KOV. IS, 1902.1 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
S33 
while we wefe descendinpf Hill and Steel rivefs. Here 
they live entirely in bltrrows in the banks, as the deep 
water and swift current render house building imprac- 
ticable. Piles of mussel shells, showing where the animals 
have been feasting, were frequently noticed on the bank. 
The point of marsh below York Factory seemed to be 
the home of a considerable number of muskrats, but as it 
IS frequently overflowed, they are said to seldom survive 
^the winter. In the vicinity of Fort Churchill they were 
found in but one place — a stream entering the Churchill 
River a few miles above the post, and they were rather 
uncommon. 
"A winter following a dry season is said to be very de- 
structive to muskrats. On account of the low water, the 
animals construct their burrows and houses correspond- 
ingly low and are often forced out by floods at a season 
when they are unable to procure food, and have no pro- 
tection from their enemies." 
The Arctic hare was seen on the Barren Ground near 
Mr. Preble's furthest north, as were also white wolves. 
Gray wolves were more or less abundant in the Winni- 
peg region. 
^ Merriam's Innuit fox was quite abundant north of 
Fort Churchill, and occurs through northern Keewatin. 
The black bear is abundant, while nothing new was 
learned about the ^Barren Ground bear. On the other 
hand, polar bears were seen, and are said to be of regu- 
lar occurrence all along the west shore of Hudson Bay, 
and as far south as Severn River, and possibly' to the 
head of James' Bay. 
The walrus and several species of seals occur with 
more or less frequency in Hudson Bay, especially toward 
the north. A walrus was brought by an Eskimo to 
Fort Churchill only a few days before the party reached 
there. 
Three species of loons were seen on Hudson Bay, and 
two others are recorded from there. Mr. Preble speaks 
of the noisiness of the loons, and says of the Pacific loon : 
"The howl of a wolf or any unusual sound was generally 
followed by a chorus of tlaeir wild, weird calls, lasting for 
several minutes. 
All three species of merganser were observed. Mal- 
I lards were rather abundant, and as might be expected, the 
list of the ducks and the geese is a long one. 
_Mr. Preble took near York Factory five little yellow 
rail, which he secured by following up their call note. 
_ As might be expected for a trip along the sea shore, the 
list of beach birds is long. The spruce grouse, Canada 
ruffed grouse, willow ptarmigan and sharp-tailed grouse 
are all recorded. The rock grouse they did not see. 
The list of the lesser birds is a long one and contains 
many interesting notes, to which the reader must be re- 
ferred. A few frogs and salamanders were secured. 
A New Caribot*, 
From the valuable natural history material brought to 
the American Museum of Natural History by Com- 
mander R. E. Peary, on his return from his sojourn in 
the Arctic region, are the skins of five caribou. Of these 
four are flat skins of adults, without skulls and more 
or less defective, and the complete skin of a young fawn, 
preserved in brine. On this material Dr. J. A. Allen has 
described the Ellesmere Land caribou {Rangifer pearyi), 
a new species, quite different from the Greenland cari- 
bou, and indeed from any other that is known. In the 
winter coat, Avhich these animals still wore, when killed 
^ in June, the Ellesmere Land caribou is pure white except 
tor a dark patch on the middle and posterior part of the 
back. In the single male, the dark patch on the back is 
drab gray, while in the three females this patch is darker, 
and extends a little further forward. In two of these 
females the front surface of the forelegs is dark 
grayish brown. In the fawn the contrasts in color are 
less pronounced than in the adult animal, and it is more or 
less rusty throughout. Something of this may be due, 
however, to the brine in which it was preserved. 
In a letter to Dr. Allen, Commander Peary says that 
the winter coat of the Greenland caribou is pronouncedly 
darker than the Ellesmere specimens. 
The Real Samoa. 
From ike I/eiu York Sun, Nov. 5. 
It is a remarkable book that Mrs. Llewella Pierce 
Churchill has written in "Samoa 'Uma" (Forest and 
Stream Publishing Company). The Pacific islands, with 
their eternal summer and delightful natives and blissful 
indolence, have been a fairy land for dreamers from the 
day of the Mutineers of the Bounty to that of Bishop 
Peter. They have been spoiled by missionaries and 
diplomatic quarrels and ethnographers and by enthusiastic 
literary men. Samoa has suflfered above all; it has come 
to mean to most of us only a senseless international 
wrangle, though it does recall a great heroic scene ; more- 
over, it must bear the burden of the Stevenson cult and 
the reality, the little community of Pacific islanders, is 
lost sight of. It is this that Mrs. Churchill observed and 
that she tells of. 
She was in an unusually favorable position for her 
readers in that she had no ax to grind. She was there, not 
a5_ a missionary, nor a scientific investigator, nor an 
Dfficial, nor a poet in search of the picturesque; she was 
there simply as a wife who accompanied her husband 
whither his business led him ; she was in Samoa a long 
:.me and used her eyes and her brains in finding out what 
was around her. The people and their ways interested 
ler and she reports what she saw pleasantly, clearly and 
with no favor. The result may be disappointing to those 
who have closed their eyes to the savage side of the 
itniable Samoans and the Pacific islanders in general, but 
-hey will feel that they have now a sure foundation of 
'act to build on. 
Mrs, Churchill, without any parade of learning, depicts 
he institutions of the people, their daily life, their cus- 
oms, amusements, and so on, with illustrative anecdotes 
uid incidents, and, beside, describes characteristic adven- 
ures and scenes in her experience. She also shows the 
ffect of Pacific surroundings on the white men who drift 
nto the islands and become entangled with the natives, 
\fter reading her book the dreamer will doubt whether 
t is to the Pacific that he wants to go, after all. By the 
•ide of the bread fruit and other vegetable attractions 
there are bugs of many kinds that sting and crawl. There 
are gastronomic ventures on the author's part that make 
the flesh crawl ; she had no chance to taste a missionary, 
but— she tells of baked rat and vampire bat that taste like 
squirrel. 
The pictures are from photographs and are fine. Many 
represent Samoan girls who are pretty enough to make 
the dreamer turn his back on Mrs. Churchill's narrative 
and take the next steamer to Samoa, vampires or ao 
vampires. 
§miB §sig und §mu 
them ?n^Fo"EST "AuStI^u?''' P'**^'*'''* 
A Hard Time on Old Baldy. 
There is ^philosophy in the remark made by the man 
wno went coon hunting one night when he said. "I 
wouldnt have missed it for a farm, but wouldn't take 
another one for a farm with a hay rake thrown in " E 
±lough m his intensely interesting "Across New Bruns- 
wick on Snowshoes," says in speaking of "Lost Man's 
Camp, where they put in a night with the thermometer 
21 degrees below zero, while one had to keep a good fire 
burmng while the rest slept, "It was one of those experi- 
ences such as one would not willingly let go from his 
memory. It is well known and yet hard to explain why 
u gives so much pleasure and gratification to recall tbat 
in our experiences which was attended with so much 
hardship and discomfort. 
I was planning for a trapping expedition one fall after I 
would get my work done on the ranch, and just about 
the time I was ready to start out, Oscar Elmes.'one of 
my neighbors, proposed that he would take his wagon 
fll w7'/w"t' ^^'u^ ^V, mountains, in 
the hope that I might kill some meat for him to t ,ke 
home, as he was out of meat. This arrangement su red 
^ me very well, as I only had one horse at that time, which 
would have necessitated my walking and packing iky out- 
fit on my horse The day we started it was raining, and 
before we got far on our way it began to snow, and by 
the time we were at our proposed camping place, there 
was seven inches ot snow, and it was still snowini as it 
can snow in the Rockies. ^^nowing, as it 
. The discomfort began as soon as we started on our 
journey, and by the time we stopped to camp evervthing 
outdoors, ourselves included, was as wet as snow and rain 
could make it, and the prospect for anything like a com- 
fortable camp was gloomy enough; but by the time we 
had worked nght lively for an hour clearing away the 
snow and doing all the necessary work in maldng camp 
ma snowstorm, we had our blood warmed and felt better 
-the next morning there was over a foot of snow, and it 
was still snowing. Ihe snow was wet and heavy, making 
It very hard traveling, but we started out on horseback 
and went up over a very high and bare mountain, Old 
-BaJdy, which was in a southerly direction from camp. 
As we were ridmg we did not realize how terrible the 
traveling was, and we went several miles without seeing 
anything That was not surprising, for we knew it would 
be only by the barest chance if we would find any game 
moving m stich a storm, it being the first of the season. 
We left our horses picketed in a little park while we con- 
tinued on our way southward. After going but a few 
rods froin our horses we noticed a very dim trail going in 
the direction we were going, but we could not tell what 
It was or which way it was going. We followed it in the 
direction we had been going, and soon I found, sticking 
to a log the hair from a horse's tail, and we at one? 
concluded it was the trail of a neighbor who had gone 
into the mountains after meat. For the sake of elsier 
traveling we continued on the trail, and in a short time 
came to the fresh trail of an elk, which had come into the 
old liorse trail and gone on southward. After following 
It for some time we found where it had been lying down 
By getting down and examining carefully its tracks where 
1. had stood m its bed after getting up and noting by the 
condition of the snow when it had been there about wher'- 
the sun must have been, we believed it must be two hours 
ahead of us. It was going down a very steep mountain 
side mto an immense body of green timber, and after 
tollowmg It about a mile we found where it began to 
teed ; then I asked Oscar to stay several rods behind while 
1 got m my work, for it was very evident that his chance 
of getting meat was going to be slim if we did not get 
that elk. The snow was hanging heavy on the pine and 
spruce timber, which made it difficult to see far ahead* 
m a short time I. had gone around the head of a ravine 
where it had been feeding, and struck its track where it 
had gone on down through the woods, as if hunting a 
place to he down, and then I had the pleasing sensation 
of seeing its horns sticking up above the logs and rocks 
I motioned to Oscar to stop. I was satisfied it was lying 
down, and getting on my hands and knees I crawled 
through the snow for about twenty yards ; when I got to 
a favorable rise of the ground I rose up and could 
see Its head and neck, and saw that it was lying down 
with Its head laid back on its body at rest or asleep. Being 
then only about fifty yards from it, I took careful aim to 
break its neck. My gun snapped, and although the noise 
was very slight, he moved his ears, but did not raise his 
head. Being afraid to throw in another shell for fear 
of rousing him. I cocked the gun again, and that time 
It went off, and it just went "smack." seeming about as 
loud as the explosion of a percussion cap, and I was 
surprised after hearing the report to see him drop his 
head back on the snow, dead. Those who have shot in 
snow-laden timber know what a faint, muffled report 
it makes. 
With a whoop for Oscar to com.e on, I went down to 
find a splendid bull, probably two and a half years old, 
nice and fat. with its neck broken, which allowed it to 
bleed when stuck, just like a beef, and as the snow kept 
everything about it nice and clean in dressing, it was the 
finest and cleanest woods dressed meat that I ever 
handled. By the time We got it dressed and got back to 
our horses, we had to go Hvely to get back to camp by 
dark without going back for our meat. The next morning 
was rather warm, and the snow was just soft enough to 
make hard traveling. We went leisurely out after our 
nieat, believing we had an easy job before us. It was 
about noon when we got there, ;*id we ate our lunch 
betore packing our meat; then we packed up and started 
on what proved to be the most tiresome trip that I ever 
took. Instead of following our back tracks, that we might 
have a broken trail to help us, we thought to take an 
easier grade in going back, and therefore had to wade 
through the unbroken snow for fully six hours, in soft 
snow up to onr knees all the time. By the middle of the 
alterno( n we were taking short turns at taking the lead, 
as the cne in the lead had much the hardest work We 
were both well nigh "tuckered out" by 4 o'clock, but as 
is always the case, neither of us wanted to "squeal/* 
When we were within a mile of camp, we had passed 
beyond the point of ignoring our distress and began to 
speculate as to whether or not we would be able to make 
it to camp. We worried along till within eighty rods of 
camp, and it was getting dark, when Oscar sat down on a 
log and said, "I cannot go any further." I was in the 
lead at that time, and when he declared himself done up, it 
kind of nerved me up, and I just forced one foot after 
another, and reached camp without making another stop 
intending to unload my meat and go back after Oscar with 
my horse. When I got tq camp and looked back, I saw 
Oscar plodding along in my trail. When he reached 
camp he just flopped down and left his horse standing 
with its pack; I told him I would not sit down until the 
horses were relieved of their packs. After resting a little 
he got up and helped to unpack his horse, then tumbled 
down into the tent, where he stayed until I built a fire 
and made some ccSflFee. Immediately after getting into 
camp I became sick at my stomach, and never was sicker 
than I was for about an hour. By the time the coffee was 
made I was feeling a little better, and after sapping a 
httle hot coffee I revived as if by magic, and began to 
get hungry; tlien we went to cooking meat and eating, 
and by the time we were through we were as good as new, 
and suffered no ill effects afterward. I have been tired 
many times since, but always console myself by thinking 
that I am not as tired as I was the time I packed the 
elk meat over Old Baldy. Like many other of past ex- 
periences, I would not like to repeat it, but would be 
loath to allow it to pass from my mind. 
Emerson Carnky. 
MORGANTOWN, W, Va. 
iking the Boy. 
It certainly has been pleasant for the writer to describe 
in an imaginary way the taking of his boy hunting, one 
of the pleasures of anticipation put on paper, but while 
It gave pleasure to the writer and perhaps afforded a 
few moments' enjoyment to the readers of Forest and 
Stream who also have boys, yet it, is a matter of fact, 
gave little or no actual practical enjoyment to the boy 
in interest. 
He, weeks ago, picked up my copy of Forest and 
Stream, and therein read the imaginary sketch of his 
shooting trip, made up out of whole paper and lead pen- 
cil. I furtively watched his face as he read it, and cer- 
tainly was paid for my work in the varying and inter- 
esting facial exhibitions of interest as he worked along 
from paragraph to paragraph. And when he laid down 
his paper he looked up to me and simply remarked: 
"When will you take me?" I gave him no definite re- 
ply other than, "Sometime when I get time," which, 
when you come to figure it out, is as near to "never" 
as the word itself. 
But his birthday was coming around, and I proposed 
to take the first step by giving him a gun. A boy with 
a gun IS synonymous with "danger," and I figured that 
It was best that the danger be reduced just half by get- 
ting him a. single barrel and not a double gun. 
I got him the best single, breechloading, ejector gun 
m the market (made by ), a gun that would have 
rendered me speechless with joy had I received such 
on my 13th birthday, instead of the muzzleloading per- 
cussion cap proposition that I started with. That gun 
and boy went the rounds of the neighborhood, and it 
was a hard struggle to have him quit oiling that gun 
and squinting through the barrel for specks and leading 
and go to bed. 
And when that gun passed into his hands I began to 
study the calendar closely for a Saturday that could be 
given over to him. While I fixed the day, yet bearing 
in mind that man proposes, but the Lord ^fisposes, I 
began to figure how not to disappoint the boy in case 
I fell down. So I took Mr. Fullerton into my confi- 
dence and we fixed up the trip, Mr. Fullerton to chap- 
eron the boy in case I could not go. With plenty of 
other things to do, yet Mr. Fullerton gladly consented 
to aid in helping the young idea how to shoot. 
The next thing was to rig out the boy. His foot- 
ball shoes settled the footwear question. Then a pair 
of canvas leggings to protect his stockings from the 
briers. A pair of corduroys that years ago had encased 
my nether limbs, when I weighed less than I do now, 
were ripped apart, recut and made into an ideal pair of 
knickerbockers for the little fellow by his mother. 
His football sweater was warm and light, and that 
settled the hunting shirt problem. Then came a canvas 
hunting coat, fortunately picked up at the gun store, 
which fitted him comfortably and loosely. A corduroy 
hunting cap completed his outfit. The boy was prac- 
tically and sensibly equipped. A friend wrote me only 
a few days ago to "train up your boy in the way he 
should go, so that when the dogs see him armed and 
equipped for the field they may not feel tired and go 
off somewhere and lie down, as I am told dogs have 
done before now." 
It took some days to do all this, but finally the grip 
began to bulge as one piece of togging after another 
was stuffed in. 
It was hard for that boy to keep other things out of 
his mind during school hours, but he managed to so 
do. At last Friday morning came, and at the first signs 
of dawn I heard coming from a vacant lot across the 
street the call of a lone strayed quail, CoheelCohee! 
He had roosted under the weeds during the night, and 
at the first signs of day began to hunt his mat^. I 
was awake before the quail called, and at the first note 
jumped out of bed, ran across the hall to the boy's 
