FOREST AND STREAM. 
178 
ciiat a skunk could find was destroyed, while back in 
ithe woods, where the foxes were supposed to come, 
(a simple band of iron or a little wire or a few old 
jplow points sufficed to keep them aWay from a sitting 
i turkey hen, and I never remember of one haying been 
! disturbed. Perhaps the skunk was also afraid of the 
arrangement. 
We had no trouble with weasels. Possibly they were 
not at all thick. The next great trouble was that 
1 pirate of the air, called the hen-hawk. This bird, if 
it once got the taste of chickens, would never leave 
> the vicinity for long when hungry. It became abso- 
llutely necessary to shoot the hated creature, if we 
j desired to have a young fowl left. They would go one 
iby one. The crows often took chickens around the 
Icoops, but were afraid of the hen running with them. 
: There was a sort of large gray rat that used to annoy 
us, but the hens could drive it away. 
One season a fox used to dig for grubs in the po- 
! tato hills in a secluded ravine every day. We could 
I see him at work, but he never once thought of visiting 
ithe chicken yard or the farm. There was no_ dog to 
ibother him either. We never caught foxes in traps 
i around the coops, nor did we see their tracks or sign 
1 about. From all this, I am led to believe that Reynard 
is not fiercely inclined during the spring, summer and 
I fall, at least, to annoy the grouse. They are used to 
ihim and promptly fly into a tree and watch until he 
ileaves. In fact, he can no more catch a grouse by 
idav than a dog can.- I know that foxes are crazy for 
imice. The squeak of one will always bring the fox. 
Peter Flint. 
Spider-Spun Silk. 
Consul Wm. H. Hunt writes from Tamatave Mada- 
gascar: A good deal of interest has been raised for some 
itime by the Official Quarterly Economic Review as to 
Ithe practical uses to which the webs of a large Mada- 
igascar spider might be applied to replace silk for 
woven fabrics. I know, from visits to the interior, that 
the webs, spun many feet across the walks or shady 
.avenues of gardens, are sufficiently strong to hang 
I thereon a light bamboo walking cane. At the Paris 
■Exposition of 1900 a whole piece of fabric, eighteen 
yards long and eighteen inches wide was exhibited 
which was woven out of this web, for which it was 
necessary to provide 100,000 yards of spun thread of 
•twenty-four strands. For its manufacture 25,000 spiders 
had to be brought into requisition, and these were pro- 
cured by offering the natives so much a hundred; but 
mot knowing or ignoring the purpose for which the 
insects were required, and having a get-rich-quick 
desire, they brought them in by basketsful, rnostly dead. 
;So it was found necessary for the windirig-ofiE ma- 
chines to go to the spiders, instead of calling in the 
spiders to the filatories. However, the piece of cloth 
I was completed, and was of a shimmering golden-yellow 
color. 
The idea of obtaining silk of the spider is an old 
lone, as distinguished men discoursed on the subject as 
I long ago as 1710 in France, but the first study of this 
; Madagascar spider {halabe, big spider) 'came up some 
'seven years ago, and the spinning of its web was then 
undertaken. It is only the female that spins. 
' The first difficulty in securing the thread direct from 
the insect consisted in contriving how to secure the 
' living spider, so as to wind off by some mechanical 
process from the insect. This was originally per- 
formed ;by confining the spiders in empty match boxes 
i with the abdomen protruding, which could be com- 
pared to so many reels from which the filatory winds 
them off^ The extraction of the web does not ap- 
parently inconvenience the insects, although care has 
to be taken not to injure them. From that stage was 
deriyed a irame of twenty-four small guillotines, in 
leach of which a spider is secured in such a manner that 
on one side protrudes the abdomen, while on the other 
the head, thorax, and legs are free. This precaution 
of keeping the legs out of the way is necessary, be- 
cause the spiders, when their secretions are spun off 
in this fashion, are liable to break off the web with 
their legs. 
It appears, in the opinion of many, to be an estab- 
lished fact that the Madagascar spider's web is capable 
of being woven into cloth which might warrant its 
cultivation for purposes of textile industry. The idea 
of using cobwebs as a hemostatic was known to the 
Greeks and Romans, and before the present antiseptics 
' were brought into use by medical science it was in uni- 
versal use for stopping the flow of blood from wounds 
and cuts. From an industrial point of view, the silk of 
the spinning spider (Epeira) has been known for cen- 
turies, even by the savages of Paraguay, and in the 
seventeenth century one Alcide d'Orbigny in South 
America ordered a pair of trousers of the material. 
Consul Plumacher, in his report of December 26, 1899, 
refers to the existence of a spinning spider in Venezuela, 
' which is apparently the same insect,* 
The Madagascar spider in question is the Nephila 
madagascariensis, and combines all the characteristics 
ot Arachnida in general. Its bite is not dangerous, al- 
though the irritation caused by its legs is annoying. 
The egg which produces this spider is_ laid by the 
female in a silky cocoon, one inch in diameter, of a 
yellow color at first, but turning white after an exposure 
of two or three months to the air, at the end of which 
time several hundred insects, the size of a pin-head, 
burst the shell and come out. Three months later the 
female is 2^4 inches long, while the male remains only 
one-sixth of that size. The female is generally black, 
*Silk-Spinning Spiders in Venezuela.— Consul Plumacher, of 
Maracaibo, under date of Dec. 26, 1899, reports that large silk- 
spinning spiders are found in the palm trees of Venezuela. Some 
produce white and others yellow silk. The consul understands 
that the silk has been made into handkerchiefs. A copy of the 
report, together with a specimen of silk which accompanied it, 
was referred to the Department of Agriculture. Under date of 
Jan. 27, 1900, the entomologist says that silk produced in this way 
cannot be made valuable commercially because of the trouble- 
some necessity of keeping the spiders separated to prevent their 
devouring each other. To keep them supplied with food— insects- 
involves considerable labor. Attemps to utilize the silk of a 
Madagascar spider of the same species some years ago resulted 
in the discovery that the product was more expensive than ordj- 
nary silk.— Republished from Consular Reports for March, 1900, 
mm 
lives in solitude, and only tolerates the presence of the 
male at the moment of procreation. The spiders are 
carnivorous and by preference frequent the foresto. In 
some of the wooded gardens in the suburbs of the 
capital, especially the old royal parks, they may be 
seen in millions, and would give the impression of be- 
ing gregarious, but this is not so, it being the abundance 
of food which brings them together in seeming peace 
and amity; but so soon as the supply^iails, they fight 
and devour each other. 
In the early attempts to rear them, 200 were placed 
in a wire-cloth case; they spun their webs over the 
walls of their prison until it was so completely covered 
that no mosquitoes or other insects could get in. Thus 
deprived of food, on the principle of the survival of the 
fittest, the stronger went to devouring the weaker until 
only a few were taken out alive, but these had attained 
an enormous size. 
This spider is little disposed to migrate from its 
abode, and submits, without resistance, to the manipu- 
lation of the filatory. 
The first experiments in Madagascar were due to a 
Catholic missionary, and his experience proved that 
after the laying period, or formation of the web, it can 
be reeled off five or six times in the course of a month, 
after which the spider dies, having yielded about 4,000 
yards. Native girls do the work. Each one has a 
straw basket at her side every morning fllled with live 
spiders, and another basket to receive them after they 
have been wound off. One dozen are locked in at a 
time, the ends of their webs are drawn out, collected 
into one thread, which is passed over a metal hook, 
and the reel is set in motion by a pedal. So soon as an 
insect gives out no more web it is replaced without 
stopping the wheel, and later on carried back to the 
park, where it requires nine or ten days before being 
ready for a second operation. The cost of this silk 
web is high; 55,000 yards of nineteen strands in thick- 
ness weigh only twenty-five grams (386 grains), which, 
calculating the time and labor of procuring and pre- 
paring it, brings it up to $40 a pound. 
Mofe Loon Talk* 
HoouiAM, Wash., Feb. 9. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
The loon differs from other birds in a number of ways. 
I have reason to think that many people are unaware of 
some, at least, of these peculiarities. 
The loon has a hide as tough as an ox, and their 
feathers cannot be plucked without first scalding the bird 
as you would a hog. This incident will give some idea of 
the toughness of the hide. About thirty-five years ago, 
when I was living in Michigan, a loon was shot at with a 
shotgun industriously all summer, without apparently do- 
ing him any harm. In the fall I killed him with a rifle, 
just to convince the people that a loon could be shot and 
killed. He had many times been shot at with a rifle by 
the same people who had used the shotgun, and they had 
become convinced that he dove so quickly that he dodged 
the shot in that way. I had seen them shoot at him a 
number of times, and I could see the splash of bullet or 
shot in the water before the loon dove. I ridiculed the 
idea of the dodging, and that led to my shooting him to 
support my contention. When I skinned the bird, I found, 
and counted, over a hundred No. 6 shot, and all of them 
stuck to the inside of the hide, and so doing him no per- 
manent harm. It is remarkable that he was never hit in 
the eye, nor sustained a broken wing. 
Another thing peculiar to the loon, is that after the 
chicks are hatched, if the mother wishes to move far, she 
will make a shallow dive and come up under her babies, 
and swim off with them on her back. The person that 
succeeds in photographing her under such conditions may 
well claim the pennant. Only once have I seen a loon 
shoulder her young, although for over twenty years I 
lived in the part of Michigan where then there was the 
best chance imaginable to watch loons. Now the timber 
has been cut off around most of the lakes, and such favor- 
able conditions for observation no longer exist. 
Although I have only once seen a loon shoulder her 
babies, I have seen her swimming with them on her back 
many times. Once one swam within twenty feet of me 
and never suspected my presence. 
One of their calls when sitting on the water, for volume 
beats that of any other bird or beast that I know of. I 
have heard them in the night, when they were more than 
five miles distant, for they only make that kind of call 
from the water, and there was no lake in that direction 
short of that distance. To say that the lopn is a very 
interesting bird is as mild as I can express it. 
W. A. LiNKLETTER. 
Wild Geese Headed Sottth. 
San Diego, Cal., Feb. 16.— Several flocks of wild geese 
in V's and strings passed over here this morning bound 
south, headed for the Mexican boundary, and bawling 
"Tee-a-wah-na ! Tee-a-wah-na!" (spelled Tia Juana), 
which is a custom house, and the nearest point over the 
line. The dazed fowls have been having a tough expe- 
rience up in Oregon and Washington, with a continued 
temperature much below all degrees of comfort. Usually 
they begin to fly north at this date, but now it's all the 
other way; same as the weather we have. I have never 
yet happened to strike a spot on earth where they have 
had so much rain as this district has had since Christmas. 
It has rained more or less nearly every day this month. 
Every stream and reservoir is bank full, and we are not 
likely to hear much about irrigation for two years at least. 
The main point now is to keep the fruit and vegetables 
from freezing. Such a universal ice-cold visitation the 
whole continent has not had since the second glacial 
period. When are we to have a third? 
I send by evening mail a photograph of my two-room 
bungalow (16 by 12) which I have had built as a study 
and retreat from the maddening mob. You may like to 
hang it up in the office, if there is any wall space left. 
I also inclose some interesting natural history notes 
from this and other sections— all good midwinter matter, 
and ordered a copy of the Northampton (Mass.) Gazette 
of the coming week mailed to you, as it will contain an 
extended descriptive sketch of this particular part of 
Southern California, with some pertinent suggestions ass 
to climate and local attractions, as well as the business 
outlook for the immediate future. It may serve to assist 
migrants coming this way. 
I am very well and hearty. Have sawed a year's supply 
of firewood for the house during intervals of pleasant 
weather. When it rains I prefer to hole in, as it is almost 
impossible to walk or wade through this slippery doby 
(adobe) slush, which at once becomes so hard as soon as 
it dries that it is a job to remove it from one's shoes. 
The easiest way is to wear cheap gums and throw them 
away after a trudge. Charles Hallock. 
Wild Turkey Weights* 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
A correspondent writes to ask how much I thought 
that big turkey weighed — the one I killed when the mule 
left me to walk home. I had to estimate his weight, of 
course; we carried no scales with us, but I could guess 
pretty close, and I guessed his weight to be 35 pounds; 
it was that or more. 
My mule stood 15 hands (5 feet) high. I tied the tur- 
key to the side cloak strap, passing the strap around the 
turkey's legs as high up as possible, then had to cut off 
the head and part of the neck to prevent it striking the 
mule's feet and starting him to kicking. I had intended 
to ride him home. Had I known that he did not intend 
to wait for me, he might have kicked and be blessed to 
him. 
This camp of ours was a first rate place for turkey. 
Hardly a day passed but what more or less of them would 
be brought in. The boys got the most of them. I needed 
my shotgun badly, but did not have it. I had a good one 
at the post — a Fox ,gun that I could take down and carry 
on the pack-mule ; but I had no shells loaded and had no 
time to load any, and could not buy any there or at the 
agency. That was not a shotgun country; few men there 
except army officers ever had a shotgun. 
We got another turkey here nearly as large as this one 
was only a day or two afterward. It had been drizzling 
and raining all night, and at daylight the chief sent the 
negro boy out to the herd to round up the ponies and 
see if any were missing. When he came back to report, 
he said that he had seen a big turkey up in a tree between 
camp and the herding ground, half a mile away, and gave 
it as his opinion that the turkey meant to stop there for 
the day; it would be too wet for him to leave; I might 
go and get him. 
"I might," I told him, "but it is as wet for me as it is 
for the turkey, and I don't need turkeys bad enough just 
now to hunt them in a rainstorm. I'll send Antelope 
after him." Calling the boy in I gave him my carbine, 
and then sent the negro boy, who had not had his break- 
fast yet, to point out that turkey. 
They came back in less than an hour with three turkeys, 
the big one and two smaller ones. The negro had to carry 
all three. There would be no danger of Antelope carry- 
ing any if I were not there to tell him to do^ it. He 
brought up the rear, carrying the gun and a broad smile. 
Making a pack-mule of the negro boy just suited him. 
Cabia Blanco. 
The Starling* 
Walking in Prospect Park the other day I saw 
a whole flock of English starlings, some eighteen or 
twenty in number. They were perched in the woods, 
pluming themselves and whistling as blithely as though 
the ground were not buried deep in snow and the 
lakes frozen half way to the bottom. It is evident that 
this bird has come to stay. But how he is managing 
to survive our winters, especially the last two, is 
certainly a cause for speculative wonders. In England, 
where the winters are usually mild and open, he has 
no difficulty in picking up a living in the fields, grubs 
and worms being his favorite diet. But what does he 
live upon here? Since last November the ground has 
been under snow, so that his favorite diet has not 
been procurable. We can only surmise, then, that he 
has taken to eating seeds and berries, for he does 
not forage about human dwellings like his compatriot, 
the sparrow; at least, the writer has never seen him 
so engaged. However, he appears to be making out 
the consequences and withal keeping a cheerful mind. 
If only for the beautiful sheen of his plumage (which 
completely outdoes that of the purple grackle),_ the 
starling would be an acquisition, but when to this is 
added his sweet note, we may very properly regard him 
as a prize. A singer in the true sense he is not, but 
his whistlings and twitterings and warblings are per- 
haps better than the sustained efforts of many a 
singer; for there is a sweetness and purity about them 
which simply ravishes the ear. Then he is pre-emi- 
nently a sociable bird and in a double sense — that is 
to say, he loves his kind and human kind, too. At 
least he trusts us, for he builds his nest almost- in- 
variably in the vicinity of our homes. Hence his music, 
like so much other bird music, is not lost, but is offered, 
as it were, to man instead of the deity of solitude. 
Francis Moonan. 
New York, Feb. 24. ■ 
Birds of SotJthern Michigan. 
Detroit, Mich., Feb. 21. — Editor Forest and Stream: 
For many years I have been engaged in compiling an 
authentic list of the birds of Southeastern Michigan. I 
am very anxious to secure the co-operation of the numer- 
ous sportsmen on Lakes Huron and Erie and Detroit and 
St. Clair rivers with regard to the water fowl and waders 
that come to their attention. I will be especially thankful 
for any information on the time of arrival, time of de- 
parture in spring and fall with exact dates, if possible; 
any notes on the rarer birds, occurrence in winter, etc. 
Notes on these birds are hard to obtain, and many 
valuable records are lost because the knowledge fails to 
reach an ornithologist. Notes on the scoters, ruddy duck, 
swan, Bartramian sandpiper, any of the plovers or 
phalaropes I especially wish. I will be pleased to hear 
from any so interested, and will be much in their debt 
Bradshaw H. Swales, 
46 Larned street. West, Detroit, Mich, 
