1^4 
FOREST ANt) STREAM. 
VG. 12, 1 
After a little he spoke. 
"C'manch, less go up river fishin' t-morruh— will yeh?" 
"Aren't you a little premature with this fishing, my 
boy? Had we better not wait a few days and get ac- 
quainted with the folks a bit before we strike out on this 
new tack?" ' 
The boy rtibbed his chin reflectively and gazed at the 
ribbon of river where it came out of the north, then his 
eye ran the course of it down the valley past tbe little 
town, and on until the valley caiDe to the rim of the 
southern sky. 
"Yas, uh reckon thet's 'bout whut we'd ought to do, 
but I do want to juss chuck a minnie to thet ole Balaam 
ut I know is a waitin' 'n nunder th' ole maple stump down 
there b' th' islan'. I know they's one there juss 's well 's 
though I'd a seen him, cos ain't nobudy knows juss 
'zackly where tu drop uh hook there 'ceptin' you'n me, 
'n we ain't bin heyer 'tall sence early this season ; an' 
'ntither thing is^ O, Gee! I furgot 'botit these heads 
we got in th' wagon; guess we'll haft tu let th' fishin' go 
tull we git them took care of, that's a fack — never thought 
'bout them. G'up, Bill!" 
And so we moved on down the gentle slope of hillside 
and entered the town. 
Tired men, home-coming with dinner pail a-swing and 
coat across their other arm, looked at the travel-stained 
outfit and passed a pleasant "howdy" as we Avent by, 
some asking a few questions, others waiting for a later 
time to inquire about our success — you know, this is a 
village habit, and each wanderer must come back pre- 
pared to tell of his experiences in the far countries he has 
ATsited — yes, tell them in detail and over and over again, 
else the village folk w\\\ not be satisfied and the traveler is 
apt to be dubbed "stuck up" and adjudged to hold -himself 
as a superior being because of his traveling and sight- 
seeing. 
"Hullo! Ole man Hagey's place muss' a bin sold er 
somp'n — look ut th' new fence— 'n' new sidewalk, 'n' — 
Gee ! They's a new kitchen, too ! Guess his ^ folks 
wouldn't never go t' all th' 'xpense o' doin' thet," said 
the boy, as we drove by. 
"There's Curly Lee, 'n' Sap Williams, 'n' Ed. Cole, 'n] 
Walt Fiske, 'n' a whole gang o' fellers comin' down th' 
street; bet they're goin' swimmin'. Hullo, fellers!" 
"H'lo, Kid!" Git 'ny thing? Where veh bin all sum- 
mer? What Why " 
And in a minute more there were a dozen or more boys 
all about the wagon and all trying to talk at once. 
They clambered up on the wheels, shook hands, raised 
the canvas wagon cover, and chattered like a bunch o\ 
magpies for about ten minutes. 
By that time calm enough settled over the crowd to 
enable one to talk at once while the rest stood, arms 
akimbo, and listened or passed the comments such as all 
•boydora passes under the circumstances. 
W^ien we began to move ahead once more the boy had 
leai/ied that this crowd of young savages were in truth 
going "swimmin'," and he had promised to "be down 
town at Lewis's" after supper. I knew that a business 
meeting of a flock of geese could not produce anything to 
compare with the noise and gabble that would be the pro- 
gramme at "Lewis's" that evening, in consequence. 
This home-coming through a small town is a slow pro- 
ceeding, and lights had begun to twinkle in the windows 
when the boy pulled up at the barn and we were at our 
journey's end, tired, dusty and glad that we were at home 
once more. 
Then the welcome that was ours when "the folks" i^und 
that we had returned — the thousand questions to be asked 
and answered while we unhitched and put the team away. 
Then, while supper was being prepared, we must needs 
unload the outfit and carry everything up to the back 
porch, where it had to be re-sorted and such things as 
we decided could not be left outside had to be stowed 
away in odd corners about the house "till morning." Of 
course there were a dozen or more children from the 
neighborhood on hand to assist by asking queer ques- 
tions, and "helping" by getting in just the wrong place 
at just the right time to have someone tramp on their 
numerous bare toes, until their infantile yells rent the air 
and brought more than one nervous mother skurrying in 
to see "what on airth ailded Jimmie." 
But what is the use of lumbering up columns of good 
type with this plain description? Everybody knows just 
how these things always happen anyhow, for wanderers 
have wandered across the earth since time began, and 
some of them always come back to repeat the scene we 
enacted in the little town that evening. Always the chil- 
dren are on hand, and of course they get into some sort 
of trouble, and equally of course this always brings the 
iTiother, and many times the- father also, and then the wan- 
derer who wants a chance to get a bit of rest because of 
his physical fatigue must needs answer a rapid-fire lot of 
questions, most of them, of course, having no bearing on 
the subject at hand at all. 
The boy did not get down "to Lewis's" that night, for 
it was 10 o'clock before we got our chairs away from the 
supper table, and even then the dishes had to "wait till 
morning" for their tri-daily bath which is part of the 
domestic mystery called "housekeeping." 
When the last impromptu guest had looked at the clock 
for the tenth time and then suddenly discovered that it 
was "gettin' late," the boy and I again had a few moments 
of comparative quiet, which we used by storing every- 
thing snug for the night, and at last even he, too, clat- 
tered down the steps and on down the walk with his 
merry whistle, bound homeward. 
"Goo' night, C'manch — ^see yeh in th' mornin'," he_ called 
as he passed out into the street and let the gate slam 
shut with a clang of complaining hinges. 
The next morning he appeared very sleepy and -#bfi- 
begoite when he came around the corner of the house. 
"Bin sleepin' s' olng out o' doors 'at uh couldn't sleep 
'tall tull uh tuk uh blanket 'n' rolled up on th' grass," he 
explained. El Comancho. 
Grouse and Grouselings* 
Ithaca, N. Y.— I have never heard the ruffed grouse 
classed as an aquatic bird, but I was witness of an incident 
once that in a way is quite convincing, that in a case of 
sink or swim the bird chooses to swiin. My family and I 
were enjoying an outing one Memorial Day some two or 
three years ago, and our walk led us for some distance 
close beside the historical Buttermilk Creek. We were 
presently startled by a great bluster in the patches of 
bushes, grass and weeds just ahead of us. Then came a 
sharp rattle of wings, and a wildly disturbed mother 
grouse with a ricocheting flight swept across the stream 
and disappeared in the dense undergrowth on the oppo- 
site side. Hustling up a bit we beheld three or four 
downy, diminutive balls of electricity losing their identity 
tuider convenient leaves and snarls of grass. One plucky 
chick, however, with its trifling, .spike-like pinions beating 
the air spitefully, tumbled aggressively into the water, 
which at this point was running rather swift and deep, and 
swam as lightly as a tippet of thistledown to a tiny island 
clinched hard fast out in mid-stream. The brave little 
chap scratched ferociously to make a landing, a task it 
had scarcely accomplished ere the anxious parent, all un- 
mindful of unwelcome intruders, dashed to the rescue 
with a demonstrative but intensely reassuring gabble. 
With wings outstretched, eyes aflame, and every feather 
bristling in defensive array, this wild mother of the wood- 
land appeared to the party standing in mute astonishment 
within a few steps of her, a magnificent picture of heroic 
mother love and intrepid daring. For a moment, as if 
challenging us to approach nearer, mamma grouse main- 
tained this position, then with a thunderous flirt of wings 
and a peculiar low clucking call which vigilant baby grouse 
seemed to perfectly understand, she buried herself in a 
near-by thicket to be followed an instant later by her 
fuzzy but sinewy offspring. 
This reminds me that my first acquaintance with the 
noble ruffed grouse was made when, as a bare-legged 
schoolboy scarce six hajids high, as the horse trader might 
say, I succeeded, in company with a couple of other lads, 
in capturing a trio of birds just out of their nest. The 
soft, fluffy mites of life, even then thrilling with the un- 
conquerable wildness of their kind, were appetizing mor- 
sels of wonderment to the freckled, sun-browned urchins 
from the undignified schoolhouse, low arching on the hill- 
side above. So much so, indeed, that we patiently toiled 
up the long, green lane, blazing hot under the spring sun- 
shine, with our precious charges carefully ensconced 
within the hollow of hands held gently together, to the 
birch wielding astyaea of the aforesaid seat of learning. 
After a little space, in rebelhous imitation of the general 
who marched up the hill and then marched down again, 
three disappointed youngsters' set their faces toward the 
lower end of the green lane charged with the duty of 
safely returning their feathered captives to a shrewd 
mamma's care. . , , , 
When the last tiny, satin-garbed fledgeling had twinkled 
in the light for an instant as it made its plunge into the 
sprawling shrubbery, six .scarred and weary legs pegged 
manfully in the direction of Cobb's spelling book and a 
blonde divinity in gingham apparel, the owner of one pair 
of those legs in the meantime forming a respect and at- 
tachment for the grouse family that has continued to 
thrive and lead him ever joyfully afield for a long flight of 
M. Chill. 
years. 
We should say the average length of full-grown tigers 
would be 9ft. 2in. and tigresses about ift. less. If eight 
were shot the majority would certainly be under 9ft. y'm. 
and the sportsman would be fortunate to get more than 
gne of that length. — Asian. . . *z 
Something About Snakes. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In a communication to Forest and Stream, published 
in the issue of July 15, the writer, innocent of .offense, re- 
ferred to certain brook trout as "speckled beauties," not 
knowing that the term had been banned by certain senti- 
mental sportsmen. However, we offer no apologies to 
Coahoma. The expression may be gray with age— but 
even this might be an argument for its due veneration. 
"Speckled beauties" those trout were, neither more nor 
less. The term cannot be condemned as either illogical 
or improper. It conflicts with neither ethics nor morals, 
and further, is free from rhetorical error. If, meeting the 
requirements of the logician, the ethicist, the moralist 
and the rhetorician, who then may attack it? Merely the 
sentimentalist. And what is sentiment? Merely in- 
dividual taste. 
We observe what Mr. Cheney writes concerning the 
use of the mooted expression, and naturally must respect 
an official request. Personally we see no reason to dis- 
courage the use of the term — outside of the columns of 
Forest and Stream. 
But I am more interested in .snakes than in this discus- 
sion. Being more or less associated with zoological re- 
search and having made some special study of our native 
ophidians, I am frequently called upon to identify .species. 
A few days ago a gentleman residing at Smith's Ferry 
Avho during the past twenty-five years has caught many 
rattlesnakes on the ledges of Mt. Tom, and who is fairly 
well posted concerning the habits of the common snakes 
of this vicinity, sent word that he had captured a snake 
entirely new to him— one that while not particularly 
vicious, nevertheless showed some fight when captured 
(it was taken alive with regular snake tongs), and that it 
elevated its head and expanded a "hood," very similar to 
that shown in pictures of the cobra of India, and at the 
same time made a loud, hissing noise. The description 
was qttite sufficient to identify it, nevertheless I drove up 
to the Ferry the following afternoon to see the snake, 
thinking it somewhat strange that the snake suggested by 
the description given should be unknown about Smith's 
Ferry. A glance through the netting which covered the 
box in which the snake was housed settled its identity, and 
as the question "Do you know it?" was answered with 
"I guess .so," the door of the box was opened, a hand was 
passed inside, and in no wise intimidated by the "hissing" 
and "spreading," a full-grown puff-adder (Heterodon 
platyrhinus) was brought out for closer inspection. As 
the box was opened one of the boys standing near made a 
rush for the tongs which were close at hand, but he 
soon saw that they were not needed in handling this 
specimen* 
. Of all our native serpents the puff-adder — otherwise 
known as "flat-head," "hog-nose," "deaf-adder," "spread- 
ing adder" and "blowing viper" — is one of the most in- 
teresting. Not only are his markings pleasing to the eye, 
but his facial expression is more attractive than that of 
most snakes. Moreover, he is an excellent actor, rais- 
ing, when disturbed, his head, flattening his neck, ex- 
panding his body, and blowing and drawing his breath 
through the nostrils with a shrill hiss. He will jump, too, 
as though to grab the intruder, but close observation 
shows that this "jumping" is merely for the purpose of 
intimidation and not for striking, as the head is seldom 
thrown near the intruder and the mouth remains closed. 
Once in a while an old puff-adder will open his mouth 
very wide, and swinging his head about, succeed in 
fastening his small teeth in cloth or flesh, but this is 
so rare and then done with such deliberation that one 
would almost be justified in saying that the puff-adder 
never bites. And if he does ? His small, 'fish-like teeth will 
hardly puncture the skin and need be feared no more 
than a mosquito's bite. After one of these fellows has 
been kept in captivity awhile and handled occasionally it 
becomes quite indifferent, and is often with difficulty made 
to "spread" and otherwise "show off." A little run in the 
grass of the lawn soon, however, recalls the advantages 
of a free life in the fields and brings a return of its 
natural means of defense. 
Don't kill the puff-adder when you meet him sunning 
in some sandy field or wooded patch. If you approach 
quite near him he will certainly make a great show and 
try, poor fellow, to scare you off. Unfortunately for this 
snake, his bravery in not running away and in the great 
attempt to intimidate the pedestrian is usually his own 
death warrant, for who, except a student of herpetology, 
is likely to permit such a bold— and hence, to the ma- 
jority of people, dangerous — snake to roam at large? 
Reader, if you are a snake-hater, vent your spite on every 
rattler, moccasin and copperhead in the country, but think 
twice before killing a puff-adder, or our beautiful green 
snake (Liopeltis vernaiis), or the little red-bellied snake 
{Storeria occipito maculata), or the little brown snake 
(Storeria dekayi) — in fact, before killing any non- 
venomous serpent. They have their uses, as those of 
us know who have seen the king snake and the black 
snake slay the rattlesnake and copperhead. The three 
little snakes mentioned above are not onlj'^ handsome, but 
may be handled with as much impunity as an angleworm, 
and to one familiar with them, certainly with more pleas- 
ure. J. HoBART Egbert, M.D., Ph.D. 
HoLYOKB, Mass, 
''The Robin as a Mock Bitd,*" 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
With all due deference to Mr. Townsend, I beg to sub- 
mit that he fails to throw any real light on the above sub- 
ject in his communciation in FoEEST AND Stream of 
the Sth inst. The fact that he never heard a robin clearly 
whistle "Bob White" or cry "Whip-poor-will" falls con- 
siderably short of being negative evidence %i the point 
in question, and his ingenious theories can h^dly be ex- 
pected to count for much against the positive statement 
of persons who have heard both. Mr. Krum can speak 
for himself about his "Bob White" robin, but so far as 
I am concerned, I beg to repeat what I first said — that 
my robin's cry of "Whip-poor-will" was "as distinct as 
the bird that bears that name could utter it" — and it was 
by no means "a fancied rather than a premeditated re- 
semblance," as Mr. Townsend is inclined to assume. 
Furthermore, it was not a part of the robin's well-known 
regular song, but in a sensible degree separate and p^art 
from it. K. 
Camp Percy, N. H., Aug. T. 
0^nie md 0m» 
The July number of the Game Laws in Brief and Woodcraft 
Magazine is now ready. See advertisement of it. 
The Sportsman. 
PniLAtiELPHiA. — Editor Forest and Stream: After read- 
ing the very excellent article by Ransacker, in Forest 
AND Stream of Aug. 5, I found that he dealt with many 
subjects over which I myself have pondered, but con- 
cerning which we radically differ. I desire to state dis- 
tinctly, however, that there is in this no assumption that 
he is wrong and I right, nor vice versa. I merely con- 
tribute my mite to the argument. 
Ransacker's communication may be divided under two 
heads, the first of which defines what constitutes sport 
and sportsmen, and the second goes to show that there 
are no sportsmen. 
Let us first consider the former, concerning which he 
lays down his premises as follows: "The word as defined 
by Webster is an abbreviation of the word disport, and 
its import definition, as generally interpreted, implies 
play, diversion, wantonne-ss, mockerj' and trifling. Web- 
ster's definition of sportsman is 'one who pursues the 
sports of the field; one who hunts, fishes and fowls.'" 
- In the foregoing there is an unfair bunching up of all 
the definitions of the word, some thirteen in all, many of 
which have a special meaning distinctly apart from mat- 
ters of sportsmanship. From the broad premises based 
on all the special, irrelevant definitions of the term, he 
bases his particular conclusions. The^premises thus hav- 
ing much false and irrelevant matter, 'the conclusions are 
erroneous. Granting that Ransacker's contention is 
based on sound premises, then on the same line of reason- 
ing nearly every word in the language is wrong. 
Everj^ profession, indtistt}^ and class interest abounds 
with terms which have a technical, restricted, appropriate 
meaning. It matters not in the least from what word or 
group of Avords the technical term or terms were de- 
rived — the special meaning of such terms in their special 
connections and applications is the only one to be ac- 
cepted. Thus, if a sportsman were speaking of his dog 
backing, it would not be understood in the same sense as 
if a horseman were speaking of his horse backing, yet 
