FOREST AND STREAM. 
201 
to this innumerable eggs were collected and destroyed, or 
blown and sold as curios to northern tourists. 
The valuable portions of the animals are the skin and 
the teeth. The former, as is well known, makes a most 
excellent leather, while the latter are worked up into 
trinkets of various kinds. 
The family Crocodylidcs was by all the early zoologists 
combined with the suborder Lacertilia under the name 
of Sauria, since all the crocodilians appear in outward 
form to be nothing more than gigantic lizards. Even to- 
day they are often spoken of as lizards; but an examina- 
tion of their skeleton and the soft parts of their anatomy 
sliows them to possess characteristics which stamp them 
at once as a distinct group among the reptiles. More- 
over, they have been distinct as far back as our knowledge 
of them goes, numerous fossil remains of undoubted 
crocodiles having been discovered in the rocks which lie 
jiist above the great coal measures. To quote Josh Bil- 
lings again, our living forms "are chips of the old block." 
All the members of the family are fitted for an aquatic 
existence, and the nostrils, eyes, and ears are provided 
with lids or valves by means of which they can be tightly 
closed when the body is submerged, an adaptation of the 
utmost value to an animal which drags most of its food 
beneath the water. Their legs, although too weak to be 
of much use on land, are strong enough for their needs 
in the water. By means of them and their long, strong 
tails they are able to swim with great rapidity. 
They dififer from other reptiles and approach the mam- 
mals in having a four-chambered instead of a three- 
chambered heart — two auricles and two ventricles — so that 
there is a double circulation, and the blood is kept at a 
higher temperature than that of their relatives. There are 
also traces of a diaphragm and the teeth are set in sockets 
instead of simply resting on the bones. The teeth also 
are limited to a single row in each jaw, and are shed at 
intervals, the new one growing up within the base of the 
old one and displacing it. They are further characterized 
by the possession of a more or less complete armor, con- 
sisting of ridged bony plates imbedded in the skin and 
overlaid by large scales of horny material. The bones of 
the neck bear ribs which lie almost in contact with each 
other, and thus deprive that part of the body, to a great 
extent, of the power to move. In the skull there are 
numerous peculiar arrangements of the bones, but a 
description of these would involve too many technicalities 
and will therefore be omitted. 
With these animals, the most highly developed in 
the class of reptiles, the series of chapters on Our Batra- 
chians and Reptiles comes to a close. It must not be 
imagined that even for the tj^pes described more than the 
most condensed outline has been given. In many cases 
our knowledge of some of the commonest and most in- 
teresting species is woefullj' deficient, and in other cases 
extremely interesting and well known facts have been 
suppressed. It is the hope of the author, however, that 
the readers of Forest and Stream will be led to pay 
n!cre attention to the animals which they have been 
taught from childhood to despise, and in the future try 
to assist the zoologist bj' recording such observations as 
tliey may happen to make during their expeditions to the 
forests and streams of our country. W. P. Hay. 
Man and the Brute. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In the August number of Forest and Stream, page 
125, A. H. Gouraud objects, in part, to the sensible and 
interesting paper from the pen of that keen observer, 
Charles Hallock. Mr. Hallock's paper appeared in July, 
page 44, and was entitled, "Man and the Brute." 
Mr. Gouraud quotes from Mi*. Hallock's paper: 
"Words, or the number used, arc not the measure of 
intelligence, brute or human," and then denounces the 
statement. He gives his own conception of words : 
"Words are the implements of thought; without them 
complex mental processes are impossible; in short, as 
Max MuUer declares, 'thought is identical with lan- 
guage.' " 
"Words are the implements of thought" is all right; 
but the remainder of the statement cannot stand the light 
of scientific investigation. I don't believe Mr. Hallock 
will ta-ke his science from Max Muller, a Sanskrit 
scholar. He, doubtless, would prefer Mandsley, Horsley, 
Golgi, and Rumon de Cajal, modern biological investiga- 
tors. There are scores of other investigators, too nuiner- 
ous to mention, so one need not go astray if he is a 
student in this direction. I wonder how Mr. Gouraud 
disposes of the unfortunate beings that are born deaf 
and cannot use a word of any language? His theory 
would deprive them of the power to think, for thinking 
is a complex mental process which, he claims, would be 
impossible without words. 
Mr. Gouraud gives us another exhibition of impossible 
science. He writes of the pugilist: "The boxer, of 
course, has no time to think, and, like the animal, de- 
pends upon the operatioia of habit." 
It seems to me that it would be impossible to put more 
error into the same number of words. If we are to dis- 
cuss questions from a scientific standpoint, let us have the 
pure article. Scientifically stated, the boxer sees every 
movement of his opponent. Suppose a blow is aimed to- 
ward his eye, does he act without thinking? If he did 
he would probably be knocked out in one round. The 
movement of the coming blow is flashed to the retina. 
A network of nerves collect the impression and through 
the optic nerve and its aids it reaches the tract in the 
brain where the knowledge of sight is located. Con- 
sciousness, that has charge of the welfare of that par- 
ticular organism, is warned and instantly puts in opera- 
tion some method of defense. The blow could be stopped, 
or turned to the right or left, or the boxer coidd step 
back, or side step or dodge. If the boxer is proficient in 
dodging it would be the best defense, for the only move- 
ment needed would be to jerk the head one side. Con- 
sciousness concludes to adopt this method. An impulse is 
sent down the different nerve channels to a nerve center 
in the medulla oblongator; from there it is carried to a 
nerve center in the spinal cord, and then continues to the 
trapezius muscle, which contracts and jerks the head to 
one side and the closed hand passes harmlessly by. 
I have tried to explain the operation without the use 
of technical terms beyon4 those pecessary to make my 
meanmg plain. It may be thought that the movement 
would be too slow to be of use, but practically the move- 
ment is instantaneous. To change an apparent into an 
efferent impulse, or, in other words, to change a sensory 
into a motor impulse, takes six-thousandths of a second 
in time. Now, consciousness may conclude to strike 
back; if so, an efferent impulse comes down from the 
cortex of the brain, where ideas originate, and the proper 
muscles are called upon to give the blow. Want of 
thought does not enter into a boxing contest. I know 
this from experience as well as through scientific study. 
It seems to me that Mr. Gouraud is playing double. 
He objects to about every statement in relation to the 
intelligence of the higher animals, even to man. At the 
same time he admits everything in the fragments which I 
herewith quote : 
"Animals undoubtedly have a limited vocabulary." It 
is. not to be denied that animals have imagination. I 
have little doubt that in this particular the horse and 
various other roving animals have memories equal to or 
even superior to the best among men. I hold that the 
marrow never enters its consciousness." 
We see from the foregoing that he grants the animals 
language, imagination, memory and consciousness, with 
all that these attributes may imply. After granting the 
dog a superior memory, he makes this statement: "This 
oblivion of the past and future is the secret of the ani- 
mal's contentment." I really cannot understand what Mr. 
Gouraud is driving at. He emphatically denies that an 
animal's ears may be manipulated to mean yes or no, 
and then goes the theory one better by -claiming that an 
animal's ears, retracted, is a sign of displeasure, real or 
affected. Then he goes on to state this proposition : "An 
animal that will invent signs for yes and no will not 
stop at that accomplishment." How about an animal that 
invents a sign of real displeasure? How about the same 
animal that invents a sign for affected displeasure? 
Consistency thou art a jewel ! 
I will quote once more from Mr. Gouraud's paper : "A 
dog, upon observing evidences of an impending outing, 
may be transported with delight, but his emotion is 
stirred by visible and well recognized preliminaries. That 
he ever of himself contemplates such outings I do not be- 
lieve." 
If I mistake not the writer will hear from dog lovers, 
but here in the woods I see evidence that dogs con- 
template an outing. They come in pairs, without their 
masters, to hunt rabbits. One mismated pair hunted near 
my cabin for years. One was a small beagle, the other a 
big Saint Bernard. As the years passed the big fellow 
got too fat to hunt ; besides, his feet were tender. I well 
remember the last hunting they did. Three or four times 
a week I would meet the dogs while on my way to the 
city for breakfast. It was duiing the summer months. 
The beagle was always ahead of the big dog. If the 
morning was warm the latter would give up anH lie down 
in the shade. The beagle would come back and in- 
variably the dogs put their lips together. The beagle 
had some method of enticing the Saint Bernard to make 
another effort. One very warm morning I saw the big 
dog give up four times, and each time the beagle whis- 
pered something that induced him to try again. When 
I returned to my cabin the Saint Bernard was resting 
in the dooryard and the beagle was giving tongue in a 
nearby swamp. The rabbits often ran by the cabin in the 
old woods road, and the big dog, when he heard the 
beagle coming, would watch from behind a boulder. The 
rabbit loped by this morning, and the dog made a lunge, 
but missed and lost his footing. He remained where he 
fell, and when the beagle saw him he knew it was a 
hopeless case and did not return to the swamp. 
This summer there are eight dogs that hunt in pairs 
about my cabin. The masters of one pair live about a 
mile from each other. When one of the dogs contem- 
plates a hunt, he goes after his running mate, and 
together they journey to my cabin. The home of one 
of these dogs is in the city and the home of his mate is 
a mile away on a country road. When the country dog 
goes to the city after his mate, as he often does, he cer- 
tain]}' must contemplate hunting and contemplate sharing 
the sport with his friend. 
M. A. Walton ("Hermit"). 
A Summcf Songf. 
In the hush of morn in the fields of corn 
I hear the Bob White calling; 
At the close of day o'er the fields away 
Again its cadence falling. 
Bob White! Bob White! 
"This is his roundelay; 
Bob White! Bob White! 
He's singing all the day- 
Where the sunflowers bold in green and gold 
Are growing, away from the city, 
By the tangled hedge, in the blue stem sedge. 
He ever singeth his ditty: 
Bob White! Bob White! _ 
Summer's the time to sing; 
Bob White! Bob White! 
List to its mellow ring. 
In the prairie grass as I by him pass. 
His motion and vesper together. 
He sings away through the summer day 
This litany for all weather: 
Bob White! Bob White! 
Molest me not, I pray; 
Bob White! Bob White! 
This is his roundelay. 
In the hush of morn in the fields of corn. 
You hear him far away calling,^ 
There's a whir of wings, then again he sings, 
Nearer its cadence falling: 
Bob White! Bob White! 
Mv nestlings are on the wing; 
Bob' White! Bob White! 
Surnmer's the time to sing. 
Wm. Felter. 
Mound CiTV, Kansas , . ^T'.-^^;;^ . ^j':!!^^ 
'mti^ §Hg md 0m* 
Projjrietors of shooting resorts will find it profitable to advertise 
them m tonKST and Stream. 
All communications intended for Forest and Stream should 
always be addressed to the Forest and Stream Publishing Co., 
New York, and not to any individual connected with the paper. 
In Pine County Deer Woods. 
St. Paul, Minn., August 24. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: I have never written an article for publication, 
but as we are all invited to give accounts of our hunts, 
I will just imagine that I am Charles Cristadoro for a 
short time, and make my first attempt. 
The hunt was made last fall in the eastern part of 
Pine county; the party consisted of a younger and 
taller brother, whose camp name was Professor; an- 
other and shorter brother we called Whiskers, and the 
writer. We took the train for Nickerson, Nov. 7, ar- 
rived safely in the morning, and after the usual skir- 
mish — where a team has not been engaged ahead of 
time — we succeeded in getting a good team and good, 
patient driver. Next morning we got loaded early, 
started on a ten-mile trip over a tote road, the terrors 
of which are well known to most sportsmen of the 
North, but which after all became a source of pleasure 
to the penned-up city sport. After getting well into 
the slashings or choppings, we found we were the first 
ones in that far, and on the last part of the road we 
had to chop the fallen trees, which were thick enough 
to get us well tired by the time we reached our camp- 
ing spot, well along in the afternoon. It was a nice 
level place, well protected from the north winds and 
near a nice brook. After a short rest we got out our 
camp stove and got up a hasty lunch, with hot coffee, 
after which we got the driver started back. Then we 
proceeded to make camp, and by dark we had both 
tents up, bunks made, balsam boughs cut and brought 
inside, stove set up in one tent and principal part of 
baggage stored in the other tent. Then we got out our 
two lanterns and looked up a dry treetop which we had 
spotted before dark and proceeded to get a good hot 
supper, for we were good and hungry by that time. 
After supper we rested a while, and almost wished that 
we were users of tobacco, so that we could indulge in 
that seemingly enjoyable evening smoke; but we all 
failed to get the habit when young, although we had our 
trials. The last one I had was when my chums filled 
up an old clay pipe with fine-cut and gave it to me for 
an evening smoke. That was my last smoke! But as it 
was, we proceeded to cut the boughs and soon had 
our beds ready and rolled in. 
The next day we cleaned up around camp, cut out a 
nice path to creek, got up some dry wood, cut away a 
few old stubs that they might not fall on our tents, and 
the next morning, the opening day, we were up early 
and started out after breakfast to explore a little and 
get the lay of the logging roads. The Professor went 
south and Whiskers and I went north up the logging 
road which ran by our camp. We were talking and 
visiting along, not expecting to see any game so very 
soon. But as the old saying, you always see a deer 
when you least expect to, we had not gone more than 
a hundred rods when I saw a fine large buck standing 
in the logging road, looking straight at us. I was in 
front and was an experienced hunter, and knew just 
what to do; but I didn't do it! I motioned to Whiskers 
to stop, and then took aim at a white streak going into 
the brush. Whiskers also blazed away, but the laugh 
was on me, for the old fellow bounded away-unharmed. 
We then separated, and I struck out to try to redeem 
myself, and did well. In the afternoon I took a stand 
on a logging road, and after an hour or so a small doe 
started to cross about 120 yards away, and I dropped 
her with a broken back. This was extra fine for the 
first day. I skinned out the front quarters and took 
them into camp. Whiskers also saw another, supposed 
to be a doe, and wounded it, but did not get it. The 
Professor did not see anything. We were all glad to 
think we were to have fresh meat from ihe start. I 
cut out some loin chops, and you can bet they tasted 
good. 
We spent the next two days tramping over new ter- 
ritory, but did not get a shot, though we saw good 
signs. On the 13th we had a very little snow which 
aided us some in tracking. We each took our own 
course.- I struck the track of a -doe and followed her 
for an houh or more in the afternoon, and finally saw 
her feeding, and had a standing shot at 100 yards and 
broke her back. I strung her up, tramped around, met 
Whiskers, and we walked together for a while. We 
passed up over a piece of open timber, which had been 
logged the winter before, and just as we were crossing 
a skid road or snake road a small buck jumped up and 
went bounding down the road. Whiskers did himself 
proud here by taking a quick aim and sent a ball 
straight through him lengthwise, and it lodged in his 
neck. I congratulated hini and helped him dress the 
deer and string it up. Then we made for camp. The 
Professor had succeeded in getting a shot at a couple 
of tails in the brush, but missed the mark. 
Two more days with their ups and downs and stories 
of the big ones that got away, then on the i6th it was 
all the Professor's day. He went about a mi'le south 
and took a stand on a high ridge, and after a long and 
patient wait a fine old 12-point buck came cautiously 
along in the brush at the foot of the ridge. He took 
aim at his side and fired. He had the fever some, and 
the shot struck far back, but just high enough to break 
his back, and the Professor was the happiest man in 
the woods; and well he might be, for he had the finest 
specimen brought out of that locality, and the mounted 
head adorns his parlor now. 
Whiskers and I came in empty that night, but en- 
joyed hearing the Professor explain all about how he 
did it. Only a shot or two on the 17th, by Whiskers; 
all came in empty handed, but on the l8th Whiskers 
and I both landed one._ Whiskers took a stand upon 
a creek bank, after getting some tired, and a nice two- 
prong buck came snuffing along: on a doe's track, andl 
