2^6 
FOREST AN£) STREAM. 
[Marcii 2S, 1S9C). 
Sheldrakes. 
Col. Mather, in his article on "Domesticating Wild 
fCcwl," under the section, "The Hollow Tree Nesters," 
says: "If the other mergansers or sheldrakes nest m 
trees I do not know, but I suspect them o£ it." 
His suspicions are correct in regard to the American 
merganser (M, amencanus) . These birds nest in hol- 
lows in trees. I have seen twelve eggs taken from a 
nest which was in a hole in a green maple overhanging 
tlie water. They sometimes nest quite a distance back 
from the water. A friend in whose word I place implicit 
confidence told me that once when lunching with some 
river drivers under the shelving bank of an island in 
Penobscot River, a sheldrake passed directly over their 
heads and just skimmed the water as she struck, ani 
spilled off some four or five young which she was con- 
veying from the nest to the water. Although T have 
jiever personallj'- seen this done, I have no doubt that 
they take their young to the water in this way. 
On the contrary, the red-breasted merganser (M. scr- 
rator), as far as ni}"- observation goes, always nest on 
ledges. In many lakes in the northern part of Maine 
their nests can be found on low, ledgj^ islands every year. 
I have once found sixteen eggs in one nest. The nest is 
unually placed tinder some low, spreading bank. I have 
found their nests and those of herring gull, tern and 
sandpipers all on one small ledge. If their eggs are 
taken they will lay a second time, and I have good reason 
to believe even a third time. I have one mounted which 
is in the doAvn, which I took Aug. 26, 1888, at Cancom- 
gammock Lake. There were six in the brood to which 
this belonged, and I saw another brood of four only a 
few days oM. On speaking of this to a hunter of my 
acquaintance, and expressing surprise at birds being in 
the down so late, he said: "Oh! I can tell you all about 
that. I was hunting bear up there, and I robbed all the 
nests there twice to get the eggs to eat, and the broods 
you saw were a third brood from eggs laid after I left.'" 
As the ice begins to form there the last of September, it 
seems hardly possible that these birds could get so as to 
fly before it froze. 
There is a story of one of our guides eating seventeen 
sheldrake's eggs at one meal and then remarking, "that 
he never liked sheldrake's eggs, as they tasted fishy." 
I have eaten them, and never could detect any fishy taste; 
but perhaps I did not eat enough to get the true flavor. 
While the males of these two sheldrakes differ widely, 
the females resemble each other so much that one must 
have the bird in their hand and then look very closely to 
tell them apart. I have never known the males of either 
kind to be found near the nests. M. Hardy. 
A Trip to Beaver Land* 
In reading a recent issue of Forest and Stream I 
was surprised to learn that a beaver had recently been 
captured in New York State. It then occurred to me 
that the description of a trip to the present home of the 
beaver might be of interest to your many readers. We 
were a merry party as we started from Winnipeg, Mani- 
toba, one bright morning in early summer; and an undig- 
nified crowd, in spite of our high-sounding title of "Nat- 
ural History Picnic Club." Taking the train north to Sel- 
kirk, we there went on board Lake Winnipeg's finest 
steamer, the Lady of the Lake. After a two days' voyage 
full of soft, balmy air and varied and picturesque scenery, 
we reached Norway House, at the northern end of the 
lake. This was to be the headquarters of our season's 
operations. 
Norway House is one of the oldest of the old Hudson 
Bay Company's posts, and was for many years the great 
distributing point for the whole Northwest. It has lost 
much of its ancient glor}^, but is still an important trading 
post. " 
We were most kindly received by the chief factor, who 
offered to give us any assistance in his power, and soon 
provided us with a reliable Indian guide. During the 
day we wandered about, and were much interested by the 
shrewd observations of an old trapper who was engaged 
in making caviar. This delicious article is made from 
the spawn of the sturgeon ■ that are caught about this 
tiine. There are two varieties, but the black spawn is 
much the more valuable of the two. By some process, 
known only to the chosen few, this substance is treated 
with German salt and packed in barrels. It is finally 
packed in small boxes and sold on the market at enor- 
mous prices. 
Early on the following morning we were up, and oft 
down the Nelson in our stout canoes. We had to portage 
in several places, but luckily we met with no accident. 
Darkness was just coming on when we reached Cross 
Lake Post, sixty miles from Norway House. That night 
we enjoyed the sleep that comes to those who travel all 
day by canoe or dog-train. 
Next day we were up with the sun, and after a hasty 
meal set out for a beaver colony, which the guide said 
was not far from here. We went back some distance 
from the usual course of travel. This northern country 
is completely covered with a network of lakes and rivers, 
and with a canoe it is possible to travel anywhere. 
At length we reached a little lake, on whose shores we 
landed. Quite near us was a small clearing, and toward 
this we now quietly advanced. The appearance of this 
open space would lead one to suppose that a gang of 
woodchoppers had recently been engaged here. Creep- 
ing quietly forward, we caught sight of the rising village. 
Some of the houses were finished, while others were 
nearly so. As no dam was required, this colony appar- 
ently took life easy. A few were leisurely building with 
poplar sticks and mud, but the majority appeared to be 
taking a holiday. 
The houses are dome-shaped m structure, and must 
have served as models for the huts of the Eskimo fur- 
ther north. ^ , , , 
But most interesting of all were the beavers themselves, 
ranging in size from the lolb. kitten to the full-grown 
adult, which would probably weigh solbs. or more. 
This visit to a beaver village shattered, alas, some of 
my longest-cherished convictions. I had always been 
told that the beaver is never idle. Now, I am certain I 
saw a half-dozen at least who must have been shirking 
most shamefully. Worse still, not a single beaver used 
his tail as a troWe! in building ail the time T was there. 
I found it hard, indeed, to give up this last conviction. 
The tail of the beaver is about ifl long and is well 
adapted to its use, as. a rudder. The feet are well worth 
ndtice, the front ones being sm.all and flexible and the 
hind ones closely webbed. 
The incisors are important to the beaver, for it is with 
these that he cuts the material for his food, his hut and 
the dam, if there be one. 
His food in winter consist of the bark of the birch, 
poplar or willow, which he has stored up during the 
summer and autumn months. In summer he feasts on 
the young shoots and the juicy root-stalks of the many 
water plants that surround his home. 
Altogether he is a social and contented little animal, 
which has furnished the Hudson Bay Company with 
thousands of dollars, moralists with many valuable illus- 
trations, and Canada itself with a national emblem. 
W. E. Edmonds. 
Randonij Notes. 
"Wild Pigeon Flights Then and Now, 
Along about the years i860 to 1870 wild pigeons were 
numerous in eastern Indiana and western Ohio. They had 
a roost near the source of the Wabash River south of 
Fort Recovery, and they came to it by the thousands 
from the Northwest. Our farm seemed to be in the line 
of flight, and the coming and going of wild pigeons was 
as regular and eventful an incident as the coming of 
Christmas. Stray flocks settled in our own and neigh- 
boring fields, and I trapped a few where scattered corn 
had been left in the field. We frequently shot at them as 
they flew overhead, but we had nothing better than an 
old smooth-bore gun that would not shoot beyond the tree 
tops, and the flight was out of reach. I believe I killed 
only one with a gun, until I began shooting a rifle. Then 
I frequently shot their heads off while they were among 
the branches of pin oak trees feeding. Men who visited 
the roost reported that pigeons were so numerous their 
combined weight broke many branches from the trees. 
After night hunters thrashed them off the lower branches 
with long poles, and carried them home by the sack full. 
I can't recall the time nor place at which I killed my last 
pigeon. I never considered them a desirable article for 
food; not much better than a yellow-hammer. 
Last August as I was driving north out of town, a flock 
of about forty birds flew over, going northeast. They 
were about the right height, and their shape, size, move- 
ment, speed and line formation all tallied with the wild 
pigeon of my boyhood days. I watched them until the 
line faded away in the distant blue of the horizon's rim, 
trying to convince myself that they were turtle doves, but 
all the evidence tended to show that they were wild 
pigeons. Did any other reader of Forest .and Stream 
see them? 
The Dove. 
What sportsman has the hardness of heart to kill a 
dove ? I never Icilled one, and if I did I would be ashamed 
to tell it. I was under the impression until recent years 
that doves were looked upon as being almost sacred, a bird 
blessed by Divine Providence, and I still thinlc that no 
true sportsman will be guilty of their destruction, and 
further that they should be protected by law at all times 
and in all places. 
QuaU^ Corn and 'Wheat. 
From childhood I have known that quail would pull 
up corn. Like the crow, they take hold of the young 
shoot when it is an inch or so above ground, pull it up by 
the root, so to speak, and then eat the grain that adheres 
to the roots. I frequently replanted where they had taken 
hill after hill. A few years ago I was in the country and 
had a Flobert rifle with me. I drove near a Bob White 
sitting on the fence near a shock of wheat. I violated 
the law for scientific reasons. When I examined his 
crop I found forty-one large plump grains of wheat and 
not a thing else. There were bugs in the stubble, no, 
doubt, but the quail preferred wheat. Nevertheless if I 
lived on a farm I would protect my quail. When I was 
a boy we captured game in any manner possible. I 
shot eleven quail at one shot with tlie smooth-bore men- 
tioned above. Later I killed four quail at .one shot with 
a muzzle-loading rifle. 
Speaking of Shots, 
In October, 1893, I shot a small deer in a slashing near 
the Michigamme River in Upper Peninsula, Michigan, 
knocking it down in its tracks. It was partly concealed 
by the weeds and briers, and lay there while I watched 
a large doe in her wild flight up a crooked ravine. When 
the doe was out of sight I started down to the one I had 
shot, and was within about sixty steps of it when it 
jumped up and started off at a lively clip, but wabbling 
in a way that showed it had been hit hard. I pulled up 
my rifle and cut loose at its shoulder, and it dropped as if 
shot through the brain. When I went up to it, it was- 
dead, but there was only one bullet mark on it, and 
that was a hole through both shoulders. 
In October, 1895, in the same slashing, I wa;lked up a 
tree trunk that had lodged until I came to a tree against 
which the leaning one rested some 20ft. from the ground. 
I stood there probably about thirty minutes with my back 
against the upright tree, when I heard a rustling among 
the leafy branches of a fallen sugar to my left. Presently 
a small deer crept out from among the branches and stood 
broadside not more than 40yds. distant. I carried that 
deer to camp. The point to this is that I walked logs 
looyds. or more, then the leaning tree to within an easy 
shot without noise. 
Last November, while sitting on a pme stump on the 
south point of a ridge about four miles west of the place 
mentioned above I was much interested in the movements 
of a hunter who seemed to be trying hard to locate 
something. He circled my perch, coming from the north- 
west, passing around south and disappearing northeast 
of m'e. He came within fifteen steps of me, but did not 
look toward the hill. A half-hour later as I was going 
north, he crossed my path going west with his eyes riveted 
to the ground, and a few moments later as I was trying to 
locate the whistle of a buck in the distance, the old 
gentleman came plump on to me from the wfrst. He was 
carrying a handsome Winchester shotgun, and explained 
that a couple of hours before he had put a charge of nine 
buckshot into the shoulder of a large buck at close range, 
but the buck got away and he could not trail him. He 
said lie lived on the Michigan Lower Peninsula, and was 
camped back on Fence River. He seemed very much 
worried over his misfortune, and I felt sorry, for I con- 
cluded it was one of those rare occasions when an old 
hunter lost an opportunity to score another big buck, and 
thus fittingly round out a successful hunter's career. 
G. W. Cunningham. 
That Alaskan Warm Lake, 
Washington, D. C, March 16. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: I note in your issue of March 18 an article from 
the Catholic Columbian, describing a warm water lake 
named Selawik in the vicinity of Dawson, the waters of 
which are said to rise and fall with the tides on the shores 
of Alaska, and stating that "the improvident gold seeker 
* * * has only to borrow a sled and a couple of dogs 
to go over to Selawik, where, in a couple of hours, he 
can kill with a boat hook more salmon than he can eat in 
a fortnight" 
I have spent two and a half years in the interior of 
Alaska, and have been nine times across the entire terri- 
tory from east to west, and while I am not in a position 
to absolutely deny the above statement, I must say that 
it is most improbable. If it were made by any other than 
one so well known in connection with missionary work in 
Alaska as Father Tosi, I should consider it as intended 
for a bit of humor to beguile the artless "chee-charco." 
I have visited Dawson on many occasions from the 
spring of 1897 when there were only two or three cabins 
to late in August when the camp had become a populous 
city, and spent an entire winter in the vicinity, making 
trips of from 25 to 40 miles east of the Yukon, and from 
25 to 130 miles to the west, and up to that time the exist- 
ence of such a lake was unknown to the miners. The 
Yukon River is certainly the lowest known spot in the 
vicinity of Dawson, and it is an even i.oooft, above sea 
level. 
Anyone who has tried fishing for salmon in the upper 
Yukon with the largest nets knows that it is not a profit- 
able industry, so it would seem rather difficult to believe 
that such marvelous catches could be made in Lake Sela- 
wik with a boat hook. 
The reverend father has doubtless credited the reports 
of some imaginative fortune seeker, or the alleged hot 
spring near Medicine Lake, southwest of Circle City, may 
have furnished the groundwork for the story. 
Edward F. Ball. 
U. S. Co.AST AXD Geodetic SuSvey. 
Observations, 
1. 
How these humans do reason about whether the other 
animals do reason or do not reason. Wonder if the other 
animals reason about whether these humans do reason or 
do not reason. 
II. 
Americans take the time for their pteastires from the 
hours of sleep instead of the hours of business. So "they 
make an added burden of what should be not only a 
pleasure, but also a recreation. ■ J. B. Davis. 
Michigan, 
Some Feattires of the Show. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Merely as a matter of information, will somebody con- 
nected with the Adirondack exhibits at the Sportsmen's 
Exposition please tell where the man dressed in yellow 
buckskin, with fringes, got his suit of clothes? Addi- 
tional particulars would be interesting, too. . Did the 
man ever see buckskin clothes previous to his coming 
to New York; and if he did, was it at a circus? Was the 
suit a rented one? What was the object of having him 
dressed up in that style? Was it a sort of jack-lantern to 
dazzle the innocent crowds, so that they would fall ready 
and easy victims? Or may be he didn't belong with that 
exhibit. 
x\lso, was that spotted fawn with a doe a type or indi- 
cation of anything in particular? There were several 
spotted fawns on exhibition — ^lank little creatures, very 
interesting to contemplate. Where did they come from? 
What gallant sportsman procured them? Did hounds, 
"with mellow voices and eager leapings," pursue them to 
"the death"? Were the fawns there as specimens of the 
game a sportsman might expect to get while fishing with 
a lo-gauge shotgun in July? 
Raymond S. Spears. 
New York. 
A Fortunate Fluke. 
An extraordinary shooting adventure, whiGh has the 
advantage of being easy of belief, is recorded by A. L. 
Butler, of the State Museum, Selangor, Malaya, in the 
last number of the Bombay Natural History Society's 
journal. One day in last July a Malay woodcutter went 
out into the jungle to cut fuel, talcing with him, on the 
off-chance of a shot at a deer, an old single-barreled 
muzzle-loading gun, loaded with the rather unscientific 
charge of a bullet and four buckshot. Moving quietly 
through the jungle, he suddenly came upon a tiger feed- 
ing on the carcass of a sambhur, and, with touching con- 
fidence in his weapon, fired at a distance of twenty paces. 
The tiger rolled over, and, when the Malay cautiously ap- 
proached, he found not one dead tiger, but two, the sec- 
ond having been hidden from the sportsman, though only 
a few feet distant from the animal he fired at Mr. But- 
ler, who made the post-mortem examination of the tigers, 
after they had been skinned, found that in each case a 
single buckshot -had gone to the heart; one had also 
an insignificant wound on the head from another pellet. 
"For a really appalling fluke," as Mr. Butler says, this 
achievement of tlie Malay woodcutter will be hard to 
beat. It is certainly not a performance any sane white 
man will try to parallel, much less to eclipse.— London 
Sketch. 
