164 
[AUG. 2% 1898, 
quietly propelled the boat by strokes under the water so 
as to make no splashing. 
My end of the boat had turned toward the nearest 
bank, which was distant about 30ft,, and lying asleep on 
a log at the water's edge I noticed a moccasin of very 
fair proportions. 
Signing to my companion, I pointed to the snake, that 
he might hold the boat steady while I tried a shot at it 
with a small pocket pistol — a 22 cal. — that we always 
carried on our trips, and in the use of which constant 
practice had made me very expert. The snake's head 
was not visible, so I concluded to try a shot at the 
thickest part of the body, which showed clear on the 
highest part of the log, presenting a fair mark that I 
could hit nine times in ten shots, hoping to break his 
spine. My pistol was a single shot, which was usually 
no disadvantage in shooting at snakes, as they always 
took to the water if not disabled at the first skot. Tak- 
ing a very careful aim at the fair mark presented by the 
snake's body on the log, I fired. 
The boat must have moved slightly just at that mo- 
ment, for my shot struck J^in. lower than intended. 
Instead of going through the snake's body, it went be- 
tween it and the Ipg, and must have felt very much 
like a hot iron, judging by his actions. 
After a quick shiver and full length squirm, he began 
to bow his back and spit like an angry cat. 
This was so very unusual that it amused us very 
much, and we sat laughing heartily for a moment or 
two, expecting every instant that the snake would take 
to the water and disappear. 
Suddenly the snake swung round with its head 
stretched out in our direction, and plunged into the 
water, but did not disappear. Threshing through the 
water like mad, he made straight for me with an air of 
business that cured my attack of laughter promptly and 
effectually. 
I was paralyzed with fright, but could not believe that 
the snake was really coming to attack us, and sat look- 
ing at his approach, expecting every moment that he 
would dive or turn aside. 
But he did neither. Straight on he came until he 
was but a few feet from me as I sat in the boat, and 
then I recovered my powers of locomotion and most in- 
gloriously fled. There was no choice of routes, so 
straight down the long, slender boat I dashed toward the 
end my companion occupied, clearing the middle seat 
witk a jump that nearly drove the bottom out. My com- 
panion had started up with a startled cry to "Look 
out!" and had grasped a heavy paddle lying in the bot- 
tom of the boat, but seeing me bearing down on him 
in a wild flight, that was certain to carry us both over 
the end of the boat into 20ft. of water, he dropped the 
paddle, stooped low, and caught me with an approved 
football tackle hold just above the knees, and together 
we fell with a crash against the end seat, my head strik- 
ing with such force that I was dazed and rendered al- 
most unconscious. Springing to his feet, my friend 
snatched up the paddle and ran to the end of the boat 
that I had fled from, and found the snake still in pur- 
suit, although the boat had moved some distance from 
the impetus given by the sudden arresting of my flight. 
Not until he had received a blow that almost disabled 
him did that pugnacious serpent retire from the at- 
tack. He then swam back to the bank and crawled out 
by the very log where first we had found him. 
When I had sufficiently recovered from the knock on 
the head, and gathered my scattered wits, we held a 
council of war, and there was a division in the camp. 
The man who was not snake-timid was in favor of go- 
ing right in and whipping out the enemy with our heavy 
paddles; while the man who was most decidedly snake- 
timid was in favor of a general and immediate retreat 
from the unpleasant and, to him, unfortunate location. 
We finally compromised by landing the boat at a point 
some distance from the enemy, and the able-bodied 
contingent went to the attack alone, while the sick and 
wounded stood guard at the boat. The snake refused 
to retreat to the water, and was killed with a long 
pole while still showing fight. This is no exaggeration 
of the attack of the only moccasin that I ever saw "carry 
the war into Africa." Lewis Hopkins. 
Albino Swallow. 
Lakeside Park, N. Y., Aug. 13. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: A few days since, while crossing the bridge 
at this place, I saw a white bird flying over the water. 
I had only an instant's view of it, and my first thought 
was that it was a dove, only that it seemed too small. 
I dismounted from my wheel and returned to the center 
of the bridge, thinking to get another view of it. I 
had not long to wait, when to my surprise a perfectly 
white eaves swallow came flying over the bridge, within 
30ft. of me. When I reported the observation at the 
hotel a lady said that she had seen a white bird flying 
with the swallows, and wondered what it could be. 
Since then, I presume, it has been reported to me by 
more than a dozen people. One party said he saw one 
seven miles up the lake; another party saw it two miles 
down the lake shore. 
It is possible, but hardly probable, that there is 
more than one albino swallow here; and undoubtedly 
the bird I first saw is the same that has been reported 
to me so often. 
I was wheeling in the country about a mile and a 
half from here this forenoon, when I saw a number 
of swallows flying over a clover field. Among them 
was the albino, and to my great surprise and pleasure 
it flew over my head twice within one minute, and as 
it was the- only swallow that passed over the road I 
thought it wanted to show to me its exceeding beauty 
of pure white, or was it the harbinger of the "white 
wings of peace" that within the next hour I saw pro- 
claimed in the morning papers? J. L. Davison. 
Malden, Mass., July 27. — Editor Forest and Stream; 
My friends who are lovers of the rod and gun and 
nature's works, but cannot be in the field, don't know 
what they miss if they do not read your paper. It is a 
wonderful solace when We are blue and thinking of friends 
on their vacations, while we are chained at home. 
C. E. B. 
Some Animal Pets.^-IV, 
San Francisco, Aug. 5. — It is a misnomer to call this 
a chapter on animal pets, inasmuch as i purpose drift- 
ing off on to birds, and perhaps should call it pets in 
general. 
In my boyhood days, in the rear of the old country 
home, an immense elm tree had grown until its upper 
branches reached the attic window, the attic being rele- 
gated to the use of us boys as a playroom. One branch 
of the tree brushed the window sill within easy reach of 
the hand, and on this a pair of robin redbreasts built 
a nest, showing their confidence in us. This was net 
misplaced, for we took care not to disturb them: and 
although we sat at the open window within aft. of the 
nest, and after the complement of eggs was laid, the 
mother bird proceeded to perform her natural duties by 
setting on the nest, and seemed to take pleasure in 
watching us. We brought bread crumbs and laid them 
on the window, and retiring, watched to see if she would 
notice them. At first she did not, but later in the day, 
perhaps because the male .bird was amiss in his duties 
in bringing her food, or shirking his turn in setting, and 
she became hungry, she came to the window during our 
absence, for when we returned later the crumbs were 
gone. 
We continued to supply bread crumbs with an occa- 
sional worm, all of which disappeared, One day, on 
account of absence, we omitted the supply until late 
in the day; and when, toward evening, we carried up the 
usual rations, much to our surprise she hopped off the 
nest, and regardless of our presence lit on the open 
window sill, and ate the crumbs with avidity. Ever after 
whenever we brought food she would hop down and 
partake, and in a few days would eat out of our hands 
without the least timidity, and finally would keep her seat 
on the nest and allow us to feed her from our hands. 
When the little chicks made their appearance, she 
would allow us to handle them, and seemed pleased at 
our notice of them. 
The male bird would sit on the limb and eye the pro- 
ceedings, apparently not quite approvingly at first; but 
seeing that no harm came from such familiarity, became 
reconciled, and by way of expressing his gratitude for 
the attention would carol his sweetest songs for our 
benefit. He evidently appreciated our relieving him from 
the onerous duty of providing for the wants of a numer- 
ous family. 
When the young birds were able to leave the nest, their 
first essay was a short flight to the window sill, and 
thence into the attic, hopping over the floor. We fixed 
a box for them, into which the old bird gathered them 
at night, until in a week she probably said to herself, 
"This is too much luxury ; and it is time you youngsters 
were taught to take care of yourselves and learn your 
duties." So one day they all disappeared, but we saw 
them down in the orchard. Almost every morning the 
male bird would give us his serenade. Later in the sea- 
son they all disappeared, and we saw them no longer; 
but the next spring the old birds appeared and took 
possession of their nest, and proceeded to raise a family, 
and were fed as usual, and this continued for two suc- 
ceeding years. 
The third year they failed to put in an appearance, un- 
til one day the male bird was on the branch as I 
opened the window, and seemed dejected and low 
spirited. He hopped onto the edge of the nest and 
surveyed it sorrowfully. He had evidently come to tell 
us that he had lost his mate and was a widower. If 
he ever took another, he probably was unable to pur- 
suade her to assume her duties at the old homestead, she 
arguing perhaps that the associations were too fresh in 
his mind and might lead to comparisons, on the principle 
that the second wife so universally banishes the portrait 
of number one to the attic, when she, as number two, 
takes her place. But it is seldom that we know of an 
instance on the part of number two to object to taking 
possession of the family nest, especially if a fine estab- 
lishment. Her fine sense of the conditions do not run 
to a point in such conflict to her interests. 
What the subsequent fate of our pet robin and his later 
matrimonial ventures were we never knew, as we saw 
him no more. No doubt he had to work harder to 
supply his families than he did when the happy family in 
the old elm branch were under the care of us boys, and 
he had little to do but sing us a song occasionally. 
There are a good many similar cases in our experience 
where a man don't do even as much as that toward ful- 
filling his obligations to those dependent upon him, leav- 
ing these oppressive cares to the public or friends. 
Referring to the susceptibility of birds to tameness 
under careful and kind treatment, we have so many in- 
stances, as in the case of Mrs. Minnie Moore-Willson, 
who writes of her pet cranes, that it is not impossible to 
believe that almost any species could be domesticated. 
Although, come to think of it, I will except one. On 
one occasion, when I was about sailing from Poryta, 
Peru, a native to whom I had shown some favors 
brought aboard a y r oung condor. Tt was the personifica- 
tion of viciousness, apparently, and proved to justify this 
opinion. As sailors are especially fond of anything in 
the pet line, I turned him over to the forecastle. He 
was an enormous bird, and on the voyage grew to 
full size. But, oh, what a vicious, spiteful, ungrateful 
specimen he proved to be. He would bite the hand 
that fed him, and at times would take possession or. 
the forward deck. We made a small chain fast to his leg 
and confined him under the anchor deck. Occasionally 
a sailor would come within reach of his bill and talons 
and would suffer. Except for the fact of his being a 
rare specimen of the great South American condor of 
the Andes, I would have thrown him overboard; but 
concluded to endure him until arriving in San Francisco, 
when I donated him to the menagerie out at Wood- 
ward's Garden, and was glad to get rid of him. He 
was a specimen of the most unmitigated viciousness that 
I deemed possible in the way of a bird. He nearly 
created a famine aboard the ship, for he was as voracious 
as a shark. A pound or two of salt junk was nothing. 
I think he could have eaten the whole of the horse that 
generally constitutes Jack's rations. As for domestic 
pets, I withhold my approval of South American con- 
dors. 
It has been asserted that quail could not be tamed, 
especially California quail; and I was inclined t» that 
belief until seeing evidence to the contrary. 
I had made efforts myself to do so by securing one 
brood but a few days old, which it was necessar}' to feed 
forcibly. But no amount of handling seemed to have 
any effect. They r would flutter and dash against the 
cage whenever they were approached. I tried them 
separately, but it was useless, and I finally gave them 
their liberty. Going into a saloon one day, I was greatly 
surprised at seeing a California cock quail strutting up 
and down the bar counter, with that air of pompous 
pride peculiar to the California species. The fellow 
was perfectly tame, and would light on the barkeeper's 
shoulder when called; but the strangest thing was that 
he would drink beer, of which he appeared very fond; and 
when I held out my glass toward him he immediately 
ran toward it, and dipped his bill into it several times 
with seeming gusto, but evidently knew when he had 
enough. Association with mankind had brought about 
the usual results in demoralization so far as to teach 
him bad habits, but not to the extent of going beyond 
the limit of prudence and good sense. Therein the bird 
rose superior to the man. 
I made extravagant offers for the little fellow, but 
no amount would induce the saloon man to part with 
him, as he was a great attraction and brought custom, 
especially of every sportsman in town. "That reminds 
me" of a similar case of the first cargo of Japanese 
goods and curios that came here from Japan. Among 
them was a very ingeniously constructed mermaid, com- 
posed of the head and shoulders of a young monkey, the 
rest of the body a very skilfully grafted fish. It was 
impossible to discover where the monkey left off and 
the fish began, and the specimen was an enigma to sev- 
eral scientific professors who examined it. On the sale 
of the cargo at auction, bidding for the mermaid was 
very spirited. It was finally knocked down to one 
Jones, a saloon man, at $150, who hung it up in his 
saloon, of which he changed the name to "The Mer- 
maid." The original cost of the curio was 35 cents. It 
was thought to be a good joke on Jones, but he de- 
clared he never made a more profitable investment in 
his life. The price the mermaid brought stimulated 
trade in that line, and large orders were sent to Japan 
for mermaids, overstocking the market, until they 
were a drug and were of dull sale at 25 cents, allow- 
ing all the doubting professors to discover by dissec- 
tion how they were constructed, and a consequent re- 
versal of their former judgment that the original one 
was a simon pure genuine article. Professors do some- 
times slip up. 
Podgers. 
In the Woods. 
The mere hunter or fisherman loses the best part 
of his life if he is not something of a naturalist. That 
is, one who studies the life of the forest, as well as hunts 
and fishes. There is nothing more beautiful in the 
world than nature in its wild moods. And one who 
has an eye and mind for these beauties need not care 
if the fish are not so easily seduced by the fisherman's 
wiles, or the birds are wild and the bag is light. 1 
have thought of this years ago, but never felt it so 
much as during the past summer in this delighful and 
picturesque part of the Southern woods. Here it is 
mostly all woods, not nearly one-tenth of the land hav- 
■ ing been cleared for cultivation. Most of it, however, 
is held for the value of the fine timber, which exists 
in abundance, and along with the facilities for rearing 
game thus afforded, the most agreeable climate, the 
entire absence of tormenting flies, which make the 
Northern woods almost unbearable, and the silence 
broken only by those sounds which delight the soul I 
of the naturalist and the sportsman, the perfectly pure 
water flowing from uncontaminated springs— hundreds 
of them within gunshot of each other — gathering into 1 
brooks, making music as they sing, rippling over the 
clear rocky beds, or running down the innumerable 
cascades; these, and as well the gorgeous flora of the 
whole summer season, and uncountable curious phe- 
nomena of wild nature, all go to give a charm to the ; 
sportsman's mind able and eager to study and enjoy the 
scenery. 
The forest is blazing at times with the brilliant azaleas, 
beginning in April and lasting until June. Then come 
the Kalmias, lining the mossy rocks of the gorges along 
the banks of the streams, small aud great; then the 
rhododendrons, with their great clusters of bloom, 
scores, hundreds, and at times, on the largest bushes, 
thousands of them, actually filling the forests with glori- 
ous color; at the same time the sweet tuberose-scented 
azalea viscosa, or clammy azalea, with its pure white 
sweet-scented clusters of flowers, cover the ground with \ 
their lower growth; the beautiful little saxifrages cover 
the rocks, half hidden among the vari-colored mosses, 
and dripping with the moisture which everywhere ex- , 
tides from these cliffs and goes to feed the_ myriad 
springs, making the clear brooks and rivers in which 
the trout live and breed, and wait the delusive fly which 1 
tempts them into the fisherman's basket. These, with 
the loud whirring of wings of the pheasant or partridge, 
the pleasing cry of the Bob White, and the quiet, en- 
ticing answer of his mate, and with endless variety of ] 
woodland phenomena, all go to make the man who 
loves fish and birds well, but nature more, entirely care- 
less of how the world wags elsewhere, so that he 
"Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
Sermons in stones, and good in everything." il 
I was interested in the matter of the honey dew men- 
tioned recently in Forest and Stream. There is , 
philosophy in this; it is not a mere incident, but one of 
the curious works of nature. The explanations given 
by several correspondents recently, however, do not 
go to the root of this matter. It is the result of a 
common function of vegetable growth applicable to 
trees mostly. During the winter the sap of the tree 
has been accumulating mostly in what is known as the j 
cambium layer of it. This is the new annual growth 
of wood lying between the bark and the last year's j 
growth. The sap has been gradually growing sweeter, 
and as we know with the maples and the hickories, and . 
even the white pine, this sap is very sweet. About the 
