Forest and Stream 
A Weekly Journal of the Rod and Gun. 
Copyright, 1904, by Forest and Stream Pubushing Co. 
Terms, $4 a Year. 10 Cts. a Copy. 
Six Months, $2. 
NEW YORK, SATURDAY, JULY 2 9, 1908. 
I VOL. LXV.— No. 5 
i No. 346 Broadway, New York. 
^The Forest and Stream is the recognized medium of entertain- 
ment, instruction and information between American sportsmen. 
The editors invite communications on the subjects to which its 
pages are devoted. Anonymous communications will not be re- 
garded. While it is intended to give wide latitude in discussion 
of current topics, the editors are not responsible for the views of 
correspondents. 
Subscriptions may begin at any time. Terms: For single 
copies, $4 per year, $2 for six months. For club rates and full 
particulars respecting subscriptions, see prospectus on page iii. 
The object of this journal will be to studiously 
promote a healthful interest in outdoor recre= 
ation, and to cultivate a refined taste for natural 
objects. Announcement in first number of 
Forest and Stream, Aug. 14, 1873. 
SOME PRIMITIVE PLANT FOODS— I. 
We are accustomed to speak of the Indian as a hunter, 
to think that his food consisted solely of flesh, and that 
f he lived purely on the products of the chase. This im- 
; pression is very far from true. The Indian — like man 
i everywhere except in the Arctic regions — is an omnivor- 
; ous creature, and while he may subsist chiefly on flesh he 
also greatly relishes vegetable food. As a matter of fact, 
the great majority of the aboriginal tribes of North 
■ America were cultivators of the ground. The popular 
idea that the Indian was a nomad wandering from place 
to place and never camping twice in the same spot arises 
from an entire misconception of facts. We have been told 
for years by the newspapers and other equally ill-informed 
authorities that the Indians were wanderers, and we have 
come to believe that this was true. It was not. The 
Indians lived in very large measure in permanent vil- 
lages, near which they had their cultivated fields, and 
which they occupied for the greater part of each year. At 
certain seasons special absences — more or less protracted 
— were necessary for the purpose of hunting some partic- 
ular game or of gathering some special sort of wild roots 
or fruits. 
This permanency of habitation was true even of some 
of the tribes inhabiting the semi-arid plains who de- 
pended for support on the buffalo, and to-day, one who 
visits one of the plains tribes and asks the old men how 
their fathers used to live will everywhere receive the 
same answer. They will say that they used to grow corn, 
beans, squashes or pumpkins, and tobacco, and that be- 
sides this they gathered an abu idance of wild crops 
which gave them a certain amount of vegetable food all 
through the year. 
Of the Iroquois we- are told that the crops they har- 
vested were so large that they frequently had in their 
storehouses two or three years’ supply of corn, beans 
and squashes. The Pawnees, occupying the arid West, 
like the Delawares of the moist sea coast, stored their 
crops in great pits dug in the ground which they 
lined with mats, and in which their corn was perfectly 
preserved all through the winter, or until the supply was 
exhausted. Very different was the situation of the 
Cocopahs inhabiting the desert away to the southwest. 
They scraped aside the rocks that covered the dry moun- 
tainside and, uncovering a little soil, planted there a few 
hills of corn and squashes, carrying on their backs from 
the distant spring the water which should moisten the 
ground to cause the seeds to sprout and to refresh the 
plants until the crop matured, and when it was gath- 
ered they at once consumed it. 
Within the memory of living men, and while there were 
yet buffalo in abundance, the Western Indians of many 
tribes continued their primitive culture of the stubborn 
soil. The Pawnee women used to hoe their corn with 
hoes made from the shoulderblade of the buffalo lashed 
to a wooden handle, and about the same time the warlike 
Cheyennes were planting their little cornfields on the 
Little Missouri River. 
We know that in early days, when wooded Minnesota 
was much farther from the center of things than Alaska 
is to-day, the Indians of that territory planted little crops 
of corn, loosening the soil, either with hoes purchased 
from the traders or with the hardened sharpened branch 
of a tree. Their fields were small, from a quarter of an 
acre to an acre in extent, and produced a small corn the 
ears of which were from three to eight inches long, and 
which chiefly consumed green 8».ro|*tin| ears, h 
part of the crop, however, was boiled on the ear while 
green, cut from the cob and dried in the sun to be kept 
for winter use. Boiled with meat it made a nourishing 
and palatable dish. There was no food more delicious, 
and none better to work on than dried corn and buffalo 
meat. 
Over the whole of North America, wherever the cli- 
mate permitted it to ripen, corn was cultivated by the 
Indians and constituted an important part of their sub- 
sistence. Loskiel, who in the eighteenth century wrote 
interestingly and at great length of the Indians among 
whom the United Brethren worked, enumerates no less 
than twelve methods employed by the Indians in prepar- 
ing their corn for food. A concentrated form of nourish- 
ment much employed when traveling on the warpath, or 
where it was necessary to go swiftly or with light loads, 
was citamon, an interesting analogue of the pemmican 
used in old prairie travel. Pemmican consisted of 
pulverized dried meat mixed with melted fat, but, as 
those will remember who have read the old works of 
travel in the Northwest, or even those “Trails of the 
Pathfinders,” which have recently appeared in Forest 
AND Stream, there was another sort of pemmican made 
of the puverized flesh of fish also mixed with fat. Cita- 
mon, on the other hand, was finely pounded cornmeal 
mixed with powdered maple sugar, and then packed in a 
sack so tightly that the air could not enter it. While 
pemmican was purely a flesh food, citamon was wholly 
vegetable. 
It is well, understood that the Indians had discovered 
the art of making maple sugar long before the coming 
of the whites, and that they taught first the French in 
Canada and later other white people how to manufacture 
sugar and syrup from the sap of the maple tree. They 
used not only the sap of the hard or sugar maple but also 
that of the soft or white maple, though of the latter much 
more sap was required to make a given quantity of sugar. 
In the western country, even out on the plains, sugar was 
made by Indians from the sap of the common box elder 
tree. 
A I ULY SUNDAY. 
“O DAY most calm, most bright,” apostrophized George 
Herbert, Izaak Walton’s friend, when he sang of the 
Sunday of the England of his time; and the picture 
called up by the line is still a grateful one. The ideal 
has not changed with the centuries that have intervened. 
One who would celebrate Sunday in verse or prose 
would still hail it as the “day most calm.” But no such 
conception of Sunday could possibly be drawn from the 
current records of the day as given in the newspapers 
of the next morning. As there described, Sunday is any- 
thing but a day of calm. Here, for an example, is a 
partial list of the happenings of a July Sunday, as told 
by a New York paper on the Monday following: 
Two v/hite women and two white men were shot in a 
race riot of whites and negroes in a New York street. 
A Princeton student was drowned' in the surf at Coney 
Island. Two bathers were drowned in Jamaica Bay. On 
the St. Lawrence River a steam yacht collided with a 
skiff and a seventeen-year-old boy of Clayton was 
drowned. A woman was drowned in Nassau Lake, near 
Albany, by the capsizing of a skiff. Two boys were 
drowned in the Belle River, at Memphis, Mich. 
Lightning caused a $6o,ooo fire in Tennessee. A River- 
side, Conn., electric car loaded with passengers bound to 
a ball game was struck by lightning; no one was hurt, 
but the phenomenon was interpreted as an omen of 
Divine displeasure, and the party went home by the next 
car without attending the game. A Detroit trolley car 
smashed a wagonload of people returning from a drive 
in Belle Isle Park, injuring nine persons, two fatally.- In 
New York city a trolley car ran down a sixteen-year-old 
girl and crushed her feet, one of which had to be ampu- 
tated. A five-year-old boy lost a foot while playing with 
a trolley car on a side track; and a whole line of cars 
was held up by the visit of the stork to a trolley car, 
until an ambulance came and removed the mother and 
boy baby to a hospital. 
In Philadelphia a retired banker committed suicide. 
In an Ontario village an Indian recluse was found dead 
in her home, beaten and strangled, and the officers set 
out in pursuit of the suspected murderer, 
Jn Chioaf© niscjfe ^ rtisli tg Ihft 
polls to vote for church officers, and many were injured 
in the crush. In the Union Bethel African Methodist 
Episcopal Church of Brooklyn the Rev. Joseph Stiles 
preached, armed with a writ of the Supreme Court re- 
straining the trustees from interfering with him. 
Five performers in a Coney Island fire-fighting show 
were badly burned bi?- a premature explosion of powder ; 
the audience was not perturbed, taking it to be a part 
of the show. Near Harrisburg, Pa., eight men were 
blown to pieces by a premature explosion of a dynamite 
blast. At another place a dynamite explosion wrecked a 
dam. 
A Newark, N. J., man was accidentally shot in the leg 
by a friend. At Meriden, Conn., a woman was shot in 
the back by a seven-year-old niece; the child was play- 
ing with papa’s revolver, and did not know- that it was 
loaded. 
A “rabid” dog on the Williamsburg Bridge created 
great excitement by snapping at everyone who ap- 
proached it, and frightening horses so that they ran away. 
A policeman shot it to death, and for a wonder did not 
kill a human being before killing the dog. 
And so the record runs. This is by no means all of it; 
but enough has been quoted to illustrate how disquieting 
is the story of Sunday as told on Monday. Its character 
thus indicated by the news columns of the press, a July 
Sunday in 1905 is the furthest possible remove from the 
“day most calm” sung by Herbert. And not less far 
removed is it from the actual Sunday of to-day. The 
current chronicle of disorders, drownings, burnings, 
explosions, collisions, shootings and other casualties in 
the news columns of the day after is in no sense a true 
picture of the day. The press concerns itself with the 
unusual in nature and the abnormal in human nature. 
Of the mountain peak in repqseful majesty it makes no 
note ; the avalanche or the volcanic eruption command 
the attention of the world. The peaceful repose of a 
people on Sunday is not news; it has no place, or but 
secondary attention in the columns of the Monday paper. 
. . AFRICAN GAME PICTURES. 
In a recent issue note was made of the remarkable 
pictures of African game secured by a German collector, 
C. G. Schillings — pictures which were then characterized 
as being the most striking contribution to the literature 
of this subject. From the volume containing the results 
of Mr. Schillings’ work we have reproduced some of the 
most noteworthy pictures for the illustrated supplement 
of to-day. They are of extreme merit, because they 
show in a rvay never before equalled the actual home life 
of the creatures of the African jungle. ■ 
Some of the views, as that of the lioness about to 
spring on the calf, were secured by tethering a calf or 
an ass or a goat as bait to attract the beasts of prey. In 
other cases, as with the picture of the lionesses at their 
drinking place, the work was done under absolutely 
natural conditions, and these are to be regarded as the 
greater achievements. It was exciting sport, all of it, 
each new shutter snapped a triumph. 
“With beating heart,” writes the author, “I watched 
the giraffe coming closer to the water and to my hiding 
place.” Of the nerve-trying onrush of the elephant here 
shown, he tells us : “Only the death-plunge of the mighty 
bull saved us at the last moment from 'imminent danger 
* * * otherwise we would have been crushed by the 
twenty-five enraged Mant beasts.” “Indescribably great 
was my joy when I succeeded one night in catching on 
the plate three old lionesses drinking at the brook.” And 
again, of the night photograph of the rhinoceros : “I 
never dreamed that I would be fortunate enough to show 
on one plate, at a few feet distance, a female rhinoceros 
and young, at her watering place in the night.” 
These are achievements far surpassing in interest and 
gratification the simple stalking of game or lying in wait 
for it to kill it. The world is indebted to this German 
camera-hunter, and it is to be hoped that his success and 
the rich prizes he has w'on may be inducements to others 
to undertake a like work in the same field. 
The many friends of Dr. Barton W. Evermann, Chief 
of the Division of Scientific Inquiry and Ichthyologist of 
the United States Bureau of Fisheries, will be pleased to 
learn that he has been appointed Curator of tfle Division 
of Fishes, United States National Museum, He still 
tains his connection .with the' 
