FOREST AND STREAM. 
IAug. 5, 1905. 
The Strategy of a Wild Mother. 
BY HERMIT. 
April i there was every indication of an early spring. 
'L'he snow had disappeared and the trailing arbutus Avas 
bursting into bloom. The shad bush buds were ready 
to open and here and there in the shrublands clumps 
of the fly honeysuckle had put forth leaves. The days 
were filled with bird music, while the nights fairly 
thrilled with the swelling chorus of the frogs 
For several years this had been the day when Dame 
Nature had said to me, “Take up thy bed and walk.” 
I hastened on this April morning to obey the com- 
mand by moving from my log cabin to my outdoor 
bedroom. This bedroom was an airy affair. It con- 
sisted of canvas roof to keep off the rain and snow, 
with walls of wire poultry netting to keep ou dogs, 
skunks and human beings. 
When I awoke the next morning there was an inch 
of light snow on the ground. ‘The poor man’s dress- 
ing.” While crossing the door3^ard to the cabin, my 
footsteps were suddenly arrested by the sight of baby 
footprints in the light snow. The footprints crossed 
and recrossed the open space, disappearing under the 
shrubs and trees that surrounded the cabin. I knew 
that the hermitage had no baby attachment, and that it 
was too far away in the woods to expect that a human 
baby had wandered barefoot so far from home. The 
story books for little folks would readily have ex- 
plained the mystery by claiming the footprints were 
made by the good fairies, that had so thoughtfully pro- 
vided “the poor man’s dressing.” As I had passed the 
years of childhood and fairyland, there was only one 
solution left; the footprints were made by the planti- 
grade foot of a raccoon. 
After breakfast I followed the trail and found the 
raccoon’s den under a liuge boulder, -about 250 yards 
from the cabin. Before my advent rattlesnakes had 
occupied the den. A good Samaritan, in the interest 
of berry pickers, had exterminated the snakes and rac- 
coons had immediately taken possession. 
My visitors proved to he a mother raccoon with twins 
on her hands. I made it a practice to put out food 
every night, and she came regularly, soon _ after dark, 
just as the stars begun to show. For this reason I 
named her “Starlight.” Moonlight nights she made 
a pretty picture in the dooryard. I often- wished that 
others might enjoy this bit of wild life, but Starlight 
shunned the dooryard when visitors were present. 
At such times we could hear her but she would not 
leave the protection of the shrubbery. 
I contrived a way to bring Starlight close to my 
sleeping quarters. I scattered . nuts along a plank seat 
that led to the wire Avail of one end of the building. 
In a remarkably short time she became tame enough 
to allow me to set inside while she ate nuts outside, 
within reach, of my hand. 
When the baby raccoons were as large as a small 
cat, Starlight led them into the dooryard. There was 
a nightly circus after that, for the little imps were as 
mischievous as monkeys. One of the twins would drop 
from a limb on to the mother’s back, and while she 
mauled him till he whimpered, the other woidd sit up 
and look on seeming to enjoy his mate’s discomfort. 
Perhaps in ten minutes he would try the trick and have 
to take his medicine. The tAvins were always on the 
lookout for their mother’s tail, and Starlight was 
obliged to sit on this member to protect it from at- 
tack. 
One night the twins, while playing, found that the 
Avire walls of my sleeping place would twang Avhen 
touched. It gave them a great fright at first, but the 
scamps experimented until they lost all fear, then they 
kept up such a din, by running over the wires, that it 
was impossible to sleep. I drove them away several 
times before Starlight took them in hand. She_ seemed 
to understand that I was annoyed* by the noise, and 
she punished the twins severly whenever they ap- 
proached the wires. It did not take them long to learn 
their lesson, but now and then one of the scamps would 
sly up and hit the wire a slap, when the mother was 
not looking. 
It is needless for me to state that I thoroughly en- 
joyed the visits of the raccoon family. There was one 
disquieting feature. I looked forward with aiixiety to 
the hunting season. Two raccoon clubs visited this 
locality, for it was a famous feeding ground for rac- 
coons. Sturdy white oak trees afforded an abundant sup- 
ply of sweet acorns- in the fall, while frogs and fowls 
were accessible in the spring and summer. 
During my life in the woods I had stumbled on to a 
feature of raccoon life wholly unknown to me hereto- 
fore. It was the fact that male raccoons were the vic- 
tims in the hunting season. One fall ten raccoons Avere 
killed in the immediate vicinity of my cabin, and eight 
of the number were males. The difference in death 
rate is explained in one way only. The male raccoon, 
when pursued by the hounds, takes to a tree, while 
the feiuale hustles her family to the den and thus 
escapes. 
Would Starlight escape? I had my doubts. She Avas 
the only raccoon left near my cabin. Extermination 
seemed likely, as the members of the raccoon clubs 
did not seem to realize that the death of the last rac- 
coon meant no sport another year. 
When the acorns were ripe Starlight led the twins 
to a new feast, a feast that would put fat on their 
haunches, and make it possible for them to sleep 
through a long, cold winter. Starlight had deserted 
me and my dooryard. I supposed she thought it best 
to give her children a raccoon education. 
Meantime I dreaded the advent of the hunters. One 
Saturday night, near 10 o’clock, my fears were realized. 
From my hammock I saw a glimmer of light in the 
treetops. Down through the Avoods, in Indian file, came 
eight hunters, each with a lantern. The long column 
of lights did not approach in a straight line, but moAmd 
from side to side as it folloAved the winding path to 
the cabin. The lioys invited me to the hunt, but for 
a good reason I declined. Just then the hounds gave 
tongue near the den. They outwitted .Starlight by 
getting between he.r and home. Tliere was nothing 
left but to tree. If the raccoons treed they Avere lost. 
When the hunters heard the hounds they left on the 
run and Avere soon out of sight. 
While I Avas thinking hoAV to aid the little mother. I 
heard animals bounding through the undergrowth. It 
was Starlighi followed by the frightened twins. There 
Avas a big hemlock tree just fifteen feet from the south 
Avail of my sleeping place. Starlight made for this 
tree and sent the tAvins up while she remained on the 
ground. The cubs stopped when about ten feet away, 
but the mother urged them on and they climbed to the. 
very top. Starlight uttered a few low notes, which I 
took to be Avords of warning, then bounded away. 
The hounds were trying to .unravel the numerous 
trails made by the family early in the evening. I could 
hear them distinctly, for they were dangerously near 
the cabin. Sometimes their mellow notes were sent 
up encouragingly, and again disappointment Avas voiced 
in no uncertain tones. By and by I heard the glad cry: 
“Trail found, trail found!” I weL understood Starlight’s 
ruse. She had placed herself in the path of the hounds 
and was leading them away from the babies. 
Would she seek safety in the den? No, that Avas 
dangerously near the hemlock tree. She must lead 
the hounds a long distance away, and perhaps be 
forced to sacrifice her life to save her babies. I 
awaited the result with sad misgiving. 
Two hours later eight disgusted men and two tired 
dogs make the dooryard. The men sit on the plank 
seat within fifteen feet of the hemlock tree. The dogs 
are further away, resting on the pine needles in front 
of the cabin. Eight lanterns light up the dooryard, but 
the little raccoons are safe and silent in the treetop, 
not thirty feet from the hunters, while they relate how 
the raccoon had tricked them. She had taken to a 
SAvamp and the hounds had lost the trail in pools of 
water. 
Ten minutes after the hunters were out of sight. Star- 
light returned. She purred softly and the twins 
scrambled down, glad no doubt to have a chance to 
stretch their legs. Starlight led them away purring 
all the time, doubtless telling the little ones how she 
had fooled two dogs and eight men. 
When Starlight sent her babies up that hemlock tree, 
she knew that I would protect them if anything hap- 
pened to her. Her confidence was well placed. I would 
have sacrificed luy hermitage to save the little beggars. 
Martins^ SwalloAvs and Sparrows. 
Theresa, N. Y., July 24. — On Saturday last, at Red- 
wood, I v/as much interested in watching the occupants 
of an elaborate bird house placed on a post standing in 
the middle of the street in front of the Dolinger House. 
T should judge that the bird house was forty inches 
square, of four gables with tin roof. There are four 
rows (of five each) entrances on each side of the house, 
and three entrances in each gable, making ninety-two 
entrances in all. There are posts about five inches from 
each corner extending from the lower floor to- the roof, 
with four verandas running entirely around the building, 
Avhich is painted white and trimmed with green. 
What surprised me most Avas that the post (which is 
about twenty feet high) is placed directly in the middle 
of the main street of the village, as if it were a corpora- 
tion institution. I never saAv so many martins in one 
place. I saw only a few barn swallows about the house. 
They were probably out on the telegraph wires and fly- 
ing about getting in condition for their long journey 
south. There were plenty of English sparrows in and 
about the 'house, and I noticed that they were carrying 
nesting material and getting ready for another brood. 
There will be plenty of room, as the martins and swal- 
lows will soon vacate their northern summer homes for 
their southern ones. I wonder do they breed there? I 
never saw more than two pair of martins breeding here. 
J. L. Davison. 
A Fateful Gtouse Dfum. 
Editor Forest and Stream: 
This is a story told by my father. Rev. George W. 
Eaton, D.D., LL.D., a distinguished pulpit orator of the 
Baptist denomination and for tAvelve years previous to 
his death in 1872 president of Madison University. I 
have often heard him relate the circumstances. The 
experience shows conclusively the effect of imagination 
upon a sensitive mind and that of the mind upon the 
physical system. Father was born in a log house near 
Huntingdon, Pa., in 1804, but in 1805 with his family 
moved to Ohio, where he was brought up in a log cabin 
continguoUs to a heavy forest. The boy in his teens, 
some fourteen years I should judge, imagined he had 
heart disease from the severe palpitation that oppressed 
him whenever he approached the wood lots. He began 
to grow into a “decline,” as they call it, and from a 
rugged boy sound in every way he became weak and was 
gradually wasting aAvay. The doctors, if they had any of 
any account in that sparsely settled region, could do 
nothing; and George was booked as “consumptive” with 
but a few more months to live. And he undoubtedly 
would have become a victim had he not one day been 
out in the woods with his elder brother David. His 
heart commenced its usual thump, and he became so 
weak he could hardly stand. “Hark !” said brother Dav^i 
“Hear that pa’tridge drum? 'Wait until he starts agaiiji 
and we can crawl up and see him. He is on some log i, 
the thicket there. I knoAV there is a drumming log ther' 
somewhere.” 
Witli heart beating with another kind of beat, fathe- 
with David sneaked up, and pearing carefully throng:' 
(he bushes they discovered the bird with tail spread an 
feathers erect strutting on a log. Then came th 
thump, thump, th-u-m-p, thum-m-m of the vibratin 
wings and the muffled thunder. It was to the boy 
revelation and a glorious deliverance; the seat of th 
“consumption” was exposed; and with that welcom' 
music all disease Avas scattered in the dim woods, and 1 
did not take long to get back the health and vim of i 
sturdy farmer’s boy. My father really believed that bu? 
for this timely discovery in a few more months he wo-ul; 
have died from exhaustion and filled an untimely grav 
from assisted imagination purely. Jacobstaff. 
E 
Dog and Rattlesnake Bite. 
ii 
« 
)l 
Keller, "Wash., July 15. — Editor Forest and Streaml 
About ten days ago some boys who are spending theii 
vacation at my cabin, went up on to the mountain, ane 
Avhile resting at a spring, my dog, while hunting abov 
them a short distance, got bit by a rattler. The boy 
started home with him, afid they carried him part of th 
way, and he hobbled along on three legs and got ho-m 
in about an hour after being bitten. His leg and foo' 
were badly swollen when they reached the house 
bathed the A\'ound and the leg with turpentine and kep 
bathing it for some time. 
By night the leg Avas swollen to more than twice it 
natural size, and the SAvelling extended into- the bodj 
lhat night he was very sick, and I thought for some tim. 
he would die before morning. But by morning he wa 
some better, and the SAvelling had gone from his bodj 
so that you could tell it. Fie Avould not eat anything til 
night, then he drank a little warm milk and ate a littl 
bread. 
I kept bathing the wound with turpentine, and th 
next morning he was greatly improved and ate quite : 
lot, and could put his foot to the ground. He has im: 
proved right along till now he can walk very well, th 
hair has al!_ come from his leg up as far as it was bitten 
and there is still a running wound in the foot severa 
inches from the toes. I did not have any ammonia, or , 
think he would have got along much better. 
Birds are very plentiful, and the boys are very anxiou 
to have the game season open. Lew "Wilmot. 
Hofns Seven Feet Across. 
A Kansas paper says : “A peculiar pair of horns wa 
found by Harley Henderson, of Hoxie, Kan., and Franl 
Lee, of_ Hill City, Kan., one and a half miles southeas' 
of Hoxie thirty-five feet below the surface of the ground 
The specimen is petrified and in a perfect state of pre' 
servation, notwithstanding the ages it is supposed to havi 
remained beneath the ground. Many conjectures havi 
been made as to what sort of bovine this magnificen 
pair of horns must one time have adorned. Following 
the curves of the horns from tip to tip the distance il 
eight feet nine inches, but straight across it is seven feet 
The circumference of _ the horns next to the skull is 
twenty inches. The distance between the horns acros; 
the skull is fifteen inches.” 
In Post Tertian times there were in America bison.'i 
which carried horns of gigantic size, one species, de- 
scribed by Harlan from the Big Bone Lick of Kentucky 
having horns which measured eight or nine feet across) 
-May not this have been one of these ancient bisons? 
Hoav an Owl Did Not Catch Chickens. 
Editor Forest and- S treamt : 
In a late issue you told how owls catch chickens b} 
crowding them off the roost and catching them as thej! 
flew to the ground. I want to tell how a great-homed 
owl {Bubo virginianus) did not get his chicken. Aboul 
twenty years ago- a Mr. Webb, of Somerset, brought to 
me at Lockport an owl that had been captured in a pecu- 
liar manner. A hen and her brood had been kept in 
coop for some time and then were allowed their freedom,; 
The coop had been raised up in front and held in posi-i 
tion by a stick put under the edge of the coop. The ow) 
attempted to go under the coop for its meal; in doing 
so it knocked out the prop and down went the coop. Thq 
hen and all the chickens but two managed to get out 
when the owl went in. The next morning the owl and 
the tAvo chickens alive were found occupying the farther 
ends of the coop. Apparently the owl had forgotten all 
about its meal of spring chicken. J. L. Davison. 
Another Great A«k Sold. 
The last number of Nature reports the sale to a! 
museum on the Continent of another mounted specimen 
of the great auk. The sale was made through Rowland 
Ward, and the price paid was reported to have been 
£400, or $2,000. There are said to be about seventy-five 
skins of this species in existence and a like number of 
eggs. Most of the specimens are in public museums.,; 
'While only a few of the skins of the great auk are owned' 
in the United States we have large collections of the’ 
bones of this species. Funk Island, near Newfoundland,! 
was _ a great home of this bird, and Mr. T. A. Lucas,’ 
visiting the island nearly twenty years ago, collected a) 
vast^ deal of interesting and useful material about the 
species. 
