FOREST AND STREAM. 
4g3 
Ihal. nigln. he 4p.pt with the rattlers, the wildcats ancj. 
the beats, and wrs not rlisturbed — neither was 1, 
Each day added to the Novice's laurels, every day 
brouglit its feathery reward, and all days brought about 
scenes and incidents that the door to memory will never 
close on. Sensations that had never been born came to 
light on that memorable trip in «S:both, atid'as I sit now 
alone and away from those rbcks'and tangles, I can hear 
and see the Doctor as he calls: "Elmer, burry bere; 
Jennie is pointing; be quick;" The Doctor and Jennie are 
in an old woods r-oad, .While 1 arn. breaking brush' at the. 
edge of a swamp— Jennie had followed a bird "out to tbe 
edge of the road, gone into the clearing and- come to a 
fuli point. The situation was such that I could do a flank 
movement where I was and give Doctor the experience 
and the shot. I called to him to cool off, step in, flush 
the bird and shoot. Instantly I heard a cracking of brush, 
a w^hirr, a whizz, a roar, a bang and a- flutter,. and then the 
Doctor calling: "Dead bird, Jenn ; fetch, fetch, Jenn; 
dead bird." The Doctor stepped into the road, I called 
my congratulations and proud Jenn presented -him Avith a 
■'wing-tipped'" grouse, handling it as gently as a hospital 
nurse ; imagine my new born sensation, 'however, as I 
heard the Doctor calling. "Shake it, Jenn; shake it; kill 
it, Jenn; kill it; shake it, Jennie; kill it Jennie." I hur- 
ried the guide to this scene of anxiety, while I rested my 
aching sides against an old log. Shortly after this I fell 
and wounded my kneecap — Doctor's idea of a "retriever" 
had weakened me. I have since asked him what part of 
that bird he would have preferred had Jennie obeyed his 
terrier demands. i 
In another j^ear he will be my Sporting Doctor. He 
was ever carefrrl, but enthusiastic, untiring and uncom- 
plaining (after his theory had exploded itself the first 
day). If birds were scarce, look elsewdiere — if he missed 
one, it was but too natural. Our bag was not heavy, but 
my fall was. I would never have known the bore of- his 
gun from "seeing the muzzle," and it only w'enf off when 
pointed at a bird, and my location known. He strained 
it perhaps at times. Ruffed grouse don't give one long 
to 5tudy time, space and distance, and the' Doctor liked 
the noise. They are racy birds, and are apt to convince 
both m.an and dog how mudh ati4 tlow little they both 
know all at once. 
The remembrance of this outing with the Novice still 
warms the blood, and allows the palate to rest on sweet 
things. - Thos.; Elmer. 
Elizabrth, N. J , Nov. 1. 
On Kansas Prairies. 
Lakg, Kan., Nov. 17. — This morning there came to my 
notice one of those little incidents that linger so long in,, 
the thoughts of those who love the outdoor life, and I 
have thought that others might like to share it with me. 
Perhaps I might first put over against it a ■.bit . of New. 
England life that came to me years ago. 
Having business that called me to one of the little towns 
on the B. & A. R. R. up among the Berkshire Hills, I 
took the early train and reached my destination before 
daybreak. As the station was deserted, I lay doAvn on a 
settee out on the platform. The morning was dark, warm 
and damp, with the coming of a summer rain, but as the 
day dawned the forms of the hills that surrounded the 
station, clothed in all the beauty of the New England 
forest, came into sight. Down from their, heights came 
the rriorning notes of the wild birds, at least apparently 
vieing with each other which should give thanks sweetest 
and best. Absorbed in all this, I lay still until a slight 
noise drew my attention up the track, and .there, but a 
few rods away, coming down grade, as silent and noise- 
less as a wild beast creeping on its prey, was one of those 
monsters of civilization— a locomotive. Of cojir.se, in a 
moment the air was full of its rush and roar, but as I 
write, tl')€ memory of the sweetness and music of that 
morning so suddenly broken into comes to me clear and 
strong, although miles and years — many in number — :lie 
between me and the day and the little statioii up among the 
everlasting hills of New England. . This for New Eng- 
land. '■. ,,, 
This seventeenth xnorning of. November here, in Kansas 
dawned bright and warm, and though . the quail . were 
whistling in the slough close by the house, and I -knew 
that among the grass and stubble the rabbits and prairie 
chickens were hiding, yet, dutifully, I went afield tQ a day 
of hard, distasteful labor. As the morning, wore on, a 
great bank of fog — something very unusual: for Kansas — 
came drifting up from the southw-ard well vip from the 
earth; then down from the north, as if to drive it back, 
loudly honking out their discontent, came a great flock 
of those forerunners of cold and sleet and gnow, the wild 
geese. Slightly blinded and bewildered by the fog, and 
realizing that they were too near the earth for safety, they 
swung to the east, and then, true to their wildfowl com- 
pass, resumed their southward course, and were swallowed 
up in the great bej'ond. 
Several times through the da3'^ the rabbits h^^ve scudded 
• away almost from under my feet; the plaintive cry of 
the quail scattered out by some one of their. many enemies, 
came floating across the fields; and just after sunset from 
more than one direction came their call as they sought 
their nightly resting place. Add to this the. swift, silent 
passing of a shadow that draws the eyes upward to see an 
object — always of deep interest to me — one of those keen, 
rratchless hunters, the prairie hawks, seeking its daily 
food ; and sometimes just at dusk from two to twenty 
great brown-backed grouse of the prairies swing by on 
their way from their feeding to their bedding grounds. 
All these things help to make up the fascination that 
hinds one like invisible but none the less powerful bonds 
tn these great boundless prairies. Each one also a re- 
minder of the glad to-morrovsf. when, free as the wild 
creatures themselves. I shall seek out their hiding place, 
and (though very seldom is that the case) I may return, 
far as fur or feather is concerned, as empty-handed as I 
went out, yet it is wnth an ever-increasing store of 
memories that are good to think upon, so long as mind 
and memory shall do their appointed wprk: 
Pine Tree. 
Tlie Forest and Stream is put- to press each week .on Tuesday. 
Correspondence intended for publication shorild reach us at the 
latest by Monday and as much earlier, as practicable. 
Boyhood Days in Florida. 
Ill,— My Winter Home. 
The" Lodge was a plain, low-roofed, one-story build- 
mg. By itself it had no special claim to beauty, but 
with its setting of rich green orange trees it made a 
pretty picture. Besides, it was to be my winter home, 
and imagination at that moment would have made, a 
palace out of the rudest log cabin. A few wooden blocks 
served for foundation, a most rickety one in windy, 
weather. No paint covered her sides, though a close 
inspection revealed traces of whitewash now almost 
obliterated. The windows we're small and low, while an 
open hall from which doors opened into the various 
rooms extended through the middle of the building. A 
covered porch adorned the front of the edifice, while in 
the rear a low platform with long benches on each 
side served as a wash room and woodshed. Such was the 
building which marked the end of my long journey. 
Here I was to live, and cook, and eat, and sleep. From 
this place among the fragrant orange trees I would start 
off on my huntitrg and fishing trips into the yet unex- 
plored paradise. Here at night I would bring the results 
of my day's shooting. Here I would spread out before 
the envious eyes of my new companions specimens of 
game that even my boyish fancy coUld not adequately 
picture. Within these rough walls I would write on 
rainy days to my friends at home, and, oh, what won- 
drous tales I would have to relate to them! No wohder' 
then that a feeling almost of awe crept over me as I'- 
gazed for the first time on that rough but cozy building 
The gate is open, and we drive inside. The picking 
has begun, and the Lodge is consequently occupied. 
Most of its tenants are just at this moment down at the 
packing house or up the ladders among- the thorny 
branches clipping oti the golden fruit or thrashing 
wildly at the swarms of gnats — the pest of Florida — 
that dance wildly about their heads. One of the boarders, 
though, remains at home. It is his day to' cook, and 
wash dishes, I afterward learn. As we drive up to the 
back* door he is out on the porch chopping — what? 
Kindlings? No, it can't be that. We drive nearer, and 
as I dismount from my seat he looks up from his work 
with a sickly, sheepish grin on his boyish face, and then 
he begins to apologize in a confused way, and we learn 
the cause of his embarrassment, for there by his side 
lies the still warm baking pan, and in his hand he still 
holds a batch of warm biscuit partly split asunder by- 
the blows of his hatchet. Gus breaks into a good-natured 
laugh; the hard-working cook grows red and tries to 
stnile, and I — well, I just stand with my mouth- wide 
open and my eyes sticking far out of my head. This 
was a phase of life that I had not associated with my 
new paradise. Birt Gus brings me back to a normal 
condition again by formally introducing the cook, and 
now that the ice has been well broken I begin to feel 
more at home. Wc enter the house, and for th-e first 
time I gaze upon the interior of my new home. 
There was certainly nothing portentous about the 
interior of the Lodge. The rooms which led directly 
off from the open hallway were square, with whitewashed 
walls, unadorned save by the carcasses of hundreds of 
mosquitoes that former occupants had inartistically 
nailed to the wall, with newspapers for hammers and 
blood for spikes. Three of these rooms were used for 
sleeping rooms, and the other for the kitchen, 'while the 
hallway served as a dining room.. 
As we investigated all the mysteries of that rough 
building, I began to get well acquainted with my new 
friend the cook. He was a fellow only a few years older 
than myself and had been turned loose in Florida under 
conditions so nearly like niy own that wc had at once 
a common bond of sympathy on which to base our 
friendship. From him I learned many points of interesjt 
about the life that was in store for me, and the class of 
men with whom I would be thrown. The "crew" con- 
sisted of fifteen or twenty men, mostly darkies, and of 
these the larger part lived in the neighborhood, so that 
at night our rather narrow quarters were slwred by 
onlj' half a dozen of the number. But they were all 
good, joll}' fellows. I was told, and such indeed did 
time prove them to be. 
Interesting as I found the Lodge, it is not strange 
that my thoughts were still for the most part concerned 
with the surroundings. The place where I was to live 
was of course full of significance; but after all what 
interested me most was the grove itself, and more es- 
pecially the wild streTches of hammock which bordered 
it on its lower side, and which stretched away for miles' 
CA^en to the banks of the St. Johns River. A thick, 
richly colored, luxuriant swamp— an ideal game country. 
I strolled down through the grove, past the yellow 
piles of lately picked fruit; past the packing house, 
where, through the open door, I caught a glimpse of the 
bustle :ind activity within, until at last the orange trees 
came to an end and before me lay the swamp through 
which our road had led us on our recent trip from the 
lake. To my eyes the place before me was a veritable 
fairyland, fujl of rich promise. In that wild tangle of 
-vines and underbrush there must lurk all kinds of game. 
The hug'e white-limbed cypress suggested squirrels, 
coons, possums, wildcats and perhaps even panthers, 
while the underbrush, I felt sure, concealed unnumbered 
rabbits and turkeys.. I had been assured that numbers 
of the panther family were still occasionally found in the 
neighborhood. There was a certain charm connected with 
the thought, but still I must admit that my mind pre- 
ferred to dwell on game more in keeping with my thir- 
teen years and 12- gauge shotgun. Even in the grove 
itself I found that ample opportunity would be afforded 
for testing my skill as a marksman. Flocks of sand' 
pigeons were continually rising before me and hurrying 
away with that peculiar whistling of wings ..which I 
came later to know so well. A flock of quail, too, had 
given me a glimpse of their fleeting forms, as they made 
for a neighboring grove. And even while I stood watch; 
ing the lights of the setting sun as they were beautifully 
reflected on the rich green of the orange trees and pal- 
mettos a rabbit stole cautiously out of the deep grass in 
search of his evening meal. Surprise followed by dis- 
gust at this new intruder must have seized him, for 
stamping angrily he beat a hasty retreat, I had been 
at ray new quarters only a little over an how, and already 
my heart beat fast and my enthusiasm was growing. 
By the next day I would be ready -to start on my cam- 
paign, and right here in the grove itself I saw evidences 
of plenty of sport for the present. Those poor fellows 
working all day in the packing house, or fighting gnats 
up in the tops of the orange trees, would now have all 
the fresh meat they could eat, and I promised myself 
that I should become a most necessary addition to the 
little colony at the Lodge. 
But the daylight was fast leaving; the packing . house 
was already deserted, arid, reluctantly I made niy way 
back to the dingy looking building, where noises were 
already arising suggestive of -the--evenifig meal. I-was 
introduced to my new compa'nibns, and which eyed the 
other more curiously it would be hard to say. I 
watched the cook as he busied about his preparations 
for the coming repast. I smiled as I saw the famous 
biscuits carefully located on tin plates on the rough table. 
Fried mush, ' biscuits and coffee composed our humble 
fare, and then the chairs were pushed back, the table 
placed at one side, and the darkies were allowed to take 
charge of the evening's festivities. Two rusty har- 
monicas were soon produced and began to squeak out a 
typical Southern plantation jig. Two of the best dancers 
jumped into the middle of the floor, where, inspired by 
the spasmodic notes of music, the clapping of hands and 
stamping of feet, they commenced a series of lively 
shuffles and wild leaps. The crowd applauded and 
stamped more vigorously. The contagion spread, until 
half a dozen ecstatic figures were shuffling, jumping and 
whirling around the circle. But at last physical en- 
durance no longer could stand the strain, the music 
ceased and the dancers, frofn sheer exhaustion, sank 
into their seats. It was a novel form of entertainrnent 
for me, and one which strongly appealed to me. As 
the days slipped by I came to feel that no day was com- 
plete without our after-supper "shufiie." 
But it was now late. The journey with all its novelty 
and excitement had just about exhausted me, and I was 
only too willing to . seek my room and bed. Even the 
combined attacks of mosquhoes and fleas— evidences 
of which were plainly visible the next morning — failed 
to disturb my rest that night, and when my companions 
roused me early the next morning I was ready for what-, 
ever the new life might have in store for me. 
A, E.' Stearns," 
Birds of the Ojai. 
The ornithology of Southern California,- especially in 
the case of small birds.,- such as hummers, and sometimes 
in that of larger birds, -frequently, exhibits purely Mex- 
ican types, which are more noticeable and more interest- 
ing for being seen where- they- can be compared with 
Northerners of the same class. Seeing the -'two races in 
this way brings out the peculiarities of each. The for- 
eigners are not only interesting in themselves, but by con- 
trast make the natives seem more interesting, and differ- 
ences of action, habits and appearance are plainly seen. 
The Ojai, which is pronounced "ohi" and means "nest," 
■ IS a mountain valley that runs'-inlarid' from Ventura and 
spreads fifteen miles from the coast .-like the boWl of a 
spoon, the broadened part being, at least "eig-ht inifes long 
and two miles wide. Mountains that are, oli, higtf, nearly 
surround the place. Live oaks like great green-' buttons 
stud the plain. Several timbered streams cross [it in- er- 
ratic lines. The -Indian chieftain Matiilija, a renowned 
hero and horse-thief of the Mission era, held the- valley 
against the Spaniards for years. A sturdy population of 
■fruit growers own it now.' The orchards are beautiful 
when seen from the hilltops. They are visited in fruit 
season by birds of every description. . ■ 
Our home is a suburban residence in a live-oak grove 
a mile from Nordhgff, the va-lley -postoffice, and the prem- 
ises arc equippecl, wit.h,num.erovs hydrants' that are fed by 
a large tank, seigeral spigots near the house having, be- 
neath them large- stone Indian mortars- as. basins, w)iich 
are very attractive to the' birds, a^fd .with' the fruit cause 
many to come every day from the dry creek:botfom. be- 
■ hind the place and from elsewhere. There cojuld not be 
■a better opportunity to study oriiitholog}^ ;and our knowl- 
: edge in that line has increased with strides^' 
We have spent many, pleasant hours this stimmer in 
watching the bathers that come to the pools -in -.shrieking 
■flocks, the numbers greatest on close mornings and hot 
■ afternoons, to drinis and- plunge and preen, and sing, all 
of them with a picnic spirit determined to have a pleas- 
ant"time. Filling the basins with fresh water-, by any of 
us is a signal for all feathered creatioa to assemble a few 
at a time or in large flights, some individuals- bold and 
Some shy, some quiet and some noisy, sdme.amiable and 
some pugnacious, but all of them very happy. A pool 
full, of ' small- birds surrounded with ripples and spray of 
their own making is a charming sight. - . 
The linnets, or house, finches {Carpodacus frontalis'), 
pretty crimson-headed birds that resemble the Eastern 
purple finches in appearance and the English sparrows 
in their preference for dooryards, come in great flocks to 
chirp and sing musically while a few of them at a time 
bathe fearlessly and perform astonishing feats, even to 
swimming back and forth over the deepest part of the 
basin — exploits that arouse enthusiasm in every sparrow's 
heart, and also within us. These birds are mentioned re- 
peatedly in the story of Romona; they make the yard of 
every California home seem cheerful. 
The Arkansas goldfinches {Astragalinus psaltria), the 
canaries spoken of in Romona, also come -in large num- 
bers, 'and with them the American goldfinches, or lettuce 
birds, a more beautiful variety. Sometimes a black-faced 
Lawrence goldfinch will appear with a, flock of other 
kinds. .A. black-backed Mexican that stayed around for 
several days was harassed by young birds of the Arkan- 
sas variety until he asserted himself and drove them off. 
His plight at first was sad, for he was very thirsty; but by 
a desperate plunge into a very hostile camp he obtained . 
a fe-vv sips of water. The next time I saw him he was' 
chasing the young birds. ' 
The black-headed song grosbeaks (Zamelodia melan- 
