Aug. 26, 1905.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
wild buffalo bull, with his huge hump, glaring eyes, fierce 
aspect and long beard, that almost sv/eeps the ground, 
when encountered in the recesses of the forest or in the 
open plain, where, there is no chance of escape", is the most 
formidable rnirnal in America— far more so than the 
panther cr grizzly bear. In the summer and autumn 
large parties of the half-breed hunters, all mounted on 
their small Indian horses, which are well broken in to 
this sport, scatter themselves over the plains, camping 
generally in the open air, or in tents covered with hides, 
or under their provision carts. As soon as the buffaloes 
are perceived the young men gallop after them, and either 
partially surprise them on the plains or succeed in driving 
them into some little valley or neck of land, projecting 
into a lake, where escape is difficult. A running fire then 
open all along the line. At the first volley the buffaloes 
scamper off. The hunters continue the pursuit, reloading 
their guns while their horses are in full gallop, for the 
sake of expedition the bullets are carried in the mouth 
and dropped into the barrel without any wadding; their 
small whips are attached by a band tO' the right wrist. 
The horse, wi h wonderful sagacity, follows of his own 
accord the animal w'hich his rider has singled out, and 
brings him alongside, and the rider then discharges his 
weapon unerrir:gly. The liorse then pursues another with 
similar success. In this way many buffaloes in succes- 
sion are shot by the same hunter, and hundreds fall in a 
single race. No sight can be livelier than a camp of suc- 
cessful hunters. They generally pitch in some clump or 
point of woods, the provision carts form the outer circle, 
to which the horses are tied, within this fires blaze on 
every side. The men smoke their pipes or arrange their 
firearms, while the women are employed in cooking a 
sumptuous repast. The jest and the laugh circulate free- 
ly all around. During the time the men are employed in 
hunting the females are occupied in drying the spare 
meat, or converting it into pemican. 
“In the winter season this sport assumes a more vari- 
ous character. When the snow is not deep the buffalo 
may be run on horseback as in summer; indeed, if the 
herd be numerous they beat such a track with their broad 
hoofs that they are easily pursued. At other times they 
are approached by the hunter crawling on the snow. He 
walks up within a certain distance, far enough not to 
alarm the herd — then prostrates himself on the snow — 
drags himself along on his belly with his gun trailing 
after him. and in this way proceeds a long distance before 
he can get within reach when the buffalo are shy. When 
fatigued with this laborious and unnatural motion he 
stops for a "time to recruit himself. Ire then throws up a 
little heap of snow before him to screen him from his 
prey. Some of the hunters are said to be so dexterous 
in this mode of approach as actually to drive aside the 
old bulls who form the outer guard of the herd, in order 
to select the choicest of the cows. In order to effect this 
object he wears the disguise of a close dun-colored cap, 
furnished with upright ears, to give him the appearance 
of a wolf, for from constant association that animal is 
regarded by the buffalo^ without dread. In the spring of 
the year, when there is a hard crust on the snow, pro- 
duced by alternate thaw and frost, the buffalo are fre- 
quently run down by the hunters, and stabbed with their 
daggers, while floundering in the deep drifts, which yield 
to their weight, but support their pursuers, who are borne 
up by their snow shoes. In this way, which is the easiest 
and safest of all, the animals fall a prey even to the boys 
and women.” George Bird Grinnell. 
[to be concluded.] 
The Gila Monster. 
Ever since coming to New Mexico I liad been hearing 
of the Gila monster who roamed in the trackless forests 
of Arizona, as the museum lecturer would have told us 
had he had one of them on hand to spout about. Accord- 
ing to the prospectors who had been in that country and 
had through some special dispensation escaped alive to 
tell us about it, the Gila monster there sometimes grew 
nearly as large, but not quite as large, as a horse; he 
might just as well have kept on growing until he had got 
as large as a horse, then it would have taken less time 
to describe him. The bite of the monster was worse 
than the bite of a rattlesnaks ; plenty of whiskey has been 
known to counteract the bite of a snake, but when whiskey 
was taken after a monster had bit you it only killed you 
so much sooner. I have no doubt of it. I have known 
plenty of whiskey to kill a man who had never been bit- 
ten by anything more venomous than a lot of blue mice 
and red alligators, that he saw running around on the 
I floor of the room he died in. 
As the Gila monster is a lizard, and I knew how dan- 
gerous a lizard is when it comes to biting — it is not built 
to bite and cannot bite — I doubted this part of the story. 
The large ones found on the top of bare rocks in the 
mountains of southern Arizona seldom need bite at all, a 
man wTo was so unfortunate as to get into their neigh- 
borhood did not need to be bitten, he just lay down and 
quit; then the monster leaving him started to hunt some 
one else to scare to death. 
We were going out to that country now and I could 
see the creature for myself. We had a young man from 
Ohio in the troop who said he had been a school teacher. 
We were liable to get and did get men out of nearly all 
the learned professions. They generally came to the cav- 
alry, it is supposed to be more aristocratic than in the in- 
fantry. We had doctors (they generally got to be hos- 
pital stewards in time), lawyers, civil engineers, clerks 
(we could use one of them at his trade, the rest had 
to build roads and stand guard), telegraph operators and 
Once in a while a stray newspaper reporter, but never a 
minister. Most of these fellows, if they would only let 
'whiskey alone, need not be here. The school teacher’s 
name was Smith, at least that was his name here, it may 
' have been anything else at home. When he first came to 
us he took to me. I had a lot of newspapers that I sub- 
scribed for and several that were sent me in return for 
an occasional letter. Smith wanted newspapers. He had 
not been with us long before he began writing to his 
[home paper, a small country weekly. He told them all 
about the country around Fort Cummings, New Mexico, 
■where we then were, the silver mines and the Indians. 
We had no Indians on hand just then, they were sup- 
posed to be over at San Carlos, Ariz., but were not always 
there, else we would not be here. We were here to keep 
them there, or try to do it. 
I furnished him with Indian information, and knowing 
the use it would be put to, threw in a few extras. Had 
he written to his paper as I did to mine, describing the 
country in language that a school boy could understand, 
and when naming a river or mountain that had an Indian 
or Spanish name giving the pronunciation as near as pos- 
sible in brackets, his letters would have looked better. I 
showed him my letters, but there was not scientific in- 
formation enough in them to suit him. 
He found out that I knew the college names of a few 
of our birds and animals and began to get them for his 
letters. 
At last we got to the lair of the Gila monster. We 
were camped up at the head of. the Gila River in New 
Mexico. Those big ones don’t live here, they are found, 
if anywhere, further west over in Arizona. I have looked 
for them there, though without finding any nearly so 
large as a horse. Some of them bit me. Maybe I am 
immune to them. The first one I found was only a foot 
long. I caught him in a slip noose, and after trying to 
get him to bite a stick, then my finger, I let him go again. 
The largest one I ever found here measured only eighteen 
inches over all, and something less on his waterline. He 
kept his head up when traveling. 
Smith wanted their scientific name, and I did not know 
then that they had one. Since then I have learned that 
it is H eloderma. That lizard shall not suffer for a name, 
nor you either, I thought, and said : “He has only been 
described by one naturalist so far as I know. He is not 
very well known yet. That man calls him SpunduUkus 
climupalog” 
“Spell it,” Smith told me, getting out his note book at 
the same time. 
I was afraid to spell it ; he might see through the sell. 
So taking his book I wrote it. 
He sent off his letter and I had forgotten all about it 
when two or three weeks after one mail day he came 
to me with the paper. 
“Are you quite sure you gave me the proper name for 
the monster?” he asked. 
“I am. What is wrong?” 
He handed me the paper. His letter was here, so was 
my name for the monster just as I had written it, but 
it was followed by an interrogation point that must have 
been taken out of the lower case of a font of job type. 
We had no trouble seeing it. and both of us knew what 
it meant. 
“That editor of yours don’t seem to think we have it 
correct, does he? Now take that and spell it slowly, 
Smith. Divide it into syllables and see what you can 
make out of it?” 
He did so, then throwing the paper down, said ; “This 
is a mean trick. That is what I make out of it. The 
next time I come to you for any more names you will 
know it.” 
“Oh, come any time you happen to think of it. If I 
have not the exact article you want I can make it while 
you wait. The fact is, that thing has not got a name, or 
if he has I don’t know it. That being the case, I or any- 
one else is at liberty to give him one. I am not well up 
in Latin so I used hog Latin.” 
He never would take any more “scientific” names from 
me, but that did not prevent him from borrowing my 
Forest and Stream and hunting for them. 
Cabia Blanco. 
Sport in New Zealand. 
BY “sportsman.” 
A Mixed Bag. 
New Zealand, that sunny land of the South Pacific, 
what memories one can recall, of the good sport and keen 
sportsmen, to be found in. those islands of the forest and 
the Maori. During some years’ residence in that quarter 
of the globe I had many opportunities of enjoying the 
various field sports to be met with, from stalking the lord- 
ly red deer to spearing the large river eels by torchlight. 
Many and various are the animals and birds in the for- 
ests and along the sea coast, and nearly all are within the 
reach of the ordinary mortal who is devoted to sport and 
outdoor recreation. The red deer country, or countries I 
should say, as there are three or four large herds scat- 
tered over the islands, resembles to a great extent that of 
the Scottish forests, though devoid of the heather and 
heath, but still very rough and rocky in most parts and 
covered here and there with dense patches of bush, and 
a day’s stalking on these hills requires a deal of doing. 
Fallow deer are plentiful and can be shot on sight, but a 
license is necessary for the red deer and a limit to the 
number of heads taken off the ground is also prescribed. 
The fishing as a whole is excellent, and quite on a par 
with the English trout fishing; the brown and rainbow 
varieties of these fish are to be met with in many of the 
creeks, more especially in the more strictly preserved 
W’aters. Eels abound in all the streams and lakes, and 
some of these grow to a huge size. They form a regular 
form of diet to the native Maoris, who catch quanti- 
ties, and then smoke and dry them. The shooting is good 
in nearly all. parts of the country. The English pheasant, 
quail, both brown and Californian, bo-kekas or swamp 
hens, duck, black swan, hares and rabbits are all to be met 
with in the different localities, not to mention the huge 
flocks of pigeons which, at certain seasons of the year, 
haunt all the bush country, more especially when the pine 
and tawa berries are ripe on the trees. As another source 
of sport and amusement we must not forget to mention 
the wild pig. These animals are the descendants of the 
original pigs, liberated on the islands when first discov- 
ered by Captain Cook. They have since those early days 
increased enormously, and now swarm all over the more 
heavily timbered lands, as also in the more open fern 
country. They afford capital sport, and occasionally an 
old boar will give you a run for your money in the form* 
of a little danger and excitement before you can lay him 
low. These pigs are very good eating; in many of the 
more unsettled districts the farmers depend almost en- 
tirely on these animals for their supply of fresh meat. 
Perhaps a short account of a day with the gun, over 
dogs, would be not inappropriate here. 
167 
As myself and a friend had agreed to allow ourselves 
a week or two’s holiday free from the troubles of farming 
and stock raising in general, we wrote to some shooting 
acquaintances living on the coast of the North Island, 
asking them to join us for a few days with the gun, and 
dogs in the surrounding country. Receiving an answer 
in the affirmative, we started from our house, situated 
about fifty-four miles from the coast, early one morning 
in September. As we were living at the extreme limit 
of the Government road, which runs up there from a 
small town on the coast, about sixty miles south, we had 
to do the trip riding on bush ponies and along the narrow 
trail which runs right through the heart of the forest 
land. We had an uneventful ride to our destination, re- 
lieved only by off-saddling once in the middle of the day 
for lunch at a clearing in the bush. 
Reaching our friend’s residence, close down by the sea- 
shore, we turned out the ponies and got everything in 
readiness for an early start on the following morning. 
The house itself was a large, roomy place, with a shady 
veranda running round it, and in front a large garden 
with really a well kept lawn for that part of the country. 
The surrounding land consisted of flat maize fields and 
low, rolj^g hills, fern and brush covered, bounded some 
miles bauk by the higher and rougher district at the foot 
of the endless expanse of standing timber. These high 
lands, sloping down to the level of the maize fields below 
were cut up here and there by deep gulleys, covered with 
a thick growth of birch trees, interspersed with fern and 
scrub, and affording excellent shade and cover for the 
pheasants which frequnented them. The picturesque 
Maori whares (pronounced warry)or huts thatched with 
the dry flax leaves scattered here and there, added an 
additional charm to the already beautiful landscape. The 
large salt water pools down by the shore, fringed with 
rows and rows of reeds and rough grasses, always yielded 
up their quota of duck and waterfowl with now and then 
a black swan. 
Jumping out of bed next morning, just as it is begin- 
ning to get light, we make a substantial 1 reakfast and 
proceed to get together our paraphernalia for the day’s 
shoot. Everything is at last ready, luncheon packed 
away in a capacious game bag, and cartridge belts filled, 
and we start away accompanied by two- red Irish setters 
and an old cattle dog of my own, very handy at retriev- 
ing, and also most useful for running pig, if we happen 
to get into their locality. Leaving the house we took the 
narrow track up the hill behind, passing a native Maori 
sitting outside his little wooden house, who gave us the 
usual native salutation of ten-a-koe, or good-day, and 
also told us where he had se,en pheasants at no great dis- 
tance. 
Spreading out in line and letting the dogs range ahead 
the three of us walk steadily forward at last reaching 
the top of the hill. Here we debouch on to a large flat 
covered with fern and tea tree scrub, or to use the native 
name, mairnuka. The dogs, a little wild on starting, now 
steady down again and presently one of them stops dead 
in his stride, one fore leg lifted, looking a perfect picture 
as his keen nose snuffs the tainted air. The other dog, 
some yards away, is ably backing Iris companion. My 
frierid gives the word and they move slowly forward. 
Again coming to a dead stand, we walk in and put up the 
birds, two hens and a cock. Bang, bang, bang, the two 
hens fall, but the old cock scuds off downward untouched, 
the two dogs dropping to the shot, as well trained ones 
should. We ought to have bagged the three, but never 
mind, our nerves will be steadier after a shot or two, so 
picking up the slain we continue on our way. 
TwO’ more shots and another brace are obtained on the 
flat and then we begin the descent to the river just below, 
working the slope as we go. One of us goes down a side 
track to the river flat, so as to be ready to receive any 
birds_ which may go high over the river. The two re- 
maining above proceed to scramble down the rough hill- 
side clothed -with bitch trees and thick patches of scrub, 
when a whirring of wings sounds close by, and I have 
just barely time to get a snap shot at a cock pheasant 
as he flashes over the tops of the trees on his way to- 
ward the river. A shout from below warns me that I 
have got him, and after firing one more ineffectual shot at 
another bird as he flies out of the thick undergrowth, we 
find ourselves on the edge of the river below, where our 
friend joins us with the cock, which fell dead close by 
him. 
As the sun is by this time showing considerable power 
we sit on, the river bank for a few minutes and light our 
pipes, while the dogs with lolling tongues lie down in the 
shallows grateful for the cool water after their warm trip 
through the rough fern coiintry. Being by this time at 
the far side o{ the hill behind the house, which same is 
about two miles away, we get on our feet again and walk 
down the road which follows the course of the river, until 
we meet the cross road lower down, where we find one 
of the boys from the farm waiting with our ponies, as 
we had left word for them to be brought round in order 
to save us a long walk tO' the next ground we intended 
to try. 
Climbing into our saddles we canter along toward the 
high hills at the foot of the heavy bush some four miles 
to the north of the river flats, intending to hunt out all 
the gulleys as we go albng. Now the road runs up a long, 
broad valley, he sides of wdiich are cut up by innumerable 
ravines and old water courses, filled with a pretty thick’ 
growth of birch trees and scrub, a favorite haunt of his 
lordship the pheasant. Our plan of campaign was this: 
We tied up the ponies on the roadside at the bottom of 
each of these ravines, and then one of us took the dogs 
and worked them down from the head of the gulley while 
the other two of us waited below, one on each side, to 
take the birds as they made down hill to the shelter of 
the maize fields. The shots thus obtained were some of 
them very pretty and also difficult, as they often flew high 
overhead and came at a tremendous pace into the bargain. 
We worked our way in this manner nearly to the head 
of the valley, and as we had grassed four brace, we de- 
cided to leave the remainder and so turned back to work 
the maize fields below, the road. Total bag so far 6^ 
brace pheasants and one hawk, of the large harrier variety, 
who met his death by offering a most tempting shot as he 
rose from the carcass of a deaa sheep on which he had 
been feasting. 
Leaving the high road we take a narrow trail among 
the maize and rough grass paddocks, at last reaching a 
