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FOREST AND STREAM. 
[May 9, 1905- 
But just now I want to be permitted to pay my 
tribute to that most magnificent performance — "Photo- 
graphing tlie Wild Turkey" — by Charles L. Jordan, in 
your Christmas number. It was as modestly as fas- 
cinatingly told, but, gentlemen, what a performance 
was that! 
His quest, begun as far back as 1878, and continued 
in various ways and places till the final grand cam- 
paign, beginning in November, 1899, and continued 
with absolute devotion, with exception of but one 
single day. for six months! And with what a result! 
A liberal collection of the finest and rarest photographs 
in the world, with which he can take all the world into 
his confidence — worth endless pages of descriptions, 
be they never so well done, and better than all other 
possible trophies— tail feathers or wings or beards or 
actual skins, and secured for all time and for all scrap 
books of the lovers of the wild and fine in all the 
world. 
I would rather have that collection of photographs 
— that "turkey gallery" — ^than anything of the kind I can 
think of, and I would pride myself more on having 
taken one of them myself than on the best and luckiest 
shot I ever made Avith rifle; and who has not at some 
time or other made at least a shot or two over which 
he is inclined to hug himself? 
I have wanted to take a hand in several of the late 
discussions, I wanted to help "do up" Didymus and 
add my testimony about squirrel migrations. But he 
seems to have been sufficiently attended to. 
The perennial question of the disappearance of the 
passenger pigeon, however, I cannot let pass without 
a word. I have seen (unfortunately. I cannot now tell 
where — perhaps in your own colunuis) the sug.gestion 
that a vast extinguishment of pigeons took place in 
the Gulf of Mexico — the great flight having been 
caught in migration by a terrible storm, and the birds 
being drowned by myriads. This was the statement 
that ship masters reported sailing for miles over the 
sea — the surface of which was covered by the bodies of 
the birds. 
Now there are many things which, to me, make this 
story interesting. Numerous instances are on record 
of a species being nearly or quite exterminated by 
some cataclysm of nature— some change of conditions 
before which a species is helpless. 
It is but a few years ago that we were lamenting the 
destruction of nearly all the bluebirds by an untimely 
and tremendous freeze in the Southern States, whither 
the birds had migrated, and they are only just begin- 
ning to grow plentiful again in the North in the spring. 
Some years ago a new deep-sea food fish, the "tile 
fish," was discovered in the Atlantic, and great prepara- 
tions were made to fish the new locality and make avail 
of this new source of supply. 
Suddenly, for some reason, the polar current invaded 
the haunts of the tile fish, reduced the temperature be- 
low the living point for the tile fish, and their dead 
bodies, unaffected by any disease, simply covered the 
surface of the ocean for many a league. 
Again, the old order prevailed as to the temperature 
of the water, and slowly, coming up from the southern 
waters, the tile fish repopulated its old haunts. Tem- 
perature soundings assured Col. McDonald, the shrewd 
old Fish Commissioner, that tile fish conditions were 
restored, and he sent out a ship to see if the fish had 
not returned, and I was present at Wood's Hole when 
the expedition returned with one genuine tile fish, in 
proof of the colonel's theory. That historic fish I had 
the pleasure of examining. 
Recent testimony has shown that wild ducks and 
geese may be destroyed in numbers by a gale at sea. 
That a great flight of pigeons might he so destroyed 
I have not a doubt. 
The first question would be: "Did the passenger 
pigeon in its southern migration go south of the 
United States?" The second would be: "Is there any 
living witness to, or authentic record of, pigeon mor- 
tality in the waters of the Gulf?" 
If such a thing occurred, there should be living- wit- 
nesses of it — for the disappearance of the great pigeon 
flight was not so very long ago. Sailor folk see many 
strange things which never find their way into print, 
and it is quite conceivable to me that such a thing 
might have occurred in the Gulf waters and have 
escaped general notice or important record. 
The simple fact is that the going out of the pigeon 
has never been satisfactorily accounted for. Not all 
the stories of the destruction of vast numbers by man 
and beast at the pigeon roosts begin to account for the 
numbers that were wont to assemble. Up to the last 
the accounts were of millions still unslaughtered. The 
Gulf story comes the nearest yet of anything adequate, 
provided, always, the species in its migration ever went 
so far. 
Let me close with a pigeon story of my own — a 
modern and truthful one. Last summer I saw a flock 
of twenty or thirty passenger pigeons. Moreover, it 
was in Massachusetts! I blessed my eyes with the 
sight. I went more than a hundred miles to see it, 
for I knew they were there. 
They were in the aviary of Professor AVhitman, the 
director of the School of Natural History at Wood's 
Hole, and the great student of the Columbids. 
They are hardy birds and breed well in captivity. 
They were raised from a pair or two obtained some 
years ago from an Indian in Wisconsin. These few 
birds are the only ones known to me to be in exist- 
ence of the species that delighted my boyhood and 
which covered nearly the whole continent. 
It was a sight that thrilled me, and I couldn't look 
at them long enough. By their aid I could bring to 
my mind the hurtling wings and swift rush of the hosts 
as I knew them once. 
I wish that a dozen, and then a hundred, and then 
a thousand lovers of the pigeon would, as fast as 
possible, get pairs of these birds and carefully protect 
them till numbers could be liberated all over the coun- 
try, and so the species be preserved to the world. 
C. H. Ames. 
po6TON, Mass., April 27. 
^'Intelligence of Wild Things/* 
B.ditor Forest and Sirearn: 
And so it is the intelligence of wild things that is 
causing the wheels to gyrate once more. I have never 
read John Burroughs, but I shall since reading Hermit's 
criticisms of him. He seems quite sensible at all points 
quoted by Hermit. 
How much of the intelligence that it is necessary for 
bird or animal to maintain life is taught by the parent 
bird or animal ? None. The young learn some things 
by observation, but the mother never teaches in any sense 
of the word. We have chickens that were taken from 
under the hen as soon as they were out of the shell. 
Drop a crumb before them and ihey pick it. up; that is 
the first and they do it very naturally. A bird flies by 
outside the window and with a warning note they squat 
and "freeze," as Selon Thompson puis it. A hat thrown 
across the room produces the same result. The motlier 
never taught them thit, as she is still on the nest hatch- 
ing the rest of the eggs. 
All our chickens were isolated when young from all 
grown birds; the roosters crow and the hens cackle just 
the same as other fowl. We have a goose that was 
hatched under a hen and has never seen another goose, 
yet it calls and does all the things that other geese do. 
Does the old rooster teach the young to crow? No! 
As soon as the young rooster attempts to crow the old 
rooster begins to fight and drive him away. This is 
everyday knowledge to farm folks. With our chickens 
is a hen that sat on a nest of eggs that failed to hatch, 
yet she goes round clucking just the same as if she had a 
brood of young chickens. This does not look like the 
result of reasoning-. No, she is acting according to the 
compelling force that is above and beyond the bird. 
We once hatched five wild and five tame duck eggs 
under a hen. Though there was no difference at all in 
size or markings, we could pick every wild duck as soon 
as they were hatched simply because they were wild 
ducks. The teaching of the wild things is from a vastly 
higher authority than the parent. 
When we want to laugh give us the new school of 
natural history ; when we want to seriously consider the 
matter, give us Jolm Burroughs, Chas. Hallock and the 
like, and they need a whole lot of fixing. 
The greatest trouble young birds make is by trying to 
fly before they are able. Who has not heard a great fuss 
among the birds, only to find some young bird out of the 
nest before it is able to fly. It has, perhaps, caught on 
some lower branch, where it sits looking wise as an owl, 
but every attempt at flight brings it to a still lower 
branch, and the old birds can do nothing but raise a 
clamor and draw the attention of prowling animal or boy. 
The young man trained in the journalistic school who 
writes natural history at a day's notice is doing the same 
thing. He may be carried for some distance by an acci- 
dental gust, but the ground is beneath and the jolt will 
be the harder when it does come. 
How the wolf holds its tail is another important mat- 
ter. Now, while the wolves howl about us every night 
and keep our dogs in a perfect frenzy, we have seen com- 
paratively few wolves and those at such distance as to be 
useless as a nature study. I should like to know how the 
student gets so close as to make a minute study of them. 
We have been among the wolves all our lives. We know 
their disappearing shadow as they fade away across the 
bronze hills; their howls are as the chirping of robins in 
the trees round about; we know how they look and act 
when fast in a steel trap, but closer details we could not 
give and be honest. 
Now, here is another live question for the naturalist: 
Who ever heard of a mother teaching her children to tell 
falsehood ? What mother ever taught except against all 
untruth? And yet how universal is the practice among 
men. Is this, too, a compelling force which makes us 
act out our nature, or is it the result of our greater 
reasoning power? E. P. Jaques. 
Durham, Kas. 
Editor Forest and Sir earn: 
As Hermit in Forest and Stream's issue of April rS 
criticises John Burroughs, one of our first naturalists, 
I feel sure that he will not object to explaining one or 
two of his own statements in order that some of us who 
arc not so well informed as he in natural history mat- 
ters, may understand just what he means. 
He speaks of a song sparrow in his dooryard which 
has visited the place for fourteen years. I should like to 
know how he knows that it is the same song sparrow. 
If it can be demonstrated that the same bird has been 
seen for fourteen successive years, it is an extremely 
interesting matter as giving a fact about the age to which 
tins species lives — a matter about which I had supposed 
little or nothing was known. 
Incidentally I should like also to learn how Hermit 
knows that the sparrow is teaching "his year old boy" to 
sing, and also since his acquaintance with the family life 
of this bird is so close, why the song sparrow's wife will 
not consent to live in the woods. What feminine argu- 
ment does she advance in favor of a life in the fields? 
Has not her husband sufficient force of character to in- 
duce his wife to do what he thinks would be for the 
family advantage? 
Hermit tells us of many extraordinary things about 
birds and animals and I read his articles with great 
pleasure. But when he makes statements like those about 
the song sparrows, it seems to me that they should be 
supported by evidence which will satisfy others. 
Inquirer. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In the article on "False Natural History," in the 
April 18 Forest and Stream, Hermit makes a state- 
ment which he does not explain. 
He says, speaking of birds: "The young females 
learn nest building and how to rear a family, and the 
young males learn to sing. These birds learn by ob- 
servation and by teaching." 
How do the young females learn nest building? Do 
they study the position of each straw in their home 
nest and remember it until the following spring? They 
were not present to see it built, and the old birds build 
no sample nests for their benefit in the fall. The wood- 
peckers frequently excavate nesting cavities in the fall, 
but not for this purpose, as some species use them 
to spend stormy winter days in. But the song birds 
build no nests in the fall, and yet, on their return the 
following spring, these young females build their own 
nests and rear their own broods. They surely do not 
at this season wait until the old birds build to see how 
it is done. Who has watched a pair of birds building 
a nest with an audience of last year's birds perched on 
an adjoining limb? It seems to be the custom at this 
time for the builders to drive away all intruders. 
He also says: "The young males learn to sing," 
and he says that young roosters learn to crow. I have 
known a young rooster that was raised in a city back 
yard, way beyond hearing and seeing any of his kind, 
yet at a certain age he began to crow and could crow 
as well as any other rooster. 
Chreswell. J, Hunt, 
AH Watches arc Compasses, 
lldifor Forest and Stream: 
A friend points out that, in describing the . mode of 
using a watch as a compass in your issue of March 
7, there was an important omission. In your issue 
of March 21 your intelligent correspondent, Coahoma, 
kindly responded to my request and explained the 
rationale of the process, but the omission seems to have 
escaped his notice. My friend sends me the following, 
clipped from London Truth several years ago, from 
which it appears that up to noon the distance between the 
hour hand and twelve must be counted forward, but after 
noon the cotmt must be backward : 
"A few days ago I was standing by an American 
gentleman when I expressed a wish to know which 
point was north. He at once pulled out his watch, looked 
at it, and pointed to the north. I asked him whether he 
had a compass attached to his watch. He replied, 'All 
watches are compasses.' Then he explained to me how 
this was. Point the hour hand to the sun, and south 
is exactly half way between the hour hand and the figure 
XII. on the watch, counting forward up to noon, but 
backward after the sun has passed the meridian. For in- 
stance : Suppose that it is eight o'clock, point the hand 
indicating eight to the sun, and the figure X on the watch 
is due south. Suppose that it is 4 o'clock, point the 
hand indicating four to the sun and II. on the watch is 
exactly south. My American friend was quite surprised 
that I did not know this. Thinking that, possibly, I was 
ignorant of a thing that everyone else knew, and happen- 
ing to meet Mr. Stanley, the African explorer, I asked 
that eminent traveler whether he was aware of this sim- 
ple mode of discovering the points of the compass. He 
said that he had never heard of it. I presume, therefore, 
that the world is in the same state of ignorance. Amalfi 
is proud of having been the home of the inventor of the 
compass. I do not know what town boasts of my Ameri- 
can friend as a citizen." The Old Angler. 
A May Day Moving;. 
Wymore, Nebraska. — Editor Forest and Stream: On 
the first day of May last year a moving took place at our 
house. We had noticed for several days that a squirrel 
had made two holes about twenty feet north of our cis- 
tern, in the back yard; but we saw no sign of the 
little trespasser until the first day of May, when we saw 
what we call a ground squirrel, or striped gopher, coming 
along the front sidewalk, with a little squirrel in her 
mouth and one following her. The little fellows were 
very little larger than a peanut. These two she deposited 
in one of the new holes north of the cistern, and re- 
turned to the front sidewalk and soon came again with 
one in her mouth and one following, but when she passed 
the bay window the little fellow that was following made 
a sneak and went in against the wall in the corner made 
by the bay window. The old one went on and deposited 
the one she was carrying and went back to the sidewalk 
after more. She came that time with one in her mouth 
and one following; and when she passed the bay window 
the little one that had been playing hookey came out and 
joined the cavalcade, and the three were deposited in the 
hole by the cistern. She kept this up until she had trans- 
ferred thirteen from the old home to the new, and it was 
one of the most interesting sights that it has ever been 
our pleasure to witness. We at once deposited some oat- 
meal in two little piles near the new hole, and frequently 
saw nine or ten of the young ones around a pile of oat- 
meal, eating as though they were hungry, two or three 
down on all fours and five or six standing up, but_ we 
never were able to see the whole thirteen out at one time. 
This was witnessed by my wife and Susie, our baby, who 
is old enough to teach school, and both are very credible 
people. Why did the squirrel move her little family from 
the front sidewalk to the new holes near the cistern 
nearly 150 feet, and why did she move on the first day of 
]V[ay? A. D. McCandless. 
A Cow Moose and a Leaky Guide. 
It cost Mr. J. L. Mott, grandson of Jordan L. Mott, 
of the Mott Iron Works, $800 recently to kill a cow moose 
in Washington county, Maine. 
It is understood that nothing waS heard of the illegal 
killing until after Mr. Mott had left the State; then, 
however, his guide, while under the influence of liquor, 
talked about the matter, and when it came to the ears of 
the authorities it was not difficult to secure satisfactory 
evidence of the shooting. 
Mr. Mott, who is a Harvard student, was at Cambridge 
last fall when a representative of the Game Commission 
visited him there, bearing a warrant for his arrest for the 
offense. Owing to the illness of a member of the family 
no effort was made at the time for his extradition. Re- 
cently Mr. Mott, through his counsel, entered a plea of 
nolo contendere to the charge, and was let off with a pay- 
ment of $500 as a fine and costs amounting to $300. 
The animals killed are said to have been a cow and calf 
moose, and the penalty prescribed by the statute is a fine 
of- not less than $500 and not more than $1,000 or im- 
prisonment for not more than four months. It is thus 
seen that Mr. Mott escaped with the lightest possible 
penalty; yet even so, cow moose come high. 
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