FOREST AND STREAM. 
106 
Is "Protective Coloting*^ a Myth? • 
New York, Jan. zj-^Editor Forest and Stream: Most 
haturaHsts, 1 take it, will agree with the comments 
inade i nyour issue of Jan. 31 by Mr. Francis Moonan 
on Mr. Paul Fountain's views on protective coloration, 
or, to speak more iully, with regard to the adaptation 
tof form and color for purposes of concealment. 
Moonan, however, does not call attention to the fact 
that Mr. Fountain distinctly contradicts himself on a 
number of occasions. Speaking of the ant bears and 
Sloth he states pp. 124-5 that they "look, even when 
you are close to them, so much like a bundle of the 
dried herbage that they often escape the eye of the 
hunter, and would be sure to do that of the novice." 
Further on, speaking of the ant bear and its habit 
of turning its large, bushy tail up over its back, he 
says that it does this "in such a manner that when 
the animal is squatting on the ground it is completely 
hid under it, and looks like a tuft of dead grass." 
Still further along, he says of the two-toed and three- 
toed sloths that they "so much resemble a bunch of 
dead dried-up twigs in the trees that they are not 
easily discovered except by experienced eyes." 
All this, of course, agrees vei'y ill with his earlier 
statement that coloration is no protection whatev^er to 
the human eye; and that the practiced hunter is never 
deceived by it unless as the result of his own careless- 
ness. Naturalist. 
Potato Bugs and Quail. 
MiLFORD, Conn., Jan. 26. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
In Prof. Attwater's published investigations regarding 
the usefulness of our bird fauna to the husbandman, 
he states that he found 101 potato bugs in the body 
(stomach) of a single quail. This raised the question 
in my mind as to the possibility of quail being pois- 
oned by the'paris green solution that is universally 
used in New England and elsewhere, to clear our 
potato fields of these beetles. The fact that we have 
had more quail in the season just past than ever be- 
fore and almost no potato bugs during the summer, 
and consequently very little "paris greening/' may or 
may not be a case of cause and effect. 
lias this theory ever been advanced, and is the 
potato bug a favorite with the quail — a bonne houche? 
Dr. Morton Grinnell. 
[This suggestion has been made before, but we know 
of no observations to show that quail are ever af- 
fected by the poison which is used against the beetles.] 
The Wild Pigeon, 
A CORRESPONDENT sends us a press clipping dated 
Denison, Tex., Jan. 23, and relating that "Dr. A. T. 
Canova and Mr. Marklin passed through here to-day 
en route to Chicago. They have spent the past two 
years in the district of Valladolid, Yucatan. Dr. Can- 
iova thinks he has cleared up the mystery surrounding 
.the disappearance of the wild pigeons from the United 
States. He saw thousands in Yucatan, and within the 
jpast year they have appeared in portions of Mexico. 
The doctor predicts that they will again appear in the 
United States as numerous as ever." 
But the pigeons Dr. Canova found in Yucatan are 
not the wild pigeons of this country, and consequently 
their existence does not clear up the mystery of the 
disappearance of our species. 
— ^ — 
Proprietor* of shooting resort* will find it profitable to advertise 
them in Fokxbt amd Stkkak. 
A Boy and Some Crows. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
A correspondent in a late number of Forest .\nd 
Stream thinks that the crows should have some men- 
tion in its pages, and so do I. The crows were the 
first birds I ever shot, though I would not kill one of 
them now, nor let them be killed if I could prevent it. 
When a small boy in Pennsylvania I spent most of 
my summers on a farm of my uncle's that was part 
of it in two counties; it was right on the line, his 
house being in Allegheny County and his barn in 
Butler County. This country, though it was only a 
few miles out from Allegheny City, was a backwoods 
then in 1845, the houses being often several miles apart. 
My uncle's house stood half a mile from the main 
road, and a lane led up to it; one side of the lane had 
heavy timber on it all the way up, while a large corn 
field occupied the opposite side. 
A colony of crows, there must have been nearly, if 
not all, of a hundred of them, had their roost out in 
this timber, and every morning soon after sunrise they 
would fly down to the cornfield and stay in it nearly 
all day. 
Farmers thought then, as most of them still think, 
that the crows only damaged them and were of no 
ibenefit to them. I was too young then to think, but 
when hunting these crows I almost always found them 
on the ground between the rows of corn; they were 
after insects, not corn, then, though they did attack 
the corn once in a while. The ears were only just 
forming then. Later they might do more damage. 
My uncle had scarecrows all through the fields, but 
they did not scare many crows; I do not believe we 
have a bird that can see anj' further through a lad- 
der than a crow can, or can put this and that together 
more quickly than he can. I had one of these crows 
for a pet for a year and learned something about them; 
these crows had no doubt found all about these scare- 
crows long since. 
Some of these scarecrows were long poles planted 
in the ground with a clap board, a rude oak shingle, 
hung to the top of the pole by a rope. In theoi-y this 
Ijoard was supposed to swing with the wind and scare 
a prow clear out of the country. In practice it did 
nothing of the kind. My uncle had several old suits 
of clothes stuffed with straw and planted on poles; I 
shot a CTow that was perched on a hat on one of these 
bogus men; it had not scared that crow. 
One of my cousins had made me a bow of stout 
hickoi-y and a number of arrows; some of them he 
had tipped with sharp horseshoe nails to kill birds 
with, he said; I killed the crows with them. 
I began to practice first on a tree and kept at it 
until I could hit the tree 30 feet away, then began on 
my aunt's chickens; and now my uncle called my atten- 
tion to the crows, telling me that he would pay me 
one cent each for every crow I killed and brought to 
the barn, where he could count them. I don't suppose 
he expected me to kill many of them, but before I had 
part of these crows killed and the rest driven off for 
good I had him nearly bankrupt. 
A cent then looked almost as large to a farmer as a 
dollar does now. The old copper cent that we had 
then was as large as a half dollar is, and these farmers 
made most of their payments in trade; if they could 
get money enough to pay their taxes they were satis- 
fied, I began on the crows while they were seated on 
the top rail of the fence before they went to work in 
the field each morning. They seemed to be holding a 
kind of meeting here; they may have been calling the 
roll; they made noise enough, anyhow. At first they 
paid no attention to me; I have since thought that 
they may have taken me to be a little .girl. I looked 
like one, I thought; I was dressed niuch like one, we 
had no knee pants for boys then, and the most of 
us- eould not get long trousers before we were six 
yeafs old; I was that age now, but still had the skirt 
on, it would now be called a kilt suit, a short heavy 
skirt and a jacket. I began by crawling along close 
to the fence, then when near enough to a crow I would 
send an arrow into him. These arrows of mine would 
not kill them very often, but the crow would drop, 
then I caught and finished him. I got six in all the 
fi.rst day, and. was paid for them in silver, a Mexican 
"fip"; they were current then, four of them making 
25 cents. 
Part of these I got off the fence, the rest I got by 
following them through the corn and sneaking up on 
them; but after a day or two I could get no more 
off that fence; they had me marked now, and as soon 
as I would show myself a crow would call out caw — 
"there he comes," I reckon; then they would get out 
of that. Next I lay in the weeds behind the fence and 
got a few; then they quit calling the roll here on the 
fence and went straight from the timber to the field. 
I kept after them every day except Sunday for just 
two weeks; and finally, on going out to meet them one 
morning, not a crow came; they had emigrated, and 
they did not return that summer. 
There was one thing I got while hunting them that 
pleased me, I had always wanted to get out of this 
petticoat, as I called it. I got out of it now, my aunt 
made me a pair of trousers so that I could get through 
the corn easier; I never had to wear the skirt again. 
I have forgotten exactly how many crows 1 got in 
all, I think about 30 though. A few days before they 
left me for good, I shot one, and on going to pick him 
up he got up and bit me, I had only stunned him. I 
kept him alive, and taking him home, my cousin 
clipped one of his wings to prevent him from flying, 
then I got a flour barrel, and laying it on its side put 
bim in it and fed him all the corn he could eat, he 
seemed to be contented here. He had the run of the 
yard, and was not here a week before he was in the 
house and all over it; there was not a hole or corner 
that he could not get into. There was nothing that 
crOAv could carry off that he did not try to steal; I have 
known him to have my aunt's scissors, her thimbles, 
sewing thread and half a dozen teaspoons, all in his 
barrel at one time; I found my cousin's finger rings, 
all her hair pins and a pair of ribbon garters, all in 
his barrel one day; she had not missed them yet. I 
once saw him try to carry off a large brass candle 
stick. Any thing that was bright was what he seemed 
to want. I took him with me to town when I went 
home and kept him there all winter, then brought him 
out to the farm again the next summer. 
These crows that I had hunted last summer or oth- 
ers—I think they were my old friends though, they 
iseemed to know me — ^were here again; I got after 
them again, but did not have to go after them often; 
they left, and took my crow with them. I had let his 
wing feathers grow; I did not thinlc he would leave 
me now, but he did. 
Late that fall he came back alone and stayed in the 
barn all winter; he would let them feed him, but never 
would let himself be caught now. I think had I been 
there I could have caught him. He left in the spring 
and never came back. My cousin had another pet for 
me this year, a young raccoon, that he found one cold 
morning in April half frozen on the barn floor. He 
brought him to the house and thawed him out, then 
kept him for me. I had him for two years, and while 
I had him I was the only one he would let handle him 
without biting them, I could carry him around in my 
arms, he never offered to hurt me. I forgot to leave 
him water one night and he slipped his collar and left. 
While I had the crow there was a lady living across 
the street from me who had a parrot that her brother, 
Avho was a sailor, had sent her, and I think that her 
brother, if it was he who had taught the parrot Eng- 
lish, must have been a mate and a profane one, too. 
This parrot seemed to have mastered about all the 
cuss words in our language, but he knew nothing else. 
I tried to teach him some of our boys' slang, as "go 
choke yourself" and "soak your head," but I would 
get in return, "Go to Hades you lubber." 
I found out that the parrot hated the sight of my 
crow. That suited me. I would carry the crow over 
to the parrot's cage, then hold him here, while the 
parrot ran the whole string of cussing, all he knew. 
He had a string of oaths that he would repeat, and as 
soon as he had got to the end he would begin at 
the beginning again; he never got his remarks mixed; 
he would always address me and the crow as d — d 
lubbers, that is why I think a mate had taught him. 
The lady would .stand his conversation for a while, then 
run the crow and me off with her broom. 
Cabia Blanco. 
California Jottings* 
San Francisco, Jan. 20.— The California Game and 
^ish Lomtmssion has won its case against John F. 
Cornea, the commission merchant, -who has been a 
persistent violator of the game laws himself and the 
instigator and beneficiary of countless violations of the 
law on the part of others. Police Judge Mogan ren- 
dered his long delayed decision, found Corriea guilty 
and imposed a fine of $40. Corriea has signified his 
intention of appealing. .The case was a most important 
one by reason of the principle involved, and also be- 
cause the offender was not a mere market-hunter, but 
a man of substance, employing numerous agents' and 
hunters, not alone in this State, but throughout the 
Pacific coast. In view of the magnitude of his trans- 
actions, the fine imposed appears insignificant, but 
the commissioners are content. Their aim has been 
for months to secure the conviction of some prominent 
commission merchant under what is known as "the 
possession clause" of the act, and this they have now 
accomplished. The clause in question reads as fol- 
lows: "Every person who, during any one calendar 
day takes, kills, or destroys, or has in his possession 
more than twenty-five quail, partridge, snipe, curlew, 
or ibis, or more than fifty doves, or more than fifty 
ducks, or more than twenty rail, is guilty of a misde- 
meanor." Mr. Corriea was caught with just twenty- 
six quail in his possession, which had been shipped 
to him by the deputy game warden at Oroville, and 
he IS the first commission merchant to be convicted 
under this particular section of the Act. It will be 
readily seen that if the higher court sustain the con- 
struction which has been placed Cipon the Act by the 
police court and the commission enforces the law in 
the future as rigorously as it has done in the past, 
the sale of game in California will practically cease, 
for to carry on -the business with a stock of an odd 
dozen or two of assorted game birds would never pay. 
A Record Wildcat. 
The largest wildcat that has been killed in the 
neighborhood of San Francisco for the last ten years, 
was secured by Dr. W. F. Jones, of San Rafael, while 
shooting quail on the Lucas Ranch, about three miles 
from that city. Like all the wildcats in the vicinity, 
this one was of the lynx species with tufted ears, 
whiskers and a ruff about the neck. He was extremely 
fat, and his pelt was in fine condition. He measured, 
unskinned, and without stretching either the truth or 
th^ cat, from the end of his nose to the tip of the bone 
of his tail, thirty-eight inches. I have read of them 
m the newspapers measuring five feet and upward, but 
this one was five inches longer than any wildcat out of 
fifty odd that I have seen. 
Daefcs and QtjaiU 
The season for ducks and quail closes on Feb. i \\\ 
this State, and in some of the counties the quail sea- 
son closed on the 15th inst. Sportsmen are unani- 
mously agreed that valley quail this year have been 
scarcer than ever before in the history of the State, 
and the duck shooting has been nothing like as good as 
it was last year. Prevailing climatic conditions furnish 
a satisfactory explanation of the dearth of ducks. 
I here have been no high winds or severe storms this 
winter, and foggy days and a more or less unceasing 
drizzle are anything but favorable for the sport. As 
to the valley quail, each year it is becoming more evi- 
dent that something must be done to prevent the whole- 
■■--rile trapping of these birds by Portuguese and Italian- 
Swiss ranchers, who own or lease nearly all the dairy 
and other agricultural properties within easy reach 
of San Francisco. This year, while shooting quail, I 
have personally smashed 15 qtfail-traps on as many 
ranches; but as it is only the work of 10 minutes to 
construct a new one out of an old fruit-box, it is ques- 
tionable whether any particular good is done by smash- 
ing them. What is needed is a liberal appropriation 
for the fish and game commission and a rigorous en- 
forcement of the law, and this last cannot be had with- 
out the appropriation. Unless this is done, within a 
few years, open quail shooting in the neighborhood 
of San Francisco will be a thing of the past Limiting 
the bag to 25 birds, as under the present law, can ac- 
complish very little toward preservation, because it 
is impossible for even the most expert shot to bag 25 
birds in a day in this neighborhood. My best bag this 
season over unpreserved ground, was 14 birds, and 
the best bag of the best shot of my acquaintance over 
similar ground was 19 quail. Even in the preserves 
there were few days when anybody got the limit. As 
for ducks, I do not know to my own knowledge of a 
single instance when 50 birds were bagged in a dav 
by any one sportsman, although I heard of three such 
cases, and upon investigation found that in no instance 
had the shooter reached the limit, although they had 
come close to it The San Francisco commission mer- 
chants are responsible for the wholesale trapping of 
quail by ranchers, as almost all birds so trapped are 
shipped to the city and sold in direct Violation of the 
law. Very few are sold locally. 
Game Commission Items, 
Deputy Game Warden L. N. Kercheval ran down to 
Bakersfield the other day and stepped into the Louvre 
for luncheon. He had heard that they were selling 
quail there, and although they did not appear upon 
the menu, the only game entry being "squabs," he 
asked for quail, got quail, ate one of them, pocketed 
the other and paid the 50 cent check. "Who is running 
this restaurant?" he inquired of the cashier. "Mr. D. 
M. Sill is manager. You will find him right over there, 
sir." Deputy Kercheval arrested Mr. Sill, who evinced 
no surprise, but prepared to accompany him. "Surely 
you knew it was against the law to sell quail?" queried 
Kercheval. "Certainly I did. I have been in the hotel 
business thirty years and have to serve what my cus- 
tomers call for. I have been expecting to be arrested 
every day. I shall plead guilty and pay whatever fine 
the justice may assess me"; and Sill was as good as his 
word; paid the $25 fine, shook hands with Kercheval 
