SB. 4, 1905.] 
POR£St AND STREAM. 
01 
The Nightingale^s Name. 
'.dit'or Forest and Stream: 
You will, I am sure, pardon the intrusion upon your 
atholic columns of one who is but a hunter of words ; 
Dr after all we have much in common. Let your hunters 
ring in the kill, let the philologists give it the name, 
len confusion will be avoided. That some such arrange- 
lent is needed will show in your own annals. Take four 
nglers from the cardinal points of no more than this 
ountry; let them essay to talk about the bass, and see 
ow intelligible to one another they can be if they con- 
Be themselves to common names. Another case : what 
re partridges, quail, grouse, unless you know the 
geography of the hunting grounds? But enough of 
Ipology. 
1 have chuckled to see you under the obsession of 
Cibipia ;" but that was in itself harmless ; it was so 
rotesque that it would never lead anyone astray. But 
hat a marv'elous thing it was ! It was not a word, for 
. was neither Russ nor English. It was rather a snap 
not of a Russian word, as much a pictograph as any one 
f the symbols on the hide in the Dakota winter count. 
. lere, however, is one that from the beauty of its 
I csentation might well lead the reader into blind courses. 
.1 Mr. Ernest Ingersoll's charming and thoughtful paper 
II "Bird Names" is the following: 
" 'Rosignol,' the French-Canadian name of the song 
narrow (and also the Louisiana Creole's name for the 
lockingbird), is a modification of rosignor — Lord of the 
;ose — the vSpanish name of the nightingale ; and is given 
1 each case not only in reference to- the fine melody, but 
J the fact that both birds frequently tune up at night." 
It is a fancy charged with poetry, this Lord of the 
lose ; 'tis pity that it does not chime with fact. Yet 
liope to show you that the real nightingale name is 
istinct with quite as much appreciation of the songster. 
I do- not immediately place the word rosignor; it 
iiiffices to note that the Spanish, name of the nightingale 
; riiisenor. To follow up the Lord of the Rose sugges- 
.on, we note in senor a good enough Lord, but the Rose 
as vanished. Now let us go- one step backward toward 
le origin of the word — let us cross the Pyrenees and find 
ic French rossignol. As before, we find some sugges- 
on of Lord, for signal might seem reminiscent of the 
talian signor; and the Rose is also^ in sight. But cross 
he Alps for a second backward step, and find the Italian 
'osignuolo. Here we lose the Lord suggestion out of 
he name definitely and permanently; the Rose may seem 
n].)erficially to persist. Take now the third step — not one 
f geography, but of time; go back to the classic Latin 
nd find the immediate parent of all these later names in 
usciniola, the caressing diminutive of luscinia. The 
.ord and the Rose together have vanished entirely. 
To discover just what luscinia meant to thqse who ap- 
licd the name to the nightingale, we must take the word 
pieces, and go back to the Sanskrit for its roots. It 
.1 m the Latin form three words,^ the last of which, be- 
ng atrophied into a mere formative sign, we may omit, 
''or the effective elements of the compound we find the 
'Wo Sanskrit roots gru and kan. 
The latter root, kai}^, represented to the Aryan fore- 
'athers the name of a sound of a certain quality, a sense 
hat has endured to our tongue in chant, chanticleer, 
ccent, incentive, and many more. It is the sound of 
iriging, the woodnote wild, the voice of the turtle heard 
n the land. 
The former root, gru, it may not be quite so easy to 
rasp in its bare simplicity. It refers to hearing in some 
ort ; not the mere physical fact of audition, but with a 
lear connotation that a thing is heard often— heard be- 
aiise it is worthy of the hearing. Some of its descend- 
nts are found in loud, clear, client, glory, declare, laud. 
f you can discover the elemental residual in these 
arying senses you will have the signification of the 
cot gru. 
It is no easy task for those untrained in the arts of 
1 imitive speech to grasp the relationless barrenness ol 
icse crude roots. They exist devoid of all the categories 
£ grammar— they are without voice or .number, they 
re not yet noun or verb. Therefore when we regard 
iscinia as a synthesis of gru and kan, it will be necessary 
3 supply the idea of interrelation without which our 
hinds fail to comprehend. The two elements are 
espectively in their last analysis these, hearing-sounding. 
' we view the sound as in the relation of subject, the 
.use is "the sound which is heard." If, on the other 
and, we incline to regard it as object, we develop the 
ollateral sense of "hark to the sound." 
That is to say,, our earliest ferebears knew a bird 
/hose note was so sweet as to- challenge their rude ad- 
iiration — it made them listen to its carols and trills. It 
ras so distinctively a characteristic of but one bird 
niong all they knew, that it served to identify that bird 
rom its fellows — the bird whose song is listened to. 
Ve do not know if this grukan bird in Kapilavastu was 
le nightingale, but it was certainly the sweetest singer 
f those forests through which the earliest Aryas fought 
icir way down from the snows. In Italy we find lus- 
iivia attached to the nightingale of Europe {Luscinia 
liilomela). But remember this, before it became a 
i ame it was a description. Three, four, five millenniums 
go there was set into grukan a sense so rich that it has 
ndured the attrition of all the ages, and is ready to 
n ing into new vitality when the first opportunity comes. 
iiat you will find in the citation from the "Bird Name" 
aper, for which we cannot thank Mr. Ingersoll too 
armly. In Canada rossignol is the natrie of the song 
narrow, not because of any slight superficial resemblance 
) the nightingale, but because of its rank as a songster, 
ar to the south the Creole calls his mockingbird ros- 
gnol, not that there is any resemblance except in that 
•arvelous song. 
That, to my way of thinking, is the wonder of the 
word, and for it we may unregrettingly let pass the 
dainty fancy of the Rose Lord. It is that countless ages 
ago a rude race, probably in the depths of neolithic raw- 
ness, were able to put such a signification into grukan 
as the name of some bird that when we misapply it — that 
is, misapply sO' far as concerns Luscinia philomeia — we 
are certain to rightly apply it, just as primitive man 
made it to be applied, to whatever hitherto, unnamed bird 
of our avifauna there be whose note is most challengingly 
sweet. Parolles. 
Bears, Trout, Foxes, Game. 
Elizabethtown, N. Y., Jan. 23. — Editor Forest and 
Stream: Official figures are at hand showing that 39 
black bears were killed in Essex county during the year 
1904. Four of these bears were killed by two men in one 
day during the late autumn. Pretty good for a county 
that was to be shunned by bruin after the black bear pro- 
tective measure went into effect. And by the way, what 
adjoining county has furnished more than 39 black bears 
during the year just passed into history? 
An old guide residing in the Boquet Valley — a close 
observer of nature, by the way — informs me that not 
only scores, but hundreds of minnows, chubs and small 
trout are being found dead in the small streams which 
empty into the Boquet River just above New Russia. He 
says that just after the big thaw a few days since he 
observed lhat large numbers of small fish had come up 
through the air-holes and were swimming around in the 
overflow. After the second or top ice commenced to 
form, the fish continued to be active in the water between 
the two form^ions of ice. It is his opinion that there is 
something in the water— a miasma — which is causing the 
death of the small fish, as they evidently were trying at 
the time of the recent overflow to get up into better 
water. He says he has examined many of the dead fish 
and finds no external marks whatever, and he also says 
he doesn't believe the loss of fish life was caused by 
freezing or lack of food. Has anyone a more rational 
explanation? 
I note that some men maintain that they have no 
knowledge to the effect that foxes do destroy game birds. 
As one who was born and brought up here in the Adiron- 
dacks, I can truthfully say that a fat fox is a rarity in 
this section. I have trapped and skinned quite a number 
of red foxes afid never yet saw a fat one. Furthermore 
I must say that the foxes in the Adirondacks do destroy 
game birds — particularly partridges. Here the foxes 
catch many partridges in the snow. The foxes also catch 
partridges during the spring months. In the month of 
May, 1884, I discovered a fox burrow on the old^ "Bullard 
Job," two miles distant from any human habitation. The 
old mother fox and her young were there, and there 
was ample evidence of slaughter around the entrance to 
the burrow. There were pieces of rabbits and partridge 
bones and feathers galore. I have no hesitation whatever 
in saying that the fox is the greatest enemy of the par- 
tridge to be found in this Adirondack region. 
George L. Brown. 
The Loon's Flight. 
HoQuiAM, Wash., Dec. 31. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
About natural history and ways and habits of birds and 
animals, if a person has observed a trait or condition. or 
way of doing things that is common to some bird or ani- 
mal, and has always seen it performed in one particular 
way, he is justified in concluding that it is never done 
otherwise. In the December 17 copy of Forest and 
Stream, appeared a very fine article in regard to the loon 
and its nest, and the patience and perseverance that the 
writer exercised in securing a chance for photographs. 
My only excuse for writing this is to correct an erroneous 
impression that he has got about the loon not being able 
to take wing from the water without the aid of a strong 
wind. 
I formerly lived in a part of Michigan where there were 
a great many small ponds or lakes, and many of them had 
during the summer a pair of loons on them. One of those 
small lakes was on the place that my father took up under 
the Homestead Act in '63, and the house was built only 
a short distance from the lake. It is more than likely that 
I have more than fifty times seen a loon fly from the 
water when there was no perceptible wind. It is some- 
what difficult, apparently, for them to do so, and a wind 
is a great help; but they seldom take to flight to escape 
danger, for their wings hit the water for a hundred yards 
before they are completely clear of it, and their wings are 
so small for the weight of their body (which is from 10 
to 12 pounds), that in flying from that lake on my father's 
place, which had tall timber all around, they would circle 
around three times before they could clear the tops of the 
trees. 
I say seldom take wing to escape danger. _ Now, a per- 
son that has never seen one take to the v/ing to escape 
danger might be excused for the belief that they never 
did so; but I have seen one do so. It was in Charleroix 
county, Michigan, and the loon was on a small lake 
through which ran a small stream. Another person and 
myself were driving some logs down the stream. The lake 
was so small — probably not more than two acres of sur- 
face—and there was no opening up or down the stream, 
for the tree-tops interlaced above the stream, and the loon 
was so alarmed at what doubtless appeared to him to be 
an arrangement to overwhelm him, that he took to flight 
without any aid from the wind; and in circling around 
to get above the timber, he came so close to me that I 
tried to play taseball with him. I struck at him with the 
pike-pole and yelled "shoo!" That completed his demor- 
alization, and he dove in the swamp with a crash like a 
runaway steer. If I had not seen that, I doubtless would 
always have been under the impression that they never 
flew to escape danger. W. A. Linkletter. 
The Dog and the Bone. 
I have sometimes seen a dog bury in the ground a 
bone for which he did not seem to have any present 
need. I have always understood that he did this on the 
principle which actuates a provident man to lay up 
something "for a rainy day." This may be, though I 
have never known a dog to dig up the bone afterward; 
3'et some persons tell me they have known him to do 
this. I should think the dog must be hard pressed by 
famine that would attempt to gnaw a bone covered with 
clay and dirt, as this bone must be after being buried 
in the ground. If the dog hides it away through any 
such provident forethought as this, it must be the 
slightest remnant, a mere adumbration of a former in- 
stmct of his race. He does not pursue this practice in 
the steady, methodical way in which an ant or a bee or 
a squirrel lays up a stock of food against a time of 
need. With him, it is only a fitful and rare occurrence. 
His long domestication and the ages through which 
he has received his food from the hand of his master, 
have obliterated largely the sense of this necessity 
from his mind, if he may be supposed to have a mind. 
The f ox, when he has had the good fortune to cap- 
ture several fowls at the same time, will, it is said, 
secrete such as he has no present need for under a bush 
or behind a log. I remember that in Rowland Robin- 
son's pleasant book, "Sam Lovel's Boy," a young fox is 
represented as doing this. "He began burying the leg 
of a lamb in the loose earth, but desisted when he saw 
that the eyes of all his mates were upon him, then un- 
earthed the half-buried treasure and sought a new hid- 
ing place." I do not understand that the wolf has this 
food-hiding instinct. Gilbert White, of Selborne, says 
in his quaint way that he had "some acquaintance with 
a tame brown owl," which, when full, hid, like a dog, 
what he could not eat. 
"The origin of most of our domestic animals," says 
Darwin, "will probably forever remain vague. But I 
may here state," he continues, "that, looking to the 
domestic dogs of the whole world, I have, after a labori- 
ous collection of all known facts, come to the conclu- 
sion that several wild species of Canidae have been 
tamed, and that their blood, in some cases mingled to- 
gether, flows in the veins of our domestic breeds." He 
mentions a dog whose great-grandfather was a wolf, 
and this dog still betrayed its wild ancestry in the fact 
that it never approached its master in a straight line 
when called. But which species of the Canidse from 
which the dog may have descended has the food-hiding 
instinct or habit I have nowhere seen stated. 
T. J. Chapman. 
The Nest of the Chaffinch. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
In his article on bird names in your issue of January 
12, Mr. Ernest Ingersoll, referring to the nest of the 
British chaffinch, says : 
"The fact that its nest, which is carefully concealed, 
is a dome-shaped, muff-like affair, entered through an 
obscure opening in the side," etc. 
Is not your contributor mistaken about this? I was 
familiar with the nest of the chaffinch in my youth, and 
it certainly is not dome-shaped. In fact, it is perfectly 
open at the top like a cup._ I may state further that it is 
decidedly the most beautiful bird's nest built in Great 
Britain, or possibly in any country. Others there are 
more elaborate or ingenious, but none so beautifulj I 
think. At any rate, there is none more so. It is woven 
of fine moss and hairs for the most part. Within it is 
like a lady's chamber, so soft and silken is it, while 
without it is rounded with perfect symmetry and studded 
with silvered lichens. The object of the latter will be 
apparent when it is stated that the nest is usually found 
in the fork of a hoary apple tree or hawthorn bush. So 
well does it harmonize with its surroundings that only 
the cunning eye of a school boy or professional ornitholo- 
gist would discover it. I have known persons to whom 
I pointed it out in my youthful days to tell me again 
and again that they could see no nest. It is truly a 
marvel of bird architecture. No doubt the skill of the 
chaffinch is inherited, and yet it is curious to note (as 
recorded by Mr. Dixon in his recent work on birds' 
nests) that a pair of the birds which had been brought to 
New Zealand from England departed very abruptly in 
their nest building from the family type. What they 
built was a hanging structure, not unlike that of the 
oriole, only open at the top. But perhaps this was a 
mere freak after all. Birds, as well as men, however, 
when transported from their native habitat, are sure to 
change their methods and even their natures to a certain 
extent. Some are more conservative — more retentive of 
heredity — than others, but all submit sooner or later to 
the influence of their new environment F. M. 
New York, Jan. 23. 
Mr. Ryan was in the room with a friend. In the room was an 
open grate fire, which had died down. Mr. Ryan looked around 
for something to place on the coals. He found a lump of what he 
thought was lamp black, and broke off a piece weighing about 
iVz pounds and placed it on the live coals. Immediately there 
was an explosion, which threw them out of their chairs and broke 
the plate-glass window. Fire spread to papers in the room, but 
before the firemen arrived, the flames had been extinguished with 
a few pails of water. The only thing that prevented the place 
from being destroyed was the fact that this powder had been in 
the lumber room for ten years, and had lost much of its strengfth. 
—New York World. 
