Oct, .20, igoo.j| 
FOREST_AND _STREAM. 
SOS 
By • careful questioning each one learned just how 
much and just how iittie the other knew regarding the 
ahajr at the pool, and when .1 reiurned in me evening 
they had concocted a story that dovetued so beaut.luUy 
it wouid have deceived any jury, and 1 had not the 
heart to bring coniusion upon them. And yet each one 
suspected the other, and in the bouom ol his heart knew 
that he was merely weaving strange fancies into tair 
sounding words. 
"By the way," said I to the Doctor just before we 
turned in, "did you get that trout?" 
He stared at me Oiankiy lor a moment. "D,ear me, I 
forgot all about it " he began and then checked him- 
self. . 
■'W'hat tiout?" Jack inquired. 
"One that he dropped when he fell down the bank," 
I voiunteered. "1 saw it there when I arrived on tne 
scene, just as you rescued the Doctor," 
"1 had one, but I lost him," said the Doctor resignedly. 
"It was a big one. It weighed about three pounas. It s 
all on account of that infernal rod. The man that told 
me about it is a fraud> and I propose to tell him so some 
^iay." _ 
"Where is the rod?" I inquired. 
"I broke it all to pieces. Ihere is nothing left of the 
thing, 1 am glad to say." 
"i'unny you didn't say something about that trout 
before," said Jack suspiciously. 
"I forgot all about it in the excitement of the moment," 
the Doctor exp»ained, beginning to show signs of ner- 
vousness. 
"Don't see how you could," Jack growled. "Three- 
pound trout are rare." 
'■'1 hey are that," I remarked. "They don't grow on 
every tree — do they, Doctor?" 
The Doctor looked worried, and maintained a dis- 
creet silence. I took pity on him and addressed myself 
to Jack. 
"What would you have done," I asked him, "if, instead 
of the Doctor, a panther had landed in the pool?" 
"Don't know, 1 am sure," he answered, as though the 
thought had never occurred to him before. "It would 
have been a good chance to finish him with my revolver, 
and I think I should have taken the risk. But I am 
getting sleepy, and am going to turn in. You'd better 
go back there to-morrow-. Doctor, and look for that trout. 
Good night." 
I have never told them all I know about the affair, 
and'! still get my fun out of it when we are together. 
They both are endowed with extraordiany powers of in- 
vention, and it is interesting to observe the wonderful 
workings of their imagination, especially the Doctor's. 
He would make a good politician. He can change his 
mind as gracefully as any woman, and it is so easy for 
him to make himself believe anything that the occasion 
demands. 
Yes, the Doctor would make a first-class politician 
with a big P. As a senator he would be a grand success, 
but as a fisherman — well, the least said tine better. 
Fayatte Dublin, Jr. 
Climbing: Black Head Mountain. 
I tiSED to have an idea that mountain climbers belonged 
to a class of individuals with particularly lively imagina- 
tion, or bumps of exaggeration abnojrmally deveioped. 
But I do not think so any more. On thfe contrary, I th.nk 
that cleaning an Augean stable, or anything of that sort, is 
mere child's play to climbing a mountain. And yet I 
bave not been up Mt. St. Elias, or even the Matterhorn. 
but only Black Head in the Catskills. 
On one occasion the sapient Thackeray wrote : "Young 
man, never, 7tevcr climb a mountain." I first read this as 
a,^boy, and 1 remember well with what contempt it in- 
spired me. What a great lazy fellow that Thackeray must 
have been, I thought. Oh, the presumptJion of youth— 
always pretending to know better than agie! With w^hat 
bitter force Thackeray's advice came back to me when , 
But I anticipate. 
The sun was shining brightly when De K. and I got up 
and cast our eyes toward Black Head. There was the 
majestic dome looming against the sky exactly as it had 
loomed for centuries and centuries. Presently a white 
cloud floated over it, broke and tlien floated down the 
side in fragments. This might have served to remind me 
that Black Head was literally among the cloiuds, but I 
pnly thought of the beauty of the picture — never concern- 
ing myself with the climb before me. 
Breakfast was disipatched and then we made ready. De 
K. slung his camera over his shouilders and I my field 
glasses over mine. In addition to these, we burdened our- 
selves only with a bottle of water, .some sandwiches and 
apples. Gaily as two boys bent on a bird-nesting expedi- 
tion, we started off. Keeping to tlie high road for about 
haff a mile, we met our worthy host, honest Walter 
Schoonmaker, of Mountaindale, who, observing our jaunty 
air remarked with one of his slow, wise smiles : "You'll 
have a different gait coming back !" and then with another 
.smile he swayed his body from side to side. We only 
scoffed at him and resumed our march with the utmost 
confidence. 
Turning off the high road we made our way through 
several fields and strips of wood and at length came to 
the foothills. These seemed interminable, and so winded 
one- of us that when half way up the steepest of them 
he called a halt, and sitthig down grew, very pensive. 
Looking up he saw that pnactically, the mountain had all 
yet to be climbed. It was 'then thnt Thadceray's words 
came back with such bitter • force, and the repentance of 
the whilom scoffer vfzs sincjere and absolute. However, 
in-a little while I got my sejcond w,ind, aivd jumping up 
fek.'strtmger and more deternjiined than ever. "Advance !" 
vv^s now the word. In half an hour more we got over 
thfc foothills and came to t|he first real ascent. Being 
w*ll broken in or warmed to our work we took this with 
more or less ease. Our trail lay through a part of the 
mountain which had been qecently swept by fire, and 
looked very black and desolate. By lo o'clock we were 
on what is known as the Hote's Back. This ascent, was 
gi'adual, but at the end of ft we came to what looked 
like the side wall of a house. There was no turning back, 
of course, nor yet burning a?ide, for on either hand was 
a deep ravine. iTiclining fc|rwatrd, therefore, until we 
might have been said to Ik on ail fours, we set to wotIL 
lJ»ggi"g hands and feet into the earth, we crept for- 
ward cautiously. There was little or no vegelatioo to by 
hold on, and the earth being loose and gravelly it is need- 
less to say that we spent a bad quarter of an hour.' Not 
the least anxious part of it was when De K., who is a 
very fiend among photographers, unslung his camera and 
asked me to pose before a piece of rock in our path. 
The look I gave him, in which anguish and appeal were 
blended in equal parts, would have melted any ordinary 
heart, but when De K. is on photographic business bent 
he is inexorable, and so I had to pose. That the camera 
did not reflect my heels merely asT went crash;ng down 
to destruction was due to a mercy of Providence. It 
was certainly, 1 am convinced, owing to a decree of 
fate, angered at De K.'s hardness of heart, that imme- 
diately after this the bottle of water which he carried in 
his pocket fell out and was dashed to pieces. It seemed as 
if all our hopes had simultaneously met with the same 
fate, and I involuntarily covered my face in my hands and 
groaned. To go on without water? That was now the 
question. The day being cool, we decided this in the 
aflirrnative, though perhaps imprudently. Well, the top of 
the "wair[ was at length reached, and to be sure we 
heaved a sigh of relief, as we wiped our perspiring brows. 
Then we set out along a pleateau on which the walking 
was easy enough, but presently got among heavy timber 
and underbrush. Trail there appeared to be none, so we 
had to steer the best way we could. Arduously forcing 
our way along, we came to the base of Black Head, 
Now began indeed a terrible climb — c)ver rocks, fallen 
timber, dense underbrush ail on a steep incline — it almost 
resembled the task of Sisyphus over again. I was too 
serious now to even think of Thackeray's jeu d'esprit, 
but fortunately I felt no inclination to sit down. Neither 
evidently did De K. Indeed, we were strung to the 
highest pitch. There must be no breaking down now ! 
seemed to be our mutual thought, as we silently and 
laboriously moved upward. Breaking down ! That meant 
a night alone in those savage and solitary wi'd?, from 
which we both recoiled with a sort of horror. How long 
we had been engaged in this last ascent we did not know, 
or apparently care, so absorbed were we in the idea of 
reaching our goal. Suddenly as the sun appears from a 
rack of clouds, the latter appeared to our delighted eyes. 
A vast table rock, washed to an xyoiy smoothness by the 
rains of countless ages. Upon it we jumped with a cheer, 
and then casting our eyes about . Well, we felt re- 
warded. Wherefore attempt to picture that view! There 
is in it that which strikes man dumb and makes him feel 
how impotent language is after all. 
An hour was consumed in blissful ease, eating our 
frugal luncheon and contemplating the panorama that lay 
stretched before us. De K. was the first to rise, and 
again the camera was unslung and again the button was 
touched — not once, but half a dozen times. But, pshaw ! 
What's the good of photographing such scenery as that ! 
It almost seems a desecration. I hinted something like 
this to De K., but he replied that he merely wanted to 
get me in, whereat I blushed and felt smaller than 1 think 
I ' ever had before. 
It being now 2 o'clock, we began to consider the ad- 
visability of setting out on our return, but having ob- 
served that the summit of Black Head seemed to be a 
little higher than the rock, we decided first to penetrate 
there. To do this \vas only a matter of ten or fifteen 
minutes' progression. When at length we judged that we 
had reached the very top we stood in silent contemplation. 
The ground was covered with moss and felt to the feet 
like a, Turkish carpet; pines rose up thickly on all sides 
with here and there one fallen and rotting on the ground; 
the light was dim like that of an old catliedral ; absolute 
silence reigned, save, for a faint sighing of the wind in 
the tree tops ; the place seemed full of a solemn awe. and 
one felt as if he were in the very sanctuary of nature. 
Through what aeons this place has remained the same, I 
mused. Perchance since the great upheaval not half a 
hundred human feet have penetrated here. Unconscious- 
ly a sense of sadness and oppression stole upon one. as if 
one were remote— far from the world, as upon the bosom 
of the ocean. 
It was with a feeling of relief, yet not unmixed with 
regret, for there was a strange fascination about the spot, 
that we_«et out on our return. Now our march was all 
dovyn hill, but the same obstacles lay in our path, and 
besides the downward motion was very trying on the 
knees. After getting clear of Black Head with its terrible 
tangle, we pursued our way along the plateau, and de- 
cided, instead of returning by the "wall," to search for 
another trail. This we were fortunate enough to find 
about a mile further on toward Webster iMountain. 
Thanks to the coolness of the day and the few apples we 
carried, we had not experienced any serious thirst. There 
being one apple left, De K. was for halving and eating it. 
but I would by no means hear of it. With the utmost 
gravity I represented that we were still far from home, 
that a hundred accidents might befall, and that that ar-ple 
might yet prove our salvation. De K. laughed, but he kept 
the apple in his pocket until we reached the foothills. 
There was it halved and partaken of joyously. 
As we left the towering mountains behind us, n'ght was 
falling rapidly and nothing was'to be heard but the harsh, 
wild cries of the woodpeckers and the doleful quaver- 
ing of the red owl {Strix asio). The latter resembles 
nothing so much as the wailing of an infant, -with the 
addition of some horrid quality which can only be de- 
scribed as unearthly. -. Fallinig on fhe ears of one un- 
accustomed to bear it, in the "forest tn the stillness of the' 
night, it is almost enough to nlake the blood run cold. 
Grateful was the sight of home and the shining lights 
— the friendly faces of the cheerful board. We had come 
out of the wilderness and having done our work we 
to<-)k our ease. Frank Moonan. 
NAMELESS REMITTERS. 
The Forest and Stream Publishing Co. is holdia* 
several sums of money which have been sent to it for 
subscriptions and books by correspondents who have 
failed to give name and address If this note comes 
to the eye of any such nameleks remitter we trust to 
ba«r Jtroni him. 
Gherry-Eating Foxes. 
Editor I^orest mid Stream: 
The other day my farmer shot two fine spedmens of 
the gray fox in the swamp not far from the house. They 
had evidently been there a good while, and appear to 
have been feeding on rabbits only. 
A peculiar feature of the autopsies is that in the cas'' 
of both animals I find from twenty to thirty wild cherry 
pits throughout the course of the small intestijie. I 
should like to know why this is. Is it analogous at all 
to the habit in the domestic dog of occasionally eating 
grass? The pits at this season have nothing left on tliem 
save a suspicion of wrinkled skin. 
xA.ll through the summer I have found on all the fox 
runs in the neighborhood droppings which contained 
many cherry stones. I have always supposed that these 
belonged to the raccoon, but what I saw yesterday leads 
me to believe that this is not true. iPARMER. 
[It is well known that several species of the dog family 
in North America to some extent feed on fruit. Tiie 
domestic dog is, of course, accustomed to a mixed diet, 
ot which flesh constitutes only a small part. We have 
seen many dogs that would eat apples, and others that 
would swallow down grapes as fast as they were ofTered 
to them. Domestic animals, however, have perverted 
tastes, and offer no sure guide as to what wild animals 
will do. 
On the northwest coast we have seen the droppings of 
gray or timber wolf which were composed ainnost en- 
tirely of the seeds of liie salmon berry, whde it is well 
known that the coyotes of the Southwest feed to a very 
considerable extent on the fruit of the prickly pear. The 
foxes of Alaska and the northwest coast feed almost eiv 
tirely on the wash of the beach, which consists largely 
of fish and shell fish; our own red fox in times of scarcity 
cats fish, crabs, shell fish, eggs and even insects. The 
South American guara lives largely on fruit and roots, 
as does also the so-called raccoon dog of Japan. The 
African fennec, which is a fox, is fond of dates, and is 
said to be able to climb the date palm in order to oV 
tain the fruit. There is a crab-eating dog in South 
America, wdiich may be assumed to take its name from 
the food It lives on. In general terms, it may be stated 
that the doghke animals of Southern countries, appear 
more disposed to adopt a vegetable diet than those in- 
habiting the North. 
The food habits of the raccoons and of the bears are 
well understood to be omnivorous, and beechnuts are 
^.^/^ sometimes to be eaten by the fisher or black eat 
{Must da pennantii). 
The gray fox is more given to eating vegetable food 
than the commoner red fox of the North, although fruit 
IS sometimes eaten by that species. It is said that oc- 
casionally the gray fox tears down the cornstalks and 
feeds on the corn in the milk. That a knowledge 6f the 
frmt-eatmg habits of foxes is old is shown by this quota- 
tion, attributed to him whose name has become as a 
proverb tor wisdom: "Take us the foxes, the little foxes 
tnat spoil the vines; for our vines have tender grapes." 
the fox grapes of Eastern American, however, so 
iamihar to every country dweller, are believed to have 
received their name not from the fact that they are eaten 
by toxes to any extent, nor from the further fact that Jhcy 
hang high and so are inaccessible, but from the slightly 
to.xy or musky odor which the clusters exhale 
We have no doubt that foxes commonly eat cherries 
because they like them, but we should be very glad to 
record further observations on this point from any of our 
readers who m ay have had opp ortunity to make lhem.J 
Naturalists on the Yukon. 
The publication known as North American Fauna ia 
the especial official organ of the Biological Survey of 
the United States Department of Agriculture. It li 
issued at irregular intervals, and each issue is complete 
in Itself, containing one or more interesting papers on 
birds or mammals or fauna! areas or an account of the 
.study of some special region. 
In No 19 of this publication, which was issued Oct. 6 
is presented a paper giving the "Results of a Biological 
Keconnoissance of the Yukon River Region," prepared 
under the direction of Dr. C. Hart Mefriam. CWef of 
Division of Biological Survey. The pamphlet gives a 
general account of the region, an "Annotated Lisfof the 
fS^T^^T'l Wilfred H. Osgood, and an ^Annota ed 
Pol -n^ Dr. Louis B. Bishop, of New ICaven, 
L-onn. It IS illustrated by a number of full-page plates 
some giving views of scenery along the route, others 
having- a bearing on the habits of squirrels, and others 
still showing skulls of various mammals 
thJ Wht/^M f''^%Skagway and the tram service about 
the White Horse Rapids have already made very light 
the labor of reaching the Yukon district. The distance 
traveled by Mr. Osgood, Dr. Bishop and A. G. Mad- 
dren-more than i,8oo miles from Skag^vay to the Bering 
Sea— was comfortably traversed. Their progress was 
ea.sy and rapid and, except for an unfortunate capsize be- 
t A T" mosquitoes made life a good deal of a 
burden for the explorers, until they had become more or 
ess accustomed to them, and had learned to protecf 
themselves against their attacks 
Mr. Osgood's discussion of the faunal regions passed 
over will have an especial mterest for al! biologists; the 
more so since the region about the upper Yukon has 
never before been studied. It is not surprising that much 
interesting material should have been collected 
Among the larger game reported on by Mr Oseood 
are the two species of caribou, the barren ground and 
the mountain. The mountain caribou is .said to be nuite 
common m northern British Columbia, but spending he 
summer on the higher groud, it is seldom killed at that 
season by traveling parties. The domesticated reindeer 
has m some cases strayed away from the Government 
herds imported into Alaska and become wUd 
