146 
Cranes. 
Troy, N. Y., Aug. 14. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Can you state if the brown or sandhill crane (Grus 
canadensis) is the young of the white or whooping crane, 
(Grus americana) ? Some of the writers make this 
claim, but I have never heard any one in the West make 
such a statement, and it does not seem reasonable, as 
where I shoot in North Dakota there are 500 sandhill 
cranes where one white crane is to be seen. 
Very few white cranes are shot in the West, but I 
understand that there is no difficulty in getting them in 
Florida. There is a white crane that frequents the 
marshes near the Everglades that has a line-toothed 
comb on one of the toes and has beautiful white feathers. 
Can you give me the name for this bird? C. E. W. 
The brown crane (Grus canadensis) is not the young 
of the white or whooping crane (G. americana). The 
young of the last named bird is in general color white, 
more or less patched and overlaid with rusty. The head 
is completely feathered — has no bare patch on crown or 
cheeks. There are two species of brovfn crane (G. cana- 
densis and G. mexicana), which differ chiefly in size, the 
first being slightly the smaller of the two. In neither 
of these are the cheeks normafly naked, as they are in 
the white crane. The "white crane" of the Florida Ever- 
glades, referred to by our correspondent, is not a crane 
at all, but a heron (Ardea occidentalis) , a species equal- 
ing in size or larger than the great blue heron (A. 
herodias) , 
Great confusion exists in the popular mind as to 
what is a heron and what a crane. A very large majority 
of people no doubt believe the two terms synonymous 
and apply either to almost any large wading bird. As 
a matter of fact, howevei", the similarity between cranes 
and herons is wholly superficial. They are different in 
structure and in habits, and persons accustomed to see 
both birds are not likely to mistake one for the other. 
Setting aside the physical differences, which are those 
to' which the naturalist Avould first call attention, the 
many obvious differences in habit will readily be detected 
by any one whose attention is called to them. 
Those who have had an opportunity to see any of our 
cranes on the wing know that they fly with the neck 
stretched out at full length before them. As a rule they 
fly during the migration in large companies, and are very 
noisy, calling to one another at frequent intervals with 
loud resonant — if guttural — cries. Often they fly so high 
above the earth that while these cries may be heard, the 
birds which utter them are too far up in the sky to be 
seen by the human eye. Sometimes in such a ckse a 
long search of the sky may reveal a few black specks, seen 
for a moment, only to be lost again, ,which are the 
migrating cranes. 
In western North America cranes cannot in any sense 
be considered birds of the marsh. Although, of course, 
they often alight on sandbars in the rivers and along 
streams, yet they are, in fact, birds of the upland, of 
the high prairie, feeding, marching about and dancing — 
for they do dance — far from wet lands. 
The heron, on the other hand, will be seen to fly with 
the neck bent upon itself so that its head eeems to rest 
between its shoulders and to be supported from below by 
this bent neck. Herons are usually — but not always — 
solitary in their flight, and at all events never gather in 
great companies during the migration, as do cranes. 
They breed, however, in colonies, which the cranes do 
not. The greatest number of great blue herons that we 
have ever seen together was at daylight one April morn- 
ing, when twenty-eight — flying in a loose company — were 
seen to reach the Connecticut shore — apparently from 
the South — and alight there. Herons as a rule are silent 
birds, the night heron being perhaps the most noisy of 
our common species, and this only utters an occasional 
croak. They are distinctly birds of the marsh, delighting 
in wet places, from which they draw their food. In- 
deed, one of the physical characteristics of the 
herons is closely related to this life, passed in large 
measure where heavy grass, reeds and bulrushes grow 
close together. This is the extreme compressibility of 
the body in certain species by which the process of 
squeezing its way among the close-set stems is made 
easier, a character which reminds us not a little of the 
same adaptation in the rails. The cranes, on the other 
hand, usualty have stout, robust bodies. 
The herons are most closely related to the storks and 
ibises. There are about seventy-five species, scattered 
all over the world, and usually inhabiting tropical or 
temperate regions. Some of the forms are quite ex- 
traordinary. 
All herons, except the so-called hammerhead (Scopus) 
are provided with the curious powder down tracts — 
"greasy, yellow spaces covered with tufts of gray or 
black filaments, disintegrating into bluish or whitish 
powder." These tracts are found on the back, breast and 
belly in dift'erent species. They have been stated 
to be phosphorescent and to give out a liglrt which aids 
the bird in its nocturnal fishing !■ 
The plumage of the herons is loose in contrast with 
that of the cranes, which is decidedly compact. 
The true cranes are few in number by comparison witli 
the herons, there being only abovit fifteen species, of 
which America has the three already mentioned. Their 
nearest relations in America are the courlans or crying 
birds of Florida and the rails and coots. 
A Poison Ivy Poison Antidote. 
Carthage, O., July 30. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Sorne time in July, 1899, Mr. Henry Talbot alluded to 
that bane of camp sites, poison oak or ivy. I wrote an 
article describing an ever ready antidote, sending a 
stalk of the herb known localty as "ragged milk weed" 
—and as I have since learned also as "China lettuce" — 
and asked for the botanical name. In a foot note to the 
published article you said that you were unable to identfy 
it and requested a pressed leaf and if possible the 
flower. By this mail I send in package a full plant cut 
in three sections. Also upper sections of two at different 
stages and tops after branching and flowering. I have 
been unable to see a flower, but the final stage is like 
wlaat follows the blooming of the dandelions. I also 
send some pressed leaves, and hope that you may be able 
FOREST_ AND__STHEAM. 
to identify it, and will give the botanical name. Used 
as a wash after scraping or macerating, it is the best 
remedy I ha\'e ever seen used, ainj shoiild be generally 
known. E. S. Whitaker. 
The plant is the prickly lettuce (Lactuca scarioln — 
Linn.). _^ 
The Plover's Southern Flight. 
Olathe, Kan., Aug. 23. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
I heard the first note of fall to-day, the clear, bubbling 
treble of the upland plover high in the clear sky. They 
have raised their broods and now by twos, threes and half- 
dozens separated by many yards in the air they are flying 
leisurely to their winter home in the South. Of all the 
signs of the fall, this is the earliest. They nest early. I 
found many of their nests in the prairie grass here when 
I was a boy. Four beautiful, buff-colored eggs, spotted 
with maroon, very pointed, always completed a set. Their 
eggs are as large as a prairie chicken's, but the bird 
does not look to be one-tenth as large in body. One 
would not believe the eggs belonged to the bird unless he 
were assured that it were so. The prairies in central 
Kansas are covered by these birds now. They are burst- 
ing with fat and are delicious eating. They are nearly all 
gone in eastern Kansas, and I kill but a half-dozen once 
or twice a year here now. Frank Hodges. 
mti^ md 0nm 
Duck Shooting with Fred Mather. 
[It may be rememb'ered tliat in the autumn of 1898 Fred Mather 
published in Fokkst and Stre.^m a note saying that he would like 
to make a cruise in congenial company on Long Island Sound. 
Our correspondent, Mr. VV. H. Avis, responded, and out of the 
cori-espondence grew a duck shooting excursion, of which Mr. 
Avis writes pleasantly as follows:] 
Somehow this note seemed to hit me. Not that 1 
suppofeed it was intended for me personally, but i had 
often engaged in just such trips on the Sound. I 
penned regrets that I was unable to join him on such 
a cruise at that time, owing to the heavy rush for war 
materials, and the inability of gun workers to get time 
off. But I proposed a cruise just as soon as the Avar 
should end. This brought an immediate response, and 
opened the way for a most pleasant correspondence, 
which continued to just before his lamented death. 
The season was too far advanced before an oppor- 
tunity offered for a cruise. Then came a chance for a 
vacation, and duck shooting being in season, I secured the 
use of Mr. William Barker's cottage at Sachem's Head, 
Conn,, and invited Major Mather to choose a cotnpan- 
ion and join me. He accepted, and invited Dr. Bashford 
Dean. I met them by appointment at New Haven on the 
arrival of an evening train from New York on Nov. 9. 
Through some juggling of the railroad management, the 
time table had been recently changed. The train which 
I had figured on getting in fifteen minutes or so had been 
taken off. and this necessitated a wait of over three 
hours. We visited my brother, G. E. Avis, and passed 
a couple of hours listening to selections on the piano, 
singing, and in telling yarns. Major easily led in the 
story telling, and he kept us in a roar with his ready wit. 
It a letter written Oct. 19, 1898, he had said, "I am old, 
but don't grumble about it, and hate the old duffers who 
do. I was sixty-five on Aug. 2 — not as spry as a boy, yet 
I somehow consider myself to be one." The curtains of 
gloom rolled back in his presence, and jollity reigned 
supreme. 
We landed in Guilford near midnight, and a box on 
wheels dignified by the name "stage" and with just 
.seating capacity for four was awaiting our arrival. A 
small lamp burned in the forward end and cast dim, 
sickly rays, which scarcely lighted the interior. A rough, 
jolting ride through a night as black as Erebus landed 
us at our destination. 
At I o'clock we had what the Major termed "breakfast 
No. r." A look at the weather before turning in re- 
vealed a threatening aspect. The darkness was so in- 
tense you could feel it, and masses of ill defined blobs 
scurried across the sable dome; right out of the south- 
west they came. Falkner's light burned like a living coal 
in the chilly gloom, and the surf tolled a solemn requiem 
on the sands. A drop of rain gave ominous notice of 
foul weather for daylight. We retired at 2 o'clock. 
"Though the fog be dark around us, 
And the storm blow high and loud. 
We will whistle down the wild wind. 
And laugh beneath the cloud." 
Daylight came foggy, cloudy and wet with rain. The 
wind roared fiercely out of the east, and whirled the mist 
curtains in fantastic distortion across the tumbling, white- 
crested, leaden seas. The surf lashed the somber, stream- 
ing rocks with sidlen fury, and its steady roar inter- 
jningling with the heavy downpour on the shingles re- 
sembled the sullen boom of artillery amid the rattle oi 
musketry. Not much of a day, indeed, for duck shoot- 
ing, but "what a day for ducks!" 
I had overcome the habit long ago of growling at the 
weather, yet I was sadly disappointed this morning. I 
cared little on my own account, but I did want the Doc- 
tor and the Major to get as much shooting as possible, 
especially on account of Dr. Dean's time being so limit- 
ed, It was absolutely necessary for him to reach home 
on Sunday evening, as his classes needed his attention 
on Monday. But he and the Major seemed perfectly 
contented. "Harry," said the Major, "don't worry over 
trifles. We realize that you feel for us, and know that 
,vou never ordered this. You are exceedingly long of 
iimb, but not lengthy enough to turn the faucet off. Let 
us let her sprinkle unmolested. We are satisfied, the 
ducks are satisfied, and after you referee one of Dean's 
pancakes 3'ou will be satisfied — and there you are!" 
The pancakes were decidedly a revelation, and set off 
a substantial breakfast to perfection. After dishes were 
washed decoys were overhauled, guns were put in order 
and ammtanition was got out. When all these matters 
were attended to the day was well advanced. Then 
while the Doctor ajnd the Major took a whirl at chess I 
donned rubbers apd went in search of a boat for the mor- 
row. 
(Aug. 2S, igdd. 
Rain fell in torrents all day, but what cared we? It waii- 
chess, jol-ce, song and laugh; and when we retired late in'. 
the evening it seemed :as though wre- had- never been 
stranger.s. ' 
Morning broke in light and shadow^ MefCt blustering;', 
.squalls swept across the water nut of the west, and it was 
miserably cold. Hcvvy cloud masses scurried over the 
heavens and cast swiftly moving light and shade patches 
over the green, white-crested surges. The shore was a" 
line of seething breakers, and the sea was churned 
into foam on the off-shore rocks. Intermingled with. this 
tumbling worid of turmoil could be seen the outlines Osf - 
a few close-reefed vessels and swiftly moving flocks of. 
ducks. 
After a hot hastily prepared breakfast the dishes were 
left to take care of themselves. Rubber boots, sweaters 
and overcoats were donned; then the decoys, guns and 
other plunder were lugged down to the boat, which 
rode in comparatively smooth water in a depression of 
the beach. 
Something had been left behind, and the Doctor and I 
returned to the cottage for it. On our way back to the 
boat we saw the Major and the proprietor of the Sachem's 
Head House leaping and running over the rocks along 
the shore; they were shouting and pointing seaward. 
The cause of their excitement proved to be the boat 
adrift — decoys, guns, shells, oars and all! She rose and 
fell on the waves and courtesied at us in a tantalizing 
manner, and she drove on before the wind just about 
so feet outside the line of breakers. We had left her 
untied with the tide rising and the wind off shore. 
The shore trended northeast, and I knew something 
must be done quickly. Should the boat cross the bay 
.she might strand on Vineyard Point, which forms the ~ 
east shore of the bay, but there was a possibility of her 
mising that point — then good-by boat, guns and all I As 
she wouldn't come to us I weitt into the breakers. It 
was a case of getting soaked, but it solved a vexatious 
problem. We bailed the boat out and the Doctor vol- 
unteered to get her out through the breakers. It took 
a stiff argument to keep him from tackling the job, but 
I was already wet, and there was no use of two of us 
being in that condition. After three or four attempts 
I managed to get her through, and the fun was ended. 
How to set decoys in such a wind and sea presented 
another serious problem; but after a rough and tumble 
bout with the elements Dr. Dean and I solved it. The 
wind persisted in a dogged attempt to sweep us into a 
seething vortex, where the sea boiled over a jagged 
reef just north of Hump Rock, but we couldn't see it 
that way. After the task was finished I returned to the 
cottage for a change of clothing. 
Ducks were not plentiful, but the few that flew shore- 
ward liked the appearance of our decoys. They came in 
singles and small bunches, and "Mark south" and other 
directions was soon the only talk. A bunch of broad- 
bills came out of the southwest straight for the decoys. 
Right heartily were they fusilladed, and two dropped 
to our music — one dead and the other wounded. 
It took a slashing tussle with wind and wave to cir- 
cumvent the cripple. Then on our way back the Major 
keeled over an inquisitive broadbiU which swam to the 
decoys while we were in plain sight. 
It was cold on those rocks, and the Major stood the 
exposure well for one of his years. Now and then he 
would rise from his cramped position in a cleft in the 
rocks, raise his arms above his head and stretch. Then 
he would stamp around and say, "Boys, I am stiff enough 
to cut up into railroad spikes!" Then he would wipe 
his glasses, pull his corduroy hat more firmly on his 
head, take a good look around and drop out of sight 
again. Not a murmur — not the least word of com- 
plaint ever came from him; but there was ever ready a 
joke on his lips. 
The wind shifted to northeast, and as the tide lowered 
the sea lessened in the cove. The Doctor and I had man- 
aged to keep warm chasing cripples and drifting decoys, 
but the decoys now stopped drifting and cripples were 
getting scarce. By lunch time we were four broadbills 
and one coot ahead of the game, to say nothing of a 
ravenous appetite! 
Ducks were scarce indeed that afternoon, our limit 
being an old squaw and a coot. There was enjoyment, 
however, in patronizing the sheltered nooks and in 
breathing the pure outdoors. We watched the vessels 
sailing through the Sound and examined the barnacles 
and other marine life which grew on the rocks. It wa.s 
after sundown by the time the decoys were tip and the 
boat made snug for the night. 
It is generally claimed that coots and old squaws are 
worthless as food. This theory is decidedly erroneous. 
Dr. Dean took the breasts of the coots and the old squaw, 
boiled them in onion water for ten minutes, wiped them 
dry, then broiled them just enough to sear on each side. 
They were then cut checkerboard fashion on either side, 
had a lemon squeezed over them and were salted, pep- 
pered and buttered. They were then placed in the oven 
a short time and served hot. That was decidedly the 
best tasting dish I ever sampled. Perhaps it was the 
appetite, but we were blessed with a bountiful abundance 
of other food, there being on the table pancakes, pota- 
toes, beans, raw onions (in a letter relating to the com- 
missary the Major had said, "Onions first, last and for- 
ever."), sliced ham, bread and butter, cake, jelly, jam and 
apples; but the king dish was the coot and old squaws. 
Supper over at last, and the guns having been thor- 
oughly cleaned and oiled, finally came the gathering 
round the table, and good-natured banter on the events, 
of the day was followed by an e.xceedingly well-told 
story of travel and adventure in Italy by Dr. Dean. 
Then came anecdotes and a witty recitation by the 
Major, who let himself loose, because, as he confessed, 
"I feel like a boy to-night." In one of his letters he had 
said: "I am not young, but like a lively companion, 
because t am mentally lively." We retired fairly sore 
from laughter over the Major's wit. It could indeed be 
said of him: 
"Over manly strength atid worth, , 
• At thy desk of toil, or hearth, ; 
Played the lambent light of mirth.'' 
Saturday broke fair.and mild. There was a little wind 
and a slight swell rolled out of the southwest. The off- 
shore rocks were covered, and this necessitated our set- 
