Dec. 17, 1904-]' 
FOREST AND STREAM 
517 
by the light of the moon ; and one night I improvised 
a better light yet. I caught a large jelly-like creature 
called pyrosoma, a marvelous light-giver^ and placing it 
in a tall jar, Bob stirred it with a twig while L held the 
book, and I may say that I have read by the light of a 
jellyfish, which reminds me that some years ago Dr. 
Duboise sent me a photograph which he had taken by the 
light of one of the phosphorescent insects. _ 
We had gone about an eighth of a mile when Chief, 
who was in the lead, stopped and lifted his hand for us 
to also stop. The peculiar musical trill or tinkling of 
the water as it gleamed about our feet, the distant cry of 
some far-away bird, the occasional crash of some great 
fish a long way off, were the only sounds. But peering 
over Chief's shoulder I made out an indistinct object 
standing in the phosphorescence, not one hundred feet 
away; then I heard a distinct hiss, like escaping steam. 
Not a move was made. That the turtle was suspicious 
and had stopped at the water's edge was evident, and it 
would turn and make off at the slightest alarm. So we 
stood and literally held our breath. 
Suddenly I had an uncontrollable desire to sneeze. _ I 
smothered myself as best I could, but the quiet was dis- 
turbed, we saw the dim shape turning, and as one man 
rushed ahead. The animal had completely turned, and 
was in about a foot of water when I tripped over its 
broad back and fell sprawling upon it, the fore flippers 
striking the water like the flails of a windmill, while the 
men tried to seize them. In its struggles it moved ahead 
rapidly, and as the water deepened suddenly, I found my- 
self drenched, and received several blows in the face, 
which threw me off. Chief now fell upon the turtle and 
grasped it at the back of the neck, and endeavored to lift 
it so that John and Bob could get hold of the flippers; 
but the big creature seemed twice as heavy as the other 
turtle, was indeed a loggerhead. Chief called to me to 
keep away from its head, as it would bite, so I slipped be- 
hind. At that instant the turtle made a vicious rush, and 
we all stepped into a deep place over our heads; the 
turtle diving took Chief under and disappeared, the latter 
coming up immediately and swimming back. 
I had heard that turtles were stupid, but my observa- 
tions do not carry this out, and I have watched them 
many a night. A green turtle when it came up to breathe, 
thirty feet offshore, first stopped and looked around. See- 
ing the coast clear, she swam in and grounded ; then again 
looked around and came out of the water and listened. At 
least this is what I assumed was the mental process. I 
was lying not fifteen feet from her; she must have seen 
me; but doubtless thought I was a bunch of weed, for 
after apparently listening she moved up the beach, a hard 
and laborious process. She stopped about twenty feet 
above high-water mark, then moved along the brush ten 
feet or so, then in part of a circle, then facing the sea 
she began to scrape up the sand with her hind flippers. 
The operation of laying fifty eggs occupied about twenty 
minutes, and she was out of the water three-quarters of 
an hour. When she had finished, she moved around 
clumsily, and appeared to push the sand over the eggs, 
then wheeled about over the spot so that every trace of 
her presence was destroyed ; then instead of going directly 
down from the nest she clambered along the sand for a 
distance of thirty or forty feet, and I went with her, 
but lower down, when she turned and made for the water 
quicker than I would have believed. Half way down she 
met me; I sprang upon her broad back, and she carried 
me to the water's edge with ease ; there I let her go. I 
hunted up the eggs and had difficulty in finding them, 
though I had seen them laid. Turtle eggs are an acquired 
taste, and I am confident I shall never acquire it. The 
men ate them raw with relish. 
Reached camp at 4:30, and having cut up the turtle and 
taken my first lesson in dissecting one, I brought home 
about ten pounds of meat as my share, and Bob began to 
cook calipie, Chief to make turtle balls — a sort of hash — 
and Long John prepared a steak. It was every man for 
himself, and I compromised on some of all. Our break- 
fast, considering that we were at the jumping-off place, 
one hundred and fifty miles from anywhere, was worth 
remembering. Friend grunts, taken alive from the well of 
the Bull Pup, roasted young crayfish, green turtle steak, 
green turtle balls, green turtle calipie, hoe cake, with 
plenty of "hoe" to< it, coffee, "Long John's special" fried 
potatoes, snipe roasted over the coals. 
Our camp was primitive. A tent for myself, bed of bay 
cedar boughs ; the men preferred the ramada. We had 
rubber blankets, in case of rain, an old stove, or the top 
of one, dug up out of the sand where Bob had cached it 
some time in the past; so we had some of, if not all, the 
comforts of home. I was surprised at the knowledge the 
men had of the island. They knew where every cactus 
patch w as - I discovered this when we were crossing it. 
I would enter what appeared to be a lead, and Bob 
would say, "This leads into a patch of cactus," and it did. 
I learned later that they knew it so well because they had 
dug about every foot of it over for Spanish booty that is 
supposed to have been buried here. On the east side a 
big galleon was wrecked some years ago when galleons 
sailed the Spanish main, and an old sea captain, whom I 
later met, found a thousand dollars on the beach; so once 
a year Bob retired to East Key, fortified himself, and dug. 
At the first sign of sunrise, and it came up through 
vermillion skies, on a sea of glass, the birds began their 
cries, and discovering our presence it became a roar be- 
yond belief in its intensity, and at times maddening. Yet 
it was possible to stop it for a second or two. Shouting 
at the top of my voice, every bird became silent, and with 
one accord the vast swarm swooped down several feet, 
then rose again to continue the babel of sounds. There 
was one revenge — their eggs were excellent, and we ate 
j them in every style. They were also a ludicrous source of 
J danger when walking through the bush with hundreds of 
I terns struggling upward. Many dropped their eggs in 
midair, and Long John received one of these missiles 
fairly on the top of his head. The glittering generalities 
in which he indulged need not be recorded. Long John 
had a superior air, but it did him an injustice; he was 
just a plain man. 
All communications for Forest and Stream must be 
directed to Forest and Stream Pub. Co., New York, to 
receive attention. We hove no other office. 
New Hampshire Commissioners. 
The Fish and Game Commissioners have done some 
good work in New Hampshire during the past year, in 
enforcing the laws placed in their charge. The Concord 
Patriot published a complete list of the names and resi- 
dences of the parties against whom the" laws have been 
enforced ; from which it appears that $5,475 in fines have 
been collected; beside that Timothy Chauncey, of Albany, 
for killing a deer in the close season, was given six 
months in jail; Augustus and William L. Evans, of 
Stewartstown, illegal fishing, 60 days in jail; Philosse 
Auger, killing deer, six months in jail; Leslie Merrow, 
Conway, dogging deer, 60 days in jail. 
The offenses for which fines were collected were, fish- 
ing in closed waters; killing fawn; dogs killing deer; 
killing deer in closed season; dog chasing deer, second 
offense; illegal fishing; killing raccoon in closed season; 
hunting deer in closed season; hunting deer without 
license; killing fawn without license; killing otter in 
closed season ; hunting with a ferret ; lobster car not 
marked; short lobsters; killing song birds; taking par- 
tridge out of the State; using gill net; catching short 
trout; chasing deer with a boat; selling trout; short 
bass; putting sawdust in waters; killing woodcock in 
closed season; snaring partridge; shipping partridge out 
of the State; short fish. 
The above shows that the office of Fish and Game 
11 
ill 
JOSEPH W. COLLINS. 
From a Photograph in 1893. 
Commissioner is not a sinecure position by any manner 
of means. It requires pretty sharp eyes and vigilant atten- 
tion to catch violators of the law whose scene of opera- 
tions is largely in the woods, ponds and brooks over such 
an extended territory. Of course the commissioners are 
not responsible for the hedgehog business, which did not 
come under their supervision. 
Three Pounds in Three Hours. 
Editor Forest and Sir cam: 
In your issue of December 10, Mr. Henry Stewart has 
an article entitled, "The Rainbow Trout," in which he 
says: "A 3-pounder hooked by me in one of the ponds 
from a boat, near dusk one evening, occupied all my atten- 
tion for three hours,, when he kindly leaped into the boat." 
I have told a good many stories in your columns, and 
have had such kind_ treatment from the angling fraternity, 
as to make me hesitate to express any doubt of any fish 
story; butl cannot refrain from saying that it is diffi- 
cult to believe that the stop-watch used in recording the 
time consumed by this remarkable fish was perfectly 
accurate. 
■ I have caught many rainbow and black-spotted trout, 
some pretty nearly equalling the weight of Mr. Stewart's 
old and long-attached friend, and even in swift water 
have never known the largest of them able to make any 
resistance after ten minutes' play or so. I have taken 
fontinalis and grilse of three pounds and considerably 
over very many times on light tackle and in the most 
favorable, water for them, and while I used no method of 
timing, the fight, I am convinced that the strongest and 
biggest of. them all, in the swiftest water, was landed 
within twenty minutes at most, and probably less. 
The fontinalis in the North Carolina mountains are de- 
cidedly less vigorous and strong, weight for weight, than 
those found in more northern waters, and trout taken- in 
a pond .ought to be landed considerably sooner than those 
of the same weight in running streams. 
I hope that the remaining statements in Mr. Stewart's 
extended article are less likely to incur the reproach of 
inaccuracy than the one I have quoted. 
A. St. J. Newberry. 
Clkvhland, O., Dec. 10. 
Lake Champlain Fishing. 
The committee appointed by the Senate and Assembly 
at their last session to take up matters with a like com- 
mittee from Vermont and the Parliaments of Ontario and 
Quebec, consisting of Senators S. G. Prime and T. H. 
Cullen, and Assemblymen Willis A. Reeve and H. W. 
Knapp, together with a representative of the Forest, Fish 
and Game Commission, who is to act with said commit- 
tee, met at the office of the Forest, Fish and Game Com- 
mission on the 29th of November and organized by the 
election as chairman of Chief Game Protector J. W. 
Pond, who had been previously designated to represent 
the Forest, Fish and Game Commission. One of the 
main objects of this committee is to secure the repeal by 
the Parliament of Quebec of a law which now permits the 
wholesale netting of fish in that portion of Lake Cham- 
plain lying within the Dominion of Canada during the 
early part of the season when pike, pickerel and bass are 
on their spawning beds. The committee above referred 
to have been recently advised that resolutions had been 
offered in the Vermont Legislature with a view of ap- 
pointing a committee and that the Legislature of Ver- 
mont are enacting measures in the interest of fish protec- 
tion in Lake Champlain which pleases very much the en- 
tire population of this State where it borders Lake Cham- 
plain, and the numerous anglers and tourists who visit 
that beautiful summer resort from Albany and vicinity. 
The committee's work with the Province of Ontario will 
be confined to recommending legislation for uniform laws 
along the Niagara and St. Lawrence rivers, also Lake 
Ontario. 
A Tarpon Fishers* Club. 
Mr. Geo. R. Collins, of Kansas City, Mo., who has 
fished for tarpon in Florida waters for the last ten years, 
wishes to get in correspondence with persons and associa- 
tions interested in fishing and hunting, for the purpose 
of organizing a tarpon fishing club. His further idea is 
to build a club house on an island in Charlotte Harbor, 
and to build up a tarpon club that will equal the Tuna 
Club of California. Mr. Collins writes that he owns 
several available islands in this region, and that he will 
donate one to the proposed club. 
— ® — - 
Death of Mr. R. H. Moore. 
The death of our esteemed old friend, Mr. R. H. 
Moore, the well-known artist in black and white, has re- 
moved a very prominent figure from the dog world. Mr. 
Moore, as a delineator of prize dogs in pen and ink,. stood 
without a rival. Although not doggy himself, he had a 
remarkable grasp of the features of the classical canine, 
and whether it was an imposing St. Bernard, a bulldog, 
Chow Chow, or a diminutive toy, his pencil seemed to 
traverse the necessary lines as faithfully as if the artist 
had been a born specialist of each variety. There can be 
no doubt that Mr. Moore's sketches of up-to-date canine 
life have been one of the great factors in the education of 
the kennel public, and will be handed down to posterity 
as marking the position and progress of dog breeding 
during the latter half of the 19th and beginning of the 20th 
century. 
Mr. Moore was specially retained to contribute to our 
contemporary, The Stock-Keeper, when it came to Lon- 
don now twenty years ago, and has been its faithful illus- 
trator up to the time of his death. Indeed, so recently as 
a week ago he was busy drawing sketches for this paper, 
laying down his pencil never to take it up again. 
A genial soul, who took life philosophically, and never 
made an enemy if he could help it, the late Mr. Moore 
was a gentleman who will be greatly missed, and whose 
position it will be difficult, if not impossible, to fill. His 
death took place on the 27th ult, as the result of bron- 
chitis, at the age of about 60 years. — Our Dogs. 
The Rescue. 
Adown the lane on frenzied feet 
Fled like a wind the maiden sweet; 
A large dog followed on her trail 
With open mouth and truncate tail. 
Shriek after shriek the maiden gave; 
And would no hero run to save? 
Well, we should smile! For at her cry 
The hero came in quick reply. 
With resolution naught could clog 
He fiercely whistled to the dog! 
And at his master's note the chase 
The dog forsook with perfect grace! 
* * * *. * * 
They married? Ah, ca va sans dire! 
Elsewise 'twould be a case most queer. 
But oftimes, when the lady sleeps, 
The husband wakes and weeps and weeps, 
And drones, as if he'd slipped a cog, 
"Why did I interrupt the dog?" 
— New Orleans Times-Democrat. 
At Home with the Flamingos. 
Every ornithologist, every lover of nature, and every 
lover of beauty, ought to read Mr. Frank Chapman's very 
remarkable article in the current Century Magazine. 
Mr. Chapman is well known as an experienced 
naturalist, and one who has done much hard work. It is 
for that reason that he has attained his present emi- 
nence. What he did in the case of the flamingos was to 
discover, after years of inquiry, the breeding place of a. 
great colony of birds, to visit that colony, to take up his 
quarters in a blind, at first at the border of the colony, 
and then literally in its center, where he observed the 
life habits of the birds and took twelve dozen photo- 
graphs of them at the shortest possible range... Such 
work we fancy has never been done in the case of any 
other bird, and certainly not in the case of any large and 
rare wild bird. Mr. Chapman's article is most interest- 
ing; his pictures are admirable, and the Century Com- 
pany has done its part in bringing them out in a series 
of beautifully colored plates. Author and publisher alike 
are to be congratulated on this extraordinary and inter- 
esting production. 
