274 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
I[ April 8, 1905. 
YELLOW adder's TONGUE. 
broad yellow ribbon upon the greening grass; the 
other is a picture in the woods seen when in the midst 
of a growth of sombre pines one comes upon a glade 
sparsely interspersed with alder, with broad-leafed 
grasses, and sedges, furnishing a charming canvas upon 
which nature has painted the golden glory of the mari- 
gold blossoms that stand more erect and on longer 
stems than in the open fields. 
The flowers, thus so briefly and inadequately con- 
sidered, are perhaps the most beautiful of the April 
wild flowers, but they are by no means the only ones to 
be found by those so fortunate as to study the calendar 
of the fields and woods at this delightful season. We 
see in the outer world the things which are in our 
minds, and when we go afield in search of flowers, 
every by-path will yield us new discoveries. 
Clarence M. Weed. 
Three Appafently New Mammals. 
In the proceedings of the Biological Society of Wash- 
ington, Dr. D. G. Elliott has described three mammals 
from the extreme northwest which he regards as new. 
These are a great timber wolf very large and black and 
with certain skull characters regarded as of specific im- 
portance. This form i§ called Canis pamhasileus, mean- 
ing monarch of all. M-om the Queen Charlotte's Island 
is described a new otter, a large and powerful animal, 
and from the upper waters of the Sushitna River in the 
Mt. McKinley region of A.laska, a wolverine, noticeable 
for its dark color, and especially for the dark head, which 
is found in all of six specimens which Dr. Elliott has. 
There are also gkull characters which distinguish this 
from the eastern form. 
Our Diminishing Game* 
Philadelphia, Feb. 24.— Editor Forest and Stream: 
Mr. L. R. Nelson, writing from Winchester, N. H., under 
date of February 13, as published in Forest and Stream 
of February 18, page 136, takes exception to the state- 
ment that the depletion of game and other birds is charge- 
able to the depredations of foxes. I. agree with him. 
While foxes, hawks, etc., make inroads on the feathered 
tribe, it is nothing more than the equation of the laws of 
nature which has existed since the beginning. 
The cause of the decrease of quail and other game is 
the increased demand of the people, which demand has 
not been met by a corresponding increase in the supply. 
It cannot but end in one result if so continued — extinction. 
This general increased consumption has made it profit- 
able for the market-hunter to make gunning and hunting 
a special calling. The market-hunter does not depend 
altogether on his gun— even though it be a "pump" — for 
results, but uses other means to capture game, such as 
nets, dead-falls, and other devices. As long as the de- 
mand for game continues, just so long will the hunter 
find means to procure it, notwithstanding the several 
State laws. 
In going into a restaurant some years ago to order 
game out of season was not thought of; but now, with 
cold storage facilities, you expect any kind of game in 
any season, and are seldom disappointed. The people 
have been educated to a taste for game, and it is unlikely 
that it will diminish. 
This increased consumption without adequate restock- 
ing is the real cause of the depletion of game of all 
kinds. Under this great demand it cannot be expected 
that the supply will continue unless some effective action 
is taken not only to protect the game as it exists, in 
proper seasons, but to propagate the different species 
under responsible societies or State commissions. An- 
other reason for the growing scarcity of game is the in- 
creased number of .sportsmen. 
The main question, however, is how can the general 
public be gratified in its tastes and at the same time give 
the sportsman his pleasure. 
One suggestion is, breed and raise birds for market. 
Possibly when understood this could be made a profitable 
enterprise; this would leave the game at large for the 
sportsman. If some such plan was carried out on a large 
scale it would have a tendency to put the market-hunter 
out of the business ; when, from self-protection, he would 
seek new fields for his livelihood. 
Small enterprises, while commendable, will not result in 
the continued supply of game. It must be an all-together 
pull, and pull hard. Subscriber. 
[As has frequently been pointed out in Forest and 
Stream, game birds can perfectly well be domesticated, 
and will be when the right man sees in it a profitable busi- 
ness. On the other hand, when domesticated, there is no 
reason for supposing that they will be any more popular 
for food than chickens, turkeys, tame ducks or guinea 
fowls are to-day. If the game bird has anything specially 
to recommend it in respect to flavor, that flavor comes 
from the food it eats and the varied life that it leads. A 
partridge shut up in a barnyard and fed corn all its days 
would be no better than any other barnyard fowl. 
If our correspondent will turn back to Forest and 
Stream of May 7, 1904, he will read there an account of 
'A New Game Bird" which is likely to fill the wants of 
hotel and restaurant keepers so soon as they learn of its 
excellence. Meantime we here in America would do well 
to follow ihe example of those friends of ours on the 
other side of the water, whom we are fond of calling 
"slow Englishmen," and learn the art of breeding grouse, 
partridges, pheasants and wild ducks for shooting purposes.] 
THE SWAMP CABBAGK 
Colormg of Ducks. 
Chicago, March 19.— During the present shooting 
season two ducks of unusual color markings have come 
under my observation. One of these was a drake mallard, 
apparently all drake markings with these exceptions: 
There were no curled feathers at juncture of back and 
tail feathers. The breast plumage was that of a hen 
mallard. 
The other duck would be taken for a ring-bill drake, 
but the superficial breast plumage is the rich golden 
brown or red of the robin. Beneath the breast feathers 
are white. I would like to, ask if these anomalies are at 
all common. C. H. Keogh. 
[Without seeing the specimen we should have to con- 
jecture what the birds were. The first may have been 
an ordinary male mallard that was late in changing from 
the summer to the winter plumage. As to the second, 
we would not hazard a guess. The fact that the males of 
many species of ducks assume for a brief period in sum- 
mer a plumage much like that of the females — though 
generally known to naturalists — does not as yet appear to 
be understood by gunners at large. Nevertheless it is ex- 
plained with some detail in Grinnell's 'American Duck 
Shooting," p. 82. This change of plumage usually begins 
late in June or early in July, and by the end of Septem- 
ber the winter plumage has been resumed. It would be 
interesting to know at what season our correspondent 
secured the mallard above referred to.] 
A Reminiscence of the Rockies. 
In the fall of 1896 I decided upon taking a hunting 
trip to the White River country in Colorado. At that 
time the White River country was well supplied with 
game and might almost be considered a sportsman's 
paradise, or, as an Indian described it to me, like the 
"happy hunting grounds." Deer were very plentiful, 
and around Hayden and in California Park antelope 
were quite numerous, although very shy. Bull elk oc- 
casionally adorned the landscape with their imposing 
presence and splendid spread of antlers. The cougar 
mijght occasionally be heard, although never seen unless 
hunted with dogs. Old "Silver Tip" frequented the 
neighborhood, but had a way of making his great 
bulky form vanish like some apparition; his depreda- 
tions, where he had mangled the carcass of some other 
animal or disturbed the habitations of a lot of small fry 
under a rotten log, furnished evidence of his presence. 
There was enough large game in the country to give some 
idea of what it was one time when the red-skin was 
the' undisputed proprietor of the soil. 
I had secured through correspondence the services 
of a guide who had been well recommended. Having 
heard considerably about the cowboy, my curiosity had 
been somewhat excited, and I desired to form a better 
acquaintance from actual experience. The West was 
then to my mind a geographical area, possessing a 
certain wildness and wooliness, which my imagination 
pictured to me. The rapid trend of events makes a 
book describing its general conditions seem behind the 
times almost as soon as it is published. Much of what 
I had read and heard, however, seemed to me like a 
fairy tale in the face of actual experience, although, 
siUowirig for exaggeration, it had back of it all a 
foundation of facts. Every time I have visited the 
;VVest, I have noticed the rapid progress of change. 
During my first hunting experience I noticed that the 
typical bad man, of whom I had heard so much, with 
his rough and ready manner, accoutred with dangerous 
weapons, his social position established by the size of 
his private grave-yard, was wanting. The facetious 
desperado, who had a pleasant way of requesting the 
"tenderfoot" to dance while he marked time with his 
six-shooter, was "non est." An unappreciative com- 
munity had organized from time to time a few "neck- 
tie parties," and the experience of such gentlemen has 
since become interesting themes for romance. The 
large settled communities of course had the same 
cosmopolitan air and character that one finds in the 
East. There was, nevertheless, something in the social 
atmosphere which impressed you with the feeling that 
evefything was very different. The cowboy, of whom 
I had heard so much, I learned to recognize as gen- 
erally a very quiet, civil person; never going out of 
his way to do extraordinary thirigs nor to make him- 
self conspicuous. A man of few words and not in- 
clined to familiarity, he is essentially a man of action, 
and wants to, take a short cut to accompHsh his pur- 
pose. If any one should conclude that his reserve and 
his reticence were the result of mental torpor, he would 
make a great mistake. Apparently taking little in- 
terest in a new acquaintance and seeming to lack ordi- 
nary curiosity, I find that he is, notwithstanding, a 
very close observer and has a quiet way of extracting 
information without appearing eager to do so. 
My guide engaged to meet me at Buford, Colo. 
Being unacquainted with the locality, I wrote to ob- 
tain information about the nearest railroad station. I 
was informed that Rifle was the proper station to 
stop at. When I arrived at Rifle, I inquired about 
the best way to get to Buford, and was inform«d, to my 
surprise, that I had a journey by wagon of sixty miles 
to make. This was my first experience with the mag- 
nificent distances of the West. The result was that 
I misgaged the time of meeting my guide by an en- 
tire day. When I arrived at my destination on the 
evening of the next day, my guide, whom I saw for 
the first time, rode up on a mustang, seated in a big 
Mexican saddle. With an easy air as though we had 
been acquainted all our lives, he expressed his pleasure 
at meeting me and advised all necessary arrangements 
for the morrow's start on our hunt back in the 
mountains. It is interesting to notice how quick and 
skillfully an experienced man can pack a lot of horses, 
apportioning the loads with great fairness and balanc- 
ing the dead weight, so that it will ride easily on the 
backs of the not overwilling animals. Packing seems 
easy, and if you want to know how easy it is, try it; 
and after you have ridden a mile or so, perhaps, some 
critical beast will begin to subject your work to a 
severe test by "bucking." To express the state of 
your feelings when this happens would be impossible, 
unless your sympathetic guide, who is generally an 
expert in swearing, can help you out. 
The first day's journey was a rather long and tedious 
one, a large part of it through monotonous stretches 
of sage brush. When at length the timber was reached, 
the change was most aggreeable. We arrived at our 
destination without a mishap, unless having my legs 
squeezed between the horse and a tree a couple of 
times could be considered as such. Although my guide 
knew his business as a guide, I could not recommend 
him as a first-rate cook. His efforts at making bread 
proved a flat failure, and we had to do without the staff of 
life. The canned provisions, which required practically 
no skill in their preparation, made the inefficiency of 
the cooking less apparent. The camp being pitched in 
a well timbered and picturesque spot, we spent the 
rest of the afternoon in arranging everything and 
laying our plans for the next day. The waning suR- 
