166 
FOREST AND ^ STREAM. 
Peary that resulted in the discovery of the northern 
boundary of Greenland, a Norwegian named Eivend 
Astrup, accompanied Peary on his travel over the in- 
land ice, Peary on snowshoes and Astrup on skis. 
Skis were introduced in America a number of years 
ago, but do not seem to have taken the hold on the 
popular fancy that their merit warrants. It is true that 
in parts of the northwest the ski is frequently seen, but 
it is in sections where a preponderance of the popu- 
lation is of Scandinavian origin. There are in parts 
of the north many devotees of the snowshoe, but for 
rapid, easy travel and genuine sport, the ski is far and 
away ahead of its only rival, the Canadian snowshoe. 
Every man that enjoys outdoor life, who will famil- 
iarize himself with the capabilities of the ski and the 
enjoyment to be derived from its use, will find a keener 
zest in his outings and a new field of pleasure open to 
him that, I venture to say, he will never give up. 
Captain Keogh. 
Durham, Kansas.- — Editor Forest and Stream: Any- 
one who has followed Cabia Blanco's pen and who him- 
self lived in the West, must give him credit for wide 
experience. His realisms are not the realisms of the 
usual faker of Western life yarns. The difference be- 
tween one who knows and one who draws solely on his 
imagination is plainly seen in every line. Cabja Blanco 
so plainly shows in his letters the man of experience that 
I have come to look upon him as an authority on Western 
army life. It is for this reason that I deem it worth 
while to call attention to some slight errors he makes in 
his letter on Captain Miles Keogh. He states in refer- 
ence to him at the Custer massacre : "Keogh's body was 
found not far from where Custer lay, within the circle 
where they made their last stand." Now, the fact is, 
Custer and Keogh fell as far apart as it was possible for 
two men to fall on the same field — perhaps a quarter of 
a mile. Neither is there' any evidence that Custer 
charged "the biggest Indian camp on top of ground." 
As far as any actual knowledge goes, Custer never got 
nearer than within one mile of the camp. The battle was 
not fought on a circular field, so far as Custer's men were 
concerned, but on a long narrow ridge flanked by deep, 
narrow and impassable gullies. Keogh filled the gap 
between the gullies at the south end of the ridge and 
Custer at the north- end. Thirty-eight men fell within 
a few feet of Keogh, and fifty-six in Custer's group. 
Between, and perhaps one-fourth of a mile long, was a 
scattered line, doubtless engaged in preventing anyone 
from crossing either gully. It was the only spot any- 
where near where a like defense could have been made. 
The men, without doubt, held the ridge until the last 
man was shot in his tracks. The picture of the Custer 
battle that was destroyed by a fanatic was destroyed at 
Topeka, Kan., not Lincoln, Neb. I have seen a great 
many pictures of the Custer battle, but never yet saw one 
by an artist who had taken the trouble to go and look at 
the field. Even now I have just read of a picture by 
Chas. Russel, the "cowboy artist." Cowboy artist sounds 
good, but the review tells about the Indians being in the 
foreground, circling round the doomed band. It looks 
odd to have horsemen circling along a line; and then, 
how about crossing those gullies ? Did they bridge them ? 
_E. P. Jaques. 
— — 
Owls and Hawks. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In your issue of December 26 last, your contributor, 
Sandy Griswold, entered a vigorous defense of the owl, 
the hawk, and the crow, and while predicting the ultiniate 
recognition of their existence as beneficial to mankind, 
demands for them the interposition of protective laws. 
Now, I am not an ornithologist, nor has my area of 
knowledge or observation been so extensive as that of 
your correspondent, hence I cannot throw down a gage 
of battle upon the subject; but, presuming that before the 
law is invoked, or rather enacted, a bill of full particu- 
lars is essential, I beg to offer a few suggestions. 
In the first place, I think some weight should be given 
to the question as to how far these birds, or either of 
them, prey upon other birds which in turn are destroyers 
of insects, worms, and other things ..destructive to grow- 
ing crops. If man occasionally succeeds in destroying 
the owl and the hawk, in particular, that in turn destroys 
insects, and thereby demands condemnation, how much 
more to be condemned are the owl and the hawk that 
destroy not an occasional small bird devoted exclusively 
to insect destruction, but hundreds and probably thous- 
ands of such small birds. Weighing up the insects and 
worms actually destroyed by the hawk and the owl as 
against the insects and worms actually destroyed by the 
small, birds whose lives have been ruthlessly terminated 
by the hawk and the owl, on which side will the balance 
be? The poor crow is exempted from the realm of his 
two murderous friends. 
From time immemorial the hawk has been known as a 
constant and watchful hanger-on about the poultry and 
barnyard for the purpose of picking up and making a 
meal of any stray chicken that may come within the reach 
of his talons. At the farmhouse where I am staying a 
brood of thirteen healthy chickens, hatched this winter, 
were from time to time reduced in number by a vigilant 
hawk, which kept watch upon the premises until only five 
were left to tell the tale. The bird was frequently seen 
while on the watch for his prey, but in the absence of 
firearms his depredations were unrestrained. Accepting 
Mr. Griswold's verdict, this hawk was an inestimable 
blessing. 
Again, in my hunting excursions, I have several times 
come upon hawks engaged in devouring quail they had 
captured. I have also found coveys of quail scattered 
by the attacks of a hawk, and I am told by those more 
experienced than myself that hawks often destroy more 
quail than an ordinary sportsman. It is generally ad- 
mitted that the sparrow-hawk feeds almost exclusively 
upon small- birds, which in turn would destroy an in- 
calculable number of insects destructive to growing crops. 
I know little of the habits and feeding propensities of 
the owl family. The little screech owl is best known in 
my neighborhood. Of his capabilities as a destroyer I 
will relate two or three incidents. Within a mile of my 
residence a farmer was disturbed a few weeks since by 
a noise in his yard. Going out to ascertain the cause he 
found a struggle going on between a screech owl and a 
guiriea-hen. The owl was fastened upon the neck of the 
struggling guinea-hen, biting it savagely. On his going 
to the rescue, the owl flew away. A night or so after- 
wards the same farmer heard a noise in his hen-house, 
and discovered a commotion among the fowls, and a dead 
guinea-hen lying upon the floor, while on a perch above 
sat a small screech owl which had undoubtedly caused 
the trouble. He was speedily dispatched. Here was an- 
other "blessing" whose career was summarily ended. 
A farmer's wife, who lives almost in sight, stated some 
time since that she saw a screech owl kill her big red 
rooster while it was roosting on top of a coop. A young 
man of this family was disturbed by a noise in the hen- 
house one night and found a dead hen lying upon the 
floor, and by its side a small screech owl which had bitten 
it in the neck and killed it. 
These are incidents of recent occurrence, and it seems 
to me apparent that further investigation would in all 
probability multiply their frequency. I beg, therefore, 
to exempt the little screech owl from proposed legisla- 
tive protection. His sharp bill and vise-like jaws that 
snap together with such ominous significance, are too 
dangerous to be abroad without some restraining in- 
fluence. Old Sam. • 
A Disappearing Game Bird. 
Civilization seems to be the great destroyer. West- 
ward the trend of empire takes its way, and before its 
onward" march, remorseless as fate, the wild things flee. 
Behind lie the wrecks of once happy conditions for the 
game. Gradually, but none the less surely, that greatest 
of all game birds — the wild turkey — ;has faded awaj^, until 
now only a few isolated specimens are to be found in 
favored localities. Our fathers thought that this bird 
never would become extinct. The bison followed in the 
wake of the turkey, and now science will in a very short 
time chronicle the fact that the great sage grouse {Cen- 
t.'ocercus urophasianus) , once so plentiful on the great 
plains, has gone to keep company with the turkey and 
the bison. 
I can recall the time when this bird, next in size to the 
v,;ild turkey, was a very familiar object on the Artemisia 
plains of the Northwest.. This was particularly the fact 
in the Great Bend of the Columbia River in what is now 
the State of Washington. My first introduction to the 
bird was in the summer of 1883, when this region was 
being settled up. Hundreds of home-seekers were flock- 
ing there from all parts of the United States. Caravan 
after caravan left the nearest railroad station, Cheney, 
to find locations upon these fertile prairies. It chanced 
that I was among those in the van of the rush. The 
last day's drive brought us to the Grand Coulee, and 
water — something not the easiest to find, by the. way. 
That night we camped beside a large spring that came 
pouring out- of the basaltic cliff and the edge of the 
Coulee. Everything was green for yards around, forming 
a striking contrast to the dried-up appearance of the 
usual landscape of bunch grass and sage brush. As the 
evening shadows drew across the gray landscape, wo 
were startled by the whirring of a thousand wings, 
looking up we made out against the lighter sky the great 
dark forms whirling down upon us over the hills. They 
settled right in the camp ground and fearlessly walked 
to the little rivulet made by the gushing spring. Others 
followed until the ground was dotted with them. Each 
slaked his thirst at the water and then flew away to the 
distant hills again. The next day we were all day in the 
country of the sage groiise. . He was on every side of us; 
sometimes barely getting out of the track of the wagon. 
Be It known we were not following any laid put road, 
but driving across the bare plateau, following the section 
hnes by compass. Nearly every bunch of sage brush had 
its resident. There were many of them only half grown, 
and not a few coveys just hatched, although the month 
was September. At that time I was too young to more 
than have a passing interest in the birds. Since which 
time, however, the love of all the works of the Great All- 
Father has been developed in my breast, and I have spent 
many happy days in study of our winged friends. 
I had an especial opportunity to study the sage grouse 
one winter when located in the Great Malheur country in 
eastern Oregon. The bird was there, as in the Great 
Bend, in all its native wildness, unfettered by civilization. 
Wandering bands oi cattle were the only people of these 
plains, tended by a few range riders. Every day and 
every day as we rode the range, great dark birds would 
spring out from under the horses' feet and rocket away 
across the canons. They fed almost exclusively upon, the 
sage during the winter, and their flesh was somewhat 
over-seasoned with that pungent herb. It made an addi- 
tion to our usual bill of fare of salt pork, however, before 
spring. We discovered a method of extracting some of 
the sage taste. After plucking and disemboweling the 
bird, we dipped him in a basin of hot water for an instant, 
then swathed him in a wrapping of hot cloths and buried 
him in about two feet of earth for twenty-four hours. 
Upon disinterring, the toughest, sagiest old grouse on the 
hills was found to be — well, not as tender as spring 
chicken, but then vastly improved over what he was be- 
fore his burial. 
When the springtime swept the snow from off the hill- 
sides, the male grouse chose their trysting place and laid 
out their amphitheatre. It was usually upon some knoll, 
bare of herbage and commanding a good view of the 
surroundings. There, upon early mornings, several of the 
cocks gathered to sing their love songs and unite in a 
wild quadrille that somehow seemed calculated to charm 
the hearts of waiting damsel grouse, who sat around arid 
seemed to enjoy the show. It was my pleasure at differ- 
ent times to be also an audience of one at these entertain- 
ments. I wasn't invited, but as I made myself very incon- 
spicuous, it did not seem to matter mucli. It is hardly 
fair on my part to give the snap away, but this _ love 
making is so amusing— much like any other love making— 
that I cannot resist the temptation to teU your leaders 
about it. More so, perhaps, because it is now a rare thing 
to see these birds making love on their native heath. 
The gray dawn was j ust breaking over the eastern hills 
when I stealthily slid into my place below the knoll that 
the birds had chosen for their courting ground. The first 
to arrive was a big fellow who already was all aglow 
with the ardor of his love. He plumped down upon the 
bare ground 'and sat still for a short time, then began 
sedately to pace . up and down the hillock. He did sentinel 
duty thus for perhaps five minutes. Then throwing back 
his head he gave tent to a deep guttural note that is im- 
possible to describe. At the same time he filled the air 
sacks on either side of his neck until they stood out larger 
than .oranges and much the same color. The row of 
black feathers that usually hid these sacks now stood up 
above them most comically. At the same time his mag- 
nificent black tail was spread and swaying from side to 
side. In this manner, and with head drawn back almost 
touching his tail feathers, he did a two-step up and down 
the ballroom. After side stepping in this manner for 
several feet he stood in one place and danced up and 
down, all the time giving utterance to a series of growls, 
that, while they were evidently very charming from his 
point of view, were a little like the efforts of a Chinese 
band — ^one had to be educated to that sort of thing to 
properly appreciate it. 
As the sun rose over the hilltops, the knoll became the 
scene of great activity. They kept arriving by the score, 
and soon the spot was one mass of performing birds. 
The hens, too, arrived and sat demurely in the bunch 
grass just off the stamping ground. Eacli cock chose his 
mate, and they wandered away into the sage brush, no 
doubt whispering soft nothings to each other in the most 
human manner. 
The nest of the female is made under a sage brush 
right out on the bare plain, with very little if any attempt 
at concealment. The bird seems to depend upon the 
protective coloring with which nature has endowed her 
for concealment from the natural enemies of her exist- 
ence — the coyote and the great owls that infest these 
plains. Numberless times I have almost trod upon the 
Getting birds without seeing them, so nearly does the 
coloring blend with the dead gray of the surroundings. 
In fact, one day while watching a band "of cattle upon 
some distant hills, I chanced to glance down at my feet, 
and detected a pair of bright eyes watching me intently. 
Even-then it required careful scrutiny to be sure that 
there was a bird belohgirig to those eyes. I purposely 
looked away for an instant, and upon looking back again, 
althoiigh I had not changed my position, it was fully a 
minute before I could again locate the bird. The eggs 
are usually nine, although I have seen clutches of thirteen 
quite frequently. The eggs are in color a ground of olive 
plentifully splotched with umber brown. The coloring 
matter is not a part of the shell itself, as it can be very 
easily removed, leaving the shell a dirty white. The in- 
cubation seems to be carried on by the female solely, as 
does also the care of the young. At least I have never 
seen the cock taking the slightest interest in the care of 
the family. The old bird, like all of the Phasianidce, is an 
expert in luring an enemy away from her young, simu- 
lating lameness very realistically; at the same time the 
youngsters are scuttling for cover. 
The food of this bird is much the same as that of the 
other members of the family — grains and grass seeds 
with an occasional beetle and grasshopper. They do not 
seem particularly partial to the Artemisia except when 
other food fails them. I have killed many right in the 
sage belt without finding a trace of the sage in their crops. 
I don't know, owing to the scarcity of this bird, that 
it is exactly fair to mention anything regarding them 
from the standpoint of the sportsman. In former times 
here in the West when they were plenty we used to find 
great sport shooting them ; especially in the fall, when the 
young birds were about ripe. They lay well to the dog. 
In fact, at the time of which I write, they were, if any- 
thing, too tame. I have had them flush right under my 
feet "with the dog at a point almost over them. It is 
somewhat disconcerting, though, to have one of these 
big fellows jump up right under your nose and go boom- 
ing away like a small thunder storm. The flight is very 
rapid for so large a bird, and once fully on the wing 
they^itch through the air very much in the manner of a 
Mongolian pheasant. They can stand a heavy load of 
shot;'icarrying away a load of chilled sixes without eve* 
turning a feather. The best load was chilled fours, driven 
by at least four drams of powder. 
Chas. S. Moody. 
Feed the Squirrels. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
Let me urge the readers of Forest and Stream to place 
nuts where the squirrels can find them. A tragedy has 
happened almost beneath the shadow of my eaves which 
I would spare others if I might. 
■ All last winter my eyes were gladdened by a pair of 
;red squirrels which had their nest in a chestnut tree near 
the house. The first thing that I saw as I looked from 
my bedroom window in the morning was one or both of 
these beautiful creatures skurrying along across their 
elevated road from tree to tree. Up and down they went, 
with great frisking of tail, the very symbol of life. The 
male was a perfect beauty; not exceptionally large, but 
much lighter in color than the generality, and of a lovely 
bright hue, as if he were the very offspring of the sun. 
He was my delight, the apple of my eye, and stood as a 
symbol of the wild life ami'd close crowding convention- 
alities. I would gladly have given him anything which 
his little squirrel heart might crave. I longed \o stroke 
his gleaming back, but never thought to hold him in my 
hand. Yet yesterday I did hold him— dead; starved to 
death, poor dear, ma culpa, ma culpa! 
All winter long I have been on the lookout for this 
pair, but caught only the rarest glimpses of them, and 
thought that they were nesting in a neighbor's trees. 
Now I know that the cold was so severe that they staid 
within doors in their tree. I must confess that I had 
not expected this. A week ago my son found one of the 
pair dead beneath the tree nearest my bedroom window. 
Yesterday as I started abroad with a bucket full of black 
walnuts to read the tracks in the snow if I might, I foun 
my beautiful sun-child dead at the basement entrance o 
