Nov. s, 1898.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
367 
■silent tactics. He could be heard thrashing the trees 
land crowing like any rooster, only many times as loud, 
land as he noisily sought some other part of the forest 
Ithe crowing was frequently repeated, until at last it 
■vanished in the distance. When asked more particularly 
las to his crowing, the Samoans say that it is exactly 
■like the crowing of roosters. They are positive that it 
lis not the sound of some runaway domestic fowl. For 
■two reasons they are satisfied of this; for one thing the 
■sound is far louder than any mere fowl could produce, 
land the repetitions of the note until it vanishes are at a 
Irate of progress quite beyond the powers of the bird; 
■the other reason is that it is a well-known fact that 
'runaway fowl cannot live in the bush, This latter is a 
■point very well taken, for between the field rats and the 
■dampness fowl soon perish after they leave the settled 
[ground. 
There is an equal host of eye-witnesses, men who have 
Iseen crowing snakes. They never vary from one an- 
lother in their descriptions of what they have seen. Ex- 
(Icept for one spot of special conditions it is never seen 
Ion the ground, but always on the tops of the highest 
Itrees, either stretched out along a branch or gliding 
■from tree to tree with remarkable rapidity. It is long 
land slender, rarely is one spoken of as under two arm 
■spans, or 12ft., seldom is one described as exceeding 
Itwice that measurement. Its color is spoken of as uni- 
form, a steel blue or slate, and free from spots or other 
Imarkings. When at rest it is difficult to distinguish 
lit from the branch on which it may be stretched out, 
[when in motion it goes far too fast for any detail to 
Ibe observed. The only exception to its arboreal habit 
lis in many accounts reported from a particular spot in 
Ithe mountains at the rear of Apia. This is on the Ala 
jSopo, the trail from Apia to Siumu. on the other coast 
jpf the island. Shortly before this difficult trail enters 
Ithe Tuasivi morass on the mountain top it touches 
■the bank of one of the many small streams which unite. 
Ito form the Vaisingano River. On the very bank of 
■the stream there is a small open place about as 
large as an ordinary room. It is a well marked 
[feature, for it is one of the very few resting 
Ispots in the whole journey. On the other side 
lof the brook the bank is very nearly straight 
jup and down, a miniature cliff of about 6ft. in 
[height. At one spot in this cliff is a smoothly-worn 
Itrough, about a foot wide, and reaching back from the 
■water at an easy angle. Here the Samoans say they 
►sometimes surprise the great serpents drinking at the 
►stream. As soon as they become aware of the presence 
fcf men they dart with great rapidity tip the runway, and 
lup the trunk of the tree at which it ends. As soon 
as they have reached a place of safety, the crowing of 
Ithe rooster rings out through the forest, where no 
[rooster ever goes. The runway is very smooth, as 
[though packed hard by frequent use, and the trunk of the 
tree mentioned as affording the avenue of escape is cer- 
tainly stained with soil for some distance from the 
ground. 
White people are more chary about mentioning this 
remarkable reptile. Yet there are many reliable people 
who say that they have either heard it or have seen it. 
This is about as much as can be said. The ear-wit- 
nesses have heard the crowing, the eye-witnesses have 
seen an arboreal serpent of large size. The proof will 
not be complete until some one shall be both eye-wit- 
ness and ear-witness, shall see the snake in the very act 
lof a crowing which shall reach his ears. Until that 
combination is made there will always be those who 
are in doubt as to the crowing snakes of Upolu, but it 
is safe to say that proof or no proof the Samoans will 
alwavs believe in the animal as a peril of the jungle. 
Llewella Pierce Churchill. 
About Trees. 
In a recent paper on the "Louisiana Lowlands" Col. 
Mather speaks of the leaves having changed to the 
colors of autumn, although there had been no frost. 
While there is no doubt that in the North the frost in- 
creases the brilliancy of the leaves, Col. Mather is per- 
fectly correct in attributing the autumnal colors to the 
maturing of the leaves and the drying up of the sap, in- 
stead of the action of frost; but still at least three people 
in four will dispute this, and they will do it because their 
father or some one else has told them so, and they have 
never taken pains to observe for themselves. There are 
many other popular errors regarding the circulation of 
sap, and the growth of trees, which are so firmly believed 
that no one ever takes pains to investigate, as they think 
that what has been believed so long must be true. 
Probably nearly nine out of every ten believe that 
sap ascends in the spring and returns in the fall. Al- 
though I have never been able to find anything to the 
contrary in any book I have ever seen, I know from 
long and careful observation that this is not so. The 
sap never descends. It fulfills its office in causing the 
growth of the leaves and adding another to the rings, 
which indicate the annual growth of the tree. So soon 
as the leaves fall, the sap begins to reascend. This can be 
proved in various ways. Any farmer who has cut a 
pile of hardwood in November has noticed the sap 1 
flies gathering around the ends of the sticks on warm 
days. They are attracted by the sap, which can be seen 
issuing from the ends of the sticks, which sap had al- 
ready begun to ascend before the sticks were cut. Any 
hunter who has set a line of log traps for sable has 
noticed the sap flowing from maple sticks in warm 
days in November. Partridges begin to bud in Novem- 
ber, and find something besides dry twigs or they would 
not bud. But a still more convincing proof is that in 
some warm falls I have known maple syrup to be made 
and sold in quantities of several gallons at a time. Pussy 
willows, where growing in wet places, often bloom in 
warm November and December. One can see that the 
buds on the horse chestnuts are swelling in January. 
The sap which is proved to be present in all these cases 
is not the sap which went up -in the spring descending, 
but new sap, which is going up. No one ever speaks of 
the sap in a corn stalk going down in the fall. It has 
fed the leaves and matured the corn, and its work ended 
there, so in the tree each year the sap has finished its 
work when the leaves have matured, and a new crop of 
sap at once begins to take its place. Of course, this 
sap cannot ascend when the wood is frozen, but when- 
ever the wood is thawed it keeps ascending. 
Another popular error is that trees in growing carry 
their branches up with them as they grow; or to make it 
plainer, that a limb which is 5ft. from the ground will 
in time be 10ft. The fact is that limbs grow as much lower 
on the lower side as they do higher on the Upper side, 
and no more, A limb which is an inch in diameter, if 
it grows to be 3in., will be an inch further from the 
ground on the upper side and an inch nearer on the un- 
der side. The forks or crotches in trees often get to be 
considerable higher, from the two branches which form 
it growing together as they increase in size. The top 
of the tree grows up, but limbs do not rise above where 
they are when they first start out. 
Few people realize what an immense pressure is re- 
quired to send the sap up through the solid wood. If 
any one will try to force water through only a foot of 
just such wood, they will begin to understand this. Be- 
sides the upward pressure, there is a great lateral pres- 
sure. I once tried plugging a bit hoie with a piece of 
dry poplar which projected an inch beyond the tree. In 
a few minutes the sap was flowing as freely as if there 
were a gimlet hole through, it. I then tried a piece 2in. 
long, and soon it began to run freely through that. 
Three inches was tried with like result, except that it 
took longer, and it was not till I tried a piece 4in. long 
that the sap ceased to force its way through to the end, 
and began to creep out at the sides about half an inch 
from the end. 
I once saw a great curiosity, which I wish some of 
your readers could explain. At the Outlet House, at 
Moosehead Lake, was a clearing made by Henry T. 
Wilson, the proprietor. In this clearing was a small 
juniper tree, which he had left, from which some one 
had removed a section of bark 4in. in length entirely 
around it. The wood in this part was not only dry, but 
was sun-cracked, so that I inserted a knife blade one- 
fourth of an inch. The tree was green and thrifty, and 
by actual recorded measurement measured i>4in. both 
sides of where the bark had been removed, and only 
iin. where there was no bark. Can any of your readers 
tell me how sufficient nourishment passed through this 
section, which was denuded and dry, to cause the part 
above the wound to increase in growth as fast as that 
below? 
Many are in error as to the rate of growth of trees. _ I 
heard a professor in what is now called the University 
of Maine, in a lecture before a forestry association; state 
that "under the most favorable circumstances" it re- 
quired 100 years for a white pine to grow to be a foot 
in diameter; 115 years for a spruce, and 125 for a juniper 
to attain the same size. A few years after I had occasion 
to cut a piece of timber which I could prove had been 
but sixty-five years in growing since the land was in 
pasture. I took accurate measurement of many of the 
trees. I found one 32m. in diameter a foot above the 
ground, another 3oin., and scores 24 and upward. Also 
many spruce 24 to 25m. This land was extremely rocky 
and the soil very poor. There was a great difference in 
the size of trees of the same age — those on the edge of 
the cleared land being in some instances twice the size 
of those further back, which were crowded. 
There are many things about the growth of trees which 
I should like to know, as, for instance, is the sap in 
the same tree all of same quality in every particular? If 
so, how does part make bark, part leaves, and in case 
of nut and fruit-bearing trees the fruit? In case 
of a nut-bearing tree, if the sap is all the same, how does 
part form the shell and part the meat of the nut? Also 
if the sap is all the same, how is it that some kinds of 
apples, like the Baldwin, only bear in any quantity on 
alternate years? If it is the same sap and the quantity 
is sufficient, why is not the same effect produced every 
year, instead of regularly on each alternate year, while in 
other varieties it is done nearly every year? If anyone 
is able to answer any of these questions from_ actual 
knowledge (not theory), I should be greatly obliged to 
them if they would state the facts. If no one knows, then 
there is room for a good deal of study. 
M. Hardy. 
The Crow as a Nest Robber. 
Milton, Vt, Oct. 24. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
While the Vermont legislators are passing laws on 
wolves and panthers (animals that probably do not ex- 
ist within the borders of the State), they are overlooking 
a bird that is all too common within our borders, and 
does far more damage indirectly than any other furred 
or feathered denize'n of our forests. This bird is the com- 
mon crow. From personal observation I have found it 
to be one of the greatest enemies of bird life we have. 
I am willing to admit that to a certain extent the crow is 
an insectivorous bird, and destroys many injurious in- 
sects, but on the other hand the harm that this black 
brigand of the woods does in destroying by wholesale 
the eggs and young of our insectivorous birds is enor- 
mous, and is, I think, one of the reasons of the diminish- 
ing numbers of our songsters. 
One morning in the summer of 1897 a pair of _ crows 
raided a row of maples near my residence, and 'before 
they were discovered had disposed of the contents of 
nine birds' nests, all containing eggs. The species were 
as follows: Four robins, two purple linnets, two chip- 
ping sparrows, and one least fly-catcher. Assuming that 
each nest contained four eggs and that all the eggs 
hatched it would seem that thirty-six birds had been 
destroyed, and all these are birds which live almost 
wholly on insects, and which, if they had been suffered 
to live, would have done much to rid us of insect pests. 
The incident I have related is by no means an uncom- 
mon one, as during the nesting season I frequently find 
nests of all species of birds with the crushed remains of 
the eggs within, remnants of a crow repast, and dozens 
of times have I surprised them in their depredations, 
which many times, I am glad to say, I forever ended 
with a charge of shot. Nor do they confine themselves 
to eggs, for to their palates the young nestlings are choice 
titbits, and are either at once gobbled or carried home 
for the refreshment of the young crows. The damage 
a pair of these birds do in destroying- eggs and young 
during a season must be enormous, and as the insec- 
tivorous birds that are the best friends the agriculturist 
has are the chief sufferers, he that would check the in- 
sect pests that threaten his crops should, as the first 
move, get out his gun and kill all the crows he finds, and 
in the increasing numbers of birds that benefit the farm 
and garden he will reap a rich reward. 
If State Legislatures would find out for themselves 
how much the crow is responsible for, instead of vot- 
ing bounties for animals that do not exist, they would 
provide a sinall bounty for crows, and the result would 
materially lessen at no distant day the appropriations that 
are made from time to time for fighting such noxious in- 
sects as the forest worm, the tent caterpillar and many 
others equally harmful. 
The game birds also suffer from the crow's depreda- 
tions, for in the broken eggs strewn about the nests 
of the ruffed grouse I have in several instances recog- 
nized the crow's work, and on one occasion I caught 
the thief making off with one of the eggs impaled on 
his bill. No doubt many of Forest and Stream 
readers will disagree with me on this subject, but from 
careful observation for the past fifteen years I have 
found the crow to be one of the most persistent enemies 
of bird life, and fit only to be classed with the pot and 
plume hunters as pests that can only be coped with 
through immediate and effective legislation, and the 
State that will add the name of the crow to its bounty 
list will have taken a great step in bird protection. 
Kenewah. 
Pennsylvania Elk Horns* 
Morgantown, W. Va., Oct. 22. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: From my earliest recollections I have heard 
old-timers speak of the elk horns that used to be found 
in Pennsylvania in early days; and in describing the size 
they invariably said: "By standing them on their points 
a large man could walk under them straight." 
I have killed many elk in the Rocky Mountains, and I 
think I have seen some of the largest antlers that grow 
on elk in that locality, but I have never seen any that 
would come near comparing in size with the above de- 
scribed. Were the elk of Pennsylvania and the Fast 
the same as those in Wyoming and the West? Is it 
probable that the sizes as given by the venerable for- 
fathers are overdrawn? Emerson Carney. 
[The Pennsylvania elk was of the same species now 
found, in the West. The horns are enlarged as seen 
through the halo of time.] 
mt\e and 0nn. 
Proprietors of fishing and hunting resorts will find it profitable 
to advertise them in Forest and Stream. 
The "Briefs" Pictures. 
The illustrations in the current edition of Game Laws in Brief, 
Mr. Charles Hallock says, well represent America's wilderness 
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 
accuracy. Forest and Stream Pub. Co. sends it postpaid for 25. 
cents, or your dealer will supply you. 
Buck Fever. 
Who is there that loves to roam the woods with a 
gun, and like all good men and true has inherited from 
savage ancestors in the distant past a fair share of 
the hunting instinct, who has not at some time or 
other suffered from that most annoying complaint known 
as "buck fever?" 
For a well-developed case of the disease it is only 
necessary for the patient to have a loaded gun- in his 
hand, and be within easy range of some wild animal 
that he is very anxious to slay. The first attacks are 
generally the most violent, and by degrees the sufferer, 
if he still persists in hunting, becomes as it were in- 
oculated and to a greater or less extent fever proof. 
The symptoms of the disease are somewhat as follows: 
Having found a deer feeding and undisturbed, some 
little distance away, the patient crawls carefully through 
the bush, becoming more and more excited the nearer 
he gets to his game, and at last finds that he is in a 
position for a good shot, and can get no nearer. As 
soon as he realizes this, his heart begins to rattle against 
his ribs, making a noise that he feels certain can be 
heard for a quarter of a mile at least; he also finds 
that, although he has been moving with the utmost cau- 
tion, he is very much out of breath, his mouth and 
throat are as dry as the inside of a limekiln, and a sort 
of mist forms in front of his eyes, so that the deer before 
him appears indistinct and shapeless. On putting the 
stock of his rifle to his shoulder, the muzzle describes a 
series of uncertain circles in the air, and the foresight will 
.not dwell for an instant on the spot where the bullet 
ought to go; perhaps he takes his rifle down for a sec- 
ond or two, gives a futile little gasp for breath, and tries 
again, with the same result; at last, in despair, he pulls 
the trigger with a jerk, and gives a sigh of unutterable 
relief as the deer bounds off untouched. After a mo- 
ment's rest, devoted to steadying his shattered nerves, he 
begins to think that he may not have missed, and goes to 
examine the tracks and look for blood; he now finds 
that he has a very uncertain idea as to where the deer 
was standing when he shot at it, and so, if Jie is wise, he 
gives it up and goes back to camp, thinking the matter 
over and resolving to do better next time. If he is not 
wise, which is sometimes the case, he arrives in camp 
with a long story of a wounded buck, and tries to per- 
suade some more experienced hunter to go back with 
him and help him to trail it up. 
Sometimes, but very seldom, even when suffering from 
the fever, one makes a lucky shot, and I killed my first 
deer in a rather remarkable way. We had just come 
out, and had been at the ranch for about three weeks, and 
being unaccustomed to such luxuries, had become most 
heartily tired of a diet of bacon and beans for breakfast 
and dinner, with the, sajne delectable dish warmed up in 
the frying pan for supper; and so one evening I took my 
