464 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
tJuNE 15, 1901. 
of some bit of ancient architecture — a monastery, a 
cathedral, a battlemented tower, something to complete 
the im.pression of old-world mystery and romance which 
seem to belong hy right to magical Shadow River. 
Kitchener's Memorandum of Expenses, Treasured ty the 
Sick Thing as a Memento. 
FOOD SUPPLIES (four MEN FOR ONE MONTH). 
40Ibs. shanty biscuit. 201bs. smoked bacon, olbs. clear pork. 
lOlbs. small white beans. SOlbs. granulated sugar. 31bs. ^Edwards' 
desiccated soup. 31bs. black tea. 71bs. oatmeal. 71bs. cornmeal. 
61bs. Carolina rice. 61bs. sago. 81bs- evaporated apples. A few 
cloves. 51bs. dried apricots. 61bs. cooking raisins.^ -^41^. white 
pepper (in a bottle). 2oz. India curry powder (in a bottle), 
31bs. table salt. 51bs. flour (for thickening). 21bs. maccaroni 
(broken into short bits). 51bs. Canadian fall cheese. 5 cakes 
Ivory soap. 1 cake Sapolio. lib. 12s paraffin candles. 31bs. 
sweet stick chocolate. Matches in a tin box. 
Cost of above, $21.60. 
All in separate drill bags made to fit. Tea, soup and salt to be 
covered in addition with oilcloth. All bags to have tie strings 
at mouth. 
Five dunnage bags, water proof, 24 X 36in., with flap at top and 
rope through the grommets to tie — ?10. 
Five leather tumplines 7ft. long, with head bands, Z% X 12m. — 
$3.75. 
Three waterproof sheets — $3. 
Frying pan with folding handle. 3 tin pails, the largest 9in. 
in diameter by 9in. in height, all to fit into each other, and all 
with covers. 4 tin cups. 6 tin plates, l%in; deep by 7in. in 
diameter. 1 tin spoon 9in. long, 4 tablespoons and forks. Candle 
lantern. Light axe with cover — $3.90. 
Carbolated and plain petrolatum. Pond's extract. Purgative. 
Carminative. 2 rolls surgical bandages. Quinine pills — $1.50. 
(Combination tool holder containin screw driver, file and awl. 
Small pincers. Copper \wire. Some lin. riveting nails. Strip 
of tin Bin. wide by lOin. long. lib. white lead and putty mixed, 
two parts of former to one latter. Myd. stout canvas. Some 
%in. wood screws. Some 2in. wire nails. Oil stone. These are 
for mending possible leaks in canoes — $1.75. 
Rent of two William English canoes for one month— $10. 
Rent of 7 X 7ft. tent with 3ft. wall, one month— $4. 
Total cost to each man — less than $15. 
All food supplies obtained from Michie, a dealer at No. 5 
King street west, Toronto. He can direct strangers where to 
get canoes, tent and dunnage bags. _ Bags are carried by railroad 
as baggage. Expressage on canoes is not expensive. 
PERSONAL EQUIPMENT FOR EACH MAN. 
Khaki suit. Extra trousers. 2 flannel shirts. Sweater. Belt. 
Suit heavy underclothes for night wear. 2 pairs heavy wool socks. 
Hockey boots with rubber heels. Tennis shoes. 3 large bandanna 
handkerchiefs. 3 white handkerchiefs. Slouch hat. Tuque for 
sleeping. Seaman's long oilskin coat. Tooth brush. Hair 
brush. Comb. Shaving tackle. Sewing outfit. Bath towel. 
Pair heavy blankets (two pairs sewed together form sleepmg bag 
for two men). Clasp knife with ring and lanyard. Compass. 
Match safe. . . , ,. • . ^ 
Total weight of entire equipment, mcludmg everything but 
canoes, about 3001bs. 
William Edward Aitken. 
— 4 — 
Breeding the Wild Pigeon* 
Boston, June 5. — Editor Forest and Stream: Inclosed 
I send you a letter from Prof. C. O. Whitman, of the 
Department of Biology of the University of Chicago, 
upon his experiments in breeding and rearing of the pas- 
senger pigeon in captivity. The interest of the readers 
of Forest and Stream in the almost accomplished ex- 
termination of this beautiful and once so abundant species 
is evident by the frequent communications which have 
appeared in your columns. 
Prof. Whitman's most interesting letter was, as will be 
seen, written without any idea of publication, but gives 
the news— delightful to me, as I think it will be to many 
readers — of the easy domestication of the species and the 
'way open for its preservation, at least for purposes of 
study, and possibly eventually for restocking territory 
favorable to the experiment. 
Readers of the paper will remember the brave efforts of 
Mr. J. B. Battelle, of Toledo, to domesticate the ruffed 
grouse and induce it to breed in captivity — an experiment 
which I hope he has not entirely given over. 
Prof. Whitman's report that the passenger pigeon will 
breed all right in confinement is most encouraging, and 
his statement, "If I could get one new bird I^ would 
soon have a flock of fifty," will, I hope, stimulate readers 
of Forest and Stream who are so situated as to make 
it possible to furnish Prof. Whitman not only one but a 
number of specimens in the interest of his remarkable 
experiment. . , . , 
It is part of a series of great interest te biologists and 
naturalists generallj^ which he is conducting at his 
biological laboratory at Wood's Holl, Mass.. where he is 
hoping to create a natural history farm. As a first in- 
.stallment. he has now under cultivation a columbarium 
and a collection of pigeons, already the largest of the 
kind in existence, and rapidly increasing by accessions 
from all parts of the world. 
This has been undertaken with several ends m view, as 
he states in a communication to Science (N. S., Vol. 
XIII., No. 327. pages 538 to 540, April 5. 1901). He 
most interestingly says: 
"The pigeon group, containing between 400 and 500 
wild species, and not'less than 150 domestic species or 
varieties, offers one of the most favorable fields for the 
comparative study of variation, and for experimentation 
in dealing with the problems of heredity and evolution. ' 
Readers interested in the subject are referred to the 
Science article for a brief but most interesting exposi- 
tion of the scientific uses to which such a natural history 
farm can be devoted. If, as seems to be the case, the 
passenger pigeon is still known to exist in small num- 
bers, and to breed in the central parts of New York, and 
perhaps in some portions of Missouri, Michigan and Wis- 
consin, I am hopeful that the appearance of this letter 
will not be too late to stimulate bird lovers and naturalists 
to make captures of the bird, and to communicate at once 
with Prof. Whitman at the University of Chicago. 
' C. H. Ames. 
February and laid many eggs before June i, but all failed 
to give young, although many developed to, or near to, the 
point of hatching. 
This year I separated males and females until April i, 
then got three pairs to work. One young was hatched 
and did well. When two weeks old it fell down from 
its nest and was injured and died. I have three pairs 
sitting now, each pair in a separate pen. They are now 
quite well tamed, and are faithful in incubation. 
They are very hardy, living outside all winter in my 
back yard in pens that are protected from wind. They 
are apparently proof against diseases that carry off many 
of the other wild species. They are my special pets, and 
I have tried in many ways to obtain one or more new 
birds, so as to strengthen the reproductive power, which 
seems to weaken as the result of long inbreeding. I am 
afraid it is almost hopeless, for only a few scattered 
pairs seem to be left in the country, and no one is likely 
to succeed in capturing a bird alive. I have not, of 
course, abandoned the effort, and have some parties on 
the lookout. 
They will breed all right in confinement. If I could get 
one new bird, I could soon have a flock of fifty. They 
lay only a single egg at a time, but hatch in twelve and a 
half days, and lay again by the time the young is two 
weeks old. I have crossed them with the little -ring dove, 
and have some fine hybrids, all of which are sterile. I am 
studying wild species in general, and am testing various 
crosses. I have obtained some fertile hybrids, and a few 
are reproducing, so that I expect to get some interesting 
results in this line. 
I am studying the modes of life, voices, color patterns, 
origin of specific characters, the embryology — in short, the 
whole natural history, distributing problems among my 
students when I can do so in their interest. I have as 
yet published no report of work, but may get to that point 
soon. Very truly, C. O. Whitman. 
[What Prof. Whitman has done is certainly of the very 
greatest interest, and it is much to be desired that he 
should receive specimens to renew his breeding stock. It 
is possible that Mr. J. B. Battelle, of Toledo, may be 
able to help him to do that, since fourteen or fifteen 
j^ears ago that gentleman wrote to Forest and Stream 
telling of Ben Frost, who lived near Toledo, and across 
the Michigan line, who at that time bred wild pigeons. 
This was in January, 1887. Still furtlier back, in Vol. 
XII. of Forest and Stream, May 8, ^879, an account was 
published by Mr. Frank J. Thompson, so long in charge 
of the Cincinnati Zoological Gardens, of wild pigeons 
breeding in confinement under his charge there. Later, if 
we recollect aright, Mr. Thompson published in Forest 
and Stream a more extended account of the breeding of 
these birds in confinement. 
It is certainly much to be desired that Prof. Whitman 
should secure the birds needed for continuing his experi- 
ments. From all points of view the matter is one of very 
great interest.] 
University of Chicago, May 20.— Dear Mr. Ames : I 
am alwavs glad to find a friend of the passenger pigeon. 
I have at present thirteen. A Mr. Whittaker, of Milwau- 
kee, obtained a pair from the Indians about twenty years 
ago' He kept them and raised a flock of fifteen. I had 
about half his flock, and increased this number, although 
not rapidly. During 1899 and 1900 I failed to get a 
single egg hatched. The birds began mating early in 
Experience with Wild Animals. 
Albany, N. Y., May 31. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
If the discussion of "Experience with Wild Animals" 
which has taken place from time to time in the columns of 
Forest and Stream has not been officially closed, I shall 
be pleased to add an item, which I recently happened 
upon, relating to the subject. While the facts quoted are 
not from my own experience, and perhaps may be con- 
sidered hardly up to date, still they seem to prove that in 
the old flintlock days, if not in the age of repeaters, there 
were occasionally some dangerous wild animals. Al- 
though the following case was an exceptional one even at 
that time, it is perhaps of sufficient interest to bear 
present repetition. Ross Cox, the narrator of the inci- 
dent, was one of the Astorians who sailed from New York 
on the Beaver in 1811, and remained on the Columbia 
River until April, 1817, when he made the overland 
journey to Montreal. I quote from his "Adventures on 
the Columbia River," p. 213. Commenting on bears, the 
author says: "From the scarcity of food in the spring 
months, they are then more savage than at any other sea- 
son, and during that period it is a highly dangerous ex- 
periment to approach them. 
"The following anecdote will prove this, and were not 
the fact confirmed by the concurrent testimony of ten 
more, I would not have given it a place among my memo- 
rabilia : 
"In the spring of this year (1816) Mr. McMillan had 
dispatched ten Canadians in a canoe down the Flathead 
River on a trading excursion. The third .evening after 
quitting the fort, while they were quietly sitting around a 
blazing fi're eating a hearty dinner of deer, a large, half- 
famished bear cautiousliy approached the group from be- 
hind an adjacent tree, and before they were aware of his 
presence, he sprang across the fire, seized one of the men 
(who had a well-furnished bone in his hand) round his 
waist with the two fore paws, and ran about fifty yards 
with him on his hind legs [sic] before he stopped. His 
comrades were so thunderstruck at the unexpected ap- 
pearance of such a visitor and his sudden retreat with 
pauvre Louisson that they for some time lost all presence 
of mind, and in a state of fear and confusion were running 
to and fro, each expecting in his turn to be kidnapped in 
a similar manner, when at length Baptiste LeBlanc, a half- 
breed hunter, seized his gun, and was in the act of firing 
at the bear, but was stopped by some of the others, who 
told him he would inevitably kill their friend in the posi- 
tion in which he was then placed. During this parley 
Bruin relaxed his grip of the captive, whorn he kept 
securely under him, and very leisurely began picking the 
l3one which the latter had dropped. Once or twice Louis- 
son attempted to escape, which only caused the bear to 
watch him more closely; but on his making another at- 
tempt he again seized Louisson around the waist and 
commenced giving him. one of those infernal embraces 
which generally end in death. The poor fellow was now 
in great agony, and vented the most frightful screams, 
and observing Baptiste with his gun ready, anxiously 
watching a safe opportunity to fire, he cried out, *'Tire! 
Tire! mon cher frere, si tu m'aimes. Tire pour I'amoiw 
du bon Dieu! A la tetel A la teteH' This was enough 
*Shootl shootl my dear brother, if you love me! Shoot, for the 
love of God! At his headl At his head I 
for LeBlanc, who instantly let fly, and hit the bear over 
the right temple. He fell and at the same moment dropped 
Louisson, but he gave him an ugly scratch with his claw 
across the face, which for some time afterward spoiled his 
beauty. After the shot LeBlanc darted to his comrade's 
assistance, and with his conteau de chasse quickly finished 
the sufferings of the man stealer, and rescued his friend 
from impending death, for with the exception of the 
above-mentioned scratch, he escaped uninjured. They 
commenced the work of dissection with right good will, 
but on skinning the bear they found scarcely any meat on 
his bones — in 4act, the animal had been famished, and in 
a fit of hungry desperation made one of the boldest at- 
tempts at kidnapping ever heard of in the legends of ursine 
courage." Chauncey P. Williams. 
Wild Pigeons and Rice Birds. 
In a recent article on "Birds and Their Habits," says 
the Richmond Dispatch, we incidentally alluded to the 
wild pigeons which formerly flocked by thousands to 
Virginia, and ventured the assertion, that this disappear- 
ance in late years is "one of the dozens of mysteries 
which ornithology presents." 
Several of our contemporaries Say that there is no 
mystery at all about the non-appearance of the wild 
pigeons, and unhesitatingly attribute the absence of these 
birds to pot-hunters and sportsmen, who formerly 
slaughtered them in great numbers. 
For our part, we are more than willing for the shot- 
gun to receive its share of odium — the more the better, we 
say, in fact — but we are not prepared to stand corrected 
in this matter. 
The same fallacious reasoning which attempts to ex- 
plain the absence of the pigeons overlooks the annual 
visitations of millions of sora which flock to our marshes 
at certain seasons. These strange little birds are killed 
by the ton with guns, sticks and what not; yet there is 
no apparent diminution in their numbers. Year by year 
and decade by decade they mysteriously appear in certain 
months, and despite the pitiless war waged against them, 
tarry with us until the voice of nature, speaking through 
their instinct, summons them to other climes. Their 
movements and the reasons which prompt their migra- 
tions leave man entirely out of the question. 
So, too, our mottled little friend, the partridge, lingers 
constantly with us. despite the cruel treatment accorded 
him at times by sportsmen. In the summer, when nesting, 
he is almost confidential, and comes quite near our rural 
habitations to whistle the story of his domestic felicity. 
When autumn sears the meadow lands and the forests 
blush — possibly at the rapacity and selfishness of man — 
he grows shy, and the instinct of self-preservation makes 
him cautious. But through all his vicissitudes he is with 
us the year round, and even the hosts of his enemies 
cannot quite exterminate him. 
Now why, we ask, do the partridges and the sora — ^two 
most toothsome birds — still survive when the wild pigeon 
has practically disappeared from our woodlands? The 
arguments which apply to one should apply to the others 
— indeed, the wonder is that poor little Bob White can 
live to whistle a single note when he is so beset by his 
pursuers. . 
f^^ and 
A. Goose Hunt with Twol Hearts. 
The word "goose" has long been synonymous with 
"fool" ; but this, I believe, is a popular error, like that 
which attributes unusual wisdom to the serpent. The 
goose, besides possessing the keenest of hearing, has, in a 
wonderful degree, the ability to profit by experience and 
the faculty of transmitting to others of its kind the 
knowledge gained by experience. 
The geese that wing their migratory journeys between 
the winter quarters on the Gulf and their breeding grounds 
among the lakes of the far North have developed their 
senses to a degree' that is truly wonderful and that 
brings upon them many a curse from baffled , hunters. 
Their flight is across a great open plain, two thousand 
miles in length. In this distance there is scarcely a lake 
where they may alight and be secure upon open water. 
The whole stretch is now fairly well peopled, and nearly 
every farmhouse possesses a shotgun. The rivers afford 
the only resting place in the long journey, and along these 
every conceivable strategem and ambush is employed to 
bring about their destruction. Be they never so weary, or 
be the water never so tempting, no least suspicious sign is 
too small for them to note. 
It is of some experience of their baffling acuteness and 
a successful stratagem of old Two Hearts that I wish to 
tell you. 
I had been spending my vacation at an Indian agency on 
the Missouri River. A dreary enough place it was, too, 
with its single, dusty street and gaunt, cheerless Govern- 
ment buildings — painted all of one dull green and trimmed 
with a duller shade of green — standing in bold relief 
against the great gumbo hills, that rose behind them and 
stretched on beyond the limits of the reservation. My 
memory of those gumbo hills is always colored brown. 
True, they were sometimes green, but only for a few 
weeks in the early spring, before the hot, dry winds swept 
up from the south and blasted the scant herbage that cov- 
ered them. But with all the drawbacks that appeared to 
one who had spent ten years in a beautiful green village 
of the East, the place for me had a charm that out- 
weighed all the charms of other places — for to me it was 
home. There I had spent the first ten years of my life — 
the happy years of childhood — and during the ten years 
that succeeded, all my dreams of sleeping hours and the 
dreams of waking hours, called day dreams, had been of 
those gumbo hills, that rose, gloomy and bare, above the 
great muddy river, and of the people that lived in the little 
log cabins that nestled in the deep ravines and dotted the 
valleys. 
At several of these little cabins I was ever a welcome 
visitor, and I found in them what the vague but tenacious 
memories from childhood had told me of, love — ^not pity— 
