July 2f, igoi.j 
Landing, and being wet and chilly, we gladly boarded the 
tug and went to Midland. While on the tug we got 
thoroughly dry and warm, and the engineer dried our 
cushions. We arrived in Midland in good time, and be- 
fore we were on board the City of Toronto the mist had 
lifted from the lake, the blue was peeping through the 
gray clouds, and we caught an occasional glimpse of the 
sun. We left the steamer at Split Rock Landing, where 
the camp tug was waiting. When on the tug our friends 
all crowded around us, anxious to know what kind of a 
time we had. We could answer truthfully that we had 
a most delightful cruise. Had they known about the 
storm the night before or how wet we had gotten that 
morning they would not have understood how ajiy one 
could enjoy such a trip. That we had been caught in the 
Storm was our mistake, not the fault of the storm. The 
w.etting we did not mind. We knew before we started 
that we would get wet, but we were not taking any 
chances on our lives, and did not even have a cold as 
the result. Besides, we got back to camp in time to 
complete our arrangements and start on another cruise 
Monday morning. 
"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods; 
There is a rapture on the lonely shore; 
There is society, where none intrude, 
By the deep sea, and musie itt its roar." 
A. W. C. 
Whom Shall We Take With Us? 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Two weeks ago an article on the above subject by 
some one whose name escapes me appeared in your col- 
lUTins, and I had looked for prompt attention to it by 
numerous abler pens than mine. I am surprised to 
tind that the only response noted, in the main merely 
assented to it, so to parts of it I reluctantly feel it a duty 
to file a protest. 
I sincerely trust that the article in question belies its 
author, and that he did not realize what cold type de- 
ductions it must bring to the mind of a thinking man. 
I hope that the writer's life is on lines diametrically oppo- 
site to the inferences which otherwise must be drawn 
from his argument, if taken at face value; for, crystal- 
lized, do ihey not stamp the holder as having omitted 
from his category one exceedingly objectionable type 
of a man to associate with? 
Do they not set up as an ideal a man whose way must 
be law in all things? who "won't play" if he cannot have 
his way; who will not allow that his neighbor can know 
anything because he himself can supply all the knowledge 
needed by the community; who is so utterly selfish as 
to others' rights— especially in money matters— as to 
have apparently no conception of the principle "noblesse 
oblige;" who, because the majority have others depending 
on them in some way for whom they must be self-sacri- 
ficing and must therefore keep to some carefully planned 
expense-programme, says in the most cold-blooded man- 
ner, "all such have no right in the world" ? In the name 
of the Almighty Dollar, who gave that man the right to 
arrogate to himself the publication of such a judgment? 
Now, brothers, let me show you a better way. De- 
structive theology is valueless unless it be followed by 
constructive. 
I have been a lover of the rod and the forest from my 
youth up. I have taken trips with and without guides 
and companions; with those who knew more and those 
who knew less than I did: and I can say for a fact that 
the best times that I have ever had in the woods were 
those when, as a luxury which I felt I had earned from 
life, I took with me a well-bred tenderfoot, and saw him 
enjoy it. The times we live for ourselves are joys of 
the moment. They are gone and forgotten. The pleas- 
ures we give to some others are things we remember 
perhaps when the men themselves are dust. Try this, 
plutocrat, for a season! Suspend judgment, at least, until 
you have tried it; for otherwise you are not in the least 
qualified to judge; and, meanwhile, next time that you 
want your own way, which will add materially to the 
expenses of a trip, consider that if that way is so valuable 
to you it is worth paying for — and pay the extra expense 
yourself, instead of letting five or six men each chip in 
a collectively-considerable sum for your special rich 
benefit. 
But I am glad to be able to say that there are also 
others, although their deeds are not heralded. My own 
tenderfeet paid their own expenses; I could af5ord to give 
only some spare experience. But at least one wealthy 
man I wot of, although I know him not by sight, who 
regularly each year invites to his well-appointed camp a 
young fellow who is passionately fond of the life and has 
not the wherewithal otherwise to enjoy it. Just what 
his host gets out of it cannot be measured without know- 
ing the man; but, fortunately, it is a known fact in hu- 
manity that it is absolutely impossible for a man to send 
^ a younger one away after such an outing so radiant with 
liealth and happiness and gratitude and not himself to 
have had his share while bringing that result to pass. 
Scrooge himself could not! 
So I feel assured that verily that man hath his reward. 
Now, brothers, the weather is hot. I haven't had my 
outing j'et — it comes next week. So, perhaps, I too have 
hit out too hard from the shoulder. Hot weather and 
fly-time are not good elements for placidity. Acidity, 
mebbe! So, if I've said what I have to say too strongly 
just remember the weather and — forgive me. But remem- 
ber it in another way, too, I beg of you, and — perhaps 
not every year — sometimes, at least, just "take the tender- 
foot along." Truly, you can have no end of fun — ^and then, 
afterward, you can tell us all about it, and we can have 
some, too. That's partly what our beloved Forest and 
Stream is for. J. P. T. 
Bo'TON, July 20; 
i Take inventory of the good things in this issue 
S of Forest and Stream. Recall what a fund was 
5 given last week. Count on what is to come next jj 
tl week. Was there ever in all the world a more M 
abundant weekly store of sportsmen's reading? ^ 
FOHEST AND STREAM. 
Fighting Brutes J 
. It is really only the man who is somewhat brought 
m contact with animals in a state of nature who knows 
much about their mode of warfare, and how and why 
they fight In the old cattle days cow punchers used 
to delight to bring together bulls from different quarters 
of the range and to watch their ponderous but harmless 
battles. lo the horse wrangler, the fights of range stal- 
lions are more or less an everyday matter. The sheep 
man wonders how his bucks can come together with 
such force and still escape cracked skulls and broken 
necks while the hunter, rarely coming across a pair of 
locked antlers, or more frequently in rutting season see- 
ing two male wild animals fighting, gains an insight 
mto the temper and warfike methods of our wild species 
Ihe general proposition may be laid down that among 
the hoofed animals only the males fight among them- 
selves. Females are selfish, and crowd, and push, and 
strike with heads and horns to clear a path for them- 
selves or their young, or both, but they do not wage 
formal combats. The one attacked commonly makes 
way at once, or if she turns in anger the other promotlv 
retreats. On the other hand, the mother will fight in 
defense of her young. Not always, of course— since no 
doubt there is as much difference in temperament among 
tour-legged mothers as among those who walk erect- 
but -blten. This, however, is but tlie courage of despair 
since all ungulates trust for safety to their legs rather 
than to any weapons of defense with which they may be 
provided. The fawn or calf or colt running with its 
mother, and pursued, sticks as close to her as it possibly 
can. running almost under her belly and obviously de- 
pending on her for safety. 
The protective habit of most of our native ruminants 
by which the mother, for some time after the birth of the 
young, hides it, during a part of the day, saves a vast 
number of these small creatures from the attacks of 
carnivorous animals; and it is only after they have 
reached an age of considerable strength and are able 
to run swiftly, that numbers of them are killed by wolves 
and coyotes. In the old days, when there were buffalo, 
the cow hid her calf, just as the deer and the antelope 
hide theirs to-day, and after the calves had attained some 
size and had begun to eat grass, they usually collected 
m groups by themselves, a little to one side of the herd 
of buffalo to which they belonged. A similar habit i? 
noted with the elk, and old hunters will recall the great 
bunches of calves that were to be seen in late summer, 
in the vicinity of herds of cows, and the extraordinary 
noise of their screaming and bawling. 
The domestic cow and the buffalo cow in defending 
the calf uses the horns. The cow elk, deer or antelope 
strikes with its feet. 
In considering the battles between male ungulates, or 
hoofed animals, we are struck at first by the perfection 
of the weapons with which they are provided. The horn 
of the perfect buffalo is long and sharp, and. propelled 
by its vast power and weight, can shear through any 
living thing. The points of the deer's horns are sharf 
and hard, admirable cutting instruments, while the white 
goat bears poniards on its head and the mountain sheep 
a battering ram. All are weapons of great effectiveness. 
On the other hand it must be remembered that these 
weapons are precisely as effective for defense as they are 
for offense. When two great animals weighing each a 
thousand pounds or more come together head to head, 
the least vulnerable portion of each meets the least 
vulnerable portion of the other, and the battle, however 
fierce it may appear to the human spectators, may be 
absolutely without injury to either contestant. 
When domestic bulls fight, they struggle and strain 
and push, and while the horns of either may bruise the 
forehead of the other and enough blood may be shed 
from the disturbed epidermis to stain the white horns of 
either, no harm is likely to be done so long as the pusli 
is direct. As he attacks his enemy the bull defends him- 
self with his head, and so in practice do all our horned 
animals. When, however, one of the combatants is the 
weaker and is thrust back, the stronger may very likely 
turn him so as to get a thrust at his side. It is here 
that the danger lies. But even a heavy, clumsy animal 
like a bull shows surprising quickness in a case "like this, 
and when he sees that his flank is to be turned takes to 
his heels, and thus, even if he is overtaken, receives his 
punishment on the hips, which are by no means 
vulnerable. 
It is not very long ago since I saw a contest of this 
kind in a corral between two old and ugly bulls. They 
could not be separated, and when finally one got the 
best of it, and his weaker antagonist was forced to flee, 
he bolted straight for the corral fence, and, hesitating for 
a second as he reached it, received the full force of his 
pursuer's blow on the hips squarely from the rear, and 
flew through the bars of the corral amid a shower of 
kindling wood, and did not stop his flight or his roaring 
until he was out of sight a mile away on the prairie. 
Horses, being hornless, of course fight in an entirely 
different manner — with feet and teeth. Any one who will 
watch young colts at play may see the method in which 
stallions fight very well represented. Commonly, they bite 
at head, neck and withers, striking with fore fe«t, or, if 
overcome, turning about and lashing out with the heels. 
But kicks with the hind feet seem to be very ineffective 
when received on the opponent's body. By far the most 
terrible weapons are the teeth. It is not to be doubted 
that the mane, and the thin crest of ligament and skin 
from which the mane springs, are protective — an armor 
to save each horse from the bites of the rival with which 
he fights. 
It is in the rutting season that most animals fight with 
vigor, and it is only at this time that serious injuries are 
received. Most of us have seen the locked antlers of Vir- 
ginia deer, and all have read stories of these animals 
being found fastened together dead or dying, The horns 
of moose and elk being widely spread are not likely to 
become locked under any circumstances, yet occasionally 
one reads of locked moose antlers; but such stories are 
probably apocryphal. A pair of locked elk antlers are 
understood to be now in the Smitlxsonian Institution, or 
possibly the National Museum, having been presented 
e-^v, 1 • Memam, who received them from I. W 
bchulz, by whom they were collected in northern Mon- 
tana. Ihey are probably quite unique. 
It is well known that in the rutting season the mating 
instinct in animals of the deer tribe becomes so prepon- 
derant as argely to change the animal's nature, so that 
the males lose the timidity which characterizes them for 
the greater part of the year. Cases have been recorded 
where white-tailed deer have attacked men at this season 
• and— if we are to believe the stories in the newspapers— 
the trees m portions of the Maine woods where moose and 
people are both abundant become, during the month of 
September and part of October, smooth and polished 
from being frequently climbed by individuals striving to 
escape infuriated bull moose. Elk and deer confined in 
parks become very savage and dangerous at this time, and 
in old times m the mountains whistling wild bull elk 
would often rush up quite close to any one who broke a 
^ w, °^ "3^*^^ almost any noise that he could hear. 
When deer and elk fight they come together with a 
short, sharp run, with the heads held low, the points 
01 the antlers directed well forward and the plane of the 
face almost parallel with the ground. The horns clash 
sharply, but the spring and bend of antlers and neck 
do away with any considerable shock, such as must be 
felt by goat or sheep or domesticated buffalo bull They 
push and push, each striving to press the other backward," 
and if It is early in the season, and both bulls are fat, both 
soon become winded, and their tongues hang out and 
water drips from their muzzles. In a contest like this 
weight tells, and it is usually the heavier bull that forces 
his opponent slowly backward, striving to make him 
yield more and more and to turn him so that a stroke 
may be made at his unprotected flank by the long, keen 
antler. But elk and deer are quick on their feet, and are 
protected by tough hides, and usually when the weaker 
of the struggling pair feels that he can hold out no longer, 
he springs quickly back, turns, and is off at full speed 
with his heavier antagonist lumbering in the rear. 
I have never seen antelope fight in the extremely 
active way described by Audubon. Such combats as I 
have witnessed have been much less stirring. The ani- 
mals stood head to head, feinted a little with their horns, 
which then met, and a pushing match ensued, in which 
the defeated fighter, after yielding a little, sprang back 
and ran off, being followed only a short distance by the 
victor. 
On one occasion, as I have elsewhere said, I saw two 
bucks-^one very large and stout, the other apparently 
much younger— following two does in the month of Sep- 
tember. The bucks were walking nearly side by side, 
the older one a little in front, when the smaller buck 
without warning darted on the other and gave him a 
vicious prod with his horns, which caused him to stagger. 
The young one then wheeled about and ran away, and 
was followed for fifty yards or so by the older. This 
same thing was repeated three times while I watched the 
animals. As soon as the older buck stopped the pursuit, 
the younger one stopped also, and turned about, and 
when the big buck returned to the does the little one 
followed him. Now and then the big buck would stop 
and look at the little fellow, and when he did so the little 
one stopped, but gradually the latter edged up to the 
older animal, until he had opportunity to give him a 
second and a third blow. 
I do not know how the mountain goat fights, but that 
it does so there is no question. At best it is a short 
tempered and rather cross grained animal, and very 
much disposed to stand up for its rights. It can easily 
defend itself against a dog, which has no chance at all 
against the sharp awl like horns. The Indians say that 
the goats are great fighters, and these animals have occa- 
sionally been killed carrying horns broken off from 
Other bucks in the thick skin of the hips. 
Besides using his antlers as weapons against his fellows, 
the bull elk employes them in another way. They are 
constantly brought in play during the rutting season to 
force the cow to do what he wishes. Your bull elk 
has no consideration for the female. He is a wife beater, 
and if any cow of his band does not start as soon as he 
thinks she should, or does not take the direction he 
wishes, he prods her savagely with his horns if he can 
overtake her. Yo. 
Midsummer Bird Notes. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Our friends in Quaker garb, the catbirds, put in an 
appearance hereabout on May 13, keeping under cover 
of the low shrubbery, as is their custom, for a few days, 
on arriving. May 16 two bobolinks were filling the air 
with song, as they hovered about the vacant fields at 
Sixtieth street and Twenty-first avenue. 
To think of the thousands of these rollicking songsters 
that used to frequent the meadows about us in the old 
days. Now their presence is so unusual here as to re- 
quire a special note in my journal. As stated in report 
of Seaboard Air Line in your issue of May 18 last, "there 
was an unusual rush of migrants." These had mostly 
left by May 20, but one hardly realized their passing in 
the crowd of residents they left behind them. All our 
old friends are still with us in numbers largely in excess 
of late years. On July 2, that day of awful humidity, 
when men and beasts simply wilted and went down in the 
city streets, I counted forty-three robins crowded in and 
about the bird tank on the lawn, jostling one another for 
a place in the water. There was a continuous stream of 
arrivals and departures, but these forty-three were pres- 
scnt at one time by actual count, in the water or perched 
on the edge of the tank. Humid weather always in-- 
creases the attendance at the batch, but this is a record 
for our tank, as far as my notes go. 
Our noisy tropical friends, the great crested fly- 
catchers, have favored us in numbers to an unusual ex- 
tent, and an occasional woodcock has dropped in on us 
during the past two weeks. Grackles have raised large 
families this season, and this brings to mind a peculiar 
habit of these birds. As may be generally known, there 
are many birds whose nestlings void the excrement in- 
closed in a glary, mucous-like sack or envelope, which 
is removed at once by the parent bird. In the case of the 
