80 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
a downy, and besides displaying the well-known neat- 
ness of that artistic wood-worker, the whole interior was 
lined as white as snow with Avhat we decided to be 
the mycelium of the dryrot fungus. Of course, we 
left undisturbed the demure little creature in her fairy 
hall, leaving her still to keep watch and ward over the 
crystal orbs containing the fruition of her fondest hopes. 
I haA^e spoken of the harsh quality of the picine voice. 
Even here there is saving grace. The hi, hi, of a first 
flicker is a pleading, an inspiring, call to the lagging 
spring. The soft koor-r of M. carolinus adds another 
charm to even the memories of sugar making. The 
minor tones of the AprO pileated are rare and sweet, the 
staccato notes of the great forest ranger changing in 
the spring, becoming lower, tenderer — softened and sub- 
dued by love. 
But music has other mediums than the voice with 
which to express the emotions. This the woodpeckers 
well know, and so have learned the value of instrumental 
music. Given a hard, dry and splintered stub, a red- 
headed woodpecker — especially in the spring of the year — 
will by a series of rapid strokes produce a rolling call, 
suggesting the not unpleasant din of a snare drum. The 
music depends more on the resonant quality of the 
sounding board than on the expertness of the per- 
former. Once in a while, by a lucky chance, an alto- 
gether unusual instrument is discovered. The thought 
of one of these recalls an incident of my school days. 
Swamp College, long since removed, and now a 
granary on a neighboring farm, was at the time I write 
of a store house, where we boys intermittingly trudged 
to procure some scattered grains of wisdom, mixed, I 
fear, with an altogether undue amount of chaff. The 
building was constructed of logs, having the top of each 
gable end weather-boarded. Boys passing at safe hours 
could seldom deny themselves the litxury of throwing a 
stick or stone at the thin boards of the gable end. Not 
to satisfy a grudge against the building or teacher was 
this done, but merely to waken the echoes, asleep in the 
surrounding woods. On some such occasion as this a 
red-headed woodpecker, sitting disconsolate on a sodden 
stub, must have heard the long drawn owl rattle, and 
hearing, received an inspiration. On a day in spring 
during school hours above the hum of the school room 
sounded a loud tattoo. The teacher, half-frightened, 
thought at the worst it was merely some new and tem- 
porar}^ freak of the boys. But no; the boys, although de- 
lighted at the diversion, were as much mystified as the 
teacher. Then Miss W., stepping softly, went out, and 
on her return (gracious young lady that she was), al- 
lowed the pupils to tiptoe by twos and threes to the 
open door to see the mj'stery explained. 
I remember thinking the woodpecker more frightened 
at his own stupendous success in making a noise than 
he was at the school watching him at such close quarters. 
The whole upper and vacant chamber of a school 
house for a drum! Why. he simply beat the other 
woodpeckers all hollow. The teacher grew to like him, 
and yet, returning often, he became a nuisance. Volun- 
teers readily came forward, offering to capture or kill 
him b}'^ snare or sling, or the hundred and one ways 
suggesting themselves to eager and active boys. Such 
schemes were vetoed in turn. We bore the additional 
racket, and when it finally ceased Swamp College even 
grew melancholy. 
I once watched a hairy woodpecker drumming on a 
post to which a wire clothesline was attached. The 
vibrations, running along the line, made this the most 
pleasing performance I ever heard made by a wood- 
pecker. I was told he returned (from a cedar swamp, 
evidently his home, and a quarter of a mile away) three 
or four times daily for more than a week, thus proving 
himself a good judge of stringed instruments. 
The most interesting tattoo I know of remains to be 
told. A rather new frame house near Plover Mills some 
five years ago was occupied by its owner, a young 
bachelor — -that is, occupied at meal times and some even- 
ings — it was, in short, his domicile. One morning he 
V'as awakened by a rat, tat, tap, at the front door. On 
his opening the door to receive company, his visitor, 
after one good look, immediately took to the woods. 
The bachelor examines the door and the sequel rapidly 
develops. The demand for vengeance — the loaded shot- 
gun — patient hiding — furtive peeps around corners — re- 
turn of visitor — renewal of tattoo — unerring aim — loud 
report — and a male yellow-bellied sapsucker lies dead 
in the very heyday of his ambitious hopes. 
A little later I was given a chance to examine the 
handiwork of my friends, the birds, and truly I had 
not a word to throw at a dog. A circle two or three 
inches in width around the door knob was battered and 
dinted to the depth of an inch or more. This loosened 
the screws which held the door plate, and no doubt the 
woodpecker at each rally raised considerable of a jingle. 
Yes, and he had drummed up a mate, too, and she, to 
show her appreciation of the musical abilities of the 
master, had made a nest in the adjoining casing of the 
door. This was the easier done, for by simply cutting 
through an inch of pine a cavity was reached that had 
for bottom the door sill, four feet below. It was clearly 
the intention of the birds to have nested there, but, as 
I have shown, love's young dream was suddenly ended, 
and an incipient race of door-rapping woodpeckers was 
thus prevented from disturbing the peace and quietness 
of our rural homes. 
In conclusion, let me add that I shall be deeply grat- 
ified should anything written herein lead other observers 
to take increased interest in the many curious happenings, 
as yet unchronicled in the annals of the woodpecker 
world. Robert Elliott. 
$ . . * 
If Take inventory of the good things in this issue 
of Forest and Stream. Recall what a fund was 
*" given last week. Count on what is to come next ^ 
week. Was there ever in all the world a more jj 
abundant weekly store of sportsmen's readingf |j» 
The Geo. A. Boardman Natural 
History Collection. 
Editor forest mid Stream: 
Hencefortli the unique and valuable museum collection 
of the late George A. Boardman, who passed away so 
recently at his quiet home in Calais, Me., will be located 
and housed at Fredericton, N. B., in one of the best Gov- 
ernment buildings, where it will occupy a conspicuous 
place and receive the care and attention which it de- 
serves. The Hon. Wm. Todd, a member of the Provincial 
Government, who is a nephew of Mr. Boardman, has 
charge of the removal and installation of the collection. 
Indeed, he was about to .ship it when Mr. Boardman was 
taken ill, but considerately postponed doing so, and con- 
sequently the ingathering of this eminent naturalist re- 
mained with him to the last, much to his heart's comfort 
and content, for the momentary parting with it at such 
a juncture would have been like speaking a final farewell 
to his dearest and most intimate companions and friends. 
What a happy relief it must have been to his mind to 
have this collection so opportunely and desirably d sposed 
of. Not less will his New Brunswick friends delight to 
do him honor. My own choice would have selected 
Fredericton next to Calais as his beneficiary. And 
Canadians are warm hearted, honest, faithful and unpre- 
tentious people, as I have always found them. Almost 
every week I receive epistolary testimony from sonie of 
them to this effect. 
Perhaps it is better that Calais did not receive tlTe ^t. 
Years ago Mr. Boardman gave me his confidence, to a 
certain extent, as to the want of appreciation of his home' 
people ("a prophet is not without honor except in his 
own country"), the municipality declining his repea ed 
overtures, first, on the plea that the city had no suitable 
building for the collection, and afterward declining to 
erect one. And it serves the corporation right ;o be left 
out, though the body of the town's people will sympathize 
with us all in the regret that the home site and the center 
of his life work could not have been selected and appro- 
priated for this di!;tingui.shed monument of bis labors. 
It is a grand donation! It represents so much, not only 
of the local fauna of that interesting region, but so much 
persevering study, devotion and effort of pursuit. 
I have not been able to obtain a classified memorandum 
of the G. A. Boardman collection, but I have been told 
by the proprietor that there w^re more than 3,000 birds 
and perhaps half that number of mammals and miscel- 
laneous subjects, including many marine curiosities. The 
world of science cannot well spare such contributors as 
George A. Boardman and George N. Lawrence; both of 
them gone within a decade. Charles Hallock. 
— ^ — 
Proprieton of ihooting resorta will find it profitable to advertiw 
them in FoftUT axd Stbeah. 
Notice. 
All communications intended for Forest and Strbau should 
always be addressed to tire Forest and Stream Publishing; Co., and 
not to any individual co'mected with the paper. 
A Goosing Episode. 
We were tied out on one of the southerly points of 
Thoroughfare Island. The weather was mild, and a 
gentle breeze blew from the northwest. From the duck 
shooter's point of view the only good thing about the 
day was that it was cloudy and overcast. 
The duck shooting had been poor for a number of 
days and promised to continue so until there should be 
a change of weather, with a storm, high winds and lower 
temperature. Still, I had gone up to Thoroughfare on 
the chance of getting a few odd shots during the day — 
though nothing like a steadj' flight was expected. 
In the big Sound to the westward, and in Peter's 
Quarter Bay to the east, thousands of geese were resting 
or feeding, and from time to time small flocks flew from 
one of these bodies of water to the other, but usually 
far too high for a gun to reach them. Nevertheless, be- 
sides my stand of wooden duck decoys I had taken two live 
goose decoys and had put them out with a half dozen 
wooden goose decoys, and from some small bunches of 
geese that had flowni over a little lower than the others 
I had succeeded in killing two or three birds. 
About the middle of the morning, a thin broken line 
was seen far off to the eastward, which as we watched 
it gradually developed into a bunch of six or eight 
geese, headed for us and not more than one or two 
gunshots high. As they approached, Charley hOnked in 
good style and they at once noticed his cry, replying 
and seeming a little to lower their flight. As they drew 
nearer, the live decoys saw them and commenced to call 
in good style, the old gander honking in trumpet 
tones, while the goose clucked constantly and enticingly. 
On came the wild birds, lowering their flight, stretching 
out their necks, and as they drew nearer seeming eagerly 
to scrutinize the decoj^s below. The wind had increased 
a little, and before the birds reached us they payed off to 
leeward and passed outside of the decoys, a long gunshot 
off. 
"Don't shoot, don't shoot," said Charley; "they are 
going to swing." 
The decoys kept up their calling; Honk! Ah honk, froni 
the gander; Nuka! Nuka! Nuka! from the goose, and 
vociferous responses came from the wild birds. Sure 
enough, after they had gotten well past the decoys they 
swung up into the wind at a slightly greater elevation, and 
then turned and came back again, now over the marsh, 
a little to the windward of the blind. Of course I did 
not dare turn my head to watch them, but with all my 
ears I listened to their melodious cries which drew nearer 
and nearer. Again Charley called to me, saying, "Let 
'em go by. They'll swing over the decoys this time." 
Presently out of the corner of my left eye I discovered 
the head of the flock well down below the decoys, and 
saw them turn and come again with lowered flight, and 
crooking necks and legs almost beginning to drop toward 
the water. Truth to tell, I was so much interested in 
the way the birds acted that I hardly thought much 
about shooting at them, but felt a great desire to see 
how near they could be brought by the talk ol the decoys, 
oil which their attention was fixed. As they turned to 
come up again, headed straight over the decoys, a strong 
blast of the freshening wind caught them, and again they 
payed off to leeward and passed outside of the decoys. 
At that moment I heard in the air behind me a start- 
ling rushing sound of some heavy falling body, and be- 
fore I could turn my head there swept over the blind — 
within five feet of me^ — and splashed into the water 
immediately in front of the blind and between it and the 
decoys a tremendous old gander. He had separated 
himself from the flock, and had as it seemed dropped 
from heaven to investigate the live decoys, toward which 
with head erect he now .swam swiftly. Of course, I could 
have blown his head off at any moment, but that would 
have been to end the spectacle, and for this I was not 
ready. 
The flying geese had swung up to windward and again 
turned, and now were coming back again, low over the 
Avater. T should have been willing to spend the day 
watching this performance, without firing a shot; but the 
show was almost ended. The great gander on the water 
swam rapidly toward the decoys and apparently fright- 
ened them. They sprang from their stools with flapping 
wings, and the gander, thinking that they were rising 
in the air, himself took wing and flew d.wa.y. My atten- 
tion was concentrated on the approaching flock, which, 
warned by the gander's flight, turned before it again came 
within shot, and flew off. 
So at these .geese my gun was not discharged, but in- 
deed I would rather have witnessed this sight and en- 
joyed the excitement which was a part of it than to 
have killed maily geese. For when a goose is dead 
that is the end of him; but the memoiT of this flock — 
now approaching and again retreating, the sound of the 
fall of the great gander's body through the air and the 
splash with which he struck the water, and the sight of 
his graceful form and proud and alert head and neck 
almost within reach of my arm— this memory will re- 
main with me for many years. G, 
Adirondack Guides' Association. 
Saranac Lake, N. Y., Jan. 2.3. — What was unquestion- 
ably the most representative and enthusiastic gathering of 
Adirondack woodsmen that ever took place was the eighth 
annual meeting and banquet of the Adirondack Guides' 
Association last evening. The large town hall was very 
nearly filled with guides, woodsmen and residents with 
their wives, and in addition a large number of city 
visitors, sportsmen and health seekers, who are winter- 
ing at the Adirondack metropolis. Upon the platform 
were a number of prominent northern New York lawyers, 
as well as ministers, editors, doctors, business men and 
guides. . 
E. E. Sumner, president" of the Association, introduced 
Dr. Frank E. Kendall, the honorary president and one 
of the trustees of the new New York State Hospital for 
Tuberculosis, about to be erected in the Adirondacks, who 
came up from Albany yesterday to attend this meeting. 
Dr. Kendall made an interesting address, which was 
listened to attentively and loudly applauded. He said 
in part : "In early days, as we speak now. the Adiron- 
dacks were visited by a, class of people who loved the 
woods, who came here on pleasure bent, solely to hunt 
and fish. One of the first arrangements to be made was to 
find an able-bodied man, who knew the waterways and 
was well acquainted with the trails through the forest. A 
man who could make out a bill of supplies, cook and wash, 
set up open camp and take care of one for two or three 
months, winter or summer; a man fearless, but discreet, 
with a steady hand and a stout heart, whose very presence 
gave one an unexplainable confidence that all would be well. 
Such a man was then and is now known as a guide. The 
sportsmen learned to admire and trust these men, because 
they lived with and depended upon them, and in many 
instances the same guides were employed by the same 
parties for years. At that time our shores were dotted 
with tents and bark cabins ; hotels were hard to find. As 
the old tally ho over the long and rough plank road was 
succeeded by the passenger car, our visitors steadily in- 
creased. With the sportsmen came the invalid. Different 
accommodations were necessary. As a consequence the 
hotels increased in numbers, the old camp sites were for- 
saken, until now the most modern hotels are 011 every 
shore. With the increased facilities for entertainment, 
but few went into open camp, while many sought the 
hotels. To row from one hotel to another in the day time all 
that was needed was a boat. As a result, a man with a boat, 
even though he did not know north from south, and could 
not find a hotel if there was a fog, established himself at 
one of the hotels and announced himself as a guide. This 
apology for a guide soon became numerous, and to an 
extent was encouraged by a few hotel men. To protect 
the sportsmen and the public traveling by water from such 
a useless and dangerous impostor, the Guides' Associa- 
tion was formed and organized in 1891 and incorporated 
in 1897. As a result of the patience and perseverance of 
its members, backed up with support and encouragement 
of its associate members, the organization now numbers in 
total 238, and is in a good, healthy condition. 
"Individually the men making up the organization are 
to be commended for their woodcraft and physical ability, 
and particularly noticeable is their high sense of honor. 
Ladies have no hesitancy about coming into our country 
and going into open camp for weeks and months. Men 
have often placed their families in the hands of the guides 
for safe keeping and returned to their place of business. 
Never in the history of the Adirondacks have their con- 
fidence and trust been betrayed — a wonderful thing, not 
known of any other class of men. 
"I feel distinguished and proud to be one of your num- 
ber. To me this one quality is to be boa.sted of and char- 
acterizes you as strong minded men. From the Associa- 
tion as a body a wholesome influence for good is mani- 
fest indirectly if not directly. Whenever a body of men 
band themselves together with a desire to do themselves 
good and to benefit others, the community at large soon 
sees the result of their work. Commercially you have 
materially benefited the tradesman and hotel keeper. 
Many of our campers and annual visitors first learned of 
