 
exceedingly atiraclive and interesting; while the further we 
continued our journey southward and westward the more 
beautiful it became, until finally we found ourselves en- 
tranced »by the charms of a wonderland. 
I shall hardly be able to dtscribe to you, at this time, my 
experiences in the canons, getting lost m the forest, the great 
tree growth of pine and oak, well fitted for the abiding 
places of that wildwood bird, which report states has now 
been seen in such large numbers. I question whether there 
is a better hunting ground to-day in the world for certain 
kinds of game than can be found in the Degollado Lands in 
Western Chihuahua. It is through this section that Gen, 
Crook pursued the indomitable Apache Indian Chief, 
Gerinomo; and it has only been in the past week or ten days 
that report3 have been made through the New York 4)aper8 
of finding the body of the "Apache Kid," a son of the Chief 
Gerinomo, which was discovered in a lonely spot in the 
Sierra Madre Mountains, quite near this locality— bleaching 
in the sun. This Kid was a terror, and his death will vir- 
tually wipe out any further alarm as regards the desperate 
Apaches. 
The land I have referred to was for many years the roam- 
ing ground for these Indians, and a place of such perfect 
security that only in recent years have people been found 
bold enough to lift the veil that has screened it from the 
outer world, while now it is only a question of a short time 
when the treasures hidden in its hills and the fruits of its 
rich and beautiful valleys will be advertised to the world. 
These things so useful and enjoyable to man, with a climate 
unequalled, will all add their share in making this part of 
the country a new Eden and a land of great promise. 
GfCO. RowiiANp. 
SONG BIRD EGGS. 
DoNNVii^LE, Ont., Sept. ^.—Editor Forest and Stream: A 
paragraph evidently crept unawares or unconsidered into 
the editorial columns of Foukst and Stkeam of Aug 28, 
for your valuable paper could not and would not knowingly 
advocate what that paragraph impUes. It says: 
The destruction of the song birds of this continent by the sale of 
their eggs for mere fanciful purposes is quite as fanciful as are the 
purposes. The entire proposition is fanciful, fantastic and fallacious. 
IE tnere were any such traffic in song bird eggs, the true way to protect 
American laid eggs would be to admit foreign eggs free, aod so lower 
the price and diicourage the native industry. To shut out foreign 
eggs, on the contrary, would mean a lessened supply, with conse- 
quently higher prices and a stronger stimulus to nesc-robbing activ- 
ities. 
Surely this ia Dingleyism run mad or carried to the 
pettiest, meanest end. Such a course would encourage the 
destruction of the eggs of the very birds which spend a large 
part of the year in the United States to gladden the hearts 
of thousands of American citizens, yet because their instinct 
carries them north to procreate their species, they must be 
punished by having their nests robbed and the eggs trafficked 
in by dealers who pander to the depraved tastes of boy col- 
lectors, who think of the eggs about as scientifically as they 
do of their marbles. 
Why you call the traffic "fanciful and fallacious"! cannot 
imderstand, for it is a well known fact that there are scores of 
