24 
[Jan. 12, igol. 
on the bottom and a pronounced black on top. I would 
tell you how to make hot biscuit, but I do not know how 
myself. I can make good ones, it is true, but there is a 
lady who lives at St. Clair, Mo., who makes the best in 
the world. They are a cross between soda biscuit and 
rolls, both yeasc and soda being used in the "mix,"_ but 
she tried to tell me how it was done once and it didn't 
work, so I shall have to go back there and watch her 
do it before I can tell you about them. In my next 
chapter I will tell you how to roast a duck, stuff a 
turkey and fry a chicken (I went to Baltimore to find 
out about the chicken business). George Kennedy. 
The Fowlei^s Dteam. 
1 AM sitting burning incense at tlae shrine of Nick O'Teen, 
In a polished brier censer, with a smooth and glossy sheen, 
And a fire crackles brightly on a bed of glowing coals, 
Throwing fitful fleeting shadows, like a dance of tortured souls. 
O'er the sturdj', rough-hewn studding of the shooting lodge's walls, 
Tothe sound of dismal howling as the Night Wind blows in squalls. 
In the hollows 'tween the studding rows or guns on dress parade, 
Mutely stand at stiff "attention," silhoutted in the shade. 
And. the roaring, restless Ocean plays a drowsy lot of tunes 
As it's combers crash in thunder in their battle 'gainst the dunes. 
m * « * * * * * • 
Spiral shafts of smoke ascending from the ample chimney place 
Take on form and fact and featurg till they seem to fill the space. 
And 1 see before me standing, quite unharmed amid the flame. 
That delightful feathered fellow, most esteemed of all the game. 
Yes, a canvasback confronts me, but, O! wonder and amaze, 
His proportions are enormous as he stalks before the blaze! 
For he waddles from the chimney and he towers full six feet. 
And his strong gray wing restrains me, when I seek to fly my seat. 
Then a troop of others follow — brave lieutenants of his race — 
Till their serried ranks are filling ev'ry corner, nook and space; 
Then the Captain turns upon me, and with speech distinct and clear 
Tells my doom with cruel calmness, while the ranks all echo 
"Hear!" 
"listen well, O luckless fowler, while I read yonr sentence thus: 
" 'Many years you've shot our brothers, you'll now furnish sport 
for usl 
With your predatory habits, you've gone deeply in our debt, 
And you must admit in fairness eye for eye is good law yet.' " 
Then the ranks were quickly broken, and each canvas seized a gun, 
On the glowing embers stacked them, watched them burning, one 
by one, 
Till the Captain: "Ammunition, that is needed now, my braves! 
Ere we send our man-bird flying high in air o'er stormy waves." 
Soon with wings and feet propelling, cartridge cases there were 
brought, 
And to pile them on the embers they with quick precision wrought. 
When the shells were piled to suit them and ere they began to pop, 
I was forced, tho' most unwilling, then and there to squat on top! 
O'er mjr head the yawning chimney pointed straight up at the 
moon. 
And I knew the jolt was coming — coming strong and coming soon. 
I could hear the Captain murmur, "Mark! incomers, overhead" 
With a din that was infernal and a lurid flash of red, 
I went shooting from the chimney, to'ard the moon I 'gan to soar. 
And for this one fact was grateful — that the chimney 's not choke- 
bore. 
I went sailing swiftly upward, till at last it seemed to me 
I was turning and was falling — falling swiftly to the sea. ; 
Whirling downward, plunging seaward, with a speed as swift as 
light 
»«♦•»»•** 
Well now, bless me, I've been dozing, and my pipe is out— good- 
night. Robert Erskine Ross (Culpepper). 
BoLSA Chica Club, Dec. 17. 
The Thief Rivet Cotintfy, 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In describing the Thief River country in your Christ- 
mas Number, Charles Hallock makes some minor errors 
which I would like to correct. St. Hillaire is not, as he 
says, the terminus of the railroad in that direction. Thief 
River Falls has been the terminus of the Great Northern 
R. R. in that direction for the past eight years. From 
there Reu Lake River is navigable to Red Lake, fifty miles 
away in a straight line and ninety-seven by river. There 
are several small steamboats that ply between Thief 
River Falls and all points on Red Lake, and several miles 
up some of its tributaries on the east side. This is the 
only feasible route to Red Lake and the wilderness that 
surrounds it. I have made the trip_ several times by 
canoe before steamboats came in fashion. 
Thief River Falls is one of the best towns in the whole 
Northwest for one to strike when in search of sports 
afield. Charles Robeck, of the Ogamah Hotel, will make 
one feel at home while in town, and there is good game 
country in any direction he may chance to stray. A new 
field for muskallonge fishing is Red Lake and some of 
its tributaries, especially Big Tamarack, east of the North 
Lake. A number of them were taken last year (iQoq), 
and there are said to be great shoals of them in and near 
the mouth of Tamarack River. No accurate weights were 
taken, but estimates ran all the way from 40 to 70 pounds. 
I saw one that would measure 12 inches through the body 
from back to brisket. It was taken by Mrs. Hans L. 
Hanson, of Thief River Falls. 
Mud Lake is not ten miles long, but only about four at 
its greatest extent, and more than two at its least._ I have 
drawn my canoe up and gone into camp on every island in 
it, and in every grove that borders it. It is seldom that a 
wagon can be driven to its shores on account of sur- 
rounding marshes. It is thirty miles north of St. Hillaire, 
and Thief Lake is ten miles north of it, making it 
forty, and not fifteen, miles from St. Hilliare. 
I have canoed over every rod of river or creek that was 
big enough to float a canoe, and know the country very 
well. In fact, the Thief River country is the place that 
charms when others all fail, and is credited with many 
of the red letter days of my field experience. 
Heavy floods in the Thief River country made shoot- 
ing impossible in the fall of 1900, so that it is likely there 
will be great things in the way of game and fish next 
year, and getting after it through the swamp and tangle 
will furnish the recreation pined for. E. P. Jaques. 
Elmo, Kan., Dec. 24, 
Caribou Weights* 
Washington, D. C, Dec. 27. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: A short time ago one of your correspondents 
asked whether some of j'our readers could tell him the 
weight of a caribou he had killed, as to which he could 
give them no information other than the measurements 
of the tanned hide. I do not think he will get many 
answers to such a request, for I do not know just how 
one would go about estimating the weight of an animal 
from such data. While an animal is alive the skin is not 
at the same tension over different parts of the body, and 
while it may be possible t® get at the creature's weight 
approximately, say by the old rule of multiplying the 
square of the girth in feet by five times the length in 
inches and dividing by 21, this cannot be done with the 
stretched and tanned hide, the measurements of which 
would not give correct ideas of the length and girth. 
The term length as used here means the distance from 
between the ears to the root of the tail. Caribou stags 
killed, as I suppose the one your correspondent wrote 
about was, in the fall or rutting season have their necks 
swollen or puffed out to abnormal dimensions. I killed 
one some years ago which stood 41/2 feet high at the 
withers, the girth of the body back of the shoulders being 
4 feet 10 inches, while that of the neck at its base was 51 
inches. As it lay on the ground, Richard LeBceuf, the 
guide, and I estimated its weight by sight as 400 to 450 
pounds. * After measuring it and applying the above men- 
tioned rule, I got 364 pounds as a result. Tliis stag was 
killed in northern Newfoundland during the last week 
of October, 1891, and was one of five specimens now in 
the possession of the National Museum, this one. with 
two others, being exhibited as a group at the Chicago Ex- 
position. The horns carry only twenty-six points, but are 
very even and handsome. The spread is 34 inches, length 
of the main beam 41 inches, that of the secondary beam 25 
inches and of the brow antler 17 inches. 
I applied the rule to two moose killed within a few 
hours of each other, one of which stood 6 feet 10 inches 
and the other 6 feet Syi inches, and obtained 1,205 pounds 
as the weight of one and 743 as that of the other. This 
seems like a large difference in weight between two ani- 
mals so nearly alike in height, but I have no doubt 
that the animals would have weighed these amounts if 
put upon the scales. I am spealdng now of gross weight 
and comparing them in ray mind, as they lay, with cattle, 
the weight of which one estimates as they stand. The 
first one was a very old bull with a girth of 7 feet 10 
inches and a length of 83 inches, and the other 
somewhat younger and of a very different shape, 
tall but short bodied, with a girth of only 
6 feet 3^ inches, and longer legs in proportion. When the 
moose group was being prepared for the National Mu- 
seum, to which I contributed three specimens, I walked 
into the taxidermist's room one day and saw there a tem- 
plate prepared for the setting up of a cow moose, of which 
I had given them the dimensions, and at once told Mr. 
Palmer that it was entirely too small, but he assured me 
that it was just as the taxidcrmist-in-chief had directed 
him to make it. At the same time I saw the horns and 
hide of a bull moose which the Museum had just bought 
from somebody in Maine, and which they told me would 
stand 7 feet high; that they had a system there by which 
they could measure a hide and get the correct height and 
other dimensions of the animal to which it belonged. I 
went to the pickle tub where the hide was, examined the 
hoofs and told Mr. Palmer the moose would not stand 
7 feet high, and I doubted whether it would be as large as 
the cow he was about to set up. As it turned out, he had 
to rebuild the template, which was a foot too short and 6 
inches too low for the cow, which stood 6 feet 4 inches 
high and was 7 feet 3 inches long, and the 7-foot high 
bull came down 6 or 8 inches in height, and when it was 
set up had to be put on a little mound to give it a suffi- 
ciently commanding appearance. 
In my opinion, the only safe way to get at the weight of 
an animal is to put it on the scales, and to get at the 
dimensions, they should be taken before the animal is 
skinned. : Cecil Clay. 
The New Orang Outang at the Zoo, 
What is the "missing link"? Or, rather, is there a 
"missing link"? Scientists say there is, and I suppose 
they must be right. Yet, as one who is not a scientist, it 
has often seemed to me that for all practical purposes of 
connection there are links, and links enough. This prob- 
ably seemed to me more conclusive than ever before 
during a recent visit to the zoo in Bronx Park. There 
I came upon a "link" which I am certain would satisfy 
any one but a scientist. 
Let the reader please irpagine a creature with pretty 
nearly all the outward characteristics of a man. It is 
true the body is covered with hair (of a reddish brown) 
and that the features— especially the mouth— are more 
or less grotesque, but the human resemblance is un- 
mistakably there. And then the expression: nothing 
more human-like could possibly be. 
It was after gazing at this exhibition, which is named 
orang-outang (or Simia satyrus), and has but recently 
been transported from his native wilds of Borneo, that 
I felt satisfied, in my own mind at least, that the "missing 
link" is a myth. "Here is link enough!" quoth I. 
Twice have I seen the Bornean gentleman. I say 
gentleman, for, judging by his blase or bored expression, 
I should imagine that he was of high caste among his 
tribe. Indeed, he may have been an earl or something 
of that sort. To contend that the conferring of titles does 
not prevail among monkeys is, I think, a great error. 
The further back we go in history, the more numerous 
and grandiose we will find titles to have been, so that it 
is only natural tB assume that the custom had its origin 
in the jungle. For my own part, -I believe that when 
the simian dialect comes to be understood (as it un- 
doubtedly will, according to Prof. Garner), the truth of 
this will be amply demonstrated. And then? Well, then — 
but the theme is, too harrowing to pursue. 
To return to my lord in the cage. The first time I 
saw him he was huddled up in a corner half-covered 
with straw. His hands were crossed over his headj and 
his expression, as I have said, was bored — bored in the 
extreme. He had landed but a few days before, and it. 
might be argued from this that he was only tired. But 
I know the difference very well between a tired and a 
bored expression, and I say his lordship was bored. 
Well, he certainlj? had good cause. Instead of beautiful 
spreading palm trees all about him and a carpet of moss, 
variegated with tropical plants and flowers, there was an 
iron-barred cage and a carpet of straw. He had lost his 
freedom — been exiled — and for what? Simply to be 
stared at, ridiculed or made fun. of. Even while I stood 
there watching him, along comes a great, coarse man, 
smelling strongly of liquor, and breaks into a guffaw; 
"Well, if that ain't a case!" he cries. "Hello, Mike!" 
Then comes along a boy with a couple of companions, 
and cries: 
"Wouldn't that jar you!" And all laugh in chorus. 
Again comes along an old lady, who cries: 
"Oh, my! — oh, my! Oh, dear! — oh, dear! .And they 
say we are descended from them things! Faugh!" and 
makes faces expressive of the most intense disgust. 
And again an old gentleman with spectacles, who 
looks like a scientist, puts in an appearance and peers 
through the cage and tries to coax the occupant for- 
ward, to examine his occiput, or mesial crest, or some- 
thing, I suppose. Failing in this, he calls the keeper and 
speaks a few words in his ear. The keeper then puts an 
arm through the bars of the cage and shakes the straw 
and yells in very unceremonious fashion, but in vain, as 
I was glad to see. The occupant wouldn't budge. 
And so it went. Now, I ask, in all fairness, was not 
this enough to bore a newly arrived stranger? It bored 
him, but it did not make hitn mad, which convinced me 
that he was of superior caste. Had he been a mean 
plebeian orang-otitang he would have jumped up and 
torn around that cage and bellowed and beaten his 
breast and foamed at the mouth and created the very 
dickens generally. It should be noted, however, that 
in addition to looking bored, he occasionally raised his 
head and uttered a sort of groan, as if to emphasize his 
feelings in regard to his environment, and his visitors 
in particular. 
The second time I saw him he occupied identically the 
same position, but his expression of boredom had, as I was 
grieved to see, deepened into melancholy. His hair, too, 
was more dishevelled, and he wore a general air of one 
profoundly discouraged, or to whom life had become in- 
different. I made no dotibt that he had realized the full 
extent of his cruel and irrevocable fate. He no longer 
paid the slightest attention to his visitors — seemed 
to be quite deaf to their jibes and laughter — but with 
a far-away look in his ej'cs, remained motionless in his 
corner. I pulled out a pencil and pocketbook to make 
a sketch of him, but when I came to that upper lip, an 
uncontrollable laugh escaped me; then I felt ashamed 
of myself — felt as if I were taking advantage of help- 
lessness — making a mock of misery — and I put up my 
pencil and pocketbook. A young lady who stood near 
by and who had been regarding my occupation out of the 
corner of her eye now turned her face toward me and 
smiled a grateful smile, seeming to understand the 
situation thoroughly. Oh, the wonderful sympathy of 
woman! 
By and by feeding time arrived, and there was a tre- 
mendous to-do among the Bornean gentleman's neigh- 
bors, but he showed not the slightest interest. Nay, 
even when the keeper appeared before his cage with his 
meal, some bananas, to wit, he did not stir. The bana- 
nas were thrown in, and he then put out a languid hand, 
took one and ate it; then another, and another, till they 
were all gone. After this he lay for a considerable time 
licking his fingers (which may be the height of fashion 
in Borneo, as it is certainly not unfashionable in regions 
less remote), and then lapsed into his old listlessness. 
Before leaving, I inquired if he was sick. No, he was 
not sick; simply bored and sad — that was all. 
However, happily monkeys, as well as men, have a 
way of adapting themselves to new conditions, or recon- 
ciling themselves to their fate, be it never so hard or 
disagreeable; and it is therefore quite possible that the 
next time I visit Bronx Park I shall behold the dis- 
tinguished Bornean gentleman's equanimity restored. I 
am sure I hope so, at any rate, for he is a wonder. 
Frank Moonan. 
New York, Dec. 26. 
No Panthers in Maine. 
Boston, Mass., Jan. 4. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
I would like to raise the question whether the true North 
American panther has ever been killed or seen in the 
State of Maine. My own belief is that it has not been. 
I know that the papers of Maine often contain thrilling 
accounts of people being pursued by panthers, of their 
blood-curdling cries having been heard, their long, tawny 
bodies and waving tails having been fairly seen and fully 
identified, etc., yet I have reason to think that in 
every instance where the stipposed panther was really 
seen or heard the real animal was nothing nearer to the 
panther than the well known Canada lynx or the equally 
well known wildcat or bobcat. Why the panther should 
not occur in Maine I have no idea. I have the impression 
that the animal has been killed in Vermont, and even 
within recent years, and I believe that that most scru- 
pulously exact writer, Rowland E. Robinson described 
in one of his more recent stories, published in Forest 
AND Stream, the shooting of one in Vermont. 
If there is an authentic record of one having been killed 
in Maine I should much like to hear of it. Is the skin 
of one killed there anywhere preserved? 
Mr. Manly Hardy, the well known naturalist, and for 
fifty or more years past the most extensive fur buyer — 
as I suppose — east of the Rocky Mountains, at ^ny rate 
of New England and a large portion of the adjoining 
Provinces, tells me that he has never handled the skin 
of a panther killed in Maine. 
The nearest I can come to what seems an authentic 
account of panthers in Maine is the testimony of my old 
guide and valued friend, T. W. Billings, of Brownville. 
Mr. Billings has more than once told me of the occur- 
