444 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
tJuNE 6, 1903. 
one of the family brought out niilk. Before the cat de- 
serted her family, the hen would lead the kittens to a 
flat ledge where the cats sunned themselves. The cat 
usually hunted up the hen in the early days, for a relief 
from an overflow of milk. Several times I saw the hen 
hunt for the cat when the kittens were hungry. When 
the cat weaned the kittens the hen seemed to understand 
that she must look to the family for food. 
I noticed that the kittens, as tlicy became older, failed 
to plav like kittens taught by a mother cat, and their 
voices' remained weak and thin. In many ways they 
showed a lack of cat teaching. On the other hand, they 
adopted some of the ways of the hen. They would scat- 
ter like chickens and would scratch in imitation of the 
hen. I did not see them eat the insects which they found, 
excepting grasshoppers. Mr. Parsons was a practical 
man and wanted eggs, so he killed the kittens. If I had 
known what he intended to do I should have ottered to 
buy the lot for further study. 1 remember that I sent 
Forest and Stream an account of this case— I thmk 
a clipping from a local paper. The intelligence of the 
cat, hen and kittens, under strange conditions, was so 
evident that a dull observer could not make a mistake. 
The cat reasoned that the hen would take good care of 
her family, and she was contented, like some human 
mothers that give their babies away. The hen understood 
fully that the kittens would not eat the insects which 
she found, and reasoned that she must look for food m 
another direction, and intelligently acted upon this 
reasoning. , " • , • i. u 
Mr Jaques seems to be unfortunate in his home ob- 
servations of the wolf. He claims to have been among 
wolves all his life, and yet could not get near enough to 
see how they carried their tails, and he questions the 
statements of others. If he would use his thinking 
powers he might come to the conclusion that there were 
other localities outside of Kansas where the v,'olf could 
be studied at close quarters. In my boyhood days I savv 
wolves frequently in the State of Maine. My father so d 
out his business in the town of Oldtown, where he sold 
goods to the Indians and lumbermen, and moved into the 
wilderness. Bears, wolves and other wild things ranged 
around the new home. Often I have seen wolves skulk- 
ing around the sheep yard at night time, and once a wolf 
chased a sheep into the barn. Six feet below the floor 
there was a hog pen. The sheep j umped into the pen and 
the wolf followed. When the wolf found he was penned 
he acted like a whipped cur. He hugged his tail between 
his legs, something I had never seen before. 
Our cows pastured on the intervales in the woods, and 
it was no unusual thing to meet a bear or wolf in the old 
logging road when late in the afternoon we were search- 
ing for the cattle. At this period there were no deer m 
that part of Maine. Years later the wolves retreated to 
the northern wilderness and deer returned in great 
""in^the fifties, while in the woods for Nathan Frost, of 
Orono, I saw wolves frequently. In the fall six of us 
went in to build a camp and hovel. While we were tak- 
ing our supplies from the bateau to the camping ground 
we often met a very large wolf in the path. Sometimes 
he would refuse to leave the path. After we had leveled 
a spot for the camp, and while we were eating dinner, 
this wolf walked to the middle of the cleared spot and 
showed his teeth. Cal. Bumpus, the boss, threw an ax 
at him and he left, but did not hurry. He, and all the 
wolves of mv observation, carried his tad hanging down 
naturally. l' except the one in the hog pen and those I 
have seen in traps, and young ones at play in captivity 
that raised their tails. ■ 
Inquirer writes that he would like to know how I know 
that the song sparrow is teaching his year-old boy to 
sing? I answered this question fully m one paragraph 
of my paper, but for Inquirer's benefit I will repeat. I 
stated that the old male would smg the mating song 
often enough to give the young male a lesson. That he 
did not sing to the females which he brought into the 
woods, "or sing the mating Tsong when alone, but instead 
he sung a low twitter by the hour." I should be dull of 
comprehension if, after fourteen years of this exhibition, 
I could not understand what was going on in my door- 
yard. 
Inquirer also writes : "He speaks of a song sparrow m 
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?" . 
This is a fair question, and deserves an answer in tull. 
I have just read the revised proof of this sparrow's his- 
tory, which, with other natural history items will appear 
later in book form; therefore I can only give a limited 
answer; I know this little sparrow by his individuality. 
Then, too, he is the only sparrow that visits my door- 
yard excepting now and then when he brings in one of 
his children. Again, he was wounded fourteen years ago 
in the wing and the short feathers over the wound persist 
in standing up after each moult. This sparrow is well 
known to hundreds of summer visitors. A Governor of 
the State and his wife formed his acquaintance years 
ago. , 
Inquirer wants to know why the song sparrows wife 
will not consent to live in the woods ? If he knows any- 
thing about the life of this sparrow, he must know that 
it is a bird of the farm and field. The females select the 
nesting site and rear the young; the male sings but does 
very little toward the support of a family. This sparrow s 
wife sticks to the fields and will not nest in the woods, 
although a former mate, that was shot, did rear one brood 
in the woods near my cabin. . 
From my boyhood days I have been interested m 
natural history, and for the last eighteen years I have 
spent the most of the time in careful, and I trust intelli- 
gent observation of the wild things about me. I feed the 
birds and supply nesting material of various kinds. The 
birds have learned to know me and are fearless when I 
pry into their domestic affairs. As the years go by I am 
more and more impressed by the close relation between 
bird ways and human ways. Courtship and marriage are 
as variable and interesting as in the human family, but 
there is no divorce in the bird family. Once mated is 
mated for life. The male birds return from the south 
about a week before the females and young. The old 
females assist the young females in selecting nesting 
sites which usually are in the immediate locality of the 
mother's nest. The mother looks after the welfare of her 
year-old daughters; in this way family ties are main- 
tained. I see this trait in many birds that visit my cabin, 
such as catbirds, woodtlirushcs, veeries, ovenbirds, robins, 
towhee buntings, chestnut-sided warblers, black-throated 
warblers, redstarts, chickadees and song sparrows. It 
proves that blood is thicker than water in the bird family 
as well as the human family. I have seen mother birds 
assist in nest-building in several instances. Years ago I 
saw this trait in the eaves swallow. The young birds 
would begin a nest on the plain clapboards, which would 
fall before it was half built. The old birds took a hand 
and induced the young birds to select a secure spot. I 
have known the old bird to use force to keep a foolish 
youngster from a dangerous nesting site. 
My reason for criticising Mr. Burroughs' article in the^ 
Atlantic Monthly was stated in my first paper. His 
positive statements, so plainly at variance with the senti- 
ments found in all his books, will be quoted by numerous 
writers, and will furnish the munition of war to hundreds 
of scribes who are wholly ignorant of the questions in 
dispute. Mr. Burroughs has eloquently described hun- 
dreds of intelligent acts of the lower animals. I have 
long been an admirer of his brilliant descriptive powers, 
and I would rest satisfied if I possessed half his ability 
to describe what I see in my study of nature. But the 
intelligence of wild things is a fixed fact, and the senti- 
ment is growing rapidly with the intelligent public. 
Nature studies are now more common in our schools, and 
the lecture field is overrun with students of nature. In- 
stinct is no longer king of the wild things. He is deposed 
and must take his place with the commoners. 
M. A. Walton, "Hermit." 
GLOycESTBR, May 19. 
What Are They? 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Last fall, while taking; a stroll with my hound 
through a rather wild strip of woods, I ran across a 
fox hole which looked as though it had sheltered a 
family of foxes that summer. I thought no more of 
the find for a time, but this year, when I was shown a 
young fox, one of a litter of five, which had just been 
dug out, I thought that possibly the hole I had found 
might also be inhabited. 
One morning recently my brother and I started out 
to find it and see if it was occupied. We easily 
reached the place, which was on the side of a steep 
hill and in the middle of a patch of catbriers. The en- 
trance was directly under two fallen trees. These were 
crossed and evidently had been utilized by the foxes 
as a means of concealment of the entrance of the bur- 
row, since part of the branches were under the pile of 
dirt that had been taken out of the hole. The trees, 
therefore, had been there before the hole was made. 
There were no signs of habitation around the outside, 
but I was very anxious to dig it out as I had never 
seen the inside of a fox hole. 
This promised to be a difficult job, as the space was 
a small one and the only tool we had was a sod cutter 
that we had brought along with which to kill snakes. 
We had not come with the intention of digging; 
merely to see if the hole was inhabited. We intended 
to excavate after we had satisfied ourselves as to 
this. 
However, we began, and after a while got the trees 
out of the way and reached the hole itself. This went 
into the hillside horizontally for about two feet and 
then took a sharp turn to the left and from there went 
straight ahead, it was very hard digging, as the ground 
was full of large stones and the sod cutter was not of 
so much use to us as our hands. 
Where we started the hole was about six_ inches un- 
der the ground, but rapidly deepened till it was two 
feet below the surface. It kept at this depth for_ a 
while, going upward, following the slant of the hill. 
Finally, after cutting many roots and removing many 
stones, we reached a place about eight feet from the 
entrance, where the burrow forked; it was now a ques- 
tion which fork to follow. I said the right; so we fell 
to work on that one. We had gone a short distance 
when my brother brought a stick about five feet long 
and pushed it into the hole. He drew it out and ex- 
amined it, and on the very end were a few hairs. This 
evidently was the right way to the nest. We dug on 
vigorously, and suddenly we gave a start, we had 
heard a noise from the hole— there was something 
there. 
I leaned down and peered in, and could see a lot of 
leaves, evidently a nest. After going a little further 
we pushed the sod cutter far in and pulled down the 
nest, which seemed to be up on a ledge. At first 
nothing came, but all at once I saw a dark object on 
the bottom of the hole; it was crying. We pushed the 
flat blade of the sod cutter under it, and slowly pulled 
it out. At the first glance it resembled a new-born 
kitten, it was blind and apparently a few hours old, and 
was a trifle short of four inches in length. It was dull 
black, with round ears and noticeably large claws. 
I looked back into the hole again and saw two 
more. We took these, and were examining them when 
we heard a rumbling noise. Like a streak of lightning 
tiomething darted through the chamber where the kit- 
tens were found into a third branch of the hole. No 
one could see what it was. We tried to dig it out, but 
we struck an immovable boulder and our progress was 
stopped. . 
The identity of the young ones was and is a mystery. 
They certainly kept us guessing on the way home. 
Every animal was suggested, from a bear to a rabbit, 
but my brother and I were sure they were skunks. 
Fortunately for us there was at home a cat that had 
kittens, but they were almost weaned, and we had our 
doubts about the old cat caring for the little beasts. 
We took away the kittens and put in the small ani- 
mals. The cat smelt them and turned them over a 
couple of times, and then left the box. We were very 
anxious about them, but left them there, and an hour 
afterward, when we returned, the youngsters were 
peacefully taking their dinner and the old cat was per- 
fectly contented. . , , . , , . 
For one day they were with their new mother, but 
it was feared that she might not have milk enough to 
raise them, as her other kittens were so old. 
Happily for us, that very night another cat had three 
kittens. These were promptly drowned and the un- 
knowns now had another mother. With this cat they 
have thriven from the loth of May (the day we found 
them) till the present time. They began opening their 
eyes one week after we got them. May 17. 
At first they were thought to be gray foxes, and some 
still think they are, but now that they are two weeks 
old the general opinion is that they are raccoons. They 
have turned a little lighter color, the head is a little 
brown, decidedly so behind the ears, and there is a 
slight suspicion of their having rings around their 
tails. . 
But the strongest argument against their being 
'coons is that a 'coon, so far as I know, never breeds 
under ground. They make their nests in hollow trees 
or stumps, but friends, who have lived for years in the 
country, say that a 'coon does not breed under ground. 
Perhaps the readers of Forest and Stream can 
throw some light on this question. 
R. Page. 
M11.FORD. Conn.,. May 25. 
The Antelope's Power of Scent. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
I see by the last issue of your paper that Juvenal has 
"heard deer walk." In the remarks which I had made 
some time ago in which I said I had never heard a deer 
walk, and to which, I presume, Juvenal refers, I neg- 
lected to say that all of my experiences among deer had 
been in localities where there were no deciduous 
trees, and consequently no leaves on the ground 
at any time, which might account largely for 
the silent movements of deer which have come 
under my observation, and it might be safe to 
presume that some of those deer which he refers 
to as having heard walk were in dry leaves. Certainly 
the one he refers to as having heard walking at a distance 
of 200 yards must have been tramping on some very 
noisy substance. Thus it is that different experiences are 
often had amid different surroundings and conditions, 
which, if they were all understood, would often save long 
discussions. 
For some years I tried to determine for myself, by 
observation, a fact concerning antelope, and ;arn still not 
quite satisfied, and would like to hear the opinions, based 
on experience, of some Forest and Stream readers. I 
almost decided for myself that an antelope could not scent 
a hunter. 
Of course, all will agree that they do not depend upon 
their nose and ears to detect danger to the same extent 
that deer do, but rely chiefly upon their eyes, while ex- 
actly the reverse is the case with deer, and in all my 
stalking them I never had my presence betrayed by their 
scenting me, although often the wind appeared directly 
from me to them. I never talked to anyone about it until 
once I was out on a hunt for antelope with an old hunting 
and trapping companion, who was experienced as well as 
observing, and one evening he came into camp and said: 
"Do you know I have often doubted whether or not an 
antelope had the power of scenting danger, but now I 
know they can't." He was one of these very positive 
people, and once he was thoroughly convinced of a thing, 
no power on earth could change him. He then told me 
of the occurrence of the day in which he was so thor- 
oughly satisfied that they were unable to scent him, and 
it further strengthened my belief in that direction. 
Emerson Carney. 
BMORGANTOWN, W. Va, 
[The suggestion as to antelope made by Mr. Carney is 
new to us and very interesting, and it is hoped that any- 
one who has made observations bearing on the matter will 
give Forest and Stream readers the benefit of them.] 
Philadelphia Zoological Society. 
The Thirty-first Annual Report of the Board of Direc- 
tors of the Zoological Society of Philadelphia has just 
been printed. It consists of the report by Mr. Arthur 
Erwin Brown, secretary, of the finances and condition 
of the Society, to which is added the results of the inves- 
tigations by Dr. C. B. Penrose, of the pathological condi- 
tions of certain animals which had died during the year. 
At the close of the year the membership of the Society 
was 1,851. The admissions during the year were 252,555, 
to which is to be added 125,000 tickets issued for the 
benefit of pupils of the public schools. The total receipts 
for admissions for the year were $32,476.55, an increase 
over the previous year of nearly $7,000. August was the 
month of greatest attendance, nearly $6,000 having been 
received, and February that of the smallest attendance, 
only about $750 having been received. The receipts for 
May, 1902, were $1,500 more than for May of the previous 
year; those for August, 1902, more than $2,000 than in 
August, 1901. The increase of admission through the 
year was steady. 
During the year 2,450 animals were exhibited, and of 
these 51 species had never previously been shown in the 
gardens. Two very small American deer, one from an 
unknown locality in the Southwest, and the. other from 
Tampico, Mexico, are now regarded as Masama texana, 
Mearns; found from southwestern Texas to the south- 
ward. 
A considerable number of animals were born in the 
garden, of which the most interesting by far were two 
bears, hybrid between a male grizzly and a female black 
bear. Unhappily these were destroyed by the mother 
immediately after birth. They were born February 10. 
Three black bear cubs, bom February 6, were cared for 
by the mother until February 17, when they also were 
destroyed. 
A series of important experiments have been carried 
on by Mr. Brown in the effort to determine the hygienic 
effect upon many tropical and subtropical mammals of 
free access to fresh air and of exposure to variations of 
temperature, greater than usually permitted in zoological 
gardens. Certain African monkeys were exposed to out- 
door air daily during winter, except in stormy weather, 
for periods ranging from ten minutes in very cold weather 
