876 
[Mav 7, 104. 
Origin of N. A/ Mammals. 
From the Eighth _ Annual Report of the New York 
Zoological Society is reprinted, and issued separately, 
a paper of much interest to ' naturalists and big-game 
hunters. This is "The Origin and Relationships of the 
Large Mammals of North America," by Mr. Madison 
Grant, Secretary of the New York Zoological Society. It 
h a brief review of the living large mammals of the 
United States and Canada, and an attempt to trace their 
past history, the continent of their origin and the time of 
their reaching the new world. 
In many respects there is a close resemblance between 
the faunas of the new and the old world, but eveii where 
the_ resemblance is most close, American naturalists — dif- 
fcring in this respect from those of Europe — believe that 
there is never specific identity — except in some circum- 
polar forms. 
It is_ to the paleontologists that we must turn for in- 
formation about the ancestry of existing mammals. This 
science has in many cases given us definite proof of 
descent, not only in the well-known case of the horse, but 
also in a number of other groups. Mr. Grant tells us of 
the radiation of certain groups of primitive mammals in 
the early tertiary, of the development and specialization 
of these groups, and the decline of the extraordinarj- and 
highly specialized types which has been evolved. 
At the very last of the tertiary and beginning of the 
pcst-tertiary or pleistocene, the fauna of North America 
was numerous and varied, including camels, horses, ground 
sloths, elephants, and many carnivors, among them the 
sabre-toothed tiger. Most of these were swept away by 
the glaciers which followed, but Mr. Grant believes that 
the common deer, the pronghorn, the peccaries and the 
raccoons — distinctly American types — are survivors of this 
fauna. During tertiary time, at various intervals, broad 
land connections are believed to have existed between 
North America and the continent of Europe and Asia, 
over the present Bering Sea. Over such a land bridge 
animals might readily have passed in either direction. 
The original home of the wapiti, for example, was prob- 
ably in Asia, where to-day exist forms so like the Amer- 
ican elk that they are called by their describers sub-species 
of Cervus canadensis. 
The means by which animals may have reached this con- 
tinent are migration by possible land bridge over the At- 
lantic, migration from South America, development in 
North America and finally — most important and most 
probable of all — migration from Eurasia by way of the 
Bering Sea. Mr. Grant believes that the raccoons, the pec- 
caries, the pronghorn, and the t3T)ical American deer known 
as Odocoileus, all originated in North America ; but the re- 
maining large mammals, the wapiti, bison, muskox, moun- 
tain sheep, mountain goats, many cats, including the 
lynxes, bears, otters, wolverine, fisher, martin, mink and 
beaver, are all more or less recent immigrants from the 
northern continent of the old world. These animals are 
nearly all of them of northern or sub-arctic habit, and 
from this is drawn the inference that the land connection 
between the continents lay far to the north. ^That this 
land connection persisted until very recent time is inferred 
from the close relationship of North American mammals 
with the old world forms. 
Mr. Grant takes up the different groups of animals and 
discusses them at considerable length, and his paper will 
be found very attractive by all who are interested in our 
mammals. 
His First Partridge. 
A FARM lay nestled among the hills bathed in the hazy 
sunshine of an October day; five happy, joyous boys, 
brothers, started from the old farmhouse on that lazy 
autumn day to husk corn in the field. The eldest of the 
lads, about twelve years of age, carried a small shotgun, 
two of the youngest carried a tin pail filled with apples 
to appease the hunger which the arduous labor they were 
about to begin, of husking corn and killing mice in the 
cornfield was sure to bring. 
As they started, their father asked the eldest what he 
was going to do with the gun. He answered that he was 
going to try to shoot a hen-hawk that was in the habit of 
alighting on an elm tree which stood in the meadow near 
the cornfield. If that father could have read the boy's 
mind he would have discovered that his real object was 
not to shoot but only to try to shoot the hen-hawk, as he 
well knew that he could not get within gunshot of the 
hawk while on the tree in the meadow, but that he sought 
to shoot a partridge that was in the habit of drumming 
on a log that lay on a wooded hillside near the cornfield. 
To have admitted that he desired to hunt partridge might 
have implied that he would neglect his work at husking 
corn, and in that view his father might have told him to 
leave the gun at home. Hence the hawk story. 
The boys joyously started for the cornfield, gun and all. 
They had not been many minutes at work before the 
hawk soared and circled above their heads, and descend- 
ing alighted upon the elm in the meadow. Now was the 
opportunity; gun in hand, the boy started toward the 
hawk, but before he had gotten within forty rods of the 
tree the hawk again soared, circling high up in the sun- 
shine. The boy at once hurriedly dived into the brush 
on the hillside. 
He well knew where the log lay. Many times he had 
listened to the drumming of the bird on that log, had 
sat upon the log, seen stray feathers and the droppings 
of the bird ; had even seen that proud bird strutting back 
and forth on the log drumming in all his glory, and had 
heard the whirr of his swift wings as he flew away. He 
had longed and longed again and again for the time to 
come when he could have a gun and make that bird his 
own. He traversed a broad circle and approached the 
log from the bottom of the hill, worked cautiously up 
the hill toward the log, his heart full of nervous antici- 
pation wondering if the bird would be there. At length 
he came within sight of the log. Carefully he raised his 
head above the twigs and leaves that surrounded him and 
what a sight met his gaze. There on the log sat the bird, 
craning his neck first on one side and then on the other 
to see what caused the noise made by the approaching 
boy. . 
Immediately the boy's eyes became twice their natural 
size, his heart leaped into his throat, he almost ceased to 
breathe, and although he was within easy gunshot of the 
bird, he_ instantly resolved — through fear that he might 
fail of his mark — to get nearer. He dropped on his knees, 
crawled behind a large hemlock tree a rod of two 
nearer the log, again raised his head for another look. 
There sat the bird still craning his neck. 
By this time the boy had ceased to breathe, his eyes 
fairly bulged out of their sockets, his heaft thumped so 
loudly against his breast that he feared the sound it made 
would frighten the bird away. Although he had scarcely 
strength sufficient to do it, he raised the gun to his shoul- 
der, closed his left eye, looked over the barrel of his gun 
with his right, aimed at the bird, pulled the trigger, and, 
to his utter astonishment, the bird fell backward off the 
log. 
Then commenced a scramble through the brush to get 
the bird, and although he was no more than forty feet 
from it when he fired the gun, he stubbed his toe and fell 
upon the ground at least three times in making that dis- 
tance. At last he tumbled over the log from which the 
bird had fallen, and fell, panting and exhausted, prostrate 
upon the ground, the expiring bird beating the ground 
with its wings by his side. Oh, joy! Oh, happiness com- 
plete! He had killed his first partridge. His hand was 
upon the bird. He held it in his arms. It was his — 
actually his own. 
As soon as his heart ceased palpipating and he had 
recovered his strength sufficiently, he started on a rapid 
journey to the cornfield to show his trophy. Only a 
short stop was made in the cornfield, the work of killing 
mice, roasting apples and potatoes in a bonfire and husk- 
ing corn instantly ceased, and five boys ran, shouting 
with glee, back to the dear old farmhouse again. 
Reader, if you were born upon a farm and spent 
your childhood there you know the happiness of - such a 
day. To roam through the woods with dog and gun, to 
climb the hillsides' gentle slopes, to lie upon the ground 
in the soft shadow of the trees, dreaming of the wonders 
that he would some day perform, to be startled from his 
reverie by the unexpected whirr of a partridge's wings 
or to be aroused into sudden energy by the point of the 
dog; these were the joys that came to that boy after that 
eventful day, the recollection of which still brings to his 
memory most exquisite charms. Many a bird fell and 
many a bird escaped at the crack of his gun; but, hit or 
miss, the love of the pursuit never left him. In after years 
during the struggle and turmoil of a busy life, sur- 
rounded by greed and contention, he looks back to the 
joys of those innocent peaceful days as something almost 
heavenly. To have had parents who knew only good, 
and sisters and brothers whom he loved beyond the power 
of expression who shared his pleasures — sorrows he had 
none — was his lot in youth, the memory of which softens 
his heart and awakens its best impulses. In many of 
the most bitter struggles that came to him later, when 
discouragement and despair almost destroyed all hope in 
bis soul, the memory of those days — those happy days of 
his youth — returned like a sweet dream to restore again 
his drooping courage. Henry F. Coupe. 
Deers* Powers of Scent. 
Last summer the question of the power of scent in 
animals was discussed in Forest and Stream, and I 
was tempted to join in the fray, but the subject seemed 
to be in the hands of those of greater experience than 
:^mine, so I kept out of harm's way. But now that I 
^liaS-e:the time to write, as I did not then,. and as Jack 
Frost has probably checked the bldod thirst of those 
Uvho raised their manes and lowered their horns against 
each other over Kipling's lines, I dare make a report 
of one instance that five deer showed conclusively that 
they possessed the power of scent. 
In the spring of 1897 I with others was engaged in 
digging prospect holes in the quartz rocks of the Boar 
Tusk group of mountains in Polk county, Arkansas, 
seeking gold and silver, and four of us lived in a 12 x 16 
board shanty, from January until July, in the heart of 
the woods and mountains. 
About the last of March we sunk a prospect hole 
upon a quartz lode, four miles from the cabin, and as 
the leaves were filled with wood-ticks, and partially hid 
the snakes, we burned the country over one very damp 
foggy morning, and following our blazed trail we started 
to make a path to and from the cabin. On the fourth 
morning after the burning of the leaves three of us had 
passed over the trail and had reached the foot of the 
last mountain we' must cross to reach our work, when 
we sat down upon a log to take a short rest before 
climbing the mountain side. While resting one of us 
saw five deer about half a mile further north, on the side 
of the mountain, slightly below us, to which he called 
the attention of the others, and then we silently watched 
them as they came up within an eighth of a mile of 
where we were, and then turned off at an angle and 
walked away from us* to a distance of a third of a mile, 
when their course led them to the trail we were mak- 
ing. With loud snorts from some of the herd they all 
stretched their necks and put their noses to the ground, 
and then one took the lead and with nose close to the 
ground took the trail and started toward us, the others 
following, all seemingly following the scent of the trail 
like a well-broken dog about to flush a quail, stepping 
slowly, as if ready to come to a point at any moment. 
In this manner they came up within thirty yards of 
where we were sitting, when the trail, turning around 
the top of a fallen tree, and when they were almost in 
a line with us on the log, a slight breath of air from 
the mountain side passed from behind us direct to the 
deer, then up came every head, and no dogs in- the hunt- 
ing field ever made finer points than those deer made 
en us, standing like statues for probably one or two 
minutes, until one of the party said, "I'm going to 
throw a rock at them," and reached for one. At this 
the herd broke from their point, and ran off about 100 
yards, and then all stopped and faced us again, but 
on the movements made in throwing the rock they all 
turned and loped over the hill out of sight. This herd 
consisted of three old ones and what we judged to be 
two yearlings, three does and one large and one small 
buck, and the strangest thing about their actions was 
that the largest buck was following the smaller one, 
and the last one upon the trail, while the does were all 
in front of the bucks, with the largest one in the lead. 
Why they acted as they did, unless they did not follow 
the scent will have to be explairied by some one who 
understands defer better than W. F. R. 
A Hunt in Costa Rica. 
The afternoon of an October day, 1902, found me ait 
LaS Lomas Staition, a small village on the railroad line 
runnmg from Port Limon to San Jose, .the capital of 
Costa Rica, Central America. This was to be my starting 
pomt for a trip into the southeastern part of Costa Rica 
after peccaries (wild pigs), and any other game found in 
this locality. The way was to be through the jungle, 
filled with swamps, poisonous snakes and wild animals, 
With here and there an Indian village. 
Las Lomas boasted of a few huts and a commissary, 
to the manager of which I had a letter asking him to 
fiiid me two reliable men to pack my things and act as 
guides. _ That night I spent at the commissary listening 
to stories of adventures with animals and venomous 
snakes, among them the deadly coral snake, with which, 
later on, I formed a closer and dreadful acquaintance! 
The next morning found me up before daybreak. My 
two men were- ready. They were Jamaica negroes, and 
both good hunters. I would rather have a good Jamaica 
negro than a dozen native peons. They are trustworthy, 
interested in the work, and cheerful companions on a 
hunting trip. I had with me one 12-bore shotgun, a 
.30-30 carbine rifle and a pistol, beside the long knife or 
machete always carried in that country. 
The first half day was easy going, as we followed well 
beaten paths through large rubber plantations. No game 
was seen, but occasionally a beautiful tucan or some other 
bright tropical bird flashed across our path, and we heard 
the call of the wild turkey off in the distance. This is 
not the turkey of the north, but a much smaller bird of 
dull plumage with a small head and shrill call. 
After leaving the rubber trees, the going became harder. 
Here a small stream was to be crossed, there a large 
fallen tree to be clambered over — a tree quite unlike 
those of the north, being covered and wrapped with 
creepers and foliage in every direction. When one of 
these trees falls it carries down this mass in a grand 
j'.imble, which continues to live and grow. You may judge 
l)ow vegetation thrives in the tropics when by actual 
calculation and measurement a wild bamboo has been 
known to grow twenty- four feet in nineteen days, and 
a wild banana tree eight feet in six days. Under such 
conditions one can see what a dense thicket is formed 
by the falling of a tree 150 feet high. 
In places such as this one man advanced and cut the 
tangle of creepers even waist high, the others followed, 
sometimes crouching, other times creeping on hands and 
knees, but always with eyes wide open to guard against 
poisonou.s reptile or spider. This continued till almost 
dark, and it was then time to look for a camp for the 
night. At last a place . was discovered on a small hill 
and fairly clear of undergrowth. After leveling with our -: 
machetes all the growth over the space needed, the two 
.men cut down some black palms, made a leari-to, and 
covered it with palm leaves. They then collected enough 
v/ood to keep the fire going, and spread down rubber 
blankets and coverings. The camp being ready for ' 
occupancy, some coffee, bread and a can of corned beef ; 
brought from the commissary made up our evening bill 
of fare, and after a pipe full everybody turned in. The 
day had been a hard one, and we wanted to rise early 
and start by daylight. 
Our troubles now began. I was almost in the arms of ' 
Morpheus when the gnats began their work, but by ., 
crawling entirely under the blanket and leaving just^thd • 
merest hole to^ breathe through I could escape them. r, 
I fell fast asleep, but suddenly began to dream that I 
was tied to a tree and that Indians were amusing them- 
selves by sticking spears into me. They kept coming 
closer and closer, and at last I awoke to find that part of 
the dream was true; something was sticking spears into 
mc, but not Indians. In making the lean-to the men 
had interfered with the road belonging to a city of ants 
:i.nd they had resented it. The rest of the night was spent 
hunting ants, and to this day I carry the marks of that 
struggle. 
At last the sky showed the approach of day. After a 
liasty breakfast of coffee and bread we started again, up 
hill and down, now cutting and now crawling. At noon 
wt' stopped for a hunk of bread and a smoke, and now 
at any moment we expected to come in sight of the 
Indian village. Once during the morning we had crossed 
an old pig trail and the track of a tapir, and stopped to ■ 
listen to the call of a turkey, but so distant that we did 
not seek it. - 
At three in the afternoon we had come on a well 
beaten path that led to the Indian village we Avere look- 
ing for, where we were to make our permanent camp. 
The head man or chief came to meet us. After I had 
given him to understand that I desired to stay there and 
hunt, and wanted a house of some kind, he commenced 
to bargain. If I would give him my rifle when I left 
he would give me a fine house, or even the shotgun 
might do. I explained to him that I would very gladly 
do so, only I should more than likely use up all the 
shells, and then what use would be the gun to him? 
Well, then, would I give him so much money, naming 
enough to keep him in luxury for a year. No, I would 
not do that; but I offered to pay for a guide to go with 
mo hunting, giving him and his people all the meat I 
shot. After much haggling this was agreed upon, with 
the addition of a few dollars for himself, and I was in- 
troduced to my quarters. 
The Cherripos were supposed to have among them some 
of the best hunters in Costa Rica, and they were. But 
how they lived, or rather how their children lived to 
grow up and prolong the race, I could never see, for 
almost every child was a weakling, deformed from the 
want of proper nourishment and given to eating sand and 
dirt, which causes them to lose their teeth and hair, and 
nine times out of ten die. The greater part of the evening 
v>;as spent by a large fire in front of the hut in inter- 
viewing aspirants for the position of guide. 
That night^ I had dinner with- my new friends, and 
when it was brought, in one big earthen dish containing 
some sort of stew, I did not want to ask just what it was. 
