Aug. 27, 1904.] 
FOREST AND STREAM 
General Harrison was elected President. One of them 
was a non-resident, and the other not quite of age, so 
they both went off after squirrels. What has become of 
my old comrade in the woods I do not know; Nessmuk 
like, he did not stick to the old proverb of "ne sutor ultra 
crepidam," but left home soon after I did, and the last 
time I saw him I met him on Broadway some thirty 
years ago, resplendent in blue cloth and gilt buttons, 
as one of the officers of "Admiral" Jem Fisk's Fall River 
Navy. 
As these notes show, my father trained me early to the 
use of firearms, and gave me a "shotgun," as we boys 
called a fowling piece, when I was twelve years old, and 
I followed his example with my own sons as soon as they 
were able to hold up a gun. 
Speaking of barking squirrels, although I never tried to 
accomplish the feat with a rifle, I once made a somewhat 
similar shot with a 12-gauge gun, which I shall never for- 
get. It was many years ago, I think in '68 or '69, that I 
had been out squirrel shooting with my two oldest boys, 
and having got several squirrels in the morning, we had 
sat down by a little woodland brook to eat our luncheon. 
The boys sat down close to the water, while I was on the 
bank, a little above them. We had just finished our lunch, 
when a gray squirrel started to run up a tree on the other 
side of the brook, about twenty yards distant, saw us, 
and stopped to inspect. My right side was toward him, 
and my gun lay by my right hand. I was afraid to turn 
round so as to bring the gun to my shoulder, so quietly 
cocking one barrel, I picked up the gun, pistol fashion, 
in my right hand, and fired, right over the boys' heads, 
who were facing me, and could not think what I was up 
to. As the squirrel had disappeared, one of them went to 
look and found him dead, eight feet from the tree, in a 
line exactly at right angles with my line of fire. The 
bulk of the charge had struck the tree, glanced, and with 
the bits of torn bark, struck the squirrel fair in the belly, 
killing him instantly, and throwing him away from the 
tree. Those boys have killed many squirrels on their own 
"account since that day, but neither of them has forgotten 
that lunch at the brookside, and that apparently random 
pistol shot, with that heavy gun. 
I have pleasant personal recollections of Audubon, and 
never thought of doubting his stories of Daniel Boone 
and squirrel barking, though I must confess to a good 
deal of skepticism about the Leather Stocking tales of 
piercing two potatoes with one bullet, for it must be a 
:very rare chance that would bring two objects thrown into 
the air by one person in the same line of sight to an- 
other man holding a rifle. It is too much like the old 
archery myths sung by Sir Walter Scott : 
And when in turn he shot again 
The second cleft the first in twain. 
The question of "Cat Appetite" seems to be settled, and 
to have given "place to "Frog Provender," but I want to 
thank Mr. Mofphew for his contribution to it, and to say 
that my "Thomas," having enjoyed asparagus in its 
season, as well as the cat mentioned by M. de Varigny, is 
now reveling in string beans and sweet corn to his heart's 
content, besides doing a fair amount of foraging among 
the mice in the barn. 
It was pleasant to. find in the last Forest and Stream 
the familiar signatures of Kelpie, Coahoma, and Didymus, 
and equally so, some months since, to read the delightful 
account of the visit to Crater Lake by Forked Deer, 
whose name has long been among the missing. 
I have caught no trout for two years, and the fishing 
has been very poor in this part of New Hampshire. 
Nearly all the brooks practically dried up last year from 
the lack of rain and the loss of the forests. 
Von W. 
Do Ducks Smell? 
New York. — Editor Forest and Stream: Now that 
the duck-smelling theme has been broadened to include 
buzzards and other fowl of the air, I venture to refer 
your unconvinced controversialist Coahoma to the kiwi 
and its smelling apparatus. The kiwi, a grotesque bird of 
New Zealand, is possessed of a long beak with the nos- 
trils placed at the end. It is a night feeder, and its food 
is the earthworm, which it procures somewhat after the 
manner of our woodcock. Dr. Buller, a naturalist of re- 
pute, whom the books quote as an authority on the kiwi, 
says of its feeding habits : 
'While hunting for its food the bird makes a continual 
sniffing sound through the nostrils. Whether it is guided 
as much by touch as by smell, I cannot safely say; but it 
appears to me that both senses are called into action. It 
is probable that in addition to a highly developed olfac- 
tory power, there is a delicate nervous sensitiveness in 
the terminal enlargement of the upper mandible. It is 
interesting to watch the bird, in a state of freedom, 
foraging for worms, which constitute its principal food; 
it moves about with a slow action of the body, and the 
long, flexible bill is driven into the soft ground, generally 
home to the very root, and is either immediately with- 
drawn with a worm held at the extreme tip of the mandi- 
bles, or it is gently moved to and fro by an action of the 
head and neck, the body of the bird being perfectly 
steady. On getting the worm fairly out of the ground, 
it throws up its head with a jerk, and swallows it whole." 
With Buller of New Zealand as my authority, I stand 
up to be counted with'Cristadoro of Minnesota as against 
Coahoma of Mississippi, as a believer that (some) birds 
do smell. J- D. Adams. 
New \ Orleans, Aug. 16.— Editor Forest and Stream: 
In your issue of July 9, I read "More Anon's" article, 
"Do Ducks Smell?" and would like to have space to re- 
count a bit of my experience while ' shooting ducks the 
past thirty years in southern waters over decoys. 
I am of the opinion that ducks do not smell a human 
being any more than a wild turkey does. Our hunters 
down here, both professional and amateur, when setting 
out decoys, place them to leeward of their blinds, taking 
the wind on their backs. I have always understood that 
ducks preferred the still side of a lagoon to the windy 
or rough side, and naturally came to the smoother water. 
Nearly every flock comes to decoys up wind, and the 
ducks frequently light among them and remain until the 
sight of the wooden floaters creates suspicion that some- 
thing is wrong. Those Currituck ducks have more sense 
(of smell) than have those that come "way down South 
in Dixie." 
Ducks soon recognize decoys after coming to them 
several times to be shot at, and it is the sense of sight, 
not smell, that deflects them from the anxious shooter. 
T. K. Renaud. 
[Ever since the controversy as to the smelling powers 
of ducks began, we have been wondering why the ob- 
vious bit of evidence brought forward by Mr. Renaud 
was not called attention to. It is of course perfectly well 
known that the duck shooter, whether on the Gulf of 
Mexico or on Currituck Sound, puts out his decoys to 
leeward. He wishes to have the ducks come up in front 
of him and alight in the wind ; in fact, they will not 
alight in any other way. He wishes to see them as they 
are coming , and is seriously handicapped if they come 
from behind him. The birds which come are ducks of 
all sorts ; mallards and black ducks as well as canvasbacks 
and blackheads. The decoys are commonly set from 
20 to 30 yards from the gunner, and his scent is neces- 
sarily constantly carried over them. Perhaps the reason 
that this bit of evidence has not been earlier adduced 
is because duck shooters over decoys are not very many. 
Works on duck shooting usually explain more or less 
fully the manner of setting out decoys, and the reader who 
wishes to look it up is referred to "American Duck 
Shooting," where it is mentioned in several places, but 
especially in connection with point shooting in Currituck 
Sound— on page 386 — and again in the chapter on battery 
shooting.] 
The Sora. 
The season is at hand for the opening of the sora 
shooting — the first shooting of the fall. This little bird, 
known also as Carolina rail, ortolan, rice bird, and soree 
in various localities, is now about to begin its migratory 
flight all over the country. It is one of the earliest birds 
to move, and a slight frost seems to start it on its jour- 
neyings. In every fresh-water marsh along the coast and 
inland, from Virginia north almost to Hudson's Bay, the 
sora breeds in some numbers, and when the autumnal 
flight begins the birds stop at different points where grow 
the wild rice or other plants whose seeds they like, and 
rest and feed. 
The sora is not a large bird, measuring only about 9 
inches in length. Above he is olive brown, varied with 
black and gray, and the under parts are lighter, the breast 
and flanks being sometimes marked with white. Except 
during the migratory flight, the sora takes to wing un- 
willingly, and spends most of its time on the ground, 
running here and there through the close set stems of the 
grass or weeds in its marshy home, and feeding on the 
seeds which fall from above. If the water rises, they 
still run about on the floating vegetation, or climb up the 
stems of the weeds, seldom flying unless forced to do so. 
The sora's migrations take place at night, and a marsh 
which one afternoon had no birds in it may be full of 
them the next morning. In the same way they may all 
vanish in a night. These sudden and mysterious appear- 
ances and disappearances have given rise to many super- 
stitions about the rail. People have declared that, with 
their short wings, it was impossible for them to fly great 
distances, and have thought that they have descended to 
the bottom of the streams at the approach of winter and 
remained there in the mud until spring. Other people 
have believed that they change to frogs when, the cold 
weather comes, and some of the western Indians think 
that they perform their migrations on the backs of wild 
geese or cranes, which carry the little birds from south 
to north, and back again. 
From New England to Virginia, sora shooting is a 
favorite sport, It does not last long — only two or three 
hours a day for four or five weeks in each year. But it 
comes at a delightful season, is very easy shooting, and 
entails little or no exertion. It is one of the best and 
most encouraging forms of shooting for the beginner. 
Each boat is propelled by a "shover," who, standing in 
the stern, by means of a long pole shoves the boat 
through the high grass or reeds where the rails have 
their home. The shooter stands in the bow of the boat, 
and the rail rise singly in front of the bow. They usually 
take wing quite close to the boat and fly slowly and 
straight and should be easily killed. It is the business of 
the shover to watch the bird as it falls and mark the 
spot, and to pick it up as the boat goes by. 
In old times when rails were more plenty than they 
are now, bags of one or two hundred were sometimes 
made in New England, and it is said that on certain 
marshes in Virginia, which are favorite resting places 
for the birds during migrations, such bags are still made. 
The sora is recognized as one of the. most toothsome 
of game birds, and in the estimation of many ranks with 
the woodcock and the English snipe. During the eariy 
autumn, when they are feeding on the wild rice, they 
become very fat and are most delicious eating.. 
Requisitions for Game Law Violators. 
Harrisburg, Pa., Aug. 19.- — Editor Forest and Stream: 
Last week one of the game protectors of West Virginia 
came to Harrisburg with a requisition for a resident of 
one of our western counties, charged with killing game 
out of season in West Virginia. The offender and his 
friends felt very confident that our Governor would not 
honor such a requisition, the offense being classed as a 
misdemeanor and of a trivial character. The opposite 
was the result, the requisition was honored, upon the 
ground that the offense was against the Commonwealth 
of West Virginia, and not against an individual. The 
gentleman was taken back and made to suffer the penal- 
ties imposed by the law. I state this as it may be a mat- 
ter of interest to some of your readers who are in the 
habit of coming into this State to hunt in violation of our 
law requiring non-residents to secure a license before 
hunting in this State, much unpleasantness and trouble 
will, beyond doubt, be saved to many of these people and 
to the game protectors of this State if those from the out- 
side can be made to understand that this law means just ! 
what it says, and that there is danger in attempting to 
violate it, Joseph Kalbfus, 
Secretary of the Game Commission. 
Life in the Woods.-XV. 
Last Nfght in Camp. 
(Continued from page 152.) 
Our hunt was now fast drawing to a close. In two 
days more Henry and Lewis were to go out, and Henry 
had not killed a deer. He was extremely anxious to get 
one. He had had a number of shots, but had been un- 
fortunate, for his shower gun, with all its buckshot, did 
not seem to have done much damage. When morning 
dawned, he was the first one out, and he hunted hard and 
faithfully until long after the dir.ner hour, but his efforts 
were not crowned with success, and he looked pretty 
"blue" as he sat down in camp to take a rest. He never 
had been "skunked" on a hunt of this kind, and he did 
not want to break his record. To think of having been 
in the woods three weeks with several good chances and 
then not kill a deer was too much for him. 
We had some fanciful names for the lakes around us, 
which we had christened ourselves, as the town maps of 
the Government survey did not bear any designation for 
them. There was Echo Lake, because of its famous 
echoes; Beaver Lake, because at some time in the past 
the beaver had a large dam there, and evidently a large 
colony of the industrious animals had thrived there for 
many years; Trout Lake, because in its outlet we had 
frequently seen speckled trout; Crescent Lake, because 
it was shaped like the half circle of the moon; Sand 
Lake, because it was the center of a sandy plain, and 
Otter Lake, because along its shores could now and then 
be seen signs of that animal. Near Otter Lake there was 
a famous runway which led up over a high ledge, and 
which really was the only exit to the north from a large 
area of well wooded country. We had frequently driven 
deer over , it, and had been quite often successful-in 
getting shots there, and so we proposed to put Henry on 
the best stand, and give him another chance, if possible, 
for a shot. Tired as he was, he was only too glad to 
accept the offer, and though it was rather late in the 
afternoon when he started around by the old logging 
road to reach the stand, we all felt hopeful. Louis, my- 
self, and our little spaniel, Sport, were to make the drive. 
We gave Henry twenty minutes start before we moved, 
and Louis and myself had hardly separated when, with 
a "yip, yip, yip," Snort jumped up three deer, and away 
they went, right toward Llenry's stand. I banged away 
to put him on his guard, and hurried on as fast as I 
could, expecting every moment to hear the "boom"? of 
his old shotgun, but it did not "boom." I began to get 
anxious, especially as Sport in a few minutes came back 
to me, and to think that the deer had turned off and we 
would not see them again. I was almost certain of this, 
when up they started again, with the little dog following 
as best he could through the brush and over the logs. 
This time I halted, and in a few minutes "boom, boom" 
went the shotgun, and then I started on the run. Soon 
there was^ another "boom," and then I saw a large doe 
vainly trying to run, and just able to raise up and lunge 
forward, falling to the ground each time with a crash. 
I finished her with a ball through the neck, just as Henry 
came up ready with another charge of buckshot. There 
was a happy man. We were both ha^py, and made the 
woods ring and echo with our shouts, until Louis, .far 
off to the right, knew that something had happened, and 
answered with his own glad call. Bv the time we had 
the doe dressed it was dark, but we hitched a rope to her 
and dragged her out to the roadside, where we concealed 
her behind a big tree to await the team which was. to 
take the boys out. It was a happy camp that night, for 
everyone rejoiced as much as Henry did over his good 
fortune. "It never rains but it pours;" and so it seemed 
in this case, for the next morning, while still-hunting, 
Henry jumped up another big doe, and killed her in her 
tracks with the first shot, so that when he went out he 
had the satisfaction of taking two as nice, fat deer with 
him as any hunter ever took from the woods, and instead 
of a long face and a gloomy look, he wore one of the 
happiest smiles that ever shone on any man's 
countenance. 
The rest of us did not remain in camp much longer, 
for soon winter began to set in, and the heavy snow and 
intense cold served to make us all ready to return home. 
About the only exciting chase experience we had 'after 
that, was a long chase after a three-legged deer which 
evidently had had one foreleg shot off at some time. In 
spite of the snow and its crippled condition, it succeeded 
in getting away from us, and though we frequently 
caught sight of it in a chase of an hour or more, we 
never got even one shot. Finally we had but one more day 
left, and so began to quit. 
As the end of the hunt draws near, its effect on the 
party is plainly to be observed. There is an apparent lack 
of interest, and the same ambition is not displayed. 
There is a gathering together of traps that must be 
packed. There is a general cleaning and scrubbing going 
on, and if there is a razor in camp it is kept busy the 
last day or two. Each one, after the deer are all in 
readiness to load, begins to tend to his own affairs. The 
Old Trapper started out and made a long turn, bringing 
in all of his traps; then he cleaned and dried them and 
sewed them up in a heavy bag he had provided for the 
purpose. He then went outside and gathered together 
the ax, saw, hatchets, rope and straps hanging in the 
trees, and all the pots and pans and cooking utensils and 
dishes of every name and nature, and then a big "washee 
washee" followed, for everything must be cleaned and 
dried before put away for a year of rest. Some of us 
turned to and helped him, and before long everything 
was in proper shape, piled up ready to be put in the 
chests, with just enough left to suffice for the next morn- 
ing's meal. Then each individual member began prowl- 
ing around to get their own effects in order. The hunt- 
ing clothes are laid aside with the compass, the heavy 
hunting knife, the old watch chain, the drinking cup, 
match-box, short brier pipe. Store clothes are resur- 
rected from the trunks, the broom brush put in operation, 
and then they are hung up over night that some of the 
wrinkles may be stretched out before morning. Derby 
hats take the _ place of the caps, and shoes and 
boots are substituted for the heavy socks and rubbers, 
packs or moccasins. Then the chests and trunks are 
