5cT. ri, 1902.] 
schooner and six 3'oke of cattle thf ougk it fof at least 
ICQ feet. One thing that astonished me was their ability 
to grow very closely together without dettinlental effects 
In several instances 1 Saw trees that were at least 
feet in diameter and perfect twins in appearance, whose 
trunks 100 feet from the ground were less than two feet 
apart, although at that point they were not less than 
8 feet in diameter. According to John Muir, of glacial 
fame, who is the best authority that we have upon the 
sequoias, many of these trees are over S.ooo years old. 
He counted the annual rings of one until he passed the 
4.000 mark, after which the growth was so slow that they 
could only be distinguished by a microscope.. Shades 
of our Simian ancestors! what strange feelings we ex- 
perienced when gazing at a living thing that was a 
stately tree when Joseph was sold into Egypt and Xerxes 
spanned the Hellespont with his bridge of boats; a tree 
that was older than the Pyramids and that antedated the 
glory of Nineveh and Babylon. All around stood pines, 
firs and cedars, moss-grown and decayed, giving every 
indication of extremely old age, and yet the great 
sequoias that counted their years by thousands to the 
others' hundreds, looked as fresh and vigorous as a 
sapling, their beautiful light brown bark free from all 
fungus and their limbs crowded with foliage. 
Sierra Camp, where we passed several very pleasant 
days, was one of the most charming spots we visited. 
Although situated within the park, it is private property, 
under United States patent before the park was set aside 
for public use. The camp is managed by Messrs. Broder 
and Hopping, who are not only thorough mountaineers, 
but also understand perfectly the art of. catering to the 
public. The result is that it is the most popular resort 
in that section, largely patronized by the Sierra Club, 
and v.'hile we were there we had the pleasure of meeting 
men of world-wide reputation, including John Muir, 
Prof. C. Hart Merriam, of Washington, D. C; Wm. 
Keith, the best scenic painter of California; Historian 
Hittell, and two or three others almost as well known. 
There were no houses at Sierra Camp, but quite a 
number of tents, one large one where meals were fur- 
nished at 35 cents each to all who desired them, and 
smaller tents for the use of those wishing to stay there, 
and for which a small rental was charged. Close by and 
belonging to the camp was one of the meadows, a 
characteristic feature of the Sierras, containing eight 
or ten acres, with plenty of water and grass knee high, 
where the stock was pastured. 
We made one side excursion from here to the Marble 
Fork, which abounds with rainbow trout, and enjoyed 
our first taste of these delicious trout fresh from their 
native waters. Here we passed two nights, camping in 
a meadow half a mile from the river and returning on the 
third day to Sierra Camp, where we found a party of over 
fifty members of the Sierra Club, including all the celeb- 
rities above mentioned; several professors and many 
students of the two California colleges, had arrived dur- 
ing our absence from King's River Canyon. They 
were well supplied with pack and saddle animals, and 
had been in the mountains for four or five weeks. That 
evening an immense camp-fire was lighted, around 
which we all sat until after 10 o'clock, listening to vocal 
and instrumental music by the club and short addresses 
from John Muir, and Dr. Merriam, Mr. Muir giving us 
some facts about the sequoias, and the Doctor dwell- 
ing upon the difficulties that were attending the utiliza- 
tion of Mr. Carnegie's munificent gift to the Smith- 
sonian Institution. 
The next morning D. and I went to Moro Rock, three 
miles distant, over a trail heavily shaded by pines and 
firs, mingled with the great sequoias. The rock re- 
sembles the Great South Pome of Yosemite, but is 
only about half its size, and commands one of the finest 
views for the altitude that can be found in the Sierras! 
forest, peak, canon and stream stretch away before the 
vision to the west until they culminate in the San Joa- 
quin Plains. We did not attempt to reach the top, leav- 
ing that for those in whose younger blood the "Excelsior" 
ambition still exists in a state of abnormal activity; but 
halted just below the summit, where the view must have 
been nearly as fine. As we descended we heard a crash 
and snort in the brush, and D. caught a glimpse of a 
brown moving body crossing the trail at the foot of the 
rock. "There goes a deer," he shouted, but a moment 
later the thicket parted, and a brown bear went lumber- 
ing along the timbered slope not 100 yards away. He 
was considerably agitated, and had evidently struck 
our scent, as he crossed the trail. Our guns were sealed 
and at camp, and as no shooting is allowed in the park, 
his great haste was entirely unnecessary. On our return 
trip we gathered a large bouquet of rather small but 
beautiful tiger lilies, with a perfume like a rose, and also 
several of the exquisite snow flowers. At the camp we 
found Mr. O'Neill, Professor of Chemistry at the Cali- 
fornia University, who gave us dried specimens of the 
rare golden trout from Whitney Creek still retaining 
much of the brilliant coloring that distinguishes them 
as the most beautiful of their race. ' 
The next morning we departed for Alta, eleven miles 
distant, and 3,000 feet higher. It was with regret that 
we left Sierra Camp. Its attractive surroundings, ad- 
mirable management and its waters the purest and cold- 
est we had yet found, endeared it to all who found their 
way into this gem of the mountains. 
The grade of the trail soon became very steep, and 
in less than four miles we passed out of the sequoia belt. 
The higher we got the more numerous becatue the 
meadows, and at each of these we invariably found one or 
more flocks of mountain quail, many of which were still 
very young, and in one instance I carefully removed two 
of the fluffy little innocents from the trail to prevent 
their being trodden upon, as they could have been only 
a few hours old. 
Early in the afternoon we made camp in a grove of 
firs at the edge of the Alta meadows, where we were 
joined later by the Sierra Club party from Sierra Camp. 
Directly in front was Mt. Kaweah, the highest peak in 
this section, whose scarred and riven outlines gave strik- 
ing evidence of the destructive power of glacial action. 
Dr. Merriam had with him a very fine camera, of which 
he was so careful that although traveling on horseback 
with plenty of pack animals, he always carried it strap- 
ped to his shoulders, and as the sun went down, throw- 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
lilg the base of this ttoble p«ek into the shadow, he took 
Several pictures of it for himself and for artist Keith. 
With the party Were three ladies, who, having done the 
Kings River country dressed in a kind of bloomer cos- 
tume and riding men's saddles, were now on' their way 
with brave old historian-Hittell to attempt the ascent of 
Mt. Whitney. Seventy-two years old, but hardier than 
most men who are a quarter of a century younger, Mr. 
Hittell finds the fascinations of the Sierras as irresistible 
as ever, and almost every year finds him exploring some 
new district. 
There were no fish to be had here, and our meal for 
that night was one of bacon, friend onions, flapjacks and 
black coffee, while the small boughs of the silver fir 
furnished a couch that in our tired condition wooed us 
to the sweetest of slumbers. 
Not until we reached Alta did we find the meadows 
clothed in their full floral beauty, a picture which once 
seen can never be forgotten. Flowers in untold thou- 
sands, red, yeUow, purple, blue, white, with alinost 
every intermediate shade, lupins, columbines, shooting 
stars, the tawny tiger, and the creamy Mariposa lilies, 
with a host of others whose names we know not, were 
spread before us in a lavish display that I have never 
seen surpassed. These meadows, of which we saw at 
least a score during our subsequent wanderings, varied 
in size from one to ten acres, all the finer ones being at 
an altitude of at least 9,000 feet. Most of them had some 
charm peculiarly their own, but all seemed equally beau- 
tiful. In some there were acres solid with a single color, 
and other acres nearby where another color only could 
be found; next perhaps a meadow where all shades could 
be found on almost every square rod. Hummingbirds 
were always in sight, in numbers only surpassed by 
the bees and butterflies .that everywhere flitted from 
flower to flower. 
It was in the clear brawling streams that came tum- 
bling down through some of these meadows that we 
saw many of the wonderful little water ousels, whose 
aquatic antics we were never tired of watching. Al- 
though apparently no better fitted for the water than a 
sparrow, they seemed to delight to plunge into the 
swiftest rapids and cascades, often disappearing be- 
neath a seething cauldron of foam, where no web-footed 
fowl would have dared to venture, and from which it 
seemed impossible that they could emerge alive, cling- 
ing to submerged rocks where even a lizard could not 
have retained a foothold for a moment. The water, and 
not the air, seemed their natural element. We saw none 
of these below an elevation of 8,000 feet. 
Forked Deer. 
[to be continued.] 
In the Faroe Islands. 
Third Paper. 
We have thirty species of birds nesting on Myggenoes, 
but in numbers the "lundy" or puffin takes an easy first. 
Sixty thousand are sometimes caught in a single season, 
but this year's catch will probably not exceed ten thou- 
sand. The birds are not as plentiful as usual, and north 
winds blowing steadily during the snaring time have kept 
tbem out at sea. I have stayed long enough at Myggenoes 
to see two of the methods of capturing the puffins — the 
taking of the females from the burrows before the eggs 
are hatched, and the "fleining" or snaring of the non- 
breeding birds with a net attached to a long pole as they 
fly to and from the crags. A few weeks later will come 
the "fygling," when a man descends from the summit of 
the cliffs, fastened to a line held by five men, and snares 
the birds as they pass him in mid-air, or creeps along 
the ledges to the places where the birds are most 
numerous. 
One morning the schoolmaster and I went to "lundi- 
landet" or puffin land, he warning me not to look sea- 
ward. Our foothold was secure enough, but it is not well 
to give one's thoughts rein, and wonder how far below 
the sea is and how steep the cliffs. The schoolmaster is 
wise in birds. The authorities of the Natural History 
Museum in Copenhagen have appointed him an official 
observer, and every day he notes down all the species seen 
by himself and reported by trustworthy persons. Myg- 
genoes is the most western island of the Faroe group; 
and on Naalsoe, the most eastern one, a man is also taking 
daily notes. In this way much valuable material has al- 
ready been accumulated, for the Faroes make a favorite 
resting place for birds migrating to and from Iceland and 
the Polar lands. 
Puffins are not particular about the location of their 
nests. All they ask is to be near the sea, and to have 
enough earth in which to dig a burrow. They live in 
the filled-up chinks of crags, in the debris at the base, in 
steep grassy slopes, or among the rugged hillsides. When 
the wind is in a favorable direction, thousands fill the air 
like a snowstorm of brown and white flakes. A puffin is 
a delightful bird; he seems always to be enjoying some 
private joke, and chuckling over it to himself with a jolly 
"U-r-r-r-r! Ur-r-r-r-r!" The schoolmaster and I sat 
down by their burrows in a sunny hollow, where pink and 
white catch-fly, spotted orchis, buttercups, sea pinks and 
white bed -straw grew in profusion, and soon the birds 
collected all around us. No shooting is permitted in 
puffin land, and they are very tame. In double rows they 
sat on every stone and boulder, their round, white breasts 
shining like strings of pearls, their glossy backs and 
wings reflecting the blues and violets of the sky. They 
chortled and chuckled, watched us with their heads on 
one side,- and trotted about exchanging gossip about us. 
I found them most diverting and declared that I was com- 
ing to puffin land every day. But I never returned. The 
schoolmaster had neglected to tell me that puffins are 
afflicted with two kinds of ticks — one like the larger wood 
tick found in June in our American forests, and the other 
a little spidery creature that is very poisonous. We had 
rested long close to their burrows, and during the next 
twenty-four hours I thought hard thoughts of the school- 
master, and how a puffin can seem so happy is a mystery. 
Several men were at work near us taking the birds 
from the burrows. A bright little dog was giving valu- 
able assistance. If a hole was occupied, he scratched and 
dug at the entrance, and a man then inserted a short Stick 
28B 
with a hook at the end, dragged out the puffin and wrung 
its neck. A painful bite can be given with the strong 
sharp beak, and without the "lundy-krog" a tnan's hands 
would be in bad condition after dragging out several hun- 
dred birds. I am told that when the ravens and hooded 
crows enter the burrows, the poor little mother' shrinks 
back in helpless fright, allowing her eggs or young to be 
stolen without trying to defend them. 
On a steep slope above the sea were two men, fastened 
together by a rope about thirty feet in length. One had 
seated himself on a secure bit of ground, bracing his fjeld 
staff in the rocks or earth below him, while the other 
climbed about exploring the lower burrows. The grass 
was slippery with a recent shower, and they were near 
the verge of cliffs two hundred feet in height. It seemed 
very dangerous to me. "But surely," I snid to the school- 
master, "one man could not hold up the other if , he fell. 
At least four men would be needed to support his weight." 
"Oh, he will not fall, really," replied the schoolmaster. 
"If he slips, he can save himself in time with the aid of 
the rope." "But," I persisted, "if he should fall?" I 
was given to understand, however, that this could not be 
taken into consideration. The business of a good fjeld 
man is to make no blunders. 
On these slopes, and in this way, the young Myg- 
genoeser tries his 'prentice hand with a stout strong 
father or uncle at the other end of the rope. He begins 
when he is thirteen or fourteen, and later learns to wield 
the snaring net and pole, first from the crags and after- 
ward suspended in mid-air by the line. He graduates, if 
he is brave and skillful, at eighteen or twenty, on the 
most dangerous of all bird catching, that of the "sula" or 
gannet, at night, on the treacherous cliffs of Myggenoes 
Holm, an island close to the main island of Myggenoes. 
A few days ago I was shown the puffin snaring by a 
Myggenoeser called "Johannes of the Albatross" (and 
by that name hangs a tale). I climbed with the assist- 
ance of Johannes to the edge of a precipice, where I sat, in 
much trepidation, though firmly wedged in between two 
recks. Johannes was perched on a ledge close by me, 
and seemed quite fearless and at ease, though I could not 
see why he did not fall off every time he swooped at a 
puffin. He had need of a quick eye to enable him to take 
only bachelor and spinster puffins. If a bird held a little 
shining fish in its beak, that indicated that babies were 
at home waiting to be fed, and it must not be killed. 
When a puffin was brought in snarling and gurgling in 
the net, I looked the other way, and Johannes wrung its 
neck. In one morning he caught seventy-five, but had the 
wind been east or west, that is, a 'long-shore breeze, sev- 
eral hundred might have been snared, 
Myggenoes ranks perhaps first of all the Faroe bird 
islands, with puffins as her specialty. Store Deinun, a 
guillemot island, comes next. All the edible sea fowl, ex- 
cept the gannet, are foimd in varying numbers on all 
the islands. A few years ago, the annual catch was esti- 
mated at 235,000, but it must fall short of that at the 
present time. 
Thirteen out of the thirty species of birds nesting on 
Myggenoes remain all the year— eider ducks, marsh snipe, 
black-backed gull, black guillemot, cormorant, rock dove, 
hooded crow, raven, starling, northern wren, two kinds of 
titlarks and common gull. The migratory breeding birds 
are the curlew, whimbrel, guillemots, oyster catcher, kitti- 
wake, golden plover, razorbill auks, stormy petrel, puffins, 
gannets, stonechat, white wagtail, jacksnipe, scoter, Arctic 
skuas and several species of gulls and terns. About forty 
other species are seen in the spring and autumn migra- 
tions, swans, geese, ducks, thrushes and other small 
birds, hawks, loons and sea fowl. This year a pair of 
comcrackers have favored Myggenoes with their presence. 
We are sure they must have a nest here, otherwise why 
should they spend June and July on the island? We can 
hear their "crake-crake"' all night long, but the school- 
master, in spite of his untiring watchings, has not caught 
a glimpse of him. The other Myggenoesers, many of 
them keen observers, do not aid him in his vigils, for do 
they not know that whoever sees a corncrake will die 
within the year? 
I notice that many of the birds go to rest about 10 :30 or 
II o'clock, and wake up at i :30 or 2. The titlarks, how- 
ever, and the stonechats, marsh snipe and our corncrake 
visitors, seem never to sleep unless they take catnaps in 
the middle of the day. The schoolmaster says that about 
one-fourth of the kittiwakes are as busy as in the day- 
time. They seem to take turns in sleeping, and at any 
hour of night I can hear their pecuhar barking and 
crying notes. 
Myggenoes Holm, the only breeding place in the Faroes 
of the gannet, is divided from the main island by a 
chasm twenty fathoms in width. The only landing place 
is perhaps an eighth of a mile away, and as the surf often 
prevents any going or coming for weeks at a time, a strong 
line has been stretched across the chasm to enable men to 
«ross, and food to be sent at the seasons of bird catch- 
ing and sheep gathering. The island is about half a mile 
in length, and the grass grows unusually thick and sweet. 
Sheep live there all the year round, and twenty-five or 
thirty oxen from April until December. Then they are 
brought home to spend three months imder shelter. In 
the autumn before the worst storms set in, several are 
killed and sent to Thorshavn, where "Myggenoes beef" is 
held in high esteem. 
I made the acquaintance of these oxen under painful 
circumstances. The schoolmaster had given me glowing 
accounts of the beauty of the gannets, and of course I 
wished to visit the Holm. But we waited two weeks 
before the surf allowed us to venture. Then Herr Abra- 
hamsen, the schoolmaster and I set forth the first quiet 
morning with a fishing crew which had agreed to land us 
and call for us on their return from the cod grounds. 
We climbed over the tang-covered rocks and found our- 
selves in a nursery of Arctic terns or "tedna." There 
were hundreds of nests, and with difficultv we avoided 
treading on the olive and brown spotted eggs, so closely 
did they resemble the lichens and mosses around them. 
All along the coast were kittiwake colonies. I crept as 
near as I dared to the edge of the cliffs, and ly ng down 
and peering over, found myself close to the upper tiers of 
nests. Such pretty dainty creatures the kittiwakes are ! 
1 never tire of watching them as they sit on the nests, so 
spotless in their soft gray jackets and white hoods and 
bibs. I had just arisen from a kittiwake invcFtigation 
