Bam 
logs to dry. I can only say that I frequently found the 
tops of shrubs and leaves of same lying about where 
the animals had left them after satisfying their stomachs 
on the other parts. It would be interesting to hear from 
others on this subject. Neither can I substantiate other 
writers who state that they live in colonies, but it must 
be remembered that my experience has been limited. 
Lewis and Clark's statement that they climb trees is 
probably an error. Although I noted many bushes about 
their abodes that had their smaller twigs cut, the cuttings 
were several weeks old. i always supposed that it was 
done during winter, when the snow was deep, and the 
animals were able to reach them in that way. Even if my 
theory is not correct, in this particular spot, it would be 
an easy thing for the sewellels to walk out on the bushes, 
as owing to the heavy snows and steepness of the moun- 
tains the shrubs had been weighted down so that they 
grew almost horizontal for 2 or 3 feet before turning up- 
ward, and in many cases the main branch grew down- 
ward, with the slope of the mountain. Thus it can easily 
be seen that these animals could easily climb out on the 
limbs and cut off the branches. 
While trapping at the west base of Mt. Jefferson, 
Oregon, I had a rather singular experience. The trap 
had been placed in the entrance of a burrow, and re- 
mained four nights. The first night a sewellel was caught 
by the toes of a front foot, but escaped, leaving two of 
them in the trap. The next three nights there were in the 
trap a toad, a thrush and a weasel. In this case also I 
noticed that during one of the nights the animals threw 
out dirt. The location of these burrows — there were three 
in all, all close to each other — ^was on a flat close to a 
stream. This was on dry soil which had lately been 
btirned over, and were of the character described above. 
Several naturalists have stated that these animals are 
extremely hard to trap. The first night I set the traps two 
were captured, and although they were left out several 
nights, none were caught. I know of another naturalist 
who caught several the first night he trapped for them. 
Coues and Allen, in their "Monographs of North 
American Rodentia," p. 596, quote Dr. J. G. Cooper as 
saying: "A young man who had kept school at Astoria 
told me that the children sometimes caught them about 
the schoolhouse, where they burrowed, and that they 
cought be caught by running after them, as they did not 
run fast. When taken they did not offer to bite, and ate 
vegetable food readily." 
I found them feeding on tender shoots, grasses and 
shrubs. J. Aldf.n Loring. 
Simultaneous Movements of Gre- 
garious Animals. 
TltE simultaneous feeding of fishes, and the sudden 
cessation without any apparent cause, has been a source 
of wonder to me as well as to many others, and seems 
one of the most unaccountable phenomena in nature. All 
fishermen know that suddenly, on certain waters, every 
fish will bite, and as suddenly cease, without any change 
of weather or fall of barometer. I think many other 
animals get this sudden impulse or inclination to feed 
at the same moment, and not only to feed, but to move 
in a similar manner. I have often thought over the 
fact, and tried to find a solution. The only one that I 
could at all consider probable is thought-reading or tel- 
epathy. What puts the thought into the mind of the 
first one it might be difficult to say; but if we suppose 
that some fish happen to be where a sudden rise of fly. 
takes place, that may start them into action, and so may 
aft'ect all the fish within reach of that influence. At one 
time I used to shoot a good deal in Honduras, where 
there are a good many deer (I think the Virginia deer), 
and when in pursuit of them I generally had as guide 
a man who shot a good deal on his own account, and 
who could always bring in a buck if asked to do so — one 
of those half-caste Spanish Indians, very clever at that 
sort of sport. When starting out he always calculated 
the state of the moon, and asserted that it was most 
important that she was at the right stage in the dsLy time, 
otherwise no deer would feed, all would be lying in the 
thick forest, and there would be no chance then of seeing 
them or getting a shot. Now, why the moon should 
influence deer for the day time seems very strange, and I 
can only account for it in this way, that the tidal waters 
left some feeding grounds exposed at certain times, and 
thus set some deer feeding, causing by telepathy other 
deer within range to do the same. How can we account 
for the simultaneous motion of birds in large flocks by 
any other hypothesis? 
Any one who has seen the millions of birds which 
throug the lakes on the Suez Canal must have been 
struck by the wonderful and beautiful evolutions of 
those cornpact flocks. Every change is instantaneous and 
simultaneous, and there is no possibility of one bird 
copying another, for that woirid entail loss of time. 
When the sunlight shines on them there in the distance 
the effect is very like that caused by the heliograph when 
signaling. Enormous flocks of white pelicans when at 
long distances are sometimes perfectly invisible arid 
next moment appear brilliantly white and glistening in 
the sunlight when a sudden change of motion brings ir 
to bear on the plumage as they perform their evolutions 
—I think one of the most beautiful sights imaginable. 
When one watches large shoals of fishes, and sees the 
sudden and simultaneous motion.?, it seems to me impos- 
sible to account for them in any other way than by the 
sniiie telepathy. 
Sir John Lubbock attributes fhe combined actions of 
ants to signaling by means of the antennae. Now, it 
would require a very elaborate and preconcerted code 
of signals to enable insects to communicate intelligibly 
with each other, and I think thought-reading a much 
more probable means of communication, and the ap- 
i.oarance of the antennae, ramarked by Sir J. Lubbock, 
would greatly facilitate this, and iraay account lor the 
habit. J 
Bees with one accord rise when they swarm, and i 
think may influence each other in a similar manner. 
When suitable food for wild pigeo ns becomes very 
plentiful, innumerable flocks of pigeons immediately re- 
sort to the locality. How do they knoiv of it? I do not 
think they have any power or wish -to bring all their 
friends to'partake of the feast, and so -destroy their sup- 
ply. I attribute to the same cause this habit. The same 
may be said of the feeding of all kinds of birds, such 
as snipe, woodcock, etc., that have had no opportunity 
of communicating with each other. Immediately a place 
becomes suited to their requirements it will be found 
tenanted by them. 
In a country frequented by vultures, when a beast dies 
it is well known that these birds flock from all quarters 
to the feast, some say by scent, others say by sight, 1 
say by telepathy. Jr'erhaps some observer ot these things 
who agrees or disagrees with me will favor us with his 
idea, and by comparing notes enable us to arrive at the 
true solution of the mystery .—Correspondence London 
Field. 
Voracity of Loons. 
QuEBECj June 23. — There have been so many screaming 
and trout-eating loons on Lac Clair that the question 
whether in their breeding time they could not be pursued 
and driven to locate on other waters has been a long 
time a subject of consideration. I was unable to attend 
to it this spring, but our guardian, Xavier, did better than 
I could have hoped, for he not only chased them, but 
actually shot and killed five. Opening one out of 
curiosity, he found in its stomach two trout of 10 or 11 
inches long, absolutely whole, with their skin hardly 
broken. One can imagine the havoc that would be made 
by a number of loons on a well-stocked trout lake. The 
late Col. Hodges, Fish Commissioner of New Hampshire, 
once told me that he thought 3 pounds of trout would only 
furnish a day's ration for one loon. 
Xavier, who is a man of thirty years' experience in the 
woods, tells me he has found many loon's nests, but never 
any more than one egg in them, but an equally good 
authority' says he had often seen two, and very rarely 
three. I myself have never seen a nest, but neither have 
I ever seen a loon with more than one young one by its 
side. It is a good thing for the trout that there are no 
more of them. It is well known that loons can neither 
walk nor stand on land ; they can only push themselves 
along with their webbed feet and crawl on their craw. 
The nests are made of patches of moss from the stones on 
the water's edge. G. de Montauban. 
Flying: Foxes of the South Pacific. 
At a recent meeting of the Biological Society of Wash- 
ington, Mr. C. H. I'ownsend, of the Fish Commission, 
spoke interestingly of the flying foxes of the South Pacific 
Islands. This term is used to designate the large fruit- 
eating bats, found in such abundance in some of the 
islands of the Pacific. The observations were made by 
Mr. Townsend during the voyage of the United States 
Fish Commission steamer Albatross, from which he re- 
turned only a few months ago, and the talk was illustrated 
by lantern slides and specimens. 
To the eastward of the Tonga and Samoan groups of 
islands no bats were found in Polynesia, although they 
were carefully looked for. On certain islands of the 
Tonga group, however, Mr. Townsend collected many 
of these bats, and they were also seen in the Fiji and 
Samoan islands, though none were taken. 
On the Island of I'ongatatu a large rookery of these 
animals was found, and here many photographs were 
taken, showing the bats hanging to the branches of the 
trees. This rooker)'- is situated in a small native village, 
the bats occupying the tops of a number of large trees in 
the very middle of the settlement. The rookery is care- 
fully protected by the people, and is said to have been thus 
guarded from time immemorial. The chief of the village 
permitted Mr. Townsend to take away only three speci- 
mens. What the motive for this protection may be is not 
explained, but it is certain that the bats do a great deal 
of damage to the fruits on which the islanders largely 
depend for subsistence. 
Urban Rattlesnakes. 
Oakmont, Pa., June 18.— Editor Forest mid Stream: 
When the Lucy Furnace was building, right in the city 
of Pittsburg, some twenty-five years since, an Irish 
laborer empfoved there was bitten by a rattlesnake. There 
could be no doubt about this case, as the snake was killed 
at once, and the manager of the furnace had its rattles 
for some years, and may have them yet. Yet the ex- 
planation of how such a snake got into a busy city, many 
miles from any district that such snakes inhabit, was per- 
f ectlv simple. There had been a very high flood in the 
Allegheny River, which flows alongside the furnace, a few 
days before. That snake had been carried off on sorne 
driftwood from the upper waters of the river, the drift 
had lodged on the furnace property, and thus the snake 
escaped to solid ground. 
Probably some such unnoticed fact will account for the 
rattlesnake in Palmer, Mass. 
The copperhead is by no means unknown around here. 
I have known of two persons being bitten by them, and 
one narrowly escaping, within a few years — in fact, one 
was killed in the fashionable East End of Pittsburg within 
a fortnight. W. Wadt;. 
The Last Adirondack Moose. 
West Winsted, Conn., June 20— 'Editor Forest and 
Stream: I have read with considi?rable interest the 
different accounts of the killing of the last moose in the 
Adirondacks. . 
The account you publish in your issuse of June_ 9 is the 
correct one. I was not present, but one of my guides was, 
and has often pointed out to me the tree on or near 
Constable Point on which they hung up the moose to 
dress it. I am a good deal amused at the idea that Sam 
Dunakin ever led a two-year-old moose from Fulton Cham 
to Utica. The moose might have led him, but he never 
did the moose. C. S. Foster. 
Hard Luck but Mitigated by the Next Best 
Thing. 
A Nebraska correspondent writes: 1 have to read 
Forest and Stream, for though I am in what used to be a 
great sportsman's country, owing to drought our lakes 
have all dried up, fish have perished "by the million-: and 
water fowl have migrated somewhere ^Ise ^ 
0dnfj0 ^uff mi 0un. 
A Day in Eastern Massachusetts. 
■ John had left word for me to meet him the next morn- 
ing on the top of Green Hill ready for a try at the quail 
and partridge. Birds were by no means plenty in out 
section, and it required an intimate knowledge of the 
covers and of the habits of the birds to insure even a 
small bag. It doesn't take long for a Massachusetts 
grouse to absorb a practical education sufficient to elude 
the army of amateurs which is ever in pursuit of him, 
and the successful sportsman must be a. hard worker, an 
intelligent hunter and a good shot. 
On waking in the morning my hopes were somewhat 
dashed to find some 4 inches of snow had fallen — soft, 
moist snow that clung to everything and weighed down 
the branches and slender saplings, often bending them 
nearly double, and the nearby thicket forming a barrier 
that sent the cold chills down one's back, even in antici- 
• pation. However, in half an hour I was on my way 
with my old black and white setter Crimp. Crimp is no 
stickler for conditions; hot or cold, wet or dry, makes 
no difference to him, so long as he sees the little Parker 
and the shooting togs. 
After following the road a couple of miles I struck 
across the fields, coming on John near the rendezvous 
with his young setter Don. The snow seemed not to 
affect John's courage in the least and he started in as if 
the conditions were made to order. Keeping about 50 
yards apart we worked down the east side of the hill until 
near the foot, where I struck into an old cart road going 
north and John worked along parallel. Soon I heard 
■'Look out!" from John, and at the same instant a 
partridge burst through a seemingly solid wall of snow 
and came directty toward my head. Before I could 
throw my gun into position the bird was over me and 
disappearing in another wall of snow. Swinging around 
I snapped at the place where he had disappeared and had 
the satisfaction of cutting the twigs at just the right place^ 
After looking some time m the viciinty I concluded i 
had missed and we continued through the snow without 
finding him. Swinging back on the lower edge of the 
brush I worked carefully along, expecting to find the, 
bird I had shot at, and when nearly opposite the place 
where he had disappeared Crimp suddenly drew to a 
stand, pointing directly at a large ground savin. Walk- 
ing up behind. Crimp refused to move and I went into 
the middle of the clump before the bird started. He was 
evidently badly wounded, for he seemed hardly able to 
get on the wing, and offered an easy mark when once out 
of the brush. Securing the bird, I rejoined John, and 
for the next hour we failed to find a feather. 
Coming to a meadow where John said he had found 
quail recently, we started through it, and sure enough 
John found their roosting place of the previous night. 
There was a small brook running through the meadow 
lined with alders, and working up this, one on each 
side. Crimp was soon pointing staunchly, seemingly into 
the brook. I kicked the birds out toward John, who 
killed with one barrel and missed with the other. I 
missed. Following in the direction taken by the birds, 
we came on a patch of weeds which showed tracks of 
quite a bunch of birds. Following the edge of a nearby 
thicket, we soon had a fine point from both dogs. The 
birds were very close and flushed almost immediately, 
John getting a double, while I missed again. Going after 
his birds, we found it difficult to find the dead birds in 
the snow — in fact, we had nearly given up one of them 
when Crimp commenced to dig in the snow where we had 
trodden it down, and getting hold of something witb. 
his teeth he soon had the quail by the wing. Returning 
to where the scattered birds were. Crimp soon came to 
a point in some thick laurel, and walking up I flushed and 
killed the bird. 
We next entered the larger growth, where some of the 
birds had gone. John made a good shot on a bird 
which flushed behind him, the best shot of the day. 
Crimp now got on a trail leading directly through very 
thick underbt'ush. He followed it faster than we could 
get through the snarl and we lost sight of him, but fol- 
lowed his tracks and finally came on him solid as a rock 
at lea.st 100 yards from where he struck the trail. He 
was pointing into an old treetop close by some thick 
scrub oak. The chances of a shot were poOr, especially 
since the bird had showed a decided tendency to wild- 
ness contrary to their itsual custom of hiding after being 
first flushed. However, we worked up to the treetop, 
resolved to shoot at the least chance. While yet some 
distance from the top the bird flushed, going into the 
scrub oak. I got a momentary glimpse of brown and 
snapped just as it was going out of sight. There was a 
feather or two floating in the air, and following in the 
direction taken by the bird I had the good luck to find 
him several rods from where I had shot at him. 
The sun had come out and thawed the snow so that 
it Avas rapidly falling from the brush, and the afternoon 
promised better conditions. After a cold bite we started 
again, striking into a nearby swamp, a splendid cover 
for partridge. On one side of the swamp several long, 
narrow strips of young growth of birch, etc., extended 
into the mowing fields, affording fine feeding places for 
partridges. 
Our method was for one man to thresh out these strips 
of brush, where it was next to impossible to get a shot 
and drive the birds across the open field, where the other 
man was posted. John got in a favorable position, while 
I went to the lower end and began working toward him. 
When half way to him Crimp commenced to trail a 
bird, and finally pointed. I worked up behind the dog, 
who refused to budge, and had taken one or two steps 
in front of him when the bird took wing with a mighty 
rush out by John, who waited till the bird was well out 
in the open and then gave it to him. The bird staggered 
and left a cloud of feathers in the air, and looked to drop 
before he got to cover, but managed to get into the edge 
of the brush. Expecting to pick up the bird, we went 
directly to where he had disappeared, when with a quick 
run the bird took wing and went away apparently as 
strong as ever, without giving us a shot. After looking 
to see that it wasn't another bird than the one shot at 
we •followed the direction taken, and worked the ground 
