64 
FOIREST AND STI^l^AM. 
tj'UI.Y 22, l8^. 
Hunt; Hunt, Anyway. 
Few afe the pleasures in this world that are tnofe allur- 
ing, more fascinating and more exhilarating than the 
wholesome pleasure enjoyed by the sportsman who takes 
to the woods for "all there is in it." By that I do not 
mean the one who goes in, rough shod, bent wholly upon 
wanton slaughter and a big "bag," but I mean the sports- 
.man who goes for the lasting, the substantial, benefit de- 
rived from an Outing in the woods, by one bent on 
reci'eation. 
One can scarcely call it recreation to go into the brush 
and from early morning till sundown plod hither and yon- 
der, reckoning on naught but o'ertaking his game. At the 
close of a day's outing of that description, the hunter finds 
himself jaded and weary; his clothes are sticky with per- 
spiration, and the evening air is apt to chill him so that 
when he wakes next morning he finds he has contracted a 
cold which might prove serious. All he has is a bag 
of game, perhaps a meager one, at that. And if he has 
no game at all — oh, my! He can tell you nothing about 
that hunt save that he was deucedly tired when he reached 
camp. He, perhaps, has enjoyed the diversion from the 
business cares, but he is not refreshed. His day was 
fraught with violent exertion and many briar wounds. 
With the sportsman who seeks recreation and goes 
hunting for "all there is in it," it is different. He re- 
turns to camp sorry that the day was so short; slightly 
fatigued though not jaded, but just tired enovtgh to enjoy 
a smoke and a little chat by the camp-fire before retiring 
for a peaceful, refreshing sleep. Whether his quest of 
game proved futile or not, he can relate incidents of the 
day that will interest his listeners. He has been an ob- 
server of the many things of interest with which his way 
was strewn. He has been studying nature in nature's 
own open volumes, and has learned something new in re- 
gard to the habits or diet of some one or more of the 
natural occupants of the woods. He may even have 
corked up in a discharged shell some strange species oi 
worm or insect which arouses his curiosity. When he 
empties his game bag he may be more choice of some 
little plant, or flower, or rare specimen of bark, or of 
some peculiarly deformed berr}r, or bud, or some other- 
little rare work of nature that is concealed in one corner, 
than he is of all the game it contains. His hunger for a 
better acquaintance with nature is more ravenous than 
is his hunger for game dinners. He can always find 
food for that mental hunger thottgh the hunger for game 
may not be readih'^ appeased ; therefore, the sportsrftan 
who, hunting for "all there is in it," hunts the nature of 
the woods as well as the game of the woods, is sure. to be 
gratified in one way at least. 
Many abandon the idea of enjoying the benefits of a 
week or two in the woods as soon as it is thought of 
simply because they are behind in marksmanship, thereby 
losing good food for a tired over-worked brain; for the 
study of nature's open book is not irksome; on the con- 
trary, it discloses something new at every turn. 
Chas. H Smodell. 
Pioneer Days. — ^VIIL 
BY ROWLAND E. ROBINSON. 
When Ethan Allen was dispatched on his mission of 
"preaching politics" to the Canadians, Josiah was de- 
tailed as one of his guards, and so chanced to be with 
him in the unfortunate attempt to captui'e Montreal. 
Major Brown failing unaccountably to co-operate with 
Allen, the latter was forced to surrender, but Josiah 
managed to slip away and secrete himself in a dry ditch, 
from which he saw Allen attacked by a gigantic Indian, 
and Allen seizing a British officer by the shoulders 
swung him around as a shield between himself and his 
assailant until the latter was compelled to desist. 
At nightfall Josiah made his way to the south shore 
and searched for a boat. Turning a shoulder of the 
shore, he came upon two Indians engaged in baling 
a canoe; their guns leaned against a tree at a little dis- 
tance behind them. He got between them and their 
arms; and then, with his rifle cocked and aimed at tliem, 
demanded their surrender, to which there was nothing 
for them but to submit very sullenly. He placed the 
guns in the boat and set forth, making with all speed to 
a light on the other shore. The Indians ran yelling 
along the shore in quest of another boat to pursue 
him, but he had no further trouble from them; and 
making the passage safely, after dropping the captured 
guns in midstream, he continued his retreat until daylight, 
making frequent detours from the bank of the Richelieu, 
which was his guide, to avoid houses, forts and small de- 
tachments of troops which he now and then fell in 
with. 
At dawn he secreted himself in the woods, where he 
lay all day, suffering hunger, thirst and weariness, and 
frequent chance of discovery. 
At nightfall he ventured forth, and coming to a house 
made a reconnoisance through the window. There was 
no one in the room but a woman and a girl; the table 
was set for supper, with a brown loaf, a piece of pork 
and a bottle of whisky, en esprit; so, going to the door, 
he entered without ceremony, seized the eatables and 
the bottle and made off, while the frightened inmates 
shrunk into a corner, crossing themselves and calling 
on all the saints to protect them, and then uttering 
shrieks of alarm, which presently brought half a dozen 
jabbering habitants upon the scene and into speedy 
search for the bold BostOnais. Fortunately for him, they 
hunted in a pack, and kept up such a continual jabber 
that he easily eluded them. 
When at a safe distance he sat down and made a hearty 
meal, and then, refreshed by a draft of fiery liquor, he 
continued his perilous journey until daybreak, then lay 
by again till night. 
Once, as he lay at dusk in a gram field, one of a 
searching party actually stumbled over him, but before 
he could make an outcry Josiah was upon him, gagged 
and bound him, and wormed his way out of the field with- 
out discovery. Another time when he was reconnoiter- 
ing a house in hope of getting food, he succeeded in 
getting the capote of the owner, which afforded him so 
good disguise that he joined a searching party on his 
own pursuit, and got well on his way during the day. 
"The holy Bostonais is more cunning than a fox," said 
one of his pursuers whom he came face to face with. 
Josiah's bad French betrayed him, and as the habitant 
hissed out a long-drawn "ah!" and opened his mouth to 
give the alarm, Josiah's gun barrel crashed down upon 
his skull. Safety demanded that he should be given his 
quietus, but the Yankee's heart was too tender yet for 
such outright murder, and he contented himself with 
taking his tobacco, pipe and steel, which he was greatly 
in need of, and then, gagging his adversary, left him to 
recover his wits at leisure. 
At last he came to where the Richelieu draws the 
waters of Champlain to its channel, and here he began 
searching for a craft of some sort. He found a pirogue 
drawn up on the shore, and was groping in and about 
it for a paddle, preparatory to launching it, and already 
was exulting in an easy escape by the open way of the 
lake, when his blood was turned to ice by a voice de- 
manding in English: 
"Stand and surrender!" 
He turned about and was confronted by a dozen armed 
men, who seemed to have arisen from the earth, so silently 
and suddenly had they appeared. He threw down his 
gun in vexation and despair at being taken just when 
deliverance was within his reach. 
His captors now gathered about him, and he ex- 
perienced as great a revulsion of emotions when he 
discovered in the dim light that they wore the green 
uniform of Warner's Rangers. 
Explanations followed, and he was filled with disgust 
when he learned from the scouting party that St. Johns 
had surrendered, and that, for all these anxious days and 
nights he had been dodging detachments of Americans 
and posts that were already in their hands. 
Having thus rejoined his- regiment, he served with it 
until the expiration of the term of enlistment, when he 
returned to the new commonwealth of Vermont. 
Old Nag's Head. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I am glad to see reference to Nag's Head in your last 
issue. Once it was a famous resort, two generations back. 
Its natural attractions combine all that Cape May, At- 
lantic City and Long Branch afford, besides wild fowl 
shooting and fishing there and in the vicinity, such as 
your unsophisticated readers never dreamed of, while two 
miles or so across the Sound, at Roanoke Island, is one of 
the most unique historical spots along the Atlantic coast — 
full of novelties and natural freaks, besides comprising 
the site of Sir Walter Raleigh's lost colony of 1587, Gen. 
Burnside's headquarters in 1862, old Confederate breast- 
works, mammoth grape vines covering acres, shifting sand 
domes which have already buried acres of pine forest 
60ft. deep, negro self-governing communities, Disciple 
churches, tropical verdure, old windmills, hard shell 
clams, and other articles of virtu. And the .air is as 
cool there all summer long as it is at Long Branch or 
Martha's Vineyard, without being humid or foggy, while 
it is only a holiday jaunt to reach there at a minimum cost 
of traveling expenses. 
I wrote up this region, partially for the Forest and 
Stream's issue of Jan. 14, 1892, and could add an in- 
teresting supplementary chapter on the Kingdom of 
Manteo, if worth while, which would set cloyed summer 
fiojomners on the qui vive. There is no coast region like 
Nag's Head, while all along the outer beach there is a 
cordon of life saving stations, lighthouses and banker 
settlements of a salty and quite primitive character, where 
wild beach ponies range in herds on the intervening salt 
marshes and dig in the sand for water to quench their 
thirst. In August the animals are rounded up, assorted 
and put on the market, while the colts are branded and 
turned out to grass again and to the mercies of the 
winter storms. Many of them are used by the beach 
patrols. Charles Hallock. 
Critique of a New Reader. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
During dull spells of business this spring and summer 
for pastime I have been reading Forest and Stream. 
I read it all, advertisements first, generally, as I want to 
see what people have for sale. Then I read the contrib- 
uted articles. I find them all interesting, especially the 
reminiscences of the older people. The majority of your 
contributors seem to be men of matured minds, with suf- 
ficient literary ability to portray past and present ex- 
periences in glowing words that make unbidden tears 
flow from our eyes and a great big choking lump come 
up in our throats, as we think of youthful pleasures in 
forests filled with furred and feathered creatures, and 
streams well stocked with finny tribes. They all tell of 
the happy experiences and incidents of earl}^ days, boy- 
ish pranks and pleasures, or fishing and hunting excur- 
sions. It seems that as we grow older we all become ret- 
rospective, living in the past as far as our happiness is 
concerned. Nothing seems so joyous as boyish delights, 
wlien we were free from care; no food tastes as good to 
us as that in the old home, when, after roaming the 
woods or following the streams, we came home with 
ravenous appetites, " 'most starved to death." • 
So .many regard the fisherman as a lazy lout, the 
hunter as only a buther, whose feeUngs are hardened by 
slaughter of the game he pursues. But I don't see that it 
has that effect on your contributors. Finer feelings I 
have never seen portrayed, more affecting pathos ex- 
hibited, more genuine love shown for the old home and 
the old folks there, than by writers in Forest and 
Stream as they relate their boyish experiences and ma- 
turer adventures when away from the everlasting grind 
of modern business. The nearer we get to nature, the 
better we are. Shooting game and catching fish to sup- 
ply our wants should not have any more hardening ef- 
fects than does the raising of sheep, cattle, hogs and poul- 
try on men who are engaged in doing so. 
I have been a fisherman ever since, as a ten-year-old 
youngster, with a peeled elm sapling for a rod. a tow- 
string for a line, a bent wire for a hook, and a white 
grub for a bait, I made my first cast into the creek that 
ran through our Ohio farm. There was a jerk on my 
line; thought I had hooked a whale; landed a big white 
perch over my head into the meadow beyowd; was so 
scared that I started for home, and never stopped until I I 
dragged pole, line and fish into the house, for fear the ■ 
whole outfit would get away. In maturer years I have 
fished the upper Mississippi River for black and white , 
bass, jack salmon, pickerel and channel cats; Lake Ron- : 
chartrain for crabs; Mobile Bay and Aransas Pass for 
sharks when the tide was going out, many years ago. 
Now I won't die happy until I go South again and .' 
catch a tarpon. ' 
In a woods abounding with foxes, squirrels, coons, 
possums, ground hogs, blacksnakes, quail, pheasants, , 
wild pigeons, owls and smaller birds, were made my first I 
attempts at shooting with a long musket that had done ' 
duty in the Mexican war. It was so heavy that I had 
to rest across a rail in shooting at quails trailing through 
the corn field in autumn, or prop it in the forks of a sap- 
ling while aiming at wild pigeons in a dead tree. With 
supreme delight I brought home what game I could hit, 
while my big brother walloped me for wasting so much 
of his powder and shot. Senex. 
Some Curious Nesting Sites. 
In his search for birds' nests, the oologist often meets 
with disappointment; but the nests which he does find 
are frequently in such position, as to surroundings, and 
of such material in construction, as to cause the collector 
to wonder if his feathered friends are not possessed of 
superior intelligence. 
Among all breeding birds known to me, I find few as 
changeable jn their nesting habits as our own Lay's phcebe. 
This bird that "nests naturally on rocks," adapts itself to 
its surroundings, and builds its nest almost anywhere. 
In the foothill region of this locality, or along the 
eastern front range of the Rockies, there are numerous 
abandoned mineral and farming claims, on which there is 
usually a deserted cabin and "prospect hole" or well, rang- 
ing in depth from 10 to 30ft. The walls of these wells re- 
main in position for years without support, partly from the 
nature of the soil, but more from the fact that very little 
rain falls during the year. From the erosions that occur 
little pockets are formed in the sides of these holes and 
wells, and our phcebe finds suitable support in them for 
its nests. 
Down the mouth of these wells the birds may be seen 
in early spring carrying material for their nests ; grass 
with little pellets of dirt attached, old rags; anything 
handy is utilized, until sufficient has been collected to make 
a substantial nest; the whole is lined with sheep's wool, 
cotton or cattle hair, and on this soft bed four or .five pure 
white eggs are laid, sometimes three and even two ; rarely 
six eggs form a set complement. But while the well is 
occupied the cabin is not forgotten, and another pair of 
phosbes may be building a home for their prospective 
young in some little nook of the building. 
Frequently a suitable place for the nest is found under 
a bridge, or a culvert is chosen; and I have found them 
nesting in a crevice of a limestone ledge, or an arroya. 
In May, i8g6, a pair of phcebes built a nest in an out- 
house on one of these abandoned farms near here, in 
which four eggs were laid, but for the lack of sufficient 
support the nest fell from its position, and the eggs were 
consequently ruined. 
The birds came to my home and built their nest on a 
projection under the eaves of the house, and here raised 
their young in security. The following year, 1897, they 
returned to the old buildings, constructing their nest,_ of 
the usual materials, on a shelf inside the cabin, entering 
through a broken window pane; depositing two eggs as 
a full set. These were taken, but were immediately fol- 
lowed by a set of five, placed in the sam.e nest. 
Last year they returned and built a very bulky structure, 
composed largely of bright colored rags with an empty 
bottle as a foundation, and on the same shelf on which 
the previous one had been built. 
This year a pair of phcebes, possibly of the same 
family, are rearing a brood of five young in another room 
of the cabin. 
The picture in the Osprey of a year ago, of the Euro- 
pean robin's nest, built in an old tea kettle, brings to mind 
a peculiar nesting site of the Western lark sparrow. In 
1889 I flushed a female of this sparrow from her nest, 
built in a fruit can which had been thrown out upon the 
hillside. The nest completely filled the can, which was 
lying on its side, and contained a fine set of five fresh 
eggs. This bird often builds its nest, for protection it 
woitld seem, in the midst of the thorny cactus bushes so 
common to Colorado. 
A nest of the red-shafted flicker was found between 
the walls of a building in the year previous. The parent 
bird had chiseled an entrance through the outside wall, 
and descending to a depth of 3ft., had laid her eggs, seyen 
in number, on a brace between the studding. No nesting 
material was used. The eggs, well advanced in incuba- 
tion, lay scattered over the rough timber, in such manner 
that the bird could have covered but two of them at a 
time without drawing them together. 
A king bird near here found an odd position for a 
nest on the top of a fence post. The center of the post 
had rotted away, leaving a cavity barely sufficient for the 
materials necessary to construct a warm nest. Four eggs 
were taken from the nest, and the parent birds immediate- 
ly began the construction of a new nest in an oak near 
by, in which they brought to maturity three young, one 
bird having died. 
The spring of 1899 brought the same birds, presum- 
ably, back to the fence post in which the customary set of 
four has been laid. I once knew this bird to build its 
nest on the dead branch of an apple tree, the bleached 
material of which the nest was constructed blending so 
nicely with the moss-covered bark that the nest was 
seen with difficulty. Another case of protective color itr 
bird architecture. 
Brewer's blackbird often has freaks in its choice ol 
nesting sites, usually building^ on the ground or in a 
bush, and occasionally \Vell up in large trees. Two years 
ago I found a nest in a fence corner, concealed from 
view by posts and poles, and not 50yds. from their nest 
