see 
FOREST AND STRfiAM. 
Kov. S, 1902.1 
all day is not exercise to whet one's appetite for broiled 
pheasant. On canoe trips, where the exercise is violent. 
I usually live largely on broiled meats, but when trav- 
eling overland in warm weather prepared foods with 
fruits are more suitable. 
A small rill a short distance back on the trail fur- 
nishes the water. It is soon at the boiling point, and 
carefully measuring out a handful of ground coffee I 
put it in the pot. Then, to make my calculations sure. 
I pour in a stream from the sack. This mode of mak- 
ing a cinch of a good thing I learned from a friend with 
whom I used to hunt ducks in the old muzzleloading 
days. He used a very heavy ten-gauge gun, and his 
unvarying load of black powder was "Six_draVns and a 
stream." 
Supper is soon over. The things are cleared away 
and I unlimber my hunting trunk, take out and set up 
my gold medal cot and spread my blankets on it. I 
am aware that in all well-conditioned stories of camp life 
the iirst thing after supper one should light his pipe, but 
truth has a stronger hold on me than custom, and I 
am compelled to own that I had no pipe. I had re- 
solved not to pitch the tent but to sleep in the open air. 
This still further extended the idle time usually filled 
in with smoke and stories, between supper and bed. 
As I had neither pipe nor companion, I passed a part 
of the interim by taking my gun from its case and as- 
sembling it ready for use. Just why I should have done 
so on this night more than on any other is a mystery 
to this day. 
On what slender threads of chance have depended 
some of the greatest events in history! A random 
thought gave birth to Thanatopsis. But for the mere 
incident of Isaac Newton taking his nooning under an 
apple tree, water would still be running up hill; m 
which case, what of our duck marshes? 
Had I been a lover of weed and brought my pipe 
along, the stirring events of this night might not have 
occurred. 
If some drifting fancy had not put it mto my head 
to assemble my gun, how different might have been the 
termination of my adventure! 
I have just laid the gun across the foot of my cot and 
started to replenish the fire, when my attention is at- 
tracted by one of the mules. He has backed away from 
the bush to which he is tied, as far as the rope will 
permit, and is sitting on his haunches, snorting and 
trembling with terror. 
Picking up the gun again, I slip a couple of target 
shells into it and walk in the direction the mule's ears 
point to see what has startled him. The sun has been 
down for some little while; a full moon has climbed 
well above the eastern horizon. The long, pointed 
shadow of a lone pine is just beginning to make itself 
discernible- across the glade, while from the deeper gloom 
of the dense forest down in a valley to the north 
comes the insistent cry of a whip-poor-will. The day, 
which has been oppressive, has given way to a beauti- 
ful night, the wind in the poplar leaves produces a 
soothing 'cadence; but from the way in which Jack 
surges on his rope and snorts, he is evidently not tak- 
ing much notice of this. 
What can it be? At first I can discern nothing as i 
look across the glade and scan the bushes closely along 
the opposite side. But a rustling in the wdd-pea -vines 
j.ust in front of me causes me to glance in that direc- 
tion. Though I ncA^er saw a panther in my life one 
glance at that long, lithe body and swaying tail told 
at once the nature of our visitor. -r t u j 
I was as well acquainted with him then as if i had 
associated with him for years. It is astonishing how 
familiar one becomes with birds and animals one has 
never seen through the magic of good black ink. Here 
was a gentleman, a perfect stranger, yet his countenance 
and every move were as well known to me as if 1 had 
lived next-door neighbor to him all my life. Aside 
from this recognition. I knew jnst what to expect from 
him. I had not read the "Leather Stocking and bke 
tales in vain. 
Though the gun I held in my hand, a light twelve- 
gauge Parker, had always been regarded by me as a 
toy rather than as a defensive weapon, and I had some 
misgiving on that score, I was perfectly sure of myselt. 
My nerves, which usually become unstrung on the slight- 
est provocation, were steady as the solid earth beneath 
me I never went to score to shoot a mud pie, even for 
fun without being more or less flustered; but here 1 
was face to face with an animal that has sent a thrill 
of terror to the hearts of the bravest and most renowned 
hunters, yet I was as unmoved as a lighthouse. 
I remember all the tales I have ever heard of the 
ferocity of this beast as I get into position and stand 
at readv, waiting for the bird to fly. It be a one- 
bird ra'ce, thirty-foot rise, privilege of both barrels. 
And the stakes are high— a mule and a man on the 
on hand and the life of an individual who practically 
owns the earth on the other. A vast difference to be 
sure- and the bird certain to be an incomer. Ihmk ot 
this regal creature laying his life against mine. He 
whose day has been one continual round of conquest, 
who has never for a moment known thrall, whose sleek 
coat has never become frayed or worn and whose sus- 
pender buttons have never flown off at critical times ; 
whose every want has been supplied without effort other 
than that we of the meaner clay call sport; whose 
every movement has been free and untranimeled; and 
whose inheritance, compared to that of a Gould, is as 
the universe to the atom. Think, I say, of this prince 
of creation playing all this against my miserable exist- 
Against such a roval hazard I could only place my 
life of gradgrind and eternal thraldom, a hfe never since 
boyhood free for an instant- from the shadow of want 
and unrealized ambition. No matter how far I may 
wander into the wilderness, in the feeble effort to mu- 
tate the life of my noble adversary, the chains that bind 
me to the needs and customs of man are ever clanking 
behind me I have tried to shake them off and be like 
him but all in vain; the stream cannot rise higher 
thati its source. He is the, true sportsman, I the imi- 
tator He has never slam, simply to boast of his 
achievements to his fellows later on. He never hunts 
for the pot Neither has he committed any acts of van- 
4alxsm, but has taken Nature as he found it. fresh 
from the hand of tlie Creator, admired it and left it so. 
All these things his feeble imitators do. They kill 
what they do not want that they may boast. Then they 
grow jealous of each other's boasting and make rules 
to regulate their killing, then counter rules; until they 
are tangled up in a network of rules and flounder about 
like flies in molasses, each madly jealous of the others: 
"We have a passion, make a law 
Too false to guide us or control ; 
And {or the law itself we fight 
In bitterness of soul."' 
I had reasoned the matter out on these lines and was 
about to thrown down my gim and capitulate to my 
superior, when it occurred to me that I had not taken 
the mules into my calculations. They were slaves, of 
course, like myself, and wearing the shackles of civi- 
lized life, but entitled to some consideration in striking 
a balance. 
I had not decided in my own mind which were the 
worthier, three slaves or a free man, when my calcula- 
tions were brought to an end hy the bird taking wing. 
This stampeded all reasoning; brute instinct took the 
floor and won out in favor of me and the mules. 
Flat as a shingle, straight at my throat, the panther 
sailed through the air, his mouth wide open and his hot 
breath singeing my flowing beard to a charred stubble. 
Yet, with my chest thrown out, my eye hard and dis- 
dainful as a cold chisel, like a minor peak of the Rocky 
Mountains, I awaited his frightful onslaught. Truth 
compels me to add, however, that there is one slight 
speck trpon the perfect picture I have drawn — I felt 
a trifle in doubt as to the efficacy of my three dr^ms of 
Dupont Smokeless and No. 7 shoi. 
Holding my fire until he had passed the meridian of 
his flight and was sweeping down upon ms 'ike a 
meteor, I aimed at his throat jnst between the nether 
jaws and pressed the trigger. Though I had decided 
on no plan of action, the second barrel followed ihe 
first so quickly that both charges entered the animal's 
gullet at the same spot, making a hole little larger than 
the bore of the gun. 
The shock of the discharges turned the beast a com- 
plete somersault, and he landed squarely on his back 
with his tail between my feet. Had not the force of the 
shot checked his impetus, he would have been a "dead 
out"; as it was I scored, though by a very close mar- 
gin. Panthers are easy when you meet them in the 
right way. . , ■ , ^ 
I don't know how the fin-de-siecle sportsman might 
view it, but I made the best argument I could to myself 
in favor of myself and dropped the subject, after which 
I roused up and began to prepare my cot for sleep 
Dreaming, did you say? No: I had just been telling 
myself a story to pass away the evening. 
The Pakson. 
Seaboard Air Line.— VIII. 
To Nov. if i902. 
By May 25 ovtr northern patrons had passed along,, 
and with many of our summer regulars for company, we 
started the season of 1902. 
Vegetation was backward, owing to the lagging sprmg 
weather; hence much nest-building that usually de- 
velops unseen, was patent to the eyes of any who cared 
to give even a passing glance in faring along our high- 
wavs. 
In general, we had many hundred more of our native 
residents who bred and sported and sang for us than in 
many years. A pair of onrdinals located nearby about 
the middle of August, and practically all day long the 
inspiring slogan of the male rang from the treetops, 
now here, now there, as the shy creatures stole about 
in successful endeavor to avoid the scrutiny of the- 
passer-by, whose curiosity was aroused by the clear 
accents of these "artful dodgers." Like the evasive 
voice of our yellow-breasted chat, the cardinal's whistle 
is an uncertain quantity to reckon with in locating the 
bird, as it possesses the same ventriloquial power— though 
to a less extent than that our "chatt-y" friend who 
loves to poke about the bushes and low shrubbery. 
Aug. 25, crystal clear skies, with a light air from N. 
by E. ; was a marked day in our orderly routine of 
summer bird business. At 10 A. M., while revelling m 
the glorious harmony of the outside world, there came 
a peculiar "h-i-ss" of wings that awakened boyhood 
memories with a sudden surge that brought me to my 
feet with the mental cry of "wild pigeons." Low down, 
just clearing the treetops, my startled eyes caught the 
swift, graceful, onward sweep, the old-time formation 
in close order, the clipping wing stroke of a huge flock 
of — wild doves (Z. carolinensis (L.)). There were at 
least ISO of them, where bound — they flew N.E. — or 
how so many of them came in company I cannot say. 
Never have I seen more than seven or eight together 
in this locality before, the usual appearing of this bird 
having been in pairs, or, at most, in little companies. 
Old timers who read these notes will sympathize with 
me in my momentary excitement, for vsrho among them 
can ever forget that sibilant sound of filling all the air 
of dawn in the days of long ago, when the wild pigeons 
boomed along overhead. This peculiar swish or hiss 
of wings was as much an accompaniment of the flight 
of the "vanished race" as the whistle of an up-springing 
woodcock is an inseparable accompaniment m all men- 
tal pictures of days afield in pursuit of this also fast 
vanishing game bird. Science recognizes two minds in 
the man: the objective and the subjective. They tell us 
"the subjective mind never forgets an impression once 
received," so I have to thank my subjective mind for 
that renewal of impulse, for that sudden start as the 
sibilant rush of wings overhead brought back in one 
vivid moment — a far cry frotn tlie past— the living, mov- 
ing reality of the long "vanished race." 
During all the fine days we were favored with in 
September, the mosquito hawks were prevalent, in 
fact, unusually so, often on clear days with northerly 
winds, at an immense height in the clear sky, above the 
low-lying blue haze of bituminous coal smoke, that al- 
ways drifts over us from the city when the wind is in 
the N. Two woodcock only this season; there may 
have been more, but I can vouch for two only — ^July 
IS and again Oct. 7 — poor lonely chicks, soon they 
win also be "back numbers." Our annual flight of 
hawks was a general affair, a scattered passing from 
Sept. 19 to Oct. 2, owing to prevailing N. and E. 
winds and a generally upset state of weather conditions. 
During the past few weeks of gorgeous autumn days, 
big fellows, little fellows, in bright, and a,gain in modest 
attire of dun, russet and gray, have traveled along 
melodiously, both by night and day. To-day, while the 
sunlight is playing' in glowing color on the fast chang- 
ing foliage, the distant squall of a belated bluejay serves 
to emphasize the departure of our feathered friends, 
while again and again the call of passing bluebirds, 
themselves unseen— a part of the clottdless sky — tempers 
the chill silence of the outside world. 
WlLMOT TOWNSEND. 
A Silver Tip Family, 
A sketch contributed to "Trail and Camp Fire," one of the "Books 
of the Boone and Crockett Club." 
Most of my hunting of grizzlies was in the Big Horn 
Mountains, in 1880, 1881, 1882 and 1883, at a time when 
they were not much disturbed, and had not as yet adopted 
what I understand is now a common habit, of feeding al- 
most exclusively at night. A favorite custom of mine was 
to ride to a hill or point overlooking a good deal of hill- 
side and forest margin, picket my hunting pony, and with 
a good field glass to watch such game as might appear; 
and in those days it was seldom that some animals were 
not in sight — ^buffalo, elk, white tail or mule deer, ante- 
lope, sheep and black or silver tip bears— according to the 
locality. As a rule, I preferred to watch rather than to 
hunt, unless an unusually fine head or the need of meat 
in camp was an incentive to kill. Of the game seen none 
was more interesting than the silver tip, and with one 
family I became quite well acquainted. 
While on a fishing trip in June, camp was made on a 
fine trout stream where I passed several days, fishing a 
little and incidentally looking over the country with a 
view to returning in October for a fall hunt. Near by 
was a divide, open for a mile or more and then covered 
with pin^s, surrounded on two sides of its triangle by 
sm'all cations. Regttlarly each afternoon about four 
o'clock, a large female silver tip with two cubs would ap- 
pear from the woods and work over the ground, some- 
times till dark. Occasionally a larger bear, probably a 
male, would appear, but did not join the others, who 
seemed to be rather afraid of him. I may mention that 
on one occasion three mule deer crossed the slope a 
little below the bears, so that I had the unusual ex- 
perience of having four bears and three deer in the field 
of the glass at one time. 
The chief occupation of the bears wWle in sight was 
turning over stones in search of insects beneath, and it 
was most interesting to watch their methods. A man 
tiirning over a stone usually draws it over directly toward 
himself, to the imminent danger of his toes; but a bear 
knows better than that. In the case of a heavy stone, 
they would brace themselves with one foreleg and with 
the other raise the stone and give it an outward sweep 
well to one side, so that it would not strike them in falling. 
The moment the stone was over their heads went down, 
and they apparently licked up such insects as were in 
sight, though I was not near enough actually to see this. 
Then usually one or two rapid sweeps of a paw were 
made, probably to uncover such insects as might have 
secreted themselves. One of the cubs would sometimes 
join the mother in this search, but generally each worked 
independently. Imitating their mode of search, I have 
found many beetles and ants, and numbers of mole 
crickets, and of the large stone cricket (Anabrus) . In this 
place, at least, dead stumps were rarely searched. 
The habit of turning over stones is very general in the 
spring and early summer, and was one qf the best indica- 
tions of the presence of' bears; later in the season, wild 
plums and other fruits are more generally sought as food. 
This family of bears were regular in their habits, feeding 
from early morning till about nine o'clock, and reappear- 
ing about four in the afternoon. On cloudy or showery 
days they might be seen at intervals all day, but a hard 
rain they avoided. The female, while watc'hfid, was not 
at all shy. She happened to be in sight when the tents 
were pitched, a process she watched with much apparent 
interest and some surprise. At first she brought her cubs 
in close to her; but before long they resumed their 
search for insects, and finding they were not molested, 
paid little more attention to us. When watching an ob- 
ject she would raise herself to her full height on her 
forelegs and elevate the head, which was moved slowly 
from side to side, giving her a rather uncaimy look of 
mingled watchfulness and waggishness ; at such times she 
appeared to be making up her mind whether to' sneak 
off, to charge, or to dance ! This is a common attitude, 
and one I have frequently observed when hunting. The 
effect is of a pretty direct line from nose to rump in 
contrast with the usual outline of the bear on all fours, 
where the shoulders are highest and the head and rump 
lowest. This attitude has something comical about it, and 
when seen assures the hunter that the animal is alert. - 
I watched this interesting family for about a week, and 
left them undisturbed until autumn. At that time bears 
were plentiful. In the same month and near the same 
place I saw eleven in one day, two black and nine silver 
tips, which I think was not far from the usual relative 
abundance of the two species in the Big Horn Mountains 
fifteen and twenty years ago. 
I remember these incidents more distinctly than others 
that occurred to me. Unfortunately, iii those days I 
thought, with many others, that game would, continue in 
abundance much longer than proved to be the case, and 
so neglected to preserve many notes and specimens that 
to-day would be of very great interest. 
J^C Meeriix. 
All communications intended for Forest and Stkbam should 
always be addressed to the Forest and Stream Publishing Co., New 
York, and not to any individual connected with the paper. 
