164 
herons do not usually nest in colonies, single pairs often 
reigning over a considerable area of woodland. That they 
do sometimes nest in colonies, however, 1 know, for only 
last spring 1 saw two heronries, one of which contained 
twenty-three nests. It was on a wooded island some 
three or four hundred yards long by perhaps a hundred 
yards wide, covered with saplings averaging about twenty 
feet in height, and with an undergrowth of wild azaleas 
and other bushes. The nests were all built in the saplings 
from twelve to fifteen feet from the ground. Most of the 
neste consisted of a mere handful of black sticks, so loosely 
■put together that in many cases the eggs could be seen 
^irough the bottoms of them. I examined several nests, 
none of which contained more than five eggs, though these 
herons do sometinies lay six. They were of a uniform 
pale blue color,, and had a beautiful dull surface. Even 
-those in the same nest in many cases differed greatly in 
size and shape, thsugh "elliptical" wojild describe the 
outline of most of them. The birds themselves were very 
much agitated and flew rapidly back and forth above tjieir 
nests, squawking loudly. Occasionally one of them would 
alight on a tree and walk along a branch to some point 
commanding a view of the nest. Here he would crane 
his long neck and walph me suspiciously, all his move- 
ments being accompanied by a nervous twitching of the 
tail. 
The young birds bear a strong resemblance to their 
parents, from which they can be distinguished, however, 
hy the blackish streaks on the neck and underparts and 
the wide bufTy margins of the wing coverts. 
All the herons are fishers, and they are not only 
among the most skillful, but also among the most quiet 
and orderly members of their craft. ^Moreover, they take 
onlv what they need for food. They are true sportsmen, 
reb'ang entirely upon their own skill, and have never been 
known to use nets, dynamite or poison. Therefore, they 
should be treated as sportsmen by their less skillful human 
brethren, and should not be subjected to the uncourteous 
and sometimes cowardly and inhuman treatment which 
they MOW receive. Their ancestors have fished in these 
streams for thousands of years, and in spite of most 
grievous provocation, not a member of their family has 
been guilty of a breach of the peace. Lower your guw 
then, take" up your heron snares and makes these timid, 
harmless birds your welcome guests. No _ more 
picturesque bird than the heron exists, and the sight of 
him standing motionless on the bank of a stream or 
pond is worth many fish. In him, moreover, you have an 
opportunity to entertain a distinguished guest — a friend of 
Alexander' Wilson and a companion of Izaak Walton. 
Ernest Harold Bavnes. 
Stamford, Conn. 
^tt(0 md ^nm 
Game North of the Line. 
Kipp, Mont., Aug. 20. — Years ago, not so many years 
either, but a long, long time when measured by the 
changes which have since taken place, there was a broad, 
deep wagon trail scarring the prairie from the head of 
navigation on the Miss^ouri River in Montana to the 
rivers of northwestern Canada. In the days I speak 
of, the International Boundary Line had not been sur- 
veyed, and no one knew where Uncle Sam's territory 
ended and the Queen's began. 
The prairie was covered with buifalo and antelope in 
those days ; the breaks of the rivers and the cottonwood 
groves swarmed 'with elk and deer. On every high 
ridge, along every range of river bluffs, bands of the 
wary big-horn cropped the short, rich grasses, com- 
paratively safe from the pursuit of man. And along the 
streams, by the borders of prairie lakes and springs, were 
•to be seen the smaky lodges of the prairie people — the 
Blackfeet, the Bloods, the Piegans, Gros Ventres and 
Sarcees — lords of an almost illimitable dorinain, oppressors 
of surrounding tribes, enemies of the white men who 
ventured to penetrate their country and exploit its wealth 
of robes and furs. 
Regardless of the dangers which daily and nightly 
beset them, a band of bold-hearted traders annually 
started from the Missouri River, and with wagon and 
pack train penetrated the -v^ilds of this Northwestern 
country. Indian arrows and bullets could not stop them ; 
they traveled northward to the St. Mary's, the Belly and 
Old Man's rivers, and further to the Little and Big Bow, 
the Red Deer and the Saskatchewan, and with axe in one 
hand and rifle in the other, built impregnable forts, where 
they stored their goods — dry and wet, but principally 
wetland fleeced the Indian of his hard-earned robes. 
And why not? Sentiment and ethics were all very well 
% their place, but they had no place in the grim realities 
' of those days. The Indian wanted alcohol, yet would 
murder those who furnished it when he had a chance. 
The trader risked his life to supply it; consequently, if 
" Ke could make the Indian pay a $7 robe for a drink of 
diluted spirits, was he getting more than he earned? 
In . those days might made right, and, after all, that is 
nature's inexorable law. In spite of our boasted civiliza- 
tion, does not that law rule the world to-day? Read the 
daily papers and — think. 
' •Nothing now remains of the traders' trail but dim 
I'and grass-growH furrows. The buffalo were extermi- 
' iiaited. Railways penetrated the country, and the long 
strings of "bull trains" freighted with robes, with the 
•pelts of elk and deer, wolf and beaver, became a thing of 
the past. And the traders, one by one, in time were 
"biiried under the sod or drifted to other climes. Only 
thfcc or four remain who can tell of those wild and ex- 
citing days, 
'.Recently the writer had occasion to revisit the Northern 
coimtry, but instead of going by bull train or on horse- 
back or in a dead-ax wagon drawn by a pair of wall-eyed 
cayuses, we boarded the sleeper of a Great Falls and 
Canada train at Great Falls and steamsd rapidly out of 
■the station, following practically the route of the old 
wagon trail clear to Lethbridge, Alberta, the present 
terminus of the road. Leaving the Missouri, we fol- 
lowed up the Valley of Sun River, past the painted houses 
of ranchmen, past vast fields of timothy and alfalfa and 
FOREST_ 'AKD_ STREl AM. 
waving grain, where formerly we had- seen the painted 
lodges of the Blackfeet in a setting of red; drying- 
buffalo meat and white-fleshed robes. Kok-sis-stuks-kwi 
(River-of-the-Pile-of-Rocks) is the Blackfoot name of 
this stream. The word sounds something like that for 
sun ; likely .some early adventurer made the mistake, and 
as Sun River it has ever been known to the white men. 
The north fork of this stream, instead of starting from 
the summit of the Rockies and flowing directly east- 
Avard, as most streams on this slope do, follows a wide 
timbered and prairie valley for over a hundred miles 
straight south from its source before it breaks through a 
deep caiion out into the plains. Probably this valley and 
its bordering mountains afford the best big-game shoot- 
ing now to be found in Montana. The few parties who 
have tried it report plenty of elk, deer, big-horn, goats 
and bear. 
Leaving the Sun River, the railway climbs out and 
over a wide stretch of high, dry prairie land, and then 
down into and across the Valley of the Teton. Arid 
then we climb out again ^nto the high table land, and in 
an hour or so come to Maria's River, so named by Lewis 
and Clark after one of their sweethearts. Kai'is-i-sakta 
(Bear River) the Blackfeet named it in the long ago, and 
even in the writer's time it deserved the name, for 
grizzlies were uncommonly plentiful along its breaks 
and timbered bottoms. Here, where the railway crosses 
the stream, was once a trading post, a quadrangular con- 
■ struction of log buildings and palisades. Fort Conrad 
we named it, and for many a year it was the center of a 
large fur trade. Not a trace of the fort remains; the 
ever-changing river has been eating away the bank upon 
which it stood, and at last taken it all down in its 
yellow flood. It was here in the spring of 1882 that the 
last Indian skirmish in northern Montana took place. We 
had a large band of horses, which were corral ed every 
night, and turned out to graze during the day time in 
charge of a herder.. In the afternoon of this day, the 
herder left them to graze on the hills until dusk, while he 
came in as usyal to get his supper, but when. he went 
out again, not one of them was to be found; where he 
had left them, a long, befeathered "coup stick" was 
planted in the ground. He hurried back to the fort, gave 
the alarm, and there was a grand rush by every one for 
rifles and cartridge belts, saddles and bridles. Fortu- 
nately, some thirty lodges of Piegans were encamped 
across the river, and they not only gladly loaned what 
saddle horses were neededj but insisted on joining in 
pursuit of the thieves. It mattered not to them who they 
might be, for they were at war with all surrounding 
tribes. It was quite dark when the pursuit began, so 
dark that the trail of the marauders could not be seen, so 
one party rede away to the south, one to the north and a 
third, under the leadership of Jack Miller, eastward over 
the hills bordering the river. 
The raiders were a band of about 100 Crees, and as 
we found out later, they had lain in the brush several 
miles below the fort for some days watching for an 
opportunity to get away with our herd, or that of the 
Piegans. Through some misunderstanding or unforseen 
circumstance, when they took our band, five of the Crees 
failed to be on hand in time, and three or four miles 
below the fort Miller's little party ran right into them. 
Likely the Crees thought they were their friends bringing 
them" some horses to ride, but when they saw their mis- 
take they fired a volley at the approaching horsemen and 
ran down into a deep hollow between the hills. It was so 
dark then that they could only be seen by the flashes of 
their guns, but on the other hand, their pursuers, standing 
or riding about on the rim of the basin and outlined 
against the starlit sky, afforded a very fair mark. Bul- 
lets flew thick and fast from the Winchesters on both 
sides. Miller's horse -was shot from under him and 
tumbled over and over, throwing its rider a heavy fall, but 
luckily doing him no harm. Tail Feathers got a glancing 
shot, which neatly cut his scalp open from his brow to th^ 
back of his head, exactly on the line where he parted 
his hair. He fell to the ground as if the bullet 
had penetrated his brain, and was unconscious for some 
little time. Little Dog was the next victim, getting a 
shot in the thigh, and then Bear Paw had two fingers 
shot away. But despite wounds, the little party kept 
shooting away into the dark hollow, and gradually the 
fire of the Crees dropped away, until one gun answered 
them, and finally that ceased too. Then, with perhaps 
more valor than discretion, Miller, Tail Feathers and 
Bear Paw charged down the steep incline. Three of the 
Crees were dead, one dying and the other had fired 
away his own and his comrades' last cartridges. But he 
was game to the last; he rushed at them with his gun 
clubbed, but he fell, pierced by several bullets, at their 
horses' feet. It was a proud moment for the Piegans. 
They scalped the enemy, took their arms, and cut off 
several feet and hands' for -their women to kick and 
knock about the camp. 
We never recovered our horses. Likely they were 
sold and traded, or kept concealed in the country far 
north of the Saskatchewan until we gave up trying 
to trace them. 
The Marias was always a great country for sharp- 
tail grouse and sage hens, and a ranchman who boarded 
the train at this point said that they seemed to be as 
plentiful as ever, few of the settlers having the time or 
caring about shooting them. We also learned that a 
number of white-tail deer are to be found in the river 
bottoms, and are rapidly increasing, the ranchmen having 
all agreed not to molest them, even in the open season. 
They are said to be very tame, allowing teams and horse- 
men to pass within a couple of hundred yards of them 
without paying any heed whatever. South of Marias 
and particularly between Fort Conrad and the Knees, a 
couple of buttes thirty miles distant, antelope are said to 
be fairly plentiful. 
A run of ten miles northward from the Marias brings 
us to Shelby Junction, where we cross the tracks of the 
Great Northern Railway. Leaving the Junction, the train 
runs up the left side of what we used to call the Alkali 
Flat. This was, in the rainy season, the hete noir of the 
old-time traders and freighters; even a hght shower 
would make such a sticky paste of the soil that it was 
impossible to cross it mth loaded' wagons. For a dis- 
tSEI't. I, 190O. 
tance of eleven-.tniles in this flat the railway runs by the 
side of a narrow,' shallow, grassy lake. It is a great 
breeding place for all kinds of aquatic and shore birds, 
and we saw thousands of them floating on the watar 
and walking about on the bars. It was May 18 when 
we passed there, and we were surprised to see a flock 
of some twenti' or more snow geese rise from the shore 
in front of the engine and circle out into the lake. Con- 
ductor Waghorn told us that last year a flock of about 
the same size remained on the lake all summer, which 
was still more surprising, for we had alwaj^s believed. that 
these fowl never stopped south of the Great Slave Lake 
country. Is it possible that, as Mr. Waghorn thinks, they 
breed in these northern Montana lakes? 
And now, after a little, we approach the Rocky Spring 
Ridge. I would that I had time and space to tell of the 
part this long range of frowning bluffs has played in the 
history of northern Montana ; of the battles between the 
difi:erent Indian tribes, and between the Indians and 
white men, which have been fought along its slopes and 
rocky walls. • But that is not the purpose of this article. 
What I started to do, and have been so long getting at, 
was to tell the readers of Forest and Stream something 
about these Northwestern plains and the shooting to be 
found here. Probably there is no other place in all 
America which affords such splendid antelope, sharp-tail 
grouse and water fowl shooting combined as the country 
lying between the International Boundary Line and the 
South Saskatchewan, in the vicinity of the Great Falls & 
Canada Railway. Going over and returning, we saw 
each time numerous small bands of antelope from the 
windows of our car, especially in the vicinity of Milk 
River, which is crossed thirteen miles north of the line. 
Those who dread the fatigue and vexations of a pack 
trip in the mountains, and who yet wish to get out for a 
breathing spell in the high, dry altitudes of the North- 
west, cannot do better than to give this country a trial. 
Starting from Coutts, at the Boundary Line, or from 
Milk River Station, further north, one cannot help 
having a successful trip, no matter which way he goes. 
Personally, I would prefer to go down the river, camping 
along its brush and timbered bottoms. A four-horse 
team and Avagon for carrying the tents and supplies, and a 
gentle saddle horse for each sportsman, would be all the 
outfit required for such a trip. Except for one or two 
ranches, and a station of the Northwest Mounted Police 
in the vicinity of Writing Stone, twenty miles east of the 
railway, the country is yet uninhabited. For some years 
the Canadian Government has not allowed its Indians to 
go -forth and butcher antelope, and as a consequence the 
shy and beautiful' animals are rapidly increasing. How- 
ever, they never have been scarce in this vicinity; the 
almost illimitable and deserted plains stretching away to 
the east and north afford a vast breeding ground for 
them, where they are seldom disturbed by man. 
At the place called Writing Stone, the river rushes 
through a rock-walled cafion, on the sides of which in 
by-gone days the Indians were wont to picture their deeds 
of war, their encounters with fierce animals, and their 
dreams. These pictographs show up as plainly now as 
they did the day they were so laboriously cut into the 
rock by patient hands. With rude flints, and perhaps 
later with steel, the simple red men have here left a record 
of their life well worth traveling a long distance to see. 
Below Writing Stone the bottoms are heavily timbered 
with cottonwood, affording shelter for white-tail deer, 
which are fairly numerous. In the breaks and cowloirs of 
the river ridges, and especially northeast of the Sweet 
Grass Hills, mule deer can be found in sufficient numbers 
to insure good sport. Still further eastward, where the 
wild plum and cherry grow in profusion, the patient 
hunter may be rewarded by a shot at a grizzly. Several 
have recently been seen by the Mounted Police. 
As yet this country has never been shot over by sports- 
men, excepting Lord Swansea, of England, who several 
years ago bagged six antelope, several wolves and coyotes 
and any number of chickens in less than a week. -He is 
a large shareholder of the railway, and slept every night 
in his private car on some side track along the line. 
Sargeant Farver, of the Mounted Police, told me that, 
with a good dog, he could raise from fifty to one hundred 
coveys of chickens (sharp-tails) a day along Milk River. 
This stream along most of its course is very sluggish, with 
innumerable slews and pond holes, where ducks and geese 
breed, and which afford a resting place for the great 
flight of fowl to and from the North. There are also 
hundreds of shallow, grassy lakes, some many miles in 
extent, lying north and south of the river, where the 
best of shooting can be had from Sept. i until winter. 
Canvasbacks and red-heads are almost as plentiful as 
the other ducks after Oct. I. 
Let not the pot or market hunter who may chance to 
read these lines think that he can come out here and ply 
his nefarious trade. The game laws of Canada are 
strict; the Mounted Police, here, there and everywhere, 
are ever on the lookout, for just such men, and their 
shrift would be short. What has been written here is 
solely for the benefit of Forest and Stream sportsmen 
readers whose creed is moderation, and who believe in 
fair play. Such will receive a hearty welcome from the 
guardians of the Boundary Line, true sportsmen them- 
selves, and they will do all in their power to insure the 
visitor a pleasant time. J. W. Schultz. 
North Dakota Prairie Chickens. 
Fargo, N. D, — On the opening day of the chicken 
season, the 20th ult., at Tower City, N. D., our party 
bagged forty, and on the 21st thirty-eight. The weather 
was suffocatingly hot. The hemp fields were uncut and 
many birds, especially second broods, were still under 
cover in the flax. The shooting will be better later on. 
The sportsmen here consider that the season opens too 
soon. Sept. i would be early enough, and I think that 
Sept. 15 would be ^tilj better. 
A. W. Du Bray. 
New Jersey Shore Birds. 
B.wviLLE, N. J., Aug. 25. — There are very few bay 
birds flying, and the fish seem to have moved, as tV-ev are 
not biting very fast. _ Herb. 
