B^2 - ^ FOREST AND STREAM. - [Dec. 30, 1^99. 
mals, which furnished the Indian his support, cannot be 
realized in these days. Only those who many years ago 
have traveled for weeks at a time over the plains black 
with buffalo can comprehend how rich were the re- 
sources of these primitive people. Without such abun- 
dant food supply to draw on, the Indian could not have 
existed. He was a man of the stone age, and the simple 
armament with which he was provided could not alone 
have supplied him with food. Even when supplemented 
by the devices here described and pictured, he starved if 
the buffalo moved away from the neighborhood of his 
traps. 
• \ 
Our double page illustration supplement to-day is de- 
voted to a picturing of the old-time method of "Calling 
the Buf?alo." The several ways of the lure, the drive and 
the fall are shown with fidelity to the Indian mode; and 
Mr, Dcming has admirably caught the spirit of the chase 
as it was practiced on the Western plains. 
WILLIAM SENIOR. 
Since the death of his eminent predecessor, Francis 
Francis, Esq., some fifteen j^ears ago, no member of the 
British angling guild has been so highly regarded as Mr. 
William Senior, the angling editor of London Field: for 
he is not only venerable (age sixty), but he is as genial 
as he is talented. All that he writes, or ever has written, 
over the familiar signature of Red Spinner, either as 
contributor or author of many charming books, is so 
juiceful of bonhomie that he seems personally to take 
his reader by the hand and say "Come with me." He is a 
living vade mecum. Behold him, as he lopes over the 
heather to his favorite salmon pool, with his jack-statf 
a-cockbill, and his blue peter streaming out straight with 
the. accelerated gait ! That's Red Spinner every time ; and 
as he strides, the atmosphere glows like a halo. He toils 
not, but see how he spins. 
In the year 1898-9 he was the honored president of the 
Fly-Fishers' Club of London, and was present at their 
annual dinner in February last, when grace was said be- 
fore meat, and all took coffee for dessert, and nothing 
stronger. Sir Samuel Montague was chairman then, and 
Mr. Senior and the Hon. R. B. Marston, of the London 
Fishing Gazette, were vice-chairmen. Mr. Marston had 
been president of the club the previous year. Later on, in 
October, the same club gave him a notable dinner at the 
Trocadero, and apotheosized him as the second Walton, 
crowning his statuesque bust with ivy green and laurel 
from the precincts of the "compleat" angler's ancient fish- 
ing box at Dee side. The occasion was in memory of 
his retirement from the ranks of daily journalism, after 
forty years of service on the London press. Several 
eminent artists assisted, and all his friends and colleagues 
were present. Mermaids, tritons, fish baskets and quill 
pens rampant supported the pedestal of the bust. 
"I have taken this step," he writes, "with the view of 
easing off a little, and being able to devote the future to 
fishing and fishing literature. Of course, I keep up my 
connection with the Field, and shall next year have more 
opportunity to roam about with my rod than I have ever 
had in my life." ' 
We dare say the public will not be disappointed in the 
presage; and we trust that the gentleman's life may be 
spared even though the rod be spoiled, since he declares 
jn a note to the undersigned, who has been his compeer 
for so long a time, that he is carrying his added years 
lightly, and has not the least idea that he has passed his 
middle age yet. He adds : "It is only when I look into 
the family Bible [he does not say mirror] that I am 
conscious of the fact." And his physique does not refute 
his impression, for he look's hale and hearty; not like an 
Englishman, as it were, but rather like a combination of 
sturdy Scot Math the iollv good fellow. Long may he 
fish ! 
Hereafter those who love his books and his angling 
gossip may look to the "Passing Comments" column of 
London Field for their chowder ; which we doubt not will 
be as "filling" and palatable to their mentality as were 
the charming "Waterside Sketches." the "Mixed Bag." 
"Travel and Trout in the Antipodes," "Angling in Great 
Britain," "By Stream and Sea" and other volumes, which 
are now perhaps out of date and out of print, but by no 
means out of mind. ^harles Hatxock. 
We had occasion last week to comment upon the ex- 
traordinary decision of the California Supreme Court, 
that a non-export game law was unconstitutional because 
an invasion of private property. To-day we give a Min- 
nesota Supreme Court afSrmation of the right of an 
Indian tribe to hunt on the reservation in violation of the 
State law. This also is contrary to the precedents; and it 
is to be regretted that the Commission's attorney should 
not have moved for a new tesf of the question. 
The repott of the Onondaga Anglers' Association, of 
Syracuse, N. Y., is deserving of careful attention, be- 
cause it illustrates a mode of work undertaken by private 
citizens for the public good, which is well worthy of 
emulaibn, 
Sam's Boy. — ^V. 
One dewy morning Antoine made his appearance 
with a hoe upon his shoulder to work in the garden, ac- 
cording to a previous contract, and Sammy soon came 
to while away the morning hours with a friendly visit, 
sweetening the self-imposed duty with a lump of maple 
sugar moulded in an egg shell. Its hard rotundity re- 
sisted his attempts to get a full bite, and he had only suc- 
ceeded in gi^ooving it with the marks of his milk teeth. 
Antoine, noting it, asked, "Wal, you gat some hen 
lay dat kan o' aig, prob'ly?" 
"No; Aunt 'Rushy done it," the child answered. 
"She pooty good hen, a'n't it?" said Antoine, quickly. 
"Aour hens lays aigs wi' chickens in 'em. Does 
yourn?" 
"Sometam he do, sometam he don't," the Canadian 
answered. "On ma hoi' hen dis sprim come aout hees 
nes' wid ten leetly dawk. Wen dey come on de brook 
dey all of it jomp on de water, an' dat hoi' hen he was 
crazy for fraid dey all be draown." 
Sammy was not entirely credulous, and made a mental 
note that, he would tell Uncle Lisha that Antoine had 
hens that laid duck eggs, and ask his opinion of the 
storj'. 
"You lak de mepple sug' aig pooty good, a'n't it?" 
Antoine continued, after a little waiting for further 
WILLIAM SENIOR. 
questions. "Wal, sah, if you lak it you want for go long 
to me in Canada sometam. Oh, dar was hoi' great big 
montaigne dar, all mepple sugre. Yaas, sah; dat was de 
place for leetly boys, Ah tol' you." 
Sammy was inclined to think so too, and began to 
look with contempt upon his gnawed morsel. "As big 
as Hog's Back?" he asked. 
"Go.sh, yes; big as 'Tater Hill! Haow you 'spose he 
come so? Wal, sah, Ah'll goin' tol' you 'baout dat. 
You see, dar was great many, plenty mepple tree, prob'ly 
t'ousan', grow on one big montaigne — one dat dey call 
vulcauno, got fire inside of him, burn all de tam, all de 
tam, an' smoke lak forty coal pit. Den one tam in de 
spring dey comes some awfuls t'under an' li'thin's an'' 
he stroke all dem tree an' split it lak kindly hwoods, 
so de sap all run off in brook as big as Stonny Brook 
an' ran inside de montaigne, an' he bile, an' bile, so 
he bile over, an' it was mepple sirrup' run aout an' run 
daown all de side dat montaigne, an' when he got cool 
off it was mepple sugre. four, fave, prob'ly free foot 
t'ick, more as on' acre of it; an' all you gat for do was 
chawp it up wid axe an' carry him off. Ah'll goin' tak 
you dar sometam if you want it!" 
Sammy declared that nothing would please him more, 
and Antoine went on. "But you gat for look aout for 
bear. Dey come from all over for gat dat sugre. Ma 
gran'fader he keel more as fifty dar." This considera- 
tion made Sammy hesitate to accept the invitation, and 
in his agitation he pulled up a freshly sprouted bean. 
"Dar! see what you do, bad leetly boy!" cried An- 
toine. Bah gracien! 'f you do so bad laic dat bete an' 
grand cue gat you!" 
"What sort o' thing's that, Mr. Antoine?" Sammy 
asked, with a determination not to be frightened vsrithout ■ 
knowing why. 
"Oh, dat was kan o' t'ing dey gat in Canada dat ketch 
leetly boy if he a'n't be good!" 
"'How does he look?" Sammy asked, with increased 
curiosity. • ■. 
"Oh, he'll gat tails longer as everyt'ing, an' he win' 
it raoun' leetly boy's neck of it an' choke it so he can' 
breeze!"' Antoine's vague description of this Canadian 
invention for the better management of children was not 
satisfj'ing. . . 
"I guess I be good an' g-Q to the sugar mountain." 
"Yas. dat Avas de bes', an' de milk river, too, dat was 
pootv good for leetly booy." 
"What's that?" 
"Oh. you see, one tam gre't many year 'go, dar was 
hoi' whomans, hoi', hoi', an' lame so she can' mos' go. 
was travel long one naght, an' come on rich farmer 
haouse an' ask it it he can stay all naght, an' dey 
hugly, an' say 'No,' an' drove it off. Nex' he stop on 
poor man haouse, a'n't mos' gat 'nough for heat heself, 
an' dat man tol' it he can stay, an' give it bes' he gat. 
Nex' morny dat rich man caow, twonty of it, all, all dry 
aout, an a'n't give some more milk, never; an' dat poor 
man cow w'en de whomans go meet him, hees milk run 
so you never see, four stream, all so big lak Stonny 
Brook, all ron in one an' mak' river so big canoe could 
go on it, an' he run so forever. An' dat mans got big 
rich, an' rich farmer mans gat poor so he on de 
taowns. Dat hoi' whomans he was weetch, an' 
dat de way he pay it. Naow if you go dar an' want for 
heat some breads an' njilk, all you gat for do was jomp 
on boats wid your spoon an' loafs of bread an' jes' drop 
him on de river an' pick him up wid you' spoon as you 
go 'long. Dat was pooty comfortably, Ah'll tol' you. 
An' 'f you'll drudder had bread an' butters, all you gat 
for do was go to de falls, feefty foot high, dey was, an' 
roar lak some bulls, only kan sof'ly, an' dere you faound 
more butters as you can see in two week, 'ca'se de falls 
he churn hese'f all de tam, an' all de river beelow was 
buttermilks, an' all berlong of dat mans, an' he was 
happy, 'cause he a'n't never had for churn — dat was 
mean works for mans, Ah'll tol' you!" 
"Is that a true story, Mr. Antoine?" Sammy asked, 
his eyes growing rounder with wonder. 
"Yas, sah! Jes' as true as dat mepple sugre mon- 
taigne," Antoine declared, with unquestionable serious- 
ness. 
These tales made Sammy so hungry that he was 
obliged to run in at once for something wherewith to 
appease the yearnings of his stomach. When Aunt 
Jerusha had provided him with a great slice of bread 
and butter, he went into the shop to confer with his 
bosom friend, who, after a comprehensive glance over 
the rim of his spectacles, said: 
"Bub, he'd better seddaown t' eat that 'ere lund o' 
bread and butter, 'cause if he should drop it ont' hn 
toes, 'twould smash 'em." 
Sammy took the advice at first as seriously as the 
expi-ession of Uncle Lisha's face seemed to demand 
and complied with it. But when he had wiggled his 
toes in his .shoes, and considered their power of en- 
durance, his philosophical conclusion led to rather con- 
temptuous dissent. 
"Pooh! Guess it wouldn't hurt 'em. They're hardcr'n 
bread an' butter!" 
"But ju' look o' the size!" Uncle Lisha urged. "You 
coiddn't find you toes 'nunder it." 
Sammy wiggled his toes contemplatively, and regarded 
the rapidly diminishing slice and dismissed the subject. 
"Say, IJnc, Lisher; you s'pose Mr. Antoine talks 
true?" 
"What's he b'en tellin' on ye?' 
"Oh, he say o' the's rocks o' sugar an' a river o' milk 
in Canerdy, an' he's got a he hen 'at lays aigs Icelly 
ducks comes aout on!" 
"Shaw! Ann Twine's French, an' his tongue gits 
twisted tryin'^tu talk English. I spect it kinder gits 
away from him oncte in a while an' he do' know what' 
'tis sayin'." 
"Would your'n act so if you talked French, Unc 
Lisher?" 
"I da' say 'twould," the old man answered, with a 
twinkle in his eyes, 
"Unc' Lisher!" 
"Wal, sonny; what is 't?" the old man responded 
speaking out of one corner of his mouth while tin 
middle of it held a dozen shoe pegs ready for his ftngers. 
"How does a wild pigeon look?" 
"Oh, they're proper harnsome, wi' gre't long tails." 
They hain't them things Antoine says ketches little 
boys when they hain't good, be they?" Sammy asked 
in some alarm. 
"No, inded, they hain't. Ann Twine, he tells whop- 
pers, he does. What makes Bub ask 'baout pigeons?" 
" 'Cause you tol' me the'd be some on that posy trer 
over tu the woods, an' it's full o' some big birds naow 
They've got long tails, an' when they fly they clap theii 
wings ju' like the ol' rooster 'fore he crows. You said 
we'd go an' shoot 'em. Will ye?" 
"Good airth an' seas! Uncle Lisher couldn't no-ways 
this mornin'. He's got tu get these shoes tapped fm 
an ol' womern 'at neds 'em bad. If 't wa'n't nothin 
but a man, I'd let 'em go." 
"What be I goin' t' do? Daddy's gone away, an his 
gun's tew big!" 
"Wal, I guess the leetle boy'll hafter wait, ' said Uncle 
Lisha, whacking awav alternately at awl and pegs. 
Rowland E. Robinson, 
[to be continued next week.] 
That terrible individual the statistician is at it again, 
this time to show man's muscular inferiority to beasts 
and insects. The comparisons are these: A horse has 
four legs and can run a mile three times as fast as a man 
yet a man, in the long run, can wear down the quadru- 
ped. A good-sized lion will weigh about 450 pounds- 
three times the weight of a man — ^but a man cannot carry 
his own weight with ease. A lion, however, will easily 
carry off a bullock weighing over 1,200 pounds and break 
its neck v?ith a single blow of its paw. A grizzly bear 
weighing only 300 pounds has been seen to carry an 800- 
Jjound steer for over a mile up a rocky mountain side, and 
two Polar bears have been watched upsetting a rock 
weighing half a ton which was frozen tightly to the 
ground. Large apes exert incredible strength. It took 
eight men to hold an ourang less than 5 feet high which 
had escaped from his cage on a French stearner. With all 
his inventive genius man can move in a train at a speed 
of 60 miles an hour, yet a swallow can fly 80, the 
duck 100, the gray crow 108, and the swift 150 miles an 
hour. A man can jump just over 6 feet, or half what a 
red deer can do. The chamois and springbok can both 
attain greater heights, and the black jaguar will reach a 
branch 15 feet from the ground. Then we are reminded 
that if man could run as rapidly as a small hunting sni- 
der he could spring a quarter of a mile without trouble 
and run at the rate of twenty-four miles a minute! Hap- 
pily ''S'tinot:. 
