r:r466 
FOREST AND » STREAM. 
[June 13, 1903. 
ceeds of sale 650 pounds confiscated fish, $6.50; May 25, 
proceeds of safe 14 confiscated beaver skins, $112; May 
30, proceeds of sale 140 confiscated deer hides, $175-971 
total, $29447- E, Hough. 
Hartford Building, Chicago, 111. 
Game Notes on Varietal Species. 
PLAiNFreLD, Mass., June i. — The increase of game in 
this northwestern section of Massachusetts is notable 
from year to year. The center of the accretion seems to 
be in Worthington township, fifteen miles away, where 
two deer, a bear, a black fox, and a cross fox are re- 
ported as havinjT been seen last week. Woodchucks are 
numerous. One dog in Plainfield has an annual score 
of 25 or more to his credit. Red foxes are common in 
this township, with now and then a 'coon. Trout of 
larger size than usual have been caught this spring, and 
more of them. The deer law is perplexing. Last summer 
and fall a deer ran with the cattle of one of our farmers 
located between here and Hawley until cold weather 
came. Then the winds blew and the snow flew and the 
kind-hearted farmer would fain have taken the poor crea- 
ture in out of the cold and given him shelter with its 
bovine associates. But the la%v forbade the having of 
deer in possession, and no motives of humanity could 
condone such offense; so the barn door was shut! But 
care was taken to leave the door of a shed open, and in 
that the forlorn animal took refuge on occasion. Had 
that door blown shut by anj-^ chance and the deer been 
found within, a fine of $25 w^ould have been impending. 
As we can neither protect nor kill our deer, nor have 
them in possession, nor ward off their ravages when they 
become too numerous, we are in a dilemma, and begin 
to wonder what game laws are really for. In many of 
our States they are principally used by protectors, war- 
dens, and informers to levy blackmail and exploit their 
vigilance, especially in respect to strangers and sports- 
men of means who trespass unadvisedly. In Plainfield 
we have no known spies or sneaks, officials or volunteers; 
but there may be such in perdu. Our townsmen are too 
busy to do much fishing, though they show up to ad- 
vantage in the shooting season. 
But we have queer animals which are not wild. This 
town has been a nursery for Manx and Angora cats for 
seventy years past, and the crosses which have resulted 
astonish the naturalists. For example, we have Maltese 
brown, *iTiottled, striped and dark colored cats with long 
hair on body and tail, but seldom a pure white one. There 
are smooth coated cats with broad shaggy tails, and rough 
coated cats with no tails at all. The latest freak is a 
Maltese no-tail mongrel which comes from a shaggy 
"tiger cat" mother ; four crosses in one, each distinctly 
thrown out by heredity. It would be interesting to know 
how far back its Manx progenitor lived. 
By the w-ay, on page 103 of Paul du Challu's "Land of 
the Long Night," he mentions a strain of tailless dogs 
which are used for draft purposes by the nomadic Lapps, 
who herd reindeer. They have the color of a brown bear. 
Perhaps a mixture of dog, bear and hyena. Qui sait? 
An animal has been seen in a clover field here which 
looks like a woodchuck with the bushy tail of a fox ! 
When surprised at its feeding place it makes for a 
scrubby knoll where there arc several woodchuck bur- 
rows. The boys are .planning to trap it, but the farmer's 
wife fears it may prove to be one of her stray bushy- 
tailed long-haired cats. These varietal freaks offer a fine 
field for those who have wrought themselves into a fever 
over the sea trout problem! Let's change the subject. 
C. H. 
The Stfongf Arm of the Law. 
From Newburgh, N. Y., come these records of recent 
game law cases brought by Protector Kidd : Geo. Louns- 
berry, of Newburgh, pleaded guilty before Justice Fowler 
to tile charge of having quail during the close season. 
He paid a fine of $10. 
The case of the People vs. Richard Franks, of Tuxedo 
Park, was to have been tried in the Supreme Court. The 
defendant was charged with killing deer during the close 
season. Before it came to trial, Mr. Franks settled by 
paying to the Game Commission $143.50. 
O. S. Faulkner, of New Kingston, Delaware county, 
paid a fine of $50 for having trout in his possession dur- 
ing the close season. There are others implicated in this 
case, and they will be prosecuted later. Taking game 
out of season is becoming a pretty expensive pastime in 
this vicinity. 
Modern Rifle Shooting^. 
"Modern Rifle Shooting from the American Stand- 
point," by W. G. Hudson, M.D., is the latest and soundest 
contribution to the literature of the rifle, both concerning 
its theory and practice, which has appeared in many 
months. 
Considering that Dr. Hudson has been a successful 
investigator on original lines both scientific and empiri- 
cal; that his researches have produced many valuable re- 
sults.; and that he is in the front rank of practical rifle- 
men, as is in conspicuous evidence in the records, his 
introductory paragraph in the preface is too modest, when 
he writes as follows: "It is not without some misgiving 
that I venture on this, my first attempt to write a book 
on rifle shooting." That is the modesty of true genius. 
The title does not contain the true idea. Instead of 
"from the American standpoint," it should have been 
from the universal standpoint, because its theory is from 
universal natural laws. 
The work in question contains 154 pages, divided into 
thirteen chapters and an appendix, which treats of rifles, 
bullets, selecting a rifle, equipment of a rifleman, sights, 
sighting and aiming, adjusting sights, aiming, helps to 
good aiming, positions, targets, ammunition, personal as 
to the rifleman himself. National Rifle Association, and 
an appendix which gives a comprehensive lot of informa- 
tion on incidental practical accessories to shooting, such 
as cleaning shells, lubricants, anti-rust grease, nitro 
cleaner, measures, appliances, tools, ranges, etc. The 
work is copyrighted by Laflin & Rand Powder Co., New 
York, and in it is contained more accurate knowledge 
than the unassisted riflemaTi gouUl acquire in a lifetime. 
Proprietora of fishinc resorts will Had it proCtable to advertiM 
tbem in Fokbst aitd Stskam. 
Canoe* and Camp Life Along the 
Delaware River. 
XI. — StalkiDg Wfaippoofwills» Algaet Mosses, Ferns atd 
Lichens at Delaware Water Gap. 
"The air o' the woods tastes good tu me, fer 't hain't been 
breathed by nothin' but wild creettirs. The smell o' the woods 
smells good tu me, dead leaves 'n' spruce boughs, 'u' rotten 
wood, 'n' it don't hurt none if it 's spiced up a leetle bit with 
skunk an' mink, an' weasel an' fox p'fum'ry. An' 1 Iviffter see 
trees 'at's older'n any men, an' graound 't wa'n't never ploawcd 
cr hoed, a-growin' nat'ral crops. 'N' I lufftcr hear the still- 
ness of the woods, fer 't is still there. Wind a-sythin', leaves 
a-rustlin', brooks a-runnin', birds a-singin', even a bluejay a- 
squallin', hain't noises." — Sam Lovel in Rowland E. Robinson's 
"Uncle Lisha's Shop." 
Water alga;, moss and fern, 
Greet us now at every turn, 
And rocks whose faces gray and hoary. 
Guard the secrets of their story; 
While o'er them tiny lichens strew 
Tenderest thoughts of shape and hue! 
"The finest bass yet!" cries my chum, as he helps 
an urchin pull in a fish that "tips the scale" at nearly 
four pounds. He was taken in the deep water by the 
rocks, crowned with woods, above the Susquehatma 
bridge on the Jersey side at the Water Gap. 
We are using a new boat, just a dqry; for the canoe 
and tent are stored on the upper river; and we are at 
the Glenwood House at the Gap — temporary quarters, 
chosen because our families will not tent with us 
(more's the pity), and because the unmolested squir- 
rels, robins, chipmunks and blackbirds live in and 
around the trees that hide the hotel, giving remarkable 
chances for observing wild life from its porches. I 
have heard a guest imitate the call of the female quail, 
and seen three of the birds flying into the trees, as 
they answered with their "up all night!" not a hundred 
feet away from the house. 
It is remarkable how wild life fringes even the busiest 
centers of civilization. I have stood on the Battery 
wall at the lower end of Manhattan Island, one of over 
JUST TO MAKE AN ISLAND. 
a thousand interested watchers of two boats fastened 
with ropes to rings in the wall, and not forty feet 
away, while four anglers in them landed large flounders 
— thirty-seven for the four rods in the twenty minutes 
that I counted and timed them. There are two sea 
gulls among the hundreds that love and haunt the East 
River many months of the year, with whom a certain 
Brooklyn man has a personal acquaintance. He calls 
them "Blue Mary" and "White Jim;" they know on 
what ferry boat he will leave the Brooklyn side, and 
will follow the boat even into the New York slip, un- 
til he throws them the two biscuits taken for them 
from his breakfast table. 
Kindness, long and patiently offered, will win enough 
confidence of even a partridge, to reap the rich reward 
of seeing him perch himself on a log, and drum his 
love-call of the spring. Buckwheat kernels spread for 
him there during two winters, and crumbs and pop- 
corn kernels during the summer, will' result in his per- 
mission that you lie behind some log a hundred feet 
distant, peer over it at this wild elf of the wilderness 
and his mate; and hear their love-notes, "k-e-e-t! 
k-w-e-e-t! If you persist in this kindness, and place 
food near the discovered nest, the couple will even 
linger around its site after their brood is hatched, and 
will visit you as you walk along fence or hedgerow, just 
to see what you are about, the fledglings following 
tbem, half-grown. Before me is a photograph of about 
a hundred feet of the White Horse trail in Alaska, 
showing a grouse, which had become almost the friend 
of the angler who lingered long beside that nameless 
trout-brook, which crossed the road where so much of 
hope, ambition, tragedy and wealth had passed, before 
the railroad was constructed. 
This is digression; yet it leads to the incident of the 
whippoorwills at the Gap. One of the birds had been 
singing in the woods along the rocks below which the 
bass was secured. A quiet watch for her just before 
sunset, located one of her nightly perches— an upturned 
tree root beside a thicket. The next evening I hid in 
that clump of brush. Just after sundown came the 
low swish of her almost silent wings, right beside me. 
There was Mrs. Whippoorwill, not six feet distant — a 
gray, ghostly, somber bird! 
She spread lier feet far apart, and began to rock her 
body sidewise, this motion increasing as her head was 
tilted far back; and then came the familiar cry! 
I say familiar. But it sounded far different when I 
could almost extend my hand and secure the bird. We 
hear the call of the whippoorwill, perhaps two miles 
distant, and when we are oti porches, riding along coim- 
try roads, or from boats that we ply on lakes or rivers. 
Then the sound seems plaintive to many listeners — 
passionate, melancholy. The song has been called the 
Miserere Hymn of the Night, expressing grief, longing, 
heart-broken weariness. To nearly all, this song is 
sad. But to me the cry of this bird has always seemed 
assertive, strident, brave, and as full of life and health as 
the crow of a rooster. 
And the cry was deafening as I heard it scarcely an 
arm's length distant. It was continued about ten min- 
utes, when the bird flew way, and I heard its 
call from some dark perch in the woods on the 
island a mile above. Presently the song ceased, and was 
renewed still farther away. In about thirty minutes 
came the swish and moonlight shadow, and ri.ght be- 
side me was the bird again, renewing that love-call — 
the note cast out into the ni.ght for the male bird! 
Plaving confirmed this by observations elsewhere, I 
state that a female whippoorwill has three calling 
perches, on each of which she sings about fifteen miti- 
utes, and then renews the perch cycle, singing until 
weary, or until the male bird comes. 
There, again, I saw their meeting — the two birds side 
by side, after a chase and coquettish exchange of the 
indescribably soft, low and quick love-notes. 
Their "nest" is sure to be hidden away in some thicket 
or tuft of grass on a hillside, not far distant from one 
of these perches; and nothing could be more ghostly 
and weird than the female bird, clad seemingly in sack- 
cloth and ashes. If she is scared off her "nest," she 
tumbles and glides slowly along and among the plants 
and .grass, leading you away. 
There is an all but universal conviction that the sound 
of the whippoorwill's song is mournful — sad. This belief 
is due to the fact that The song is so often heard far 
away, and during the sentimental hours of morning or 
evening twilight, or at night. Besides, the self-deception 
is facilitated by the fancied words in the bird's cry of 
"poor Will," who must be "whipped." Yet the marvelous 
looker and listener, Audubon, writes of his_ memories of 
the song as he lay in his sleeping-blanket in the woods, 
alone : 
"Only think, kind reader, how grateful to me must 
have been the cheering voice of this, my only companion." 
It is another almost universal belief that only the 
male bird sings the "whippoorwill!" The main object 
of this special article is to confirm, or help to dissipate, 
this belief. Its statements that only the female so sings 
will probably be challenged; and to assist those who may 
contradict, the following facts in support of this_ con- 
tention are given now. There will be no further discus- 
sion by me. 
Only two ornithologists should be allowed to speak 
with authority here. Audubon dodges the matter, only 
leferring to "its" song and "their" song. See American 
Birds, Vol. I., p. 155, et seq. So do the encyclopedias. 
Wilson (American Ornithology, Vol. II., p. 176), 
shows how the naturalists themselves confounded the 
whippoorwill with the chuck-will's widow, night hawk, 
and goatsucker. In attempting to settle those differences 
of opinion, and errors in the pictured birds, he cites a 
magazine, the "Portfolio," wherein it is alleged that the 
author of "American Ornithology" stated that a male 
whippoorwill was shot (note that such author does not 
say he shot the bird ; and it was probably by an attendant 
who killed the wrong mate of a pair of birds that were 
together) while in actual song, and that the shot bird was 
found to be a male. This is the real and totally insufli- 
cient source of the statements by subsequent writers that 
the singer is the male. 
Many of the books about birds in the Astor Library 
have been consulted in this connection. I do not find in 
them any positive assertion of personal knowledge that 
the male" bird sings. Indeed, the "question" is of little 
practical moment. But it is singular that so general a be- 
lief rests on such slender actual observation. The New 
York Museum of. Natural History did not express an 
opinion, but referred me to the well-known nature- 
student, Mr. Ernest Ingersoll, who states that his studies 
of the song have been mainly by ear in the woods of 
Ulster county. New York, where he could see (the italics 
are his) very little, owing to the dense forest and 
shadows. Of course Forest and Stream will invite and 
welcome communications from those who have actually 
seen a singing male whippoorwill, or better still, who 
have shot and can produce a male observed to be singing 
when killed. It should be remembered that the sex of the 
bird is easily told by the markings of plumage across 
the throat, which are a white semi-circle on the male, 
and smaller and of a cream or buff color on the female, 
whose general size is also slightly smaller. The female 
is lighter on the upper parts, and her three lateral tail 
feathers are tipped for about three-fourths of an inch 
with cream color. Both birds have a comb on the central, 
longest claw of one foot to assist in ridding the plumage 
of A'ermin. 
Here is luy own experience : 
Location, just after sunset, of one of the three perches 
of song. Concealment the next and following nights, 
sometimes within six feet, and the birds seen so plainly 
that the hairs around their bills could be noted in detail. 
Notation of the butf markings across the throat of twelve 
different female birds while actually singing. These 
stalkings were at intervals during thirty years, and in 
five States. 
In addition, three females were shot (they are excellent 
eating) while actually singing, and their sex verified by 
the most careful demonstration. The first bird was shot 
on the Slagle trout stream in Michigan; another in But- 
ler, Branch county, Michigan, and a third on Saw 
Creek, in Pennsylvania. In 1870 a female was watched 
as she nested in an unused shanty of a sugar-bush, right 
on the leaves of its floor, where they had been blown 
the previous autumn. Four persons saw and heard her 
sing while beside the nest. Finally, on Saw Creek, in Maj-, 
igoo, a pair of the birds flew right across the porch of the 
Decker cottage, the male pursuing and uttering his low 
love -notes very rapidly. These birds perched right on 
