FOREST AKB STI^EAM. 
glimpse of the foothills beyond the rocky walls, and then 
to our left rises the high bare peaks of Crow's Nest Moun- 
tain, for which the pass is named. Now our train rolls 
through grass covered foothills and detached masses of 
rocks, and just before getting out from the rocks it 
pauses a moment for us to view another freak of nature. 
Here out of a cave in the face of the massive rock of the 
mountain side gushes a living spring of great volume, 
that fails in a smail waterfall on to the rocks below, 
and forming a dashing stream, goes dancing merrily 
down the mountain side. This spring is the main source 
of the Old Man River. 
It would hardly be fitting to omit saying a few words 
in regard to the great coal industry which the building 
of this branch of the C. P. Ry- has opened up in the 
mountains we have just traveled through. The Leth- 
bridge coal fields are wonderful in their extent, and the 
quality of coal for steam purposes and for coking it is 
claimed cannot be excelled, if equaled, anywhere in the 
world. Near Fernie, mentioned above, is the center of 
this carboniferous district. We have reached an eleva- 
tion of 4,427 feet in passing from British Columbia into 
Alberta, a very low pass and an easy one in a way. 
The Crow's Nest Mountain, ten miles away from us, 
seems just at hand, with its pillar-Hke peaks, and we look 
back at it as we wind in and out through rocky glens and ■ 
stunted tree covered hills into the plains with deep coulees 
and grassy knolls, following the St Mary's River into the 
plain and crossing a trestle 80 feet liigh. Winding along 
the breaks, marked with old buffalo rails, we glide on to 
the east. Looking back, the sharp and jagged peaks of 
the Rockies stand forth in startling distinctness against 
the evening sky, and the setting sun gilds their " tops, 
clothing them m a halo of gold, as we catch farewell 
glimpses of these mighty monarchs of the ages that haye 
passed. 
Oh, ye mighty kings of earth, 
With jagged peaks and summits high, 
With rough and riven sides, 
That rise so far into the azure sky, 
On thee we gaze with pure delight; 
With thee we fain would linger more, 
To thee we cannot say farwell. 
But whisper gently, "Au revoir." 
The evening shades gather round us as we enter upon 
the great plains and leave the Rockies behind, and dark- 
ness closes the view, but we sit at the window still and 
gaze out upon the fleeting landscape and once more live 
the life of the past, where we first knew the great plains 
of the West. Visions of the herds of buffalo and antelope 
that once were as numerous as the sands on the seashore 
are with us, and the whoop of the red man, now fast go- 
ing the way of all the inhabitants of these boundless 
wastes, is in our ears. No — it is the shriek of the steam 
whistle and the roaring of the train that rouses us from 
our reverie, and instead of the cry of "grub pile" we hear 
"Dinner is now ready in the diner." There may be more 
luxury, more style, and in a way more comfort crossing 
the plains to-day, but as the small boy says, "There am't 
haf the fun." 
The opening of the Crow's Nest Pass route has made 
it possible for the sportsman to reach new fields easily, 
and to-day there is probably no better country for deer 
and antelope. South from Medicine Hat and east there 
are yet great bands of antelope, and in conclusion I will- 
quote from a letter just received from a cowboy frietid 
with whom we spent some days this summer. He says in 
part : , , 
"I received the photos a few days smce, and they are 
all right. Thank you ever so much, I shall always keep 
them as a memento of our pleasant sojourn in the 
Rockies. I hope you enjoyed your trip further West. I 
would have given anything to have had you with the 
camera here a couple of days ago. My partner and a 
neighbor went out on a deer hunt one morning and 
jumped up five deer about three miles from home, and 
they killed the lot. We had them hung up behind the 
cabin. They would have made a fine picture. My part- 
ner is a fine shot and hunter ; he has killed six deer this 
season, and never has been out more than half a day at a 
time. We did not get home early enough to go on an 
antelope hunt this fall, but we saw lots when riding the 
ranges. A couple of 'Breeds' went out two weeks ago 
about 50 miles east of here and got over 20 deer and an- 
telope down in the country I was telling you about. We 
had some bad weather the last part of the month and it 
drove big bands of antelope down from the north. The 
trains killed a lot of them. They hung up along the rail- 
road. The passenger train went through Crane Lake 
with one on the cow catcher the other day." 
From the above we can say there is still some game 
left on the plains. 
The plains have great attractions for me, and I al- 
ways feel a sense of freedom from care— a don't-care- 
ativeness that is indescribable. Let him who does not be- 
lieve this go away to the great West and he will then sing 
with the cowboy and the hunter of the plains : 
Wild and free, wild and free, 
Like the billows of the deep green sea, 
The plains are stretching far and wide, 
As over their boundless space I ride. 
Not a care have I as I urge along 
My half-tamed steed, so true and strong; 
What care we for grief or sorrow— 
We live to-day, with no thought of the morrow. 
For us all day the sun shines bright, 
And when he is gone the moon gives light; 
For us, when the shadows of night draw nigh, 
Our home is the greensward, otir tool the sky. 
Oh, boundless and great are the plains of the West, 
And here with my steed I safely can rest. 
What care we for grief or sorrow — 
We live to-day, with no thought of the morrow. 
Frank F. Frisbie. 
"In winter time, when it's cold," said Bobbie, "I wish 
I was a polar bear with a white robe growin' all oyer 
me; but in summer, when the baseball season's on, bein' 
a g'iraffe 'd suit me." 
"Why a giraffe, Bobbie?" 
"He kin see over the fence," said Bobbie.— Harper s 
Bazaf. _ _ ^ - 
Frank Forester. 
Since my remarks on this subject in your issue of 
March 23, 1901, I have gathered more material which will 
be of interest to admirers of this true sportsman. 
Another oil portrait of Herbert has turned up, and I 
am very much indebted to its proud owner, Mr. R. W. 
Mathews, of St. Paul, Minn., for the little history con- 
nected with it. Mr. Mathews writes me that it is an 
original life-size portrait and that good judges pro- 
nounce it finely executed. It was presented to Mr. 
Mathews some eighteen years ago by the Hon. C. D. 
O'Brien, the prominent attorney of St. Paul, who in turn 
had received it from the artist himself. The name of this 
artist cannot now be recalled. He went to Minnesota 
on account of poor health and became acquainted with 
Herbert, who taught him how to shoot. Mr. Mathews 
writes that the late Gen. H. H. Sibley, one of the first 
settlers in Minnesota, who knew Herbert well and often 
hunted with him in New Jersey, stated that this portrait 
was an excellent likeness. 
Gen. Sibley, who wrote in early days for Porter's 
Spirit of the Times, under the pseudonym of "Hal a 
Dacotah," used to relate a little story at the expense of 
his friend Herbert. After the General moved to Minne- 
sota he used to meet Herbert often while on his trips 
to Newark, N. J., and tell him about the good shooting 
in his State. Herbert declared that Sibley was mistaken 
in regard to his getting canvasbacks in Minnesota, and 
they had many arguments in regard to it. On one of the 
General's trips to New York he took with him three 
brace of canvasbacks, and on his arrival carried them 
over to Herbert's office, but finding him otit left them on 
his desk. A little later on tliey met at lunch at the As- 
tor House and the first remark Herbert made was, "Now. 
General, after lunch if you will come around to my of- 
fice I will show j'ou some canvasbacks that some one 
has left there for me." probably inferring that Sibley 
was not acquainted with that species of duck. 
Under the portrait of Herbert, Mr. Mathews has 
framed an autograph letter presented to him by his 
friend, Chas. Hallock, and of which he has kindly made 
for me the following copy: 
"New York, April 4, 1841. 
"Dear Sir: Though long delayed, I write at length to 
redeem my promise by sending you a little piece of 
poetry for the Nation. How the sentiments may agree 
with yours, I hardly know, but I suppose poetry is priv- 
ileged. The only request I have to make is that if pub- 
lished it may be without any comment. If not, that you 
will return me the MS. at your earliest convenience. 
I have transcribed it carefully, and do not imagine that 
there will be any difficulty about the printers decipher- 
ing it. May I, however, beg you to be very careful about 
the connecting of the punctuation, as the whole point of 
the lines depends upon their ruiming and reading fluently. 
I remain faithfully vours. 
"Henry Wm. Herbert, 
"65 Murray Street. 
"Geo. Robert.?, Esq., Boston." 
Mr. Chas Hallock has recently sent for my inspection 
a photograph, cabinet size, representing Herbert in shoot- 
ing costume on the woodcock grounds at Warwick, N, 
Y. It is an extremely odd though very interesting pic- 
ture. It was presented to him forty-one years ago by the 
late Genio C. Scott, the famous angler. Mr. Fred E. 
Pond informs me that this photograph is a copy from a 
painting. If it is still in existence perhaps some of your 
readers may locate it for us. Ruthven Deane. 
Chicago. 
Intelligence of the Wild Things. 
BY HERMIT. 
The Red Sqoif tel. 
[Continued from page 604.] 
The red squirrel, or chickaree, leads all the wild things 
in the woodlands of Cape Ann for intelligence and the 
ability to maintain an existence under adverse circum- 
stances. 
His life during the spring and summer months is a 
grand hurrah, but in the fall he sobers down and plods 
and toils in his harvest fields like a thrifty farmer. 
Right or wrong, it is a fact that the red squirrel bears 
a disreputable character. He is called a thief because he 
takes the farmers' corn, and a bloodthirsty wretch for 
robbing birds' nests. From my experience with the 
chickaree I am led to believe that he is not so black as 
painted. I used to think that he spared neither eggs nor 
young, but savagely robbed every bird's nest which he 
chanced to find. I certainly got this idea from books, for 
I cannot recall an instance where a bird's nest was robbed 
by a red squirrel. For years I thought a squirrel was 
seeking food when he chased the birds in my dooryard. 
Now my eyes are open, and I am heartily ashamed of 
myself. I awoke from my trance to find that the red 
squirrel was simply chasing the birds out of the door- 
yard and away from the food, which he claimed as his 
own. 
Twice last summer I saw a red squirrel pounce ori a 
young towhee bunting, but both times he let the bird 
go without the loss of a feather. It was evident that he 
did not intend to injure the bird, but merely desired to 
frighten it away. The intention was so evident that I 
could not ignore it, and it led me to do a lot of thinkirig. 
I carefully examined my notes for proof of the squir- 
rel's guilt, and found no record against him. The guilty 
ones were the hawk, the owl, the snake, the stoat, the 
crow, the cat, the irrepressible boy and the white footed 
mouse. For fifteen years birds have nested around my 
cabin unmolested by the red squirrel. 
It was always a mystery to me why the birds were not 
afraid of the red squirrel. Let a hawk, an owl, a weazel, 
a cat, a snake or any of the animals known to_ prey on 
birds, enter rny dooryard while birds were rearing their 
young, and the wildest alarm would prevail so long as the 
intruder was in sight. The red squirrel can come and go 
without a protest, which proves that the birds do not re- 
gard him as an enemy, ' 
Whenever I have detected a squirrel investigating a 
bird's nest it has turned out that curiosity was the 
motive, 
A pair of chickadees nested in a box that I had placed 
in an oak tree, and a squirrel that spent the most of his 
time in the dooryard made it a duty to investigate the 
nest several times a day. He did not harm the young 
birds, and the old birds did not fear him. 
while I was watching a red eyed viero's nest last sea- 
son, I saw a red squirrel run out to the nest, stretch his 
full length on the limb (it was a very warm day) and 
look down on to the young birds, that were squirming 
about in their confined quarters. I counted ninety-six 
before he left, and I did not begin at first. I think he 
was on the limb fully two mmutes. These yoiing vireos 
were not molested, for I saw them leave the nest when 
full fledged. 
I have a record of an oven bird that nested at the foot 
of a pine tree which contained a red sqtnrrel's nest. Four 
young squirrels were reared in a leafy nest in the top of 
the pine, and three young oven birds in a domed nest on 
the ground. 
My experience with the red squirrel has caused me to 
change my mind, and hereafter I shall hold him innocent 
tintil he is proved guilty. 
The red squirrel in this locality is about seven and a 
half inches in length, measuring from the nose to the 
base of the tail. The tail is about six and a half inches 
in length, and is carried in a number of ways to suit the 
convenience of its owner. As to color, it seems as if there 
are two species, but it is only the difference between the 
young and the very old. Young squirrels are bright red 
on the back and sides, with the under parts usually a pure 
white. Old squirrels are red along the back bone, gray on 
the sides and a dirty white below. Some specimens are 
shot that are nearly all gray. Gunners claim that such 
squirrels are a cross between the red and the gray, but 
they are simply old red squirrels. 
Dame Nature has been unusually kind to the red squir- 
rel. She has provided him with powerful weapons of of- 
fense and defense. She has set in his muscular jaws long 
cruel teeth, which are whet to a keen edge on the hard 
shelled nuts. She has conferred upon him claws sharp as 
needles, and a" muscular system which seemingly is con- 
trolled by an electric current. There is a wicked wild fire 
in his bright eye that stamps him the bravest wild thing 
of the forest. He will fight to the death. He whips his 
great cousin, the gray squirrel, without effort, and is a 
match for the large stoat. 
When pursued by a dog he makes a dash for the nearest 
tree, which he mounts, calling out "chickaree" as soon as 
he is out of danger. He does not, like the gray squirrel, 
seek a hiding place in the top of the tree. No, he is far 
too bold to hide from a dog. He stops on a low limb, 
just out of reach, and fairly boils over with rage and 
fury. He barks, spits and sputters; he makes furious 
rushes as if he intended to come right down the tree 
and "whip that dog." He violently jerks his tail and 
pounds the limb with his hind feet, a picture of impu- 
dent, fiery energy. 
Every movement of this little squirrel is accomplished 
without apparent muscular energy. He seems to float 
up a tree. If you are near enough you may hear the 
pricking of his claws on the bark, but you cannot de- 
tect a muscular effort. He flashes along the limbs in some 
mysterious way, never stopping, like the gray squirrel, to 
measure distances before a leap. If he misses and falls, 
he usually catches by a claw to some twig, thus saving 
himself. If he falls to the ground, it does not harm or 
disconcert him. He is up the tree in a jiffy, spitefully 
saying things that sound t© the listener very much like 
swearing. 
From the middle of April to the first of September the 
male squirrel leads a jolly, rollicking life. He is as rest- 
less and noisy as a schoolboy and as full of fun. He will 
hang head down, holding on by his liind claws, just for 
the fun of the thing. In the tree tops he is king. He 
rules the bluejays and crows, and races them out of the 
pine trees whenever he feels disposed. He hazes the gray 
squirrel, but does not unsex him as alleged. This silly 
tale is on a par with snakes' stingers and hoop snakes. 
Any one that has had the opportunity to observe squir- 
rels the year round, knows that chipmunks, red squirrels 
and gray squirrels show the same appearance of being 
tmsexed, except in the molting season. 
The gray is no match for the red in a tree top in a trial 
of speed. He usually keeps to the ground, where his long 
leaps give him the advantage over his firy little foe. 
Many a sprinting match of this kind takes place in my 
dooryard. If a red surprises a gray squirrel stealing 
food, he soimds his war cry, and in a mad rush is on to 
the gray before he can make off with the bit of food wliich 
he has appropriated. The gray, finding that he is hard 
pressed, runs around the cabin with the red hot at his 
heels. Rotmd and round they go, the gray silent, the 
red yelling like a little demon. When the gray has had 
several narrow escapes he drops the food and retreats 
unmolested. The red picks up the food and takes it to a 
favorite limb where he devours it, talking to himself, 
meanwhile, about "that gray thief." 
In all my years of observation, once only have I known 
a gray squirrel to fight a red. I think it was hunger and 
desperation that induces the gray to fight. The gray 
was an old male, certainly three times as large as the red. 
The latter was an old male and had held the dooryard 
for several years against all comers. He was a sagacious, 
grizzled old warrior, and I named him Bismarck. The 
fight took place in my dooryard. It was a bloody battle 
for bread on a cold, drizzly day in mid-winter. The gray 
was whipped inside of three minutes. The snow was 
crimsoned with his blood, and when he fled he left a 
bloody trail behind. At no time was there a ghost of a 
chance for him to win. The muscular energy of the red 
was astounding. His movements were too quick for the 
eye. While the fight lasted all I could see was a bound- 
ing mass of red and gray. The red squirrel did not ap- 
pear to be severely wounded,_any way he remained out in 
the cold and rain to lick his wounds. Perhaps it was 
squirrel surgery to prefer the cold to a warm nest. 
From my observations I find that the reds seldom chase 
the grays, unless the latter enter territory which the reds 
claim the right to hold and protects 
